It was a Friday afternoon which, to Teresa, was the prime time for seducing people, whoever they may be. She found that at the end of the week, that people tended to be at their easiest, wanting to let go of whatever stress the week had incurred.

Usually the stress was from from their jobs which made Teresa's teeth grit behind her smile because they were so fortunate, so lucky, yet they didn't see it. Teresa had no hope of getting a job, not with the way the world ran at the moment. A werewolf earning a pretty penny was unheard of. The 'best' she could ever doing was get some underpaid, dodgy job, and even those were hard to come by.

So instead, she settled for making money the only way she knew how... by using her body to her advantage, taking vulnerable men and women home, then raiding their house whilst they slept. Sometimes, if she was lucky and somebody was stupid, she was able to lift wallets from people's pockets. But often, the risk was far too great for that. At least in the privacy of somebody's home, an undercover auror's eyes couldn't be watching.

Turning the corner, Teresa pushed open the door to the bar, eyes seeking somebody out... and landing on a woman at the bar. She was well-dressed, polished. An excellent target, and after straightening her braids, Teresa plastered on her most charming smile. "Hi. Looking for a drinking buddy?" she said sweetly. What the woman didn't know... was that Teresa planned on leaving her with the tab. "I love your shoes, by the way. Stood out from across the room."

---

"Mm, yes. I imagine it would. I'd hate for you to feel too lonely," Teresa said, voice cloying like honey as she slid into the seat next to the woman, throwing a few of her braids over her shoulder as she crossed her legs.

Holding her hand out, Teresa decided to introduce herself first. "Beth." It was a simple, easy false name. One that Teresa had been using ever since she was cast out onto the streets a few years back. Nobody questioned the name Beth because it was so normal. It made it harder to hunt her down later too, if she ended up causing trouble with this lady.

"You're very fortunate, being able to buy the best money can afford." Teresa used to be able to. She'd grown up with plenty of galleons in her bank account, although it was rare she used it on clothes. Back then, she'd much preferred spending it on books and puzzles and things that challenged her. When the offer of a drink was posed, Teresa's hand went out to rest on the woman's arm. It was kind... and easy. Very easy. This chick must have been loaded. "A tequila please."

---

The girl's reply to Teresa saying she'd hate for her to be lonely was short, and Teresa wondered for a moment if she was going about this the wrong way. Maybe the woman wasn't into the sweet approach, but into somebody a bit rougher around the edges. She could do that too, but first she wanted to gauge the situation because once you went 'nasty,' it was hard to transition back to soft and sweet. "Sofia... with a 'ph' or a 'f'?" she asked curiously, crossing her legs. "I 'spose 'Beth' can really only be spelled one way. There's no mystery when it comes to the name, although... people are never sure whether it's a nickname for Bethany or Elizabeth."


"Oh, so do you not make enough money for to afford your own clothes?" Teresa asked, brows raising because this woman was the definition of privileged. She had a good job and yet she was given clothes, as well as probably a handsome stack of galleons. Teresa wondered if perhaps this woman had ever had to face any sort of hardship in her life, had to scrape up money out of thin air. Judging by her appearance? No. Teresa doubted that very much. "How long have you been modelling for? I've heard it's incredibly hard to crack into the industry."

---

By adding an 'f' instead of a 'ph' in her name, this woman's parents thought it'd make her name more 'exotic.' "Are you just British then? It sounds like the type of thing Brits would do," Teresa said. Although her parents, as tragic as they were, would never give her a less than classic name which is why she was called Teresa and her brother was called Theodore, although he strictly went by 'Theo' only. "Elizabeth. My parents thought they were people original, giving me an old-fashioned name, but I've met a lot of Elizabeth's in my time."

"So you're a glutton then? It sounds like you have a lot of clothes, even if you do give it away. Two walk-ins and a dress is excessive and if you're a 'model,' I doubt that the people receiving it will really wear designer clothes," Teresa said, before her temper flared under her skin because why the fuck was this woman giving her a sob story? Was she trying to convince Teresa she had it hard? "Sucks for those who actually want and try to be a model for all their lives, that you were just able to 'fall' into the position."

Truth be told, yes, Teresa was jealous because she was likely to never work a day in her life, but not out of choice. No, the Ministry in all it's wisdom had implemented laws that left most werewolves unemployed, on the streets, and generally miserable. When Sofia asked what she did, Teresa considered lying, saying she was some hot shot St. Mungos trainee healer but instead, she kept things semi-truthful. "I left school at a young age and because I don't have a proper wizarding education, I'm considered unemployable so at the moment, I do nothing."

---

Bored with the conversation of names, despite her having brought it up in the first place, Teresa gave a simple hmm right up until the woman said a 'pretty name for a pretty woman.' It was then that a flirtatious grin crossed Teresa's lips and she leaned forward, giving the other woman a clear shot of her cleavage. Maybe, just maybe, she could take her home later, romance her, then raid her home for all her designer goodies. "Is that so? Well, Sofia with a 'f,' my name isn't the only thing that fits me well. I'm sure your hand in mine would too." With that, Teresa trailed her fingers across the woman's forearm, before reaching down to grip her hand.

It was interesting how the woman's story seemed to flip as Teresa questioned her on being a glutton, how she scrambled to justify herself. "You must be a modern day Mother Teresa," she said with a hum. It was funny - despite that being her given name, Teresa had never actually gotten that comparison. She wasn't giving, she never had been. Back in school, she'd looked after herself, her brother and her very small group of friends. She had no interest in helping others, especially those who hadn't deserved it. "Surely you'll become too old one day, to keep modelling, then you'll have to find a more productive career choice. I read in Witch Weekly that most women retire from modelling at thirty. Are you far off?"

When the woman went off into a tangent about werewolves, Teresa's eyes narrowed immediately because, "I didn't say I was a werewolf. I said that left school early. How presumptuous of you to assume that's why." She wouldn't tell some stranger of her lycanthropy anyway, even this woman who was ranting about werewolf rights because who was to say she wasn't trying to trick Teresa? What if she actually worked for the ministry and this was a ploy to hit her with a loitering charge for hanging out in a bar?

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