Work Hard. Play Hard.

The office was one of the more boring aspects of the nightclub, especially after her coronation.

Rachel looked back up from her clipboard, and let out an audible growl. Paper! Paper as far as the eye could see! Waves of paper crashing against the cliffs of paper before simply falling back into the surf of paper, to flow backwards into the endless sea of paper. White paper! Yellow paper! Blue paper! White paper with blue bits on it! Red bits! Tick boxes and numbers and standing orders and "Signature, Print Name, Date" lines all upon a mass of papers. Ever since Dietrich had gotten back, Rachel had been on an uphill slog to stop the entire country from spilling out of her control; she didn't say it outside of her own lonely company, but she didn't trust him enough to simply let him take over. Not really. He was a bit of a stuck-up, she felt, and too quick to try and force his way back into power. He had plans, but Creta wasn't going in his direction. He was a figurehead; not in power. Not yet, and maybe not ever. But she needed to show that she was still in charge, that Dietrich was just a thorn in her side, not something that was breaking down her power...

... and it was so boring!

"That does it!" She said, throwing her pen across the room in frustration. "I need a goddamn drink!" She stood out of the little swivelly chair, nostrils flaring, before she stormed out of the room. The office was a little box just outside the huge, grand club; the club itself was glamorous and hearty, several stories high and filled with light and love and loud music, complex architecture invoking a castle with futuristic design concepts. The office was an ugly box to the side, out of the way and hidden from view, with a one-way window into the club. Rachel walked around the corner, and looked ahead of her.

"Big crowd tonight, huh Franklin?" She asked. Her right-hand man was, today, her bouncer, and silently nodded. Her auburn eyes slowly scanned the crowd, with some of the people turning to her and being excited, seeing Her Majesty herself at the club, but the regulars simply looked to the door; Queen Rachel was not much of an odd sight at the club she owned, after all. She kept scanning the queue curiously. "Anyone I should know?"

"I've heard there might be a new recruit in the Royal Task Force joining us. Would be good to might them all." Franklin explained, prompting a nod from Rachel. Someone to chat with, a distraction from work. A welcome prospect.

Zhanna hadn't been working for the Cretan Royal Task force for very long. Things so far weren't overly hectic for her, but she felt it would do her some good to go out and have a little fun on the town. Staying in the same place for a while could get to a person, and getting to know more people would be quite well.

Zhanna strolled along the street. Her long redish hair was pulled back in her standard ponytail, though various strands refused to be held back. Her somewhat minimal clothing probably wasn't such a smart idea for a girl to wear while walking alone on the street but Zhanna didn't give much thought to it.

Pausing outside of a peculiar building, it was huge. Yes, this was definitely the place she was looking for. Zhanna made her way to the door, looking around in amazement at the castle like building. "Hello. I'm Ms Reagan. I was told to come here tonight." She barely glanced at the bouncer for a moment before letting her gaze travel around again. Tonight was gonna be fun~

Franklin's eyes passed over the redhead as she approached. "Hello. I'm Ms Reagan. I was told to come here tonight." He nodded, allowing her to simply pass by. His eyes then travelled back to the Queen, who leant against the wall, scratching her arm idly.

"That's her." He said, gesturing to the slowly disappearing girl. Rachel's eyes scanned the young woman. Wide-eyed curiosity was exuding out of her, her own gaze travelling across Rachel's club. Probably not from around here. Maybe not even from Creta originally. Given her choice of outfit, she was also kind of naive. She needed someone to hang out with her. As for Rachel? She needed entertainment. She nodded to Franklin, before marching towards the young woman. On her face was a big grin as she passed the redhead, before she turned to her, hoping her reputation would surpass her a little. Especially given that this woman was, allegedly, part of the Royal Task Force.

"So, you ever get drunk with a queen before?" She asked, her lips curled in a playful grin. She widened her arms, offering a hug. "Rachel Ascot. You're not from here, are you? I need to show you how Cretans get drunk!"

(Sorry it's short and half-arsed )

Zhanna must have looked completely out of place there. Staring around with wide eyes, looking like a child at the fair. Yes, she was in awe at the size. What exactly had she planned on doing here exactly? She hadn't the slightest idea. By the looks of it she was just going to gawk all night.

That is, of course, until someone walked up to her. Wait, Zhanna knew her. But that couldn't be right. Maybe she had gotten her confused with someone else. It was plausible. Until of course the girl spoke. The queen! Zhanna knew that, just refused to believe it. What was someone of such a status doing here, of all places? "Ahh, so you've noticed. No, I was born in Drachma. We moved here a while back, but it's still newish. Right, I'm Zhanna Reagan. Part of your Royal Task Force, your majesty."

Wait, did the queen challenge her to a drinking contest? Aw crap, Zhanna never was one to ever test her limits, which were probably quite low. But a drink with the queen? Who would pass that up? Zhanna smiled with a slightly nervous nod. "I can't say i have ever drank with a queen. Though I'll gladly accept the offer!"

(No worries. Mine feels a bit rushed too. v.v)