Jasmine glanced over at the new groups that had started to form within the bar. One, the armored bunch, and two, the pale girl who had walked in before talking with the other strange women...Reaching down to one of the many small pounches under her odd dress, she removed a pair of small droids, maybe an inch across, made of a silvery, mirrored metal. Each one had six small legs, and appeared to simply be a moving microphone...Dropping them on the floor, she whispered to the drone hovering above her shoulder, and the two small machines scuttled away into the bar, unseen by the people at the table with her.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
