Freya Mikaelson

[Rosseau's is crowded, but then again, that's nothing new for a Saturday night in New Orleans.

It's part of the reason that the group of them decided to have their meetings here. Loud noises meant that there was a low chance of them being listened in on, even with supernatural hearing, and it meant that they could drink at the same time. The group of them were gathered in the kitchen, discussing business, and Hayley brings up the fact that there have been some bodies turning up in the bayou. She knows that sometimes vamp kills get dumped there to cover things up, but the kill signature on these were ... strange.

Or at least, that's what Freya would have been hearing if she hadn't been immediately distracted by a familiar face walking into the bar.

It isn't often that visions from her past make their way into New Orleans, as more often than not, Freya wasn't awake long enough to make too many enemies beyond Dahlia, and most of the people she did make the acquaintance of were mortal. The same held true for the woman in question and her near identical crew of travelers that came with her, but she knew from experience that when Sara Lance was concerned, things often weren't as normal as they appeared.]

Excuse me.

[Vincent looks very annoyed that she's excusing herself from this Very Important meeting. She waves a hand, before making her way into the bar itself.]

I'm working a lead.

[ ... and possibly some other things. That's not important. What is is making her way over to where Sara is perched at the bar, and sliding on to the stool next to her.]

Let me see if I remember correctly. Whiskey, neat. Two fingers.