There's a change. It's immediate and it's absolute. This may be Odessa's first time in a club like this, but it's not her first time in this sort of setting. Her gaze locks on Irene's and it does not waver. There's no playing at it, no acting like this might not have been what she had in mind all along.

But there's a tension. It coils up her arms, sets her shoulders a little tight, makes her posture a little rigid. The moment is familiar, but the woman is not. "What do I call you?" she asks in a voice that still manages to sound like a whisper over the din around them.