The first and primary stage, at least, is PG-13 in nature--but the rooms dotting the sides of the building are a bit more telling...and while PDA is not uncommon in nightclubs, it's particularly frequent and excessive here. Hasibe, for example, is in the process of disentangling herself from a man in his mid-forties; said man is wearing an extremely seventies brown corduroy suit and the slightly hazy look of someone beginning a descent into inebriation.

She cuts across the room neatly after making her exit from his lap, not particularly caring, at the moment, whether she's getting glitter on him or passersby. (Espionage, she has learned, is 25% interesting stuff, 75% getting through utter tediousness.)

As she recognizes Rex, vaguely, from the Network, he makes an excellent excuse for being busy with socialization...and she does actually want to check up on fellow members of her cohort. She flashes him a little smile, friendly without being overt about it. Her nonchalance is a touch striking, considering she is pretty much wearing an elaborately sparkly white bikini and gigantic heels, but she's used to and comfortable with the clothes.

"Hi, again." All roads, she is beginning to suspect, lead to this damn club. Which is good for business, at least. "You picked a good time to come in; the place won't get crazy for another couple of hours."