Thread: The Midnight Masquerade (Atroxa & GrinningGentleman)

The perhaps he was given, was more than enough. He knew, that it wouldn't be the last time they met. He was going to make sure of that now. It had earner her a soft smirk across Vladimir's lips, before he vanished to her eyes. But it would only be to her eyes, after a short time. His red eyes kept a close watch on her, after he'd been home for a short message for his employees. They were to prepare the guest room, to the best of their abilities, and it was to be kept pristinely clean, from this point onward. It was going to have a visitor, soon, if Vladimir had a say in it. Vladimir followed Lydia 'home', and observed the surroundings, without ever being seen by anyone. His scent, and hearing, helped him keep track of every single person in the Brothel. This allowed him to walk unnoticed, even past the late employees, still having clients at this time, right up to Lydia's doorstep. As silent as a still wind, he entered the room, once the three people slept, and gazed down upon Lydia. It was no surprise she was losing faith in romance, the place she had been put. A disgrace. But he was going to watch her closely, from this point onward. Crouching down, he let their lips meet, making sure just enough of his saliva would touch her's. With that, he left the room, letting his drug take it's effect. It would enhance any sensation, even sleep. She would sleep tightly, and comfortably, even if she'd only slept on the floor. Nothing, would cause her distress this night. Oy, Cathrine. Show this fellow a good time, he's paid well this night.. James's rough voice broke the murmur of the Brothels bar, from behind the counter were he worked. The half drunk man at the counter turned to look to the girl in question, who walked over with a hanging head. Her eyes never met with James's, as she invited the man upstairs, to one of the empty rooms. James grinned wickedly, as he continued to dry the glass he was holding, moving the thick cigar between his teeth, to the other curve of his mouth. James' Brothel was, without a doubt, a sleazy one. The man was a snake, and knew how to play around the law. He was tied in with several illegal activities, but he had a few of the right costumers, and was never touched. The Brothel wasn't in bad shape, or anything, but the prices were cheap, because everyone was horribly paid. No one told on him, since everyone remember what happened to the last one who did, now rotting away in a shallow grave, in the Forrest nearby. A crude businessman, he knew how to keep his establishment safe. James' dark eyes gazed shortly to the corner of the Brothel, narrowed suspiciously. There had been a gentleman in the Brothel, for several hours now, and he had just been sitting there.. He'd paid twice the price for a bottle of expensive Whiskey, in order to sit in the corner, undisturbed. James wasn't one to bite the hand that fed him, so he'd agreed, and he knew the value of privacy. But why at a noisy Brothel? The man wore a hooded cloak, and sat in the darkest corner of the bar, were the sunlight never touched. He'd even requested it, and James had to remove other costumers to get him the spot. There was something off about this character. James was shoved out of the thought, when his skillfull eyes caught glimpse of something that just entered the door. He was always fast to spot fashion, because he knew fashion carried money around like a drunk carried a cheap Whisky. James waved the man over, and shoo'ed away one of the locals, so that the man could have a seat. The fancy suited man didn't take the seat though, but stared down James with eyes that screamed authority. James? The man asked darkly, provoking several pathetic nods from James. Yeah, yeah that's me. What can I do for this gentlemen? I've got anything a man like you could possibly want! Cheap, moderate and expensive, and I am not just talking about the alcohol. James did his thing, but was intterupted by a dismissive wave, as the authoritative person gazed around. I am not interested in anything you have to sell, sir.. I am here on behalf of my Master. He is going to arrive here soon, for a short visit. He'd like to see your best specimen, at their best condition. The man explained, as he placed a small bag of coins on the table. There is plenty more were that came from. He won't be using the product just now, just picking it out for tonight. He want's quality.. Understand? The man demanded, causing a small grin on James' lips, as he picked up the bag. I'll get right to it, and get my girls ready two hours... One.. One hour. The man quickly interrupted, causing James to sneer a little inside, but giving no hint of it to the costumer. Instead he nodded in agreement, as the man walked out the Brothel. James now sneered loudly, removing his cigar to spit on the floor by his side. Fucking stick-less butlers... I'm sick, and tired of this fucking trend.. Sending your men to the brothel first, to get things 'prepared' for them.. The hell do they think this is? A buffet? James thought about that for a moment, before laughing horrifically. Hah.. Guess it is, really.. Marge! Empty out the make-up room, The 13th are going to need it.. He called out, before walking out from the bar. The 13th, were the three girls in room 13. Lydia's room. They were called this, because they were the best James had to offer. They were cleaner, and far outdid the others in beauty. He demanded the most for those girls, and therefore they got that nickname. Not just one he used, but everyone there did. Some of the other girls weren't too fond of the 13th girls, because of their 'superiority'. But most of the girls all stocked together. Had each others back, but there were always time for a little friendly banter. James almost blasted through the door to the 13th room, as he slapped his massive hands together, making even more noise. It was still very early in the morning, with the sun hardly even out yet, so he didn't expect any of them to be awake. Girls! Time to get up, and make your keep! He shouted out, kicking each of their mattress. No one lived in luxury at James' Brothel, but the 13th had it best. Some of the rooms, did not even have mattress. You three've got the Make-up room, and I want to see all three of you, downstairs, in an hour. And you better look your damn best! I want every single costumer down there to gasp, and wish they had enough money to pay for your firm little arsses! James grunted with a laugh, as he walked back towards the door, turning around to check on the girls, to make sure they were all getting up. Got that!?