just a little hunt... (open)

[darkness]

Isis wandered into the club a little later than usual that evening, two of her most prized consorts on her heels. The owner came to greet her, placing a kiss on her hand as she entered. Isis smirked, knowing well that she needed to behave. The man was a pig and wasn't worth her time, save for the fact that he ran such a fine establishment full of beautiful women and handsome male customers. It was all just a game for her, albeit a very serious one. Isis made her way to her table, crossing one leg over the other as the show began.

Reaching up absently, she stroked the cheek of the man on her left. Young, strapping, and strong. Just the way she liked them. This one she had Turned simply for the company. The man on her left, however, was going to be her snack for the evening, once the show was over. He was a young, wealthy man, a politician's son. He'd been under the Amortentia for a long while, but she was sick of the man. He simply smelled too appetizing, and wasn't much use to her beyond a delicious meal and a large sum of cash.

Isis watched the show with a mild disinterest. The women on the stage weren't doing it for her that night, for whatever reason. Perhaps she'd seen the girls perform one too many times. The Amortentia Viper was on the prowl for new servants and toys, and she wasn't beneath scouring through the crowd of horny men. Eyes narrowed, she slowly licked her lips. They all smelled delicious, made completely of money. The ones in the private booths above her head were all the more tantalizing... This was going to be one, long night.

By this point, someone would have already fallen into her lap. Isis found that she had that affect on people. Whether they knew her as Isis, Mistress Filali, the Amortenia Viper, or even as a stranger, someone would come forward. They always did. Pursing her lips, Isis reluctantly dragged her gaze from the tables back onto the stage, trying her best to be patient. She'd get her way eventually...

Isis' Outfit

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[greyback]

Isaiah was not a patron of places like these, he liked to think of himself as a bit more progressive than to stoop to something that could be so degrading to women. But he had been dragged along for an old school friend's bachelor party. The rest of the group was in one of the VIP rooms upstairs, but Isaiah had been very uncomfortable, so he had excused himself- they probably wouldn't miss him with the half-dozen, half-naked women to entertain them. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been able to handle it and gotten so tense, but he hadn't been able to stand it.

Isaiah had been intent on making a beeline for the exit, but he had decided that he might as well stop for a drink at the bar before leaving. Normally the only "luxury items" he splurged on were cigarettes, but he felt that the drink was justified- he was here for a bachelor party, after all. Shaking his head at himself, Isaiah wound through the tight crowd, not paying much attention to the patrons watching the show on stage, or even to the show itself. He just wanted to get his drink and go home.

He thought he saw a woman in the crowd, which was definitely odd, though he didn't dwell much on it as he skirted around her table on the way to the bar, trying not to cringe at the vulgar comments being shouted by some of the men closest to the stage. This had been chosen as the location for the bachelor party because it was supposedly classier than other strip clubs, but to Isaiah it seemed like even the low-class ones, only everything was a lot more expensive.

Once he finally made it to the bar, Isaiah ordered a Pilsner- he would rather drink a good beer or wine than anything stronger, he had suffered through too many a painful hangover to go for any other sort of alcohol. The memories of the headaches he'd endured as a teenager alone were enough to swear him off the hard stuff for good. Isaiah paid the wince-inducing price for the Pilsner, either it was really good, or this place was drastically over-priced, he sipped his drink, facing the bar rather than the stage.