Who: Jesse Page and Emilia Blake What: Emilia's after a drink. Where: Brimstone Casino When: Friday evening Rating: TBA Status: Incomplete
Emilia wasn't happy. Not happy at all. For a woman like Emilia, there was something acutely unbearable about being forced to manage a sorry band of whores. They were less than filth to her - pathetic beings that could not seize anything for themselves if not by the grips of their cunts. It did not help that they reminded Emilia so much of her mother. Ah, her mother. She had been nothing nothing but a child stuck in a grown woman's body. Women like her, like these whores, they thrived off a man's protection. They delighted in being under a drunken fool's weight, the stench of his breath brushing over their skin.
Emilia couldn't stand it.
A drink was in order. As she made her way to the bar, Emilia's immaculate and professional (albeit short) grey dress set her apart from the casino girls in their too-tight shorts and fish net stockings. Those that understood her moods knew to back off, leaving her a wide berth of space. The bartender - an amusing daemonem who had no clue as to what he was - would give her some reprieve, at least. By now, he was aware of the volatility of her moods, as well as the usual objects of her scorn.
"Hit me with your strongest, Jesse," Emilia began as soon as she'd reached the counter, legs swooping up to occupy one of the seats. She let her blue-green gaze wander over him, appreciating the allure that came with demon's blood.