"See Caesar and Jewish Nose over there?" Surpanakha pointed out. Caesar was, well, a Caesar lookalike, potbellied and balding. Adjacent to him was Jewish Nose with a nose more like a beak than an olfactory appendage.
Said fuckers also had an amazing view of the arena below. "Seriously, what the fuck is it with Latin men? So hit and miss. They're either sexy as fuck or hairy, obese men with grabby hands." Something Surpanakha and Naamah had begun to understand intimately while in the brothel. Not that they actually gave the apelike men a sporting chance, but what the hell.
Next to her, the former queen of Hell had to smile. Latin men were such men; it was actually appalling. She'd seen her share inside of the brothel, which they had both managed to sneak away from, and here they were the same animals she saw on a daily basis. Maybe even the very same.
"I see them. Do you think anyone has ever asked Caesar when he's expecting?"
Surpanakha snorted. "Considering how much the men like to fuck each other here, I wouldn't be surprised." The brothel had just as much male prostitutes as female, though the senators did seem to have a preference for each other instead of their baser, lower born kin.
"Anyway," she continued, waving her hand in dismissal. "What say you to getting their seats?"
Naamah didn't mind if the men fucked each other. To each their own. That meant fewer slimy folk draping themselves all over her. If the men wanted to swordfight downstairs, she wasn't going to protest. After all, she had other things to complain about, like ugly men taking up all the good seats.
The demon smoothed a hand down her side, reveling in the silky material beneath her fingers.
"I say, what are we waiting for?"
Surpanakha laughed as they made their approach. Pregnant (yes, his nickname had gone from Caesar to Pregnant at the drop of a hat, thank you) and Jewish Nose looked up as they arrived, eyes widening at the sight of two whores in the light of day.
"Now which one of you would give their seats up for two tired ladies?" she drawled, eying them with faux desire.
Pregnant scowled, as if he was as perturbed by hormones as he appeared to be. "Listen here, we paid for these seats."
Following with the act, though she despised having to fake desire for someone she could never have an orgasm for, Naamah slid up behind her partner in crime, almost resting her chin on the smaller woman's shoulder. She trailed light fingertips over Surpanakha's upper arm.
"Would you send two beautiful women away when they've come all this way just to see the games? That would be cruel."
Jewish Nose was beginning to sweat, Surpanakha could see, but Pregnant was holding fast. Pouting, she decided to take it up a notch, playing with the neckline of her dress.
"So, so cruel. And we could offer you a much better view."
At once, Jewish Nose was on his feet, tugging on the sleeve of his companion's robe. But Pregnant still peered up at them disdainfully, and Jewish Nose was too slim to haul the man to his feet. "Yeah? I'm going to need a little more than that."
"Your friend has the right idea," Naamah purred against the other girl's shoulder, just before slipping away to tend to Jewish Nose. The man man might as well had never seen a woman before, the way he looked at and reacted to her as she pressed one lovely hand to his chest.
"Besides, dearest, what do you have to lose but money? You seem like you have enough to guarantee yourself another seat." Another hand slipped down to take Jewish Nose's as she spoke to the man once known as Caesar. "What are a few games to you?"
Resolve finally broken, Caesar got up. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Surpanakha slipped into the vacated seat. Once Naamah had done the same with the other seat, both men eyed them expectantly.
With a sigh, Surpanakha bared one breast, for all of two seconds. "Now scram."
One slender thigh was exposed, all the way up to the hipbone, but Naamah didn't make a move to cover herself up after. Exposure was hardly a problem, especially in this society. She waited until they had both disappeared in a fit of sweat and anger before slipping the material back over her leg and tossing dark hair over one bare shoulder.