aeliamaia:
*
Aelia sometimes like to make her way to the burlesque lounge after a long night at Dante’s, to see pretty things spin on the stage instead of the blood soaked cages that housed the fighters that she hired. She nursed her normal two fingers of whiskey, neat and she liked to sit bar side so she could hook her boots on the stool and watch the room. It wasn’t bad feeding grounds – disgusting men would become inebriated and wander drunkenly out the back door, easy pickings and she would often be found with their hearts in her hands, feasting on their magic or their life. Blood staining her hands as it dripped down her forearms and pooled onto the pavement, it was hard to care much for consequence once you’ve already swallowed grave dirt and she never could become truly clean no matter how much time skipped around. Blood could always be found dried underneath her fingernails with grave dirt crusted to the bottom of her boots.
She’s become comfortable with wherever she winds up and yet the bartenders voice breaks through her trance. “They’re hot. I like the way they spin around the pole.” She lifts her empty glass. “I’ll have another.”
⚜
Cal could appreciate someone straightforward. They were hot which was the entire reason this bar was as filled as it was. It gave the sense of superiority, of being classy, what with the performers on stage being decorated in feathers and the slow disposal of a glove being drawn out over minutes. The people who came to see the shows tended to think themselves as better than those that went to strip clubs and Callista had always liked her souls with a little side of self-righteousness so it all worked out in her favor.
She refilled the glass of the woman easily, then leaned forward a bit to be able to talk over the music. “They don’t usually take customers after a performance but if your offer’s good enough, they might make an exception.”
