Malik was neither desperate, nor was his house, the house of Vrai, that high up on the social chain to need the services the Blind Eye normally offered, but the night had him restless; the curse eating at his cold exterior just a bit too much to be comfortable being still. Gambling was not something he enjoyed, but keeping appearances was something that every Vint knew was important, and with the barrier now down, the Blind Eye was a perfect place for clandestine meetings to take place, for smuggled goods and drugs to change hands. He’d never been privy to anything drawing Eyes to the establishment, but if he were going to find a place to trade contraband, it would be here, Malik noted as he finally made his way into the den of inequity.
Several scantily clad dancers caught his eye, his bare face unmasked yet still masked as no emotion passed over his features. Malik was there as a Vrai, the last male heir of a lesser family, but still a male heir that had every reason in the world to be, at least, interested in the debauchery that could be afforded in such a place. A coin rolled across his knuckles as he walked the floor, his customary black working leathers instead replaced with a deep green silken robe, his long hair swept back from his face, but left long for the evening out. He passed a gaming table, the casual look at the playing pieces raising a brow slightly. There happened to be a noble leaving with nothing left to his name before the evening was done, Mal was sure of it.
He had no want to gamble. His fortune, what little left there was, was reserved for his half sister’s dowry. He would find her a good marriage, ensure that she at least would live comfortably in his absence as head of household, and then he would be able to sink completely into his service to something more than himself, even if that was the dishonest reasoning why. He felt no kinship to his half sister, her blood held no curse, so it was more the name that held him beholden.
No, Ella was more sister than his half-sister, and his loyalty was to her. He had half expected to find her wife wandering such a place, as flamboyant as the woman was, but thankfully it seemed that she had calmed some after her incarceration. So gambling would not be the vice to fill the gaping maw that opened in the curse’s hunger, he knew that games of chance, were never in the better’s favor, but the house. He could ill afford having a spinster charge for the rest of his life.
Drawing close to a bar, he ordered a drink, a darker skinned dancer catching his eyes for more than just a few seconds as she walked across the floor, before his face returned to it’s normal disinterested stare, a drink set in front of him, which he took a mouthful of as he signaled to open a tab, before going and finding a seat to watch the show, gold coin still rolling over knuckles as he folded himself into the couch, dark eyes taking everything in. He made sure that he looked open to being joined, if someone joined him it would be a good opportunity to gather some intelligence he might not otherwise have.
Several scantily clad dancers caught his eye, his bare face unmasked yet still masked as no emotion passed over his features. Malik was there as a Vrai, the last male heir of a lesser family, but still a male heir that had every reason in the world to be, at least, interested in the debauchery that could be afforded in such a place. A coin rolled across his knuckles as he walked the floor, his customary black working leathers instead replaced with a deep green silken robe, his long hair swept back from his face, but left long for the evening out. He passed a gaming table, the casual look at the playing pieces raising a brow slightly. There happened to be a noble leaving with nothing left to his name before the evening was done, Mal was sure of it.
He had no want to gamble. His fortune, what little left there was, was reserved for his half sister’s dowry. He would find her a good marriage, ensure that she at least would live comfortably in his absence as head of household, and then he would be able to sink completely into his service to something more than himself, even if that was the dishonest reasoning why. He felt no kinship to his half sister, her blood held no curse, so it was more the name that held him beholden.
No, Ella was more sister than his half-sister, and his loyalty was to her. He had half expected to find her wife wandering such a place, as flamboyant as the woman was, but thankfully it seemed that she had calmed some after her incarceration. So gambling would not be the vice to fill the gaping maw that opened in the curse’s hunger, he knew that games of chance, were never in the better’s favor, but the house. He could ill afford having a spinster charge for the rest of his life.
Drawing close to a bar, he ordered a drink, a darker skinned dancer catching his eyes for more than just a few seconds as she walked across the floor, before his face returned to it’s normal disinterested stare, a drink set in front of him, which he took a mouthful of as he signaled to open a tab, before going and finding a seat to watch the show, gold coin still rolling over knuckles as he folded himself into the couch, dark eyes taking everything in. He made sure that he looked open to being joined, if someone joined him it would be a good opportunity to gather some intelligence he might not otherwise have.
06-17-2024, 03:16 PM
