[color=6ecff6]Béatrix:[/color]

Apparently this stranger was susceptible to her deception. How easily one can believe a lie if it boosts to the ego to do so. The rogue took it upon himself to grab her hand and kiss it. She let him raise the hand to his lips before she flipped it over and grabbed him by the chin. 

“I said that you could come in, not that you could touch me.” Her fierceness was echoed in her crystalline eyes. “You’re on my turf, and these are tense times, so you will play by my rules. Understood?” Trixy said with a dangerous sharpness to her words.

He introduced himself as Mithias as he went to walk by her, causing her to turn to the bar. In all her dramatic flair to get to the door, she had blown right past Praetor, who sat with his feet up on the bar. Forgetting the stranger for a moment, she glared at the ancient vampire. “Why are you here? If you’re here to defend your [i]precious[/i] family name, save your breath. We already know it wasn’t The Kingstons.” A small smile quirked on her lips, pulling them up slightly at the corners.

“Or maybe you just came for another show…” her smiled widened. “What was it that you called me when we last met?” she put a finger to her lips and tapped it in a mockery of deep thought. “A French whore, was it?” she chuckled and glared daggers at him. “Tisk, tisk” 

Trixy’s blue eyes flicked between the two [i]guests[/i] before she walked behind the bar. “Alistair will be out shortly, he has important matters to tend to for the moment. I don’t know about you fellas, but I for one, could sure use a drink.” She pulled a bottle of her favorite chartreuse out from under the bar and grabbed glasses.

[color=9e0b0f]Jareth:[/color]

“Ahh, Theo, you used to be so much more fun.” His lips twitched in a playful smile as he looked up at the elder vampire. He loosened his grip on Maria’s chin and shrugged his shoulders. He looked at Maria with feigned innocence and disappointment. “You heard the boss, looks like you won’t be blessed to have me for a night. I’ll have to find another to warm my bed with in your stead.”  Jareth said with a quick wink at her before letting go.

Jareth stood to his full height and put his hands in the pockets of his black leather skinny pants. His style was the perfect mixture of 80s rocker and modern indie chic – lots of black leather, studs, band shirts, piercings and [i]unique[/i] hair. “My day was fine, made another batch of O-neg to get out on the streets, made sure to personally test it for quality, and I even wrote a new song.” He gave the captive singer girl a knowing glance. “Pretty productive day all in all, but it looks like it was a bit more boring than yours.” He gestured to the girl. “All this trouble for one slave girl? Why not just take in a new one, this one perhaps, she seems far more interesting than this Adelisa that you have described.” Jar suggested, not really caring about being offensive - He was about as offensive as you can get, and had no regard for social cues or morality - not anymore, at least.