[ P ] oh her body is bible

I'm starvin darlin'

Melinoe had business to tend to in Inverness and by business she meant business – Such as checking up on her favorite girls and enjoying the temporary respite from the Imperials. She perused the shops to pick up some gifts, a few shiny things, and even some trinkets she thought the working girl's pups would like. On her way to the Howling Moon, a captivating scent caught her attention, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. The aroma was rich and nutty with just a hint of bitterness. It smelled like something that she shouldn't have. Unsurprisingly, that made her want it all the more.
Her gaze drifted over a soft, petite, lass. From a glance, she seemed a stranger to violence but she knew better than to assume. Rare few women, especially in the highlands were spared from it.
She was a blend of caramel and cream with just a hint of white. Gorgeous as her coat was, the real danger was in the eyes; They were a stark shade of blue as if the ocean had shed a small part of itself. Without a doubt, she was the type of woman to break hearts. The kind that left a woman aching and hollow... And with eyes like that, Mel would let her.
With a confident shake of her own pelt, Melinoe moseyed over, ready to engage her with her signature blend of thuggish charm. Didn't matter to her whether she was a working girl or not, or even if she was married or single. She'd gotten herself into plenty of trouble that way but it was always worth it. "Excuse me, miss?" She said politely. "Would it be too forward to say that lookin' at you... I think I've finally found religion?" Melinoe armed herself with her best smile. She always liked to dance the line between boldness and humor. Frankly, she thought it charming but not everyone took to it. She was just as prepared to get a smack to the snout.
Course, her pickup lines weren't just a bluff. Hells, she meant every damn word. She'd get down on her knees and start prayin' if that's what the lass wanted.

let me put my lips to somethin'...

Tonight was a difficult night here at The Howling Moon. Cybele was usually a fan-favorite among the patrons, but for the past weeks or so, business was unusually slow. The young woman chalked it up to the battles taking place amongst the Imperials and Jacobians, but it still didn't make sense. After so much bloodshed and violence, wouldn't a good night of fun and drinking be just the cure to the stress war gave?
The cream lass lingered by the counter, batting her lashes at newcomers in hopes that they might want to hire her for an hour or so. The most she got was a snort and a once-over, and if they were kind enough, a lie: "maybe later, Cybele".

She scoffs, ready to end her shift for the night and hit the high road, when finally, a voice causes her to part ways from giving up. Cybele Clarke turns her head around to look at the woman, somewhat rugged... somewhat attractive. Nothing up to Cybele's standards, anyhow. But a compliment was a compliment, and Cybele enjoyed basking in flattery.

The whore puts on her best smile, leaning back from her seated position and speaking in her angelic and melodic voice, "Looking at me is just arriving at the gates of paradise. If it's entry you seek to said paradise, I can surely take you there."

She stands up, pink nose wriggling, trying to get a gauge of just how much coin this woman had on her. Cybele was juggling between throwing up an outrageous price or giving her usual rates. She'd never seen this earthen stranger though, and Cybele was always one to take risks when it came to scamming for additional pouches of coins. You can't blame her though, right? Business was horrendous.

"I charge forty." The woman firmly states, "My customers always leave satisfied."
--
@Melinoe

I'm starvin darlin'

The small charmingly confident woman had certainly made an impression. Her smile, like a creeping vine, twisted at the corners in its unique fashion. The sound of her voice like a siren beckoning her out into the deep so she might drown. Melinoe was accustomed to assessing situations and people with a critical eye, and the price for her services raised an eyebrow. It was hilarious to get held up by such a small lass. Truthful, she didn't mind all that much. If anything, it heightened her curiosity. Forty was a sum more significant than she was accustomed to, but whoever said paradise would be cheap?

"A fair price for paradise, I'm sure," Melinoe responded, her crooked smile tinged with amusement. "I'll throw in a drink if you'll have one with me." Her gaze shifted to the interior of the Howling Moon, lingering on a mug of frothy golden liquid.

She claimed a seat at the bar and flagged down a server. "Mead for me and whatever the lady wants." Her mouth felt as dry as desert sand, and the thought of that sickly sweet mead and its thick, sap-like texture beckoned to her. Much as she anticipated peeling back the layers of intrigue that surrounded her company, she was also partial to good mead. In the meantime, she didn't mind a little harmless conversation. "It's been a while since I've been back here. Worked here long?"

let me put my lips to somethin'...