Competition (open)

The woman actually looked like she might be on the prowl. But it was truly hard to say what she seemed to be looking for. She didn't seem interested in the patrons. She didn't seem interested in the alcohol.

But she was definitely interested in something.

The sharp dressed man with one eye, sitting in the corner looked like he had been prowling. He licked his lips and one might think he was digesting a good meal. He looked around the club now more out of almost bored interest.

The brunette was actually sitting at the bar. She largely looked bored, but her eyes kept moving. Across the patrons, across the servers. She pursed her lips as she watched everyone milling about, dancing to the most God-awful music she had ever heard in her life.

Almost like she was waiting for something.

Victor's gaze lingered on the brunette as he looked over the place. She was at least interesting. He had the waitress send her a drink with his compliments.

She didn't look confused as the drink was put in front of her. But she did look mildly annoyed. She glanced over at the man and lifted the glass in a gesture of thanks -- but she did not, however, drink from it.

Victor raised his own untouched glass in salute and smiled

She, however, did not smile. She just continued to scan the crowd, her lips pursed in an almost annoyed sort of way.

It was then that the Brujah walked in. It was the first time, or so it seemed, that he'd been seen in public in months. For a moment, he paused, his eyes scanning the crowd and damn if he didn't look good. He was dressed casually, black slacks and a crimson button down which he left untucked. He'd rolled the sleeves up some, to about the middle of his forearms. His long dark curls were neatly brushed and fell to just barely brush his shoulder and his face was, as always, unshaven, host to a goatee and perpetual five o'clock shadow. All in all, he was indeed ruggedly handsome, surrounded by an air of both mystery and confidence.

He noted victor but chose not to acknowledge him. He also noticed Amunet. It hadn't been the first time he'd noticed the Setite in this bar either. first thing was first though. Chase made his way to the bar and stood patiently waiting for a bartender's attention.

Where there is one, the other is soon to follow. She seemed to relax a bit on her stool, though she didn't actually stop her scanning of the crowd. Though, at least now, she wasn't scowling quite as much.

Idly, Victor wondered if the Sheriff's latest toy would cause another row, and went back to looking over the room.

Ali came out from the elevator, the thigh high leather books, went with the outfit, her long brown hair was down in ringlets, with a a red leather head band keeping it out of her face, as she walked behind the bar, then started to take control of the club from here.

Instantly the staff that had been half working, stood straighter, started to work more and even the DJ seemed to be more on task as the manager hit the floor.   She looked over the bar to see whom was in this evening and seeing the dress, jewelry and a few she recognized she pulled out the true top shelf liquor and started working her bar.

Walking up to Chase, "What can I get you this evening sir?"

Griselda certainly knew how to pick 'em. Ali was eye candy for the masses, to be sure, but she was also a damn good manager and as she came behind the bar, Chase said, loud enough to be heard over the music, "Two finger of the McAllen thirty year, on the rocks if you don't mind."

Because it was a bar owned by a Scot. Of course it would have decent scotch.

It was one of the bottles she had pulled out, she went over and pulled down the bottled used the frozen ice "balls" as not to water down the scotch, and poured him what he requested. She set it down beside him, "Anything else at this time?" with a smile/smirk that wasn't unfriendly but didn't give one the right to get "too" friendly either.

The woman at the bar perked up a little as Ali came back behind the bar. Why? Because yes, the girl was eye candy. And the woman wasn't picky. Not a lesbian, of course, but she did appreciate beauty when she saw it.

Chase shook his head, "No, not right now, thanks."

Chase took out the cash for the drink and another forty or so percent and left it with Ali, "Keep the extra." because better tippers got better service.

Victor caught Ali's attention and signaled for her.

And now Amunet was amused. Utterly amused. She didn't laugh, but it was becoming difficult to not.

Ali looked at him, "Sorry sir your drink is on the house." pushing his money back with a nod to him, before he could argue with her. She made eye contact with Victor and a nod to him, then she moved to Amunet, "What would you like this evening... to drink." with the same smile she gave to Chase.

She smiled.

"A glass of cabernet sauvignon, please."

"Fresh bottle, year preference or just what I have behind the bar?" pulling out the wine list for Amunet to look over before she answered her. She did a barely there glance around to make sure everyone was doing what they were to be doing, but not enough to make Amunet feel neglected it was briefly, and then her full attention was back on the lovely woman before her.

She smirked a bit.

"What you have behind the bar is fine, dear."

At that point, Chase smiled, took the cash back and then turned from the bar and made his way over to Amunet's table. He didn't swagger, but there was something about him, it was like confidence rolled off of him like water breaking over stone.

Only after Ali had left to get the wine did Chase ask "This seat taken? And if not, you mind if I join you?"

The question was direct, but Chase's English lilt added a kind of cultured polish to it. Of course, it might have helped that his face had that kind of perpetual sort of smirk and charm seemed to ooze out of every pore.

The woman couldn't help but smirk. She may not have been like Estaban; she may not have had any interest in actually getting into the pants of anyone in particular (or everyone). But she could still enjoy physical beauty when it strolled up to her. As such, she leaned slightly forward, that smirk playing around her lips the entire time.

"I would be greatly disappointed if you sat, Mister Covington, and ruined my rather nice view of such a perfectly sculpted rump. But nothing would please me more than for you to join me."

Ali took back the list, nodded to her then moved behind the bar, pouring the glass of cabernet sauvignon, waiting till Chase was seated, pouring Victor a glass of what he ordered last time, and then pausing at Amunet long enough to drop off her glass of wine and to see if she wished anything else, before moving on to Victor.

The woman seemed pleased with just the drink, holding out a credit card between her index and middle fingers -- the universal sign for Ali to start a tab for her.