1800 Hours, Diagon Alley

Gold eyes hidden behind faux chocolate lenses, Victoria found herself out and about once again. Her lithe body feeling tight, her muscles aching - she was uncomfortable in her own skin. But it was a typical feeling for so soon after a full moon. Especially one where she hadn't been able to hunt; that was the worst part.

Her choice of entertainment that night was lacking, a somewhat rundown bar that seemed to cater to the shiftier side of possible clients. She felt eyes on her as she walked in, but felt no need for insecurity as she stalked up to the bar, sitting herself down on a stool. The leather was torn on the top, creating a discrepancy in the usually smooth surface. It felt strange to Victoria's smooth skin, but she felt no need to relocate herself.

"I'll take a bourbon," she growled at the bartender, who in turn gave her a glare and set down the drink in front of her unceremoniously. Victoria nursed her need for liquor slowly, taking short sips at a time before downing half the glass. The alcohol burned in her stomach and down the back of her throat, satisfying her need for a while.

What she really needed was something raw and bloody, but folks around here didn't take too kindly to people eating like that. Especially not attractive women who were drinking bourbon like it was water. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as the door opened, letting a draft sweep in through the bar. She didn't bother to look behind her though, because the bartender had set a new drink before her and she was drinking the beverage through crimson lips.

James had not seen a bar this run down in Diagonally in a while.  He actually had to check to make sure he had not stumbled into Knocturne by accident.  Not that James minded that particular alley and his former watering hole used to be there.  Since then however, Cinaed had been caught up in some nasty press and James could not afford to be seen with him.   After checking what he ate today, he figured he could afford a firewhiskey.  His practice had not gone well, but he knew that was how improvement happened.  You sucked at something, then you sucked less at something, until you eventually became passable.  If you did it long enough, you became good.  Still, his thoughts were distracted by a pretty woman.  A welcome distraction James thought.

The lady seemed to be imbibing a form of whiskey at a rather quick rate.  Not bothering to hesitate given the situation, he walked up and sat down beside her without pretense.  As he sat down, he quickly spoke,

"Firewhiskey please," before turning to the woman he hoped to take home tonight.  Sometimes James wondered if the species would actually reproduce without alcohol.  Most guys needed alcohol to talk to women, and then they needed alcohol because they were talking to them.  James was convinced there was no way humanity would survive without it.  Putting aside the tangent, James started to chat her up.

"So do you like whiskey, or is there a hole in your glass?  Seriously though, I know a couple of other places you should try," James offered.  He intentionally left out the 'like my house' that should have been appended to the previous sentence.  Unlike most pickup lines though, he actually was not lying.  He did know of a few places to take a girl to drink whiskey.  He also had a fairly good collection at his place as well.  Still, he needed the girl to go with him before taking her back to his place.

Victoria curled one hand into a ball, wondering why exactly this man was sitting next to her. She didn't want to call him a pretty boy, but he gave off the vibe of one like that. She busied herself with memorizing the writing on the wall; beer prices, opening and closing times, something to pass the time while she got her fix.

Oh so he was a Firewhiskey kind of guy, not surprising. Briefly, she wondered if he was a potential client. But the Scot wasn't here to evaluate people and scope out people who would be requiring her services - she was here to drink, and potentially accept people who asked for her help.

The pickup line was pretty bad, it didn't take a sober woman to realize that. She turned her head to look at him, up and down. He didn't look half bad, and he was confident. But what the hell did that matter on a night like tonight?

"Didn't notice a hole," she said in a low, gruff voice; hoping her overall bad-attitude would chase off this man so that she didn't have to resort to other means. "No matte' where I go, the liquor is th'same, unless the keep waters it down." Victoria took another sip, the warm feeling leaving her with the feeling she'd often had after going drinking with her father after full moons, once she had been old enough of course.

"If you are knowin' of these... otha' places, why would you come here?" She threw at him, more of a rude statement than a polite question.

James wondered if the woman was on her time of the month or not.  He honestly had no way to tell, but he did not think he line deserved that sort of a reaction.  Still, she had asked an honest question, and an honest question deserved an honest answer. 

"To be honest, one of my favorite watering holes used to be in the far end of Knockturn.  Due to the proprietor having some difficulty with the ministry, I cannot go there anymore.  I keep trying to find another place to go after practice but thus far I have not really settled into some place where everyone knows my name.  I thought this bar might be it, but thus far the only good thing this bar has going for it is you," James flattered, figuring he had been too subtle on his previous pick up line.  Now that he thought of it, he had not seen Cinaed in awhile.  If he did, he would have to try to bribe get the shepherd's pie recipe from him.

He knew one did not drink whiskey like water unless they had some worry or need.  Though the girl was stunning, this bar seemed too shady for James's taste, which said a lot since at one point he had been a regular at the Black Chimera. 

"So what brought you out tonight?" James asked, wondering if he could get her to open up a little.  James assumed that a girl did not sit alone at a bar unless she had a reason.  And if she did not want to get picked up, James did wonder why she was here in the first place.  James thought a girl as good looking as her could have gone to any number of places and not pay the cover.  James knew that something was off, but could not tell precisely what.

He'd been into the far end of Knockturn, and made it out alive. Impressive, and it was a good quality that Victoria looked for in the people she associated with. The ability to survive in Knockturn, she mused to herself quietly, it was a feat for most. Especially now that Victoria was starting to think that she had seen this guy's face from somewhere...

The flattery felt good to the irritable woman, if only for a minute. At least, now she knew what this guys end game was; or at least she thought she had it figured out. And it flattered her even more to think that this guy wanted her in his bed, even if that wasn't exactly her end game for the night.

"You're givin' it a good effort," Victoria said, "But I'm lookin' for something different right now, but I could be persuaded..." She gave him a little glance, shrugging her shoulders as the whiskey warmed her from the inside. Staving off the alcohol need made another need rear it's ugly head, especially because she hadn't satisfied that need the night of the full moon. Poor hunting, that was.

"You obv'ously 'aven't seen me about before, because when people typically seek me out, they 'ave somethin' that needs ta be done." She said, finishing off her second drink. "If you know what I mean by that, if you don't, I suggest you move on."

She extended a hand, "Name's Victoria Andrews. People call me Victoria. Others who 'aven't taken my suggestion have found themselves on the wrong end of a wand." Or my claws, she thought to herself, giving a grim smile.

James tactic worked slightly.  He wondered if his initial posture of PMS was accurate, given her sudden change in disposition.  Still, giving a good effort was not what James had in mind.  But if she could be persuaded, James would keep that in mind.  James actually did have something in mind that needed to be done.  Ever since he had stopped going to the black chimeara, his performance had sagged slightly.  Whatever was in that concoction, made James a better quidditch player.  He might have an idea there.  After she introduced herself, James did the same.

"The names James Forrester.  Pleasure to meet you," he said, the years of pureblood etiquette crammed down his throat making him act like a diplomat.  James wondered if he should have acted more like a quidditch player and less like a pureblood for his introduction, but decided that really did not matter either.  He had an idea, but this location was too insecure for his taste.  Not that James had much experience with cloak and dagger-type stuff, but he figured that this place was far too public.  James needed to keep a relatively low profile for his idea to work. 

"Well, I do not know what you do, but I can infer.  And if I am guessing correctly, I do not want to know what you do.   For the moment.  I may have need of your services...but this location is not the best place for business.  For now though, you said you were looking for something else.  Assuming it is not business related, perhaps I can help you find it?  If the locale improves, we might discuss some business along the way.  Ordinarily I would not offer to help random strangers, but you intrigue me and I might have 'something that needs doing'.    That, and I think this bar serves watered-down whiskey," James said, the crimes against Ogden bothering him more than anything else.  The fact that he would spend some time alone with a pretty woman also helped persuade James to think this was a good idea.

Victoria's eyebrows knit together as James introduced himself, his odd behavior was questionable. It was a pleasure to meet her? More a pleasure to find out that this lad wasn't a rough-and-tumble man like she first believed, but there was some seed planted many years ago that forced politeness out of him.

"You guess correctly," Victoria said softly, but dangerously. "'Though, I've got nothin' that needs doin' to say, but I can assist you. Clients don't come lookin' to help, they come lookin' for help." She spoke lowly, her head tilted to help him hear what she spoke.

She stood up, sliding her money 'cross the bar to the keep, picking up her dark cloak from the  chair next to her. "If you got a place in mind, then lead on Forrester. Business is better discussed under the cover of darkness," she said. Victoria preferred not to do things out in the bright lights of daytime where the world was a stage and everyone was watching; no, nighttime was her stage, where no one watched.

Waiting for an answer, she twisted her back a bit; finding relief in the few vertebrae that crackled along her spine. Nothin' could be done about the rest of the pain until the alcohol did it's work, but she could distract herself; and the possibility of a new client was oh-so very distracting.

(((OOC: Godmodding approved by Nina/V. Andrews)))

"As you will, fair lady," James stated, once again succumbing to pureblood backstabbing etiquette.  Leaving some silver on the counter to cover their tabs, James walked through the door and held it open.  While holding the door, James tried to get a better read.  It was obvious that the young lass was living a rough life, but if she had clients that meant she was not doing too badly.  He assumed that she was a ne'er-do-well of somekind, but society always had uses for those who were willing to do what others would or could not.  As James wondered about that, and what it said about his idea, he figured that he could afford to think such things at a later date.  Though admittedly, if the girl was not as cute as she was, James probably would not have been doing this.

"Do you trust me?" James asked, unshrinking a broom from his robe.  Victoria gave her assent, and James let loose a pretty boy smile and his eyes gleam.

"Hold on tight - we are going to have some fun," James ordered - acting more like the quidditch player he was than the pureblood that his parents raised.  With a swift kick up, they were off like a rocket.  Hurtling at speeds that made one question wizards' sense, James gave the girl a quick aerial tour of london sans commentary.  Eventually, he came across a point where one could see the Palace of West Minster from the south side of the River Thames.  The view was impressive.  James had used it a number of times before, and it usually worked well.  Always trying to score with the lady, he said

"As long as we're here we might enjoy the view before getting down to business," James said, his voice husky and dry.  He would much rather be discussing pleasure than business with the young lady.  He wondered how his ‘persuasion’ was working.  If it was not working at all, he would then discuss buisness.  But he would be damned if he would not give this the old Durmstrang try. 

If James saw her as a fair lady, then he was severely misguided by the small amount of alcohol he had consumed. Either that, or his end game had blinded him to make him believe the pretty-girl facade that Victoria had adopted that night. come to think of it, she should have dressed down to attract less attention.

Hell would have to freeze over first though, because the Scot had no intention of ever playing it down.

Another pretty boy smile, of course. With the whiskey buzzing through her veins, Victoria gave a curt nod. "Don't think I'd use tha' word trust, though." It was more like a commitment to finding out what James wanted, besides, the agitated Werewolf needed to loosen up. Trust was a strange concept that might shake her out a bit.

She enjoyed the speed more than she should have, especially when she was trying to control herself. But hurtling through the air gave her the same thrill that a hunt did; high speeds and the lurking threat of danger was yet another one of her addictions.

Besides, she was clutching to a very well-defined Quidditch player, and the bundles of muscles beneath her hands were impressive. "I like your idea a'fun," she said, her voice deep and throaty to match the huskier tone of James. Now that she knew his weak point, she had him in the palm of her hand.

"Now, James," she purred into his ear, "What was it tha' you are looking for?"

James really wished he could meet women like this in the upper class.  With a few notable exceptions, almost all of the women his parents wanted alliances with him to date, most of them did not know which end of a broom flew forward.  Occasionally they paired him up with gems like Melanthe, but that was too much of an exception for James's taste.  Still, his brother had scared him off serious relationships in a way that would almost be comical if so many other pureblooded families people did not think he was a good catch.

Focusing his mind on the present, he could not really tell if his persuasion was working or not, but she at least followed him out here.  Using years of experience, James did a small acrobatic maneuver where flipped around the axis of the broom switched the way he was facing.  Now face to face with the pretty witch, he stated quite simply,

"I am seeking an edge.  But right now, I am looking at a beautiful woman.  Guess which matter I find more pressing?" James asked.  James figured this would probably be his best chance to see if he could...escort this girl home.  Leaning slightly forward, James somehow managed to inch closer to Victoria.  He leaned his head in with his eyes open.  He wanted to see how she would react to his movement.  If the reaction was favorable, James would try to kiss the girl.

Victoria was impressed by James flip, but her slight inability to hold so much alcohol back after a full moon was affecting her previous irritable mood. It wasn't that she felt sick or anything, but she definitely felt buzzed and with this highly attractive wizard in front of her, she was finding it hard to resist giving into another urge that was pushing it's way into her mind.

She briefly wondered what kind of edge he was looking for as he leaned in, a little too close for comfort, or so Victoria felt. With a broad grin, she placed a hand on his chest and held him where he was for now; not completely rejecting his advance, but she wasn't accepting it either. "It would be easier fo' the both of us... if you just tell me what you need, and then we can attend to other... more pressing matters." Her voice was low, and paired with her bad-girl charm she had, it probably wasn't helping her case.

All she wanted was to know what the edge was, once she knew that, she could consider giving into his not-too-subtle seduction techniques. The rest of the possible business transaction could be discussed later, but she was intrigued by what this pretty-boy Quidditch player could possibly need from a criminal like her.

James had hoped to keep business out of the discussion.  It seemed like the lady was not having it.  She still seemed receptive, but she was business first, pleasure later.  Though he somewhat expected this, he was still disappointed she had not yet jumped him and tried to strip him yet.  Admittedly they were on a broom, but that had not stopped some of the ladies he took here.  Usually if they were not feeling that adventurous they would at least suggest they go back to her place or his - whichever happened to be closer.  Still, James had a large number of edges he could go for, but he figured anything worth doing was worth overdoing.  He then thought of one of the more potent potions ingredients he knew of.  If she could get it, he might try it.  If she could not, James might ask her to assassinate his sister-in-law.  James thought about that for a little bit, but then decided against it.  He did not trust her that much. 

"Basilisk venom.  But like I said, I have more pressing matters to attend to.  Like the beautiful woman in front of me," James said.  Already close, this time James was far more aggressive.  Though she was still holding onto him, James somehow moved forward, trying to put her in a major lip-lock.

Victoria noticed that James was not used to being denied what he wanted, and at the moment, she was the thing he wanted. It seemed to agitate him, cause his built up aggression to make his words sharp. Pointed. There was a fire in him, and Victoria found it intriguing.

Basilisk Venom couldn't be too hard for Victoria; who had her way of getting what she wanted. It would be difficult, but she could do it. Or at least she was confident enough to think so. She wondered what James would use Basilisk Venom for, it was deadly. Unless he was planning on killing someone, there was no point in obtaining it. But as a general rule, Victoria didn't ask for her client's intent. "Venom, I can do that." She said in a rush.[1]

...End

1.	I figured we could establish OOC what the deal between them will be.