In every part of the world that she had ever been, it was here that she found the men perhaps the most curious, if only for the fact that so many of them appeared readily willing to, as they called it these days, flirt with the women that would frequent such establishments as this. Had Vitani been a feminist all for the rightful and proper treatment of women, then maybe she too would have been disgusted at the way those eyes would travel over her womanly figure, lingering much longer than was necessary to simply be "enjoying the view". Perhaps she might have been appalled, insulted, anything that might portray her lack of distaste at how it was that males tended to eye their women like slabs of meat. However, the fae woman hardly cared, if anything enjoying just how terribly easy it was to obtain that which she was so often on the hunt for. Although, she would also admit that she almost enjoyed it more when there was a man among the group who wasn't so easily interested. It was always the more cautious men that she had found herself enjoying much more. That being said, she would hardly turn down a favorable situation given the one who so took it upon himself to court her met all the required criteria. Like an experiences huntress, she was hardly interested in hares. Oh no, she wanted those trophy bucks that had it all. Money, looks, and ambition. A man that knew what it was he wanted and wouldn't stop until he grasped it securely in his possession, those were the most entertaining types of men. A fellow of high class, someone that would prove worth her while and false affections, that was what she was most hungry for. How amusing it was to think that she would be seeking another similar to her own usual visage and yet hardly desire for such a thing to result in the comforts of a long-lasting relationship.

Perhaps that was why she found herself lingering in those classier bars and restaurants, where the selection and its varied flavors were more to her taste and preferences. Not that it mattered in the least, but just how often was it that a married man would find himself here, where most of the individuals talking amongst themselves at the precisely placed tables and pristinely polished bar were likely searching only for temporary companionship, if he was not interested in female companionship that was not his dearly beloved? Let's rephrase that, how many happily married men would come here to simply enjoy the drinks and idle conversation when they could be at home drinking from their own oak cabinets with that ever-available company of the one that they had selected to spend the rest of their lives with? Hardly many. While this was hardly some club where today's generation would be found grinding on perfect strangers with that warm, drunken haze blurring their senses and ability to make wise decisions, it was still more likely that a majority of the individuals within this extravagant bar were without a significant other. That sometimes made the hunting a little easier, though in her both long â€" by mortal standards â€" and short â€" by fae standards â€" life it was not unheard of for the woman with long, luscious near-white hair elegantly styled and swept over her shoulder to play the role of mistress. After all, she could be just about any man's perfect woman if she so desired to be, and it was this almost sinful talent that she was able to play on to her favor. She could be sweet and shy, bold and daring, damaged and lost... the possibilities, the personas, they were practically endless for Vitani, and perhaps she really shouldn't pride herself in how easily she could make herself blend in with just about anyone she so chose simply so she could exploit them for what they had that she might want only to drop them the instant that she grew bored of them. Ah, but just because she shouldn't hardly meant anything to her.

She would smile that pretty little smile to the bartender as he would allow himself to be so distracted by her beauty, something she was all too accustomed to and thoroughly enjoying. The fae woman tended to have that effect on men, driving them to the point of forgetting anything and everything of remote importance all so they might "charm" her when in fact they had little idea that is was she who played the part of snake charmer, subjecting them to that allure openly even if she would only turn them away once she found that they were hardly worth anything to her. She would laugh at his brainless jokes, that gentle chiming note tumbling over plush lips as she played along. Until she finds what she was looking for tonight. Those peridot eyes travel across those foreign faces, not even sparing the other men one last final and fleeting look from the corner of those perfectly painted eyes when they settle over the man in that perfectly fashioned gray suit. It hardly took her any time at all to see that the man had money, for even from across the way she knows the difference between cheap and designer linens. His dirty blonde hair was just as immaculate as his attire, groomed and styled in a way that easily gave away the arrogant pride he likely took in his appearance. The way that he grimaces as he finishes the last of that amber liquor in his crystal glass hinting that the man was a creature of refined taste which only seemed suiting for someone with either age or class. She hardly misses the way he would cast a disgusted look over the other men still far too cowardly to gather up whatever courage they could to steal the seat next to her, and she would almost dare to say he wasn't from this day and age, the fae woman having long ago nearly perfected the ability to evaluate those she regarded â€" though of course there was always a possibility that he was just as skilled as she could be at playing many parts. Those sharp senses are just as quick to lead her to the assumption that he was certainly not human, and that just made things that much more interesting for her.

Blatantly disregarding the bartender after he returns from filling that man's glass, caring not for the look of disappointment that falls over the man's face, she lifts her glass and slides from her seat, walking over to him in slow and elegant, sweeping strides, that fine silken fabric of her dress only just barely brushing against the hardwood floor. There is a coy smile dancing across her lips, those his swaying with each step as jet black heels click against the floor. She was hardly hoping to surprise him or anything of the sort, though she doubted that she would have been successful even if she were trying, he'd already noticed her even though he didn't make any motions towards her. If anything, he only seems to lean farther over that bar as he draws another drink from that glass. She moves into the seat beside him with grace, crossing one leg over the other so that the split in her dress would show that soft, untarnished skin beneath as she places her own drink on the polished wood, propping her elbow on the bar and resting her chin over the back of her hand, blinking those thick lashes slowly over her glittering pale green eyes."I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't help noticing that you certainly don't appear to be enjoying that drink of yours, handsome", she purrs to the man before casting a glance down to that dark liquid in his glass, the harshness of it pressing against her own sense of smell."I prefer the more well aged liquors myself", she comments casually in a voice like milk and honey, smooth and sweet before looking back up to those brooding, cold blues."So what brings a gentleman like yourself to this quaint little place?", she goes on to ask him, intrigue flickering across those pale eyes that watched him ever so closely, deciding to play the part of the curious woman and allowing him to see nothing more than that, those intentions of her own hidden beneath that visage she played so beautifully, almost as beautifully as her appearance.