Askaree Bint Bahar
Under different circumstances Askaree might have found herself fit to entertain her mischievous whims at the expense of this wayward stranger as she so often found herself wont to do in similar situations during these torturous hours of involuntary servitude. However, the idle hours confined within this dusty shithole had not so slowly eroded away any entertainment value to be gleaned from this particular situation on this particular evening. Though the quips and jabs she takes at the faerie gentleman are much the same as her customary verbal digs, the delivery is decidedly more... venomous this time. Really, it called into question the caliber of his intelligence that he might joust this strange woman with such reckless abandon when in the presence of so very many implements with which she might impale him. Fucking idiot.
"Where I come from, we'd take the entire hand," she delivers flatly before setting aside the dagger she polishes so diligently to allow what remains of her scarse attention to fall upon the loose-lipped man before her. Chocolate eyes narrow as he proceeds to do what all men undoubtedly do when met with a woman lesser inclined to acquiesce to their presumably genetic requirement for the constant stroking of their egos or, gasp, seek to cut them off at the fucking knees to avoid any further testosterone-fueled flapping of their gums: act as though the entire situation was just one big goddamn jest. It was all fun and games until a man no longer had the upper hand in a conversation.
Easy, spitfire, said the fool to the dragon.
It is at this point that Askaree leans in towards her rather unwelcome companion for the next (hopefully few) moments, elbows resting idly against the aged wood of the weathered counter, the caramel crescents of her breasts pressed together with the shift to become ever more prominent within the low-cut craddle of her leather top in a manner that is both terribly flattering and not entirely unintentional. It was like chumming the waters, unless he was actually a "fairy" which, by the manner in which he seemed to peel back her clothing with his eyes, she presumed he was not. At least not entirely. What she offers next is delivered in a dulcet whisper, almost as if she were sharing some scandalous secret with a companion. "If I only liked 'polishing' small things I'd already have you in the back, stripped down and quivering with pleasure." A wink accents the possibly not-so-obvious insult before the entire facade melts into her customary mask of apathetic indifference. "If you're wanting to work out a supply deal you'll have to speak to the owner who, obviously, isn't here right now. If you're trying to take me out for a drink, well... you might be barking up the wrong tree, Tinkerbell. I guarantee I'd pick up more women than you and I would just hate to fuck with your manhood. So to speak."