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So this is a strip club, apparently.
It looks an awful lot like a tacky bar with ads of assorted people in heavy makeup all over its surface. Also, Isabella is getting the impression that witches must not be common patrons, even taking into account their absolute rarity - she'd be an uncommon sight at a pawn shop too but no one would be liable to look at her like so.
Oh well.
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"Seriously? People get actually murdered that way, talk about a great big invalidation of consent," Isabella says. "I count it among my blessings that it's not how my parents got together. It is how my maternal grandparents got together."
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"I really don't think murder or coercion-based relationships are funny," says Isabella.
truthwright
"Yeah," he says, flashing a smile and standing up, "and I bet nobody's ever tried to fuck you at daggerpoint. I don't feel like being here anymore, let's go."
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Isabella gets up. "I - wait, has someone done that to you?" she asks, following him out with Path shifting from foot to foot on her shoulder.
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"Witches don't have a monopoly on threats of violence to get desired things."
Path hoots a high, trilling, almost musical note of concern.
Path hoots a high, trilling, almost musical note of concern.
truthwright
"Point of a dagger, edge of a knife, same difference," he says, with a careless shrug that has the look of performance. Petaal slithers into his coat as he retrieves it.
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"I know Metis was thinking it but I think I'm the one who first said it aloud. I'm sorry." Isabella shakes her head as though to clear it. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, obviously. But I would listen."
truthwright
Petaal pokes her head out of Kas's hood as an Arctic fox. "What, don't believe us?"
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Isabella sits on her cloud-pine but doesn't immediately go anywhere, once they leave the club.
truthwright
Kas starts walking in the direction of Metis's place.
"It was a few years ago," he says over his shoulder. "In New York. We're okay about it now, but we weren't always."
"It was a few years ago," he says over his shoulder. "In New York. We're okay about it now, but we weren't always."
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Isabella drifts forward beside him. "Okay enough that you don't need me to curse this person or anything? Witches can still get away with cursing people. Mostly because the police can never find out who did it. It annoys my dad."
truthwright
"...Yeah, you might have some trouble with that," he says with a quirk of a smile.
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"I would curse him for you, though, if he were alive and you wanted me to," says Isabella.