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There was a new act every Friday night. New being the code word for 'We don't feel like booking the same band all the time and new acts come cheap and on the weekend you'll be too smashed to care if they suck'. Yet to Marcus new was something interesting, something changing, something that broke apart routines and made life, or in his case unlife, a bit more interesting.

The bar itself wasn't packed, and most people were busy mingling. Not a dive, not high class. A good place to unwind, get a drink, and just relax. His own drink went down smooth though it didn't fill him. What he needed and wanted he'd already partaken of. Now he was enjoying himself, watching the people.
Watching the acts that came and went on the stage. Watching as one act had come and gone and left him just a touch curious. It wasn't everyday that he saw a lady who's voice was pleasing as her figure and frame. Nor, one who's very being was that of a kind he's never encountered before.

It was why Marcus rather enjoyed friday nights. New things always tended to pop up.

It was an act in itself to watch her navigate the throng of men and women of the club. One he took a small delight in watching how she spurred them, let then fawn and drop for her. They were like bloodhounds, sniffing for a chance at something they didn't realize wasn't there. Preformers came in flavors. The stars who used clout and cash to fend off the would be dogs. The fools who fell too quickly to fans and were all but swept away. Then there were the ones like her. Navigators. Ones who had an understanding of being in the spotlight and passing through it like it was just another day.

In his mind he factored her into such a category, smiling when she began to toss back her shots and let glass fall as she paid it no mind. She was definitely interesting and new. While bouncers might have moved he moved faster, seating himself between her and their line of sight, if just for a while. "I don't quite think that when you toss back a shot, you literally toss it back but if you must-" he pointed towards a garbage can a ways off "-make it into the bin and I'll pay for the next few."

He smiled, grinned even when she took up his offer. The fact she spoke to him was at the very least, a good indication that she wasn't so far gone in her drink that there would be no one to really have any sort of conversation with. "You set the terms." His hands held up, he didn't put any money on the table. "I didn't say or do anything. My turn however." The bartender looked at him skeptical and wary. Rightly so, he was guy encouraging bad behavior.. and looking to engage in it himself. Yet money was put on the table and so far Marcus had been a polite enough customer.

Shot poured, he didn't offer it, nor did he touch it. He let it sit as his eyes went to her ears and then down to her feet. They paused everywhere else, but lingered on the ears and feet. "Can't say I see someone like you everyday. Much less hear someone that good every night." It was the honest truth, and he shifted his veiw briefly to those on stage at that moment. They were normal. Nothing to write home about. They had fans, they had their looks but nothing racked up like the rabbit in front of him.

"But I liked what I saw and heard. More talent than other acts, and enough of a woman to know how to navigate a crowd." He downed his shot finally before turning his back and tossing the glass- hitting a rather tall looking drunkard who was unabashedly staring and a woman not to far from him. Marcus laughed under his breath, trying not to look like the guilty party as the man started to curse. "Well, up to you, does that count as hitting trash?"

To Marcus, terms were things that could be negotiated. Not until you agreed to them on both parties did they become binding- but with this bunny it looked like there would be no negotiations. Her way or the highway. Yet- he was okay with that. Challenges made things fun, and more than that, she was confident in her decision to stick to her own guns and not back down in the slightest. Plus, to show off as she did? Oh he'd be a dirty liar to say that that didn't get him into her and have him licking his lips before grinning, fangs glinting in the yellow light of the bar.

"Oh don't tempt me, I have a weakness for cute and fluffy things. As well as a... womanly assets." His gaze drifted back down to her rear before running back up her body, unabashedly staring at each part of her. "I'm already interested in you because of your act on stage, if you keep surprising me like this I'll keep wanting know a bit more about you." He wanted to- name, number, blood type maybe if he could get that far- if what he saw was really what he saw or rather didn't see at all. Undoing his coat he took it off and set it on the back of his chair, letting himself get a bit more comfortable. He might as well, because he didn't think he'd be walking away anytime soon, much less without at least getting a few of his own drinks on.

Money pulled out and slid onto the table, his own shot glasses were lined up. Just before he had the chance to enjoy one he felt a hand running across his a**. There was a moment of shock followed by a small chuckle as he reached back to pat his own a**. "If you want a full feel you're more than welcome to grab a handful- just be careful- I might return the favor." Tossing back his shot the glass bounced off the rim before hitting the floor, a few people jeering at him and telling him to stop sucking-

"I'll have you know that no one's ever complained about how I sucked yet." His voice jeered back to the heckler. He looked back to his bar 'buddy' though the term was loose at best. "How many shots do we have to score before we win?" His finger ran around the edge of his next drink. "And if what do we get if we win?"

Shot taken and thrown, Marcus didn't mind if it made it or not; he wasn't looking. His gaze rested on her and her alone, pondering just how far he was willing to go and willing to give. She was a woman who knew her strengths and how to play them, and if he wanted he needed to play on her terms. Terms that as she spoke, he realized he'd already begun to play and pay for.

"Tiffany? I go by Marcus, though if you come up with another name while we're busy I won't mind." His hand reached out fingers running up her shoulder to flick the strap down rather than aid in keeping it up. "You look even more delicious with the hints of things that could be hanging off of you like that." His voice dropped low, just enough to be heard, yet not loud enough to be overheard by the crowd around them. Though he guessed that she would speak bolder than he would.

" A little about me- I work as I need to. Odd jobs here and there that offer breaks from monotonous routine. My most common work is that of a historian if you can believe it." Ruffling his hair he let out a small sigh and began to work at the tie he wore. He had been running his own common edge of normacy, but now that time had passed. Pass and gon e running to the wind with him trying to play a desperate game to catch up. Tiffany was showing bit by bit just how fast she could run and he hardly wanted to give up his chase, not after coming as far as he had. She was also still someone who was interesting and alluring- and he'd be damned more than he already was before just giving up on her.

"My other line of work is the kind I prefer to show rather than speak. If I win, I'd love to have the chance to show you just what it is I'm capable of." Another shot downed he tossed it and missed entirely, grinning as the glass hit someone and then fell harmlessly to the floor. As the one who'd unfortunately gotten hit scowled at him, he started laughing. "Or I should just cut my losses and realizes that fate has decreed that I shouldn't win. I think with that I not only will be paying for your drinks but you also get to test me out."

His gaze was resting on the fallen strap and her neckline, tongue briefly peeking from his mouth to wet his lips. "I can do a lot more than sucking-" His eyes once again ran down and up her body. "If that seems a better test you'd like to run."