Dementia paid the guardswoman no mind at all, as if he was not concerned with her presence at all...just focusing on his 'generous host' that was sitting right across him. And to her statement, he just said,"I...was not making a threat, Madame. If I recall correctly, you asked what would I do if you were to refuse. And, to that question, I answered courtly. " He then raised a claw to make his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, just enough to expose his eyes to W'ineton. His serpentine eyes looked coldly into her, she would feel a sort of entrancing effect by looking into them...eventually it she would actually feel a sort of painful throb in the back of her mind, as well as some numbness in her limbs...though, oddly enough, she just couldn't stop looking into his eyes. The man gave off no emotions as he just stared into her before bringing his glasses back up and lowered his claw,"I do not give threats, my lady...such a thing is a beneath. Instead, I make promises...and like any other demon, I keep them. To repeat, I don't deliver threats...I deliver bodies..."<br/><br/>He held out his other claw and, with a flip of the wrist, a strange looking object appeared in his hand. It looked like some sort of brick or stone, of some sorts. It glowed like there was possibly some magic in the thing. His thumb began to tap in multiple parts of the surface as he said,"Though, I was hoping you'd respond more kindly to the offer...instead of refusing and even threatening to put me, of all things, into a stew...Luckily for you, my master keeps...a tight leash. But, do know...this path that you are now treading...will not have a pleasant outcome...for<i>anyone</i>..." He pressed the object one last time and brought the device to his ear. He raised his other claw with a finger pointing to the ceiling, telling them to wait one second. He waited a long while as his emotionless face and sunglasses stared at W'ineton as he listened attentively to the device, his head tilted to the side.<br/><br/>Eventually he started saying,"Yes, this is Dementia, I have a report. Yeah, she refused but-...uh-huh...uh-huh...yes...I-yeah...but what if-...uh-huh...but they-...yes...yes...of course...I will..." He brought the device away from his ear and grunted,"Needless to say...my master was not...pleased, with the news of your refusal. And, to my chagrin, it put me in quite the predicament...and I don't like being put into predicaments, Madame...But, I assume you don't care about that..." He practically tossed his object away, though no resulting sound of a crash or anything seem to have came afterwards. He leaned into the back of his chair and let his hands come together, the fingers drumming against each other. A tent came from his cheek as he tongue ran along it, showing that he was in deep thought for a moment...as if he was contemplating something. Suddenly the light-hearted playfulness that came from the man (over the shell of hostility and power that was there) was replaced with a tensity of that of a predator finding the best ways to capture its prey. And it stayed like that for awhile. But after the course of a minute and a half, he finally said more:<br/><br/>"My master is...coming up with a response, to your refusal. He is confident that he can find something to convince you to come to him willingly. He has asked me to stay here as he thinks of a response to help...persuade you, in going." He then leaned forward as he stood up and dusted himself off, straightened his casual-dress vest and tie,  and cleared his throat,"In the meantime, while he is thinking of a response, I will allow myself to make use of your bar. Don't worry, I will pay for any purchases I will make, and I will be sure to...call upon you, again...when my master has thought up of a response. Until then, my generous host, have a wonderful night." He then bowed politely to the host of the brothel and turned on his heel, casually strutting over to the bar that was on the other side of the bar, reaching into a pocket and pulled out a pocket purse where he kept his money.<br/><br/>It would leave one to wonder what exactly his 'master' had planned for W'ineton...and what exactly his 'response' would be. A forbearance was in the air that even the drunkards could feel as the Ramen man walked away from the 'Mistress of the House'...and some of the smarter of 'homing pigeons' already started to crawl out of the door. Whatever tragedy that was about to happen, they didn't want to be a part of it. But there was the many groups that, despite what the overall feeling was, they wanted the booze and tits they came for...there was always those types of groups around.<br/><br/>As Dementia came up to the bar, he sat on a stool and rested against his elbows as he looked up at a barmaid. The other patrons at the bar looked at the new guy with sneers and nervous glances, sliding down the bar just to get away from him, not even caring if they were pressing against other people...anything to be as far away as possible from him. The Ramen male grinned as he pulled out some coins and put it on the counter,"Scotch...and don't make it too fancy...just on the rocks...I won't be here for long..."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>