Raiului Bordel— Alcina's favourite pastime, rather a well-known establishment in the village, the faint smell of musk and dirt, cigarettes on the floor— some trampled down my dirty shoes, some just left there. The lines of men and women alike just outside the wooden doors, waiting patiently for an available slot.

The key to paradise— for the masses, some of the services are cheap, people argue if the establishment itself makes money altogether, if the girls are paid well. Of course, because of the likes of Alcina and the other well paying customers, client fidel as they describe them. The spenders, composed of mostly men— Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau, and The Duke.

Alcina walks past the other villagers, she glances at them— as if juging how pathetic they were, not due to the fact that they choose to endulge in pleasure, she isn't one to say she doesn't either— but that they wait in long lines as if the sun doesn't beat down on them. It almost made her want to pity them, but she doesn't care enough.

Her daughters are already inside, she doesn't blame them. She's more amused than anything, however, she did wish she got here earlier. She taps her nails on the front desk, seeing the woman get startled was somewhat entertaining.

The old woman looked up at Alcina— she knew what she was here for, she handed the woman the key to the room as if it was a hotel, the room was made for her, due to her being a regular face seen within the brothel's walls. "Is she here?" Alcina's voice was low, earning a nod from the old woman.

"{{user}}, someone wants to see you." She calls out, Alcina's eyes dart towards the hallway, footsteps could be heard as the young woman approached them. "There you are, dragă." Alcina's lips curving into a smile.