Faustine sits by herself at a table across from the bar, lazily stirring some vividly-colored cocktail with her fingertip. It's nearly closing time, and quiet, and she's considering moving elsewhere. It may be near closing time here, but there are plenty of 24-hour clubs spattered around the city, and surely there'll be something entertaining at one of them.
However, she'll give this one a few more minutes.
Just a few.

A few more minutes is all Bowman Licht needs to walk in and notice her.
He hesitates, pondering trying to disappear into the crowd--in this group, he doesn't stand out too much; a lot of black, some chains, heavy eyeliner. It's a simple matter, to belong at Dark.
But it's no use, because if she wants to play with him, she'll notice him regardless. But he could take the chance that she might not notice...
Or he could sit down across from her and stare resentfully.
Yeah.
He could do that.

"Hel-lo, Bo darling."
She smiles, the glow of her cigarette (since when does she have a cigarette?) reflecting off her sunglasses.
"How are you this evening?"

"Much worse, now."

He might have had plans of being polite and appeasing her, but I think they all pretty well just went out the window. He's glowering, as well as that delicate, pretty face can glower, eyebrows drawn inward, eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight together. If she were human, he could be giving her his scary demon look, which wordlessly suggests various tooth-borne injuries, but she is a goddess, so she gets his slightly frightened human glare.

"Oh, darling. I'm so hurt."
She mock-wilts, then leans forwards on the table, on her elbows.
"If it's really that bad, babe, you ought to just go home. Get some sleep. It'll all be better tomorrow."
Bo is the recipient of a catty smile.
"But before that... I've got something I want you to do for me."

"Well, I've got to eat." he glances back at the (dissipating) mass of writhing humans on the dancefloor.
Then, as an afterthought, he flips her the bird.
"Might as well get it over with, hm?"
His tone is very brittle, clipped.

"Tsk, tsk. Such manners."
She still smiles, and plucks a feather out of thin air, twirling it between her fingers.
"...You do have to eat," she muses, then looks at him over her sunglasses. "Tell you what, here's what you're going to do. You know of one Anthony Tucker, I believe?"
Smiiiile. Of course you do, Bo.
"You're going to feed on him," she purrs.

Slowly, his hands fall to the countertop.
"I can't do that," he protests. "He is Enrique's..."
Other boyfriend, or whatever.
"Something else other than that."
A trade?

"Mm, I thought you might say that."
She plucks another feather out of the air, and another, and another, and piles them on the table in front of Bo.
"What about a little...incentive?"

Bo does hesitate. He brushes one finger against the edge of a feather--he understands what she's saying--and a wistful look comes over his face.

He shakes his head, his hair flopping about.

"No."

"Honey, you're bound to this, remember. You said you'd do me one favor."
She blows on the feathers, and they vanish.
Yes, she does like to do party tricks every now and again.
"You can be a good little - whatever you are, and get a bonus. Or you can just get nothing."

"I don't want a bonus."
He wants his wings back, but he won't sell his soul to get them.
In fact, he thinks that he just...won't do what she says. But he isn't going to tell her that, of course.
He'd rather take punishment than hurt someone for a reward.

"Your funeral," she says, still smiling.
That smile could drive a person crazy.
On many occasions, it has.
"Just so long as you do it."

"Don't worry."
He forces himself to smile back.

He won't do it, and she'll smite him, and that will be that, right?

"I never do."
She stands, leans over the table, and blows him a kiss. It's an oddly weighty kiss, for something that's supposed to be intangible.
"Don't keep it waiting too long."

He swallows, and his smile turns sickly.
"Right after dinner," he says, which is a lie.

"Ah-ah, don't spoil your appetite."
Faustine wags a finger at him.
"You have to finish all of him, you know."

At that, the smile disappears entirely and he says not a word.

He seems to have suddenly lost his appetite.

Her smile widens. "I'll see you later."
Whether he does as she says or not - she'll see him later.
"Be good."

And she saunters out, trailing feathers.