Lucien approaches the two minotaur bouncers with the easy, unhurried confidence of a man who has never once been turned away from anywhere in his life, hands in his pockets, grinning up at them like the sheer size difference is a logistical inconvenience rather than a genuine threat.
"This is a proper establishment." The larger one holds up a hand. "No freeloaders."
Lucien pulls out a fistful of gold and lets it catch the light.
"Do you take cash?"
Both minotaurs grin at once, wide and immediate, and swing the door open with a flourish.
"Welcome to Pooky's Palace of Pleasures." They bellow in unison.
Lucien steps inside, greeted instantly by the thick, warm scent of perfume layered over something considerably more sinful, the room dim and softly lit, velvet drapes swallowing most of the daylight until only pockets of warm, amber glow remain.
