voicetest | Canon is Jessica Jones; Setting

"I think I might quite like to take a holiday. Go the sea maybe, get a tan. Have you ever been to Italy?" The bartender shook his head. It wouldn't have mattered if the man did; the well spoken Englishmen in the tailored patterned suit of deep purplish-blue wouldn't have wanted to hear it. "Ah," he tsked with a shake of his head. "Shame. I hear they've got great parties. Last til dawn. And the women?"

He sucked in an appreciative breath through his teeth and shook his head once in wonder before taking a shallow drink. "I wonder if I shouldn't just.. take a tour of the country. See some new scenery. Bit too dirty around these parts for me nowdays. No one has the same self respect anymore. Disgusting, don't you think so?"

The bartender was still staring at him, compelled and rooted to the spot. "Yes." The glass in his hands being wiped clean had been clean ten minutes beforehand but Kilgrave wanted the company. He didn't seem to mind the repetitive movements; in all actuality, he found them.. quaint. Like he might be in a movie or something.

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Isabelle sort of loved scoping out bars and clubs. They were always the most fun, even if they didn't actually result in taking out various demonic forces; at the very least, she got to get out for the night, dress up a little, have some fun. She'd been watching the man at the bar for a while now, mostly out of curiosity. She and her brothers caught wind of some kind of weirdness going on, and she was the one to check it out. Naturally. She was the prettiest.

She was decked out in a slinky dress - black, naturally - that clung to her in all the right places, her hair curled slightly and pinned to one side, tumbling over her shoulder. Her Marks were glamoured away, her weapons all hidden from view, the ruby around her throat not even thrumming slightly. Good to know, at least.

She drained the rest of her glass of water, then crossed over to the bar, heels clicking on the floor. Kilgrave was shot a coy little smile, as she slid into the seat next to him, and then the bartender got her attention: "Vodka cranberry, thanks."

Kilgrave glanced over as the dark haired woman sat down and returned her smile with a crooked half grin of his own. He did so like dark-haired women. It made their skin glow somehow. As she ordered, he propped his elbow on the bartop for a drink, subtly gesturing a 'Go ahead' to the bartender with his eyebrows.

No need to keep a lady waiting.

"You can put it on my tab," he directed to the now animated man, looking over at Izzy with a charming, playful smirk. "If the lovely woman doesn't object?"

Always nice to not be kept waiting. She wasn't quite observant enough to realise that the bartender was only doing what she asked because Kilgrave told him to, but she knew that something was up. Something got this guy on their radar, she just didn't know what. Hopefully, she found out. Sooner rather than later, maybe.

But she grinned anyway, acting as innocent as she could as she turned her attention his way. "Not at all. Who minds when attractive guys buy them drinks?"

"Almost no one with any good sense." Smiling, he took a shallow drink and shifted in his seat a little, seeming to face her a bit more but realistically, he only leaned towards her like they were sharing some passing secret.

"Of course there is always one exception, am I right?" He chuckled. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"Exactly," she replied cheerfully. Her drink was set in front of her, and she twisted a little to face him, crossing her legs to reveal a bit more of her pale thigh. His next remark earned a little laugh before the compulsion set in like a bit of a haze; still, it didn't yet register. There was nothing weird about being asked one's name, and it wasn't like she cared enough to create an alias.

"Isabelle," she answered easily, not batting an eye as she took a sip of the drink, maintaining eye contact all the while.

"Isabelle," he repeated with a softly surprised lift of his eyebrows and short nod that gave way to a quick glance down everything that she silently offered.

"It's almost as beautiful as you are," he continued, warm brown eyes coming back to her face. "What brings you out tonight?"

She did love a good compliment, even in the field of duty, and his got a little grin out of her. She was also pretty sure that he was luring her into a sense of security, where she'd feel safe telling him things. Or something like that. It was just a feeling she got, though she'd have to actually ask Jace and Alec if it was even remotely accurate or just her.

But hey, they were all sceptical of this guy, and there had to be a reason.

As of right now, though, Isabelle did feel weirdly comfortable telling him things.

"I'm checking things out. Call it patrol."

Canon is Jessica Jones; Setting - A high end hotel bar

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