( makoto is no stranger to opulence that pushed its boundaries into "ostentatious" and "gaudy," depending on the eye of the beholder, but it's a quality he likens to J's manor rather than to an establishment like this — datenshou's brothel had been a magnificent building, but it had had... at least some restraint. the demon's pale gaze falls upon the portraitesque quality of the statue wrought into the fountain, and he finds himself already sketching up potentially dangerous preconceived notions. he tries to discard them, but there's only so much he can do when surrounded by potential supporting evidence.

a flicker of motion at the corner of his eye is the first thing that alerts him to the shift of the serpentine statues into makeshift guards barring the door. momentary alarm flashes across his face before he forces a thick veneer of composure over it. the things aren't making to attack, but they certainly aren't leaving the way they came any time soon —

it's the sharp staccato of heels against the polished floor which turns his attention back to the stairs. the figure that crests the top of them and then begins to descend is indeed the same depicted in the fountain, though the carved expression of coquettishness is replaced instead with one that... he would probably term as "dour." )

My apologies for dropping in unannounced, especially if this is an inopportune time. ( his voice rings with the resonant quality of a bell, seemingly genuine if not for the somewhat serpentine quality a demon's tongue could sometimes have. "inopportune" is certainly one way to put it, given her attire, demeanor, and the handle of liquor dangling from one of her hands. he gives no voice to it. ) Though, I'm afraid I haven't been sent by anyone — just by rumor of yourself and your establishment which I'd picked up on throughout town.

( as for howl, he lets the man speak for himself. )