tampered | Not the brightest of moves [Closed]

Current Mood: calm
Current Location: The Den

Not the brightest of moves [Closed]

When; 10-6-08
Rating; R
Characters; Waverly Raine and Aleera
Summary; Waverly agreed to meet Aleera for art. In a well lit well crowded place.
Aleera agrees to meet Waverly .... for lunch.
Log;

This was in all eventuality a bad idea. No, not in eventuality or probability. It was definitely a bad idea. She was willingly meeting with one of the more dangerous vampires within the City walls. In fact, she was fairly certain that one of these three sisters had been the one to attack her while she was cursed. Not that she had any proof at all. Or the inclination to try to do something about something that had passed.

She hadn't even really changed from what she had been lounging around the house in. An over sized sweater which exposed her neck and a pair of flare jeans. She still couldn't even start to express how nice it was to wear simple clothing and to simply lounge around. Her hair had been pulled up half way and she had accidentally left a paintbrush in her ear. The accessory she was tapping against the hair covering the back of her neck.

She'd brought a bit of money. Enough for some drinks and maybe some gambling, but she wasn't planning to let her guard down with the sister around. Something bothered her about the vamp. Ok, many things did. Still, the use of her verbs and her choices. Those were .... questionable. 'We' 'our'. And all that talk of food. She got the feeling she may be the desired menu option. Something she probably should have taken better precaution with in her dress.

All the same she knew enough about most vampires, from researching for Doris and from existing with different breeds, that she would be a hard target to take down.

Still tapping the brush against the back of her neck she meandered over to the bar and ordered a 'spice cake' and an 'Irish cream'. It was fitting with the outside weather and the season. After taking the 'spice cake' down in one, she grabbed the highball glass with the 'Irish cream' and surveyed the area for someone with the classic look of a vampire. Aleera seemed the sort to go for a 'classic' look rather then a more subtle one.

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Waverly was not mistaken... Even the legendary Van Helsing came to realise just how dangerously capable and, perhaps more to the point, unpredictable, the bridal Aleera could be. Each of Dracula's three chosen had their own peculiarly unique traits and the one of red hair's most identifiable element was that of passion.

Passion and a vastly thirsting hunger... Something shared with maker and undead siblings, alike. Not that she and Marishka had to act as a unifying force, of course and such was the case here. Aleera took, toyed with and feasted upon whomsoever took her fancy and she could be a fickle creature, indeed.

Waverly... No, this woman's comments had highly intrigued the vampiress. Someone with understanding of shadows. An artist. Perhaps it was irony that Rose Tyler, Aleera's usual recent target for disturbing, united them both. Aleera, however, was disinterested in the whys and wherefores of it. What brought her to this location, was a promise of exploring more of this shared vision. The thought of knowing who had written those appealing words.

And the need for prey.

Her look was that of the expensively exquisite, as ever the case. A lady in silken pinks and whites, decorated, here and there, with little examples of gold finery. A style which had so often served her well - why change it? No, there was no mistaking this for anything but a radiantly vampish predator in crimson curls.

One who, upon noticing the girl so apparently alert for a stranger's visitation, smiled fellow redhead's way. An apparent start towards her, before passer by moved across Aleera's path, only for her to somehow completely disappear.

And appear, immediately beside her evening's host.

"So glad, to receive your invitation," the nocturnal woman smiled. Eyes glowing with an ethereal purple, if only for a moment.

She kept herself from starting at the sudden intrusion into her personal space. Choosing instead to simply turn around and offer a smile. "I must admit, the conversation made me curious."

Aleera looked exactly as Waverly had expected. Exquisite finery, elegant clothing, a complete picture of a storybook vampire. Which meant to be prepared for storybook vampire powers.

Suddenly she was wondering if she'd gotten herself in a bit too far this time. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yesss..."

It was probably the wrong thing to have asked. Aleera seemed very much in the stereotypical mould of her kind, but no less dangerous for it. Smoke and mirrors, yes, but often carried out with the utmost viciousness. The question had provoked an almost predictable step forward and casting down of gaze to linger over the mortal girl's exposed neck.

Yes, Aleera would very much like to drink and her corresponding reaction made it clear in what sense that was meant.

That close, Aleera could afford to take in a gentle whiff of the other's scent. There were quite the number here, but such was the vampiress' sensitivity, that she would now be sure to remember this particular inhalation, lest she need to keep a track of her, in the future. Indeed, for a few moments, it might have seemed that being somewhere public might make absolutely no difference to her predatory intentions, whatsoever.

With that, however, came the sudden producing of a scroll in ribbon. A painting, of sorts, although quite whether the red was originally of body fluids or wax, it was not particularly obvious. A landscape of ancient, foreboding castle, alight with thundering storm rolling in the sky.

And the most curious impression of faces showing through the clouds.

"For you..."

Waverly smelled of acrylic and animal. The scent that lay underneath that was a very pure scent. Almost like spring and fall mixed together.

She took the scroll politely before turning to the tender and ordering a drink for Aleera. Blood of course. She was doing a good job of holding in her excitement. New forms of art was a passion for the girl. Art in general was a passion honestly.

Once the blood was given to Aleera she opened the scroll. No matter the medium the art was breathtaking, and Waverly showed it by the slight intake of breath upon opening it. It was amazing. She, she couldn't even think of the words for it. "It's ...." Her eyes scanned the picture again, unable to keep her eyes from it. "It's amazing."

The combination of her scent and that from the blood, was provoking much intrigue in Aleera. Having it handed to her in an actual glass, as also a novelty. At least, in this world. In her brief stay, she had mostly hunted nearby live prey. The most memorable time of not doing so, had been with Rose Tyler, which had rather amusing results.

And then there was fact that it was literally a gesture of Waverly offering her blood... The symbnolism was not lost, inadvertant or not.

"You like...?"

Thus was the vampiress' reaction, accompanied with a luxurious smile. A slight wetting of lips being made with tongue, of the taste still lingering upon them. An action more closely associated with Aleera's question, than one might, at first, have realised. Both were probing. Both allowed her to capture something of a flavour of the moment.

And both were pleasing her.

"Consider this... A gift. An act of trust, yes...?"

She smiled shyly at the other woman. "It's stunning." She took another drink of her own before speaking again. "What is your medium?"

"Whatever I find..." Said the vampiress, gaze intently locked, yet with body language which read as relaxed and casual: A coiled viper, secure in the knowledge that nearby rabbit had nowhere to hide. "Crimson, most especially. So many shades, yes...?"

It was spoken with a fresh inhalation of the blood in glass and Aleera's smile had yet to diminish by even the slightest.

"Waverly... My dear friend, Rose, so often writes of you... You know her well, hmm?"

"I like to think I do." Aleera's words didn't go unnoticed, just not replied to. She didn't want to delve too deep into the subject at the moment.

"Yes... You do..."

Such a non-commital response only succeeded in an expansion of interest, rather than any decrease. The slight shift in mentality being indicated by a further draining of the contents still within glass. Tongue delicately tracing its way over teeth for the remnants of that same flavour, even if the act remained unseen behind lips.

Because Aleera did want to delve into all manner of things. Her choice of prey rarely had any say in the matter.

"Do you dance, lady...?"

The question took her back for a few moments. What was Aleera getting at with it? She didn't seem the type to ask something with no meaning inside it. "I do." The response came a bit slowly. After all, the last time she had danced had been with Mat.

She missed dancing actually. She missed many things. It had started to become quite a normal thing to miss things anymore. Mallory would have scolded her for being so weak. Of course, Mallory always scolded her. For a child the girl was awfully bossy.

"There is a dance calling your name... A dance of snakes. A dance of moonlight. You have danced these steps before, I think."

The reaching out to bring forth Waverly's hand between her own, seemed a spontaneous act from Aleera, but was no less graceful for it. Fingertip alighting to trail from wrist to knuckle, before turning palm up, performing a similar act with the line typically associated with one's span and course of life.

And made so teasingly well.

"Yes... Yes, you have..."

She watched with one brow quirked, but watched only. There was no move to remove her hand from the other's. The words themselves were interesting. Very interesting indeed. Depending on the take on the words they could mean many many things. Several of which she could easily agree upon. "In some ways yes, in others, no."

She took back her hand and smiled. "And what of you Aleera, do you dance?"

"Of course," the vampiress replied, smile inviting, but not in some ridiculously superficial style. Aleera might be of her kind form the classical tradition, but that did not mean she possessed no style. On the contrary, her own was seductive and lightly restrained. "Physical expression can be most important, do not think...? A most desirable trait in one's development, yes?"

Desire, being a realm in which Aleera was truly at home with. Especially in such splendid surroundings as these. There was an air of something... Sumptuous about it. Leisurely. Indeed, expressive, which fit all too well into the verbal tamplate of which Aleera had just spoken.

"But you lack this now," the more predatory of two redheads decreed, glancing down at that same open palm. Her fingertip almost stroking its curved path back down to wrist, before wandering calmly back up that line of life. "A certain... Potency. Something to make you feel truly alive, once more, maiden. Blood is the life and your own finds itself in need of a quickening."

Eyes softly blinked, shifting over to one of the more secluded booths, to one side of room, before looking rejoining Waverly's gaze.

"Join me?"

Aleera had such an interesting way of putting things. It was true that Waverly's painting had been lacking recently. Mostly due to her thoughts of Ingenting. Thoughts of what she had done and what she would do.

Lucifer seemed to come to her mind more quickly then before. Wondering how he would take to certain curses, to the lack of control. He always seemed to need to take such a strong hold of things that seeing him in a place where he had none would drive him insane ... or would it?

When Aleera's words finally caught her she moved toward the woman, shifting so as to have a clear sight between the booth and others. She wasn't stupid enough to allow the other to be completely alone with her. "Some need more work on their verbal expression." Her mind was still drifting between here and Ingenting.

A shame... This one might yet provide some sort of challenge, but Aleera did so enjoy it when she had easy prey. She relished the feel of having, possessing and claiming. When facing the Princess, she preferred closing in on the brunette female, taking away securities and leaving her utterly vulnerable.

Because she liked to play. Because she liked to toy.

"And what would you have them say?" She asked, quizically. Still polite, still glinting in lingering gaze. Still hungry of sight. Still thirsting for the game. "Advise me on your poetry... Please."

"Oh not poetry." She moved just slightly, causing the area to be less secluded and more public again. "Simple verbal expression."

She took another sip of her drink. "As for them, my mind was drifting to someone from the world I am from."

"Speak of this," requested Aleera, slightly tilting head. "Mine is one of castles, peasants and the Master's destiny. Transylvania and the realm to which he was banished, also... We wandered freely, there. Not so much, here, but... There is more entertainment to be found in this place."

A look around herself reminded Aleera of something else, too. Of so many points in history and different places, all somehow brought together by powers beyond the understanding of most beings gathered here.

"And yet, there is much my family does not understand. Inventions, contraptions and science... So strange. So unusual!"

A pause.

"What gave you such inspiration for crimson...?"

She brushed some hair from her face. "I've lived in two separate worlds. Both the same and different." She found that trying to explain her own world was hard now. She was born to no real home now and simply slipped between the cracks. "Painting is simply something that I've always done."

Perhaps that was the answer. Her only true home was with paints.

"No... Not activity," clarified the vampiress; "your style."

For that had been largely what attracted the more predatory of the redheads to the other. Or at least, was what primarily gave her cause to take such a huge notice. Aleera's social interchange with the young woman, about 'crimson and shadow', had elicited such an apaprent meeting of minds, that she was compelled beyond the usual reasons of hunger or sexuality, to physically meet up.

"To understand... This," she spoke, reaching hand softly to Waverly's hair; Aleera curling fingers around tresses of that red hair and, almost sensually, sliding the same down cheek. Eyes rejoining hers, only after. "To have such passion for this shade... It must arise from somewhere."

She thought about it. Feeling the sensuality in the woman's movements. "I've always been like this."

There was no way that she could actually explain her entire life. She had always created in shades of darkness instead of shades of light. This was simply how, who she was.

"I believe so..."

More a statement of fact, than anything else. Waverly stlil represented quite the puzzle to be solved. Aleera, however, was coming to find more and more incentives for doing so. Ultimately, there was frustration, but only of the intrigued variety.

She said nothing more, however, only continuing to stroke another length of hair between fingers, before trailing them, by the tips, down that invitingly exposed neck. This one was not running... A fact which seemed to cause both delight and desire.

"I could help you be more so..."

The promise was spoken in a murmur, Aleera uncaring for their relatively public surroundings, as she leaned in, turning head to whisper into the presented soft shell of girl's ear. That Aleera could bite, went without saying and yet she chose not to. No, she relished the teasing of the moment. Something now exemplified with the very real and enriched purr, now intermixed with her next whisper of voice.

"Would you enjoy this, lady...?"

She turned to be almost nose to nose with the woman. No fear in her manner or stance. She was probably treading on dangerous ground right now, but it was ground that could be trodden. She knew this playing field of vampires and werewolves. Besides, she was already in too deep and only had herself to break herself free.

"I like my humanity right where it is Aleera." She wasn't being insulting, simply honest.

A lesser being might have backed down and moved into what might be described as social negotiation. Not Aleera. On the contrary, she merely smiled just that little bit wider and purred out a growlingly intrigued, "Hmmm..."

Neither an agreement nor disagreement. Aleera rarely did those. She was all about playfulness, games and seduction. Anything less would simply be too out of character to expect from her. Ambiguity, especially when so much as a hint of sexuality was being toyed with, suited her, just fine.

That was why the vampiress took in a sudden inhalation of the other woman's scent. She had no qualms about doing so, for her behavious could be deliciously primal.

"You do..."

Again, neither agreement nor disagreement. Just a statement of fact. A playful little snap of teeth being made, befor esoftening into a giggle of wickedness.

She wanted to roll her eyes. Wonderful. Another vampire wanting to order O+. "I hate to sound harsh, but if you're planning to have me as a snack we're not going to get on well."

It was best to have these things out quickly.

"Worry not," the vampiress allayed. "I smell the Frenchman upon you... Distant, but there."

It was all part of Aleera's game, but she did find the defensiveness amusing. She enjoyed prodding, poking and provoking, until a person surrendered either to some inner need for salvation or... Her. Mostly, she preferred the latter. Indeed, discovering just how a person reacted to her, often informed Aleera a lot about their character.

And so, as with framing those very pictures, she now had a more detailed understanding of the one who now provided a canvas for her verbal brush.

"I do not think you have met for some time."

Right, heightened smell, and Lestat probably managed to longer long after. There was a small smirk at wondering if she smelled of Lestat while she was with Mat. That had to have happened more then once. Interesting.

"No. You don't get on with Lestat?" Curious, Lestat got on with everyone .... in one manner or another.

"A family friend," answered Aleera. "One who claimed he knew of me, upon my last visitation to these lands... I do not remember this, but Marishka tells me it was so."

A complete blank, Aleera drew on that. The last she knew, it had been a dark, stormy night; lightning lashing through the sky and the Princess crawling back against stone, her skin covered in rain and so ravishingly vulnerable for Aleera's bite. She had wished to savour it, to enjoy - only to arrive in a completely different realm.

Ah, thoughts of what might have been...

"You had disagreements, perhaps?"

"Everyone has disagreements." She didn't voice the truth of the matter. The truth she had been trying to hide from.

She had been left again. Left by so many in such a short time. This was why you never stayed close. Never hoped for anything more the you were given. Because no one stayed. You were always alone in the end. She had no idea that her guard was down. Her mind was free to be invaded for the briefest of moments when she realized she was almost mentally screaming her thoughts. After that, Star Wars.

Aleera was not telepathic, but she was often unpredictable. Even in body language, the girl's vulnerability was evident. The vampiress had mental interests, yes, but her over-riding cues were those in the material world. She was a sadist, a killer and a being who enjoyed manipulation, like little else.

Precisely why she closed the distance and did exactly the same as she had once surprised Rose with; tongue extended and, in a singularly compulsive motion, swiped up the young mortal's face - Aleera's way of saying 'hello', on an instinctively personal level. An outrageously animalistic gesture, but one she had demonstrated countless times, to those she apparently favoured.

Favoured and wanted.

Crude? Yes.

In character, for Aleera? Also, very much, yes.

"You are most stimulating," she spoke, romanian accent to the fore, as ever. The testament melting into a giggle of clear wickedness, as the vampiress seemed to swish, with considerable ease, into the surrounding crowd. "Do keep the painting, lady...!"

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Not the brightest of moves [Closed]

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