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| Cancan; Open | |
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| Topic Started: Friday, 6. March 2009, 05:30 (182 Views) | |
| Elizabeth Hope | Friday, 6. March 2009, 05:30 Post #1 |
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The invitation confirmed her belief that Roman had no taste. It was tacky with too much imagery and a cheesy finishing line which may be what the Camarilla was said to be about, roughly, but wasn't. She knew it, Roman knew it and all who had some experience within the sect knew it. On top of that it was to be on valentines day which was an outright mockery to everyone. A dead heart didn't love, not in the way known to kine at least. The only love she would imagine that all kindred shared was the one for blood and power and she was certain that Roman wouldn't give away any of that. Still she was to be the hostess of this ball. She didn't share the feeling of victory which Roman wrote about though and suspected that it was a reason to why she was chosen for the task. She was a neutral between all parties in the city, except one infuriating individual named Trevor, as she hadn't been in Paris for very long. Her ghouls on the contrary had made the city their home for the better part of four months already and now the careful planning concerning the restoration of the 18th century building she had purchased would commence. The theatre would breath rococo with its every detail when she was finished with it and Elizabeth looked forward to that day. It was not for several weeks though and she had to find something else to do until then. The planning of the ball would take up much of her time of course, but life was nothing if you didn't take time to have fun every once in a while. Besides, she needed to get something of a more aesthetic nature than the invitation into her mind. This is why she is at Moulin Rouge tonight. Elizabeth is a woman who enjoys beauty not only in men but also in the female body. She enjoys theatre foremost but is also a fan of dancing and enjoy watching the various styles. It is the movement of the body which she finds alluring, how the kine writhe on stage to tell tales of different emotions. There is also the fascination of a predator watching its prey in action, surveying the bodies to see which part looks the most delicious. Dressed impeccably in a modern take on the 50's as usual, Elizabeth walks into the establishment and further inside to take in the atmosphere. The place is full of kine but even then she instantly notices a man who stands smoking beside the wall and involuntary takes a step away from him. Annoyed she keeps on walking, almost instantly falling back on her natural grace again. The doors into the salon aren't open yet though and she walks up to the bar instead where the barkeep is more than happy to serve her a glass of deep red wine. Of course she has no plans to drink it but the smell is pleasant and it looks good against her pale hand. As a true aristocrat she then stands, overlooking the gathered kine and waiting for the salon to open and the cancan to begin. |
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| Tirion | Tuesday, 17. March 2009, 03:26 Post #2 |
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It had been difficult to suppress the primal urges that had caused so much trouble, but he managed. Ever since the whisper of a frenzying fledgling in a morgue, he knew the Camarilla would be hunting her and the fool-ass kindred who caused the problems. As a result, he had gone underground, well, rented a room in a motel that was as inhabitable as the sewers. His fear had been so great he thought it best not to leave his room, and employed a Nosferatu to do some legwork to see if he was wanted, as well as steal him blood packs for sustenance. It had been grim. It had been weeks in the dark, drinking cold bag from plastic bags. It was only because the Nosferatu gave him the all clear did he leave, though another night longer he felt he would go insane. He couldn’t run amuck, lose control of himself and become nothing more than a beast. He was better than that, smarter than that. As a result he couldn’t continue with his dinner and a show routine as usual. Actually tonight maybe it was inevitable. Tirion had never been to the Moulin Rouge, not only to ease his paranoia but to see the Cancan. One of the few human pastimes he could enjoy, watching meat flaunt it on stage. No-one wonder the world was so twisted and disgusting, when even the living watched with lust and hunger. In a last ditch attempt to remain hidden his hair had returned to its raven black colour, and much shorter though long enough that sleeping attractively ruffled it. His sense of style hadn’t changed much, though his new hairstyle made him look much smarter in a black suit and tie. “Vin rouge s'il vous plait” – he leaned against the bar and surveyed the room. He had already spotted Elizabeth, catching her eye as he passed her to reach the bar ignoring the growl of approval in his heart. The glass of wine he purchased was inspired by the one in her hands, though it also unpleasantly reminded him of cold blood that nourished him. The colour of her skin, the unnatural poise and stillness of her body was clear that she was no normal Kine. It scared and excited him, and he had to talk to her. “Evening.” He had stepped up beside her now, speaking in French suppressed his accent a surprising amount. “I trust you are here for the show?” |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Tuesday, 17. March 2009, 09:51 Post #3 |
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It was with reluctance that she forced herself to breath. The smell of human sweat hung heavily in the air in the far too cramped area and more than one smelled of alcohol and smoke, still she noted more than one pair of eyes resting on her and she had to maintain the charade. Kine didn't pay heed to the heaving of a chest unless resting their eyes solely on a woman's bosom, they took breathing for granted and such minor details passed them by without notice. Even so it was a minor precaution that might make the difference for someone in doubt. The man who's eyes were attached to her own would not make such a mistake though. Their gaze only met for a short while but she knew he would be coming back because that was what she would have done. It's not often you meet another kindred and when you do you want to find out if he's an enemy or a rival. As far as Elizabeth could see, in this room only herself and the man moved with such grace, perfectly aware of the surroundings but at the same time perfectly safe within themselves, ignoring the buzzing of the kine. She was right, as usual, and her mouth curled up into a pleasant smile before she answered him in kind. “Good evening.” Decades of speaking the language had left her French clean and without accent, an advantage of immortality was that you had many years during which to learn. “Yes, I'm here for the show.” She said and turned toward him. Still casually holding onto her untouched glass of wine she noted that his hand, equally as pale as her own, also held a glass of the red liquid. “I recently came to Paris and I desire to see all parts of its more artistic sides.” When she looked at him her eyes got caught at his. The colour was far too unusual to go unnoticed and Elizabeth wondered what had caused such a mutation. “I hope I will find someone to my liking on stage.” Elizabeth was a woman who enjoyed to play on words, to experiment with people to see what was the closest conclusion for them. Would he assume her to be looking for a drink, some company for the night or would he take another step and see what other possibilities there were? His line of thought probably wouldn't show but Elizabeth was content with merely putting it out there. If it would be picked up or not mattered little. “And you, is it a virgin trip for you as well or are you a regular, a connoisseur of the arts?” |
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| Tirion | Wednesday, 18. March 2009, 09:45 Post #4 |
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Tirion let his lips separate into a toothy smirk, surveying the crowds as he digested the words. She was upper class, he imagined she was a member of the aristocracy before her siring, far richer than his blood, probably a bitch...he liked her. The fact that she so loosely stated that she was interested in acquiring a performer, for whatever reason he could only assume from the glint in her eye. He crossed his arms, already starting to forget about the drink that dangled from the dead hand as he continued to stare unblinking into her eyes. He thought more and more about what she had said, sure that in her eyes there was also a certain loathing for the presence of Kine. The unclean and disruptive filth that he saw as nothing more than animals. Did she think so too? Hmmm refreshing. Another who had distanced themselves from humanity, and reaped the rewards. “Paris is...Well it is the most interesting city I’ve ever made my residence. Though I must admit I have limited experience exploring the arts. Most of my time in the city I have been experiencing pleasures more suited to my taste.” Just as she had done, he let the words hang for her to interpret. His dark red eyes never left hers, he continued to study them for hopes that she would allow him to see what she was like. He hoped she was more Kindred than Kine. It would be much more fun that way. “Tirion Malchia.” He extended his hand, palm up to receive her hand and greet her in a manner he believed would be more befitting to her. “And yes I suppose you could say I am a virgin to this place in particular, though no stranger to similar activities. And you? I trust you’re no stranger to such delights?” |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Saturday, 21. March 2009, 05:19 Post #5 |
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¨Perhaps it was a childish thing to hope that she would find not only a fellow kindred but one whom would also share her interest of the arts. Elizabeth guessed that if you lived too long with only your ghouls as company you got used to get what you wanted, whenever you wanted it, and though she was a bit disappointed she would have to be satisfied for now. She would also try to be patient to see what the night had in store, even though patience was something she did not have in abundance. The dance was however not the only reason she had come here, she wanted to revel in the movement of the kine dancers and Tirion's words led her to believe that he shared this interest with her at least. Perhaps they could have some interesting conversation after all. Elizabeth lifted her free hand to let it rest in his inviting palm, allowing him to go forth with what to the modern kine would seem like an old fashioned greeting. Her fingertips touched his palm lightly and she felt the touch of cold flesh against her skin. It was certainly a refreshing thing in comparison to the clammy hands of random humans or her husbands touch, who more often than not merely served to annoy her. “Elizabeth Hope.” She answered him in kind. “And no I'm no stranger. I've lived with theatre around me for as long as I can remember,” which could be an awful lot of time if you were a kindred, “and through that I've seen my share of dancing men and women. I haven't been to any performance lately though and am eager to see what the French can offer me.” Again there was the slight hint of something more to her words and her lips sported a slight smile. “Perhaps you would like to share the night's events with me? I arrived without a cavalier and if I'm not mistaken the seats in this salon aren't numbered. And maybe then, as my company, it would not seem too odd if you would tell me more of those pleasures of yours.” |
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| Tirion | Thursday, 2. April 2009, 08:31 Post #6 |
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Once again he released a sigh of humour, an attractive smile and raised her hand gently, grazing his lifeless lips upon her snow –like skin. His actions created the facade that he was something much older and from better backgrounds than rape and incest. He let her hand slip from his. He was more partial to the cold, smooth and flawless figure of kindred, and she was indeed a prime example. She was more than meat like the masses that churned around him, wondering whether she had such bearing in life. Despite not usually relying on early impressions, he couldn’t help but like the woman. She deserved immortality. “I suppose the French do it better than most...but there are always more beautiful things to be watched...studied.” His eyes scanned the surroundings and he couldn’t help but mask his distaste for the noise and stench. “It would be a pleasure to escort you for this evening’s proceedings. Long has it been since I’ve made company with someone who intrigues me so.” He made eye contact with her again, a hint of genuine happiness that he had been so fortuitous. His encounters with the other world had been slim to none, and even then they had always been in rather uncivil circumstances. It was indeed interesting, refreshing. Different and completely new. “May I ask what brought you to Paris in the first place short of seeing what’s on offer?” he referenced her earlier comment of choosing someone from the dance. He knew it could mean her prey for the evening or for a Toreador a protégé. He suspected that is where she had been selected from...a lifetime of theatre after all. “The political balance perhaps?” it was blunt to say the least, but he was curious as to where her allegiances lied, especially since he was trying to stay hidden. He tried to mask his deep interest, but it might have emerged as uncomfort, though this may have been for his eyes travelling to the Kine smoking against the wall. |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Thursday, 2. April 2009, 14:27 Post #7 |
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His words implied that he held little interest in the actual performance. Naming the French “better than most” but not more probably meant that he was merely here to try and spice his night with something else than aimless wandering or television as was so common these days. Elizabeth could not deny that she wasn't wholeheartedly engulfed in the atmosphere of the Moulin rouge either, not by any standards as much as she wanted to be. As a toreador her perceptiveness for the arts left here easily enraptured by them and though it left her vulnerable it was something akin to a drug that she both hated and desperately craved. That he so bluntly, though perhaps not intentionally, pointed it out to her that her hope to find something special here tonight was naïve was hurtful in a way she hadn't expected. But Elizabeth wasn't the kind to cry when bruised and so decided to toss the meaningless pursuit of happiness aside and focus on the individual instead. She studied him, his movements and his choice of words and concluded that he was trying to flatter her, perhaps even seduce her. It might be that he was trying to be polite but there was a hint of true emotion there and it gave him away. Normally Elizabeth wasn't moved by flattering words, she saw through such things, but that didn't mean she disliked being adored. And what was more, she truly enjoyed to play. An easy smile came to her painted lips and she stepped closer to him, crossing the border of his personal space. She didn't want to give all of herself away to him, she knew nothing of his allegiance and saw what he was fishing for. Her hand travelled over his arm and she let out a faint sigh. “You may ask Tirion,” she said speaking only a little louder than a whisper, “but in such a public place, entertainment waiting around the bend, I do not want to discuss politics.” She let her hand rest on his arm, loosely hooked there to point out that he was her escort and she allowed him to lead her wherever he wanted to. In further accentuation of this point the doors into the salon were opened and people started to trickle in to find there seats. Elizabeth glanced over at the open doors and then back at Tirion. “Am I intriguing enough for you to take me there or are your interests of another kind? I feel obliged to tell you that I do have all night but the herd does not.” |
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| Tirion | Wednesday, 15. April 2009, 09:06 Post #8 |
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He held his arm aloft allowing hers to rest delicately on his, resisting a shiver in response to her icy touch as it wrapped lightly around the material of his jacked. It was thick, but even so he could feel the energy around her body drain the sweat ridden hot air away. It was almost intoxicating, so different from the touch of living bodies. He found himself savouring the new delight, phasing out of the room for a moment and just contemplating what he was doing here. Where could it possible lead? He hid a smirk away from her. What did she taste like? The smooth words from her mouth snapped him back into reality. The charade continued, he had a suspicion for both of them as the discussion of politics was postponed. There was always the possibility that she was indeed the “Government” even though she was acting more the predatory aristocrat for this evening. Though in all honesty the, the Camarilla were worse than everyone else. With these thoughts processing he proceeded to lead her towards where the masses moved. Despite his distaste for human vessels he missed the grind of meat upon him experienced in nightclubs of Paris. Did she enjoy such simple pleasures? “Oh, I’m sure I could find the time for you Elizabeth.” The words themselves were something of an insult but he tease in his voice would probably further her mixed emotions. Her closeness had caught him off guard, and now he had to retaliate. “But I’m sure we wouldn’t deprive each other of a dinner and a show. Would we?” he refused to look her in the eye as he voiced his curiosity of genuinely eating her. Even if she knew what he meant, there would still be a hunt. |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Thursday, 16. April 2009, 07:52 Post #9 |
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“That depends. How civilized are we?” She said with a smirk on her lips and a raised eyebrow. She hadn't made up her mind yet on if he was trying to insult her or if he wasn't. Either way she hated to be the one standing dumb struck and her answer came quickly. “I don't know about you but I had my last dinner a long time ago. A show however, is never wrong.” She followed Tirion into the salon where they found a pair of seats in the back row where they would have a sort of privacy. They sat down and the show started. A dozen of raunchy girls took the stage, sometimes accompanied by men and other times dancing on their own. As Elizabeth had suspected the performance didn't engulf her the way other things did, but it was pleasing to the eye none the less and she got to see the can can that the Moulin rouge was so famous for. But that wasn't the only reason for why she was there. Her primary reason was to eye the dancers from top to toe in search for something, be it talent or simply a nicely shaped body to sink her teeth into. About half way into the performance she noticed a girl, a read-head with a large bosom and milky white skin. Some of the red curls had escaped the restrains of her hair-do and the green eyes were sparkling, it was evident that she enjoyed what she was doing. “What do you think of her? The red-head two girls from the left.” Elizabeth said in a very low voice as she didn't want to disturb the act. “When you look at her bare shoulders, her heaving chest and her vivid form, what does it make you want to do?” She was leaning close to Tirion, her lips almost brushing his ear while still keeping her eyes on the girl. Personally I want to bite into that pretty neck of hers and leave the wound open. I'd like to see her cover it up with that little ribbon she has tied around her throat. she thought as she imagined what to do with the kine, but she made sure not to voice those thoughts just yet. |
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| Tirion | Saturday, 18. April 2009, 03:06 Post #10 |
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He was glad that all eyes were on the stage when the music started and the girls emerged. It was horrifying how much his primal urge washed over him and he wanted nothing more than to rush to the stage and attack each and every one of them and wash himself in a bloodied orgy. His knuckles whitened on the arm rest as his lust for their flesh subsided, though his hairs stood on end when she came close to him and whispered softly. His eyes flickered to the woman in question and he could see the attraction. Simply beautiful, but he wanted to search for something unique tonight. His mind fondly flickered back to the albino in the alley, though she had caused him so much trouble. He twisted his neck, bringing his mouth to her ear and letting out a soft moan of contemplation. “Yes...lovely indeed.” He had slipped back into English without really realising. “I can think of a few things to do with that body...but of course I can do that with anyone.” Twisted intention seethed in his words, but ultimately they were both animals further up the food chain, and just if he wanted to play with his food he couldn’t give a fuck if she looked down on it. Not the way he felt now. “Hopefully I can find something special...something new.” His eyes were no longer on the stage as he leaned even closer so what little facial hair he had would brush against her flesh, and with a toothy grin he added. “Something like you.” He returned to his normal position allowing her to digest that rather sinister remark, wondering how she would take it and knowing that she could hardly run out of the proceedings. He was harmless really, to her at least, as he intently started studying the women again, anticipation growing in his stomach. He made this action obvious to play with her further though try and put her at ease. Ultimately it was pleasurable company, and he was reconsidering her earlier recommendation. He couldn’t resist a pretty face, but he spared Elizabeth a glance. He still didn’t know where the evening would lead. |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Saturday, 18. April 2009, 04:48 Post #11 |
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All of a sudden he switched to English and Elizabeth started to think more about him than of the show. His demeanour also showed bits and pieces of who he might be and she would guess that he was an Englishman, either a spoiled brat who got whatever he pointed at or an orphan who had to fight hard for every meal during his childhood. That would explain why he believed that he could get anyone, even her. She could see him as a prostitute as well, it was an easy way out for many, but it could just as well be her imagination running away with her. It would be a reason to why he had an appetite for something new, as a whore you get to try many things whether you like it or not, but that could be the sum of too many nights of abundance and gluttony as well. But her guess was that he hadn't tried vitae before. If he had, he was trying to fool her to get his fix. Elizabeth knew how that could be. Her mind flickered to her sire's other child for a moment and there was a part of her who said “yes”, but the rest of her knew better and she wasn't entranced enough with this young looking, red-eyed kindred to fall into that trap without hesitation. “You're bold. Brit by any chance?” She said in English and let out a short, melodic laugh and a pleased smirk settled on her lips. She wouldn't deny that she loved being the centre of attention and she wouldn't hide it either. “I also like new things but I never leave it for hope and faith to decide.” A few people in the row in front of them turned their heads as she laughed and spoke but they were too cowardly to do anything above that. They probably only even looked at her in the first place because she was speaking English and they were French, thus supposed to always be angry with foreigners. But the people as well as the show started to bore her and she decided that Tirion had the potential to be a bit more interesting. If not for anything serious then perhaps she could at least play with him for a bit. “Are you as bored as I am? I'll propose that we take our leave, perhaps to some place a bit more private. Will you lead the way?” |
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| Tirion | Monday, 20. April 2009, 03:31 Post #12 |
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It was marvellous how someone could have see through the sweet lies and still fall victim to them. She loved the things he said, that she was ‘special’ amongst the entire room. He knew that he couldn’t kid a kidder, but it still had the desired effect. He had only realised that he had slipped into English when she spoke back in kind. Bold. He preferred the term to reckless. British though? He hated his hellhole homeland so he didn’t mind the mistake, but all the same it was an unusual one to make. He wouldn’t describe his mood as bored, he was eager to cause her a great deal of discomfort but since she was actually being attracted by his disturbing act then maybe he could turn things around. Lure her into his parlour; find something to pleasure them both immensely, before taking everything he wanted for himself. But of course she could be doing the same and if so, well...it would be immensely fun. He always fancied himself a rival. “Maybe a little bored.” He muttered, not really concerned with how quiet he was being. “But I’m sure we can find more entertainment.” He motioned to the people next to him that they were leaving, causing more distasteful looks. He led her through the crowded room out of the darkened spectators shroud and out of the saloon where he once again accepted her arm around his. “So...darling. Was there anywhere you had in mind? Or will I have to imagine something up?” |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Tuesday, 21. April 2009, 06:19 Post #13 |
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She had hoped that he would have shown some sort of interest, some spark of imagination and actual thought, but as many times before she was disappointed. In an awkward way she missed the days of her youth when men made the decisions and the women only had to follow, laugh and be pretty. Of course she would hate to be such a powerless individual, that was not what she missed, instead it was the confidence in men and their assumed superiority that she longed to see. It was much more fun to play on such terms. However, she wouldn't fold her cards simply because she hadn't been dealt a good hand but would see things through. If she ever was to become a whip, primogen or even prince, every kindred had to be examined and filed in to her mental archive. And on that note she would continue the charade. “I like the places we create with our minds, but right now I would prefer something more solid.” She said with a perfect smile as she led him out of the Moulin Rouge to walk with him down the street. “It is not often our kind meet, Tirion, and as we all tend to have strong opinions we rarely part on good terms. So I am asking you, what do you hope to gain from this evening? Are you looking for company, an ally perhaps or simply someone to talk to, or are your blood red eyes set on forbidden fruit?” Elizabeth was colder now in appearance as well as demeanour, even if the temptress in her was still present in her movement and voice. With only a few stray kine around, all with their own business set in their heads, she saved her blood for other things than simply appearing more healthy and humane. Her features were clean, her skin white as snow and in stark contrast to her black dress and her brown eyes were intense. |
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| Tirion | Wednesday, 20. May 2009, 02:10 Post #14 |
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He almost regretted her opening her mouth, a certain professionalism spewing forth that he wasn’t fond of. This was likely because of his lack of any power whatsoever in Paris, practically living off an inheritance which made him nothing more than a spoilt rich kid. So what he thought could still be stuck in that house. He had contained a gasp of lust as she dropped the facade of mortality, looking as morbid and beautiful as ever. He might have started to lose interest, but his twisted desire to gobble her up was slowly becoming an obsession. Despite the tension building in him, he was gifted that he could mask it. His body casual and relaxed his face, no longer smiling, but covered his intent. He didn’t care where they were walking to, instead thinking for a good long time as to what he wanted. “Even I am not sure what I want. My beliefs have not been swayed by outside influences. Nothing has seduced me into being a puppet for others.” The distaste in his words and voice was aimed at the Camarilla, but it was true that he was independent of all sects. “My business is different from yours I’m sure and therefore no reason to bring about... Perhaps what I am after you would define as forbidden. That’s what makes us different.” He stopped walking, dimly lit by a distant street light as he set his eyes on her. “Would you judge me if I tried?” |
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| Elizabeth Hope | Thursday, 21. May 2009, 01:46 Post #15 |
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Her laughter fell out of her mouth like a string of crystalline pearls; cold, dead, beautiful and with a hint of malice. “You clearly do not know me Tirion and I am unsure if you ever will, but I know that you would enjoy my company and I yours if you kept playing on your roguish harp.” She stopped to stand in front of him and fell silent for a while. When she opened her mouth again all the mirth was gone from her features. “I judge everyone, no matter if they are the Prince, the pope or a lowly kine, but I do not always pass upon my judgement. It's better to know than to act but you put me in a twisted situation. You see,” she said and let her eyes wander unashamed over his body, lingering on his neck, “I do like to allow myself what is forbidden but I hold my reputation in higher regards. My possible involvement with you, an outlaw if I am correct?” She said, raising her eyebrow for a moment, “will very likely shake the foundation that I am building on.” Another pause and she looked deep into his eyes, deciding not to tell him more of what could happen, to herself or him. “That doesn't mean that I am unwilling, but the strangers I've played with before have all died sooner or later. You however, are not as inclined to such a fate, by will or physiology. So tell me, why should I give in to one such as you?” |
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7:53 PM Nov 23