[ORP] Toreador New Years Bash - Open!

[Yayoi]

Perhaps it was because he was so young. While he had experienced a small portion of the world, Capulet still had much he did not know. And perhaps if he picked up a book rather than a magazine from time to time he would know just a little bit more to help entertain topics of interest for Gideon. As it were all he could offer were perhaps some fashion tips and what the latest drink rage at the bars were. Or perhaps the latest bit of gossip that happened to flutter to his ear. If that made him naive well then so be it. He still had centuries to learn things if he wanted to.

If Gideon wanted to get to know him better all he had to do was ask. Which he was sure the True Brujah was just itching to do. Capulet could only hope to keep the handsome male’s attention for longer than five months bites at a time with whatever he has to say.

He wanted to get to know him more too. But that would take time.

But he chuckled at Gideon’s proclamation about getting him whatever he wanted. A soft, chiming bit of laughter as he shook his head. Light catching in the silver accessories within and holding his hair up. “The only spoiling I need is with your time and attention.” He replied. Capulet didn’t want Gideon to have to go out of his way to get him things when really all he needed was the others attention in him. But if he wished to give him gifts he also wouldn’t deny him the pleasure of doing so. Capulet did like gifts afterall.

As they moved outside and into the garden he smiled. Taking an unnecessary inhale of breath before letting it out. “Boy it sure was a bit stuffy in there wasn’t it?” He smiled. Glad to be out in the cool night air among the gardens and dimly lit paths that one could sneak away to. He gave a half shrug of his shoulders at Gideon’s next question. “Much of the same I suppose. Perusing the bars, fashion magazines. The shops and the like. How about you handsome? Anything particular you are studying or working on?”

Uta

 

[Uta]

A night of dancing might well have helped released some of his pentup energy and stress. Just being at this party was stressful, what with so many ranking individuals hanging around, and so many different clans rubbing elbows with one another. But it wasn't just wanting to make a good Giovanni impression that left Iggy feelign a bit uptight-- there was the fact that he still sported that infernal collar, and he was sure everyone kenw it; there was the fact they hadn't gotten any closer in their hopes of finding a way to remove it; and there was the stress of wanting to ensure he didn't ******** up this new change in his relationship with Aureliano.

For surely, just because he wasn't walking on eggshells around him as he had before, he still was sorting out boundaries. What did Aureliano like? What did he detest? What irritated him? What pleased him? They might not have been in love with one another, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to make their time together pleasant.

Twisting on the dance floor, relaxing into the beat of the bass, dancing was something that came naturally to the Giovanni. It was nice to forget, even for a moment, about everything that had happened recently. The bickering with Aureliano, the Infernal contract, the stress of being an everyday disappointment... Purple eyes peeked up from his long, ebony hair to catch Aureliano's gaze, to see if he was watching -- and lo, he was. Good. Because this was indeed for him, whether he said so or not. Strangely enough, he wanted the older vampires eyes on him and him alone... Maybe it was just proof that there was something small he could do. It might not be magic or sorcery, it might not be something horribly impressive, but it was at least something.... just for Aurey.

Ignatius was just getting into it, his eyes falling closed, when fate had other plans. Reality came crashing right back as Aurey reached for him, slipping an arm around his shoulder and turning him around. At first he thought maybe the other vampire had come to join him, but soon enough, he was pointing at someone across the room. Someone.... Someone that did indeed look like he was exactly the sort of vampire they were hoping to find!

While horns didn't necessarily mean Baali, there was something about Xapham that madee him believe Aureliano was right. "Well, well -- maybe our luck is starting to change?" He mused, mostly to himself, as he followed Aureliano's lead. It was all he could really hope. Cappadocian's and the trouble outside the room were forgotten about as he focused on this stranger. What better time to bump into a Baali than at Elysium?

----

Xapham, for his part, moved around the outskirts of the dance floor. He had no interest in dancing, unless it was to proposition another vampire, or to play with some mortal. Everything, everyone here was seemingly beneath the Baali, nothing more than inevitable prey ... but he knew he had to be cautious. These weren't hunting grounds or fighting pits and there were rules.

Movement caught his eye -- mostly because it was a duo of vampires stepping out of the dance floor, and making a beeline towards him. Eyes the color of hellfire turned towards Aurliano and Ignatius. Were they worth a second look? No. Not at all. In fact, Xapham had every intention of disregarding them completely and continuing his hunt for someone more compelling when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He sniffed the air, filtering past the mix of smoke, alcohol, sweat, vitae, perfume, and cologne. There was something, or someone as the case might be, that had the stench of Hell stained upon them -- and it wasn't another Baali or Demon. It was faint, but clearly there... and if he followed it to the source, it was coming from the scowling blue mohawk and the purple eyed head of hair.

Well, well, well....

Perhaps his night wouldn't be boring after all.

Crossing his arms, Xapham stared balefully at Aureliano, a fanged, sadistic smile slowly forming on his lips the closer to him they came. It wasn't everyday prey waltzed up to him so eagerly. What game of cat and mouse might he get to play this night? Of course, he said something -- they were well beneath him, and if they had something they wanted to say, they could be the ones to say as much.

But his unblinking, smolering stare never wavered.

Yayoi

 

[Uta]

The light laughter that came from the dark haired beauty was infectious and ever so charming. He truly was delighted that the gorgeous Capulet had arrived -- and not just for the party, but to spend some time with him. In a mansion full of artistry and beautiful vampires, it was Capulet alone that held his gaze and fascination. He truly would not have bothered coming if it wasn't for him.

"If that's the case, then know I'm yours, tonight and beyond, as long as it might please you." Perhaps that was bold of him to confess, but it was no less true but Gideon wasn't entirely a shy creature. When he saw something that turned his head, he made a move. He wasn't a shy beast, though he could be known to be aloof. He was detached primarily because there was little that interested him or moved him... So when he found something, or in this case someone, that was utterly betwitching, he wouldn't risk losing it to silence.

At Gideon's age, he felt like he'd seen it all. One vampire was veery much like the rest, and they all blended into one another. Unlife had become colorless, dull, and the True Brujah had gotten lost in his libraries and tomes. But that all changed the night he had stepped out and ran across Gideon. He'd followed him into a bar, ordered him a drink, and the vampire had brought nothing but color to his black and white world. He lived in his thoughts rent free, night after night... and now that he had him here at this party, he wanted to take advantage of their time together.

Keeping Capulet's arm in his own, he let his fingers trace delicately over the top of that pale hand. The night air felt good around him, and the verdant garden was quite inviting. "Agreed-- far too crowded for my tastes, though I must say, this garden suits you very well. Tu es magnifique." Gideon couldn't help but compliment him, letting his eyes drink in his figure and shape under different lighting. His lips curled into a smile. Surely, no flower or marble statue could compare to the flawless, moonlit beauty besides him.

Let the garden be jealous. It well should be.

"Ah, time well spent then, pursuing ones hobbies. Is fashion your true calling then or are you simply a collector of finery with modern taste?" Gideon wasn't at all surprised by the answer, but he didn't judge, either. While fashion magazines weren't something he himself had perused lately, he did know how styles changed practically weekly. It was knowledge the old scholar hadn't simply made time to pursue . "Perhaps you can give me a few pointers on what I might best wear next time, as I'm sure I'm looking well out of style." His words were surprisingly droll for the scholar, and his lips had curled into a rare smile.

"As for me, I've been brushing up on some ancient and very dead languages. There are some mysteries I've been hoping to reveal, some ancient scrolls and history long forgotten -- but all written in a script I'm admittedly unfamiliar with how to translate. Exciting, yes?" He mused, giving Capulet's hand a pat. "...surprisingly, I've had much more lovely and fascinating things on my mind." Namely, Capulet.

Yayoi

 

[Seussi]

They were squirming now. Not visibly, of course. They were far too wise, too old and practiced, to give anything away that easily. But she knew it, down to the deepest pits of her core, that she had struck a nerve. The whispers never lied to her. They always allowed her to see the truth of things, and sometimes, those truths were even helpful to her. They were a plague, festering away deep in her mind, a curse, and yet they could still bless her with the gift of prophecy at times, and keen insight in others.

Giddy. That's how she felt at the revelation, though neither of them had yet to actually confirm it. She didn't really need them to, though. A slow, cold smile spread across her lovely lips, as the tips of fangs barely peeked out. A vipers smile.

Neither of them had denied the existence of the children, either.

She had just been about to open her mouth to speak again, to flippantly brush off their words as nothing they could say would be remotely important to her now, when the door beyond them opened again and in stepped a hauntingly familiar form.

Her smile faded immediately.

"Vile thing." She hissed, as she instantly recognized Augustus Giovanni. "Vile, putrid, rotting thing." From beyond the lace of her hood, pale eyes burned with white-hot fury, and the woman who was only moments before laughing and putting on airs began to positively bristle. Her eyes never left him as he walked past, as he ignored their presence with a superiority that made her want to retch. So focused on him, she completely missed the bumbling Ravnos that stumbled his way over to Claudius. Claws flexed and bit into the palms of her trembling hands. She could not hear anything beyond the rush of voices that roared in her mind.

"I can still see it, that corruption that erodes from within him. You have it, too." She turned her head back to Claudius. Radu had only just stumbled off again. She barely gave him a parting glance. "A family trait.. I wonder how far the corruption extends?" Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a sneer. If there was any shred of civility in her toward them left, she let it go, taking a step back away from them, brushing against Lazar and offering them a few parting words before she turned with the rattle of bones, her voice laced with whispers once more.

"Do enjoy your evening. I hope the wine tastes as rotten as your dreadful ******** souls."

Cherix

Utax

yayoix

 

[Noir Songbird]

There were....quite a few very impressive people here. Honestly, it was comforting to be pulled up against Xenoza's side, to be held close and secure, and to get to feel just a little less nervous about the whole situation.

"Well. The high and mighty of the vampire world certainly are out tonight," he said, as if noting it aloud would make the situation feel any less...tense. But this was Elysium--surely everyone here would respect Elysium.

Perhaps sometimes Belial put too much faith in the rules. But even beyond that, he had Xenoza, and frankly, the two of them made a very good team. He'd been a fool to deny it even for as long as he had, but that was all in the past.

"Why don't we start with drinks, and then we'll see about some dancing," he said, with a little laugh that actually felt mostly real. Big fish or no, Belial was sure that as long as Xenoza was with him, he'd be fine.

Uta

 

[Yayoi]

Since their agreement to try and start over Aureliano had been trying his best to be more supportive. More encouraging. And perhaps not quite so severe in his disappointment with the younger male who was his husband. It was hard. So a while he had leaned so heavily into it to push the other away. Old habits died hard apparently. But he wouldn’t chide him for having a little bit of fun every now and again. Gods knew their situation wasn’t easy and they needed to find the little bits of enjoyment where they could. When they could.

He had been enjoying watching Ignatius dance. Something stirring deep within him as the other moved. Twisting and writhing on the dance floor in front of him. It was almost ethereal to watch. Captivating really. If there was one thing the fledgling was confident about it was his dancing. And Aurey could appreciate that.

But when the Baali had come into view, all of Aurey’s attention was drawn to him. The dance forgotten and their plan came roaring to the forefront once more. Their desperate search just might be over this night. He could only hope. He pulled Iggy in tighter against his side as they made their way over. The corners of his mouth lifting for only a moment’s breath at the other’s words. Luck. They had been quite unlucky thus far. One would only hope that the lady would turn a favorable eye on them this night.

As the Baali’s gaze fell on them he could feel the pain in his arm start to rise. Heat racing across his skin at the sudden pain that shot up him arm and into his chest. Fingers tightening around Ignatius’s shoulder as he fought to withstand the searing pain racing through his extremity. But no indication of pain showed on his face as they approached. Simply, he sucked in a sharp breath before letting it out. It would do them no good to lose face in front of this vile vampire.

When they stopped a few paces in front of the other male he tilted his head forward slightly in some kind of greeting. “Are you a Baali?” He asked straight up. There was no point in beating around the bush with pleasantries. The other would know soon enough that they weren’t there just to be curious. That they had need of his knowledge and perhaps his services.

Uta

 

[ziennia_zen]

It was good that Ashke was willing, because Ralza probably would’ve dragged her out to dance regardless of her willingness. The Ravnos did just that: dance. The feathers in her hair bounced distractingly once again, her movements carefree but otherwise focused in Ashke. She was her new companion, after all! It would be rude to ignore a friend, let alone a member of the Kumpania. For Ralza, being part of the Kumpania essentially made everyone her family. She treated everyone as her friends regardless of differing opinions. She’d s**t talk OTHER clans, but never her own.

“The name’s Ralza! But! You can call me anything you want, except b***h. I don’t like people calling me a b***h, even if it’s true.” Ralza said with a hint of sass creeping into her voice, smile morphing a little arrogantly. “Nice to meet ya, Ash! Can I call you that? Too bad, it’s happening!” The vampire declared confidently, dragging Ashke again to a different part of the dance floor. Ralza had a habit of that, asking for permission to do something but doing it before waiting for a response. It was part of being a Ravnos, one could suppose. She was far from malicious, though, and would stop unless she had good reason not to. For instance, she wouldn't stop pulling a little prank or causing general mayhem just because someone told her not to. In Ralza’s opinion, any fuddy-duddies who told her to stop could just shut up. She pulled the other into a partner dance with her, genuinely enjoying herself as she did so.

Cheri

 

[Yayoi]

Gideon was being very bold. But Capulet liked that. He much preferred if others spoke their mind instead of hiding away behind silence and uncertainty. And he was certain that Gideon knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough time to figure that out he was sure. Even if their last meeting had been brief it was clear that he hadn’t stopped thinking about the young vampire. It was flattering.

He peered up at him through thick eyelashes. Almost coyly at his words. “Again you flatter me so.” It was enough to get one’s heart racing if it had actually beat with life. But such as it was. He didn’t mind the flattery. In fact, he quite enjoyed it. I’m t had been too long since anyone had treated him as such. Since anyone had paid him this kind of attention. Oh, he had admirers for sure. Beaus and those who coveted him for his beauty. But Gideon had something else going for him. And Capulet was intended on niggling out exactly what it was. Anyone else would have probably ended up being boring to him by now. But not the intriguing stranger who’s arm he had.

As they moved through the garden he glanced about at all the greenery. It was amazing how alive the garden seemed even in the chilly air. Must have been some kind of magic that made it seem as such. That was an interesting thought.

He reached over with a small bit of laughter, adjusting Gideon’s collar and patting it flat with a light tut of his tongue. “I think you look very handsome. Quite distinguished if I might say so myself.”

When the topic turned to his interest in fashion he merely smiled. “More of an onlooker I would say. I love the latest outfits and the like but I have no real talent for design or sewing like some.” Tilting his head, a loose strand of hair fell from his updo with the motion. “My that sounds very exciting. I’m curious as to what language it might be. Though I highly doubt I would be of any use to deciphering it. I’m not quite that scholarly.”

Uta

 

[Uta]

Lorenzo continued to twist and turn on the dance floor, letting himself get lost in the music of the night. He wasn't here to play politics -- and why should he? He was just here to play. It was his first big party that didn't take place at the Giovanni estate, and the young vampire was eager to indulge in the Toreador's generosity. Music. Vitae. Dancing. Art. Everything so far had been to dark-haired vampires taste, even if it was perhaps a bit too fashionable and high art, and less class, as was found among some of the Giovanni houses. But he wouldn't insult his hosts by saying so, and instead, was happy to allow himself to be entertained.

When a hand reached out to touch him, he whirled around to see who had approached. He'd been waiting for someone, anyone, to do more than look -- and the bravest among the crowd was a shorter, smaller vampire. Lorenzo's eyes drank in the form of the other -- cream and white skin, a shock of purple hair he could thoroughly appreciate, and clothes that fit him well. He particularly appreciated the wild pattern on the jacket -- it stood out among the plain suits and ties surrounding them.

Lips curling into a smile, he gave him a wink, and scooched a little closeer, choosing to dance with him without missing a beat. "Locked up in a mansion on the other side of town," he answered with a good humored laugh. It wasn't entirely a lie -- Lorenzo rarely had a reason to leave the mansion, and spent his time with his nose buried in his books. The parties he went to were often hosted by other Giovanni, or not ones he was allowed to attend. "But I'm here now -- care ot make the most of it, handsome?" He lifted his arms and moved even closer, bridging the distance between them as he swayed his hips and shimmied against him, the light of the clubroom reflecting off his jewelry. There was no doubt he was the son of a Daeva, and he used that ot his advantage.

Kyuketsuki06

Whoops! Sorry Tai -- I thought I'd replied but apparently made that up in my head. x:

 

[Erina_Nobara]

Callum was late. Late for a very important date! The Toreador’s New Year’s bash that is. Most likely he had gotten caught up in trying to find the place to begin with. He wasn’t very good with directions, and then to top things off he had to try and use one of those new fangled ‘machines’ that had something called GPS, whatever that was? He was about to stick it in a dumpster and just follow his instincts on getting to the party when it beeped at him. A …text bubble? He poked at the screen and it brought up a message. Oh right, he should have been there by now. He shrugged and pocketed the ‘device’ and concentrated. Surely he was close by.


He had entered torpor so long ago and only recently awakened. A lot had changed, and it baffled him. Upon finally finding his destination he entered the building as casually as possible, not to draw attention himself. He grabbed a full glass off a passing tray, and swirled the red liquid around inside before taking a sip. His long silvery hair fell around his shoulders, a hair decoration similar to a crown adorned his head. It was easy to tell who he was. The Salubri’s current 'leader'. His gray eyes scanned the area to see if anyone recognized him. It would be understandable if not though. There seemed to be a lot of younger vampires here. A supposedly old ‘fogey’ like him didn’t really seem to belong. But he was here to listen in mostly. See what all was going on in the world. And perhaps also learn something about the new generations.

Uta

lol I finally tossed him in! xD

 

[Seussi]

"As you well know, dear friend, I have multiple rooms for all kinds of different forms of entertainment." The smile that adorned his face now was full of a certain dry pride, humourless and yet still steeped in a heightened sense of ego. Whatever Armistice was trying to imply, Mithras was all too ready to play right into it.

So long as it wouldn't implicate him in any of the illegal activities that the Justicar was trying to pin on him. Those were the things that he would deny, deny, deny.

The smooth feeling of a silken glove glided across the back of the Methuselah's hand, and his gaze flicked down to where Armistice's hand was placed overtop of one of his own. He bent an ear toward the other vampire as he spoke, hearing words he could swear he'd heard at least a hundred times before. This was the moment when the other Ventrue gave him one last chance to back down, to give up on the game before it truly began anew. But where would be the fun in that? As much as Mithras loathed to admit it out loud, sometimes these little visits from Armistice could inject new life into the mundanity of his own.

"What game?" He asked, shifting his hand away while turning his body toward the other vampire, an elbow now resting against the bartop, and he let out a light sigh, giving his head a shake. "If only I was doing anything wrong, perhaps then your little plea might get through to me. Alas, as I have been working entirely above board since...well, forever, there is nothing for me to admit to." He gave a smooth shrug of his shoulders then, and looking past Armistice over one of the other man's shoulders, squinted his eyes.

"Is that Constancia and Lazar? Huh. I thought they both died during the purge. Fancy that." He took another sip of his wine then, watching the two ancient Cappadocians, one of whom had actually helped him by offering him a secret place to hide and fall into his most recent torpor.

Seeing her brought painful memories of that time. A sting that pricked sharply against his heart. Another reminder of what, and who, he had lost back then.

yayoi

 

[Mewsings of An Angel]

Devlin, his dark attire blending seamlessly with the shadows, arrived at the grand New Year's ball hosted by the Toreador clan.
Devlin chose an ensemble that reflected his reserved elegance. Clad in a tailored black suit with subtle velvet accents, he exuded a timeless charm. The jacket hugged his slender frame, while the black silk shirt underneath added a touch of sophistication. His deep red tie, carefully knotted, provided a subtle nod to his vampiric nature.

A pair of polished, leather dress shoes completed his look, their dark luster complementing the overall ensemble. Devlin's choice of attire was a delicate balance between blending in with the Toreador's refined taste and maintaining his own understated style.

To conceal his vampiric features, Devlin wore a cascading black silk scarf that draped loosely around his neck, creating an air of mystery. As he moved through the grand ballroom, the occasional glint of silver cufflinks caught the light, adding a subtle sparkle to his ensemble.

Devlin's wardrobe, while not as flamboyant as some Toreador attendees, spoke volumes about his quiet confidence and meticulous attention to detail. In this sea of opulence, he found comfort in his understated yet refined appearance, allowing him to navigate the festivities with a sense of quiet grace. The opulent venue shimmered with sparkling lights and vibrant colors, creating a dazzling atmosphere. As he entered, the scent of roses and the sound of elegant music enveloped him.

His pale skin and sharp, crimson eyes contrasted with the lively crowd. Devlin observed from the outskirts, hesitant to draw attention to himself. The Toreador, known for their love of art, beauty, and social gatherings, seemed to effortlessly embody the extravagant spirit of the occasion.

Keeping to the shadows, Devlin felt the energy of the room pulsating around him. He observed the Toreador engaging in animated conversations, their laughter echoing through the grand hall. The delicate clinking of glasses and the soft rustle of luxurious fabrics filled the air.

The shy vampire moved with graceful caution, avoiding direct eye contact as he navigated through the swirling sea of elegantly dressed attendees. His steps were measured, and his eyes darted from one captivating sight to another—a mesmerizing dance, an intricate piece of art, and the intricate details of the glamorous attire adorning the Toreador.

Devlin found a quiet corner, hidden beneath a cascade of silk drapes, where he could observe the festivities from a distance. His reserved nature made it challenging to approach the vibrant social scene, but a hint of curiosity sparked within him as he witnessed the Toreador embracing life with such passion.

Devlin, still on the periphery, observed the Toreador celebrating with exuberance. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he allowed himself to appreciate the beauty of the moment. Though quiet and reserved, he found solace in the lively energy of the Toreador's grand celebration, silently reveling in the unique charm of their world.

 

[Uta]

Xenoza would have never in a million years thought that Belial could ever feel anything but confident. He was completely oblivious to any sign of nervousness in the illustrious other, though he did enjoy how close his lover stood beside him. He practically puffed out his chest, tightening his grip all the more -- but that was only because he weanted to ensure that some pretty or handsome face didn't charm Bel away.

Xenoza didn't feel out of place among the crowd of hoity-toity vampires -- he wasn't clever enough to realize that he walked among giants. Certainly, he could feel the power radiating off some, but he was young, and knew that the vast majority of vampires outranked him. He found the power more fascinating than anything, a hope to aspire to such strength. Any discomfort he felt was simply the fact Xenoza hated wearing pants -- but he would do so because Belial wished it.

"Is a nice night to be out, love. Not too wet outside, not too cold, ample darkness, no sun," he replied, his simple mind certain that the fine nighttime weather was the root cause. Why wouldn't the mighty want to enjoy a fine evening? And of course, there was a party as well.

Thankfully, if Belial felt unsure, Xeno did not, in any fashion. He felt good, besides the restrictive pants, and was more than happy to show off Belial to the crowd. Looking over at the beauty on his arm, he sucked in a breath before smiling. "It's good you came tonight, Bels -- you're the prettiest one here, bar none." His words were true. Prettier than any of the art pieces, more alluring than any of the statues or gardens, and definitely more attractive than any of the others waltzing around.

"Drinks it is!" Without hesitating, Xenoza navigated among the crowd. If his eyes fell onf Grendel and all the power he was radiating, it couldn't be helped. "Hey look -- no shoes!" He nudged Belial and pointed, absolutely delighted. It was a kindred spirit, clearly, donning the restriction and expectation of clothes. Giving a thumbs up at the god as they passed, completely oblivious to the fact it was the great and fierce god Grendel, Xenoza could appreciate a vampire saying no to the man.... or at least, no to the restriction of clothes.

By the time they made it to the bar, Xenoza was in good spirits. "Whiskey on the rocks," he ordered, wanting to test the Toreador bar tender. So far, every where he went they only ever gave him whiskey with ice. Nobody, it seemed, carried rocks behind the bar. Amateurs.

Noir Songbird

 

[Kyuketsuki06]

The disciple gave the God a nod, along with his lovers acts of respect. All of them a glimmering sight multiplied. Abanaub hadn’t had much other conversation with the God since the offer of power. He led the three of them to the bar. He missed most of the happenings, such as you do when late to arrive. Though could feel some tension in the air amongst other things. None of his concern. If it was to be known he could be filled in later, Kemat would know eventually, she usually filled him in at plenty of things going on.

Making the effort to show up was enough, already partially counting the minutes til they left. He would take a stroll around before then, where he could. It wasn’t often he was out in another’s domain. Subconsciously his eyes had gone to slit pupils, something that happened when out of his comfort zone, or when he got surprise visits. It was subtle unless looking right at him then he looked ready to strike with those serpentine eyes.

“I would rather go back, but let’s make the most of the outing.” He admitted. The urge to just make a quick sweep and walk right back out. He wasn’t very big on gatherings outside his own clan.

Cheri

Uta

—-

Izaiah moved through skirting by others, adept to weaving through along with Shay. “Don’t mind how I feel, this is for you.” His expression relaxed a bit at the wonder while Shay looked at art as they passed. “I like your work better, but I guess I haven’t much paid attention til now.” Feeling a bit more comfortable as they approached the club area, he’d follow him to find all the art they could, but first Iza was going to grab a drink, relax in a familiar setting and then whatever was asked of him would be fine. “A drink and a quick dance and then let’s go do what you came here for.” Swaying with him for a moment, “I can’t decide if I like this kind of dress on you or the club one better.”

Cheri

___

Tai very much liked the other, and he was not shy even though smaller, Daeva father and all, “I always make the most of things, I won’t disappoint.” Moving in to dance with him without missing a beat, blatantly checking him over. Tai wasn’t really here for any reason, it was an event, and he went wherever something big was happening. Sometimes to see the drama and others for interactions like this.

It hard to not focus on the sheer top he wore, and he very much liked what he saw. “Could lock you up elsewhere if it interests you. I can be very accommodating.” He knew what he wanted, to lose the night to the tall pale beauty.

“I’m Yun Tai, but Tai is fine.” He had to get up on his toes slightly to reach his ear introducing himself. Making the excuse to use him to balance while also checking out that sheer fabric for himself. Subtly drawing a claw across a shoulder. Tai has a pleasant smirk plastered on that alluring face.

Quote:

Uta

 

[Yayoi]

“Yes I am very aware of your various rooms of debauchery.” Armistice had spent much time roaming around Mithras’s home and places of business in the centuries prior. Sometimes stumbling upon scenes he would need to use bleach to burn the sights off his retina. But otherwise he generally remained relatively unbothered. What would that say about him if he actually gave two shots about what the Methuselah enjoyed in his spare time. Nothing. It meant nothing.

The Justicar had much time to allow the shock value to roll right off his back and Mithras’s attempts to perhaps gain his attention in some childish way was more annoying than anything. He was a Ventrue. He was a King. He should have acted like one.

It was never personal for Armistice. The Camarilla had reasonable concerns and suspicions so they sent him on to investigate. And he knew, eventually, that he had to have faith that his time would not be wasted. Soon enough he would find the thinnest card in Mithras’s house of cards and it would all come timbl by down. That was the brilliance of the Justicar code. In the end the it would all wrap up rather nicely. He just had to bide his time.

Letting out a small sigh, red eyes closed as a muscle worked in his delicate jaw. He took another sip of his champagne, letting its dry flavor roll across his tongue as he savored it. It wasn’t that bad, certainly not the cheap stuff. Armistice didn’t do cheap. Just like any other Ventrue he was used to the opulence that came with clan and station. Being a Justicar opened doors for him that were otherwise closed for others. He gestured broadly with a gloved hand once Mithras had pulled his hand away. “This will be my warning to you, Mithras.” Was he telling the truth? Who could say. The Justicar pushed himself away from the bar, leaving his half empty glass sitting there as he straightened out his gloves and smoothed out his coat before adjusting his tie. “I would hate to leave the ranks of my fellow Justicars with business unfinished. But then perhaps the next will be able to accomplish what I could not. Not that it matters, I’ll be part of the council as all Justicars are when they retire. So one way or another….I’ll still have my eye on you.”

When Mithras tried to direct his attention to the Cappadocians Armistice didn’t even turn his head. He wasn’t here for them. No, his soul purpose in that moment was Mithras. He knew very little about the Methuselah’s connection to Constancia. In fact what he knew about Mithras’s unlife before was minimal as well. It was all irrelevant anyhow. What mattered were what the Camarilla could see in the here and now. The actions of the so called king in this era.

Seussi