Gone Fishing [Open]

[Cedric Costello]

Matilda started laughing and Cedric arched a brow. He drew back as if he laughter was a slow slap, and it was only when she started to explain her laughter that he relaxed. Although a small smile had graced his lips, he wasn’t really amused. It was at this point that he’d have reached for a drink to take a sip. His fingers reached for the non-existent. He had to face this conversation drink free. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t just walked right into it.

”Nymphomaniac? No. Wouldn’t that suggest that I have sex with the dead?” he shook his head. He glanced around the pub; there were other women there. Women with friends. Women with other men. He couldn’t spot any who were by themselves. It was better when they were by themselves. The question was already answered, the way he looked around. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to the curious Australian.

”Oh I know all the other ways,” he said. He wasn’t stupid. And he tried. So often, he tried to satisfy his own desires. Sometimes it worked. Most of the time it didn’t, for the reasons that she had described.

”It happens regardless. I stick to [i[them[/i]. They’re more disposable,” he said. It sounded crass. It sounded merciless and cold. But it was the truth. It was obvious when his tongue ran over his teeth – to birds with one stone. Sex and blood in one hit. That was why they were disposable. They were food, too. And vampires were unpredictable. Cedric was still so new, and if he knocked up some vampiress who had ten times his strength, he’d end up a pile of ashes on the ground. He had to pick his battles.

The other question, he didn’t answer. No, he couldn’t help himself. That answer was given only with a lazy shrug and a flattening of his palms against the bar top. He had tried. He really had. For a couple of months – or had it only been weeks? – that he had tried celibacy. There was only so long that could last, though. And now here he was, prowling bars. He had no excuses.

[Matilda]

She'd only just managed to sober herself up, to shoot him an apologetic smile when he spoke again. "Sex with th-..." Another round of feminine giggles, a hand touching her throat as she tried to control herself. "No, mate, you're thinking of necrophilia there. I suppose nympho isn't right either, that's the feminine equivalent, male was... Uh, ****... Satyromania or something? I think that's it." The woman shrugged, another sweep of those oceanic blue orbs over his handsome frame, giving an openly disappointed look. "That really is a damn shame, handsome, I mean that must SUCK."

The curiosity over his answers had sobered her somewhat, following his eyes around the bar, her own taking in a few of the finer specimens who seemed to be largely paired off for the night. "That answer might have upset me once upon a time, made me feel guilty. Now? No, I get it. Waste not, want not I suppose, at least they get to go out with a bang... Quite literally." She smirked, tongue flicking out cheekily, tracing a canine as if by reflex. It was crude, and it was a rather inhumane view but she had slowly come to terms with what she was and what that meant. She didn't go out of her way to be cruel, if she could leave them alive she did and largely used her ability to sustain herself with her necromantic powers rather than feed.

Every now and then, however, especially when some idiot in a bar tried it on for size she was less inclined to be forgiving. It was easy to lose yourself in the blood once you started, to want to glut yourself open it and tear them apart. "It's not quite the same alone, is it? SURE, it gets the job done but that's the thing isn't it, you don't want it to ever be a job or a chore or a requirement. It should be a thing born of desire, of passion and of being keen on... Ah, i'm talking rubbish and i'm probably ruining your uh,... Hunt?" Not the best word, but would it make him feel better if she tried to paint them as something other than predators.

Her gaze slid back to the bar, to the drinks she couldn't let pass her lips, listening to the happy chatter and drunken mumblings of the humans that surrounded them. "Maybe I should've just taken him home and ended it." The words, as most of them had been between them, were quiet and just for his ears or perhaps this time for her own. A hunger stirred, a desire to do something different and bold, to make a mess that no one could clean up. "There isn't much in here for people like us, not tonight... You want to get out of here?"

[Cedric Costello]

Of course, Cedric’s imagination jumped to the crudest conclusions.

Whether or not she had corrected him on his slip-up was not an issue; his natural language wasn’t English, and though he was expertly versed in the phrases, he still tended to slip up every now and again. Nymphomaniac, Satyromania – these were things he would have to look up, later. Research could never do anyone any harm. No, any question on the meaning of words was lost, given her later ramblings. Ramblings about desire, and passion, and keenness of…?

Wasn’t she the one who’d said there were other ways to find satisfaction? And not all of alternative pleasure was had alone. Again, Cedric’s cool gaze swept the establishment, and though he didn’t really know what Matilda meant by ‘people like us’, he had to concede that there were no other women there. None that he could proposition, anyway. They were either too old or too young, or they were with groups of people, or with their other halves. They were on first dates, or they were in the middle of conquests of their own.

”Sure,” he said, rising to his feet and pushing his arms into his jacket.

”We can walk. You can tell me what you mean by ‘people like us’,” he said. Vampires, yes, perhaps, but was there something more to the statement? Probably not. Cedric was probably reading into things that didn’t exist. His desires were clouding his senses. He waited for Matilda to lead the way.

”Or, are you saying that what we are looking for, we’ve found?” he asked, gesturing to the door, head bowed inquisitively. ”What did you come here looking for?” he asked. Vampires who couldn’t drink had to come into bars for some other reason. Whether to hunt, or whether because they just liked to pretend they were human again. Matilda already knew Cedric’s reasons. Now it was her turn to share.

[Matilda]

There was a hint of an accent, she'd meant to ask about it and yet had been thoroughly distraction by the man's other admissions, and now here she was, asking this perfect stranger to head out into the night with her. She could take him, whatever happened, she had the abilities to heal her wounds, to stop his and to keep on fighting. It had taken her time to come to terms with being a necromancer, to being so close to death and yet she had. Now she relished in it, she wasn't just death, she was life. She was able to heal, to mend if she wished it and had done so over the years to earn a living and help those few who were considered loved. Hell, it might be fun to put him down if he tried anything disastrous with her.

The slender blonde did, indeed, lead the way. Sashaying towards the door she collected her coat, slipping it on and pressing her hand against the door to let them out into the night air. His questions gave her pause, once more she looked him over, leaning in to more closely study his features. Handsome, and smartly dressed. He clearly took care of himself, a quick drift of those deathly pale fingertips, cold to the touch against his abdomen, pressing beneath the layer of his coat to touch the fine material of his shirt proved as much. The firm muscle felt good, causing her to curl fingers against it, pressing in. "It really is a damn shame." She sighed out her laughter, releasing him to walk through the door and walking a few paces down the road.

She waited for him to catch up, oddly content to hover close to his side, not forcing distance even though she knew that was a potential unkindness to the man and his desires. Had they found what they were looking for? Maybe, but she wasn't about to encourage him to pursue it. Hadn't he just admitted to a brutal curse?

"What was I looking for? A change. Something new, someone to talk to perhaps, or dance with. Sure, they may have just ended up dinner, but it would be fun first. You hungry, Cedric? I could eat..." Again there was a flash of pink, tongue tapping against her canines, slipping between her lips, the vampire equivalent of a rumbling tummy. "And then maybe we can discuss other requirements if we've not found you a way to be..." Her eyes slid to his, challenge in them. "Satisfied." Matilda kept walking, heading in the vague direction of a club she knew would cater to them, where they could find someone willing to go home with an attractive pair, if that's what he was after, "And people like us... You and me, Cedric." She let it hover, let the words hang between them for him to decide on. Vampire or deviant? Even she wasn't sure anymore.

[Cedric Costello]

<Cedric Costello> Cedric laughed. Not only at the way Matilda seemed to examine him like some prime cut of meat in a butcher shop – touch test and all – but at the reasons she admitted to entering the pub to begin with. “You know, I moved to Harper Rock and I got settled. I finally was settled and decided to go out – to find a pub. To find something new, because I had nothing, then. I didn’t have a job, I didn’t know anyone. It was in that pub that I met my sire. She lured me back to her place,” he said, recalling the night with a peculiar kind of fondness, even if he did in some ways blame Castalia for his current cursed circumstances.

“I thought that she was taking me home for sex. I continued to think that until she drained me,” he laughed. It amused him, because she hadn’t exactly lied, and he had technically given his consent. He’d wanted something new, a fresh start, and she had given him exactly that. He wanted to tell her to be careful when going in wanting something ‘new’, but he was hardly going to complain, especially given the suggestions that Matilda had laid out on the table.

“But you… are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?” he asked, narrowing his gleaming gaze. “That we go and find some warm meal, take-away – that we take it home to share…?” He of course imagined a sordid scene, Cedric getting what he needed, Matilda watching on, and afterwards they’d both sate their hunger. “… I was trying to be delicate about it, but I was going to suggest that you could help. This works too…”


<Matilda> She let him talk, not interrupting, enjoying the opportunity to be the quiet one. It wasn’t that enjoyed being the one to carry conversation, it's just that she often landed herself in the position of hanging out with those who expected her to do so. Matilda walked ahead, carrying on towards the venue, glad it was a few blocks away. His voice was soothing, that accent again, "I don't know what i'm suggesting, other than we see where the night takes us. I've got a recently empty Penthouse at my disposal, i'm actually in the mood to feed properly for once rather than just..." She waved her hand, a vague gesture she didn't bother to explain, she was a necromancer and the ability to give herself sustenance came in handy, but the urge to feed had reared it's ugly head. "Your accent... Where are you from? English isn't your first language, is it?" Maybe he was one of those French Canadians, it could explain the European lilt, but that didn't seem to fit. "My sire found me bleeding from a snake bite and glass shards, it was an attempt to save me at first that went... South. He thought it was all a dream until I turned up on his doorstep and punched him in the face. We fought we were both bleeding and too tired to both, just, over it. Then we talked..."

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, elbow nudging to his side. "Whatever, the bitey bugger is ******* off to New York and his properties are mine for the using."


<Cedric Costello> Cedric could roll with that. He couldn't account for what he would do while under the influence of both bloodlust and regular lust, but thus far this Matilda seemed to be the sort who'd roll with the punches - and who wouldn't get offended easily. This was a theory he knew he could try out once the topic of accents had been introduced. "Properties, hm? Perhaps I will be a bitey ****** with properties, soon..." he said. The businesses were going well, and money was slowly starting to become a very large non-issue. "I am from Brussels," he finally answered. "And you are... from New Zealand?" he asked. Oh, he knew that she was Australian. There was a subtle, lazy difference in the way the vowels were pronounced. New Zealanders were a little more uptight. He was pushing that button on purpose.


<Matilda> She laughed at his assessment, that perhaps he would be a bitey ****** with properties soon, perhaps he would. It seemed vampires were good at this business deal. "Maybe you will be. Brussels, huh? French or Dutch? I was raised speaking French." She scoffed at the New Zealand comment, nodding her head sarcastically. "Uh huh, and I haven't been to NZ for nearly sEx years, SEX, can you believe it?" Her mock Kiwi accent was focused around the word intentionally, leaning casually into Cedric's side to give his ribs a firm jab of her elbow. "You're cute, real cute, smart arse." She drawled, returning to natural accent. "What the hell had you rocking up here?"


<Cedric Costello> "Dutch, mainly But I can speak French, and German," he said. That was something he'd only really discovered later in life - something he loved about his nationality, and his home. It had allowed him to learn so many languages, and while travelling, it was useful. He'd laughed at her teasing, flinching away in mock hurt as her elbow jabbed him in the side - yes, he agreed with his previous assumption, Matilda was not easily offended - but as soon as she asked his reasons for being in Harper Rock he seemed to immediately sober up. Although a hint of amusement still tickled his features, a stone wall had been erected. That was something he hadn't even talked to his sire about. It was something he was trying to let go - whilst also embracing it. Cedric could be cold. He could be merciless, And he had to be, to let go of the life that he had. If he wasn't cold, the need to reclaim it would eat him whole. "I needed a change. Something new," he said with a wink. "I would say 'be careful what you wish for', but I can't say that I regret it."


<Matilda> She couldn't exactly argue against that assessment, she was in the same boat in a way. "Yeah, I came here looking to run away I guess, to be somewhere far away from home and far away from grief. It backfired. Worst part is I think I was getting my **** together again, I was starting to open up and let go of some of the coldness that had earned me my nickname." She gave a derisive scoff, eyes rolling skyward, "Charmer... Because I was a reptile handler, yeah, but because I tended towards cold and quiet with my colleagues so they thought themselves pretty bloody smart for it. I thought they were mostly twats, but after a while they were ok and we got along fine. I was going out with them the night I, well, died I suppose? He killed me in a red dress and black tights." She gave a smirk, "That backfired on him." It had forever been one of his weaknesses, she'd put on red when she was trying to get a reaction and it never failed. The first time they'd seen each other when she returned to her senses after years of wildness, of distance living as a predatory vampire she wore red. He couldn't keep his hands off her, and the thought made her shudder, the immediate return to blind passion that the pair shared. She thought she'd be over it. "Hm, I still need something new, Cedric. Maybe you can teach me how to seduce someone in Dutch? I could handle that."


<Cedric Costello> The smile that greeted Cedric's features was pure charm. Charisma was a requirement in the business industry, and Cedric had it in spades, when he wanted to. More often than not, he was the strong silent type. He sat looking stern and stoic, or in the very least contemplative. Matilda had made him smile a lot more than other people managed to - but he was so often dealing with people at a professional capacity. It was nice to metaphorically let his hair down for once. "Perhaps you can learn through experience. Have you ever been seduced in Dutch?" he asked, his hands clasped behind his back while giving Matilda a sly side-glance. "A crude man would have commented on your ability to handle reptiles. I am not crude, however. I think that I have seduced you already. It only takes a little old fashioned chivalry, hm?"


<Matilda> She was laughing again, she couldn't help it. This time it was less in amusement and more a feminine, flirtatious reaction to his words and actions. He looked like a cheeky school boy, the way he clasped his hands behind his back, giving her a look so sly it was positively dripping with intention. "Aren't you, though? I figured you for a little crude, considering our topics of conversation thus far tonight... Cheeky bugger." She snickered, winking up at him. "You have, clearly. Just look at me, i'm about ready to swoon into your arms and demand you kiss me, big boy." She stopped suddenly, doing just that. “Why sir, I think i’ve got the vapours!” Matilda feigned a swoon, one that had her leaning into his side. She gave a convincing moan of one ready to pass out from overstimulation, lashes fluttering against her cheeks as her eyes came to a close. "Too much, too sexy, I cannot... Oh, Cedric! Catch me!" She whispered breathily, like some silver screen siren, the blonde quite ready to catch herself with a simple twist of the frame if he decided he was in the mood to let her drop.


<Cedric Costello> Oh, Cedric knew Matilda was having a laugh. She was teasing him, making light of his assertions of confident seduction. It wasn't new. Cedric was a man who was sure of himself, and sometimes he wasn't afraid to admit it. Past success with women allowed the man some confidence, and a woman making fun of him didn't have him cowering away. Defense was not an option; it didn't even cross his mind. She might have expected him to laugh, to step away, to let her fall. Instead, he caught her mid swoon. He didn't even give her a chance to backtrack, or to take it back. With his bulky frame and the muscles that she had previously felt proof of, Cedric did not have to be a vampire to easily catch Matilda and swoop her up into his arms; one cradling her shoulders, the other sweeping her knees out from underneath her. Being a vampire didn't hurt either, though - she was light as a feather, and the strain was non-existent. "Now now. Sex is not crude. It is serious - and passionate, a thing born of desire," he said, quoting Matilda's earlier statements. "I can kiss you, snake wrangler - I promise it won't get you pregnant..." he said. Yes, he'd caught her in her swoon, but if she wasn't serious, a kiss would take it too far. Anyway, the art of seduction lay in holding something back.


<Matilda> She was pleased to find him playing along, allowing herself to fall confidently into the arms that came up to meet her. At first she let herself slump, let him take her full weight, head lolling to his chest as if from weakness. It felt good, his muscular frame supporting her without any strain or struggle. She would have happily stayed there but his words intrigued her, causing her to lift her head so that she could level her gaze on him once more. Arms lifted, draping over his shoulders with all the familiarity of a lover or friend, easily embraced in the close hold he had on her. Cedric was cocky, sure, but wasn't that something Matilda tended to like? Strong, silent and deadly. A guy who walked with confidence because he knew he could probably snap you with his little finger or kiss you into submission if you let him close enough. Trouble, in other words. "Sex can be crude, depends who you're fu-..." It clicked a moment later, that her own words were being returned to her, and his suggestion that he could very well kiss her. Her look was one of contemplation, one leg crossing over the other, lazing in his arms as if in a hammock rather than being supported by a strange man. "Could you just? No, kissing never did get anyone pregnant, no matter what health teachers at school tried to tell us. It can lead to trouble though, can't it?" Her fingertips had found the nape of his neck, drifting back and forth over the skin she found there until the ends of his hair were captured instead. Her face was close now, with the way her head had lifted. Too close for what would be considered comfortable in polite company and so she ducked her head slightly, acting coy. Pointless in a way, by now he had to have figured out that couldn't be further from the truth.


<Cedric Costello> Cedric's pace had slowed. Nay, it had completely stopped. If there had been anyone following them, he'd have essentially provided a road block. Fortunately, they were quite alone on their side of the street. There were signs of life elsewhere, of course - other people going about their business. But none close enough to overhear the two vampires. Distant enough only to observe and wonder. Let them. Yes, he concurred - sex could be crude, but that wasn't the conversation they'd been having. A topic easily dismissed, though, in preference for the new one. Their lips were a breath's width apart, and even as Matilda bowed her head, Cedric's followed. Not kissing her, no, but keeping that small distance. "If by 'trouble' you mean losing all sense of self, skipping 'dinner' and going home together instead, then yes. A kiss can lead to trouble," he said, voice a deep, low hum.


<Matilda> She was momentarily aware of their surroundings, of the fact that they were acting up on a public street. People would just assume it was a couple in love, being silly and playful. They would be blissfully unaware of the delicate struggle between power and passion the vampires took part in. Her fingertips pressed further into that short hair, gripping gently as his head bowed towards hers. Anticipation perhaps rather than to stop him coming closer, that fraction of distance being kept between them. Skipping dinner? It was tempting. She was having trouble deciding which hunger was greater. Blood or Belgian? "Wouldn't that be awfully too much trouble, considering? Come on, Cedric, wouldn’t you be happier with some hot blooded thing instead of little old cold me?" There was teasing in the tone but it was barely heard, her voice low. Even as she offered an out she felt herself leaning closer to his chest, as if she could feel the way his words had rumbled deep within it. It had a resonant quality, his voice, and it made her wonder what he was if not an Allurist. Surely he should be one, but then again she’d faced many a charming man of different paths.


<Cedric Costello> With the variety of curses that vampires could be landed with, Cedric could at least count himself lucky that he hadn't been the unfortunate recipient of two insatiable hungers. If he was aware of the other, he might have indeed counted his profits. For now, he could only laugh; part amusement, part sympathy for the plight that Matilda had allowed herself to be swept up in. "There are different kinds of hunger in this world, and some are stronger than others. Hot, I am used to. Cold I have never tried before. It would be new," he said. Matilda's coy nature contradicted the slight lean of her body. It would take no effort at all to kiss her. He looked like he might, the way he glanced down at her lips and canted his head to the side, just slightly. Until he stopped, eyes finding hers. "But I cannot contradict myself. I have called myself chivalrous. The choice is yours - do I carry you home, or do I put you down?"

[Matilda]

<Matilda> She knew all too well about hunger, about cravings. She'd struggled with them for the past few years especially, anything she'd felt in life seeming to amplify or disappear entirely. Her passions and her fears all compounding, becoming too much at times and violence being an easy release. Here she was, again in the arms of the kind of man she'd spent time trying to forget and being so easily caught up in. "It would be new, for you. I guess for me too, because YOU are new... Either way, I don't need you to carry me." She studied his gaze, he was offering her the choice. Chivalry, he called it. She didn't know what it was but that didn't seem quite right. His lips were right there for the taking, and she had the strangest thought, a sarcastic little quip that she voiced. "I just need to check if you taste like chocolate, before I decide whether or not to eat you up." All it took was the slightest lean, the gentlest tug at the back of his head to close the distance between them and yet at the very last moment her head tilted just so, lips barely grazing the corner of his mouth instead. It was a tease, her lips lingering in a manner that let him take it for what it was or pursue it further. "The club is just around the block, we are so close."


<Cedric Costello> Cedric couldn't say that he hadn't warned her. Trouble? He had answered in the affirmative, and yet she pursued. Enough just to tease, enough to test. Castalia had wanted to clap some kind of chastity belt around Cedric's groin, and yet he had told her he could control it. Instead, he had learned to manage it. Control was not an issue. Willpower was not a strong suit. A taste was given, Belgian tongue prying at Australian lips, parting them though only intruding so far. As all first kisses are, it was new, and exploratory. His foot scuffed on the pavement as he took a single step forward, the first step toward a stagger to the wall. He'd have taken her, right then and there. Instead, his grip loosened and he put her down, palm pressed to the center of her chest high enough that his thumb pressed against the tendons of her slender neck. His shoulders were square, and his jaw tight. "You're the devil," he teased. "Go on. We'll get take-away," he said, his voice husky. threaded with the struggle so evident in his form. "You can choose."


<Matilda>

It appeared as if she had won the battle of willpower, when she teased he answered in kind, a press of lips in return and the insistent tongue urging her to allow him access. Matilda welcomed it with a slight parting of lips to draw him in, controlled and yet an edge of want that bordered on obscene; sharp and ready to cut if he pressed the issue. Her tongue came forward to meet his, a coiling serpent seeking heat, the warmth of desire. It was new, he was new and it made something inside her ache. There was magic in a first kiss, even the bad ones though this had yet to fall into category; excitement from the possibilities it presented, the nervous tightening of muscles in your stomach that felt like butterflies. She’d gone too long without that kind of stirring, awakening sensation.

Cedric’s step made her stiffen slightly against him, uncertain, only to find him releasing her to find her own two feet. It was a relief in a way, she didn’t really want to beat his *** for trying it on for size, especially in the middle of the street. She should have been concerned by the hand at her chest, fingers reaching towards her throat in a way that could have been menacing. Why instead did it excite her? There was tension in his frame that screamed danger, Matilda’s fingertips finding the strong line of his jaw in attempt to soothe it, enjoying the roughness the stubble presented. “The devil? Mmm, I might just be.” Her voice wasn’t entirely unaffected either, there was a breathlessness, a catching at the back of her throat that made her itch to clear it, to loosen her vocal chords. “I get to choose? Interesting. Any no-no’s or are you game, big boy?” It was teasing, a wink making that clear as she ducked suddenly, pulling away from him and the hand that sought to hold her in place. “We are so close… Come with me.” She drifted a few paces up the street to put a safer distance between them, turning to beckon with a crooked finger and lick of the lips.

If Matilda was to play the devil then they could burn together, tonight they’d claim a soul or two.


<Cedric Costello> Against her touch, the muscles of Cedric’s jaw softened. Her voice spoke volumes, more than the light banter uttered. As affected by the struggle as Cedric may be, amusement was still written clearly in the gray-blueness of his eyes, watching the serpentine woman break free and lead the way. The question repeated itself in his head even as he began to follow - not like a dog on a leash, but like a man who knew exactly where he was going and what he was getting himself into.

“Someone of the female persuasion would be better,” he suggested. Cedric had never had sex with a man, and nor did he ever intend to. It didn’t turn him on. It did absolutely nothing for him, to imagine himself in bed with another man. Besides which, if they were to take a man home, all Cedric’s lustful hunger would be focused on the vampiress - and that was something that neither of them really wanted. Well, it wasn’t something that Matilda would want; Cedric, in the heat of the moment, would probably do what his dick told him to. All pretense of chivalry would be thrown right out the window.

At least he assumed that he would stick around to help her cut the demon-spawn free. Wouldn’t he?

Matilda was not wrong. As soon as they reached the end of the block - beforehand, even - he could hear the music of the club. There was only a small line to get in, but through the front doors he could see the writhing masses within. He shoved his hands into his pockets, so as to control them, and nodded toward the door. “I do not generally enjoy this kind of music. Let’s be quick?”

It was an excuse. The quicker done, the quicker home.


<Matilda>

The heat of the club was enticing, she wanted to sun herself amongst the hot bodies, letting them writhe and sway around her, drawing her into their human interactions. The music wasn’t particularly her taste either, but it was close and it usually housed some interesting types and a variety of people. A woman, he’d prefer a woman and that was something she could quite happily roll with. “Patience is a virtue, Cedric, I promise i’ll make it worth your while.” She reached backwards for him, tugging him closer to her back by means of a fist in his jacket. “Don’t get left behind.”

It wasn’t particularly difficult for a female to skip the line and get into a club, the blonde woman shrugging free of her jacket to make it an easier sell. The bouncer’s hungry, beady eyes bobbed up and down in his fat face, studying her with sweaty appreciation that focused on the sheer blouse and what was nestled beneath her long, pale throat. He grunted his approval, ushering her forwards. “Thanks, honey.” She cooed, trailing a hand over his crossed arms, the other keeping a grip on Cedric to ensure he got through the door. Securely inside she released the man, wasting no time in heading out towards the dancefloor, hips picking up the rhythm of the music as she walked like the predator she was prowling into the midst of prey.


<Cedric Costello> Cedric watched the bouncer; he watched the man’s beady eyes and saw the approval clearly written in them. Cedric wanted to swap places; he wanted to see what the man was seeing, but hadn’t he already? At the pub, Cedric had got a rather good look at the blonde. Now he knew properly what he’d only sensed, then - this doll-like creature had sharp edges, and though they could be deadly if used with force, they were alluring all the same. They were nothing to be trifled with.

The suit that Cedric had donned was suited more to a cocktail event; it had been out of place at the pub, and was out of place here, too. The men were all prancing around in their metrosexual get-ups, their pink shirts and their leather pants, their thin ties or their neck lines dipping down to reveal hairy chests. And all so, so very young.Cedric felt twice their age, even if he was now just as agile. His body rocked with the laughter that could barely be heard parting his lips; he was an old man. He felt like an old man. The hand parting from his torso forced his focus on Matilda, hungry eyes watching her as she sashayed onto the dance floor.

Cedric stayed put. He wanted to watch. This was not something he thought he could dance to, and he enjoyed the view. He could have been someone’s bodyguard as he stood there, feet at shoulder’s distance apart, hands still pushed deep into his pockets. The expression was flat, and stoic. Strong and silent.


<Matilda> She turned to watch him, again get a flash of familiarity at his stance, at his refusal to join in on the dancing. Instead of pouting, of arguing or forcing him to join her she did the only thing she could. Put on a show. Matilda tossed her coat at him, if he was going to stand around watching then he could at least be useful, she figured, freeing her hands up for other activities.

Slender digits danced over her hips, running up her body until the sunk amongst the weight of her wavy blonde locks, lifting them from her neck. Eyes closed as she let her body adjust to the music, settling into the deeper, more seductive beat underneath. At one point in the not too distant past she had worked at Dark Eden, and on the opening night had performed a snake dance. Serpents coiling around her, slithering across her skin as she rocked and rolled, slinking around a stage with hypnotic ease.

There was no stage now, and no snakes to be wary of. The freedom of movement allowed her to drift closer to warm bodies, not in any rush to pick one out. In her experience it was better to let them come to you, to think it was their idea all along. It took one song before someone found her body with their hands, the music shifting to the familiar of a club favourite. Trent Reznor growled seductively, and she couldn’t help smirking. In early days of going out she noted a trend, women tended to flock together when the song came on, curves meeting in a manner designed to taunt and attract. She opened her eyes to study the one who had claimed her for the dance, a beautiful brunette with eyes coated in black eyeliner and lips smeared with gloss.


<Cedric Costello> Cedric was drawn to the dancers like a fish after a particularly shiny lure. Where he’d been quite happy standing there by himself, waiting and watching, he soon found himself sliding between the hot bodies, closer and closer to his target. There was something in the music - music which he would never have sought on his own - that caught at his limbs and heart, tugged him to and fro, with the women, around them, until eventually their quarry was hot and sweaty and like putty in their hands.

Between them - the petite blonde with the Australian accent and the burly male with the indefinable European accent, their little Canadian friend couldn’t resist. They could have been two tourists who’d only just met, ready and willing to have any kind of fun. And, surprisingly, Cedric was not at all hesitant. He’d not indulged in a threesome before; he’d been happily married, and since he’d been turned had only focused on one woman at a time. Now that he knew it was something he could achieve, he might do it more often.

Was it even discussed, whose place they would go back to? Cedric went with the flow -- they probably ended up at Matilda’s penthouse for a few reasons. One, Cedric was accustomed to never taking women home and two… well, penthouse. He couldn’t claim to own anything quite so grand.

The three of them didn’t have to talk about it. They didn’t have to discuss what they were going to do. The poor human had no idea what she was getting into -- she probably thought she was going to wake up in the morning amongst a tangle of stranger’s limbs, to snatch her clothes up off the floor and slip out without leaving a note, without breakfast. It wasn’t something he and Matilda had discussed, either - but if there was sex involved, the girl would have to die.

Just in case, before they began, he made sure to get as many details as he could from her. Name, number, possible living quarters. He might have to track her down later, if Matilda didn’t want a dead body in her penthouse.

Cedric left Matilda in charge of the music while he made himself comfortable in bed with their prey; whether Matilda wanted to join in, or just watch (to begin with), was completely up to her.


<Matilda> The blonde fiddled idly with a music player, plugging it into the sound system as she searched for an appropriate playlist to throw on shuffle. Moody, seductive rock poured at from the speakers as she pressed play, her body immediately picking up the rhythm with a content roll of hips. It was close to the penthouse, she figured, and it was a safe space that she knew well, better than landing herself in a strange situation without knowing all the exits. Not that she believed Cedric was there to cause her grief, quite the opposite in fact.

It had been a rushed, heated hussle home, hands seeking in darkness, hard to keep them away from each other or the warm morsel nestled between them but they’d managed it with some sense of dignity and self-control still intact. A quick drink had been poured, shots that passed neither vampires lips, somehow being fed to the human woman who happily took them, draping herself across the pair eager to get closer to every inch. There wasn’t need to wait long, Cedric had been asking casual questions, taking details in a way that seemed all too natural to him. Eventually he’d stood and stretched, offering his hand to the dark haired woman and given Matilda a wink as she too stood, moving away to the very place she now stood.

The noises from the bedroom were drowned out quickly by the music playing through the penthouse, Matilda having to move closer to listen for anything else. They hadn’t discussed where this might go, nor had they planned or prepared for the worst but for some reason she trusted him, to her chagrin she had to admit it was likely because he reminded her of someone which was the exact reason she shouldn’t. That only lead to disaster. As she moved her fingertips plucked at the sheer fabric of her blouse, tugging it over her head, flinging it ahead of her into the bedroom.

Silence reigned, no words parted her lips just a content sigh as the pair looked at her, Matilda taking her time in freeing herself of material restraints, the low light helping her complexion appear less pale, the necromancer’s curse not marring her beauty. Like a ghost she drifted towards them, joining when the woman’s arms reached for her, wanting to pull her into the bed and she allowed it, nestling on the other side of her warmth, lips burying into her dark hair. Over her head their eyes met, the predator’s appraising each other, waiting for the secret signal. Beneath the sheets her hand snaked out towards him, finding him with gentle touch and soft smile on her lips.

“All in, Cedric.”