When the entered the night club, Elizabeth's eyes took in all it's splendour. Her eyes swayed and bounced from the people attending the party (and giving a rough estimate as to how many were there), to the decor, or theme colour, who the individual may be that was hosting the party, and finally, she scanned for Tate in the hope that the woman had come. Tate hadn't said no outright, but she hadn't said yes either. So there was a sliver of hope, or chance that she very well might be here. When Elizabeth's eyes landed on a woman with hair the colour of embers glowing in a raging fire, wearing a jean jacket coat, Elizabeth knew that it was none other than Tate.
"Tate has decided to come." Elizabeth informed Cozi as she leaned into his side, her voice just barely loud enough over the bustle of the chattering of the people in the club, and the music. But even as she said this, Elizabeth seemed hesitant to move as the woman absorbed everything that was going on. "I...did not expect so many people." She admitted just as softly as her arm tightened around her childe's. Her free arm moved up to the side of her head, her hand cupping over her ears as she closed her eyes and took a small step forward. Was it the music, or the people that there was just too much of for the telepath woman?
She had to find Tate. Let the woman know that she; that they, were here. Elizabeth had invited her and it would be rude to make her think that she never showed. "Would you like to say hello to her, or would you prefer to mingle?" Elizabeth knew what she wanted to do and what she was going to do, but there was no reason Cozi had to stay glued to her side, especially if there was someone inside the club that he knew and would rather spend his time with. "I would like to tell her quick that we are here, if she wishes to join us-but I can do that by myself. I mind not." Elizabeth said as the hand around her ear slid down the side of her face and found the material of her green coloured dress, in preparation of walking to Tate's location.
Why are you taking me through troubled waters, I asked? Because your enemies cannot swim, he replied.
It wasn't long before Kira was greeted, she hadn't expected it to be the man behind this all however. "Thank you, it's a pleasure to be here." she replied. She didn't give her name out, not that she any time as he was off again. Being the host, he had a lot of guests to greet.
She took a glass of wine, she might as well, it was there. She wasn't the most social creature and there was a lot of people here, drinking wine did give her something to do. From the exchange between the males, it seems maybe it was best Reggie was not here. It was rather annoying when David flirted with anything on two legs but she wasn't sure how she would react to complete strangers making a pass on him. Then again, it might be amusing, not for him however.
"I wish I had a body. This party is great." she heard her wraith whisper in her ear.
'You would..' Kira thought. She should have poked Lexy and asked if she was coming here. She was the social butterfly and one she would be able to find no matter if she was wearing a mask or not. She was sure she still didn't know anyone here. She was here to more observe than to mingle however.
The colors and decor was calling to her creative side however, ideas for some new shows at The Majestic Lounge came to mind even though she still had a far list of things she was working on right now.
Claimed by Reginald ღ Stalked by Anemoi
Dorcha Geolladh - Sekpoli - Q2
We Are the Dark Promise - Breath of Life
Darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream
There was nothing Robin could do about Maddison flirting with the bartender. She was her own woman, she could do what she wanted. It didn’t matter if he didn’t like it. Did she even know that he didn’t like it? It wasn’t as if they were together – even if they had come to this party together. But then, they hadn’t, had they? They’d had to come separately. They could have just been two people who met at the party. They could be brother and sister for all anyone knew.
Robin just rolled his eyes as Maddison went about her business, his eyes sweeping the room once more. After they got their drinks, then what? The conversation went silent after Robin heard Maddison ask for a red wine and he just shook his head. He turned toward the bar, mouth open to order a beer, or something, when he saw a different bartender pass over a cocktail to a woman further down the bar. The glass was a tall one with a bulbous bottom, the liquid inside a bright pink, layered to a light, frilly purple at the top. There was a piece of grapefruit (or something similarly pink) stuck to the top of the glass, while chopped up strawberries layered the bottom. Sticking out of the glass was a skewer (obviously to help eat the strawberries) but on top of the skewer was a fluffy ball of gold and pink tinsel. Robin smirked, and pointed to the bright cocktail.
”I’ll have one of those,” he said. The bartender arched a brow and paused, as if to ask Robin if he was serious. Robin held the eye contact, clearly not kidding. He was still getting to know Maddison in a lot of ways. She was a model, and though that didn’t necessarily mean that she was overly concerned with image, Robin had to guess that being seen with a semi-shirtless male drinking the girliest drink he could find might throw her.
Maddison stared at Robin when he ordered the girly drink. Her lips pursed and she gave a shrug. "I hope it tastes good." She could play this game with Robin. Things were about to get a whole lot worse. It didn't bother her that he was next to her in no shirt, getting ready to drink some pink drink. It only made him look worse. She was sure Lincoln would be loving this at the moment.
Maddison leaned across the bar when her glass was placed on the bar top. The blonde picked it up, taking a small sip. "Mm. That's good." She gave something of a delightful moan and sat her glass back on the bar top. Right now, she was thinking of how she could pay him back for his order of the pink drink. Robin certainly was a little bit of a ****. She leaned back against the bar top and thought for a moment.
Often Maddison could come off as clumsy and so tonight she did so. She swiped her hand out, accidentally knocking over the glass of wine, which then landed in Robin's lap. The blonde tucked her lower lip under the upper and looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to." She grabbed some napkins off the top of the bar, moving to pat at his pants with the white napkins.
Sal was excusing himself, and Lincoln found that he was surprised, brows raising as his gaze trailed the man disappearing into the crowd. He was impressed, actually. Salvador was taking his position seriously and heading off to help meet and greet, to ensure things were running as they were supposed to. It was a huge relief for Lincoln, he'd made the effort to swan around the room a few times but having a capable staff bought him a few minutes here and there of extra conversation with any individuals who might particularly interest him for a number of reasons. It could be like the man in front of him, a curiousity about who hid behind the mask and whether the face matched the handsome frame. Perhaps it was that someone had information or connections that were useful for the ambitious man and his endeavours, it didn't hurt to make friends who held benefits that he could partake of. While he wasn't the type to use and discard, he was aware of the nature of some connections and how fleeting they could be. It didn't bother him as long as there was no sour taste left in either side's mouth, longevity did not always mean good just as fleeting was not always something to remember with sadness. Short and sweet had benefits too, whether it was business or personal relationships.
Claude's deep voice drew his attention back, the man admitting aloud what both of them quite obviously knew. He was the host and he had indeed already spent more than his allotted time with this one guest, especially so early in the evening.
There was something about his voice that made Lincoln focus, it had a cultured quality, the words were smooth as coated in rich dark chocolate, and yet there was a crispness to them, pronounced thoroughly so each could be understood. English wasn't his first language, that much was easy enough to guess and Linc had spent enough time in Europe to take a guess at where Claude was from without it being a complete stab in the dark. Lincoln's own accent had it's moments of confusion, for the most part he had a subtle Canadian accent and spoke in a manner that communicated education and intelligence, occasionally slipping into colloquialism and swearing that highlighted the two worlds he lived in. Business ventures and sharp witted games of who could outsmart the other, and the young, rich party boy who had the world in his hands and access to everything considered "cool" and current. At times his accent would slip, something else shining through in the wow he enunciated, the way his mouth shaped words. Lincoln had been born in his mother's home country of Sweden, the family had only lived there until he was a young boy and while he had mostly shed his accent over the years it snuck up on him on occasion, in no way helped by the fact that at his family home they largely communicated in their mother tongue.
"Alas, you are correct, Mr. Medusa. It's a crying shame, but there are plenty more beautiful people who require my attention this evening." The young King finally admitted, his smile falling into a luscious, playful pout. "Will you miss me terribly?" He was teasing, having no expectation that the man wouldn't make himself more than comfortable in his surroundings.
When Claude took a deliberate step closer Lincoln found himself locked in place by the eyes that had been flashing over him since he'd first met them, the colour shifting under the muted lighting in the room but as Lincoln's head lowered to keep that eye contact he was finally able to put his finger on it. They weren't just brown, or hazel, he'd thought they almost appeared gold but no, it was bronze. There was warmth in that metallic gaze and it seemed to spread through his core, making his stomach muscles tighten involuntarily, a lazy smile touching his features as Claude's hand traced firmly down his torso. "I always do, Claude, after all i'm a King." There was a touch of flirtatious desire in his voice, a catch that showed he wasn't entirely unaffected by the contact or implication behind it but the man did a good job of recovering himself. A straightening of the shoulders and casual half step had him moving away from Claude, his own hand brushing out, letting fingertips trail against the man's midsection in a bold touch that seemed to say "we will be seeing each other again" before they withdrew entirely along with his presence.
Smiles were exchanged and more sets of hellos, Lincoln pointing them in the direction of drinks or the dance floor, stopping long enough to take any praise or suggestion given. Of course he spared a glance for Salvador, trying to spot where his employee had gotten to and one for Robin. The latter he found with ease, by the bar with the pretty blonde who was holding a glass of red wine and looking as if she were having an internal debate. Robin, shirtless beneath his jacket, looked remarkably pleased with himself as a pink cocktail was pushed across the bar top by a bartender who stared between the pair like he wasn't sure what to do. The bartender's gaze lingered on Maddison, but as he stared to Robin again seemed to make up his mind that it wasn't worth the trouble with the strange man there and departed to serve someone else. It was around this time that Maddison too made a decision, knocking herself in a manner that was clearly intended to appear accidental and upending the large glass of red onto Robin's pants. "You have GOT to be shitting me." Lincoln found himself saying out loud, though quietly, head shaking in disbelief at the scene. What the hell were they doing? Linc was fairly convinced it was some kind of ploy to a) get back at Robin for something and b) get him out of his pants. It was out there, but it was innocent enough and he found that he was laughing instead of being irritated. As long as they didn't burn the damn place down they could play their games, he'd just have to find out the details from Robin later on when he didn't stink of red wine and trouble.
Linc was drifting again, moving aimlessly in the direction of the entry where his head organiser was looking amusingly focused, occasionally speaking into the mouthpiece of her headset with hurried instructions. Upon seeing him looking he received a big thumbs up and enthusiastic grin, the expression lasting for a count of three seconds before her mouth dropped back into her natural expression of authoritative. He liked her. He'd begun to feel like a magpie that evening, for any time he caught sight of something shiny and interesting he wanted to go to it, to capture it and claim it for himself. This time it was a couple in silver and black, two men who were remarkably different and yet seemed to fit together, allowing their individual styles to stand out even as they complimented each other. One was taller, a golden array of blonde curls angelic around a skull face mask and a suit that bore silver butterflies on a black background. The other shorter and darker haired wore a shirt of mesh and pants of leather so tight they seemed to fit to every inch of him in a way that made Lincoln have to swallow, hard. His face was mostly obscured by chains in varying lengths and thickness, each of them looked like something out of a fashion magazine, fierce and edgy but something enticing in that, well put together. He WAS curious.
On his way towards them he caught sight again of a lone figure, a woman with deadly curves and dark hair, while she was unaccompanied she seemed perfectly at ease. He thought perhaps he recognised her, from a party or twenty but not a local party. No, she looked kind of like a woman he'd encountered out when he was at university, an heiress who everyone wanted to know, a really party girl. Her name started with an L, he was sure of it, but couldn't put his finger on it in that moment. Lincoln had a photographic memory, he would remember every single little detail if he saw it so remembering faces was never an issue. Had he seen her name written down and been able to relate to her he'd never forget it, it helped when dealing with clients and people were always so impressed at how he could regurgitate information about them. The trick was writing it down, associating it with the visual cues his brain seemed so eager to hold onto. He'd have to find out again, and as her gaze moved in his direction he noticed his hand lifting, a subtle movement accompanied by a nod of his head that beckoned her to him if she was interested in talking. He wouldn't be upset if she didn't, but he hoped she'd find him later.
For now he stood in front of the pair in silver and black, who had taken each other in an easy sort of embrace, a comfort that spoke of a loving couple. Lincoln grinned broadly at them both, opening his arms in a little sweep of welcome. "Well, hello, and welcome to the Bitr launch party. I'm Lincoln, Lincoln King your host and owner of Bitr. Please, grab a drink and enjoy yourselves." His posture relaxed again, having made his obligatory greeting. "You both look amazing, it's nice to see a different style and you definitely fit my theme. Is that from this years runway? I was actually eyeing off the white." He spoke to the man in the butterfly suit, he too was sporting Alexander McQueen and for that he partially blamed Robin, who had reminded him he much he admired the designer's work when he'd turned up to meet in a deep red number that made his blue eyes shine. The man in the skull mask had blue eyes, really familiar blue eyes and Lincoln's own widened. So... The rock star and business man had shown up, he wondered what other relevant figures had made the effort. A well known party girl, a rock star and many other beautiful beings.
Each of them looked like glittering jewels, a treasure trove of eager potential customers or business connections, partaking in drinks and loosening up. People were dancing, people were laughing and many were looking around with expressions of happiness. There were a few who seemed tentative, but he had yet to spot hostility. He had been looking for it, in fact he fully expected someone or something to try and disrupt this affair, whether it be a anti-vamp group screaming hate or vampires angry at him, thinking he was making a mockery of their situation. There were vampires in the room though, he could see them, he could feel it in the way they moved, in the coolness that seemed to settle around them when you brushed too close and they seemed just fine. It was good to be aware, but not to drive yourself silly worrying and so Lincoln merely kept an eye out, using caution to protect his party goers.
On the small, risen stage area someone was fiddling with a microphone in the low lighting, setting it up and ensuring everything was ready for when they host made his way up there to speak. Linc resisted the urge to check his watch, he would wait to see if the men chose to reply before rudely drifting away.
B r e a k t h e c h a i n s , s e v e r t h e l i n k s . . .
A n d w e l c o m e y o u r n e w M o n a r c h y
For a moment, Cosimo was taken back to his childhood; he remembered parties like this. There was one held once a year in his little hometown, and later on when he moved to Rome they were more numerous still. He’d been to a couple, but he remembered one in particular. He had been with his mother; she had kept telling him that he was her date. There were so many adults, and he should have been bored. But how could he be? They were all dressed up, their masks like something out of a mythological bestiary. When they danced they looked like fairies, and Cosimo had been young and impressionable. The men were so smart, so dapper and gentlemanly, their smiles as bright as the gleam in their eyes. They treated the women like precious jewels.
Elizabeth seemed concerned that Cosimo would be bored tonight; either that, or he would prefer someone else’s company to her own. Slowly, he shook his head.
”I did not know of this party until you told it to me. I do not know anyone else,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the sights and down to his sire. He noticed the way she covered her ear, the way her grip tightened even as she was telling him he didn’t have to stay. It was not hard to notice that Elizabeth was not fond of crowds, or of loud and raucous noise. At first he wondered why she would bring herself to these events, if she was not comfortable. But then he admired her courage to come even against her own judgment.
”I will say hello,” he said, searching out the crowd as if he might be able to pick Tate from all the jewels present. Of course he could not. A frown creased between his eyes, though it would not be seen beneath the mask.
”Tate – have I met her before?” he asked. He was not sure. Was she a part of their small family? Was it remiss of him, that he could not recall? He lingered, waiting for Elizabeth to take the lead. Perhaps she would know what this Tate was wearing, and the search would be easier.
Harkon paused half a block short of his destination, and took a long drag from the stub of a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He turned the invitiation over in his hands, squinting. He had only just arrived in town. Who could have slipped it under his motel door without him noticing? Who could know who he is, or what he is? He'll have to have another talk with the manager about access to the security footage. Discretely he adjusted the pistol tucked behind his belt buckle, hoping the old trick worked as usual. Checking the small of his back he found the knife secreted there stable and hopefully as invisible as his firearm. He had more than a little suspicion that he was about to walk into a firefight. It smelled like an ambush.
Flicking his cigarette butt across the street, he took a look at himself. His black leather boots were shined to a mirror sheen, sharply creased trousers stopping just above his foot. His belt buckle gleamed under the streetlights below his white shirt. His suit had been tailored to his specifications, the jacket partially lined to help conceal his sidearm, and the sleeves stopped just high enough for his simple, stainless steel cufflinks to peek out. The mask was another story. On short notice the best he could come up with was a plain white “il Medico della Peste,” the Plague Doctor, with a huge, beak-like nose from an antique shop full of cobwebs and forgotten dreams. It would have to do, at least it helped conceal the unsightly scar that ran from his jaw up two inches past the hairline of his clean shaven head. He adjusted the black silk tie at his throat and strode forward with a purpose.
He met the bouncer at the door the invitation led him to, and presented the sheet of cardstock. The bouncer waved him in, and Harkon breathed sigh of relief at the lax security. If that was his security detail he’d have crucified the man. Of course, he had “retired” from the industry with two 9mm rounds to the chest from a former employee so maybe his methods of discipline had been a bit harsh. Realistically, he thought, a party full of vampires probably doesn’t need much in the way of security. Gazing around the room, he was surprised to see a party like the invite promised instead of more disgruntled employees and burned clients waiting to blast him to hell. After a quick circumnavigation of the room he settled on a perch near the fire escape with good visibility and watched.
The von der Marck heiress’ gaze caught sight of a familiar-looking few people as she scanned the room. There was a rockstar, she was certain of it, newly arrived with his guest. She had almost definitely seen him in some of the same circles she usually moved within. And the man in the Medusa mask... there was something strangely familiar about him, as well, though that was a far more vague idea than the other.
And at last, the male in the gold McQueen who beckoned her over. She knew him, too, or of him. That much was becoming very clear, in the way he moved and interacted. But that was the funny thing about social circles, wasn’t it? No matter how ‘new’ or ‘innovative’ a theme, the attendees at various parties and functions became so common and known that they easily faded to the background most of the time. He seemed to be the host, she assumed, for she had watched him flit from person to group to couple and seemed to have an air of authority about him. Someone to know, for certain. Yet he was also engaging the rockstar and his date, or so it appeared to the Lioness, and Leonie simply wasn’t one to come when called. Anyone who knew her would know that.
A smile and an incline of her head was sent his way before she took a sip from the champagne glass in her hand. An invitation. If he wanted to know her, then he was certainly welcome to drop by. In the meantime, her gaze moved over the others gathering in the room, enjoying the solo outing more than she could have realized. After a few slow loops were made, she moved off to a seat at a quiet corner table, extremely glad for the night out, as she tried her best, with her limited experience, to pick out the vampires from the humans in the room.
Robin didn’t see it coming. The red wine was in his lap before he had a chance to leap away; more red wine sloshed and soaked into a suit he was glad he wouldn’t have another occasion to wear. There was probably some secret trick to getting red wine stains out of material but if there was, Robin didn’t know it – just like he didn’t know the secret trick to removing blood stains.
”You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. Someone barked a laugh nearby and Robin looked up; a woman who’d covered her mouth and who looked away as soon as Robin caught her eye. In the distance, he caught sight of Lincoln. He, too, looked like he had a smile on his face. It was all so bloody funny to everyone, wasn’t it? Robin rolled his eyes, attention swivelling to his crotch as he felt the press of napkins, watching as Maddison tried to clean up her mess. Robin could feel the wine dripping down his leg. It even soaked into his sock.
If he wasn’t destined to spend the entire night in the bathroom cleaning himself up, he was destined to be uncomfortable. In the past it wouldn’t have mattered – he’d have got so drunk that he couldn’t feel anything. Bodily comfort wasn’t much of an issue when one was drunk. But he couldn’t get drunk. Even the frilly pink drink he’d ordered could do nothing to assuage the rising irritation.
Lincoln HAD mentioned something about a spare outfit, hadn’t he? Or was he only talking about a spare shirt? Maybe he and Maddison were in cahoots; the first woman who’d spilled her drink all over Robin had been planted there, and it was all an elaborate ruse to get Robin out of his clothes and into something Lincoln-approved. Robin’s fingers closed over Maddison’s to get her to stop trying to soak up the wine with the napkins. There was too much of it.
”Stop, please,” he said, slipping from his stool.
”Come help me find this mythical back room,” he said. It wasn’t really a question. He had invited Maddison; he was there with her. It made sense that they stick together. The frilly pink drink was given to the person nearest to him with a smile and a nod – free drink!
Kaspar's brows raised behind his mask as the flashy man in the gold suit appeared to greet them, introducing himself as the owner of the company this party was for, the Bitr app. He let his blue gaze drape over the other man's frame, considering him. Lincoln was broader than Kaspar, he clearly put some effort into bulk as well as definition where muscles were concerned and he taller but not by a remarkable amount. "Ah, you are "the King" then..." Was all he said, a slow smile lifting the corners of his lips, glancing to the man at his side instead of the golden child in front of them. "We have not met before, i'm Kaspar... Or Hel." His hand flexed where it gripped Grey's hip, stroking idly over the leather as he introduced him, "And this is my partner, I won't give his name for him but I believe you two have spoken with each other..." He leaned forward on that, as if he were going to whisper conspiratorially to Lincoln, "I believe there was suggestion of "lust bibs" made." He sounded amused more than anything, though there was that touch of arrogance that he wasn't even bothering to try and hide. "As for the suit, you have a good eye. I was considering getting the white also, it is still on the list though I do not know when I would have the chance to wear it." He shrugged, eyes already staring around the room as if looking for a familiar figure or two among the party goers even though masks and outfits hid identities.
His hand reached up abruptly, lifting his mask enough that when he turned to press his lips against the side of Grey's head he was able, showing a flash of golden stubbled jaw and a cheeky smile dimpling cheeks. The mask was put back in place, Kaspar addressing the pair once more. "If you'll excuse me, I might take a look around this party. Grey, you and I have a dancing date later. Mr.King, I will speak to you soon enough i'm very sure. This idea is interesting, I will give you that much." With a nod of his head he was separating himself from the pair and heading deeper into the party.
The decorations were luxurious, there was a definite theme but it managed to say on the right side of extravagant rather than drifting into tacky territory. There was a bar handing out free drinks and that was where he found himself heading, passing a man and woman, the man missing a shirt beneath his suit which reeked of red wine. It seemed a bit early in the night for that kind of thing, though as he brushed by he noticed a coolness of skin that made his brows go up for the second time since he'd arrived. If they were what he suspected then it was unlikely it was the result of drunkenness unless it was a clumsy human or they were the kind of vampires who were susceptible to drugs and alcohol. Sometimes he wished he was, though he never really drank to get drunk as a human, it was more for the taste and social aspect. As he leaned against the bar waiting to be served he couldn't help but notice the variety of people who had arrived, wondering how many he might know or more to the point, want to know. Business's had been invited, and vampires, maybe he could meet his own goals by making his way around the room and communicating with interesting people.
When the bartender came by he got himself a whiskey, there was wine, beer and champagne on trays but he wasn't sure he was in the mood for it right now. Perhaps a champagne later, if he had to listen to a speech that might result in salutations and drinking. From a distance he watched the room, only once he felt he had taken his fill of the sights did he settle on Grey and the man in gold, watching the interaction with what would be thinly veiled amusement were his features not hidden.
"How you have fallen from heaven, Morningstar, son of the dawn"
