Starving Artist (Invite)

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

"Do you want to go out to the Met with me tonight? Adelita asked as she emerged from around the corner of the hallway, in their shared apartment and into the door frame of Winfred's room. "No. I don't think so." Whinny said after flicking through a couple channels. "Maybe next week?" Adelita looked at her thrall who went back to channel surfing. There was a significant delayed reaction, which resulted in an awkward amount of silence between the two as Lita waited for a response. After waiting for what the woman deemed to be too long, Lita broached it again. "Maybe next week?" Adelita leaned against the door frame as a support, so she could slip each foot into a gold strappy heel, as the woman waited for Wynifred's reply.

"Oh. Sure. Next week." Wynifred nodded her head absently as she came to find some nineties sitcom the woman liked, while the woman snuggled under her covers. Adelita sighed, nodded her head knowing that 'next week,' would be the standard answer from Wynifred, until Adelita forces the woman to come out with her. Even if that means the thrall would be kicking and screaming. "Next week." Adelita confirmed with the woman, blowing a kiss that the back of the thrall's head before walking away from the woman's bedroom. A dark wool, thigh length coat would hide the one piece dress the Mexican woman wore, being secured by a matching belt around the petite woman's tiny waist line.

When the woman left the apartment, Adelita not only made sure the door was shut, but that the door was securely shut by locking both locks, and wiggling the door handle. Since the trip in Mexico, Whinny rarely left the apartment and went to the university less than before. Which hadn't been at an all too impressive rate before. The copper colored skin woman would walk from the Sanctuary apartments, to the Met, enjoying the mild winter weather. By mild, in Lita's mind and perceptions was anything that didn't have snow or rain in the forecast, or an absence of air that threatened any exposed skin. Such as her face and legs.

By the time Lita had arrived at the Met, it was half past ten; the club was bustling just a little, and slowly picking up speed. It wouldn't take that much more time to pass before it hit its peak, which would be in about twenty-five to thirty minutes. Lita left her coat at the check in counter, grabbed the ticket stub, slipped it in her small clutch and moved to the bar to get her first drink of the night. Something with alcohol and the color of red. Wine was always the best thing to drink while passing the time in Adelita's mind.

[Adley Reed]

[On the Right]

Adley’s last and only hope had been a bust. Of course, now that he thought about it, he scolded himself. What had made him think that turning up on a stranger’s doorstep would get him anywhere? Why would a perfect stranger reach out and take him in? He supposed he didn’t understand how the world of vampires worked. He thought he did, given that he had lived on the outskirts for years before he was taken into the immortal fold. Anger resided deep in his chest, a broiling grudge that would not shift. But he used it now for a greater purpose.

For so long, he’d wanted only to find Abelle and scream at her. What the **** was she thinking? Why the **** would she turn someone and then just leave? But he would have given the impression that he was fine, right? He was independent. He could take care of himself. Though it would have been nice to have been told a few things before she left him out in the cold.

After his meeting with Zodiac he had concluded that the same thing must have happened to Abelle. Surely. That woman was so cold and uncaring, she probably left Abelle to figure **** out on her own, too. She clearly didn’t want to take responsibility for what Abelle had failed to do; a mostly-fledgling vampire had told her he didn’t know anything, and she hadn’t even ******* tried. She hadn’t got back to him, either, when she said she would. No, the anger was no good sitting there to age like a fine wine. Adley would figure **** out on his own. And when – if – Abelle came back, he’d have great joy in telling her he didn’t need her sorry ***. Ever.

Blood thieves, he assumed, were as equally despised by vampires as he had learned that Necurats were. He had survived as a blood thief; no one had ever knocked down his door to send him to an early grave. Maybe he had been lucky. But he had had also been careful. Careful was not something that he had been when feeding as a vampire. He had learned his lesson. Sure, yes, he still had the footage. He had made copies, and those copies he kept in a safe place – he had no idea what to do with the footage yet, if anything at all. But grudges, it would seem, were something that he liked to hold.

But, regardless. As a blood thief had had got blood from vampires. Normally there was blackmail involved. Normally, they were just happy to take the cash. Why couldn’t he do the same thing now? Find a vampire willing to sell. It couldn’t be too hard, right? And he had an added advantage. As a fellow immortal, others of his kind were easier to spot.

In a club like the Met, it didn’t matter if he didn’t have a drink. He could still blend in. He, too, had left a coat at the check-in, but he still wore his jacket over a crisp white shirt. He knew that he looked neat, clean. Approachable. He was ready to do business. The crowds began to thicken, and Adley meandered through them; he weaved in and out, trying to pick the cool bodies from the hot ones. There was no fear.

If he asked really nicely, who, really, could refuse?

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

Wine wasn't all that hard to come by in most clubs, even if the selection was typically a little weak in the woman's mind. Wine was seen more in places where someone ate, not where they wanted to dance the night away and get stupid drunk. Not that Adelita could do that anymore; even though the woman could enjoy the taste of alcohol and other things like drugs (if she was into that scene-which she wasn't), and even food, it just wasn't as palatable as it used to be. Lita definitely noticed a difference in the flavor since becoming a vampire.

With the glass of wine in her hand with the liquid a color of deep mahogany, Adelita turned from the bar and let her bare back rest against it as her eyes scanned the crowd of people. While the woman did this, she couldn't help but notice something...interesting further down the bar. With most people's back to the bar, busy looking for friends, looking at friends, or watching what was going on everywhere but right beneath their nose, there was both ample and prime opportunities for things to go amiss.

The petite Mexican woman crossed one leg over the other before she made her way to the end of the bar, where Lita would let an elbow rest on the grain of the bar as she leaned in and glanced at the woman to her right. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" Adelita let her drink rest on the counter, besides the woman's own wine glass which was a tad shade lighter than Lita's and pressed her lips to the woman's cheek so that she could whisper something very softly in her ear. "I'm going to trade you drinks...word of advice sweetie?" Adelita's fingers shifted the position of their drinks so she could take the other wine glass from off the bar and leave with it. "Ditch the loser that wanted to make you his weekend pussy." Adelita didn't give the woman any chance to react to what she said before Lita was off with the tall glass and dumped it further down the bar in an abandoned mug of beer.

Normally, Lita wouldn't have been that type of woman. She would have left the woman to her own devices, figuring if she was stupid enough to not watch her drink then she was stupid enough to get what was coming to her, but since her return from Mexico and what happened there with Wynifred, Adelita was suddenly proactive in helping other women out in situations like these.

With the wine disposed of and the glass next to the almost overflowing glass mug of beer, Adelita decided to leave the bar, drink-less and meander throughout the club in search of some of Wynifred's collegian friends. Just because Wynifred wasn't around, didn't mean her friends wouldn't be. As the woman looked around for someone she knew-she brushed up against a guy she didn't know. The first thought that came to her mind was how...gorgeous he looked. His skin tone was unique and his eyes were a unique mixture or green and blue hues that had anyone that looked into them...captivated. "I am so sorry." Adelita apologized, which was another thing she didn't really do-but this had been unintentional, unlike a lot of other times she was in this exact scenario. As the woman apologized a hand went around the spot she bumped, which was just above his elbow, not at all concerned that her cold fingers would be felt through his shirt and jacket he wore. And even if he did...so what? Lita didn't look like your typical vampire; what with absence of fangs and the lack of lifelessness to her features, she certainly was far from your typical vampire. "Anyways, I'm sorry again. Maybe save me a dance later?" Adelita gave him a wink with her left eye before moving to the side room that held...well, she didn't know yet, but Lita was going to find out.

Outfit

[Adley Reed]

There was something about places like this. They were like breeding grounds. Watering holes for people desperate for company, for attention, for fun. Single men and women drank alcohol to bolster their courage, to spread their metaphorical feathers and send out the mating signal. At least, that was Adley’s opinion, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. Humans were not meant to be solitary creatures. They craved company, and they liked to find a suitable partner to mate with for life. That was, of course, if one wanted to prescribe to the notion that they were, at heart, born to procreate.

Adley, on the other had, prescribed to the notion that he ought to spread his seed – or, well, he did. Now, as far as he was aware, his seed wouldn’t do much of anything. But, again, he hadn’t had a thorough education in this life. For all he knew, he could procreate the same as he always had. It wasn’t something he was going to test. He’d never tried to procreate. The last thing he’d wanted was some rugrat to take care of every other weekend, or some ***** to demand money from him to help pay for a child he never agreed to. No, he was very careful when ‘spreading his seed’.

A young, drunk girl suddenly grabbed Adley by the hands; she tried to pull him onto the dance floor. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, though she paid for it. He followed, knowing that she’d soon give up. It was something he’d noticed had gotten worse over time. With prolonged contact, the girl started to wilt. A sigh passed her lips as she stumbled, as she looked like she was going to faint.

”Maybe you should go splash your face - get a drink of water,” he said, leaning down to speak directly into the girl’s ear. She was confused, but she nodded, stumbling off through the crowd to try to get her bounce back. Adley watched as she retreated, himself stopped dead centre in the middle of the thriving hub of life - would she revive? Surely…

It was then that he was bumped into by another woman. He was gently nudged and pushed by other people, but this was a solid brush. As if she were distracted with something else and wasn’t entirely looking where she was going.

A mischievous smirk danced over Adley’s lips at her reaction; the way her fingers held him there, the way she looked at him. He didn’t miss it, and was entirely aware of his own good looks. It had been mentioned to him before, the way his skin tone helped his eyes to pop. Later, she suggested. Later, they should dance. There was something about the hardness to her skin, the cold of her touch even through his jacket. That was a sign, wasn’t it? Cold skin. It was cold outside but in here, the heat was palpable. He followed her, swinging around so that he could face her, his hand gracing her hip.

”Why not dance now?” he asked.

No, he didn’t adhere to the instinct to procreate; but he did like a bit of a fun every now and again.

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

As she moved towards a section of the club that looked to appear to lead outside, Adelita decided it would be best to not go that way after all. No one would be outside in the middle of winter; most of all her. Not in these shoes and this dress. She might be pegged as a vampire, or worse...insane. And while she was one of those, Adelita didn't want to be labeled the other.

The Mexican woman was just about to turn around and head back in the direction she came from when the guy she bumped into a couple seconds ago was standing in front of her, with his hand on her hip. She could dance now, nothing was preventing her from dancing now-but it had been a small lie she had told him; that Lita would have told anyone had they been in his exact predicament. "I would, if I had never heard that one before." Honey irises dropped their gaze to the hand on her hip, one that didn't seem to be going anywhere, any time soon. Not that Adelita was going to make it go anywhere either. Adelita wasn't shy, or modest and a hand on a hip hardly meant anything to her. It would have to go a lot lower to even spur a reaction from the woman.

"Let's cut to the chase and skip past the suggestion of drinks too?" Adelita made a small 'hmm,' noise after that question, though the question she posed didn't actually require an answer. It was more of a rhetorical suggestion, than anything. "Are you mad I bumped into you, or did you take that as some sort of attempt to garner your attention, indicating I might want to bone you later?" Lita let her eyes wander off the male, simply because staring at his...attractive features might make him uncomfortable and let him know that she found him mildly....handsome. If not that, then at least unique and Lita sort of liked all things unique.

"I apologized. I hope to reassure you that I didn't bump into you out of maliciousness or some other ulterior motive. Though....I won't apologize for having your attention now." A hand went to his so her fingers could brush the tops of them very quickly. It was flirty, absolutely-but he had started it and flirting went a long way with some people. Some revealed what their real intents were-and somehow Adelita believed a guy in a button down and coat was here to just dance. Not with that face. "Jury is still out on the boning probability, too." Another truth withing a lie, but could be misconstrued that she was one of those easy types that might just let him have a different sort of dance with her later.

[Adley Reed]

Adley wondered whether this woman was drunk. Was that an accent he could hear? She didn’t look drunk. Maybe she had short term memory, like a goldfish? She would dance with him, if she hadn’t heard that one before? As if he were the one who’d initiated this little ‘pick-up’ session. She’d been the one to suggest it, for later. And now she was acting as if she’d never bumped into him at all. Except, she referred to it.

Women. Sometimes, Adley really failed to understand them. Especially the good looking kind. Especially the good looking kind with egos, who knew they were good looking. Except, he was the same but male, right? So who could he really judge? He just laughed and shook his head.

”You were the one to suggest the dance, lady. You might want to skip asking a guy if he wants to dance later if you don’t want him to think you want his attention. You should turn all those questions back on yourself,” he said. Why was it that the men were always accused of being the predators? Women were just as bad. She could be the one who’d have suggested drinks, and then boning later. Adley could have been interested only in a dance. Though, boning wasn’t really on Adley’s mind – or wasn’t, until she suggested it. Until she coyly offered it as a possibility.

No, Adley just wanted blood, and as he swayed closer to the woman, as he took a deep breath, as his gaze bore into her skin and swept over her hair, caught her eyes, he determined that she was more than human. It was an assumption. He wasn’t certain. But there was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on; some kind of sixth sense. He’d known, as a blood thief, how to detect vampires. So why couldn’t that skill have carried over?

”Unless you’re some kind of weird and you don’t want to dance, despite having offered it. In which case I can kindly **** off,” he said. There was no annoyance in his tone. Amusement, mostly – curiosity. What kind of person was she?

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

Lita listened to the guy's words, flickers of amusement in both her eyes and the upward turn of her lips at his words. She had offered, but she hadn't expected him to take the offer seriously. Adelita had planned on ditching out of the club in an hour at most time and find something else to do with her night. Maybe the club a couple blocks down. Dinner somewhere? A movie? Really, anything other than sitting at home again would do.

"Lady?" Adelita asked intrigued at the use of the word from the guy. Usually, calling a woman indicated some form of annoyance and the Mexican woman narrowed her eyes as she tried to get a 'feel' for just what the guy was wanting. Sometimes, Lita could do that; she wasn't positive how she could figure out a person based off words, or body language, but sometimes she could. She more or less knew where she laid with Elighan and a couple others-but with people too new to her, or someone like...Blake for instance; Lita hadn't the foggiest what was on their minds.

She laughed at being called 'some kind of weird,' and then let the amused look vanish as a more coquettish look graced her features-primarily the smile of her raspberry red colored lips. "Oh, no. I definitely like dancing." Again, something flirty, if he understood the double meaning behind that statement. If he didn't-he would get with her next statement. "**** off? Doesn't sound as...enjoyable as dancing with someone." Adelita rolled her shoulders slightly before looking around the club. "My name is Lita, by the way." She offered as her brown hues returned back to the individual in front of her. "We dancing, good looking or you going to go play by yourself?" Adelita offered a hand to the one and only person that seemed like they might be fun in this place, unlike all the bar flies and wall flowers.

[Adley Reed]

Lady, yes. It had been uttered due to a small amount of annoyance; but it was annoyance that soon passed. He figured this Lita was that breed of woman who said one thing and meant another; one who turned things around so it never appeared like she was doing the chasing, but instead that the man had chased her. He could imagine her spilling a drink on some man’s crotch and pretending it was the worst kind of accident, but really she’d done it because she wanted to see if she could figure out how big he was beneath his britches – or as a way to get him out of said pants.

That’s what Adley told himself, and thus the reason why his annoyance abated. She’d run into him on purpose. She’d acted coy on purpose. That slight disinterest had been a rouse to make Adley try harder. He forgave her the tactics only because when he lifted his fingers to run them idly down the bare skin of Lita’s arm, she didn’t react. Normally, a living woman would sigh, or yawn, or recoil in some way as her body reacted instinctively to that which would kill it. And yet, Lita did not wilt. Which meant that Lita was not living – not in the same way that humans did. Which meant that they could dance, and she would not collapse from exhaustion. And, perhaps, if she liked him well enough, she would allow him to bite her.

Of course she was going to like him well enough.

”Adley,” he said. Introductions were made. That was one social obligation out of the way. ”We’re dancing,” he said, the trail of his fingers grasping at her hand, tugging just enough, pulling himself up to his full height to gain the momentum to spin Lita. He pulled her into the throng of the writhing, dancing crowd, their cool bodies delving into the heat. That was the allure of these places, these nights – the heat, the life of it. He danced, hips grinding against Lita’s – this woman he had never met. But this was a jungle, and they were but two creatures within it.

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

There was something so alluring and so...sexy about a commanding male, even if Adelita would never say such a thing so openly or in public. Lita appreciated someone who knew what they wanted-no games, no beating around the bush. He wants to dance? Great, so did she? Why else would she come here, if not to dance? You want to screw? More than likely so did she. Abrupt, open honesty always went further with the woman than a game of cat and mouse. That usually turned into her playing the same game back, until she got bored and then moved on to someone-or something new.

"So we are." Adelita admitted with a small laugh as he spun her and then pulled her against him, their bodies meshing together in perfect unison as Adley more or less took the lead with his dancing preference. Which was tight, and slightly sexual as he pressed his hips into her. Did Adelita mind? Not a single bit. A scene like this, even among strangers was pretty typical at a dance club-so while some people might find this scene completely erotic, to Adelita, it was quite normal for her. Even tame, perhaps. Curious as to how far he would go and how comfortable he would be with the woman in his proximity-in any direction she faced.

When Adelita had a chance, she would spin away from Adley and attempt to not look so desperate, as if he were the only fish in the sea of men dancing here. No one liked a desperate person-they didn't keep the attention of anyone for longer than a few seconds. With her back to him at the first chance she got, Adelita would drape an arm loosely around the back of his neck, her palm resting on Adley's shoulder blade while the woman lowered her stance just a little, so that she could bend her knees just right so she fit perfectly between both his legs. Bold? It was, but there was no other way in Lita's mind to dance. Not to a song like this.

Slowly, the Mexican woman rubbed her butt against him in a slow circular motion in cooperation with the beat of the song playing in the club. While one hand made itself comfortable on him, the other found comfort in her hair, or on her thigh every so often as Lita gyrated against Adley. Finally, the woman would return to the position he had her in, the only difference was that this time, her fingers came to wrap around Adley's belt loops as the Mexican woman continued to nestle herself against his moving body, until the song ended and on came a slightly slower paced song. "Still dancing, handsome." Three words to let him know she wasn't done with him yet. Not when he was the best looking eye candy in here and one of the best dancers as well, from what Adelita could see every few minutes or so as her eyes drifted from him; from them, to others in the club.

Being a confident woman and dancer, the tempo of the song didn't dissuade the woman to stop dancing. Quite the opposite. Adelita snuck in closer to Adley and wrapped both arms around his neck as a leg came to rest between one of his, the woman's body stroking against the thigh of his leg, and his chest.

[Adley Reed]

If Adelita was trying to use her body to her advantage, it was working. Lithe and toned in all the right ways, she was as smooth as a big cat smooching for love – and probably just as dangerous, too. The difference between her and the rest of the club, however, was that he could touch her. When she gyrated so seductively against his body, his hands were free to slide down her arms and over her hips. His lips were free to hover by her ear, his breath against her shoulder and neck. The way she moved, he could imagine just how skilled she would be in the bedroom.

And yet, Adley matched her move for move. He was not just a platform for her to use her moves on; he moved with her, encouraging the bump and grind of their hips but in a subtle way, not in a way that screamed pervert or creep. He kept his hands to himself as much as he allowed them to explore; his feet moved and his body swayed with the rhythm of the music pounding through his body. The club was so packed that as they danced, they couldn’t help but brush up against their inferior human contemporaries; with all the second-hand sweat smeared over his arms and pressed into his back, Adley felt like he could have been one of them.

Except for the fact that Adelita’s neck was bared to him; a smooth curve that could have been coated in honey and cinnamon, given how delicious it looked. And yet, Adley had learned his lesson. Do not bite without asking. And even when asking, make sure that the yes was a certainty, rather than an obligatory maybe.

As she turned to face him, the music slowed and a little quieter, he leaned down to brush his lips against her ear. He first sucked in the scent of her, eyes rolling and closing as he asked his contentious question – and yet he voiced it with such confidence, regardless of how tentative he ought to be. Too soon? Maybe. But it was best to throw one’s cards out on the table. He’d come here for a reason, and though he’d enjoy going home with this woman, he was hungry. He wouldn’t go, if she said no. He’d have to find someone else.

”Now that I know you’re one of my kind,” he purred. ”How do you feel about… biting? he asked. He leaned back just enough to peer at the stranger’s expression, gauging her reaction. Even as he did so, the back of his knuckles brushed lightly over the smooth curve of her neck; an indication that he was referring to her being bitten, rather than doing the biting.