Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shaitan observed the twin tailed female with casual interest. Once she had selected her drink, he topped off his cinnamon whiskey glass with the decanter on the tray. With an amused smile he shifted slightly in his seat. "Greetings, Childe," he grumbled out quietly, his voice thick with an accent that was hard to place, possibly German or Lithuanian. "Is this your first visit to the manse?" His gaze flickered over the room as he took a visual stock of those present. There were many powerful vampires here, all the way from Grendel to his disciples. Nobody was stupid enough to try to instigate anything, but Shaitan did feel the tug of the desire to settle old wars as Zalaam passed by his field of vision. Shaking his head to clear thoughts, he returned his eyes to the green haired Kynthia. "I am Shaitan. Whose presence am I blessed with this evening?"

The Mansion was barely in sight and already Nicolo was ready to say his goodbyes for the night, thank the host for a lovely evening and just go. But that would hardly stop the comments on how he needed to go out and 'be seen' more.. Yeah remind him again how that works with this being a Masquerade. But to be fair to them, he would be easy to spot for those who know him, he was just in one of his normal suits, all of his suits are amazing, no need for a special one for tonight and his mask.. Well its a mask, no one ever said it had to be an amazing one.. Just had to withstand the cheap string digging and ripping at his hair till he's companion was ready to go.. Hopefully that wouldn't be long.





A deep sigh is heard in the foyer as Andy,who was wearing a much flashier suit then his normal work attire, fussed with the ribbons keeping his mask in place "Just saying, they covered my eyes, the go around my ears, how is that not a mask." he pouted as he finally tied the loose knot into a more secure one "Ok got it, no worries, we can head back in now." He smiled over to his date, for as much as the mask bugged him it was a small price to pay to be here with him.

Oh, it was definitely cheating. But in all the best ways. The flash of vivid imagery in his mind, a scene he so often was gifted the experience off. One that lived rent free within the confines of his mind and sent a fire blazing through his undead heart. Ravnos knew that image well, knew that body very well. Sucking in a sharp breath as that wave of lust crashed upon him and his own core felt molten at the sensation. Hot, heated, the desire thrumming through him with such intensity it might have sucked the very breath from his lungs if he were one who still needed to draw breath.

But even with the deity’s cheating, over time, the Disciple had been able to learn how to turn it back upon him just as easily. Conversing between themselves in this fashion had become easier the more he had done it. The connection between their minds and hearts was strong, unbreakable. Sharing thoughts, images, desires within this space that was only just for them while the world outside their minds continued on none the wiser.

As those images continued to flash through his mind Ravnos drew up ones of his own. Letting them linger on the surface of his mind, casting a net as it were for the deity to stumble into. And once he did, once Grendel touched those thoughts he would receive his own vivid imagery of what exactly Ravnos was thinking in those moments. Letting him see what was promised for later in regards to those teasing thoughts.

The exasperated laugh brought a wide grin to his lips. Charming. Roguish as he brushed his lips against his knuckles one more time, green eyes gazing up at him with adoration. “Tell me you do not enjoy it and I will stop.” He chuckled as he repeated those words back to him, drawn into the deity’s grasp in one quick, fluid motion and the kiss to the corner of his mouth was sweet, tender, not quite what he so desired in that moment but there was no need to put on much of a show around others. Those moments were meant only for the two of them.

The grin never left his lips as he turned to head towards the bar that was serving the special drinks. Curiosity thrumming through him as he moved through the crowds, nodding occasionally to those he recognized. Spotting Syn not too far off he smiled. While she had gone off to join the Black Mother and her Phuri Dae, he still felt as if she were a friend to him. Some of the new bloodlines had issues with their parent clans but this animosity did not exist between the Ravnos and Phuri Dae, no. The Phuri Dae had always existed within the clan and even before their bloodline had been made official their talents were utilized by many baros a like. A Phuri Dae was special, cherished within their Kumpania. And Ravnos was happy they were finally getting the recognition that they so justly deserved.

Finally entering The Hart he made a straight beeline towards the bar. Flagging down a bartender and indicating his desire for one of their specialty drinks. It did not matter which to him, the ancient vampire was simply there for the experience. It didn’t take long for him to be handed a relatively unassuming drink. Though he knew for certain this one had a little extra kick to it. The deep red liquid swirling within the glass caught the dim light of the room. Lifting it to his lips, the fragrance was intoxicating with a dark, heady sweetness, a promise of something deeper, something…. more... visceral. Glancing at the deity for a moment he lifted the glass to his lips.The first sip hit his tongue like fire, a touch of cinnamon and warmth spread through his chest, then his veins, seeping into every fiber of his being. His glowing green eyes flickered, pupils dilating as the effects took root.

A low chuckle escaped him, not of amusement but of something darker, more primal. The sensation flowing through him, sharpening his awareness, honing his desires to a laser point. He leaned against the bar top slightly, feeling the confidence blooming inside him—each scent that reached his nose stronger, sharper. His gaze shifted, no longer the warm, amusement filled gaze of the Ravnos Disciple, but one of hunger. His lips curled into a slow, wicked grin, a predator's smile, his senses hyper-aware of every movement around him. Especially of the deity beside him.

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. Ravnos eyed Grendel with intensity, nostrils flaring slightly. “You know…” he murmured, his voice rich and velvety, accent thick as it laced his words, a hunger that went beyond mere desire. “You are so enticing. Something about you just drives me wild.” He shifted closer, his every motion slow, deliberate—each inch drawing him nearer, until his breath was warm against the Deity’s skin. He leaned in, as if to whisper a secret, crooking his finger slightly to draw the other close so that he might whisper into his ear.

“Tell me…” He purred, biting at his bottom lip, the hunger evident in his tone, “te-ai întrebat vreodată c** e să fii... devorat?”

Her dress (But fully black). Her mask (With gold accents).

Esther hummed softly as she ran her fingers along his arm. ”Perhaps we should enjoy some fun before your family, or my mother tries to engage us in politics?” She knew her mother was here somewhere, and before the night was through they would be expected to chat with the Toreador clanned female. She would be surprised if her mother didn't hound the two of them to join the clan by the end of the night.

Her eyes scanned the lavish manor, slightly intimidated by all the grandeur. ”I think the East wing might suit our tastes more. Wouldn’t you agree?” She looked up at her golden eyed mate, rather looking forward to a night of fun by his side. They had yet to have any time to really enjoy themselves, and this would be a nice change of pace.

Laz sensed her before he spotted her. Sio was gorgeous, but that was always the case. Sometimes he thought she was the most beautiful when she was deep in thought, doing her own research and solving mysteries from her own pursuits... but she was also stunning now. A dress that decorated her perfect form flawlessly, along with a mask to match. Also in black, though Lazarus was sure that wasn't a happy accident. He likely should have said something to her about coming here but truth be told, Lazarus was only here for as long as he had to be. He had had plans to leave as quickly as possible.

Had plans. Those plans went firmly out the nearest window as soon as Sio started speaking to him. One eyebrow rose sharply above as she greeted him as if he were a stranger. The corners of his lips twisted slightly before an actual smile creased his face. "Just waiting for the right company." His words were a murmur back to the darkly dressed woman. One hand lifted to gently lay against her waist before Lazarus continued to speak. Perhaps overly familiar for a "stranger" but when Sio was this close, it was difficult to keep his hands to himself.

"Perhaps the right company has found me." He leaned in a little more to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Unless you require something more than a little spark to keep your attention?" The party had simply melted away for Lazarus but he was someone who could easily focus down on one thing until someone (typically Sio) reminded him that he needed to walk away. Focusing on her instead of the party itself? A perfect way to pass his time until it was time to leave.

Gods, that smile alone could undo him. It was unbridled, pure, and a rarity to behold upon those expertly painted lips. It washed away doubt and filled the Methuselah with a joy mirrored within his honey gaze, drawn from him in this intimate moment they shared because of their mutual acknowledgement that what they wanted, perhaps more than their individual ambitions, was each other. All despite whatever complications such wanting might force them to face. That smile unburdened Mithras from any hesitation he had left, burning through the remnants of his suspicions or worries that this could all be false. If the words and feelings Armistice had expressed to him were untrue, then Mithras thought, not for the first time, that he deserved tremendous accolades for his incredibly adept deception. But he did not believe them false, and he did not believe that was only because of how badly he wanted it to be true.

He had waited so long for this, to feel something again, for his heart to feel alive again after shuttering it away, protecting it, and believing that his unlife would be all the better for it. All conflict eased away. All unsure feelings were set aside. A few words, some light touches, hungry looks, and one beautiful smile that made him want to melt right down to his shoes. That was all it took. All rational thought flew out the window. He needed this, needed him, no matter how steep the cost may be.

But not at the expense of exposing themselves in the middle of the VIP room, where any number of keen ears could be listening, or eyes could be watching. They had not used names…Mithras had been quite careful not to. The masks…well, there were dozens of vampires running around wearing similar to his own, so proving he was the one there, at that moment, would be difficult for anyone to do. Even eye-witness testimony could not be proven without reasonable doubt.

Speaking of witnesses…

He knew Constancia was there somewhere, though he had not caught sight of her while relaxing against the bar before his chance meeting with Armistice. She had been quite insistent in her communications with him of late and had even given him a warning, which he knew better than to ignore. But they had been allies for time immeasurable. If she was watching and knew anything about what was going on, he trusted her implicitly to keep it to herself. Other than her…nobody came to mind. Not any that he felt he could not handle, at least. His followers were loyal to a fault. His brothers…well, by Veddartha’s command, they could not directly harm each other, and that threat had seemed, for quite some time now, to keep an uneasy truce between the three (though Mithras knew better than to count either of them out, impetuous young wretches that they were).

That laugh sent a shiver of delight along his flesh, though perhaps that was more due to the press of lips against his ear, his eyelids fluttering until held half-lidded, teeth pulling in his bottom lip and keeping it there for a moment before releasing it. “Really? Me? I have always been so unassuming, though.” He joked dryly, knowing full well how full of s**t he was, but after a breath of a laugh, he nodded. “Alright then. I will find you in a moment.” He murmured before pulling away and returning to his drink, finishing it before motioning to the bartender to serve him another.

Watching Armistice as he walked away was perhaps the hardest part, now, though at least he enjoyed the view briefly before he turned away to accept his new drink. Twisting the glass stem between his fingers, he took a long sip. Then he turned around to watch, catching a glimmer of silver as Armistice left the VIP area, presumably heading toward the stairs and down to the corridor with its line of doors that Mithras had briefly glanced at. The Justicar had told him to wait a minute before following, and the Methuselah began to count down slowly in his mind, knowing that it would probably be wiser to allow more time to pass than a mere sixty seconds.

Moving away from the bar, he did not make his way toward the exit but instead around the room, smiling at strangers (or perhaps ‘friends’ in disguise), nodding and lifting his glass in salute to others. There was a creeping sensation of familiarity at one point, and while he wanted to turn his gaze sharply in that direction, he refrained, his lip curling back slightly from his teeth in annoyance. Was it Memphis or Maltheas? Without looking, if he had to guess, it would be the former. The latter was far more likely to be slumming it with the commoners than be found in a place where he might make his station known. Whatever. He put them both out of his mind, not in the mood to have his evening spoiled.

Enough time had passed. Five minutes or more. Mithras set his half-empty glass down at an unoccupied table, slipped a phone out of his pocket as if checking for messages, frowned, and slid it back in again before making his way with purposeful steps out of the lounge as if responding to something of great importance, a steely look in his eye, face set in a stern line. It was all a ruse, of course, to push through the throngs and be left unaccosted by anyone who thought to try and stop him. And if either of his brothers did happen to be watching, they might assume he’d left on urgent business.

The long row of corridors was a little daunting once he’d arrived. Of course, he had little idea which one the Justicar may have gone into. Presuming they locked from the inside, he checked each one, and a brief knock was given before he turned or attempted to turn each door handle.

Some were unlocked but not unoccupied. In most of these instances, his brief intrusion was ignored, though he was beckoned to join in on more than one occasion. Smirking, he simply shook his head and closed the doors.

Finally, he found the one he wanted, with amusement lingering in his gaze as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, hand moving to a latch and turning the lock with a resolute click.
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Claws abruptly stopped their tapping on the table, one claw scritching its way in a teeth-grinding manner as the pale vampire's lip curled back from her teeth, and then, just as suddenly, she sprung to her feet with the clatter of bones, her slender hands planting firmly against the tabletop. ”No” She hissed, head turning to the side as if speaking to someone next to her, though there was nothing but empty space, and then she shuddered, her head bowing, her shoulders drawing up, fingers flexing with nails biting into the wood.

The path was set. She knew now. But knowing only made her want to howl in agony or shriek until her throat burned, her eyes stinging with a knowledge of what was to come, the implications marching and biting along her skin like a million tiny fire ants. She had work to do, and a clock had begun ticking in her mind.

She’d been here before. History so loved to repeat itself.

Perhaps this time, she had learned enough. Maybe this time, she would do better.

With these thoughts held firmly in mind, she pushed herself away from the table, teeth clenched to keep herself from cursing, screaming, or doing anything to draw unwanted attention to herself.

There was so little time.

The Priestess of Bones seemed to fade into the shadows as she adjusted her garb, obscuring herself from sight, as she made her way quickly out.

Luceria could have been described at the moment as being of a wandering mind, her hands cupping around the stem of a red rose to carress its silk-like petals. Her pink eyes were serene as they took in every detail, capturing the image for a future painting she would make to honor this whimsical evening. When words filled her mind, she let out a long breath to keep her face composed - albeit it an afterthought when she remembered she was wearing a veiled mask so none would see her not-so-delicate expression trouble her face. It took her a moment to mentally verify that it was indeed Grendel who spoke to her and asked of her what she would do with her newfound power. A smile pulled at her lips.

Lord Grendel... That is an easy question. If not for you, my clan would still be hiding in the darkness, bitterly picking at the edges of a society that has never cared to acknowledge us... You have given us the ability to claw our way up into the light. Let our radiance be shared! I... We have so much to share with the other clans if only they will give us such a chance to do so!

She felt a thorn dig into her finger as she grasped the stem a little too tightly, breaking it from the bush. She sighed knowing that the flower would now wilt, cut off from its source of nourishment. So close to how her clan once had been, grasping in the dark for their art to be recognized and acknowledged.

As Grendel continued to speak, she sniffed the delicate rose, enriching herself with its beautiful aroma - before shock caused it to fall from her hands to the white snow. A bow of pure white hung suspended before her, momentarily surrounded by thick darkness before it faded. Even after all these years of un-living, she still found such things to be a shock, a beautifully unexpected one.

She reached out and grasped the finely crafted bow, testing the long bowstring and hearing a lovely twang meet her ears. She inspected the arrows next, finding them just as beautifully crafted as the bow they were certainly made for.

You honor me... I will use this gift to protect my kin and those who would do us harm will regret their transgressions. My my... I am rusty with a bow! She found herself laughing out loud at the mirthful thought and shuddered to imagine anyone witnessing her less-than-spectacular potential usage of such an artifact.