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Fx Any ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ท'๐“ฝ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“พ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ ใ€Œ โฆ แด€ษด แดสŸแด… ๊œฑสœแด€ษดษขสœแด€ษช ๊œฑแด‡แด€ส€แด„สœ ใ€

starshine

โ€งโ‚Šหšโœฉๅฝก
Joined
Jan 24, 2023

rtblurb.png
โ€‡
status : open
time zone : est
replies : 3rd person, 300-2k words
locations : pm > threads
fc/visuals : real, art, description


ยป [Paris of the East] ยซ
0:00 ใ€‡โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ 1:23
โ†บ |โ— II โ–ท| โ™ก


a letter arrives for you with a train ticket. the faint fragrance of jasmine and tuberose clings to the paper. nostalgic melodies play on a gramophone. faded photographs beckon to lost love and sugar-spun promises. while flashing marquee lights and jazz-fueled revelry spill onto bustling streets beckon to debauchery and ambitions chased in seedy shadows.

as you board the train tonight, what story will our characters weave?


โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
โ”‚
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rtsideb.png

  • rtsidea.png
    dear reader, this is an invitation to step into the past with me โ™ก. into an era of glimmering appeal and shadowed intrigue. i've been enjoying stories and such centered in republican era china (1910s to 40s) lately. in particular, old shanghai has a charm that's just so captivating to me. full of metropolitan glamor, an underlying air of eroticism and corruption, and a complex mingling of people harboring different motives. a unique blend of eastern and western, traditional chinese and rising 'modernity' in various aspects of the culture. tbh, i could go on swooning (especially over fashion, music, and bittersweet romances โ™ก). but for brevity's sake, i won't

    in short, i hope to write our own vintage tale. whether it be of the wholesomely heart-fluttering or darkly heart-pounding variety, many flavors of romance are delectable to me. if this feels like something you might be interested in, then please continue reading!


  • rta.png
    white rose, red rose. a dutiful housewife gradually senses something amiss with her husband. late work hours, clumsily crafted lies, and the scent of tobacco and an unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. she seems to be losing him to the thrall of cabarets. one night, she decides to tail him to the establishment and in the process, finds herself enchanted by one of the performers. an unexpected and forbidden romance blossoms in the withered petals of another. (f// only pls)

    tuberose. a young woman indebted to another, attempts to use the cover of a banquet at a triad leader's manor to carry out a spy mission for a rival. however, the boss might already be wise to her.

    the love you can't get. a former spy or triad member attempts to start life anew under the veneer of a modest, good man. but he grapples with the shadows of his past when becoming interested in a legitimately honest and good girl, and she unwittingly becomes involved in something she shouldn't.

    serendipity. two travelers meet by chance and quickly hit it off. they decide to take in the many splendors of the city and bask in one anothers' company during their stay. perhaps one is visiting briefly for pleasure and the other, a struggling musician looking to catch their big break. at least, that is who they are on the surface. in reality, their reasons for being there may have more to do with one another than they ever dreamed possible.

    the moon brings you my longing. an officer has some extended time off after a recent incident and decides to do some light traveling, where he then reunites with a former lover. as time passed, some things have undoubtedly changed, but certain feelings remain the same.

    unforgettable shanghai nights. a down on her luck performer at a jazz club becomes tangled up with a handsome spendthrift who possesses a love of gambling, women, and living life on the edge. a tumultuous romance ensues that can shake up the very foundation of the city, or at least, their lives.

    ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท ๊•ฅ ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท​

    details aren't set in stone. plot hooks are intentionally left brief and vague to allow creative input from a partner. โ™ก i may have some additional ideas cooking for the above, but i'd love to craft something we both enjoy and have a hand in. none of these suit your fancy? i'm open to other plots. below is a wordbank and some images for additional inspiration and the general vibes of what i'm looking for.

  • rt3c.png
    not familiar with this era/setting? no problem c: i prefer allowing some flexibility in historical settings anyway. i'm perfectly cool with playing in a fictional city that features the general aesthetic and vibes of these time periods (and in some cases, this is preferred so we can tweak and world-build as we please). while i have the highest muse for a chinese character/story, i can also possibly write in other jazz era settings if tempted enough. i've done rps based around nyc and paris in the 1920s, for example, so you can ask.

    ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท ๊•ฅ ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท​

    ONS: playing against dominants or switches, size differences, teasing both physically and verbally, foreplay, aftercare, lovemaking, consent, playing with simmering tensions as they inevitably boil over, sensuality and seduction, dubcon, power dynamics, obsession, possessiveness, rough sex, exhibition risks, mild breath play, restraints, bloodplay.

    OFFS: first person used ic, raceplay, male subs, explicit abuse/torture, unrealistic body proportions, most extreme and unhygienic kinks.




  • 5087f84c03a9adf7334dcde4c41bbe86.jpg
    secrets | duality and contrasts whether in physicality, demeanor, social class, or ideals | love and lust sometimes being two sides of the same coin | revenge | espionage | forced proximity or cooperation | crime | corruption | triads | organization and political power struggles | hopefulness contending with harsh reality | twists of fate | family drama | friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | found family | second chance romances | arranged marriage | fake relationships | somewhat innocent or naive characters | characters that can weaponize their charms | morally grey characters | supernatural themes | reworked myths or fairy tales | slice of life moments, especially if they allow for tenderness or levity between more dramatic scenes | modest shops and residences tucked along hanging lantern-adorned streets | discretely operated businesses | vibrant dance halls and cabarets playing host to endless temptations, secrets, or dreams | operas and movie theaters | quaint western-styled cafes where sunlight pours in through stained-glass windows | traditional chinese teahouses | decadent gardens | secret meetings along a bridge overlooking the river | pedicabs and trolleys


  • rtaesth.png
    (nothing explicitly nsfw, but some suggestive themes may be present)

    realistic couple inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive. ๊•ฅsix. ๊•ฅseven. ๊•ฅeight.
    realistic scenery inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive.

    art couple inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive. ๊•ฅsix. ๊•ฅseven. ๊•ฅeight. ๊•ฅnine. ๊•ฅten.
    art scenery inspo: ๊•ฅone.


  • rtsamps.png
    To become fully immersed in a character often felt like a great deception of oneself. Meiling could place herself into a role, carrying the character's emotions earnestly and feeling as if another actor was truly her beloved for the two hours they graced the stage together. All with a thin veil that separated fiction from reality. Yet, the way her heart responded to Xu Mo tenderly tucking back a curl then felt a little too genuine.

    Perhaps her companion could make a fitting actor as well, a sense of purpose seeming to unfold over him. Concerned smile and tenderness receded into the alley's shadows, Xu Mo encased in a layer of ice befitting a vampire's body temperature once they stepped foot into the gambling den. She surveyed the spacious area and resisted the urge to purse her lips in distaste at some of the crude conversations overheard.

    It didn't take long for them to be drawn into one of the tables. The blood in the vials smelled of saccharine temptation. Of unspoken promises of fulfillment. But repulsive to the one who had been made aware of its truth. Meiling's gaze lingered on them long enough that the man misinterpreted an interest and she'd been spared from uttering a polite refusal thanks to Xu Mo's swiftness. Delicately, she took a seat alongside him.

    More than one game was being played here and Meiling was admittedly not good with either of them. She remained at his side as nothing more than a pretty adornment on Xu Mo's arm. A porcelain doll with an impassive expression. Until that was no longer passable according to the burning stare resting on her and the pressing questions of his opponent.

    "Who are you? Why are you with him, here of all places? Surely you know this isn't a good date spot, missy." The man and the woman at the mahjong table gave off a lackadaisical demeanor, as if only looking to kill time and push product. The grisly scar marring his features and the lidded but equally calculating stare from his female companion told her otherwise. They were not to be trifled with.

    It was easy to go off of a director's vision, but...what would appease this audience of two and help Xu Mo? Observing the dealers and recalling the revenge he spoke of earlier, she felt she may have had an answer. Beneath the table, her trembling hand calmed at Xu Mo's touch. Overturning her palm, she laced her fingers with his in assurance she'd be okay.

    Humans and vampires alike were drawn into tales of tragedy or intrigue.

    "Can't I be here?" She finally spoke, peeling her cheek off her partner's shoulder to watch him move another tile. Limpid blue eyes finally flickered with emotion since arriving. "No one can remain the same, after all." Sticking out like a sore thumb, what appeared to be a respectable girl instead tried to present herself as one adjusting to the shifting tides of a vampire's life. "I am no one of note. At least...not anymore." Her lashes fluttered slowly, a despondent air settling over her. The clack of tiles continued along with the match the men played. "A peasant girl who lived passionately and loved passionately. It seems one was a bit too taken with the performance, wishing me to reprise that role endlessly. Where Giselle was able to rest in peace in the final act, I was made to live on."

    Every gesture should bring meaning. In ballet one must speak with their eyes, their hands, a turn of the head. To tell a story in the way they moved. Meiling's subtle gestures as she spoke were languid. Sorrowful. Embittered. "What I once loved has been thoroughly tainted. Because if I ever dance again, I'll be entertaining his wishes."

    'May you dance forevermore.' Recalling the message on the card, a look of genuine disgust unfolded across her countenance as she swallowed, clenching the silken fabric of her skirt. "Who would be satisfied being handed a role they didn't audition for?" Sensing the cold pride emanating from the woman who was clearly a higher-ranked vampire, she added, "And such a subpar role." Meiling sighed, sounding as if she were also vexed over being attacked by a middle rank vampire, marking her in a weaker class.

    Momentary flared emotions drifted away like blown smoke, settling against Xu Mo once more as a doleful ghost. His warm grassy scent helping to overpower the cloying blood supply nearby. She gazed upon his profile with great fondness. As if he were the only saving grace in a damned, eternal night. In a sense, that wasn't an act. She hugged his arm and subtly hooked her leg over the front of Xu Mo's calf. A rising little lift caressed him intimately and slightly shifted the cheongsam's slit so that if his palm again settled along the perch of her thigh, she'd feel his warmth most keenly. What appeared to be a clingy, affectionate gesture served another purpose as she lingered there.

    "Does that satisfy your curiosity? If so," Meiling inclined her head, chin resting upon his shoulder and eyes flashing red as they slid over to the woman, "I'd appreciate it if you put away whatever it is you have aimed at him." Her gaze lowered pointedly to the table's surface, indicating the woman's unseen hand that was below presumably holding a weapon of some kind or a needle, only detecting a faintly cold metallic smell.

    Xiaoying expected he would somehow see through the nice dress and accessories her aunt sent for her to travel in. That beneath it all she truly was a country bumpkin masquerading as a fine lady. A clumsy country bumpkin at that.

    But no rebuke came. As she steeled herself for harsh demands that she be responsible for the dry cleaning bill, what instead followed was...

    Laughter.

    Brief but rich in texture. So much so, she wished he didn't stifle it so she might bask in its warmth for a little longer.

    Astonished, the woman slowly lifted her head. Tensed shoulders grew lax and she blinked up at him owlishly as he assured her the stain was a small inconvenience at best. Having noted her struggle, he instead offered his handkerchief. Xiaoying certainly didn't need it, yet she found herself reflexively reaching for it just the same. As her hand connected with the soft fabric, she felt herself slipping into the amber-bright flecks within his eyes - mostly concealed in the evening's darkness except for when a wash of passing headlights or building sign lights swept over Shinchi to highlight how striking he was.

    Xiaoying didn't move. As if held into place by his gaze alone. Neither did her hand move. Fingertips lingered precariously to the heat of his own, unwilling to pull the handkerchief out of his grasp and that shared space unless he were to let go of it first. It was then he extended a most peculiar invitation like a hidden secret.

    "I'd like to see you again. I've...heard that Shanghai has a wonderful music scene, perhaps we could...go together?"

    There was a tiny voice of alarm. Those lectures from her relatives in how she should be mindful and avoidant of the Japanese as much as possible. Lectures that were quickly drowned out by the roar of her pulse in that moment. By the exciting premise of experiencing Shanghai's glimmering facets.

    "-I won't bother you further, Miss." Perhaps he took her deer-in-headlights pause for hesitation, or even the struggle to find a way to let him off gently. But in the next instant, any thoughts of his might've been kicked to the wayside by the sudden clench of the handkerchief in Xiaoying's grip and by her taking a step closer.

    "Oh, indeed." Her voice, initially tiny, contrasted with the bright stars practically glittering in her gaze. "I heard how this city has given birth to many singing sensations and how the jazz clubs and dance halls are alive well into the midnight hours. I can only imagine what it must be like to experience it in person!" That once demurely quiet girl now positively bubbled with excitement, speaking quickly and breathlessly. Something she eventually caught onto and corrected by taking a measured step back. ...She definitely sounded like a country bumpkin. "Ahem, I mean, I would very much like to experience it together." Color assailed her cheeks as she softly tacked on, "And to see you again, Mr. Saito."

    Xiaoying withdrew a small silver tube from her handbag and crouched down alongside her luggage. "You can contact me here." Using its surface, she smoothed out Shinchi's handkerchief. Her lipstick was used to clearly write out the phone number to her new residence for the unforeseeable future at Uncle's hotel.

 
status: open
time zone: est
replies: 3rd person, 300-2k words
locations: pm > threads
fc/visuals: real, art, description


ยป [Paris of the East] ยซ
0:00 ใ€‡โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ 1:23
โ†บ |โ— II โ–ท| โ™ก


a letter arrives for you with a train ticket. the faint fragrance of jasmine and tuberose clings to the paper. nostalgic melodies play on a gramophone. faded photographs beckon to lost love and sugar-spun promises. while flashing marquee lights and jazz-fueled revelry spill onto bustling streets beckon to debauchery and ambitions chased in seedy shadows.

as you board the train tonight, what story will our characters weave?


XXxxxXXxxX๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝXXxxXXX

dear reader, this is an invitation to step into the past with me โ™ก. into an era of glimmering appeal and shadowed intrigue. i've been enjoying stories and such centered in republican era china (1910s to 40s) lately. in particular, old shanghai has a charm that's just so captivating to me. full of metropolitan glamor, an underlying air of eroticism and corruption, and a complex mingling of people harboring different motives. a unique blend of eastern and western, traditional chinese and rising 'modernity' in various aspects of the culture. tbh, i could go on swooning (especially over fashion, music, and bittersweet romances โ™ก). but for brevity's sake, i won't

in short, i hope to write our own vintage tale. whether it be of the wholesomely heart-fluttering or darkly heart-pounding variety, many flavors of romance are delectable to me. if this feels like something you might be interested in, then please continue reading!


XXXxxxxxXX๐“ฒ๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ผXXXXX

white rose, red rose. a dutiful housewife gradually senses something amiss with her husband. late work hours, clumsily crafted lies, and the scent of tobacco and an unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. she seems to be losing him to the thrall of cabarets. one night, she decides to tail him to the establishment and in the process, finds herself enchanted by one of the performers. an unexpected and forbidden romance blossoms in the withered petals of another. (f// only pls)

tuberose. a young woman indebted to another, attempts to use the cover of a banquet at a triad leader's manor to carry out a spy mission for a rival. however, the boss might already be wise to her.

the love you can't get. a former spy or triad member attempts to start life anew under the veneer of a modest, good man. but he grapples with the shadows of his past when becoming interested in a legitimately honest and good girl, and she unwittingly becomes involved in something she shouldn't.

serendipity. two travelers meet by chance and quickly hit it off. they decide to take in the many splendors of the city and bask in one anothers' company during their stay. perhaps one is visiting briefly for pleasure and the other, a struggling musician looking to catch their big break. at least, that is who they are on the surface. in reality, their reasons for being there may have more to do with one another than they ever dreamed possible.

the moon brings you my longing. an officer has some extended time off after a recent incident and decides to do some light traveling, where he then reunites with a former lover. as time passed, some things have undoubtedly changed, but certain feelings remain the same.

unforgettable shanghai nights. a down on her luck performer at a jazz club becomes tangled up with a handsome spendthrift who possesses a love of gambling, women, and living life on the edge. a tumultuous romance ensues that can shake up the very foundation of the city, or at least, their lives.


ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท ๊•ฅ ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท

details aren't set in stone. plot hooks are intentionally left brief and vague to allow creative input from a partner. โ™ก i may have some additional ideas cooking for the above, but i'd love to craft something we both enjoy and have a hand in. none of these suit your fancy? i'm open to other plots. below is a wordbank and some images for additional inspiration and the general vibes of what i'm looking for.

XXxxxxXxxxXX๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“ณ๐“ช๐”ƒ๐”ƒXXXXxxX

not familiar with this era/setting? no problem c: i prefer allowing some flexibility in historical settings anyway. i'm perfectly cool with playing in a fictional city that features the general aesthetic and vibes of these time periods (and in some cases, this is preferred so we can tweak and world-build as we please). while i have the highest muse for a chinese character/story, i can also possibly write in other jazz era settings if tempted enough. i've done rps based around nyc and paris in the 1920s, for example, so you can ask.

ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท ๊•ฅ ยท โ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆโ”ˆ ยท

ONS: playing against dominants or switches, size differences, teasing both physically and verbally, foreplay, aftercare, lovemaking, consent, playing with simmering tensions as they inevitably boil over, sensuality and seduction, dubcon, power dynamics, obsession, possessiveness, rough sex, exhibition risks, mild breath play, restraints, bloodplay.

OFFS: first person used ic, raceplay, male subs, explicit abuse/torture, unrealistic body proportions, most extreme and unhygienic kinks.


XXxxxXXxxX๐”€๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ญ๐“ซ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ดXXxxXXX

secrets | duality and contrasts whether in physicality, demeanor, social class, or ideals | love and lust sometimes being two sides of the same coin | revenge | espionage | forced proximity or cooperation | crime | corruption | triads | organization and political power struggles | hopefulness contending with harsh reality | twists of fate | family drama | friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | found family | second chance romances | arranged marriage | fake relationships | somewhat innocent or naive characters | characters that can weaponize their charms | morally grey characters | supernatural themes | reworked myths or fairy tales | slice of life moments, especially if they allow for tenderness or levity between more dramatic scenes | modest shops and residences tucked along hanging lantern-adorned streets | discretely operated businesses | vibrant dance halls and cabarets playing host to endless temptations, secrets, or dreams | operas and movie theaters | quaint western-styled cafes where sunlight pours in through stained-glass windows | traditional chinese teahouses | decadent gardens | secret meetings along a bridge overlooking the river | pedicabs and trolleys

XXXxxxxxXX๐“ช๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“ผXXXXX

(nothing explicitly nsfw, but some suggestive themes may be present)

realistic couple inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive. ๊•ฅsix. ๊•ฅseven. ๊•ฅeight.
realistic scenery inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive.

art couple inspo: ๊•ฅone. ๊•ฅtwo. ๊•ฅthree. ๊•ฅfour. ๊•ฅfive. ๊•ฅsix. ๊•ฅseven. ๊•ฅeight. ๊•ฅnine. ๊•ฅten.
art scenery inspo: ๊•ฅone.


XXxxxxXxxxXX๐“ผ๐“ช๐“ถ๐“น๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ผXXXXxxX

To become fully immersed in a character often felt like a great deception of oneself. Meiling could place herself into a role, carrying the character's emotions earnestly and feeling as if another actor was truly her beloved for the two hours they graced the stage together. All with a thin veil that separated fiction from reality. Yet, the way her heart responded to Xu Mo tenderly tucking back a curl then felt a little too genuine.

Perhaps her companion could make a fitting actor as well, a sense of purpose seeming to unfold over him. Concerned smile and tenderness receded into the alley's shadows, Xu Mo encased in a layer of ice befitting a vampire's body temperature once they stepped foot into the gambling den. She surveyed the spacious area and resisted the urge to purse her lips in distaste at some of the crude conversations overheard.

It didn't take long for them to be drawn into one of the tables. The blood in the vials smelled of saccharine temptation. Of unspoken promises of fulfillment. But repulsive to the one who had been made aware of its truth. Meiling's gaze lingered on them long enough that the man misinterpreted an interest and she'd been spared from uttering a polite refusal thanks to Xu Mo's swiftness. Delicately, she took a seat alongside him.

More than one game was being played here and Meiling was admittedly not good with either of them. She remained at his side as nothing more than a pretty adornment on Xu Mo's arm. A porcelain doll with an impassive expression. Until that was no longer passable according to the burning stare resting on her and the pressing questions of his opponent.

"Who are you? Why are you with him, here of all places? Surely you know this isn't a good date spot, missy." The man and the woman at the mahjong table gave off a lackadaisical demeanor, as if only looking to kill time and push product. The grisly scar marring his features and the lidded but equally calculating stare from his female companion told her otherwise. They were not to be trifled with.

It was easy to go off of a director's vision, but...what would appease this audience of two and help Xu Mo? Observing the dealers and recalling the revenge he spoke of earlier, she felt she may have had an answer. Beneath the table, her trembling hand calmed at Xu Mo's touch. Overturning her palm, she laced her fingers with his in assurance she'd be okay.

Humans and vampires alike were drawn into tales of tragedy or intrigue.

"Can't I be here?" She finally spoke, peeling her cheek off her partner's shoulder to watch him move another tile. Limpid blue eyes finally flickered with emotion since arriving. "No one can remain the same, after all." Sticking out like a sore thumb, what appeared to be a respectable girl instead tried to present herself as one adjusting to the shifting tides of a vampire's life. "I am no one of note. At least...not anymore." Her lashes fluttered slowly, a despondent air settling over her. The clack of tiles continued along with the match the men played. "A peasant girl who lived passionately and loved passionately. It seems one was a bit too taken with the performance, wishing me to reprise that role endlessly. Where Giselle was able to rest in peace in the final act, I was made to live on."

Every gesture should bring meaning. In ballet one must speak with their eyes, their hands, a turn of the head. To tell a story in the way they moved. Meiling's subtle gestures as she spoke were languid. Sorrowful. Embittered. "What I once loved has been thoroughly tainted. Because if I ever dance again, I'll be entertaining his wishes."

'May you dance forevermore.' Recalling the message on the card, a look of genuine disgust unfolded across her countenance as she swallowed, clenching the silken fabric of her skirt. "Who would be satisfied being handed a role they didn't audition for?" Sensing the cold pride emanating from the woman who was clearly a higher-ranked vampire, she added, "And such a subpar role." Meiling sighed, sounding as if she were also vexed over being attacked by a middle rank vampire, marking her in a weaker class.

Momentary flared emotions drifted away like blown smoke, settling against Xu Mo once more as a doleful ghost. His warm grassy scent helping to overpower the cloying blood supply nearby. She gazed upon his profile with great fondness. As if he were the only saving grace in a damned, eternal night. In a sense, that wasn't an act. She hugged his arm and subtly hooked her leg over the front of Xu Mo's calf. A rising little lift caressed him intimately and slightly shifted the cheongsam's slit so that if his palm again settled along the perch of her thigh, she'd feel his warmth most keenly. What appeared to be a clingy, affectionate gesture served another purpose as she lingered there.

"Does that satisfy your curiosity? If so," Meiling inclined her head, chin resting upon his shoulder and eyes flashing red as they slid over to the woman, "I'd appreciate it if you put away whatever it is you have aimed at him." Her gaze lowered pointedly to the table's surface, indicating the woman's unseen hand that was below presumably holding a weapon of some kind or a needle, only detecting a faintly cold metallic smell.

Xiaoying expected he would somehow see through the nice dress and accessories her aunt sent for her to travel in. That beneath it all she truly was a country bumpkin masquerading as a fine lady. A clumsy country bumpkin at that.

But no rebuke came. As she steeled herself for harsh demands that she be responsible for the dry cleaning bill, what instead followed was...

Laughter.

Brief but rich in texture. So much so, she wished he didn't stifle it so she might bask in its warmth for a little longer.

Astonished, the woman slowly lifted her head. Tensed shoulders grew lax and she blinked up at him owlishly as he assured her the stain was a small inconvenience at best. Having noted her struggle, he instead offered his handkerchief. Xiaoying certainly didn't need it, yet she found herself reflexively reaching for it just the same. As her hand connected with the soft fabric, she felt herself slipping into the amber-bright flecks within his eyes - mostly concealed in the evening's darkness except for when a wash of passing headlights or building sign lights swept over Shinchi to highlight how striking he was.

Xiaoying didn't move. As if held into place by his gaze alone. Neither did her hand move. Fingertips lingered precariously to the heat of his own, unwilling to pull the handkerchief out of his grasp and that shared space unless he were to let go of it first. It was then he extended a most peculiar invitation like a hidden secret.

"I'd like to see you again. I've...heard that Shanghai has a wonderful music scene, perhaps we could...go together?"

There was a tiny voice of alarm. Those lectures from her relatives in how she should be mindful and avoidant of the Japanese as much as possible. Lectures that were quickly drowned out by the roar of her pulse in that moment. By the exciting premise of experiencing Shanghai's glimmering facets.

"-I won't bother you further, Miss." Perhaps he took her deer-in-headlights pause for hesitation, or even the struggle to find a way to let him off gently. But in the next instant, any thoughts of his might've been kicked to the wayside by the sudden clench of the handkerchief in Xiaoying's grip and by her taking a step closer.

"Oh, indeed." Her voice, initially tiny, contrasted with the bright stars practically glittering in her gaze. "I heard how this city has given birth to many singing sensations and how the jazz clubs and dance halls are alive well into the midnight hours. I can only imagine what it must be like to experience it in person!" That once demurely quiet girl now positively bubbled with excitement, speaking quickly and breathlessly. Something she eventually caught onto and corrected by taking a measured step back. ...She definitely sounded like a country bumpkin. "Ahem, I mean, I would very much like to experience it together." Color assailed her cheeks as she softly tacked on, "And to see you again, Mr. Saito."

Xiaoying withdrew a small silver tube from her handbag and crouched down alongside her luggage. "You can contact me here." Using its surface, she smoothed out Shinchi's handkerchief. Her lipstick was used to clearly write out the phone number to her new residence for the unforeseeable future at Uncle's hotel.

๐’ƒ๐’–๐’Ž๐’‘!

and a gentle reminder that an interest message with some substance (i.e. telling me a bit about yourself as a writer, likes/dislikes, a readiness to discuss plot or character ideas) is most appreciated < 3
 
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