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Vampire Corpse Haven IV ~Bunny and Ducky~

L

Lieutenant Ducky

Star
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Titlepage.jpg


The House of Delostas​

Stories of the Past:

"Only a few hours ago did the Haven burn to the ground; its occupants running every which way with their belongings and most precious things. The cause of this disaster? The council set a flame to the old church because of its detest towards Mistress Kali; she had broken the rules once more, and the sought to revenge their traditions by the death of her haven; or by the death of her. My poor dear sister...We were sired by the same master you know? Well, I suppose you didn't...In any case those who knew my beloved sister watched from the outskirts of the church, watching the flames consume it. Kali had stayed inside, trying to cease the fire, but when the fire reached the wine everything would be lost. I've heard many stories of the happenings, but by far the most intriguing was that of the way they found her after the destruction. A mass of bones lay clasping a crystal cup...Kali always loved her wine... And so, now I, Makalyah have come to make a haven for those lost in the fire, for those without home or shelter, and most of all, for the memory of Kali..."


"Informed of the death of Makaylah I have asked the council to take action against this slayer whom calls himself, 'The Fist of God.' Not only did they scorn the idea for fear, but the lesser folk of the council had forbidden my interference. They had told me it was too dangerous. Not only for the presence of the slayer, but of another; one of our kind, known as Isetnofret; A very old and very dangerous Vampire. These were not the only threats of the journey; it was said that many other vampires not known by name infest the area. However, as the very distant Grandmother of Julian I decided it best to make my Journey. The death of my distant family shamed me; as an Ancient I have dealt with eternity by looking after my family line. Taking in hand my silver bow and quiver I placed my armor fittingly on my body as I prepared for the Journey. Patting my pet on the head; a dog, fittingly named Zeus as I strolled out of my confines taking only what I would need on my way there. Zeus nipping at me heels I strolled out into the daylight, I am Artemis, named after the Patron Goddess of the Hunt; I have seen wars and death; and the fall of Troy."


â??I suppose it wasn't my place. I never thought I would stay here so long, but I had promised Makaylah I would take care of the Manor, and so I have. Making friends within the nearby village I discovered they had quite a bit of wealth to their name. The husband and wife, being so generous offered me a sum of money to reconstruct the Manor. So I have, I intend to bring about a haven rather than a death chamber that the Manor has seemed to become. The death that lingers here still saddens me, but I will reverse the curse, making this a suitable Haven. I, Laetitia hope Artemis will not return, for she brought such havoc upon the house of Netrophs...In memory of Makaylah, Joyce, and little Neferys, this will be a honored Manor, and their memory will never dieâ?¦â?

â??That day was filled with tragedy. The day of blood and sharp words ended with the triumph of the council. Many fell to their blades while still otherâ??s fled. Artemis took flight while Laetitia and I stood and fought. Battered and broken we parted. Taking shelter on the road Laetitia entrusted me with the wings of the accursed building. So, taking my fill of wine and soothing lagoon I waited twenty years for her return so I could relinquish my guardianship. Twenty long years alone within the nest of dust, no sign of Artemis, the slayer or little Laetitia. Twenty long years alone, I Isetnofet have sat within walls bathed in bloodâ?¦â?

The Legacy continues in Paris, upon the lands of Delostas...​
 
Roaming streets both foreign and familiar is a lithe female, dark eyes scanning the land around her most curiously as she aims to take in what has changed and what remains the same. Of course, so much has changed. It has been nearly two millennium since she has walked these streets. The fact that a woman could roam these streets alone at night and not be the target of some wicked crime, or most cruel gossip is the most striking change. Of course, the same could be said for a large majority of the world now. Times change, people change, propriety change, and thank goddess for that.

The woman seems shrunken in on herself, easily over looked, despite her showy garb, tight leather pants and a tighter leather bustier. She walks slowly, as if with a limp, though there seems to be no physical hint of injury. Her hurt goes so much deeper than that, and perhaps it is this deep lying pain that has drawn her back home. Back to the streets she grew up in, looking for that spring that accompanied her for so much of her life, both living and vampiric. Perhaps she would rest for a while in the house of her family, that is, if it still stood. The archaic remnants would be a happy reminder of her doting mother, and dear siblings.

As she strolls along, she comes upon an establishment so full of life on an otherwise quiet street. Stepping into the pool of light cast out into the road by the welcoming windows, she confronted with an easily recognizable scene. A traditional, almost cliche tavern full of patrons and alcohol and beautiful French woman. Hoping to be infected by such merriment, the petite beauty turns on her heeled boot and strides confidently into the pub, flashing a dazzling smile at the bartender who glanced up at his most recent guest. As he nods his head in acknowledgment, she notices his eyes widen in surprise, and that only makes her smile more. His surprise, if not from her curves so entrapped in leather as they are, would be from the stark tattoo of ivy vines wrapped around her entire form from neck down, brought alive by the cold electric lights above.

Crossing the wooden floor with satisfying clicks, she seats herself at the corner of the bar, ordering a glass of red wine from the handsome barkeep. Once the lovely stemmed glass is set in front of her, she scans the people around her with a distant smile, that all but shatters at the sight of an all too familiar man, sitting at a table, a busty blond at his side. Resisting the urge to make a scene, she trembles at the sight of him, almost too shocked to believe it's truly whom she thinks it to be. "No, surely he wouldn't be here," Laetitia mutters to herself, ruby red lips struggling to form the words. Rising up out of her seat, she traverses the floor once more, heels sounding every step, unnaturally loud even to her sensitive hearing, until she's standing on the other side of the table. "Excuse me," she voices silently. She had to be certain that she was mistaken. Sure she'd look like a fool, and in that, she wouldn't stay long. But she had to be proven wrong. Vox wouldn't be found in her home town. Not after the stunt he pulled so many long years ago.
 
The chair creaked under the added weight of the woman. His head bent to taste her ivory collar bone, a giggle emitting like a sensual purr from her throat as his tongue darted around her skin. Even in public he was brazen, his arms wrapping around the woman's shoulders to tweak her nipples through her silken shirt. The tan of his skin suggested lower class, as it contrasted greatly with the cream of her garment. The blond woman's head tossed back in joy; the affection of the rake under her large bottom more than satisfying.

The round table was surrounded by woman all who seemed to be enjoying the show with not even a shameful blush. As if the scene was everyday. Dark, thick hair, tantalized his affection's skin. But, a presence settled over him, unfelt to the parties around him; his concentration broke. Lush eyelashes drifted upwards as green eyes scanned his surroundings. His lips continued to tickle his companion idly as his hands slid down to her ribs absently.

Deep emerald eyes connected with familiar chocolate. At first his expression remained stoic, his hands squeezing the flushed woman on his lap. All around him light filtered off the fanciful garments of the ladies who continued to chatter. He merely stared at her, perhaps in awe- but it was unlikely, for the female he was now gazing upon was forever engraved into his being. A woman he had ignored for thousands of years.

A dark eyebrow arched as he lifted his head, eyes remaining steady, as unruly waves of black fell over his forehead. Slowly, a wolfish grin appeared on his face, dimpling his cheek. A devious smile, one filled with sensual promise; promises that had made many women creamy under his scrutiny. Slowly the women who appeared so enraptured with him turned in curious jealousy to look upon who he had bestowed such a sought after expression. Pairs of eyes turned towards the french woman, widening slowly before narrowing together in human rage.

But, the man remained silent as he bent his head again towards the female sprawled over his thighs. The voluptuous woman blocked most of the man as she arched a bit- her eyes also narrowed on the woman across the tavern; a stranger... however, her attention was soon turned with flush enjoyment to the man under her again. A soft moan escaping her lips as she whispered his name, "Vox..."

His eyes darted up again as he pressed a smile into the woman's neck; his gaze venturing back to his past. There was an invitation in his eyes, though it was obvious he had little intent on moving as he caressed the woman, pressing her hips against his leather clad ones.

The women watched the stranger rise, envying her lithe form as she- with what seemed to be confidence strolled over to their table. The busty blond, who's hair was tumbling over Vox's shoulders opened glazed eyes. She seemed furious at the woman's gentle intrusion. The man chuckled a bit, rearranging himself as he soothed the woman on his lap, before setting her large form aside.

He wore a white linen shirt, rolled up over his forearms and loose fitting leather pants. His heavy boots shifted against the wooden floor as he reached out to the woman who had appeared. Much to the shock and distress of his company he wrapped an arm confidently around the small woman's waist, eyes traveling over her form yearningly. Vox, knowing he had the element of surprise, took the opportunity to trace the vines along the woman's collar bone to the tops of her breasts. "This is new..." he said huskily.
 

The display was vulgar at best, only the immature mind of a wanton lush could appreciate it, and that lush happened to be busty and lovely, full of life, on the lap of her sire. The one that had abandoned her in the throws of death, and left her to survive in a world so changed on her own. And the fact that he didn't even so much as breath her name when confronted with her, why the tiny woman was positively enraged. Of course, it was his daring, boldness that appealed to her so in her youth, the reasoning for her death and rebirth, if you could call it that. As his arm snaked around her, fingertips dancing over the sensitive flesh colored with black ink, she almost lets out a moan to rival the blond's. Almost. Instead, her temper flares up and a slap connects hard with the handsome man's cheek.

To the symphony of gasps that fly up around her, Laetitia jerks out of Vox's arm, the purple ribbon slipping from her hair in the motion, letting her dark locks tumble down around her pale, delicate face so passive in her rage. "You left me! You selfish ass, you left me to do what? Gallivant around with the entire female population?!" she demands, to the flurry of whispered gossip all around. Popular opinion was a crazy ex-girlfriend. Oh, if they only knew. Laetitia was not normally one given to fits of jealousy, but to see the love of her young life, that man she gave her life to willingly in such a display, surely she had some right to be a little pissed. It's not as if she'd be tempted to tear them limb from limb. Well, she was thinking about it for the blond. But the rest of them could go free, for tonight.

Almost as quickly as the anger comes, it leaves, and before Vox can say a word about the assault, she collapses against him. Her red lips find his pink ones in a passionate, hungry kiss, demanding reassurance, affection where she knows she'll be able to get it. In her youth, Vox could never say no to a woman, certainly not a woman in need, and even more so, never her in need. Once upon a time, he was her secret betrothed, and she knew that in his stare, those sentiments were not lost. Just wasted on a male so afraid of commitment. However Laetitia was not the same young girl, she had lived for so long on her own, and more so, she had learned much about loss and despair. If he abandoned her again, it was no loss, as long as she had this moment. As long as he gave her what she needed as she clung to his loose, linen shirt, her bust pressed hard against his chest, a hand lost in those familiar, ever soft locks.
 
Her skin was silken under his touch, heightening his senses. His fingers grazed over her reverently, passing over her in subtle gentleness as if her petite stature frightened him with its hidden fragility. Voxâ??s hands fell away from her as her hand rose. His emerald eyes caught fire, boring into her as her palm contacted with his finely etched cheekbone. Head whipping around, Vox attempted to swallow the growl that rumbled through his chest threateningly. An unsatisfying ache spread like molten fingertips under his skin, stinging his eyes as he turned his gaze towards her with deadly intent.

His company gave a started cry at the scene. The busty blond that he had brushed aside gave a shocked gasp, her blue eyes wide.. Never had a woman laid a hand upon the man with abusive intent. A shudder ran through the company as they watched Vox turn his gaze back upon the stranger, a venomous smile twisting his features. The women at the table, assorted in their appearance, slid form their seats, slipping away from what seemed to be an upcoming conflict. Even the busty blond, who had so jealously guarded the dark man stepped away, twirling apprehensively to another corner of the room to watch from the shadows.

A furry of angry words hurtled themselves towards Vox, his eyes darkening further. The sly dimple disappeared from the corner of his lips, leaving behind a tense line of rage. He began to growl a response before the woman, as if exhausted in her tantrum, collapsed. Voxâ??s arms, on instincts, wrapped around the tiny woman like steel. Bringing her against him as one would a child, he settled her across his warm lap, once occupied by the blond.

His breath hitched slightly as she pressed her pert breasts to his chest, locking his arms around her as she clung to him. The response he had to Laetitia was immediate as he bent to breath in the forgotten fragrance of her tresses. His head dipped towards her cheek, nuzzling her porcelain neck. Hiding his expression in the expanse of her neck, he murmured his comfort.

â??Laetitia, Iâ??ve been waiting for you for the last one hundred and forty seven years. My darling kitten; sweet flowerâ?¦â? he laved at her neck, his tongue gliding over the marks she bared possessively. Yes, he had run from his mistake and guilt for thousands of years, leaving behind his only dear possessionâ?¦ however, he had recently returned, hoping to find his woman waiting in the wings of the mansion. Much to his surprise, his beloved had fluttered away leaving behind a title and a large sum of money. He had taken to her house, claiming her name and wealth for his own.

For years he had dreamt of her return, ached for her eternally. Fearing the emptiness the accompanied his guilt he began turning towards his usual prey. Bringing them to rapture in the bed he had shared with Laetitia. As the thoughts rushed through his mind, Vox burrowed further into her hair, escaping any questing gaze. If she knew the hunger he felt; the need, the woman would wound him in vengeance. He knew well of a womanâ??s scorn. Bitterness clawed at his emotions, the muscles in his biceps bunching as his hold tightened.

â??Womanâ?¦â?? He growled, â??You werenâ??t here!â? he states, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as rejection seeped into his bones. Emotions cresting into rage he twisted her hair through his fingers, attempting to bind her further to him.
 
There were a few moments of intense satisfaction, to see the anger mare his handsome face. To see the tension in his body, she doubted Vox could make for a decent fight against her. Nothing against the man, but could he even fathom the nightmares she had seen, as he kept himself surrounded by such soft company? She truly doubted it. But even if he was contemplating a serious confrontation, that impulse left as she crumpled against him, seeking refuge in his arms.

Feeling him nuzzle into her neck, she smiles, relaxes even, the temporary anger forgotten for the moment. No point in being angry about a crime committed a thousand years ago, when there were more profound ones committed so recently. Remembering how he got away with his crimes in their youth, she almost laughs at the sweet words, the only thing she found curious was the proclamation that he had taken to waiting for her in the past hundred and some years. All the years before that, she wondered what he had been up to. What had made him come to his senses only so recently, but that didn't matter for the time being.

Though dark eyes fly open in surprise at the much more harsh words, coming without provocation, or reasoning. She wasn't here?! Why on Earth would she stay where she had been abandoned. She was given new freedom, and left to do with that as she pleased, and he thought she would just sit in an empty house as her family died away. Surely Vox wasn't that much a fool. But his punishment was lost on Laetitia, she was hardly the same, innocent creature he once knew. As his teeth dug into her shoulder, ripping through flesh, bringing forth a bubbling stream of sweet, red blood, the woman lets out a deep throaty groan, sharp fingertips digging into this thigh. "And what of you? If memory serves, you left first, you ass," she purrs out in return, keeping her vicious grip on tender flesh.
 
Vox licked at the wound he had created. The taste of her blood, thick as honey slid down his throat. Hands flexing against her hips he squeezed, trying to mold her to his will. The purr that admitted from her inflamed him into a groan, feeling her fingertips digging into his thigh- the leather little protection. He inhaled swiftly, holding his breath- fighting the urge to throw her over the table and ravish her. Yes, it had been too long since he sated his desires with this particular female.

"Flower..." he began, his words laced with a rumbling moan of masculinity as he licked his red lips. Pressing his lips against the pearl skin of her jaw he licked at the defined line. "You ran from me." A small whisper against the shell of her ear, it was barely audible, even in close range. He licked at her ear lobe, twisting her thick hair around his fist to control her movements. Vox was delighted with her, controlling her petite body with bruising force that was unacknowledged in his zeal.

"My flower..." he repeated huskily, capturing her ear lobe between his lips as his other hand slid over her thighs. She was so soft, just as he had remembered. A familiar warmth spread through his limbs, making him heady as if he were drunk, yet a known ache began to spread from his loins.

The mood, however was soon broken as the busty blond who had so silently remained in the corner hissed a threat. 'Bitch!' she screeched through the white of her teeth, naive to the strength of the creatures before her. She stepped forward, extending a hand to pull the hair that was not already entwined within Vox's fist. She was enraged with jealousy and unable to see that even if the creatures were mere human she would have been unable to pry the woman from Vox's sheltering and steadfast grip.
 
Shivering at the sensation of his tongue gliding over the recent wound, she allows him to cling to her and eventually she allows her grip on his flesh to relax. The increased pump of blood, the faint heating of his flesh beneath her rump was hardly overlooked by the pale skinned female and she was tempted to roll her eyes. Vox was never sated sexually. Or so it seemed.

"I ran from pain, I was in the throws of death, and left me to die on my own. And live again, to discover all the rules of our kind on my own. You were afraid of my pain, and you left me to deal with it on my own," she murmurs, too quiet for even the most curious of human ears close at hand. And those his hands were wandering and he was nibbling at her, and her body reacted accordingly, her dark eyes were watching the blond.

And as the blond launched at her, teeth bared like some vicious animal, Laetitia bursts into playful laughter, easily swatting away the grabby fists. The whore rather reminded her of Artemis. "Go home while you still can, Woman. I'm not interested in fighting with you, he's not worth it, trust me," she mutters, a wry smile on her lips. Part of her just couldn't resist trying to damage the man's pride at least a little, he deserved it for the way he was carrying on. He grew up better than that.
 
Vox paused, growling against the silk of her cheek, 'Do not pretend to understand me, Woman.' he threatened. His aggression and dominance were always more prominent when aroused. His usual charming arrogance melted away in the heat of a lover's embrace.

Raising his head he titled it, intending to slant his mouth across her's until she devolved into a fit of giggles. The man was rather oblivious to his environment when aroused, and it took him a moment to realize she wasn't laughing at him. His emerald eyes flicked away from her delicate face to the blond.

His blood was already hot with arousal and now it began to boil with anger at the boldness of the human he had once tumbled. Emerald eyes, washed with pleasure, turned towards Laetitia. Yes, she did well to bruise his pride, as Vox didn't take well to rejection, especially in public.

He tugged punishingly on her hair before standing. The woman may have been more trained than he; as he had been a lush these past hundred years, but his sheer size under her was not to be trifled with. Not so gracefully he dumped her from his lap, loosening his hold on her as his eyes bored into her's.

'Perhaps I'll take the blond back with me.' He probed, attempting to cover his wounded pride by wounding, childishly in return. 'I much enjoy your jealously, Flower.. perhaps I'll take her before you.' Reaching for the enraged human he attempted to cover his unwillingness as he drew her towards him. Vox suspected that this would douse Laetitia's confidence.
 
Of course, his little outburst only did well to add to her humor. Even as he did his best to harm and humiliate her, she caught herself easily, all her weight resting on her hands before she placed both heeled feet beneath her, standing up gracefully. Hair tousled around her face, she looked to the blond, and then back to Vox with a devious grin. "Oh sure, you can have the whore. But if you think you'll be touching me afterward, you're sorely mistaken."

Turning on her heel, she saunters over to the bar, leaning heavily over the counter top, giving the handsome bar keep a good view of her bust tightly bound in the corset. The tender was already appalled and disgusted with his normal customer, and he was more than happy to play along with the brunette's game, jotting his phone number down and slipping it across the counter top. Giving the man a darling smile, she turns on her heel to walk out the establishment, giving Vox only a passing, disinterested glance. Apparently, he failed to appreciate that she had lived her vampiric life well without him. That she did not waste more than a week looking for him, and certainly did not wait for him to return.

She had a home here, she intended to go there, relax as she had planned. The arrogant male would not be allowed to damage her in anyway. She had had a real lovers since Vox, and they were good to her. Anything less would not be humored.
 
Vox glared at his female, his emerald eyes following her with possessiveness. Even if she was disinterested Vox would continue the ploy, much to the blond's flattery. Wrapping his fingers around her ass he pressed his loins into her, enticing her to moan. It was quite the wanton show as he bent his head towards the top of her breast. Yet, his eyes remained upon his flower, darkening when she flaunted herself to another male. Dominance rolled through Vox as he growled against the woman's breast. His eyes darted to the bar keep; a dark promise of pain hidden in their depths.

So, it would be a battle of wills. He smiled against fragile skin. Wait until she returned to HIS home. He was willing to abide her games for now, he decided, pushing his anger down. Once she left the tavern he pushed the trembling blond away from him, wiping his mouth callously.

"Do not appear to me again, whore." He said roughly. She merely gave him a curious look, her brain muddled with pleasure. Stepping closer he pressed against her, 'I will kill you if I see you again.' He whispered, causing the blood from her flushed skin to drain. With a smile he gave a sweeping bow. Turning on his heel he grabbed his coat, casting daggers at the tavern keep.
 
Of course, she felt Vox's eyes on her the whole time, glaring daggers at her back. And she would probably have to go out of her way for a little while to ensure the barkeep's safety, as she would not be able to cope with the guilt if Vox killed the man because of her little game. Heedless of much else, she continued on her original path, feet carrying her towards her home as if on auto-pilot. Assuming it stood still. If not, she'd make due with whatever forest was closest to the grounds she grew up on. Surely the humans couldn't have decimated that much of the woods that made up her land.

Though to her surprise, upon her arrival, not only was the home intact, it was recently renovated. A gorgeous mansion, complete with lights burning away inside. Curiosity overtaking her, she slips inside like a thief. Perhaps a family had bought out the lands long ago abandoned. If that were the case, she'd happily let them have it. But as she made her way inside, the overwhelming lack of personality and personal touches such as family pictures, shoes, even matching furniture left her with a sinking feeling, only punctuated by the disgusting smell of stale sex and the scent of Vox everywhere. No kidding, he had been waiting. And he had the audacity to live in her home, on her lands, bringing home countless women to seduce. Perhaps he could ruin her plans after all.


In gay Paris, the dark haired male lets his eyes drift begrudgingly open, to stare at the stark white ceiling of the prestigious hotel's best suite. Still in dark jeans and a black button up from last night's dinner, he turns his head to stare down in disbelief at the blond curled up like a mutt on the floor. Stepping carefully over her, he heads to the window, drawing open the curtains to stare out at the city, still alive with every electric light on full blast, flooding the streets with light. It was a sight, though he wouldn't deem it romantic like the female did.

No, it was the same as any city. Full of life, dirt, horrifying scents, and crime. He'd be much more content to pass his time in his cabin, reading away whatever his hands could find. Not her. She wanted to go here, do this. She'd rather sleep on the floor next to him, than sleep in the bed. She'd rather burn herself trying to cook than order room service. And he could not figure out why he humored this girl. So many times he had thought about ditching her, but here he was, in the city of romance, with her sleeping on the floor. God help me, Riley muses, shaking his head. Perhaps he could pass her off on the city and go his own way with his sanity still intact.
 
A plaintive mew erupted from the woman on the floor. Spun gold, tangled in curls cloaked the floor under her as she flung herself to her stomach. She was so tiny, almost looking as a child until she rolled to her stomach with a sleepy moan. Revealing a rump no child would bare. Only glad in lace underwear and an oversize shirt the woman snorted against the rug. Stubborn woman. Sleep was giving way to the ache of her bones. Heavy lashes flicked upwards, revealing sleep dulled hazel eyes, brown and green swirling in their depths.

Rising from the floor she eyed the couch with a pout. Heavy tresses fell over her delicate shoulders framing a oval face with large curls. Her eyes were wide, her nose pert, lips lush and turned upwards in an eternal smile. Freckles graced her pearl skin as if leading a path to the treasures of her body.

A soft squeal emitted itself from her followed by an annoyed growl, which sounded more like a betrayed kitten. 'Riley..' she whimpered, rising from her spot. The loose material of the shirt slid to her thighs, hiding the curves of her rump as she approached her companion. Nuzzling her lips against his clothed bicep she wrapped her fingers around his forearm. Hazel eyes flickered towards the scenery, an expression of sleepy delight playing across her features. "It's beautiful!' she cried, fingers tightening around him an excitement.

Her soreness was forgotten as she turned her face towards him. "I want strawberries for breakfast." she commented innocently.
 
Unmoving, as if rooted to the spot by the window, Riley hears all the normal steps of the female's return to consciousness. The grunts and groans, the rustling of fabric, and always that protest. As if she hadn't gotten used to the fact that he always woke up earlier than her, and normally he moved to start his day. "Yes, it is," he replies simply. Turning slightly to glance down at his companion, his green eyes find her hazel ones and his full lips part for a sigh. "Then order strawberries," comes his voice, a little gruff but very soft in tone.

Pulling away from her grip, the male traverses the room, heading towards the large bathroom, intent on a shower to wash away the filth from the night before. Under deft fingers, the black button up falls away from a cut and toned torso. While he's by no means a muscle-builder sort, Riley has a handsome, sturdy build to him, and he moves sleekly, one could almost define it as graceful, though that would take away from the masculinity of the gait he's developed. Once behind closed doors, he steps out of the jeans, leaving him completely naked with smooth skin adorned in fine hair on his limbs, a tuft of dark curls around his groin, and a narrow swath traveling up his abdomen ever so slightly. Stepping into the shower, he runs a hand through medium length, bone straight, dark hair, before he turns on the water on full blast, as hot as it can go.

Letting the water splash against his broad shoulders, he relaxes. The bathroom had long since become a safe have, as Evey was usually wary to disrespect his privacy so blatantly, hence his developing a sort of germaphobia. He'd take any excuse given for a calming shower away from the ever energetic female.
 
Evey pouted as he pulled away from her grip. Her hair was still a little damp at the nape of her neck from the bath she had lounged in for hours the night before; as Riley had left her to her own devices. Sighing heavily Evey adjusted her clothing, soothing the ruffled lace over her backside. Ringing room service she order a tray of succulent strawberries.

She waited impatiently, pacing through the elaborate room- aware that Riley was within the confines of that bathroom. Shaking her head, she tried to dislodge her impulses. Glancing out the window she thought on her plans. Would he fall in love with her? This was the city of romance, her plan all alone. But, the man was unmovable. Huffing, she twirled a strand of gold around her small finger.

Before long the door rang and she answered, snatching a trey hastily and rather rudely, before shutting the door absently. Popping the fresh fruit into her mouth, past her moist pink lips she carried the trey with her.

'Riley!' she called, her voice honey like but still graced with the hoariness of sleep. "Breakfast is here!" The woman was a vampiress, indeed- but, it was her habit to eat human food, however nonsustaining it may be. There was a lot of humanity still left in the fledgling.

'Riley!' she called again, walking faster towards the door, trey in hand before she tripped with lack of grace. Strawberries flew to the floor, some tinting the white carpet with pink as she fell, knocking her head embarrassingly into the wooden bathroom door. I cry of surprise, before a deep moan of despairing embarrassment and frustration resounded throughout the room.
 
Riley had ignored the doorbell, leaving Evey to answer the door on her own, as surely she was capable of doing so. And even as she called him, he remained content to stay in the shower, the breakfast having little affect on him. He was to the point where hunger had long since left his body. Oh, sure, he humored her and would eat dinner with her from time to time. But with the cry and the sound of her head bouncing off the door, Riley lets a rare smile let show in the privacy of his shower before killing the water.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, his hair swept back away from his angular, sharp face, he strolls through the steamy bathroom, and pulls open the door, staring down at Evey with an impassive expression. "Break anything this time?" he inquires, quickly surveying the room. Strawberries all over the floor, but outside of that, everything seemed to be intact. Holding out a hand to help her up, he waits for the female to regain her senses.
 
Her skin flushed with embarrassment Evey rolled to her stomach once more, a strawberry smashing into her exposed skin. Evey squealed in surprise as the sensation of the cold fruit exploding against her belly. Her lips trembling as if she were a child who had spilt a glass of milk on prized table cloth. Evey yanked at her shirt, pulling it up to her ribs. She didn't want to presses the juice that ran down her stomach into the material. She had finally stolen a shirt that had belonged to Riley and he had yet to comment on her uses of it. Placing her free hand in his she murmured an apology as she surveyed her folly.

A red mark marred her forehead but it compared little with the strawberries that had been smeared into the expensive carpet. Did he really expect that she wouldn't ruin something? Letting out a cry of distress her hazel eyes ventured to his giving him the very look a beaten puppy would.
 
Watching the ordeal as it unfolds, he shakes his head, which causes a few locks to dislodge from the rest, falling down around his face. With very little effort, he pulls her to her feet and pushes her into the bathroom behind him. "Clean up. I'll get you some more strawberries, and have someone sent to clean up the mess," he says, as if compelled by the face that she made. Occasionally he couldn't help but wonder if she actually expected him to lash out at her, as that as often how she behaved.

Only just now had he realized the little thief had somehow managed to make off with one of his few t-shirts, and now it was spotted with pink. Not that it mattered, there would have been no getting it back from the girl. Never mind that, he decides, picking up the receiver and cradling it between his ear and shoulder. Placing another order for strawberries, this time requesting that they'd be accompanied with a bowl of melted chocolate, he nods at the rattling off of information on the other end before hanging up.

Righting the bowl, he picks up the strawberries, tossing the abused fruit into the bowl, before dumping the ruined breakfast into the trash. Quickly enough, room service appears once again, looking agitated. Apparently Evey had forgotten the basic principals of tipping. No matter how he tried, the girl never seemed to learn. Taking the tray, he passes the pissy male an overly generous tip, then closes the door. Waiting for Evey, he places the tray on the table and reclines on the couch, still in an almost statuesque sort of way.
 
Giving a slight nod of mortification Evey slipped into the confines of the bathroom. Too embarrassed to even notice that Riley was standing before her half clad in a towel, dripping wet. Shutting the door behind her she gave a whimper of loss, noting the spots of pink upon her garment. Pulling it over her head she cleaned her flat stomach.

Naked except for her purple panties she brushed a wet wash cloth over the skin of her stomach. She was so petite, the column of her neck delicately tapering into etched collar bones that spread into freckled shoulders. Her waist was tiny, yet unexpectedly widen into abundant hips. Her stomach was flat and toned flowing to her pelvis and sleek legs. Her breasts were befitting of her stature, though rounded nicely at least.

The skin on her belly prickled, turning red under the harshness that she scrubbed. Satisfied she tugged at her long tresses that fell to her waist even in spiraling curls. She gave another look of saddens towards the shirt, wrapping it in her hands as she looked for a towel. Seeing none she paid little mind too her situation. Opening the door the walked into their living quarters, holding the shirt. The roundness of her breasts still distinct under the array of gold falling around her like a halo.

'Riley' she whispered sweetly, a tell tale sign that she wanted something. 'May I have another shirt?' she asked hopefully taking in his lounging form..
 
Riley watches her boldly make her way from the bathroom until she's standing before him, wearing not nearly enough so as to be proper. At the tone, he already knew what she was after. First he surveys her body as one would a piece of art, the look lacking the lustful want one would probably deem proper, given the situation. With little expression, he nods, not bothering to gesture where the clothes were kept, as she had already figured it out. Hell, it wasn't even worth it to argue that he hadn't given her the shirt she had stained.

"I ordered you more strawberries," he states, which to him was obvious, but Evey had a way of over looking the obvious. And as if to punctuate this, he picks up a strawberry, dips half of it into the dark, melted chocolate, before popping the treat into his mouth. While he didn't have much interest in food as humanity defines it, he still did delight to some extent in chocolate. As a man, he had a sweet-tooth, and that prevailed, in secret.
 
Evey smiled a bit at him, feeling slightly self conscious until he turned away. Rejection welled up in her so she turned her back, walking to where he kept a few of his belongings. Pulling a plain black shirt over her head she didn't even bother pulling the mass of curls from under the collar.

Dropping the stained shirt casually to the floor she walked over to him and the dish of fruit. A perfect portrait of a scorned woman, she picked a strawberry up. Rolling it between her fingers she seemed more intent on inspecting it than eating it. Her gazed settled on it- or seemingly. But the girl was sly, her eyes staring past the fruit to a more forbidden fruit. Hazel eyes met the expanse of his muscled stomach a sigh escaping her plump lips.

It appeared as if the girl was sighing at her fruit, completely disappointed. She hadn't even noticed the chocolate, too intent on hiding her gaze from him as it lingered and traveled down trail of hair that disappeared beneath his towel. Looking up finally and staring at his handsome face she wondered if he ever noticed her affection for him. Her eyes, usually sparkling with excitement were merely lit with contemplation; a rare sight indeed; almost as rare as the silence she let settle over them.
 
Noting both the sigh and the silence, Riley tilts his head to look at her. Another individual might have smiled at her appearance, and a conceited male might have realized that Evey's interest laid not in the fruit, but in him. However, Riley seemed oblivious to this obvious or at least, he failed to acknowledge it. Though the silence was much appreciated, the facial expression was so unlike the Evey he was accustomed to, and so he sought to change it, without her realizing it, so he hoped.

Sitting up, he turns, placing both feet on the floor once more, to open up room for her to sit next to him. Capturing another strawberry in his grasp, he dips it into the chocolate, just as it's predecessor, before devouring it entirely in one bite, before looking at the blond expectantly, his eyes focused on her hazel eyes.
 
Evey looked up at his movements, her expression changing slightly as she noticed the chocolate. A smile shadowed the corners of her lips. Standing, she righted herself, pulling the hair from her collar- unable to stand the foreign feeling of restraint. Dipping the fruit into the chocolate she licked delicately at it.

One would think she would just dip her finger into the chocolate if that's all she was going to savor. Perhaps she was holding a grudge against the strawberry. She after all had glared at it for quiet some time. Strolling to where he sat, Evey took the cue. However, instead of sitting beside him she merely took a place in his lap. She was slight against him, but the weight of her could not be ignored against his hips.

As if finally contented she gave a giggle, 'Where are we going tonight?' she prompted, nibbling at the very tip of the strawberry with glee before turning her face towards his. She nuzzled her cheek against his. The smell of chocolate and strawberries mixing with her natural scent of vanilla; an interesting combination.

'I want to see the city glow.' She stated, her nose pressing against his affectionately as was her habit. A silly request, as she couldn't venture out if the city was not bathed in darkness. Shifting against him she pressed her stomach to his, trying to settle appropriately into his lap.

'We could stroll.' she suggested..
 
Not one for the trouble of protesting, Riley drapes a hand across her legs, other hand anchoring on her hip, holding her in place in his lap. If he were the sort for impulses and cravings, the girl's scent alone would drive him mad, but as it was, he merely reached around her, taking the hand from her lap to snatch up another strawberry before it disappears between pointed, white teeth. Nodding in agreement to her suggestion, he quirks a brow as she straddles his lap and wiggles closer, trying to press as much of her body against his as possible, it seemed.

"What do you want to see?" he asks, reclining back on the couch, away from the press of her chest for propriety's sake in the very least. Paris was her idea, and while he agreed to it with the hope that she would show an interest in the history, the art, he had thus far been disappointed. She was worse than a human tourist.
 
Warmth washed through her senses at the touch of his hand upon her bare legs. She gave a small shiver in his embrace, watching him slowly lean back from her. Perfectly content in her place she smiled at him, her hazel eyes taking on the familiar sparkle. Licking the rest of the chocolate from her strawberry she ponder his question, ideas racing through her head. Casually she leaned back into his chest, curling like a kitten into his lap. If only he would have let her sleep this way, she very much enjoyed his company as impassive as it was. Cheek pressed against his bare chest she smiled against his skin, lifting her hand she offered her moist strawberry to him casually as she began to talk.

"I'm not quite sure what there is to see in Paris!" she paused again, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his collarbone. "I just love the glow. It's so pretty here, a different environment from where you found me." He hadn't so much as found her, but come across her and in all likely hood ACCIDENTALLY saved her life. Though, the girl didn't mind much, she had followed him ever since that day in the dark cabin of the Americas. Her finger paused as her mind went off track, "I'd like to see fountains!" she exclaimed. "I once saw a postcard with a woman in front of fountains, a male kneeling before her with a small box in his hand." Nodding against his throat she twittered on, "It was so romantic." Suddenly her self conversation change directions, "Or we could check out down town. I've read some of those steamy books the humans write. They always start off down town in Paris." The girl really had no culture...

She let out a small gasp at a thought, "What about the clubs? Would you dance?" Evey giggled a bit at the thought, already guessing he would scuff at dancing. As if to tempt him she wiggled her hips against him a bit, "I think it would be delightful.. we could walk there past fountains and look at the pretty city and then we could dance until it was dawn." She really was too idealistic... She raised her head looking at him with such a delighted face it would have made a killer swoon. Would he disappoint her and tell her no?

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Artemis laughed heartily, her husky voice floating over the darkness. Her back against a tree she rested in fallen leaves, her shoulders squaring at the pathetic sight before her. A man was crumpled to the wet ground a groan escaping a parched throat. He seemed well built, but something about the way his cheeks hallowed, the tautness of his skin over his ribs, suggested malnourishment.

"Quiet, Mutt!" she seethed lurching forward a bit in a sudden homicidal rage. Everything was taken from her! Now her dog was faltering with his tracking. "I shouldn't have paid for you." Her voice was soft as she tilted her head, picking some foliage off her garments. "I should, however, rip you from limb to limb. The senses you were bred for aren't above mine." she said haughtily, "You're worthless..."

A grunt was the only response from the bent figure. Artemis had traveled from the America's into Paris, using her hound to track her sister, Iset. She growled, "Crab" she said to the breeze. The woman have traveled all over the world and Artemis had to pay for a companion to help in her tracking. But, it appeared as if Mutt was more of a burden. Much like a pet however, he was her burden to bare for as long as she chose to keep him alive. His life was her's.

Blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Long ago she had left behind her cumbersome armor. Finding it not only too broad but it brought a lot of unwanted attention and made hunting difficult. As her sister lingered in the Americas so did Artemis. Time seemed to lapse and she began adjusting, even picking new garments. A large flowing red trench coat made of wool and silk covered her large form. Busty and rounded, her femininity was definitely more noticeable in her new attire.

"Gather your strength, Dog." she instructed cruelly before rising, brushing dirt from her heavy leather boots. Turning her head towards the sky she stared at the moon. Her sister was most likely within some gathering of flesh, rubbing together- she snorted. "Foolish woman, I'll have my revenge."

Artemis' mind seemed to have deteriorated over the years, bent on revenge..
 
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