out for blood
she's somethin' so cold-blooded with
a deep killer instinct
Risque knew all too well that she had left him in a state of desire which all but clawed within him, it clung to his figure. That starved look within his unique mismatched eyes had nothing to do with blood. He wore that look well, nor could she deny that pull that tugged within her, far more surprisingly, a hint of a threat that wavered upon the feline queen's control. That rush of blood brought a strange newfound intimacy of sharing like they had, poked a singlular hole in her resolve. A pinprick into a resolve that would undoubtedly surprise her. She is master here. She had possessed control that she had all but centuries to perfect. She would torment him for his choice, the she-devil entirely content to fan those flames of discord within her lover. Risque knew exactly what she was doing, yet... how easy it would have been to push that resolve. She knew it, that he would not be immune. Could sense it in his form, all that trapped virile energy with nowhere to go. It was like she could feel that dark energy crackle through him, dangerous, alluring like she could run her fingers through it, could manipulate it. That very look within his eyes that she had all but cultivated from her expert hand. Instead, she left, the memory of her, her scent still cloyed within that very room. She was everywhere, tormenting and haunting him as she knew how to. She knew the language of his body well. How innately aware that she was hardly through with him yet. Her mind was a cruel and unforgiving thing, after all.
Risque prowled within that transformed Syn, her astute and judgemental gaze assessed every last nuance. Allowing her own tension to ease from her as her mind honed a distraction. The vampire queen expected perfection as if it were her own party. She had a talent at creating those all too irresistible events, one could not deny that she possessed a vision that most lacked in this bland existence. She had grown up in lavish extravagance. Brushed elbows with royalty, seen the best entertainment had to offer and less forthcoming, the basic hedonism that could be sought in far more unseemly places. Now she commanded it. It was one of the reasons why Syn thrived so well. That atmosphere was nothing short of alluring in its taboo nature, often replicated and never duplicated, it was one of its kind. It possessed a soul if you could call it that, one with teeth that were crafted to loosen that careful resolve and willing to sell your morality for just a taste of sinful pleasure. Tonight was different and yet its enticing allure could not be denied... that dance floor hardly appeared as it once was, even though those polished games tables and almost excitement trembled within those walls. No one was quite sure what to expect even those roles given to them beforehand. The atmosphere felt somewhat stiff. Risque's presence was clearly felt, tension caused by her watchful eye was obvious even though she melded within that shadows. Those now stationary concert lights brought a red warning-like haze upon that room amongst the murmur from voices, entwined with faded music. It looked like a casino plucked from hell itself. How that energy seemed to shift once more from her lover's presence, weary gazes shifted from one another. He moved toward her side, that contentment entwined with clear appreciation at the spectacle for him. It had been far too lifeless within these walls for too long. While she enjoyed that reprieve, she refused to allow anyone to grow too lax.
Mekel and Osiris lingered close to their mistress, Mekel fascinated with these new boots. The feline was perfectly content to examine them, cautious as she was not to irritate the vampire who wore them. Risque watched on with a mild indifference as she sipped on her glass near, truly like a surveying queen even though she hardly dressed it tonight. The bleeding red lights illuminating her features in an almost conflicting sinister way. Risque was always like some sinful dream, meant to disarm with her dark beauty. How easy it was to miss the devil behind those eyes and yet if one were to survive it, they must not ever forget. Darcy was quick to focus upon Ian as his first victim, who was unsurprisingly quick to fall, he hardly stood a chance to Darcy's expertise.
It was Ian that drew her sharp gaze that was once unseeing with thought to land upon the bartender. How he.. Seemed to handle losing to Darcy poorly. That reprimand with but a single word of warning from Risque sliced through the gloom. He did not fool enough to contest it, even though he still seemed to push his luck with Darcy who simply batted him away, content to take away that prize. Even if he hardly had a choice in the matter. The bartender meandered away with a pout on his lips, sulking to mourn the loss of his prize. He seemed resentful to have lost so quickly, perhaps stuck on some foolish notion that he could avoid his fate somehow. As though he could truly find a way to win. It was just like the illusions she wielded. It was exactly that. Ah, but that loss was like blood in the water, a perfect way to whet the appetite and increased that apprehension within that very room. The anxiety was palpable, embellished with the sound of heartbeats from her nervous weres. That was when that question slipped past her cowboy's lips. How certain she was that he would choose one of the Were-cats to best next. Yet perhaps it did spark a little intrigue within the vampire queen, agreeing to learn that game. Darcy stood, quick to pull that chair for her, she tasted her drink before she slid forward, her clouded leopards content to hover close. At least until Mekel lunged forward to bite at Osisis' tail.. who wrongfully hissed at her, his paw raised to bat the female away. Mekel, the far more dominant of the two content to growl and chase him off in relentless but feverish pursuit, melting into the murky crevices, their antics ignored for a time as she settled neatly within that chair. Risque somehow had that uncanny ability to make any chair look as though she perched upon a throne.
It would seem she would bite. Lorelai seemed... to lose her nerve, unwanting to be so close to the two of them when together. It was hardly a safe place to be. Risque declared that she wished him to teach her how to win. He knew that game better than any other, he clearly knew its internal secrets meant to be unlocked. Her hypnotic eyes grew expectant then. It was a near-impossible task to demand in just a few short moments and yet she hardly cared. Yet what a rare task that was, to be given the opportunity to teach. Darcy seemed to contain that wariness well, even though that slightest of hesitation was enough to know. Before he could utter a syllable, Lorelai was dismissed with a simple flick of her wrist. Risque missed the look of relief that she was offered as she slipped away to undoubtedly tease Ian of his loss, content to not have to spend another moment longer than she had to at that stifling table. She hardly wished to end up in the crossfire if that spotlight were to unfavourably land upon her. Darcy casually reached out for those cards to shuffle in a lax fashion, leisurely taking his time without a care in the world. He never seemed to be crushed beneath the weight of that pressure, his calculating mind often found a solution within the fray.
Their gaze met as he went to explain that card game she only vaguely came to know. Risque drew her drink to her lips as she allowed him to speak, explaining the rules of the game of his namesake. How expertly he manoeuvred those cards, the mechanics easy enough to wrap one's mind around. But that was the easy part. She wanted to know... how to win. She appeared patient as Darcy played dealer. She dipped her head in a nod, watched as his hands worked to expertly place those cards before her and then two to himself. "Go on."She urged, placing her glass onto the table, distracted with the task before her.
He was a good teacher, how odd it was to see that now. Those rules all clicked into place along with that faux hand. It was deceptively easy... a game of chance and skill. Now, how did she ensure her own victory? Perhaps he was getting to that part last. He controlled that trial game, cautiously. Her total was... low. It was clear she should take another card even though there was a minor risk to go over that limit. It was better than drowning in it. "Fine then... Hit." She waited expectantly for Darcy to dish out another card, the card faced upright. Her tally was clearly higher than his own. It was almost a pity it wasn't a true game.. Darcy, perhaps cautiously danced around that very thing.
"It's simple enough. Why did you not take another card?" She questioned, his number appeared low enough... was he playing cautiously even in that mock hand?Hm. Or was the dealer limited to what they could...do.
It was only after a moment that Ian yelled across the room. It would seem he was still quite unsettled at losing, the man unable to allow his loss just be. Risque's lip curled in distaste. He surely knew he wasn't here to win. Darcy was quick to defend his duplicitous nature. The pair of vampires sniped back and forth. Risque sat up straight, her long slender leg placed over her thigh, facing Darcy which only put those boots in clear view. She shifted in her chair to catch a glimpse of the bartender vampire. How irritating Ian was tonight.
"How noble.. Ian.. Perhaps you should remember yourself. Are you not the man who takes the lion's share from the collective tips at the end of every night? Are you... really going to claim cheating because you failed to predict a game of chance. You demean yourself." Risque spoke with a hint of nonchalance and yet how quickly she threw him under the bus, how quickly she had her metaphorical knife to his helpless throat. He threatened that mood she had created and she would not allow that whimpering fool a chance. Ian's gaze widened, embarrassment flashed upon his features. He was smarter than to raise his voice against Risque. The man mumbled that she was right, just before Lorelai who had joined him behind the bar, kicked him in the chins. OW! he yelped. Apparently, she did not like being shafted from those tips. A groan escaped him as Risque seemed amused to watch the pair for but a moment. Ian attempted to focus on that bar, his battle well and truly lost as anticlimactically as the man himself. While he might have stayed silent enough to avoid the focus of Risque and Darcy, it was clear Lorelai had much to stay. The blonde woman was far from finished with him.
Isn't that what separated the lions from the sheep? Do what it takes to win. Ian could have cut his losses, instead, he seemed to want to tie weights to his ankles and then go for a swim in the ocean. Ian fell silent, Lorelai's face a look of rage. How he better remember to use that charm against the pissed off succubus.
Darcy's attention fell back toward Risque who seemed to play a game of her own. There was something almost sly to those words he offered her. If he had meant to entice her it worked. A game tailored for her? "Hmm. Go on, show me." The midnight haired vampire seemed willing to entertain the idea. Risque rose a slender brow, intrigued by this newfound way of playing. Those enticing words prompted a curiosity. Darcy summoned one of the closest Were's. A were-lion named Jay.. jake. Jax... hmm. It would seem she had forgotten. How his hands seemed to tremble as he neared and took those cards from Darcy's hands. He replaced the dealer's spot that Lorelai once had stood across from her. His quivering fear smelled like perfume to her predatory senses. She had forgotten what he looked like in this form. Like most of weres. She preferred them feline unless she possessed other uses for them that required their human side. Felines.. Were far more preferable.
Darcy commanded for the young fearful shifter to deal. Darcy drew up from his spot to stand behind her, to survey the hand that was dealt. They were both evenly matched. The dealer and her. Both possessing a 10. Hm, it was anyone's game. This meant she was supposed to hit. Darcy lowered to a crouch so that he could hover close to her ear. His words were meant for no one else but herself. Risque allowed her lip to quirk, her gaze watchful of her opponent. How that subtle smile looked like she might devour him. How quickly the were-lion seemed to avert his gaze, to focus on his lone little hand before him as though he could be lost to anything but her. Ah, how this way of playing appealed to her nature. Darcy was correct in that.
Darcy's voice was like a diabolic purr in her ear, he spoke her language all too well. Perhaps that was his game all along. To keep himself off that chopping block. Whether it was out of self-preservation or to endear himself to her was impossible to be seen. Perhaps it was both. How quick she was to hone upon it. That predatory nature seemed to all but preen at the thought. Of course, a heartbeat was an involuntary thing that spoke wonders. Of course, it could be used to read emotions betraying their next action. The she-devil already knew how to pick up on that heartbeat, to know when someone was lying. When they were about to do something foolish. Like, run. How appealing it was. Her tongue traced her lower lip in consideration to Darcy's suggestion. How appealing his voice was at that moment. Or was it his words that seemed to stoke something inside of her.
After those words, Darcy's lips pressed his lips to her neck, just below her ear. All he said, swirled with potential within her mind, and that simple revering kiss coaxed a yearning from her. Her lips part, her gaze lowered toward those cards, as Darcy's distracting presence pulled away. The command to give her another card was sharply voiced with confidence. An ace, that score was a clear and boastful 21.. How easy this game was! Darcy's smile spread wickedly across his lips. One that mirrored her own.
Darcy was quick to distract her that she should claim her prize. Hmm, what could she possibly want from him? She wasn't hungry for blood... but surely there was something else he could give her... There was an unnerving predatory look behind her pale eyes as she fell silent in consideration. She tapped a manicured nail upon the rim of that games table before allowing it to slide. Her gaze was heavy upon her prey who looked like a tapped mouse underneath a clawed paw. She could ask him to die, could have asked him to bleed, she could have asked him for anything.
Finally, she parted her lips to speak. Her voice was like the calm before the storm. "I want a tooth. Go to Ruben... tell him I want him to remove an incisor in your feline form... then when you're done, bring it to me. I don't care which form you come to me as. Bow and serve me my prize. If I see your eyes once, I will punish you for all to see. That is what I want as my prize." How terribly sadistic it was to want a piece of him and yet she had taken far worse before. What was a tooth to him? Although, it might have seemed like it was without purpose it was not, there were many uses for that tooth. Risque coveting as an inlay for one of her newest weapons. That command seemed to register, a lump formed heavy and thick within his every tightening throat. How pale the man got. A pathetic sound left his lips as if he meant to protest. As if he meant to riot against this. One of the lionesses, in human form that hovered by the roulette table, seemed to watch him with sympathetic eyes. It looked as if she wanted to go to him and yet knew better of it. It looked as though she might cry. "Now run along.." that all too melodic sound to her voice evident. The man was forgotten as he uttered his understanding, knowing all too well the consequences that would face him should he not deliver.
Risque turned her body and head to face Darcy, expecting her lion to carry out his task without any protest. Her powers simply at the ready should he decide to prove difficult. How his heart began to race, it was like a beacon. "I like this game." She admitted, wholly satisfied that she had conquered that game.
"So tell me lover.." She enunciated the very word like it was something she tasted, delicious upon her tongue as she elegantly rose to her feet in one fluid sweep. Each prowling step she drew near him, closing the distance as she knew all too well how reactive his body was to her. Just how to make it ache for her. It would seem her birthday boy was hardly immune to her antics even if this scenario was entirely unique. How badly he wanted it. How badly was he willing to test his resolve for it? She was dreadfully fickle with this uncertainty snapping within her. Yet how... she secretly savours in it. She drew to him with that feline-esque grace, resuming that unique brand of torment. She lowered her hand to cup him firmly through his jeans. She makes no move, to produce that friction his body would have longed for earlier."If for every victory gives you one... request. How long could you last? Knowing that you already have one? When one might be all you need. Maybe. Tell me... Darcy.." Her lips draw so close to his ear. "How much of a gamble are you willing to take? Small... large... or none at all.." Her breath a heated whisper against his ear, her very teeth threatened to nip at his lobe. She spoke in riddles, simply because she could. Yet it was uncertain just how far she would go.. Or what she would grant him one way or the other.
"But of course... the rest of the party awaits you... The choice is yours.." Her blood stained lips, lush and sinfully upturned at a singular corner. For now. She seemed to muse. At least it would be his choice until she got tired of this charade. Just like that she released him and he is granted his space once more, filled with the faint music as if the world remembered to start turning again. " Another round of Blackjack? Blackjack?"
you better run
the full moon's rising.