In such an active space, with the various paying patrons, her people and felines alike made that place feel like a living entity. One that was cloaked in allure, mystery, and dark promises. Yet despite all that noise that existed beyond her or her busy empire, amongst the throng of people and countless occurrences existing at any one time, it was rare for the feline queen to truly be truly engaged or entertained for a length of time by those beings. This unique stranger, however, was certainly different from the rest that frequented here, his very signature of power attesting that he was the oldest being within Syn at that very moment, including herself. There were simply not that many old ones left. They were a dying breed, meeting their demise for one reason or another within such a lengthy lifespan. Naturally picked off by their own kind or those meddling hunters or any other misfortunate mishap. They were a competitive species by nature, hungry for more than just food but a firm foothold within their social hierarchy. Survival was achieved by being the biggest monster in the room. How she had long found her own place amongst those ranks, defended it and maintained it so that those true threats were fewer and farther between. It was not by chance that she wound up in her position of power. It was not by chance that she was still alive. It was not by mere chance of all she obtained beyond what was given to her beyond birth.
Nor was it by chance that one of her greatest challenges was not those transitory beings around her that could so easily be bested, nor was it maintaining power, or her vast wealth. No, her greatest challenge existed within herself and not even in the way one might think. That catalyst of that challenge could all but be felt with his jealous gaze watching every move she and her newfound companion made, barely able to contain himself by the mere proximity of an attractive stranger near her. How those jealous tendencies have always existed and perhaps, to some small degree, impossibly have grown despite how well he had learned a semblance of control in many ways.
However, she could not properly discover this new stranger's motives with him breathing down his neck, with the risk of enraging a being much older than himself. Yet, she wished to discover what his motives actually were... After all, vampires of his calibre were incredibly sparse. Amicable intentions were even rarer. Especially when there was always someone wanting an in. Always something wanting something from her and all she possessed. How fear, respect, and reputation went hand in hand when directed at her. Those cunning pale eyes missed nothing as they watch from her own position at the bar, taking note of his disposition that maintained that composed quiet, confident calm. She found it intriguing in a species that was volatile. Even more so when his language shifted seamlessly to French. That dialect was flawless enough to dare to provoke a hint of nostalgia that crept through the hairline cracks every so often. Nothing could compare to those richly diverse European cities. She could not ignore that slight internal tug to return to her once homeland... every so often gaining a craving to snub those metaphorical graves of those who had wronged her, to see all that she had left behind. All things she pushed aside as she focused on the palatable European vampire and why he would attempt to visit that establishment when he appeared to crave peace.
He responded to that statement that he had so clearly observed far more than just that paper he claimed to read at the bar of a rather busy nightclub. How much he could discover from her mate by one mere glance. That response that it was the way of their kind was not a statement she disagreed with, nor one to elaborate on. A simple confirmation spoke within her mother tongue. She noticed as he studied her and her mate like she studied him, could see it plainly, that silent assessment behind his laconic golden stare that was not to be mistaken with laziness or stupidity. She did not miss his sweeping gaze that lingered upon her hand as if seeking out a ring on her finger as most males tended to do out of habit. That visible sign that she belonged to someone even though he voiced that question. The only visible sign that alluded to that was perhaps the Cartier bracelet upon her wrist. Her fingers pressed into the fur of the faithful large feline's head at her side, the other man seemed hardly phased by its predatory presence like so many others were. His gaze shifted to Darcy then back to her, those golden eyes taking in far more than any average being. One did not survive this long by being a fool.
The topic of marriage was hardly finished as she inquired why he even thought her to be the marrying kind. A knowing smile brushed across his features as if he had no qualms with elaborating it, nodding toward Darcy once more. How well she knew it must have driven her mate mad, watching on, knowing he was being spoken about and not hearing a single word of it. Their lips at this angle were very difficult to read with the commotion of the bar, the sound of music flooding out the sound of those calm voices.
Risque listened to the other vampire's carefully stitched together words, how quickly he had pieced those tiny, intricate puzzle pieces together to declare that statement that was all too accurate much to her own irritation. How often times she would consider such blatant speech to be grating as it was invasive. Risque near turned over every single word in her mind, looking for some kind of angle. But the softness to his tone, the honesty of his words twisted almost poetically and yet effective, unlike the way poetry so often failed.
How those opinions on this matter were as vast as an ocean and yet rarely ever spoken about. "You are not wrong. I accepted him as my mate, regardless of age or power... I accepted him as my mate because his demons danced so well with my own." He possessed what so many countless people did not. Darcy had always been different in countless regards... could he be different in this too? Certainly, he did not concern himself with thoughts of marriage. She blinked to rid herself of that baffling nature of that conversation although it was hardly effective, even with such sound resolve of her own dark and twisted mind. How she had some idea that he had wanted more from her, always.... Even in the ways she wasn't sure she was capable of, or so she thought. Their relationships and it's many aspects have been nothing but an intensely intimate, passionate, unique and private affair. Most of it partaking behind closed doors where walls could not talk. Untouched.
It was then that she feline-queen so turned that line of questioning back towards him and his own domestic bliss, the vampire possessing a family. Of that she could no betray was a subject she was far too interested in, perhaps curious of. Especially for the reasons in which he wished to escape them, even if only for a little while. His surprisingly honest answer only served to intrigue her further. He was the epitome of a family man through and through. Tamed by his woman or something else. Perhaps he was always that way, the kind that had always been prone to such notions. Or maybe with the right being and the right time. Surely it was a foolish thought. It was that mention that he was married for many centuries to the same woman... and she was not a vampire. The chuckle rang from his throat. Deducing the species of his wife wasn't exactly hard considering she was clearly immortal and not a vampire. How she dismissed the notion of a hunter. Hunters and vampires were notoriously at odds with one another. "You married a fae?" She questioned incredulously with the fact that their kind had nearly hunted them to extinction. Such a delicate species they were, so prone to falling to their species. Such a union was, yes as he put, untraditional. Much like the prince and his king. Or the king and his prince... Who knew how that worked.
He further explained that he had been lured, the very thought seemed to amuse her that he didn't even bother to shy away from that simple fact. That no matter what he was, he was still a man who could have allowed himself to be lured by a female. Predominantly a fairy female, luring him into that life of domestication. How she thought she had seen everything and yet in matters of love she was so often blind. "I used to think it to be impossible that a fairy could ever withstand a vampire in the long term, considering the passionate nature of our species, paralleled only by blood lust and ardour. We are nearly indestructible and the rest are simply.... Not. She must be.. more." She did not elaborate on what she meant by more. Yet how could he not simply just bleed her dry? Perhaps she was different to him like Darcy was to her and yet her mate and her were the same species. There was room for... error. They were not gentle creatures, They were made of violence and passion combined. A perfect storm. They were not gentle, even less so in the bedroom, not even those nights he took control. They were nearly indestructible and how they seized that. How curious that one might be with something so fragile. That was why their kind, when they actually found a match, stuck to their own. The male vampire's smile grew, his impressive fangs glinting as if the topic of conversing about his relationship was one he liked to speak of. Those long fangs would need to be handled with certain care around a fairy. What terribly difficult feat to find that precarious balance, she mused. A vampire that allowed themselves to be tamed. Ha! Yet how oblivious she was... That she had perhaps to some degree tamed her lover even if she embraced the sharpened edges he possessed much like he did her own. How oblivious she was to her own change and the way she was with her own mate. How much she had willingly allowed him to get close to her. How often he searched for those words of affection she fought. Craved her love, her touch, her. Was that what the vampire meant? Had his lover coaxed those feelings from him? Did that mean, as much as she had lured Darcy, he somehow was luring her in turn? Surely not.... Such complexities she hadn't even considered.
The she-devil was nothing but still aware of the truth of the European vampire's presence, even though he was amicable company. A rarity for even her without feeling the prickle of aggravation. It was no surprise that she disliked most people and that she was not alone in that thinking. How the other vampire was willing to slice through that tension, to crush the doubt of his own intentions. He was concise and deliberate in the way he cut through the political pleasantries with a rare directness. If he had no ill intent, then he was welcomed. The European vampire seemed content with that accord that had been informally struck, paving the way to a far more candid conversation.
It was once that was settled, the European vampire questioned why she chose a mate so young, one that was met with an easy reply. He was more than met the eye. He was unlike most men who could not handle her in more than one way. How she meant that statement in far more ways than just one. Although it was intriguing how interested he seemed to be in their relationship. She supposed it had always been a point of interest to most, especially considering her previous, obvious lack of commitment. Darcy was a first for her in countless ways. How she knew the traitorous nature of people, their weak nature. Weak in loyalty and their convictions. But not him. Even at a fraction of her own age, and he had more than most men. Perhaps it was that southern, rugged nature of his or perhaps it was something uniquely his that blended so well with her own.
It would appear he seemed to appreciate her use of words, that compliment spoken in French once more. Clever. He called her. However, she could not ignore the fact that her mate was simply ready to lunge when she had only spoken to the vampire at her side. He had not tried to cross the many lines that existed or looked to incite jealousy within her lover. It would seem, that he was determined to be a neutral party in all ways. It was perhaps refreshing to the terse, stagnant politics that consistently surrounded her. Those beings were often hungry like starving wolves for what she had to offer, her infamy, her power, or simply that desire for a piece of her... for themselves. How many wanted her to be a trophy on their shelves like that was all a woman was for. How many had met their end simply for that mistake? From her lover and even her own hand. Her mate's composure was crumbling as the wall he had decided to make his enemy.. How destructive he was... even though she sent him away with a mere look she always appreciated that volatile passion that existed within him. Which was not nearly conducive to that seemingly peaceful conversation. However, she did not send him too far, allowing him to watch from that balcony. To survey. To appease at least some of those jealous tendencies.
It was perhaps time they move beyond those introductions by getting them out of the way. He mentioned that he possessed no claim to territory here and that his lands remained in Belgium. Which she was sure was to her own benefit to make him appear more friend than a potential rival. Her interest was slightly piqued by the memory of someone who had once bordered that country. "I'm intrigued, Quinton of Belgium." She mused out loud at the formality of it, finding it almost vaguely..... humorous like she always did. Even still, it felt Reminiscent of those far more flamboyant introductions of the past. Fortunately, it was simple to move beyond it, the mention of a drink was offered. To extend like a formality that Quinn was a guest in her kingdom.
Yet she hardly expected the want of tea and yet how it seemed to fall in line with the man. To come to a bar to read the paper and drink tea. Perhaps he would have been more inclined to a peaceful café and not a bar. "It has been a while since I had black tea, but I have some imported from France, it is part of my personal collection. I will have a cup as well.." How strange it was to drink tea in a bar and considering how she dressed, she truly thought little of most others opinions.
Risque turned toward the bar to quickly scan and find the bustling Lorelai on the far end of the bar. It was like she could sense Risque's commanding attention and immediately turned the moment she felt the weight of that pale hypnotic gaze upon her. She quickly crossed the distance, flashing a smile revealing those perfect teeth.
"Summon Leon, he knows how. Tell him to prepare..... Tea for two and bring those fresh pastries, he will know which ones." Confusion bloomed over Lorelai's features and yet she knew better than to speak out of turn. She turned to do exactly what was asked with haste, reactive to her command.
Once more, her attention returned to the golden-eyed vampire just as she returned to that subject of... progeny. Oh, Risque had a lot to say on that particular subject. How accurate Quinton was in his notice of the human race and their lack of potential. "Do not get me started on progeny. The human condition has severely worsened." Stupidity was an infectious disease and it seemed to spread like wildfire, only getting worse with each and every passing moment. Perhaps it was technology to blame. The constant distractions. Yet how it made them easier to deal with, like sheep while she possessed her metaphorical den of lions.
"Is your daughter you mentioned your progeny?" She inquired, perhaps Quinton had better luck with progeny than she did. How she had realized she was far better without such dead weight, especially with the gift of immortality she had bestowed upon them.
It was then that he offered her that explanation of where he was from. It explained his accent and the fluent French he spoke. He spoke with a rare sort of unhurried calm. Well-spoken and gentle despite how much power he possessed. How most humans would have struggled to pick up on such a gentle voice over the music, her vampiric hearing and their proximity made it easy. In this modern age, everyone was rushed but not him. It appealed to her own nature that was fickle at best.
"I spent most of my life in France. While I can speak other languages, I simply prefer French and English despite how crude a language it is in comparison."
It was then that she admitted her own curiosity about marriage. Yet it was at a cost of the topic of her unique mate. Hmm.. Just as she began to form her reply Leon emerged in all his flamboyant, stylish glory. He procured two individual teapots and matching teacups with the bags in still steeping to that desired strength. With the tea, he brought an assortment of her favourite pastries that she rarely indulged in. A treat. How unusual it was for her to entertain like this and she dismissed those all too curious glances sent their way. "Oh yummy." Leon said unable to help himself as his appreciative gaze fell upon Quinton, none too shyly as he placed the tray down before the pair... "I would call him daddy, if you know what I am saying..." He attempted at subtle and ultimately failed at secretive as he leaned into Lorelai to tell the woman that very thing before his retreat. Lorelai choked out a laugh before abruptly attempting to look extremely busy with that drink she had been pouring for one of the patrons.
Risque shook her own head, even though she in some way speechless. Perhaps.... In this instance the best way to deal with it was to ignore... it. "That is Leon, he has always been..... Colourful with his language. He is also lucky he is useful to me.." Risque's gaze shifted to the eclairs and other pastries upon that tray, perfectly appetizing on display. How she could not deny those looked good.
"Help yourself. The eclairs are my favourite." She motioned gracefully toward them with a simple elegant shift of her hand, allowing that tea to steep for a few more minutes.
"Hmm. To answer your previous question." It was probably better to distract with the question that was previously unanswered. "I used to believe it was as simple as training. A blend of positive and negative reinforcement..." She did not hold that same mind power over him like so many others. No, he possessed an immunity to it. Which of course perhaps brought on its own challenges and perhaps provided.... Something that was far more meaningful in return. He was not like one of her cats she could manipulate at their core. Or influence someone with a mere caress of her hand.
"I thought it was only my methods that crafted him. I thought it was much more complex and deeply psychological. I believe that might be only in part. In some ways he is the monster I have made. I simply... showed him more, another way. I might have taught him... manners... but his loyalty and devotion. That was all him. You cannot train that. You can train a slave and a pet to be obedient, remove tall that they were and shape them, but it is not the same." Was it truly love? The concept, her lover used so freely time and time again. How was she considering this in this very moment? Was love the reason why she had every choice to kill him and chose not to? She had, after all, chosen the far more difficult path to work with him... as he chose her time and time again. How he seemed to relish in that new way she offered, her way, thrived in it unlike anyone before him. That was not true for everyone. How in releasing his control to her, he was able to relearn some of his own. She had failed with others, much to her own disdain. Her cherished alpha pet was still defiant despite it all. How she knew the only hope for her panther was to break him, so thoroughly that he would never be the same. But that did not create what Darcy was. She had not broken him. She had broken people, countless people to know the difference, leaving them nothing but a husk to hold what she left to remain. Her attempts at progeny had failed. No. In some convoluted way, Darcy chose her, as she did him, somehow. Her usually smooth features pinched into a subtle frown in consideration. "Do not be deceived by the man you see. He is still very much, at the heart of it.. A Ravager. Perhaps it is similar to the way you were lured into domestic bliss. That does not change that you are still a vampire, non? Perhaps we all just evolve with the beings and conditions that surround us... Yet, just like a leopard, it does not truly change its spots. Or just because the feline here at my side is complacent and beneath my control, does not make it any more domesticated." She spoke those accented words with ease. Why she chose a stranger to share them with... well that was another matter entirely. Perhaps Darcy had something to do with that too in some strange way. "Perhaps it is far more simple and ego is what complicates it." For what was emotion? Emotion was ego. What was love if not the most basic of emotions?
The feline queen idly lifted her hand to reach for the handle of the teapot and poured herself a cup, Quinton's own individual teapot was available to pour his own. The french vampire did not add milk to hers, just a single sugar cube that dissolved within the heated beverage, lifting a spoon to mix it perfectly before placing it on the side of her saucer.
"My question to you is, why did you choose to marry? What could it possibly offer? I hear the sex is not nearly as good. We are immortals and the concept of marriage is a term that is so very human. It has been used as a way to solidify and gain power and wealth... there are those few that marry for....
Love other reasons. But time means nothing to an immortal. Societal structures rise and fall all the time. Yet, people still marry and mates exist with our kind." She drew the cup to her lips, taking but a small sip of the hot drink and yet she watched her companion with a level but intrigued stare.