Although his meeting with the auburn vampire and subsequent evening spent at her bar was altogether short lived, somehow, the demure female had remembered him enough to see to it that a very particular invitation arrived upon his doorstep. Such a thing in and of itself, he supposed, was not particularly peculiar. What had seen his eyebrows rise, ever so slightly, however, was the simple fact that invitation was for an all vampire gathering. In truth, Sebastian hardly hated his own species. How could he? He was what they were and they were apart of what he was. They could understand each other perhaps better than most could even hope to. However, there was strikingly little use for them within his own life. Their blood was as cold and dead as that stolen life force that ran through his own veins and as for the prospect of a vampire companion or friend? Well, he'd yet to truly meet any of his kind that had intrigued him enough to even so much as consider a prolonged time within their presence. Certainly Isolt herself had been curious in her denial of him. And Ceara was intriguing for the knowledge she held of his maker but beyond that? Still - it could be interesting to see out this proposition.
It was that inquisitiveness that saw the vampire deviate from his usual routine. Rather than the t-shirt and jeans he so wore when so frequenting the bars, the vampire donned the rather cliche tux. Men's dress in the modern day offered rather little variety and yet, there was no doubt the handsome Englishman looked decidedly sharp, nevertheless. Sebastian left his newly acquired estate within the North, taking to the sidewalks and streets. He had always enjoyed the way the city seemed to feel alive at night, the way it so thrived and too filled the undead man with a sensation of life was surely enough to see him avoiding whatever luxurious vehicle he surely could have arrived within - not that anyone would have noticed such a car either way really. Nevertheless, tonight, perhaps of all nights, the Englishman flexed his own metaphysical capabilities perhaps far more than he should have, keeping up a careful aura of avoidance around him so as to see that when he did arrive at the event it was with his tuxedo in the same impeccable form it was the moment he had left his home.
Upon arriving to such a peculiar event, the vampire paused upon the threshold of the bar he was beginning to become quite familiar with. His indigo hued irises glanced over the inhabitants within, one eyebrow slowly rising. The host herself was altogether easy to find, her fair feminine figure looking decidedly scrumptious in the flowered dress she wore and yet, it was instead the two small red threads that were tied so neatly around her finger for but his eyes only to see. The end of one of such threads seemed to be tied to the finger of the strange man beside her. How inquisitive. For all her talk of love, for how much she had yearned it, it had seemed the demure vampire had finally found her soulmate. Or at least, one of them anyways. It was the petite figure of his own maker next that caught Sebastian's attention, his gaze but briefly narrowing as he observed the hand she held so tightly within her grip - the hand of another woman unknown to him. How she seemed to pick up strays without a single thought given to her own creation managed to vex him so. And yet, on one hand, he supposed, the less attention provided to himself the safer his own interests were from his fangs. Her games were not to his liking and it was admittedly his eternal fear that Dorian might find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time with Sebastian unable to control his own movements, thanks to that small child.
It was entirely this reasoning that saw Sebastian eventually step towards the crowd instead towards the familiar form of Ceara. His hand reached out to settle upon the small of the woman's back as he joined the small congregation, a small simper provided to the woman before he briefly turned his gaze upon Isolt. "Good evening, dove, you look lovely tonight." It was a minimal greeting from the usually amorous vampire and yet the stance of the fellow beside her was enough to tell him anything further might not be well received. Rather, Sebastian's attention turned back to the woman he stood next to, continuing without so much missing a beat. "And you, Ceara, look absolutely delicious." He presented her with a rather warm simper, his gaze briefly drawing down the length of her dress and back upwards. She did, after all, dress to be observed, did she not? Who was he to deny such a thing? For the moment, Sebastian was entirely content to provide Ceara with his attention, nearly entirely ignoring his own maker and the woman whose hand she held.