Lots to discuss (Victor) - Henri's Penthouse

She set the table, glasses for tasting, bottles to sample.  Her company was coming soon, and this was going to be a special night.  Candles were lit and placed on the mantle, the end tables, the window sills.  There is a fire roaring in the fireplace, and all the other lights are off.  It just manages to not be romantic, as there are no flowers of any kind anywhere to be seen.

She is dressed in a simple black velvet dress, embroidered at the bust and down the sleeves and the hem of the dress.  Black roses.  Once everything was set up, she waited for him to arrive.

His arrival was signaled by a knock upon the door, exactly at the appointed hour of nine.

His attire unchanged from any other night, the only exception that his robes were freshly washed, thus lacking the scent of dried blood that normally accompanied them. In one hand his ever present cane holding him stable where he stood, in the other a leather bandoleer containing several sealed earthen jars.

His cowl hung low as he looked down in thought, of what this evening could entail, of likely reactions to conversation. He would work thru every possible scenario, a practice long ingrained into his psyche. He did this regardless of the fact that in any moment of decision he would act not from logic but on instinct. Such was the dichotomy of his soul.

She answered the door, her usual scent wafting out into the hall.

"Victor, thank you for coming."

She stepped back, motioning for him to enter. Welcoming him into what was obviously her home.

Looking up at the sound of her voice, the slightest of smiles forming.

"It would be rude to ignore such an invitation."

As she stepped back, he nodded out of courtesy then proceeded inside, cane resonating lightly upon the floor. His gaze circleing the room as he assessed his surroundings, satisfying both curiosity and elder paranoia.

The room had plenty of exits, large windows, and open space. A couch and two chairs with end tables between. The candles all over the place. And pillows on the floor between the coffee table and the fireplace.

She closed the door, then brushed past him, arm touching his, to lead the way to the table.

"You don't fool me. You can choose to be rude very easily. So I am happy that you chose not to be."

Eyes folllowing her movement past, "I can be, yet rarely is it done without reason. You have given me no reason as of late." A wry smile

Following behind her, focused upon her neck, at the way it telegraphed her bodies movements. "I must admit, I am curious what your tastes are these nights."

She turned to look over her shoulder at him with a bright smile.

"I think you will approve. I am very much into fear and despair these days."

She moved to the couch, settling down on her knees between it and the coffee table. Her hands settled on her thighs as she looked up to him, to see where he would sit.

Moving to her side, he placed the leather bandoleer upon the coffee table before moving himself upon the couch, his leg pressed lightly along her shoulder. As he sat he pulled his cowel back, so she might see him more clearly. She was one of the few he offered such tribute.

Eyes meeting hers. "What brings you to covet fear and despair so ?"

Cane hand still holding rigid, his free hand reached out to her and lightly caressed her hair in a single swipe before finding rest on the couch thumb still offering contact with her shoulder.

She turned her head to look up at him. Giving him the higher position didn't seem to bother her at all. Her smile was somewhat cruel.

"The world is a cruel place. I learned that the night that Gavin was killed under my hands. I was right there, and could do nothing. I feel this desire to cause this feeling in others. And I have found that it tastes divine."

There was a joy in his eyes that grew as she spoke. Most never understood the true feeling of loss and the desires that grew from it.

Understanding was in his eyes, and passion to his words. "There is true pleasure, in invoking heights of emotion in others."

"All should experience, what we have felt."

She brought her arms up as she turned further, crossing them and resting her chin on them as she rested them on his leg.

"I agree. It would weed out those who are too weak."

Yes, she was now pressing against his leg, and looking up at him with bright eyes.

Thumb caressing her shoulder with an unconcious affection.

"And the world will be better for its cleaning." His normal spite and anger at the world absent from his words. He was calm, at peace with his violence. Here with her, he did not have to display, he could just be.

Their past love, recent dispute and current reunion had revealed a truth to him, a truth that still sat nameless.

Her smile was still slightly cruel as she leaned back, reaching for a pair of glasses.

"And what a world it will be, with the right hands to guide it."

She set the glasses closer and reached for a bottle.

"I bottled this one myself, from one of my girls."

Watching the bottle as she brought it closer. A curious expectation in his eyes.

"I do hope she was properly inspired at the moment of its extraction." A subtle jest as he knew she would not offer him something less.

She smiled as she popped the cork and poured two glasses.

"It was extracted mere minutes after she had her first sexual experience. She is eleven years old. I cater to special needs."

She handed him his glass with a smile.

Receiving the glass, swirling it in his hand, watching the nuance of its fluidity.

"Children have a beautiful way of clinging so tightly to the emotions experience."

Bringing the glass closer, he inbibed its fragrence.

She smiled and sipped lightly at her glass, eyes closing as it touched her tongue.

"Oui, they do. And it tastes ever so much better than adults."

"A shame they contain so much less."

Raising the glass to his lips, rolling out his tongue to draw the smallest of fragments from the glass into his mouth, where his training and experience sussed out evey nuance of flavor and experience held within it.

Only once he had savored the blood cerebrally, did he finally allow some of the blood down his throat and experience it emotionally.

"The loss of innocence, is so... precious."

She savored her glass, smiling.

"So very precious. And it is not only once that they lose it, but the rest are not as potent."

"That is in part why I have cultivated the blood of our own. On occasion the potency of kindred vitae is all that can satisfy." A knowing expression.

She smiled and put her glass down, leaning further into his lap.

"Oui, that is true. But it does not hold the same palate that the mortals can produce."

"Indeed, the kine are far more... maliable, and so much easier to get fresh."

Looking down towards her, a spark of affection in his eyes.

She smiled.

"It is true. But even kindred blood gets boring."

"Indeed, that is why I have persued the ever more exotic. Even when the taste is not always pleasant, the experience is exilerating."

A hand reaching out to caress the bandoleer he had brought. "Have you ever tasted the blood of other supernatural creatures?"

Her eyes followed his hand as it moved to caress his offering.

"I have not had the opportunity. The last time I was near a werewolf, it was truce. Not the time to take of their blood."