lcblanc

[lcblanc]

It was so easy to notice, the frustration seeping into Aoife's being, growing with every second but it was the pet name that has her stopping. A brief moment of hesitation joined by surprise that almost had her gasping, had her smirk faltering on her lips. It had been years since she last heard it coming from the other's lips and the familiar rush coursing through her body had her longing to hear it once again. Softer, gentler, whispered against her skin as she has many times before. Instead, she composed herself just as fast, hoped Aoife didn't notice the short moment and keeps the smirk back in place. "Why neither, ma chérie." The pet name flowed easily from her lips, her accent as perfect as always as she looked at the other intently. "I would never dare... but you must be right, of course... many things remain unchanged even when touched by the passage of time."

The spark that ran through her body at the contact lighted all her nerves up and suddenly Narcisse felt almost as close as burning. Like a fire had been lit inside her and there wasn't hope for her to stop it. The teasing look in her eyes gone almost as easy as it appeared and instead of taking a step back and move away, she found herself rooted to her place, aching for closeness. "Yes, so I've heard." The comment was sharp, a far cry from the teasing tone from a moment before. But her smirk was back just as fast. "Oh don't gotta look so eager to get me out of here, ma chérie... guess this means I don't make it to the 'invest time in' list anymore, then?." It was asked almost as a joke but Narcisse feared an answer as much as an evasion.

Aoife grit her teeth slightly as Narcisse expertly danced around her questions, jaw clenching. Her green eyes tracing the smirk that seemed to be permanently engraved upon the french woman's face. Aoife felt a deep ache in her chest  to rid her of that smirk, she wasn’t sure however at this point if that desire was rooted in kissing her or smacking her.  “Is it a sin now to purchase your art now my darling? Or do you simply wish to view me as the sinner” Aoife returned sharply, the lilt of her accent coming out more as the frustration seeped into her voice. The old pet name slipped across her lips without a second thought. Old habits lingering on her tongue. Each moment pulling Aoife farther back into her memories.  “For as much as the world changes, much stays the same. Look at how rose’s bloom. Just as beautiful now as they were two hundred years ago” 

Aoife swallowed thickly when Narcisse actually took the book. Aoife’s fingers stretched out to briefly brush against the other’s hand as she passed over the book. The soft spark once again reignited as the skin made contact as if they had never parted. Aoife quickly retracted her hand knowing that if she continued the contact she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop touching the other women. “I am selective about my praise as well as  what and who I invest my time in. “ Aoife paused, crossing her arms in front of her holding herself tightly “Is there anything else I can assist you with today Narcisse?”

#aoife | thread

[lcblanc]

"An unquestionable truth." She lets out with a soft hum, amusement lacing her voice despite the sincerity. She follows the movements with an almost lazy attention, not really caring for the activity itself. Her head tilting just a bit to the side at the raucous sounds coming from the outside, an amused smirk reaching her lips

"It fares just fine... nothing worth mentioning." Her voice airy as she looks around, refusing to give a deeper thought to whatever was happening with Aoife at the moment. Her mind kept reeling from the short visit she made to her shop. "But of course, although you surely must know I'm not one to mingle in politics that much, rather leave all the boring stuff to Laure." Shrugging, she looks at Lucia with a smile. "I do believe, of course, that something will be done... little bird told me fellowship hunters are around."

"As if I'd ever look anything but lovely, sweetest." She laughs, licks the edge of a paper and rolls it - setting it aside. That one is for her, once she's done. There's music playing signifying the start of a girl's dance, and she hears some whoops and yells as there is - no doubt - some removal of clothing. Dogs, all of them.

"Of course, you're always more than welcome here to see the girls. Though, I must ask - how fares the, ah.." She waves her hand as if trying to remember Aoife's name, leaving it to trail off without specifying. Narcisse will understand, she's certain. "And of course, I must know what Pretorius is up to these days. Politics and the like - I'm sure you all must be considering retaliation against these.. fellows."

#lucia | threads

[lcblanc]

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Narcisse turns once more to look around the place. Letting her eyes linger in every little detail that was once placed there by a long lost witch. "At your recommendation, perhaps I will... I do have a lovely voice, I assume it'll increase some views at the very least." She turns to Laure once more, a narcissistic smile on her lips.

That only turns sharper as the words reach her ears and she hums, nodding lightly with a shrug following after. "Maybe I am... I believe if someone knows about acting one way or such, it would be yourself, after all." Taking a pause, she sighs deeply. Not giving time for a reply. "But alas... if she were so inclined in... showing her affections, she wouldn't be flirting so openly with that wretched witch."

"You should perhaps audition to voice over one of those shows that are entirely dramatic re-enactments of horrific crimes. There's something about your laissez-faire attitude that seems right up that alley." Laure continues to sip at her wine, relishing the taste of aged grapes from over a century ago. She's seen people bid away entire fortunes for a taste of such luxury, and yet there's still something so empty about it all.

However, Narcisse's confirmation draws a surprised laugh from Laure, unbidden and sharp. "And are you still about to insist to me that none of this means anything?" she raises an eyebrow at the blonde. "Because I would be remiss in not letting you know that you are acting like a petulant child."

#laure | thread

[lcblanc]

The hum that leaves her lips is soft and amused, as keen eyes follow the movement with masked attention. It's always seemed curious, to her, how little some witches need to do their bidding. "Nothing to forgive, my dear."

But her mind is already racing with the information. She knew, of course, that no good news would come from this attack... but Fellowship Hunters almost had her feeling on edge. She hums, softly, once more. "That we would... a common enemy, you'd say?."

"But as it is, I am glad to see you well... it brings me sorrow to think of missing the chance of seeing your face again." The smile is on her lips once more, cheeky as she turns to the witch. "I am sorry for the ones your kind lost, of course."

"An ungracious assumption;" She says, scooping up the stones and placing them in a clutch, and then into a bag, before she stands, knocking dust and dirt from the knees of her jeans. "I hope you'll forgive me." She looks at her, sidelong, for a moment. "I'm well enough, though I'm among the lucky; the Augury weeps for its brothers and sisters caught in that horrible business the other night."

She picks her bag up, slinging it around a shoulder and knocks long, dark locks out of her face. "Fellowship Hunters have come to Port Leiry, we would all do well to exercise great caution." A bit rich, given her loneliness, but she is confident enough to handle herself.

#apsara | threads

[lcblanc]

She hears him coming even before his voice reaches her ears, and the fragrance of his perfume does little job to cover the distinct scent of his marked blood. There's an smile on her lips as she turns to him, a charming look upon her face as she stands just as comfortable at his side as she would a friend.

"Mr. King." She greets with a cheeky tone to her voice, teasing eyes as she turns to look around the festival. "Or shall I address you as Lord? It does have a strange ring to it, one would assume. Lord King, wouldn't you agree?." Taking a sip of her wine, she gives but an elegant shrug. "I'm afraid there are few such as us, my Lord, art connoisseurs."

( @lcblanc -- at the tidal pavilion after sundown, late )

The music is too loud, and off-key. Which is modern, nowadays. Nobody likes rhythm, well performed notes. Freestyle has replaced improvisation, metal, rock. What is a pop princess, Elias wonders. Then, finally, a person of culture -- or is it?

"Mylady.", Elias greets her as he approaches, "You, here? Even though this is nothing like the good old times, eh?" There's an amused expression on his face as he takes a sip of his drink once again, humming at the burn on his tongue -- "Though they call this modern art, so I'm sure it's hard to put a grasp on it."

#elias | threads #cor.summerfest #it's perfect!

[lcblanc]

The festival seemed the same as every year... and certainly smelled the same. The greasy smell permeating the air seemed to be as traditional as the thing itself. But it was easy to blend in with so many people around, easier still to spot the ones she should be wary of.

But the smile that reaches her lips is easy, and just flirty enough as she approaches the cheery voice. "I didn't expect to be here, to be quite honest, my dear... but as it is, seems the festivities have reached even ones such as myself." A pause, as her eyes move appreciatively over the other. "Now I simply find myself glad that I did."

closed: for @lcblancwhere: summerfest vendors, after sundown

Hard to make a choice for what she wanted when nothing seemed all that appealing. The lines ahead of her were too long, the food smelled.. okay. Greasy. Fried. Spicy. It assaulted her senses, but her gaze drifted around at the people in the lines.

It would be easy.

But she's meant to be on her best behavior, is she not? Turning, she catches sight of a familiar face - blonde, pinched lips. "Narcisse." She greets with a wide grin, "I didn't expect to see you here, baby."

#lara | threads #cor.summerfest

[lcblanc]

She isn't usually one to wander about so far from the places she's so painfully familiar with. Less alone when it was something she was more than sure the Clan would take great care of. At least she knows, of all of them, Laure is careful and throughout. But she also knows, on the realistic and honest side of things, that her friend wasn't particularly in the right place at the moment.

She had hoped for loneliness in her curious wandering but she wasn't all surprised by the witches presence. It was, after all, her kind that was attacked.

"Apsara, looking lovely as always." She replies in lieu of an answer, a flirty smile on her lips as she moves ever closer. "I hope I am not... interrupting anything important."

Even though she knows, in a way, she is. She had heard the hitting sounds, could feel the magical energy and knew this to be a moment the Witch must had chose for her practices.

"But surely you must know... I rarely act out of hunger, it is terribly unbecoming, wouldn't you say?." She doesn't expect an answer as she moves around the other, an easy smile on her lips.

"No, it was simply curiosity what brought me here. But now I must ask about your well-being, since I have you here."

For: @lcblanc Where: Neutral Ground When: Why, evening, of course.

"And what, pray-tell, brings such a singular being here? Surely not the hunger, this close to Hunter territory."

It is freshly dusk, and while much of the investigation has run its course, at least with the human institutions of Port Leiry, there are those still poking about between the stone structures of Siltshore, looking for anything that might clue them into the hows or the whys, or, in Urvashi's case, the when nexts.

This course has led her from the wrecked graves and into the city proper, where she finds a small, quiet spot in which to divine her next destination, whereby she has been happened upon by one of the city's many stalkers in the night.

The Vampire echelons are often oil to the witch's water; Nature cannot abide a void, and that is precisely what those dead who walk above the soil are, life-voids, undeath seeking that which it craves.

But it is hard for her to judge anything with true harshness or finality, or to paint in such broad strokes. For every monstrous vampire there can be counted a frightened child who does not know why food is ash on their tongue or why the sun scores their skin so harshly. Those cursed by fate and not by choice are the ones who keep her tongue from condemning Vampires sight unseen.

She had been throwing stones; some polished rocks, some cut gems of little material value but of immense magical fortitude, and the presence of a vampire of age alerts her on otherwise unseen wavelengths, pulling her attention to the vampire.

"Narcisse," utters Apsara, standing from her divination and turning to the woman.

#apsara | threads

[lcblanc]

"It is one of my many talents." She responds just as dryly and despite the possibility of Laure being right. Narcisse wasn't ever someone to linger in silly hopes. Aoife could had well done a lot more than simply buying her paintings if she wanted something more. Or at least a resemblance of what they had.

Shrugging, she takes another sip of her wine, looking at her glass and lamenting just for a second of how easy it's emptying out, and how little she feels the effect of it. "As you would have it, yes... it is a book of love poems." That she hasn't started reading just yet.

Laure's only response to her friend's statement is to take a sip of wine, wondering what else she might bring up. To have Narcisse actually bring up her ex-lover of her own volition must mean something, or at least that's what she assumed. Her friend could just be dramatic.

"You have a remarkable way of making even the most mundane sound like it was a lifechanging experience," she points out dryly. "Was it a book of love poems? I can't imagine she would continue to spend such money on you if she weren't interested in at least maintaining some semblance of a relationship." She tries not to sound bitter.

#laure | thread

[lcblanc]

"Of course you did." The good-natured jest left her lips with a smirk following close behind. It wasn't a secret, something she was just finding out, almost nothing could really be between them, where time had them crossing paths more than once. And Lilia, like herself, was someone that enjoyed and reveled in self-indulgence. Something, she presumed, they had easily bonded over. "Not surprising either, considering women were always much lovelier."

But even with all their... camaraderie, Narcisse couldn't help but dislike a bit the knowing look in her friend's face, and it was only her own ability to control herself that keeps the glass in her hand from breaking. "My being here has as much to do with a green-eyed vampire, as your sudden disappearances have to do with a certain werewolf, mon amie." Taking a sip of her drink, she gave a gentle shrug. "But I suppose you're right, we would all like that." Humming, she turned back to the large window, looking down at everyone. "But that sounds lovely, how could I ever refuse?."

"Well ⸻ I did always prefer the Mona Lisa," her words are followed by a sip of her drink, eyes full on unlaced mirth watching the movement underneath. Intimacy is hard to dismiss among their kind; the claws of death and time can't reach them, and hence, they can't elude each other. The exception the few buried in crypts or graves by angry lovers or vengeful witches. It's no surprise she finds herself at ease around Narcisse, considering the woman akin to a friend. A wave of her hand informs her guards to fetch her personal blood bag of the night, blue eyes glancing at the blonde with a knowing smirk. 

"Boredom, is it? Not a certain green-eyed vampire?" She was threading murky waters, she knew. "I supposed we would all like to try a little of boredom, no?" She chuckles darkly, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. "Since you are here, would you like something fresh to eat? ⸻ Courtesy of the house. You know I save my best girls and boys for you."

#lilia | thread

[lcblanc]

She supposed, as she turned around in the aisle, that it was a question she had been expecting. Knew that Aoife wasn't simply going to let it go as a small coincidence but Narcisse wasn't about to admit that it was the way her perfume still lingered in the envelops she received. That no matter how many different minions she wanted to use to deliver the money for her... indulgence, that Narcisse would always be able to pick up her scent. That it was very well engraved in her being, something she'd never forget. Instead, she only turned back, a smirk on her lips. "Speak of the sin but not of the sinner... was the saying, right? I might be getting it wrong, lord knows things changes with the years, wouldn't you agree?."

And following with her eyes, she took every movement. Taking advantage of the back turned to her to run her eyes over her form, have a taste of the lovely perfume. Aoife's scent has always been unique to her, and Narcisse only wished for the chance to enjoy it up close once more. Run her nose alone the expanse of her and get lost in her. But when Aoife turned back, all traces of her longing are gone from her face, her smirk back in place and only the flash of surprise crossing the blue of her eyes. She remained rooted to her spot for a second and two too long before finally moving forward, closer. Her hand reaching for the offered book, longing to touch but refraining. "It does now, doesn't it? --I guess I should check that for myself." A pause. "After all, you don't give such high praises so easily, if my memory isn't failing me."

Aoife bit her lip as she watched Narcisse pace the aisle like a caged lion. The Irish women couldn’t stop wondering how it had come to this point. How the person she had trusted with every ounce of her heart suddenly felt only two steps away from a stranger. Words of duty and gratitude thrown around where words like love, and devotion once resided. It would take more than an unexpected visit to make Aoife admit to just how many hours she had spent pouring over photos of Narcisse’s art. How long she spent coaching her assistant on just how to deliver the money, stressing the need for discretion. Perhaps she didn't stress it enough. Who would she need to eat, no not eat, fire. “How exactly did you discover… my patronage?” Aoife paused mid-sentence, stumbling on the words to use. To describe what she had been doing ever since she had arrived into town more permanently.  Narcisse had always captivated Aoife. She still remembered the way she was at a loss for words the first time she had laid eyes on the artist. Even with all the years between them, Aoife still found herself stumbling when confronted with the radiance of her own personal angel.

It took everything in the raven haired vampire to not flinch at the reminder of the promises she broke. Aoife couldn’t count the number of promises she had broken when she had left that day. God above she had tried to explain, to plead, but they were both too stubborn. Alexei had been her monster to slay, along with the burdens that had come with it. Narcisse meant too much to Aoife to drag her into the tangled mess that her sire had made of her mind.  Instead of responding directly Aoife turned her back on Narcisse, scanning the rows of books with her green eyes before finally pulling out a relatively thin book of poems.  Even with her back turned she could feel the blue eyes that she dreamed of for so long follow her every movement. Aoife turned back offering the book. “I believe you might find this one quite illuminating. “  Aoife straightened her back, refusing to back down from the other women. “It makes one consider other perspectives.”

#aoife | thread

[lcblanc]

She hums in agreement. Lounging comfortably next to the other. She had been quite... a fan of the way Lucia liked to exploit the feminine power. Always in favor of using whatever means she had to get what she wanted herself. "Quite a while, but you look just as lovely." Offering a flirtatious smirk.

"I haven't, sadly... but I'm hoping, now that I'm here, that you'll be more than amenable to show them to me." Her smirk growing larger as she settles back into her chair. "Clever girls, of course, I wouldn't expect anything less when they're under your care." And men, really, for all they thought themselves superiors, were painfully easy to manipulate.

closed starter for @lcblanc

"It's been a while." Lucia says it drolly, simply, as she busies her hands with mixing the herbs brought to her by the cute little errand girl. Outside of the room they've found themselves in, the rest of her girls are dancing the night away - getting tips, getting information.

She separates herb from plant and portions them out properly. "You haven't seen the new routines yet, have you?" She murmurs, rolling up the leaves into a neat little cigarette. "I'm sure you'll be happy to find they've taken some suggestion from our patrons. More money to go around."

#lucia | threads

[lcblanc]

I assume it was your fault that Aoife left.

It's the twitching in her hands the only reaction she allows herself. A reminder to hold back, and not give into the provocation. Instead, a light smirk settles on her lips as she shakes her head slowly. "Assumptions must be getting you so far in life, I imagine." But she couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was true, and it was her fault. A thought she soon discarded.

#memes

[lcblanc]

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

HMMM... Natalie Dormer alksjdlasd. That was the first thing i decided about them. That I wanted to use her. And then... i just drew a lot of inspiration from her character Moriarty in Elementary.

#ooc #i'm a simple gays #with simple weaknesses

[lcblanc]

She can't help but roll her eyes at her friends words, turning to look around the place once more. She doesn't feel with the particular need to explain to Laure how her pride wouldn't allow for anything else to happen. Not until she was certain that Aoife wouldn't leave again. Or until she heard an apology at the very least.

Shrugging, she takes another sip. "It was a simple visit to... let her know how grateful I am for the generous amount she's been spending in my paintings, that's all." And despite the smooth reply and the softness of her voice, she needn't turn back to Laure to know she'll see right through the lie that was. "I wasn't really expecting anything else to happen." A pause, and then. "She gave me a book."

For a moment, Laure expects Narcisse to push, because her friend is a bitch in every sense of the word, but she doesn't. She lets Laure keep her lie because it's easier than dealing with an emotional vampire. Her behavior over the last several years have included some outbursts, and she finds it a useful excuse for keeping people at arm's length.

"Don't we all?" It hardly seems like living until losing something (or someone) to throw it all into sharp relief. At least Narcisse has the potential of finding her way back again. She wonders briefly if she and Kiri would have been similar, had they had the chance to experience centuries together, but she dashes that thought away just as quickly. It's pointless to dream. "Well, given that you're here before me, it appears the reunion wasn't as passionate as it could have been."

#laure | thread

[lcblanc]

nic | narcisse | lana

Make a assumption about my muse and see how they react! Anything goes!

#meme weekend

[lcblanc]

Rolling her eyes, Narcisse can only be bothered to take another sip of her wine. Letting her eyes roam about the room, taking in every single detail. Narcisse had never particularly cared about the Council, nor had she wanted to be part of it despite her time within the Clan. But she needn't be to know Laure was blatantly making up excuses.

Humming, she still took some time to set her eyes back on Laure. She had known, has her suspicions, of course, for quite a while about who was buying her art anonymously. But Narcisse hadn't felt quite up to face it, nor talk about it until now. And even still, she still has her doubts. "I have my ways." Not like she was ready to admit out loud that she still remembered the smell of her perfume and it was the same in every single enveloped. "I paid her a visit today."

"Surely you haven't forgotten that I'm also the Clan Representative, and that, in fact, is quite time-consuming," she replies back smoothly. It's not a lie, per se. When matters with the Council arise, sometimes they can take up her entire schedule, but none of those matters have arisen recently, at least not to such an extent.

But Laure is grateful that Narcisse doesn't push, even if it's obvious that she has her own opinions about Laure's habits. And the juicy bit of gossip that she drops is all she needs to change the subject. "Oh?" She's had her suspicions on who her friend's secret benefactor has been, not that she's ever brought it up. If Narcisse can refrain from mentioning Kiri unprompted, then she can do the same about Aoife. "How did you finally figure this mystery out?"

#laure | thread

[lcblanc]

The amused hum that left her lips was joined only by the arching of her lips as she looked at the other woman. She couldn't ever remember a time Aoife had sounded as formal when speaking to her as she did now. And the distance that had been between them felt crushingly big at the moment. "Well... I figured someone that's taken so much of her own time to buy so many of my pieces deserved at least a personal visit, some gratitude." Pacing around, she reached out to grab another book at random, her eyes barely skimming over the cover and back. In truth, she wasn't going to find anything in the store that would be more interesting than the woman attending to it. But Narcisse was far too proud to admit that to anyone, including herself.

"Among other things..." She spoke softly, her voice charming and smooth as she placed the book back in its place. She wouldn't tell it was her need to see the other up close, nor the burning desire to hear her voice directed at her. Despite the throbbing in her chest, she wasn't ready to let go of her anger just yet, holding onto it like a lifeline. "Is there now?... making big promises, I see..." The sharp smile in her lips could only promise trouble, and as she stepped further down the aisle, she couldn't help but throw a pointed "One you can keep, I hope?." a questioning lilt to her voice. "Any recommendations?."

Aoife turned her attention to the book in her hands, running her finger along the familiar spine. The gravity of Narcisses' presence made it hard for Aoife to get her thoughts in order. It was easier to look anywhere else in the aisle than at the familiar mischievous look in her eye. A small laugh tearing its way through her lips at the Narcisse’s side stepping the word avoidance.  Aoife shelved the final book before lifting her eyes to gaze back at the painter. Crossing her arms as she arched her eyebrow. “I feel honored that you took the time out of your busy schedule to visit Ink and Antiquity.”   Aoife wore formality like a shield, keeping the pieces that shattered over a decade ago tucked deep behind her mask. 

The anonymous purchases had been the one indulgence that Aoife had allowed herself when it came to the French women. Yet there was the creeping sense that indulgence was going to come to an end. The same dread that had been left in her stomach when she had walked away all those years ago slithered around the back of her throat, tightening like a noose. “Just your duty as an artist then?” Aoife asked, tilting her head. Desperately hoping that Narcisse would say otherwise. Aoife would bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her face schooled as naturally as she could. Centuries of keeping her emotions hidden coming into practice. “Please feel free to look around, I curate quite a bit of our selection myself. There's something for everyone tucked away in these stacks” Aoife said, tilting her chin up, half daring Narcisse to spend more time among the books.

#aoife | thread