[Serafina] A sort of scene
ooc: Bah. Can't get this to flow right. I can get into the headspace for this pc but just can't make it come out on paper the way I want. I'll have to relook at logs later and re-edit this I think. I promise to the person impatiently waiting on me that I"ll get it done by next week some time. I'm bringing logs with me so I can edit things. : )
There was a long moment when she hadn't noticed the beating of fists, the gasping and whimpering. Even the stomp by stiletto’s on her instep went unnoticed. The woman being held against the wall couldn't get the breath to scream, not with a dead hand firmly clasped over the wind pipe. Somewhere in the distance there was someone on a porch or backyard playing guitar, likely a grandfather of some sort in this neighborhood. The wind picked up, warm and dry this far inland, and with the occasional shouting in Spanish, the guitar played by unprofessional hands, and the smell of many poor living so close... it was reminiscent of Buenos Aires. A train rumbled by and it was moments before Serafina remembered that she held a now only limply fighting woman against a brick wall.
"Mm. Yes. I believe I was going to give you the chance to explain to me, xochota, exactly why you don't have the coke." the grip on the woman's throat loosened enough for her to inhale deeply, frantically and then she was off, speaking rapidly in Portuguese. There was an issue with the supplier, the police, the federalis, a thousand apologies and so on. The words were less important to Serafina than the emotions and control. There was a pressure behind her eyes, the beginnings of the beast moving just beneath the skin. What had he asked, "Do you receive pleasure from physical contact as I do?" something along those lines. His voice was low and curious, perhaps unsure he would want the answer as he tightened his fingers over her hand.
She'd stumbled over the explanation, too high and out of her element to do it justice. Besides, did one really wish to tell a pillar of the Tower how intoxicating the beast was? He seemed to be asking about the pleasures of the bedroom and she was talking about a much more visceral pleasure. The Camarilla stood for Humanitas; increasing the private thrill of playing the part of the delightful monster. There was a thrill there, in the dance of words and beast with Kage. He'd slipped it seemed, for she understood him better than she understood most vampires. As she'd explained the beast had shifted beneath the skin, like a second creature tiring of wearing the human skin clothes. There was little need for physical contact, when the Id was so closely tied to Ego.
The human kept babbling away trying to explain the lapse and Serafina studied her reflection in the terror widened eyes. Pale yes, but she still had the glimmer of health that allowed her to blend visually with a bit more ease among humans. Experimentally smiling it looked to Serafina an unnatural expression, a human response on an inhuman face. But it seemed to be enough for the woman held up, the talk slowed a bit as the prey watched the predator smile politely. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he catch the undertone when she tried to explain her passions? He had asked about how she meant passion, was the definition being used the true one rooted in suffering?
"You, how would you explain to a man that you preferred the role of the centurion crucifying someone to the role of the sufferer of Passion?" the words came out idly, honey sweet, eliciting only stammering from the human. Her mind drifted away again, remembering the control needed to hold down the blooded brandy and the shine in his eyes as they circled around points of conversation. He would be her illusion and cover, the Prince who cared not that someone had thrown away their humanity in a sect that prized such. She would play the humane, the social flake that seemed to be what made up the majority of the female members of the clan. "Useless." The statement confused the human further; Serafina found the expression amusing and decided on a whim to be 'kind and humane' or at least as best as she could.
Leaning in close, her breath warm on a flushed ear, "I will be kind. Have it later tonight for me, I know you would not want to disappoint me again, eh?" her fangs were dropping, this close to a source of blood laced with cocaine.
"I hear your child will start school next fall, Eduardo is his name, yes?" Inhaling deeply of the new surge of fear and terror she let her voice fall further, throaty as she allowed the gifts of her clan to radiate out from her. It would be poor to spoil the taste of the fear and the drugs in her system with something like needing to run from the police.
"Shush. I will spare you now just bring it and I will have money for you, a little extra to buy Eduardo some ice cream perhaps?" There, that was not terribly difficult and what child did not like the idea of ice cream. This mimicking humanity may be less difficult than it seemed; she considered that thought while taking her evening payment in blood.
There was a long moment when she hadn't noticed the beating of fists, the gasping and whimpering. Even the stomp by stiletto’s on her instep went unnoticed. The woman being held against the wall couldn't get the breath to scream, not with a dead hand firmly clasped over the wind pipe. Somewhere in the distance there was someone on a porch or backyard playing guitar, likely a grandfather of some sort in this neighborhood. The wind picked up, warm and dry this far inland, and with the occasional shouting in Spanish, the guitar played by unprofessional hands, and the smell of many poor living so close... it was reminiscent of Buenos Aires. A train rumbled by and it was moments before Serafina remembered that she held a now only limply fighting woman against a brick wall.
"Mm. Yes. I believe I was going to give you the chance to explain to me, xochota, exactly why you don't have the coke." the grip on the woman's throat loosened enough for her to inhale deeply, frantically and then she was off, speaking rapidly in Portuguese. There was an issue with the supplier, the police, the federalis, a thousand apologies and so on. The words were less important to Serafina than the emotions and control. There was a pressure behind her eyes, the beginnings of the beast moving just beneath the skin. What had he asked, "Do you receive pleasure from physical contact as I do?" something along those lines. His voice was low and curious, perhaps unsure he would want the answer as he tightened his fingers over her hand.
She'd stumbled over the explanation, too high and out of her element to do it justice. Besides, did one really wish to tell a pillar of the Tower how intoxicating the beast was? He seemed to be asking about the pleasures of the bedroom and she was talking about a much more visceral pleasure. The Camarilla stood for Humanitas; increasing the private thrill of playing the part of the delightful monster. There was a thrill there, in the dance of words and beast with Kage. He'd slipped it seemed, for she understood him better than she understood most vampires. As she'd explained the beast had shifted beneath the skin, like a second creature tiring of wearing the human skin clothes. There was little need for physical contact, when the Id was so closely tied to Ego.
The human kept babbling away trying to explain the lapse and Serafina studied her reflection in the terror widened eyes. Pale yes, but she still had the glimmer of health that allowed her to blend visually with a bit more ease among humans. Experimentally smiling it looked to Serafina an unnatural expression, a human response on an inhuman face. But it seemed to be enough for the woman held up, the talk slowed a bit as the prey watched the predator smile politely. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he catch the undertone when she tried to explain her passions? He had asked about how she meant passion, was the definition being used the true one rooted in suffering?
"You, how would you explain to a man that you preferred the role of the centurion crucifying someone to the role of the sufferer of Passion?" the words came out idly, honey sweet, eliciting only stammering from the human. Her mind drifted away again, remembering the control needed to hold down the blooded brandy and the shine in his eyes as they circled around points of conversation. He would be her illusion and cover, the Prince who cared not that someone had thrown away their humanity in a sect that prized such. She would play the humane, the social flake that seemed to be what made up the majority of the female members of the clan. "Useless." The statement confused the human further; Serafina found the expression amusing and decided on a whim to be 'kind and humane' or at least as best as she could.
Leaning in close, her breath warm on a flushed ear, "I will be kind. Have it later tonight for me, I know you would not want to disappoint me again, eh?" her fangs were dropping, this close to a source of blood laced with cocaine.
"I hear your child will start school next fall, Eduardo is his name, yes?" Inhaling deeply of the new surge of fear and terror she let her voice fall further, throaty as she allowed the gifts of her clan to radiate out from her. It would be poor to spoil the taste of the fear and the drugs in her system with something like needing to run from the police.
"Shush. I will spare you now just bring it and I will have money for you, a little extra to buy Eduardo some ice cream perhaps?" There, that was not terribly difficult and what child did not like the idea of ice cream. This mimicking humanity may be less difficult than it seemed; she considered that thought while taking her evening payment in blood.