---

 The announcement had come drifting to her through the grapevine, a grandiose celebration over the victory of Dunmeath, of the savages who made their lives there. The reminder that still felt like poison roiling in her mouth, and yet, here she found herself. The thrill and promise of danger too much for her to idly pass by. One such treat that her companion for the evening also seemed inclined not to miss, though perhaps his motives were of a different value. A hand ran through the elongated silk tresses of her lengthy locks, brushing them from the curve of her shoulder as she turned towards him with a playful simper etched upon her lips, mischief clarion within her gaze. "Looked in the mirror lately? You can't go around getting spooked by your reflection now," she purred teasingly. In truth, their mere presence here could come as an imposing danger.

Especially if something were to happen and his cover was blown.

She couldn't help the jump in her pulse as she reached for his hand, enthusiasm evident as she drug him beyond the guards with a wave of bravado. She just wanted to get inside, to lay eyes upon the lavish of the rich and powerful. To see the spoils of conquest surround her and the temptation was far beyond what she had expected. The smell of food was a decadent splendor, the overwhelming scent of iron and wine an interesting malady that assaulted her senses with a heady mixture. Eyes, still swimming with the pulsation of magic turned impishly towards the spy in the midst, a wolf in a den of wolves. A splendid sense of irony as she reached for a drink from one of the trays drifting by. Allowing the wine to freely pour over her tongue, refreshing and chilled, surely a fine year for esteemed guests. Only the finest for Lavalles aristocrats, and to make the commoner mad with jealousy, with wanting to indulge in such a life style at all times. "A few drinks and dance?"

---

speech

Dominique Tremblay

"Ten minutes, darling.  I won't be long."

And for ten long, agonizing minutes, Dominique Tremblay paced the room like a lion locked in a cage.  Wandering to and fro with his hands intertwined behind his back.  He was nervous.  He was worried. 

Parties had never been his forte.  That's why he always retreated somewhere quiet, somewhere alone, while Marianne walked the floor looking for their next vessel of entertainment.  He loathed the idea of it, but he adored the thrill in her eyes.

Despite his better judgement, Dominique went looking for her.  Among the vast sea of faces, hers didn't call to him, however, one of similar guise stood with a goblet of wine in hand.  Though it appeared she had company, he couldn't resist the urge to approach.

"A few drinks and dance?"  He didn't smile at her, didn't care to look at her partner, either.  Instead he reached out a rough hand to the lady in hopes that she'd understand the gesture.  "Shall we?"

Toriko Kizuki
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d snuck beyond the borders into the bloodsuckers domain though it wasn’t typically for such a public outing. More often than not it was a secluded meeting with one of the damned he’d come to find favor with. But this? This he wasn’t entirely certain over no matter the reassurances offered by the woman he still swore bore the name Camellia. A lady of the church and not the wild sorceress which stood at his side now. And yet, he hardly found room for complaint as a short huff of laughter fled at the witch’s tone.

“Do not fret Eva,” the name felt strange upon his tongue though it was the calling insisted, “I am not that forgetful.” Though there was uncertainty on if he would ever truly be used to seeing a face not his own resting where something familiar should have been but it was a needed precaution. A false visage, an alias to place upon it - he was used to playing such games for his work - it would be no different here. Stories could be concocted, a reason as to being for names of those with an unquestionable existence were held. He would merely have to hope such tales were believable should it come down to it.

Hopefully a night would remain relatively uneventful. They could have their fun and return to the land of wolves without any near death experiences.

Steps passed easily by the guard, sparing him but a glance as if offering silent greeting while Eva tugged him along. The sights and scents of the evening unable to be ignored before they had even crossed the threshold. Decadence bathed in the underlying perfumes of blood, a sharpness which rang clearer when particular carted trays drifted past. Care is taken in which glass it snatched before the brilliance of an artificial stare held upon the woman. Lips parting - “Can’t say no to that,” - a phrase which never got the chance to leave his chest as the darkened presence of another intrudes upon their space.

Briefly attentions flickered to the sorceress, meeting her gaze for but a moment before his own would drift without question to the unknown. Plans had been made to remain at one another’s side so long as they found themselves within the chateau. Such arrangements would hardly be broken now, however, they would not stop the way a hand slid atop the damned in place of one asked so flatly. His softened touch a sharp contrast to the roughness of the vampire’s own.

Teasing smile decorated the goat’s lips, “Why of course monsieur, you must be desperate! I can’t imagine you get any dances with such a stiff act. But I simply must ask,” lyrics found pause as a hand sought to guide him in, “Do you make a habit of stealing away another’s date?” Despite the tone taken there is a mark of seriousness held in the way eyes lingered on this stranger, how they refused to stray from his own gaze. A point made clear, “We came together. You dance with both or neither of us.”

---

"Speaking" ✧ 'Thinking'