Cible (Succubus)

[Vincent Vige]

Vein rarely entered 'the club scene', so to speak, unless he was forced to attend a charity event, was looking over one of the clubs he personally owned, or he was looking for one of the Destined members. For the moment, it was the last option. He wasn't always very subtle, he had to admit. He had seen the occassional magazine or paper with a picture of a body riddled with marks that he knew he'd caused.

There was a slight difference between him and the rest of the Destined though. He didn't leave fingerprints, and if he did, they weren't his. He didn't come close to resembling himself... around the same height, but that'd be about it. He'd be a blonde or maybe a redhead at the time. He'd be black, asian, latino. He wouldn't be him.

However, when men went missing, and they could give the police your description for who it was that they left with. Sure she didn't leave much of a body. However, just the disappearences were enough. It was also his experience that an accent, especially French, made you rather noticiable. His regular accent was a bit undescernable. He rarely used it though. He didn't care that he was from Romania, and didn't care to return to the castle anytime soon.

He entered the club, one of the hipper ones, in what was the style of the time, and he saw several other people wearing the same outfit. He didn't personally like it... to tight, even if he got rid of every piece of body fat and muscle on his body. Not that it really mattered to him, he was used to working with little oxygen. He did it a lot.

He walked over to the bar, next to a woman and ordered a drink. He was older than he looked... his birth certificate, that he'd forged, said he was 23. He was actually almost twice that. However, he didn't need to drain people's life force to keep his looks forever. He would be living for a very long time.

"Looking for your prey?" he asked Succubus, taking a look at the selection of alcohol behind the counter as he did so.

((Just so you know, the bold is supposed to be French. If you speak it, bravo. I do not, and I'd rather not search for an hour for the translations to everything ^^))

[Christina De La Croix]

Succubus sat on a barstool, leaning on the bar with a drink held daintily in one hand taking small sips every now and then. Her outfit wasn’t as nearly as flashing as she normally had. A fairly simple red dress suited her tonight. Turning round on the stool, she cast a slow glance at the faces of the male fraternity inhabiting the club she had chosen to meet a certain person.

She didn’t know why. Earlier that week she had already ‘fed’ and there was no need to find someone else. Not unless she wanted to make herself that much stronger, of course. And that was a place she didn’t want to go. Stronger lead to being hungrier and needing more fuel to power the stronger self. One gets sloppy, doesn’t clean up. Then ends up where she doesn’t want to be. Dead. But. All the while at the moment, there wasn’t much to worry about, or so she may think.

That was if, of course. She had methods, strategies, ways. Bored of contemplating to hard, she began to circle the top of the glass with her index finger, the glass vibrating under it and letting out a high note. Quickly getting bored of that, she finished her drink and left it for now. Sure it wasn’t like she couldn’t get drunk, it was more like she didn’t want to look like. Swivelling back in her chair, she eyed the people at the bar. Looked like she was the only one trying to look discreet. Which for her, was the only time she really wanted no attention.

Like it was working.

Well, you couldn’t have it all, could you? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed whom she was meeting take his seat beside her. She waited for him to speak for a brief moment, before she would turn and greet him, out of the courtesy that had been almost beaten into her when she was a girl.

Her eyebrows arched and her lips parted slightly in surprise, then shaped into a smile, showing her full set of pearly whites. ”What brought you to that conclusion?”

Despite the surprised tone she had in her voice, Christina knew it was a rhetorical question, on her part, of course.[/center][/color]

[[Naw, I was kind of hoping you didn’t speak it either, or I’d have to find some translators myself. xD]]

[Vincent Vige]

((It means Prey in French (the title) In case you were wondering))

Vein's eyes drifted over the alcohol. To the untrained eye it would seem like a high class selection. His own search revealed there was one bottle that was even close to top shelf. And even it was barely above Rotga. One of the many reasons he stocked his own nightclub with a nice private selection of his own alcohol's for his Heart Attack drink.

Called such because anyone other than him who decided to drink it would be dead of alcohol poisoning after finishing more than a glass. He rolled his eyes and drifted to the strongest thing they had, not that it would affect him. There we are.... he thought, spotting a bottle of scottch hidden behind a few others. Looked to be from the fifties.... Shifting flawlessly from accentless French to accentless English, he motioned to the bartender. "I'll have a glass of scottch, and not from the ratty little bottle you've got over there. From the good one down at the end of the bar."

He pointed out the bottle he meant, and the woman gulped, moving down the bar to get it. His tone told her not to argue and to just do it. Which was a good thing on her part, seeing as he could get annoyed rather easily. Things didn't go so well when he was annoyed. Not at all.

He shifted back to French and looked over at her again. "Because you are you, and you're at a club. A simple assumption. But seeing as you're not dressed in one of your outfits with the plunging neckline I'd say you're trying to avoid attention this evening." Vein was a very good read of people.

Point out someone random in the street, and just by looking at them he could tell you most of the things about them. Most Destined, when introduced to them, got there life stories told to them before they even opened their mouths. The advantages of being able to control ever aspect of his own body. He could analyze everything about a person with what would seem to be a quick glance. It also granted him a photographic memory.

"I'm afraid, seeing as I chose not to disguise myself this evening, that will be rather unlikely. This country is ruled by the tabloids and I believe we shall be on the cover of at least one of them tomorrow."[/b]