The New Neighbors at Redhill House (IC)

IC: Thomas Dennison

The Sun was setting and the gates opened to allow the guests inside the grounds of the mansion. The men-apparently serveants of some sort to the new owners of Redhill house-were dressed as Eunichs straight out of Aladdin or Arabian nights. They began accepting the invitations and ushering the people to look on the extravagant garden and front exterior of the mansion.

Thomas Dennison climbed out of his old red VW bug he had parked across from the mansion in front of Old lady Jenkin's house at the corner of Darrow Lane and Redhill Street that morning to keep an eye on the place. OLd Lady Jenkins had bitched about it to him but nothing more than an hour of her annoying empty threats to hose him off her property. He was glad to find that the crazy old bat had paid heed to his advice and wasn't going to the party-if only some of the other neighbors listened to him about his bad feeling about these new owners of Redhill house.

He limped across the street to join the throng of his neighbors straightening out his old tuxedo. With it on and his hair slicked back he made a good likeness of James Bond-Sean Connery-the only Bond as far as Tom would ever be concerned-though he doubted Bond would ever be so un-debonair-like to ever show up at such a shindig with a ketchup stain on his only good suit from eating his lunch in the cramped confines of an old red VW bug.

Once again he wiped at the red stain on his lapel and cursing that damned ketchup packet. That and several hours of wasted surveilance of the old house hadn't improved his mood in the slightest. He'd watched the house all day and until an hour ago when the serveants arrived at the front gate he couldn't tell if anyone had moved in to it-cemetaries had more life in them than this house during the day.

Still, it didn't hinder his gut feeling about these new people. He'd first gotten it seeing those black cars with windows tinted black move down the main street of their subdivision and through the gates he was walking through now. He had no proof of course, no evidence what so ever, but something about these people wasn't right-wasn't on the up and up-and Tom was determined to find out what.

The serveants only heightened that gut feeling. They never spoke more than what was necessary, never anything more than a "This way please," when someone wanted to stop to smell the flowers or oggle the statues in the fountain in front of the mansion's front door. They just did their jobs like a robot or slave with little or no emotion on their face. It made that gut feeling Tom had about these people do somersaults and jumping jacks screaming "Something's not right here."

He stayed at the back of the group as they entered the house and was led through a long hallway to a huge fucking ballroom-the grand old gilded kind from castles and palaces in Europe not little old pissant Redhill Meadows subdivision.

So where were the proprieters of the house?

To one side was a table with various high-class party foods-canapes, Patte', and those disgusting tiny gourmet finger sandwiches. A Band of men similar to the vacant robotic men who ushered them inside started playing a waltz. Some of the more foolish of his neighbors started dancing. Tom began to investigate his surroundings. surveying the room noting the balcony above and a chair like a fucking throne for a fucking king at the far end of the room.

Something wasn't right here, he knew it, he just didn't know what yet, but he could smell the wrongness he just needed to find the garbage swept under the rug. Tom saw a wet bar and stepped up to it and giving his killer Connery imitation, "Vodka Martini, shaken not stirred."

The bartender didn't flinch, didn't smile, didn't laugh, didn't even bat an eye at the flawless Connery delivery. He just began to make him the martini he asked for.

Tom blinked, What red-blooded male on Earth didn't respond to James Fucking Bond yea or nay. He took the finished drink and sipped it looking twice at it. There was something off about its taste.

"Tell me," He asked the man, "When are we going to see your employer?"

The bartender pointed to the balcony, "The master will reveal himself to you now."

IC: Lucian

"How do I look," He said as the serveant finished adjusting his costume to the assembled members of his coven. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and cloak, face plastered with cake make-up, and hair slicked back like Bela Legosse's Dracula-a heavy handed ironic joke but an apt one, and it would mean he'd be able to show off his fangs and the poor little fearful sheep below would think it merely another facet of the costume rather than the truth.

He'd seen and done everything in the many millenia he had walked the face of the earth and such games were among the few things remaining that truly amused him now. He reveled in the teasing, titilating, stalking game and the shocked expression on their prey's faces when the truth was finally made apparent to them before he drank their life's blood from their veins. Such was the few amusements left to him now.

Another serveant entered and knelt before them, "Masters, the guests await in the ballroom."

"Has the sun set," He asked barely paying the lifeless husk of a man any notice as he adjusted the droop of his costume's cloak.

"Forty-five seconds ago, Master."

"Then we will go look upon our assembled meals," He stated leading the way down the second floor's hallway to the balcony overlooking the ball room. His eyes raked over the assembled examples of humanity. One or two caught his interest and made his fangs itch and that implacable hunger deepen for the first time in years. He smiled, again an action he hadn't made in years.

"So many to choose from," He whispered with a glint to his companions, "We may become gluttons by morning."

He waved a hand out and immediately the band stopped.

"I am Lucian, the new owner of this property and these are my companions," He gestured to the others around him, "Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

After they had finished making their introductions he began to make for the staircase down to the ballroom floor. "Please continue dancing, make merry. Mi casa es su Casa."

"Go, mingle, have fun, and play with your food." He told his coven-members.

Ivory stared up at the house and a small smile curved her lips. Getting ready for the party had been a lot of fun. The shopping, the hair, the make-up, the mask. It all came together for her right down to the props. She'd dressed as Athena in a toga of pale grey silk (supposedly the color of Athena's eyes) wrapped with a silver cord about the waist and under her breasts. Her hair was swept up into a riot of curls and crowned with a filigree olive branch. On the right shoulder of the toga was a jeweled broach in the shape of an owl. To cap it off she had a sword (dull but real, from a collection her father had had before he died) belted at her waist and her mask was reminiscent of a Spartan warrior's helmet.

Walking up to follow the other guests into the house she let the servants herd her inside but that didn't stop her from admiring the scenery around her. The place seemed lovingly cared for but somehow cold at the same time. Maybe it was the abundance of night blooming flowers that gave that feeling, the garden would look terribly sparse during the day.

The inside was amazing! Her own home was furnished nicely but her parents had been more about comfort and this place was opulent! She loved it. She prowled through the open rooms, exploring and waving to the neighbors she saw but not stopping to talk to anyone while she let her curiosity run free.

If she got to meet owner of this fabulous house she was going to have to compliment him on it. It was beautiful.

As she was thinking that the band stopped and she, and everyone else, looked up to see a man dressed like something out of a Bela Lugosi movie. In fact he looked incredibly like that man's Dracula. The similarity was amazing.

"I am Lucian, the new owner of this property and these are my companions," He gestured to the others around him, "Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

So this was the man she'd have to look for later, she had to compliment him on his home and the grounds.

Sophia stood uncomfortably picking at her tightly wound bodice as Lucian’s servants made final adjustments to his costume. She gazed around the room, over the faces of her brothers and sisters as they fussed and giggled over their costumes. She stood silent, absorbing the mass array of colour that was usually absent from her new life. If it were under any other circumstance Sophia would have rejoiced in the festivities, yet tonight was nothing to be joyful of.

Despite the laughter, the room was filled with a violent energy, each vampire radiating their inner desires of sinful, lustful, deadly play. Sophia gulped down her growing anxiety and followed as the group moved towards the balcony. Her position at the back of the group shrouded her from the curious eyes of Lucian’s guests. The energy around her seemingly buzzed with excitement. She watched closely as each member of her coven looked over the ballroom floor, each noting vulnerable prey. A sense of disgust flowed over her. Not 9 years ago she was one of the vulnerable…a human. Now, her own kind, what she had become, scorned for game, sexual conquest and food from them. "Was it really so easy for them to forget what they used to be?" She thought to herself.

Sophia sighed and turned from the group, catching her phoenix reflection in the mirror. Her small, slim figure was draped in a soft, cream satin strapless gown. Streams of translucent cloth dyed blood red and gold delicately flowed from her rounded hips to glide endlessly over the floor, flashing her perfectly pedicured feet that nestled in a pair of golden strapped stilettos. Her breasts peaked above an overly extravagant bodice, threads of gold and red intricately embroided amongst small gems over the cream material. Her ash blonde locks braided loosely over her bare, left shoulder; small gold and red feathers dexterously placed throughout. Her face intricately painted with glittering gold and red; her deep emerald eyes shimmering from behind the painted mask.

A small smile crept to her lips as she studied the irony in the mirror before her. Her costume of a phoenix seemed to reflect her own view of her new life. Was she meant to rise from the ashes of death to live once more? Before she could finish her thoughts Sophia was gently pulled to the front of the group, taking her first view of the guests below. The anxiety in her stomach grew as she glanced at the faces below; the discomfort turning into hunger, her fangs itching with need, her head dizzy with all the new sensations the humans projected upon her.

"Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

“Cosima…Cosima Giordano…” She spoke gently and sweetly, curtsying before moving back to allow the others their introduction.

Lucas Darrett walked around the crowed ballroom, his limp quite pronounced, as he weaved through the crowd, his intense green eyes taking in all the gawking "lookie-loos" whose curiousity had gotten the better of them, wanting to see the new neighbors' house. He stood in the ballroom with all the others dancing around and having a good time, and he couldn't help but smile in a self-depreciating manner at the irony.

"Great," he thought bitterly, running his hand through his auburn hair. He looked down at his leg, the awkward brace hidden under his jeans as it supported his still recuperating knee.

"Yeah, I don't think my dance card is going to be too awfully full," he mumbled to himself.

Lucas missed being able to move as he once did...he had been a football star, the star running back in high school, and then college, before a helmet to the knee had pretty much ended his football career before it began. Still, it wasn't the football he missed so much, or the cheering crowds, or even the women that had thrown themselves at him when he'd been in college.

It was his own athletic prowress, the ability to not only move, but to do it and be faster...better than his competition. In his prime he'd been able to weave and dodge through defensive lines like a snake weaving through the underbrush. He'd been fast, able to run like the wind. He had always been proud of his athletic ability....but as the old saying goes, "Pride cometh before a fall."

He looked down at his "gimpy" leg. "Now," he thought, "I'm fucking pathetic."

Lucas had been depressed ever since the accident...the loss of mobility, the surgeries, being confined to a bed while recuping, the physical therapy, and most telling, the loss of his freedom, and having to again as an adult, live with his parents and having them interfere with his life.

His parents were the reason why he was here tonight. He hadn't wanted to come, to what he figured would be nothing more than a silly costume party that the neighbors would use as an excuse to see what was going on up here, look at the furnishings with envy, and then go home where they would then proceed to spend their savings trying to "keep up with the Joneses", so to speak. This neighborhood was filled with alot of pretentious, stuck-up snobs, as far as he was concerned. His parents bought into it fully however, and had browbeat him into coming.

His father didn't know how to handle Lucas's depression after his injury, and had made mention of the fact that he "hadn't done a goddamn thing since you got back home except for sitting around watching TV" and had also mentioned that "bad knee or not, no son of his was gonna be a worthless lay-about."

His mother was a bit more sensitive about things, saying that he "was a young man, and shouldn't be cooped up in the house all the time." She'd also kept impressing on him that he "might meet a pretty young girl up there at the fancy house." Lucas also knew however, that his mother was an extremely proficient gossip, and would be questioning him when he got back, asking about the furnishings and such, just so she could call her friends up, so they could cluck like a bunch of old hens, complaining about the "audacity the new neighbors had, showing off such fancy things and rubbing it into everyone's faces."

He had come just to escape the oppresive nature of their house, not because he'd wanted to be HERE specifically. His mother had clucked at him as well, when he hadn't dressed up, and only put his football jersey on, worried about the impression he'd make with the neighbors. As he had limped out the door, his reply had been simple, before slamming the door behind him...

"I don't give a flying FUCK what the neighbors think..."

So, here he was, standing around with a bunch of neighbors he barely knew, and probably wouldn't like if he DID, in a stranger's house, at a costume party full of people, where he still felt totally alone.

He had to admit, though, the place was fancy...even more so than he had expected. Fine furnishings, beautiful wall hangings, stylish layout...whoever owned the place had class, he had to admit.

It was then, that the band suddenly stopped, and Lucas heard a voice boom out over the crowd.

"I am Lucian, the new owner of this property and these are my companions," He gestured to the others around him, "Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

"Vampire costume," Lucas thought, rolling his eyes a bit in sarcastic amusement, "how fucking original...and apparently it's a mixer too. Next thing ya know, they'll be trying to sell us a timeshare or something.."

He chuckled to himself at the thought. Still, the guy put out a nice spread...the food looked delicious. Lucas shrugged, and headed over to a large table of hors d’oeuvres. He'd stay for a bit, eat something, and then get the hell out of here...

Duvessa lurched as one of the servants pulled her corset tight, it was the mere tug at it that had her moving as she’d not breathed an iota of oxygen in centuries. She wore an elegant silk gown fashioned in the 17th century though no one would think it as old because she took great care of her things.

She sighed as the servant released her and she smoothed the blood red gown, fixing her ebony tresses with tidy pins until each curl was off her face and framed it neatly. Her black heels hidden by the gown’s length as she finally held her mask in a single hand, it was beautiful with blood red plumage and a tasteful amount of glitter. She held it to her eyes and exited her room, wandering out onto the balcony where the others gathered already.

She surveyed the room; her fangs retracted neatly and tucked themselves away so that her tongue flickered to lick her ruby red lips uninhibited. The smell of so much tension and excitement in the air had her nearly dizzy with lust but she’d long since learnt restraint knowing what she was capable of if she ever got out of hand. Duvessa stood off to Lucian’s far right side as he introduced himself to the guests, her hazel eyes seeping gold for a moment before she blinked to control herself; all the sounds and smells were getting to her.

"Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

She watched Sophia go first and sighed softly as she stepped forward, her tone dull and uninterested, “Duvessa D’Silvio.” She said shortly as she back stepped and moved to the staircase.

She pulled her skirts up and seemed to near glide as she walked, her ears caught what Lucian told them but she merely ignored him as though he’d not spoken. Too many parties over the centuries and far too many of his games and warnings left her yawning after a time so she very much hoped this evening held some interest to her. Though there had been that one in 1600’s that had been most enjoyable, the 1500’s hadn’t held nearly as much allure for her.

Dove gracefully wandered out onto the floor without so much as a backward glance to the rest, her ears caught murmured conversation from those she walked past but it was inside their minds that she longed to be. Her interest was held in seeing history and memories through humans but without more contact she wasn’t able to do so. It was unlikely that any of this lot would actually manage to spike her intrigue but the temptation to Duvessa was far too great to pass up the opportunity to find out. Besides, she would soon need to sate her baser instincts and desires.

Ava Muir

Ava had been teeming with excitement from the moment Lucian announced they would host a party to get to know their neighbors; she loved playing the part of hostess. In fact, unlike like most of her kind she loves humans and more than simply for sustenance. During the centuries she traveled with her sire he had taught her to blend among them and enjoy their intrigues and petty squabbles. He had molded a will full Scottish woman from the Highlands into a refined lady who men adored and she happily allowed them to believe it was they who seduced her. It was Lucian’s fondness for such games with humans, which attracted her to join his coven. Though as times changed the clothing became less elaborate and parties tended to be thrown for smaller circles of friends, so Ava has taken to roaming the nightclubs when she felt the need to mingle among the living.

Tonight’s gathering however reminds her of days long past, so she favors a bit of her past this evening. The gown a corset of cornflower blue damask silk with a brocade of wine tapestry covering the front laces and accented with thin silver rope woven back and forth around filigree silver buttons. The shift beneath is of cream satin, sleeves fit her upper arms before belling out at the elbows the hems stitched with a matching blue thread. The overskirt, wine satin silk, is split open in the front showing off the ankle length shift beneath which is embroidered with delicate vines and leaves swirling their way up towards her waist. Ava fussed with her auburn waves – up, down, up and left it that way; the curls piled atop of her head decorated with several sterling daisies and a few tendrils falling loose down the sides of her face and nape of her neck. A fixed to her face is an eye mask made of the same material as the corset tiny rose pearls outline the edge; the lids of her eyes painted a royal blue accentuating her chocolate brown eyes and pallid complexion. A touch of glitter and sweep of rose across her cheeks she is ready to meet their guests.

Joining the others on the balcony the vibrant woman, who never lost her lust for life, glides to the railing peering at those gathered. Ava ignores the aching hunger and parch of her throat for she wants to meet them all and hopefully find a playmate; someone to enjoy and before she takes their life. She mummers, “Intoxicating.”

Closing her eyes for a moment she relishes the excitement of the room which feeds her own desire to join them. Her attention called back as Lucian orders, "Be polite and introduce yourselves to our guests."

Straightening to a more graceful stance she watches Sophia quickly give her introduction. Ava rather liked the young vampire and understood her feelings towards her new life; she had gone through similar feelings at first, but soon learned to enjoy the many advantages. Duvessa went next and didn’t sound particularly thrilled, no surprise. She decides to go next moving to the center and offering a gracious smile to the guests, “Ava Muir.”

She follows her introduction with a small curtsey and bow of her head before continuing to the stairs, slender fingers gathering her skirts as she descends the stairs and joins the crowd with a small welcoming smile on her lips. She is not surprised by the few heads which turn her way, but she is curious if one will be brave enough to approach her or if she will have to pick her playmate on her own.

Lucas had wandered over to the buffet-style table, when he noted the women that had been standing with the guy who owned the place, had begun to come down to introduce themselves to the assembled party-goers below. All of them were quite beautiful in their own way, he noted, as they gracefully made their way down the steps...one a sexy, somewhat innocent-looking blonde, another a sultry raven haired woman, and yet another an auburn haired beauty. They definitely were not young enough looking to be the man's daughters, yet they all apparently lived in the manor here.

Lucas glanced up where the owner of the house had been standing, but didn't see him anymore. Apparently he wasn't one to mingle...

"Hmm...pays to be rich, I guess," Lucas thought, his face displaying a smile tempered with sarcasm, "Instead of one woman to share a bed with, you get enough to have a different one every day of the week, i guess. Just what Redhill Meadows needs...it's own version of Hugh Hefner."

The women seemed to making their way through the crowd, mingling with their new neighbors, but Lucas wasn't feeling particularly social, especially when it came to women. Since his accident, he hadn't dated, or even had a one-night stand.

At first, it was due to major recovery and physical therapy, of course, but once he'd been able to actually walk again, and started hanging out with some of his old high school friends, he'd just found he couldn't approach women anymore. His confidence, which had once been unshakable, was now shot.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been approached...Anna, his high school girlfriend, had tried to ask him out on a couple occasions, but he'd always turned her down. The last thing he wanted was to be a pity-fuck to one of his ex-girlfriends.

He didn't like to admit to it, but part of him felt as if he wasn't whole anymore...and part of it was due to all the looks from people he saw around town who remembered what he'd once been, and then saw what he was now.

When he'd left town, everyone thought he was going to become a pro football player, make millions, and live a glamourous life. Now, when he ran into these same people, they just saw a young man who was working at his dad's hardware store until he could take a mediocre job next year as an Assistant Coach from the high school where he'd graduated from five years before. In a few short years, gazes of admiration had turned to ones of pity.

"Oh well," Lucas thought, banishing the depressing thoughts for the moment, "think I'll grab a quick drink or two, and head for home. This party is lame." Being used to wild college parties, everything here seemed way too "upper crust" for his tastes. Still, there was free booze...that counted for something.

Shrugging, Lucas wandered over to the bar, and asked the creepy looking "eunich-servant/bartender" for a beer. While there, he saw Mr. Dennison standing there holding a drink, and suspiciously looking at everyone.

Lucas recalled his father saying the man was a bit of a "nutcase". Glancing around at all the neighbors in outlandish costumes as they started to dance again as the band began to play, he thought that perhaps the man had finally found the one environment where he actually appeared more sane than everyone else around him. Taking a swig of his beer, he grinned, and gave the man a friendly wave from across the room, simply because he liked the irony of that thought.

Ivory was having a fantastic time! She was notorious in the neighborhood for wanting to know everything about people, but she also knew how to keep her mouth shut...which was why she did know most of the neighborhoods secrets. You could unload to Ivory and she wouldn't gossip about it later. Something some of the blue-hairs on the block constantly lamented. This place was giving her tons of information and she savored it.

Across the room she saw Lucas Darrett looking particularly grumpy. No doubt his parents had dragged him out here against his own wishes. They always seemed to be doing things like that. She understood they were trying to snap him out of his self-pity but only he could do that. It really was a shame too since he was rather handsome even with that scowl on his face. If he actually smiled there wasn't a woman in town who wouldn't follow him home. Word on the gossip line was that he thought everyone pitied him and couldn't stand himself because of it.

Shaking her head she muttered softly, "Get over it you big lug. No one really cares but you."

Turning her gaze away from Lucas she watched three lovely women introduce themselves and make their way out into the crowd. She lost sight of them once they'd dispersed out into the people around them but she'd noted their names and faces and would introduce herself later if/when she came across them. Looking back up at the balcony she realized she'd lost track of anyone else while watching the three women. She had no idea if the Owner of the house had gone into some back wing or simply made his way out into the crowd as well.

Ah well she'd keep her eyes open for him. The night was early, there was no need to rush to tell him what a beautiful home he had.

Making her own way through the crowd to the bar she ordered a simple glass of coke. She wanted to remain sober through the night so she'd remember it that much better! At the bar she nodded to Thomas Dennison. Word around the neighborhood was that he was suspicious of everyone and he certainly looked it as he gaze out across the dance floor! Still he looked stunning in his James Bond tux and martini and she didn't bother to hide the fact she thought so as she let her eyes appreciate the view he afforded.

If he hadn't wanted to be looked at he shouldn't have worn a tux.

Duvessa swept across the floor, her hazel eyes glimmering from behind her mask as she looked around. Dove adored playing the part of the mysterious beauty; she seamlessly made her way through the crowd and seemed not to speak to anyone. She’d murmur a few words of greeting here and there but moved on; finally she found a neat little gathering around the bar and sighed in resignation.

Duvessa wandered over slowly, twisting and turning gracefully as she surveyed the crowd before she finally made it to the bar and muttered a soft word to the bartender/servant who nodded robotically and started to mix a drink for her. She spread her skirts and sat down on a barstool that disappeared beneath her luxurious gown. She turned to her side and took the glass from the servant without batting an eye or saying a word of thanks but it was almost as though he’d not expected one.

Finally Duvessa lowered the mask to reveal her beautiful creamy skin that seemed perhaps just a shade lighter than it should be in her but modern make up worked wonders on her. She sipped her Bloody Mary; the irony of her taste in cocktails not lost on her though it had long become humorless to her. Her high cheekbones managed to keep her elegant appearance in check and her painted lips parted ever so slightly as she mused over the evening’s turn out and where she might begin to give attention.

After all; the last time she’d worn this dress she’d had a marvelous evening well worth her time so she hoped the gown had not lost all its awe over the centuries. It still hugged her curves in all the right places and accentuated her ample cleavage to perfection. The whale bone in the corset however made her quite grateful she did not have the need to breathe, when she was alive; dresses like this one absolutely strangled her. Keira Knightley had actually gotten that one right in Pirates of the Caribbean! Duvessa had loved watching the changes to the world in the past century especially; human growth appealed to her a great deal and she loved to deal in historical conversations with people, having the upper hand left her with little competition though.

Her eyes lingered a long moment on the man with a bad leg, he stood out a little more because of the imperfection to him but soon her hazel gaze wandered elsewhere. Duvessa was not so rude as to stare but nor did she smile at him, merely acting as though she’d had a passing fancy. Acting; ah now that she could get quite into but this evening she chose to play a rather good part; that of herself. She found herself searching the crowd for her vampire counterparts but they were a little more difficult to find in the thick of this. She reached out along their bond and found them dotted in various places before she reclined and took another sip of her drink, emitting the softest sigh.

Ava Muir

Ava weaves through the crowd of people, most of which appear to be enjoying themselves, but there are a few who stand off at the edge of the crowd. It’s no wonder some would feel put off by the extravagance and mystery of their presence. Entering Redhill Mansion is like taking a step back in time or into a period piece movie where the opalescence of high society is romanticized and flaunted. Of course this was all for show. Created to put the neighbors at ease and fulfill their curiosity beneath the surface lies a more insidious purpose. Ava considers herself the hunter stalking the humans like a pack of elk selecting which will be her prey. If any of these humans had any real instinct they’d have stayed away or given an excuse to leave early, but as she mingles through the crowd they smile openly, politely.

A few feet away a young man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera purposely catches her eye and so she smiles; it is all the encouragement he needs to close the distance between them. He’s tall, well over six feet, broad shoulders with grey-blue eyes had he had dark hair instead of the pale blonde he would have reminded her of Marius, her long deceased sire. He offers a sweeping bow; in return she curtsies like in the days when she attended court. “Hello Ava, I’m Peter Nichols.”

Arching a single brow as he calls her by name, so he was paying attention and sought her out? How sweet. “Pleasure to meet you, Peter. Are you enjoying your evening so far.”

“So far…” A charming smile on his lips and this she thinks this one has charisma, “I was hoping you’d agree to a dance?”

He holds out his hand to her in a gentlemanly fashion and with no hesitation she accepts by resting her cold hand into his, which is covered by a clean white glove. “Certainly.”

Leading her onto the dance floor he sweeps into his arms and begins to lead her into a waltz. Ava is impressed she hadn’t expected someone of his age to dance well, let alone good, by the look of him he couldn’t be much older than twenty-five though she’d become increasingly bad at guessing age over the last several years. Gracefully they move around the dance floor and Ava smiles with delight, she loves to dance and it’d been ages since she’d had the experience of a good partner.

Their conversation is sparse and polite, but she feels no want to keep him. Halfway through the waltz she splits her attention between him and the crowd using the floor space they cover as a way to observe the room looking for another possible target. At the bar she spies Duvessa enjoying a drink and two men only a barstool down. One dressed in a tux and looking rather dashing, but uneasy and the other, who made little effort to dress for the party, looks rather put out. These men feel challenging much more so than the powerful man holding her lithe frame in his strong arms. Peter is handsome and charming and a skilled dancer, but he is too easy. She’d bore of him quickly.

When the dance comes to an end she pulls from, “Thank you for the dance, if you’ll excuse me I have others I would like to meet.”

She can read the disappointment on his face, but he fails to surrender, “Perhaps a dance later?”

“Perhaps.” She flashes him a bright smile and then sweeps away in the direction of the bar.

“Good Evening, Duvessa.” Ava smiles as she passes by choosing her place at the bar on the other side of the young man in a football jersey. Catching the eye of the bartender/servant, “A glass of Riesling.”

Typically Ava preferred red wine, the Malbec grape her favorite, but tonight she feels white better suits the evening and her attire; a silly way to make a decision, but it was hers to make. Sweeping up the glass as it’s set on the bar she first takes a sip of the sweet, fruity golden liquid before turning her attention to the men and smiles warmly, “Good evening, gentlemen.”

Lucas drained his beer, and motioned to the bartender for another.

Taking another swig, he noticed one of the women that had been standing with "Count Chocula", as he derisively started thinking of him, wandered near.

He hadn't really been paying attention to their names..this one was the sultry dark haired one. When she removed her mask, Lucas's eyes did widen a bit, she was stunning...and when her eyes slid over him for a moment he felt his heart flutter a bit...but then her gaze moved on. Something about the way she'd looked at him seemed...odd.

He'd seen women look at him before...he knew that even with the gimpy leg, he wasn't bad looking, really...his loss of confidence wasn't linked to his looks, but other problems...

The dark haired "Countess" as he started to think of her had looked at him, not in a flirtacious way, but in a way that reminded him of someone who was trying to decide what car to buy...a cold, almost appraising look.

He shrugged, and turned back to the bar, finishing his beer, and smacking his lips loudly when he drained the last drops.

Looking over at Mr. Dennison, he said, "Well, it's been real...it's been fun....but it hasn't been REAL FUN, so, I think I'm gonna go ahead and exit, stage left...have a good one, Mr Den..."

His words were cut off, by the prescence of the auburn haired woman he'd seen with the "Count".

He glided between them gracefully, ordering wine, and then turned to both he and Mr. Dennison, saying, “Good evening, gentlemen."

He had a similar reaction when seeing this woman, as he had with the sultry brunette moments ago...she was just as lovely, and had a aura of...well, sex appeal, was the closest thing he could equate it to, and his heart seemed to speed up slightly, his thoughts seeming to jumble in his head a bit.

"Umm...Hi, there." Lucas said. He motioned the bartender for a third beer...

Srry I'm late had a medical emerg.

Lillith was hanging around the back of the party near the walls. She had tired a black and gold blindfold-like cloth over the eyes of her mask to block out the constant flashes of soul energy.

She had a drink in her hand but wasn't drinking it. From behind the cloth she was examining the party goers intensly. She had quickly made out who all the houses occupants were and she preferred not to be seen. It had quickly become hot inside and in an effort to avoid that she pushed off the wall and began making her way across the room.

She moved with an undeniable inner grace and her feet seemed not to touch the ground. She made her way to the balcony and slipped out the door. She sat her drink down on the railing and stood looking out. She gently untied the band re-tying it around her neck. She took her mask off and looked at it her fingers tracing the design. A gust of warm air blew in her face sending her hair flying in a golden plume. She sat staring at the stars on the night sky enjoying the view.

She couldn't help bit feel as if something was wrong with this party but just ignored it. She must have been growing steadily paranoid. She pulled a flower from her hair sending it's whorl spiraling down onto her shoulder. She held the flower daintily twirling it in her fingers and sighed. This night was less exciting then she had predicted.

Ava to Lucas

Ava sensed the rise of his pulse in admiration of her beauty when he turned to look at her in response to her greeting. He’d been ready to leave, but it appears now he will stay, good. A sweet smile touches her lips, “Hello.”

She greets him again. Her eyes leave his only momentarily to glace to the fresh beer set on the bar. She hopes Dove doesn’t mind that she’s chosen her playmate from between the two men. Yes, this young man will do nicely. Masking the predatory nature pulsing beneath her pale cold skin with a coy bat of her eyes she wishes she could fake a blush.

Lifting the glass for another sip of wine she can feel the itch at the back of her throat, the desire to run her tongue over her fangs, the compulsion to feed always there, but Ava had learned control. The game always made the conquest so much sweeter. This man standing in front of her is vulnerable. She can sense the self loathing. He’d lost sight of the confidence he once held, but it is not gone. She will make him feel like a man again. Extending a delicate hand forward she introduces herself to him personally, “I am Ava.”

Is there a slight accent in her voice? The vampire many years ago had dropped her Scottish brogue, but she could easily recall inflections into her voice to enhance the fantasy and this man needs the fantasy of a beautiful mysterious woman.

“Good Evening, Duvessa.”

Duvessa inclined her head as the woman walked by, “Ava.” She said with an even tone to the younger vampire and watched as she sat down between the two men.

Duvessa had to take another sip from her drink to keep the grin from her face as Ava chose her playmate for the evening quickly. Her eyes wandered over the rim of the glass to the one Ava had dismissed so easily, his tux was well worn and he seemed to run his eyes over the party with idle concern or quite possibly suspicion.

Either way her inability to tell the difference in the expression on his face had Duvessa’s interests perked enough for her to slide from the stool and make her way to the other end of the bar where he stood. Her mask clutched in one hand by her side and her half empty glass in the other, she inclined her head to him and a sparkling smile lit her lips.

“Good evening, you look like you’re having more fun than you can stand right now so I thought I’d come over and see what I could do about that.” A melodic lilt hit in her tone, so unlike that of the bored one she had used to introduce herself earlier and she seemed to ooze desire from every pore.

Her hazel eyes lit up with a tinge of yellow glow in them and her hair whispered ever so softly without a hint of a breeze. Duvessa was in search of prey to satisfy all kinds of wicked needs this night and she decided not to fool around for very long tonight. She would see instantly if he could keep her interest and she would move on if necessary though she doubted this human couldn’t keep up her intrigue as his expression suggested he already held some doubts about the new residents of Redhill House.

The auburn haired beauty smiled at him, and said hello in reply, and almost seem to bat her eyes flirtaciously at him, which caused him to smile in return.

She took a sip of her wine, seeming to enjoy the flavor, and introduced herself.

“I am Ava,” she said, extending her hand to him, and he gently took it, shaking it. he thought he detected a slight accent, but he couldn't place it...it caused her voice to seem worldly, charming, and...sexy. But then again, her demeanor matched that as well.

Lucas recovered from his initial reaction to the beautiful woman before him, taking a drink of his beer, before saying, "Quite the party here...pretty fancy. Your friend must have spent alot of money, doing all this on such short notice. I hope it wasn't to impress the neighbors...truth be told, most of em aren't worth impressing. Most of em are a bunch of pretentious busy-bodies and gossipers."

He suddenly realized that Mr. Dennison was still in earshot, and laughed, calling out over his shoulder, "Present company excepted, Mr. Dennison...I wasn't talking about YOU...you're cool."

"So," Lucas asked, turning his attention back to Ava and doing his best to keep his eyes on her face, instead of her ample bosom, "what brings you to Redhill Meadows? No offense, but you all seem kinda...umm...highbrow, for this neighborhood, I guess."

IC: Lucian

Lucian moved through the crowd meeting his new neighbors/potential meals and quietly assessing them.

One a soft pudgy man in his late thirties dressed as a pirate came up to him, towing behind a woman in a dress from the 1700's and masquerade mask. The man had his hand out for a shake. "Maxwell Wilson, stockbroker at Harvey Sonheim and Greer in the city. I have to say your home is lovely and very ostentatious."

"My companions did most of the work in selecting this house's decor. They find such things pleasing, and I find it rewarding to indulge them in such matters..." He eyed the man then the woman-his wife no doubt. She had all the hallmarks of a bored housewife to a workaholic negelctful husband. how many times had he seduced ones like her for the scant thrill of tearing a marriage teetering on the edge apart? Lucian began to wonder over the possibilities of seducing this Mrs. Wilson right under the nose of her husband before he finally drank them dry at the end of this night. It hardly excited him at all. He had aqcuired hundreds, thousands of such conquests over the years, these two seemed like little or even less of a challenge to make it worth the effort. Still, there did not seem to be anyone more interesting among the crowd of mundane people. Beggars could scarcely be choosers. He'd just have to make the most of it.

Lucian ignored the man's hand and instead turned his obvious attention to his wife. he took her hand in his and raised the back of it to his lips, "You must be Mrs. Wilson. So lovely and charming." he said flashing his fangs to her and noting the hitch they caused in her pulse. "You are a very lucky man Mr. Wilson."

"Oh-right-my wife. Yes I am very proud of her." He said with little truth to his words. Lucian could tell this was the sort of man who's passion was money and possessions-he had known and fostered and broken many in his years. his lovely wife was just another posession-a beautiful trophy to parade about at parties such as these. He would destroy this man and woman easily. "Tell me Mr.-uh-Mr. Lucian are you happy with your finances." Mr. wilson went on trying to get back to the mundane conversation he had scripted out for them.

"I am content," He said stringing the man along keeping eye contact with the woman. Soon she would be on her knees before him, his member in her mouth as Mr. Wilson watched helplessly...why didn't that excite him...because he had fulfilled such scenes as that so many times before it was boring-passe'.

These two were hardly worth the effort. Would he ever finds something, someone new and exciting to him. Perhaps he had truly done everything, perhaps there was truly nothing left to explore-to conquer-to consume.

Then from over the shoulder behind Mrs. Wilson he saw her crossing the room. she was a young girl-a virgin perhaps-certainly one without much experience in life. How many young maidens had he deflowered in his undead life-too many, but this one was different somehow. There was something strange about her, unique, unexpected, and new to Lucian. He had to have her.

So he removed himself from the Wilson's politely promising to discuss accursedly boring finances with the man at some later time and forgetting all about that vow the moment he left them.

He followed her out to the balcony overlooking the garden with the stars shining down over them.

Lucian watched her from the doors to the ballroom twirling a flower she had plucked from her hair between her fingers.

What was it about her that roused him so? She looked mundane, like every other girl he had seduced and posessed over the ages...but there was something different to her...something not even one as old as he had ever seen before to her...she was a mystery...an undiscovered country for him to conquer. He stood there relishing for a moment the experience of having something new and unexplored before him again.

Finally he stepped up behind her saying, "Glorious night is it not," He asked her as he took the hand holding the flower and brought it up to his nose to inhale its fragrance and more importantly her own scent.

Lillith jumped slightly at the sound of the males voice. She turned to face him her gold eyes searching his. A slight frown tinged at the corners of her mouth. How strange...there seems to be no trace of a soul. She Gntly removed her hand from his leaving the flower in his hand. She graced him with a gentle smile. "Yes it is, Mr... Lucian was it." she said.

She turned away her gaze returning to the garden. She let the gentle breeze catch her hair again as she looked at the moon. She couldn't help but wonder why she couldn't read his soul but at the same time it was an oddly comforting feeling. Maybe this party wouldn't be so bad after all.

Then it occured to her that she was possibly being very rude and retuned her attention to him. "Forgive my rudeness, I am Lillith Starces, the only true phsycic in the Meadows." she said. She found Lucian quite intriuging and decided it might be interesting to talk to him for now. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Ava to Lucas

Ava could feel the strength in his hand during the brief handshake the contact much too short, but there is time and his receptive smile to her flirting says he will give her the time she desires. This is the part she enjoys the most the beginning, small talk and flirting, grazing touches, which begin innocent, but hold a promise to become more. His obvious attraction to her will make this dance go smoother.

"Quite the party here...pretty fancy. Your friend must have spent alot of money, doing all this on such short notice. I hope it wasn't to impress the neighbors...truth be told, most of em aren't worth impressing. Most of em are a bunch of pretentious busy-bodies and gossipers."

Subtly inching closer, so that her shoulder grazes Lucas’ chest, Ava turns her back to the bar the wine glass’ stem pinched between her fingers her attention on the crowd watching them mingle and dance. Her chosen playmate follows his comments with an apology to other gentleman, a Mr. Dennison. When she has his attention again she answers the Scottish brogue there, but light so he doesn’t have trouble understanding, “It has nothing to do with impressing you or your neighbors. For as long as I’ve known Lucian he’s always been a generous host; he indulges our tastes for the elaborate.”

Turning her head she raises her chin attempting to meet his eyes a question on her lips, but he beats her with a question of his own. "What brings you to Redhill Meadows? No offense, but you all seem kinda...umm...highbrow, for this neighborhood, I guess."

Ah, what indeed? The truth wouldn’t be appropriate though he’d likely laugh thinking it’s a joke. “No offense taken. I know our presence has created much curiosity. I am here because Lucian is here.” She says simply, “It must seem an odd arrangement all of us living together, no?”

Her smile disappears for a moment on the lip of the wine glass, “But it’s not we’re family. Enough about me…tell me something of yourself, such as your name?”

“No offense taken. I know our presence has created much curiosity. I am here because Lucian is here.” She paused before adding, “It must seem an odd arrangement all of us living together, no?”

"Well," he admitted, the thought DID cross my mind that it was odd that one man had as many women living with him as he does..."

“But it’s not we’re family," Ava stated, and Lucas shrugged in apology, hoping she didn't take offense.

"Enough about me," the beautiful woman before him said, a small smile playing upon her lips, "tell me something of yourself, such as your name?”

He chuckled ruefully, "Oh....wow, I feel dumb. Sorry about that. I guess I never introduced myself. My name is Lucas...Lucas Darret."

He paused to take a drink of his beer, and then glanced at her face...and continued talking...

"Not all that much to tell about me, really. My parents live in Redhill meadows, and have for as long as I can remember. I went to school around here, played high school football...I guess i was pretty good at it. Got an athletic scholarship from the University of Wisconsin and played football there too, while taking classes in education."

He hadnt planned on elaborating, or even really bringing up his personal history, but for some reason, he found himself speaking...maybe it was the look in her eyes. Ava had beautiful eyes...he felt compelled to keep speaking, feeling strangely comfortable with this strange woman who he'd never met before.

"During my senior year, we played Iowa State, and I took a helmet to my knee cap. It got busted up pretty bad...bad enough where I wasn't going to ever be able to play ball again. Lucky for me, I got my degree in Education. I got offered a job to start out substitute teaching in the fall and also be an assistance coach on the football team."

He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, as he added, "Not exactly what I had planned for my life, I guess, but sometimes i guess you're stuck with the hand you're dealt..." He glanced meaningfully down at his recovering knee, and then wistfully added, "I just wish I could move like I used to..."

He blinked, suddenly realizing he'd been babling on and on to a complete stranger about himself....very out of character for him, as he'd always had a tendency to keep personal things to himself.

"Wow...I don't know where all that came from," Lucas said, feeling himself again, "Sorry, about that...hope I didn't bore you too much there."

IC: Thomas Dennison

“Good evening, you look like you’re having more fun than you can stand right now so I thought I’d come over and see what I could do about that.”

Tom jerked upright turning to see a stunning woman at the end of the bar. He nodded putting down the hlf empty martini saying, "I've never been one for crowds. Especially at the high-end swanky places like this. Give me a can of good beer and play some old rock-n-roll, and then I'll call it a party."

"Tell me," He asked her, "Just what does count dracula do for a living, and how does that pretentious loser keep a bunch of babes like you and your girlfriends around like Hugh Hefner?"

Ava to Lucas

Ava listens attentively to Lucas; she likes his name, as he tells her a summary of his life story. Occasionally she raises her glass to sip at the wine, so that by the end of his tale she is in need of another glass. The confession about his knee injury explains the lack of confidence and self loathing she sensed earlier though it would appear her presence has easily unzipped his tongued. He looked pessimistic and bored only minutes before and now she can sense his ease and interest. Still, there is wistful regret and bitterness that never leaves him.

"Wow...I don't know where all that came from," Lucas apologizes, "Sorry, about that...hope I didn't bore you too much there."

“Think nothing of it, I asked you tell me about yourself.” Raising a delicate hand to rest on his chest as she shifts to set the empty glass on the bar and with a motion of her hand orders another glasses. Tilting her head to the side she meets Lucas’ gaze feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath her hand, the warm pulse of his blood circulating through his body, if she was not schooled to resist the thirst she’d be leading him into a dark corner. Eventually the dark corner would come, but not before she spent a long satisfying evening with him. “And it’s true,” she says as she pick up a new glass of wine, “when life takes a different path than one expects it’s up to that individual to decide how they will be happy.”

She glances down to his knee for only a moment before returning her gaze to his, a sweet smile on her lips, “I don’t care if you don’t move gracefully.”

Running her fingers lightly back and forth on his chest she asks softly, “Would you like to go somewhere quieter? More secluded?”

“Think nothing of it," she said, in reply to him, her gaze meeting his, and holding,"I asked you tell me about yourself.”

Lucas suddenly felt her hand resting on his broad chest, and felt his heart skip a beat again, as Ava ordered another drink wordlessly, with a delicate wave of her hand.

“And it’s true,” she said, picking up her newly filled wine glass, “when life takes a different path than one expects it’s up to that individual to decide how they will be happy.”

Lucas found himself somewhat entranced by Ava. She seemed to enjoy his company...and judging by the almost hungry look in her eyes, she seemed to find him attractive as well.

He'd had women hit on him before, but this was different...in the past, they were over-eager young girls, attracted by his looks, his prowress on the football field, and his promising prospects after college. While some were quite attractive and sexy, they'd always seemed immature, and too eager to please, making Lucas question their motives.

Ava was totally different...she seemed near his age, but the way she held herself...her demeanor and personality...she seemed much older, with a maturity beyond her years. She was beautiful and mysterious, and Lucas found himself wanting to know more about her.

Ava's eyes moved to his bad knee for a moment, before returning her gaze to his again, smiling in such a way that Lucas found endearing, and said, “I don’t care if you don’t move gracefully.”

Her fingers traced lightly back and forth across his chest, and his felt something he hadn't felt for a long time...the beginning embers of need and desire. He knew that they had just met, but he found himself wanting her.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, she softly asked, “Would you like to go somewhere quieter? More secluded?”

Lucas nodded, smiling at her, saying "I've never been one for crowded parties. Besides, I wouldn't mind taking a look around this place, if you're willing to show me around a bit. I have to say, the house is pretty impressive...very elegant. Have to admit, the place reminds me a bit of a museum, though..."

IC: Lucian

"Glorious night is it not?"

She jumped at the contact and turned to see him. "Yes it is, Mr... Lucian was it."

"It was, my dear," He said his most charming smile on his face and his eyes exploring the elegant curves of her face not covered by the mask on it. "And your name is?"

"Why does she have a strip of cloth under the mask blocking her vision." He wondered thrilled by the mystery, "I find this girl intriguing."

"Would you care to dance my dear," he asked gesturing as the band of his enthralled minions started up an elegant waltz.

"My name, as I believe I have already stated. Is Lilith, Lilith Starces." she said with a light giggle.

She took a tenative look inside at the dance floor, glad that the band prevented soul auras from reaching her eyes and nodded at his question. Lilith glided graceful back inside removing her mask and hooking in on the hip of her sash. The band remained over her eyes though. She sighed before speaking. "I know you must be wondering about the band over my eyes. Believe it or not I use it to filter out other peoples soul auras. In settings like this I becomes far to overwhelming." she said.