IC Time: August 15, 2007
Location: Volturri Castle
Synopsis: Afton and Chelsea
Submitted by: Chelsea
It is morning in Volterra. Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still. Only the nearest tree branches show their full color; more distant trees and branches are colorless and indistinct in the pallid grey fog, looking ghostly and not quite real. Chelsea sits in the windowsill of their shared quarters, looking upon the misty grey world. She hears the sounds of the humans starting their day in the city down below. The untouchables and the protected. Chelsea looks an angel in the diophonous white dress she is wearing today, no doubt meeting a new 'recruit' today. She always seems to dress the most angelic when meeting someone new. Just another part of the manipulation, the sweet face, the angelic appearance.
Amongst their own people, in the comfort of the kindred and away from the humans, Afton prefers to dress back to his roots; he feels it suits him more than the modern riff-raff of fashion these days. As such, today he is dressed in fineries suited to a noble family of the old ages, crushed crimson velvets and black silks, giving him almost a storybook vampire appearance, if one didn't know better.
A book in hand, dusty and fragile of old age, he makes his way into the quarters having finished a combat training session with one of his more prestigious groups on the more 'offensive' detail. "You would think after fifty years the golden rule of 'block' would begin to sink in more." He mutters, setting the book aside on a table just inside the main door.
On the contrary, for every era Chelsea seems to choose the more modern styles for the most part. From the angelic soft gowns of the era to the more structured outfits of the same. Even as he enters her ruby eyes turn to Afton, bright in indication of a recent meal. There is a smirk upon her lips at his words as she swivels in her seat to face him. The diffuse light backlighting her form. No doubt whoever was her last meal would have mistaken her for an angel until the pain hit. "There are some that might never sink into…" She allights to her sandled feet and moves toward her husband. "Any of the new ones promising at all? I would hate to think my efforts wasted on them as well as yours."
When out amongst the humans, where he has to blend, he adapts the fashions of the times. But only then. Well, lets say… he's not fond of jeans. Never found comfort in denim. One hand shifting to the small of his back, he approaches Chelsea with his own orbs a stark contrast to her crimson- a velvety ebony, marking his thirst. He has been a busy man lately. His free hand outstretches to receive her own if she allows, and if given, he half-bows, bestowing a kiss on her knuckles.
Straightening, he responds: "A few, yes. Though a few I think won't make it much longer. Aren't we receiving a new cast soon?"
"Such a pity, some should be a little more discerning with the people they turn, some just make better meals." Chelsea says with a touch of scorn in her voice. She drifts over to Afton, her hand extending even as he reaches for it. The usual rituals. A light smile plays her lips, even as her own hand reaches up to caress his cheek ever so slightly. "You will need to eat today, I believe Heidi is bringing in a small group for lunch, you should avail yourself of the opportunity." She steps closer to him and wrinkles her nose at the latter question. "Well Aro still has his heart set on the Cullen kids, but even the Ball did not bring him closing to achieving that."
Releasing her hand, his raises to brush his fingertips against her cheek, following down to her jaw to grace her neck in a playful manner. "Agreed. One I wouldn't mind dispatching of myself- more of a nuisance than an aid." The mention of the Cullens brings a partial smirk to his features. "I remember Carlisle coming here. Him and his ilk are… resistant to our ways. Much to his doing, of course. Though time has many boons- they may still yet detour." Belatedly, he replies on the mention of eating: "I shall do so." He gets cranky if he goes too long, after all. Men don't do well when underfed.
"It is becoming harder to find people who have the proper …discipline. The young these days have little respect for rules as human and think less of them when they are full of power." Chelsea says with disdain as her finger slides gently down his cheek to rest upon his neck, her thumb stroking ever so slightly where his jugular might have pulsed were he human. "That nearly all his …children have talent…well, you know how that winds Aro." She is both annoyed and understanding of his fascination. Especially with the newest member and that her cousin was turned and found to be powered as well. The taste for the Swan girl has definately grown.
"Discipline in this age is certainly lacking. As time marches on, they continue to become worse. Times certainly have changed from our day." Afton sighs with that revelation, but his distain for the markings of the present soon fade at the feeling of her fingers against his throat. "Careful- I would hate to tear such a beautiful garment so soon." His lips shift into an impish grin, only preceding the movement by a mere second as he leans to inhale her scent as he brushes his lips against her throat. "The Cullens will either come or not, it is not a pressing matter on my mind at current."
A smile traces across her lips and she cants her head as she looks up at him, lips slightly parted. "I have others." There is a gentle tug on his bond to her, just a tease, no doubt a familiar feel after all these years. And so the dance begins. There is a soft sigh from her own lips as lips brush against her own throat and she tips her neck back ever so slightly, giving herself to him even as she plays at controlling his mind.
A dance never-ending with these two, certainly. Their relationship has for decades been a mystery to others- which makes it all the more interesting. The hand behind his back moves to rest with the lightest touch at her hip, fingertips lightly squeezing to let her know it is at least there.
Feeling the touch, he grins briefly against her skin, his lips teasing up her neck to the bottom of her ear. His own power never really shuts off, but he does have the ability to amplify it when he puts his mind to it; such as the sultry sense in his voice as he purrs to her ear: "But, what is it you want me to do to you?" He teases.
Could even these two say they love each other? Well in what ways two of the biggest manipulators in the guard can at least. She steps closer to him, her wispy fabric fluttering against his heavy velvet. Her own fingers continue to trace lightly about his throat, a featherlight touch brushing down to the collar of his jacket. Her eyes flutter at the tonality of his voice, recognizing the power behind it but not caring a whit. "Do you need ask?" She asks as her eyes flutter open to look upon his face again and she leans up to touch her lips to his.
There is a low, but short chuckle at her reply, though any words that he could muster are hushed by the kiss she gives him. The hand that plays at her throat starts to close his fingers around it, thumb teasing under her jaw as he presses a more forceful response.
The pressure at her throat only seems to excite her all the more and the knock on the on door causes a hiss to utter from her own lips. "Jarvis better have a fine reason to knock on that door just this moment." She says with a growl, before curling her fingers into his velvet to pull him into a hungry passionate kiss, before she pushes away from him in the next instant to sit upon the window seat once more. The anger of the interuption bright in her red eyes, though her expression goes to neutral by time the door is opened.
