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From: Anastasia
“I am sorry, I could not help notice your dress. It is lovely,” Anastasia reaches out and touches the wispy material on the goth girl’s garment, giving an apologetic smile to her male companion. “You are a lucky man,” her eyes flash appreciatively. “Very lucky,” the seemingly flustered Tremere whispers with an almost embarrassed gleam.
The cool swinger wanna-be steels his nerve for what may be the moment he has waited for all his life. “Oh,” he starts, narrowly avoiding a stammer, “I know. Who could resist her?” his eyes almost beg the alluring, frail looking Anastasia.
“Not I, obviously,” Anastasia lightly strokes the gossamer dress and soft skin again. The object of the Tremere’s attentions closes her eyes for a moment then looks at her boyfriend with a seductive intensity. “I need to visit the little girl’s room,” Anastasia interrupts the confused, passionate moment. “Could you ‘Come With Me’?” she entreats the black clad female morsel, refusal not an option. The two depart hastily for the ladies room. Anastasia enters a stall and sighs. “This annoying button again. Could you help me?” she asks plaintively from inside the stall as she unlocks the door. The girl enters with just a bit of hesitation. Anastasia starts to point out the troublesome button on her shoulder, then stops, reaches up, and touches the girl’s chalk-faced cheek. “Would you,” Anastasia looks down in seeming lack of words before regaining her hold on the girl’s eyes, “I mean, could you ‘Let Me Kiss You.’?” The young woman does and must acquiesce. The Tremere gently holds the small face in her hand, lightly touching the mortal’s lips with hers. She bites with sublime tenderness, causing the petite gothic delight to become limp against the wall. Taking but little, Anastasia caresses her puppet’s lips with her tongue, sealing the punctures. Looking the blood doll in the eyes for a moment, the vampire lifts the little one’s chin and lowers her mouth behind it’s perfumed ear. Several moments pass. The swooning girl is led back to her boyfriend. “She has had a bit too much drink tonight I fear. Perhaps I shall see you here again another time.” She deposits her swaying vessel into the arms of the boy, gives a disappointed smile, and exits the club. She returns to the Chantry, all satisfaction thoroughly buried before she reaches its somber walls.