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OOC: Please note this takes place before the Darian/Grace scene.
How Grace felt about her sire usually depended on her mood. The making of their bond carried a lot of weight with her, and they'd always maintained a rough sort of affection between them. Get her drunk enough or find her in a particularly perverse state of mind, she'd tell you that she got a kick out of the surface age difference. That in a certain light he could pass for her son if he tried.
They could also drive one another utterly batshit with very little provocation, but tonight they were pretty content with one another. She'd insisted on dancing, and the music thundered through the overhead speakers like the heartbeats they no longer had as Rob Zombie's Foxy, Foxy poured down on them like sonic rain. The overhead lights made the thrashing bodies around them look like a preview of hell, and he leaned in to put his mouth close to her ear from behind, one hand tugging on her belt to keep her close.
"What's an educated horse, anyhow?" "One with a college diploma." Reuben snorted, a rude sound. "Music today don't make no damn sense. When I was..." "Yeah, I know, 'back in your day'." Grace rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. "Spare me the history lesson just for tonight, man. You're havin' fun, right?" "I suppose so," he allowed, a little grudgingly. She wondered suddenly if he'd be around to ring in the new year with her. December was already on them, the year's end just around the corner. It'd be nice to celebrate it with him for a change.
Bethany had slumbered for a long time, wrapped up in and around Darian. He had satisfied her, he always did, but there was a restlessness in her that had her back on her feet and wandering again. Her movements appeared aimless but there was some sense of direction to them, moving from place to place and tasting the sin of Las Vegas on the edge of her tongue.
She broke off only briefly to shower and change, stripping away the clothes from the other night and replacing them with clothes bound to get her noticed; a stark black dress against pale skin, held up only by thin spaghetti straps, and boots high enough to wrap and compliment her calves, with heels that looked like they might snap if too much weight was put on them.
It wasn't that she was looking for anything other than attention tonight, she'd had her fill with Darian after all, but there was a certain power in having people look at her and not being able to touch. She could easily switch moods, from sex to violence, it was all a trick of balance and it was a line that Bethany was walking with very unsteady strides.
( Newly-Unleashed Violence (Mild Violence) )
( Are You Okay? )
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