24. Amber Hart
Amber's little domain is comforting in its stability. As strange as the world outside Aventure grows, as terrifying as those she rubs elbows with become, this place stays... as it is. Secure. Familiar. Amber is the queen in her castle, and all is right with the world, at least for a little while. And as the queen, she is entitled to the fruits of her domain.
A particular man, dark hair with business casual caught her eye this evening when he noticed a pill being slipped into a woman's drink at the same time she did. Amber watched as he forced the would-be poisoner to drink it himself with a cold smile and a tight grip on his shoulder. The other man collapsed into a drugged stupor a few minutes later and was carried out. He's dressed plainly, in dark colors, clothes not tailored but obviously well-groomed. A good look on him. He's caught her eyes a few times from across the room since then.
Amber is out fairly casually tonight, a tight sleeveless black shirt with wide neck leaving a bit of cleavage and shoulders exposed. Blue mini-skirt and form-hugging black leggings continue down to platform boots. It's something of a dikey look, but it suits her mood, confident in her charms without the need to accentuate them by flaunting her body too much. Well, some might consider cleavage and a miniskirt flaunting, but it's more about attitude than skin in Amber's opinion. She's content to let things play out slowly - a couple of glances in his direction now and then, returned, to make sure he knows she's paying attention. A pretend sip of her drink (such a useful prop) while watching him, which he returns with a small saluting motion of his own cup. Commentary on the prospects of the new year with some of the students clustering around her couch, and rumors that one of the professors is getting fired over a racist rant. She leans back and stretches her hands up over her head as the song changes, then stands and heading towards the dance floor alone. Such is are the intricacies of enjoying herself and her surroundings. Not likely she'll be alone for long.
The mystery man feels the current of the room, the way Amber draws its elements together in her gravity. While he may not be quite as quick on the uptake as, say, a vampire would be, he's sharp for a mortal. He slides from his seat, brushing back his messy black curls. They're the only messy thing about his otherwise neatly ordered appearance. With a smile and quiet word to the woman whose evening he saved, he makes his way leisurely to the dance floor. There's something to how he walks, how he carries himself, that tugs at Amber's memory. There's something... it reminds her of Siveri, in a way. There's a certain way they both move that is strikingly similar. She can't place her finger on why, but the connection tugs at her interest. Even the faint association piques some part of her to notice him more closely, more intensely. The two are clearly on intersecting and very interesting trajectories when Amber spots another incoming line of motion - Kev.
Oh, Kev. He looks like what a person who wears their heart on their sleeve thinks being composed looks like. And he clearly wants to talk to her. She hasn't seen him in... what, two, three weeks? Last time was... oh. Memories of his expression last time she saw him intrude - she left with Velo, rather than stopping to interact. She gives a little grimace at the thought, and breaks off the approach to her current potential fling by simple dint of obviously noticing Kev and retreating from the dance floor to wait for him. Velo couldn't wait last time, but she can put a bit of enjoyment on hold this evening to make sure he hasn't bruised his emotions on her indifference too badly.
Kev reaches her, a little underdressed for Aventure, and smiles hesitantly. "Hey, Amber. Uh... how are you?"
"Doing well, keeping busy. How about you?" She greets him with a noncommittal smile, one arm across her stomach, the other at her side. "Haven't seen you around much recently."
"Yeah. Just... busy with school and stuff. I was wondering if you wanted to go... do something some night this week?" He asks with a hopeful, if awkward, smile.
"Hm, maybe. I'll have to see what my schedule's like, work's been keeping me pretty tied up in the evenings recently." She glances over his shoulder, checking out the girl who took her place dancing with her prey, before returning her attention to Kev. "I'll give you a text when I'm in front of a calendar?"
Kev's many things, but he's not stupid. Amber can tell, of course she can tell, that he's hurt. But... He still nods. He still looks at her with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Hope bordering on faith. "Sure. No problem. Just whenever you... have a moment."
"Will do." She stands up on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Distracted as she is by her instinct to resume the hunt, his earnest response reminds her of what she saw in him in the first place, and she reaches around the scratch at the base of his skull, her smile gaining some more genuine affection.
Kev smiles in return, and despite the swell of warmth from the pleasant exchange there's a sort of internal sigh of frustration finally giving way to interest when he finally leaves and lets her get back to hunting - dancing - with this intriguing stranger. He noticed the little exchange and as the song comes to a close he thanks his partner for the dance before giving Amber a look, eyebrow cocked. She can practically hear the words. Are we doing this?
Of course they are. She smiles out of one side of her mouth and tilts her head in a "get over here" gesture.
He only pauses a single moment, just enough to show he's not being jerked forwards by her invitation, that he considered it and found it pleasing and chose to come to her, before walking to Amber's side. "A pleasure to meet you at last," he says with a bit of a wry smile, voice smooth and bearing a hint of some accent that's too dissolute for Amber to place properly - something Southern European, perhaps?
The mystery man is tall, maybe 6' 4". Amber looks up at him, nearly a foot taller than her. He probably would be a foot taller than her, had she not worn platforms tonight. Not an unpleasant thought, that. "The pleasure's all mine. Amber," she offers an introduction and her hands at the same time.
"Marcus." He takes one of her hands gently, and Amber suddenly realizes why she keeps thinking of Siveri when she watches Marcus move - he has the same air of casual restraint, like he's constantly aware that he could break anything he touches, and is always being at least a little careful to avoid it. "Would you do me the honor of a dance?"
She meets his eyes with a smile, completely unafraid. Power is attractive, carefully restrained power even more so. And unlike Siveri, there's every chance that she might be the one choosing how much restraint is involved. "I would be delighted."
Aventure is the right sort of environment for dancing with Marcus. Less wild, passionate movement, and more class and precision. He's not as skilled as Siveri or Lord Wyndham - not any can match the precise grace of a body without physical distractions - but there's a warmth to genuine proximity with a living person that more than makes up for it. She can hear the beating of Marcus's heart as they dance, a slow and reassuring rhythm. "Sorry if I intruded earlier." Marcus says quietly, just for her to hear. "I've been told this is... unofficially your place."
"Oh, no intrusion at all," she tacitly agrees with the second part. This style is more her speed regardless - there's a reason she leaves the wilder nightclubs and frat-houses to Luke and his ilk. The music is even quiet enough that one can have a conversation while dancing, if one's feet are sure and confident enough. Hers are. He's curious - she wonders who told him that this place was hers, and why. "Always pleasant to see new faces. What do you think of Aventure so far?"
"Well, I can hear you talk and won't need to have a doctor examine my ears tomorrow. So that's already a plus." He jokes. "And the company seems charming so far." A quick turn, Amber's miniskirt doing its damnedest to flare outwards like a more substantial garment. "But I must be honest, I was about to leave when I saw you."
"Mm, yes, it's a shame more places..." a pause as she's spun around again, interrupting her reply, "...don't take its lead. No one else strike your fancy?" she replies with a smile agreeing that yes, she is worth sticking around for, and she thinks the same of him.
Amber feels her instincts stretch, stretch, stretch across the gap between their eyes - and she finds a surprisingly resilient will. There's nothing her match here, to flail and snarl against her gentle intrusion, just a strong, disciplined mortal mind. But Amber is an experienced predator. The cloying seduction of her words, her looks, her subtle intimations, all flow over Marcus's mind and find the cracks in that armor. Perhaps he could have resisted a direct command, a violent smashing of main force against those walls - but few fortresses are prepared for the thief in the night. "I wasn't out looking for someone tonight, actually. I normally don't. You changed my mind on the issue." He replies, and there's a little burr of emotion there, a crack in the coy back-and-forth game they've played.
"Just here for the dancing then?" she gently teases. She has no intention of taking advantage of him beyond what he's interested in - no slipping drugs in his drink, as it were. Unlike some, she prefers genuinely willing partners. But they were already playing a game, already on the road to a pleasant end to the evening before her intrusion into his mind. "You don't seem like a student," she pries a bit at the part of him she doesn't understand yet. There's more at play with Marcus than her usual prey, some secret still to be teased out. He didn't come to here to dance. Why did he come?
"I suppose I was, originally." He smiles at Amber. "And no, not a student. An alumnus." He turns Amber elegantly again, a little slower this time. Marcus's hands are warm, and Amber can feel his pulse through them.
"Well, I'm pleased I could change your mind." She gives a little curtsy as the song comes to an end, enjoying the dissonance of curtsying in boots. "I'm an alumnus as well. Seemed a shame to give up my favorite dance hall just because I'd graduated though," she keeps the conversation going, unwilling to let the end of the song part their company.
"If only I'd discovered this place sooner." He laments playfully, leading Amber from the dance floor by one hand. It's charming, in an old-fashioned way. "Perhaps I would have gone looking for more than just dancing more often."
The Hurricane Cafe is a 24-hour diner, a veritable pillar of the community approaching its 20th year of continual operations, making it older than some of those who now frequent its tables at all hours of the day or night, drinking its coffee to help with exams, eating its burgers between classes, and bringing dates there when drinking and dancing have worn out their charm but they're not yet ready to go home. While the interior is kept mostly clean, one can almost feel 20 years of grease seeped into the foundations of the place. Students are mere guests - the Hurricane Cafe is eternal.
Amber and Marcus sip coffee (extremely slowly, in her case - the effects of too much liquid on a dead stomach are unpleasant) and talk of nothing in particular. And finally, as the night grows later and the cafe grows emptier, she leans back in the booth and crosses her arms, giving him a mock-stern look, undermined by a hint of a smile as if they're both in on the joke. "So. Marcus. You heard Aventure was 'unofficially my place.' Did you come looking for me?"
"You specifically? No. I didn't have... a description, as it were. I was told that a woman called Amber who was at the club often knew a great deal about what went on around campus and the neighborhoods nearby." Marcus is remarkably forthright when directly asked - is it the hooks she sank into his perceptions? He hasn't gone slackjawed as some people when Amber puts the moves on them, not like Kev's fawning addoration. In a way it's almost frustrating - it's harder to tell where her will ends and natural emotion or judgment begins.
"That's me," she agrees, uncrossing her arms. "I have my fingers in a lot of pies. You working for someone who wants to do some business nearby?" She edges closer to one of her guesses, that he might represent someone in the underworld reaching out to her. Still easy enough to construe innocently if he's not part of the seedy underbelly of society.
"No, I'm not working for anyone." He smiles slightly. "Just me." As best she can tell he's being honest, which throws away most of her remaining guesses as to his purpose seeking her out. "I was planning to be very professional about the whole thing, but you disarmed me rather handily - you're quite the dancer."
"I can do professional. I do professional all the time, but I'm off the clock at the moment." She laughs, leaning a bit forward, stirring her cooling coffee idly. "Professional about what thing?"
"I was hoping you could help me find someone. I'm not exactly a private eye, and you have fingers in pies, it seems. He goes by the name of Luke, I've heard his last name variously as Grey, Steele, and Bohannon." Marcus shrugs. "I understand if that's... not exactly your area of expertise either."
"I know Luke," she admits easily. "Not my favorite guy, but I've seen him around. Could give you the name of his girlfriend, if you like." She has no compunction about letting him know where to find a fellow vampire - Luke has hardly endeared himself to her, and Marcus doesn't seem like the sort to get up to anything unpleasant by way of Marie.
Marcus blinks, as if surprised it actually was that easy. "While I appreciate that - truly I do - I don't really want to drag anyone else into the matter I don't have to." There's a moment, a slight jerk in the conversation, and Amber can tell he wouldn't normally say this. The moment's hesitation, the slightly strained look in his grey eyes - this is her work pulling information form his mind. "Luke did something... to a friend of mine."
She nods. "He's an asshole like that, yeah. You sure he won't just do the same thing to you, though?" She stops stirring her coffee to look him in the eye. "There are stories about him." It would be a shame if this story ended badly for Marcus because he didn't know what he was getting into.
Marcus sighs and shrugs. "Perhaps. I would certainly prefer he didn't get the chance. But someone has to do something. I don't think anyone else is, so I suppose I'm the someone." There's a sort of mental... shake, like a wet dog drying itself, and Marcus blinks once, his eyes undilating a little.
Amber mirrors his sigh. Really... she wants to help him. But she can't. Telling him where to find Luke is one thing, selling a fellow vampire of the river to someone who clearly means him harm is another. She just... can't tell him about Luke, can't pick a fight with another vampire while she still has Liam on her case, can't warn him away without revealing more than she wants to. All the reasons in the world to stay quiet - and yet...
"I'm not going to tell you not to go after him, but I will say it's a bad idea." She shakes her head, drawing on the table in condensation with a finger. "He usually hangs out at frat and sorority houses in the evenings." She gives Marcus the name of the place where she helped Luke purge his infection. Why did she do that? Honestly she's not entirely sure.
So what now, hangs in the air, now that he's gotten the information he wanted, and her spell has worn off. She wasn't going to drag him back to her den enchanted out of his wits. But he was interested in her before that. And now that he's free again...
He gives her a long look, and for a moment Amber feels almost naked under his gaze, like he can see right through her skin to the unbeating heart underneath. "I appreciate your help. And..." There's a moment of consideration, a weighing of options. "If I haven't ruined the mood too harshly, I'd like to continue enjoying your company."
"I think I've had about all the coffee I want for the moment," she pushes away her mostly cold cup, standing up and offering her hand. "Let's blow this joint. Not the only thing I'm going to blow tonight."
Marcus raises an eyebrow at her sudden crassness, but clearly doesn't mind, chuckling and taking Amber's hand all the same.