[color=6ecff6]Béatrix:[/color]

Béatrix gave Praetor a curt nod as he took a swig of chartreuse and headed off. If one didn’t know any better, they might have taken that whole exchange as friendly and cordial. Trixy wasn’t sure how to feel about it, she was just glad that one less non-Blackmoore vampire was in her presence. She now turned her attention to the others in the room.

Trixy almost breathed a sigh of relief when Alistair said that he’d rather not send her with Adelisa. If Trixy had to spend any amount of time alone with that insufferable brat, surely her gun would put a bullet hole in a vampire’s head, be it Adelisa’s or her own.

When the childlike rogue had the gall to slap the Head of Clan Blackmoore, she nearly sent the barstool hurling at the her, with the hopes that one of the legs would find her heart. Instead of being so brash, she simply growled low in her throat and eyed the girl down until she was finally out of the bar.

Evidently, Alistair shared Trixy’s relief in the girl’s temporary absence. [i]“I can’t believe I ever wanted to become Clan Head.”[/i] he said aloud. Béatrix smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Come now, surely there are some pleasures to being on top?” she said with one eyebrow raised, a wink hidden in the sparkle of her eyes.

[color=9e0b0f]Jareth:[/color]

Jar heard Theo call something along the lines of [i]“Don’t fall for a whore, they’ll just break your heart.”[/i] At that, he gave a hearty chuckle and yelled back at Theo over his shoulder. “Fall? Brother, I never fall.” He said snarkily, with a thick layer of cockiness embedded in his words.

Jareth emerged from the underground catacombs, cloaked in shadows. No vampires, aside from Theo and a select few guards, in this city knew who he was, and he liked that - It gave him the freedom to wander the streets safely. Although he carried a packet of O-neg pills in his pocket, if anyone [i]knew[/i] that he was the supreme vampire drug lord,  he would be killed by someone hoping to take a seat on his throne. But, only he knew the recipe, so that would be a bit for naut. Better to be safe and secretive about the whole thing, regardless.

With his scarlet red guitar strapped to his back, he took to the streets, looking every bit the enticing rock star. The wind tousled his perfectly styled silver and black locks and the sound of leather rubbing together filled the air as he walked. He wore devastatingly tight skinny jeans, a white tank that read “Keep Calm and Rock On” in a trendy fashion, topped with a leather jacket covered in studs and multiple straps and buckles, making it look like a marching band jacket.

He whistled a mysterious melody as he quite literally [i]prowled[/i] the streets.