[h3] [color=ed1c24]Elizabeth Parks | 8:00 pm | Grangrel[/color] [/h3]

 [color=9e0b0f] A boisterous woman slinked around the corner, into the dimly lit room. She was wearing a simple nightdress, black with red and gold embroidery outlining all of her assets. Within the room there was a large bed, and sweet smelling incense filled the room with a strong scent of jasmine. A man sat on the bed, ugly and sweating and filled with lust. This woman, this... creature swayed towards him slowly, ever so slightly hiking up her skirt with each step. The man began to sweat even more, and she could [i] feel [/i] his heart beating loudly, filling her mind with that drumming pulse of life. She liked her men this way. And did they ever like her. Eventually, she was standing over the man, and her skirt was nearly revealing some of her more private areas. She flung out her hair bun, letting wavy light blonde locks fall over her body. And then the speaker came on, ruining it all. It scared the man, making his heart rate go even more wild than before, and Elizabeth couldn't help herself. She pulled out the knife from her stockings and slashed the man's throat swiftly, only allowing him to make a small cry as she latched onto the wound with her beautiful lips, slowly draining her meal. When he was gone, the creature walked out of the room, and down the hall towards a bathing room. A servant passed her, and stared at the ground. The body would be gone by the time she returned. She entered the bathing room, stripping herself of any remaining layers and sinking into a waiting tub of hot water. Her servants knew whenever she needed to be fed, she was to have a bath ready afterwards. She washed off the filth of the man, and behind her a servant entered, picking up her sullied nightgown and taking it out of the room quickly, once again with downcast eyes. Elizabeth didn't bother covering up. She was confident in her body. She finished up in her bath, and dried herself with imported cotton. She walked nude down the hall, to her true bedroom. It was larger than her prey room, and she was greeted by two of her whores, whose names she did not know. All of her servants were sold on the side. Why not make money by having people serve you? The girls dressed her, tightening her corset until it was firmly squeezing her abdomen into a suitable shape. She put her hair up into her signature bun. Now she was Elizabeth Parks, the image of elegant. She waltzed out of the room without regarding her servants once, humming a light tune. She ascended stairs, heading for the surface, where her establishment lay. If Amaury wanted to speak to her, he would come pay her a visit, she knew. The woman who had spoken from the wall had said something about London, but Elizabeth wasn't sure of the details in her bloodlust state. She came out of her dark passage, and into the candlelight. Moans filled the air, and she listened to the chorus for a moment before swooping down the hallway and into the inn. The lobby was mostly empty, save for a few strangers that did not greet her. She swept past this and out of the front door. Her inn was across the street from the Phoenix and Quill, and it took her no time at all to dance across the street in the moonlight, gliding into the tavern with a smile on her face. The tobacco smoke hit her hard, and she reached into her dress sleeve, withdrawing a finely crafted pipe with beautiful intricate designs engraved into its surface. She motioned for a random man to fill it with tobacco, and for another man to light it. She was well known around these parts. She held the pipe with graceful beauty, stepping over to the corner of the room, where she sank into a booth, making conversation with some random stranger who she could use the next time she got hungry.[/color]