Post by Xavier Darnai on Jun 20, 2014 12:04:20 GMT
Xavier Darnai: The Overlook Complex; finest in living arrangements for people who truly wanted a place to rest their head without a lot of unexpected visitors, or a lot of unwanted questions. The building itself was quite the modern layout, a series of five loft-style multi-story condominiums stacked on top of each other like puzzle pieces, each with a walk in lobby and a rooftop courtyard style rest area that worked for gatherings and the like. The complex was a series of such buildings surrounding a sort of open courtyard, and that's where Xavier stood, in the courtyard having a cigarette for no real reason while he stared up at the stars and repeatedly thought about how absolutely wrong they were. His heavy warm coat was on over his suit, a simple black number tonight with a dark grey shirt and a matching grey tie. If it hadn't been for the sniper's target at the end of his hand he could have blended into the evening quite nicely.
Obvious Illusion: For Reader, the evening had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Emotions and thoughts were clouded, her eyes narrowed at that tiny phone in her hand. She seemingly slipped it back into her pocket after her thumbs flew like mad over the onscreen keyboard. She looked pale. She looked tired. Suddenly, the effects of Glamour had washed away in all of her anger directed towards that phone as if she didn't have enough to spare to keep up the charade of being something less than human. She hadn't even been paying attention to what street she was on or where she was going. She hadn't even been minding the cross walks or the general direction of people. No, instead, those dual colored eyes were so entirely focused that she was only one of the pact left and wrapped in black, she looked like a force to be reckoned with. And still, her chin was down and at the tiny bleating beep, she whipped that phone out of her pocket again and started like mad at it.
Xavier Darnai: Hearing the device sound off, it caught his attention well enough to pull his head down from the stars and over to the silhouette in the darkness. Raising a brow as he took another hit, he exhaled around him, turning more fully towards her as very keen eyes looked her up and down. "Suppose this's what I get for having a cigarette outside instead've going in'n making an evening in've it, neh?" Flicking at the filter with the thumb of his right hand, he discarded the excess burn off as his pace started towards hers on the simple concrete pathway. Xavier was always mindful of movements, shifts and changes, but considering their last few exchanges he was doubly so. "You're looking better in one sense, though I've got to ask what the devil you're doing here."
Obvious Illusion: "I..." She started in a bit of recoil. It took a moment for the familiar voice to register, after all. She had drawn herself up into straights still clutching the phone and looking like a deer caught in headlights. It wasn't but for a minute that her shoulders seemed to drop and she swallowed hard. Her silhouette was one that could easily be dissolved in the lights from the building and the pollution around her. She whipped her head left and right. And then she turned around again, as if she didn't even recognize where she was. She looked surprised, as if the luxury of familiar surroundings were now gone and the thickness of the air seemed to box her into that tiny little space of a paved sidewalk square that she currently occupied. "I... Was busy. Talking to someone." To Nick, really. Having a blow-out, knock down fight with a young man that wanted facts and demands of consensual feedings. "What are you doing here?!" She peered at him, exasperated as if he had followed her instead of belonging on that very street, in front of that very building. She seemed angry. Her eyes were narrowed in the hint of accusatory features as her teeth clenched and she balled up her one free fist she had.
Xavier Darnai: Glancing from her to the building and back, he pulled his residence ID card out and held it up, letting it sway once on the little chain he'd clipped it to the inside of his jacket with. "I believe I live here." Another hit off the cigarette was taken before he dropped it in front of him, snuffing out the last of it with a slow grinding swivel of his boot. Exhaling the slow plume of smoke and walking through the haze of the nicotine and carcinogen, he closed a bit more distance while hooking his thumb against the pocket of the heavy long coat. "You seem to be in a bad way, love. Doing alright in that head of yours, or has something started to toy with you." Lifting his right hand, he moved to brush it across her forehead, keeping an eye on her for any sudden movements, ready to snap his hand back if she decided to do something snappish like lash out at his arm. He was rather attached to it, after all.
Obvious Illusion: "Oh. Oh..." She blinked again, looking up at that building as he discarded the smoke and came towards her in the haze. She looked at it, wondering just what about it that seemed to have that sense of security already wrapped in it. Of course though, she could have felt that way because the soldier was standing guard by it. She shook her head, lowered her eyes down to her phone and the bleating sound of replies had stopped. She pocketed the menace and still her brows were furrowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just... A little off lately." Since the feeding gone wrong, the fight, the new feeding of the man in front of her.... She didn't really have a problem with anything outside the faction of secrecy except Nicholas and his reminder that she'd only consensually feed. She considered the business dinner and coffee consensual enough, but apparantly Nicholas had taken it upon himself to question her antics and that infuriated her. She seemed to deflate a bit, that chest lowering with the exhale of held breath and she did not lash out physically at Xavier's touch. "Things are jumbled. I'm tired." She confessed this much to him, refraining from leaning into his touch even if she wanted to. She did. She really did... But she just gave him a faulty smile.
Xavier Darnai: "Mm. Come in then, yeah? It's late, it'll be light out soon, no place for a woman like you to be watching the sunrise. I'll pour you a drink, think I've got just the thing for it." The faulty smile was partially returned as he dropped his hand away, a brief glimmer of a living, breathing charming man that certainly seemed meant for moments just like this. His eyes seemed lively, the heartbeat in his chest strong as ever, even a deep breath taken and exhaled in a slow bit of seeming exasperation expressed over the suffering of a friend. Tilting his head back and to the side over his shoulder, he gestured towards the building on the other side of the small grassy knoll at the center of the courtyard. Careful steps were taken backwards, slowly guiding her along to follow.
Obvious Illusion: "I'm sorry." She murmured, the apology for multiple things. For being rude upon arriving to his building, for the discombobulated effort of being upset in thinking he had followed her, and for the brewing headache of mistrust and uncertainty someone else had in her. They were only trying to help, they said. Were they? Could they? She managed a chuckle and shook her head. "I don't think any alcohol would be good at this point." Granted, there were so many different drinks. The allurist side of her no doubt had no problem with swallowing them. Her phone removed from the equation, she questioned Xavier. "What do you do when people don't believe you?" Such an interesting way to continue the evening as she stepped towards him, following him towards the door despite her eyes being full of anger that was mixed with hurt.
Xavier Darnai: "Never said anything about alcohol, love." His pace continued, rounding the side of the knoll and on over to the door. Regardin her question for a moment, he gave his own sort of quiet laugh, raising his brows once as eyes closed in a familiar face of quiet acceptance. "Typically they breathe. Though in your case I'm sure we can find an exception to that particular rule, neh?" Slipping through the door and holding it open for her, he gave a nod to the guard at the desk, approaching to show his residence ID before making his way on to the elevators with Reader. By the time he got there, the doors were already opening, a spacious little lift done with the same decorum of the lobby, a marble floor, wooden walls with brushed chrome trimmings. Holding his card to the panel, he pressed the middle button, holding his bandaged hand in the doorway to make sure she could follow along if she still wished to. He was undoubtedly giving her the choice at every step.
Obvious Illusion: "No, I know. I know you didn't." She said that bit to him quietly. She spoke it even as she knew he hadn't. She assumed. She at least, got her thoughts across to him in that respect. She didn't want alcohol. It probably wouldn't do her any good in the state she was in. She looked to Xavier as he proclaimed his ID and flashed it to the one behind the counter. She frowned. It was a good thing to have the guard at the desk. And she looked over her shoulder. It was going to be dawn soon. "I didn't realize..." She said, offhandedly and perhaps more to herself. The conversation seemed broken. Daniel had teased her that she needed a caretaker once upon a time. Reader had been more accident prone. She also had issues with being transfixed. She could spend hours doing one thing and get sidetracked. Her artistry could keep her enthralled for days and she lost track of time. Nicholas had suggested this, that she was too ravenous and she had become defensive. She was in her full mind when she fed. She thought... at least. Her eyebrows pinched together again as she followed Xavier into the elevator. She seemed to breath deeply, taking in the scents around her and the fixtures. She took in the colors and her mind worked on how Walker could eventually be upset and get wind about this feeding mishap. More upset that she didn't get permission than just accepting their invitation into their room as an ability to take their blood. She seemed distracted. Unsure of herself. The purse upon her shoulder constantly shifted, her hand clutching the straps while she watched the numbers climb on the panel. "Exceptions aren't always a good thing." She murmured, taking a moment now to look over to the man next to her.
Xavier Darnai: "Well, I don't think breathing's going to be a telltale sign that you don't believe me, so..." As the doors closed and the lift smoothly pulled itself up the central point n the building, he slowly turned his head to hers. Soft chimes sounded every few seconds; first condo, second condo, third condo. It stopped there and the doors slid open into a small walkway meant as a greeting area. "...what'll be your sign then." Stepping off of the lift and into the little foyer with no windows or exits other than the elevator and a rather sturdy looking door, he unlocked it at the number pad and pulled the door open, offering her entry into his den. "To be honest, I'd be shocked if you trusted me completely, almost no one does that, and you certainly don't seem the type, exceptions or not." His accent was still unmistakably British but away from the possibility of other prying eyes and curious ears, it seemed that many of the forced conjunctions had been dropped, almost as though a switch had been flipped and he refined his verbal habits almost immediately. The inside of his condo, however, should have been no surprise. Sleek, refined, well maintained and decorated. Mahogany wood floors seemed to surround a deep, lush red carpet, a modern kitchen and wet bar off to one side and a series of couches and chairs to the other, as well as stairs that seemed to lead up to a loft overhead. Straight on, a wall of glass that looked out over the city, and a sliding door that gave access to the balcony that rounded the living space.
Obvious Illusion: "Breathing?" She questioned him. She seemed to take that one word from his sentence and not gather an understanding. They were talking about exceptions, after all. How could breathing be an exception. His sarcasm surely stayed the same. Once off the elevator and into his domain, Reader wandered about the powered lock and the way it -shlinked- closed behind them. In fact, she even looked over her shoulder in doing it. There was something different. Something odd about each new residence she penetrated. This was interesting. It was where he called home, she assumed. This was his very haven, the place he went for peace and quiet and he invited her in. She let her shoulders slouch, but yet her purse remained completely with her person. She looked, but refused touch. She liked to touch things, after all. She could spend hours touching things. As a very textile person, the Toreador had given up on reading people through their items. Often her thoughts were wrong and the feelings associated with them had dwindled. That ability was not strong enough and she watched him in front of her. "Trust?" Again, she seemed a little dazed. All this new bombardment of his items. Of the devices. Of the colors. She hadn't really had time to process anything and he wanted to make conversation. Her face scrunched up. Her look seemed completely lost now. Her focus seemed to have been shredded between that iPhone conversation earlier and the elevator ride up. "Trust is earned. Trust can be freely given. Hurt only when double-crossed or wronged. Why wouldn't I trust you?" Reader understood his last statement. "I don't have much trust left for some."
Xavier Darnai: His heavy, warm jacket was the first thing to go, slipped off of his shoulders and let rest on a hook on the wall by the door, he started with his suit jacket as well. As it came off, it revealed the very nature of the soldier she knew him to be. A black shoulder holster and harness he wore beneath the suit jacket, filled with items; a firearm and some magazines, a straight edged knife with an ivory grip. Yet he started to peel it off as well, setting it in a chair before draping his suit jacket over the back of it, hiding it from view. Immediately after, he began to roll up his sleeves, moving over towards the kitchen and bar. "An old joke. I was once told that I could tell if a person thought I'd lied to them by whether or not they were breathing." His brow bounced once, and he gave a light shake of his head. "It had been meant to imply that anyone living should know better than to trust me, but that does seem a touch short sighted, doesn't it." Looking over his shoulder as he rounded the black concrete counter top, he looked to her with a tilt of his head. "The beauty of it all Reader is that you don't need to trust me. I've no intention of doing anything unwanted, and your level of trust is not going to change that." Opening a little wine cooler behind the counter, he pulled out a chilled bottle; squared with a wide cap. Turning around, he set it into something akin to a wine chiller and pressed the button to get it started. It wouldn't take long at all to be ready. "I'm assuming you prefer it at a natural temperature, or at least not chilled."
Obvious Illusion: She heard the rustle of his clothing behind her. She only assumed that he was getting comfortable within the confines of his own home. It was certainly spacious and she enjoyed the open floor plan. She nodded absently to his old joke reference and lifted a hand to brush away and through her hair. It was free that evening, nothing restraining the lax waves that humidity seemed to have played with. "I trust. I trust some. I trust enough to get through the moment." See, the thing was, was that Reader really didn't have any expectations of anyone else. She didn't strive to fit a mold or to push someone into a fabricated, pre-formed mold. Instead, she liked to garnish herself as pretty accepting of everyone's life. Sure, she had hits and misses, but at the moment she seemed to have the proverbial death wish. She walked into things. She didn't think she lived on the edge. She was forgetful. She had a few issues in focusing. She enjoyed the extravagent pleasured in life - a cigarette or some chocolate without too many ruffled feathers. And here, she had gotten a small lecture about feeding and another's expectations. "Right, not too cold." No, Reader liked most of her drinks a little warmer than room temperature unless is was alcohol and she was on a mission for forgetting a night. "It's a beautiful place you have here." Rustic. Sleek. Modern with a twist of traditional. She nodded, accepting it. Like it, but she needed to sit down and she chose something close to where he was working.
Xavier Darnai: A pair of stools meant for drinks at the island counter would do perfectly, and as the temperature box chimed he popped it open and removed the bottle, turning to her before setting a pair of tumblers on the counter. He knew some favored the prestige of a wine glass, and while he thought that was pretentious for its own reasons in most cases, for this particular bottle the chosen glass seemed proper. Removing the exceptionally well sealed cap, he set it on the counter and poured two glasses. His measure with the viscous fluid wasn't nearly as accurate as his pour with a bottle of Scotch, it was obvious he had not had nearly as much practice. Still the bandaged fingers gripped the neck of the bottle, and with the discipline of an alcoholic he prevented spilling even a single drop as he let the bottle rest open on the counter top. Sliding one of them towards her, he picked up his own, clicking the base of his to the rim of hers. "To the last bloody shot."
Obvious Illusion: Regarding the man before she regarded the drink, she watched the liquid filling the tumblers. Of course, she had an idea to open her mouth and question him - but, she cared not to bite the hand that fed her a drink. To reciprocate, she lifted the tumbler towards his and completed the toasting with him. "To the last bloody shot." And with that, she would bring the glass to her lips and take the fluid upon her tongue. And it tingled. Not, in a literal way. No, it was the familiarity of the drink that her had swallowing until the liquid only coated the inside of the glass and another drop could not be breached upon her tongue. Fingers pried away the tumbler from her mouth and she set it back upon the counter between them. She eyed the glass as if it were its own fault for such a tasty morsel of liquid bestowed upon it. "That is an excellent vintage." And she seemed to smile his way. But, that smile still didn't seem to reach her eyes. Nodding her chin towards the warmer, she commented upon it. "That's quite a fancy contraption."
Xavier Darnai: Tilting his glass back as he took a long pull, he cleared the red off his lips as he lowered the glass to the counter before picking up the bottle again, turning it to read the cryptic label he had put on it. "August of two thousand three, first week. I was getting ready for a trip to Zanzibar." Raising his brow, he noted her empty glass and gave another pour before setting the bottle down again and looking back to the device. "Mm. I've been fortunate enough to have access to some particularly niche products and developments." Motioning to it with his glass, he took another sip of the red liquid as though it were a particularly syrupy Scotch. "That one was something that came out've a very quiet rush to provide modern assistance to the sort of introverted types who would rather not run risk of a food poisoning." Looking over his shoulder at her again, he turned back towards her and leaned forward against the counter. "What's got you so bloody gun shy about this love." He lift the glass, giving it a slow stir to specify the subject of his question while his eyes locked on her. She still looked a damn shaky mess.
Obvious Illusion: The Toreador's eyes seemed to fall to the empty glass. She settled her intents upon it as if because she were looking so hard at the glass she wouldn't have to look at Xavier. "Two thousand three?" Vintage, indeed. She shuddered a bit, just knowing the blood that she had swallowed somehow was too familiar not to be his in a way. Though she shook her head. She still remained uptight. She still sat there with her suit jacket on, her purse strapped to her shoulder and side, and that defensive set to her shoulders. "Gun shy about what?" She tilted her chin then, lifting her face to his. The way he leaned over caused her no alarm. It might have, earlier. When she barely knew him - but now, she was comfortable with his antics and the way his body insinuated itself. "I don't know what you mean..."
Xavier Darnai: "Wasn't a bad year." Offering half of a nod, he brought his glass up and took another sip. Some might say he was literally drinking himself to death a decade ago, but oh they should see him now. "You look like you're ready to run for the door any second..." He motioned to the strap of her purse, sloshing his glass softly as he did so. "...and like you haven't had a solid night's rest in a week, or anything near a full meal in longer. You're distracted, you do not seem like the typically very self assure and confident Reader I've run into on multiple occasions."
Obvious Illusion: "One could say I don't recover well." The masochist that she was, Reader had often replayed the situation in her head. She had replayed that night, over and over again and tried to find fault with what she was. She tried to think, in the time that Nicholas' question had alerted her to some type of further wrong doing. She was a beast. She was an abomination. She knew he was trying to help her, but it didn't come out that way. It came out as a smack in the face instead of letting barking dogs lie. She took a deep breath, shook her head. Her lax tendrils dipped and danced over the collas of her jacket and she tried to force herself to drop her purse onto the counter at his notice. "I didn't do anything wrong. They invited me up for drinks after dinner. Coffee. Whatever. They invited me." She said, as if she did no wrong in taking the couple's poisonous blood. How was she to know there was a squabble amongst the holistic couple? "It was a mistake." Reader had often torn herself down, debased herself mentally for the wrongs of another or the bits that fell through in her life. It took her a while to rebuild her walls. And unfortunately, Xavier has seen the Toreador's side that was certainly a little too nerve-wracked to almost stand. She pressed her palms to her thighs to keep the shaking fingers out of sight while his vintage blood plundged through her system.
Obvious Illusion: For Reader, the evening had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Emotions and thoughts were clouded, her eyes narrowed at that tiny phone in her hand. She seemingly slipped it back into her pocket after her thumbs flew like mad over the onscreen keyboard. She looked pale. She looked tired. Suddenly, the effects of Glamour had washed away in all of her anger directed towards that phone as if she didn't have enough to spare to keep up the charade of being something less than human. She hadn't even been paying attention to what street she was on or where she was going. She hadn't even been minding the cross walks or the general direction of people. No, instead, those dual colored eyes were so entirely focused that she was only one of the pact left and wrapped in black, she looked like a force to be reckoned with. And still, her chin was down and at the tiny bleating beep, she whipped that phone out of her pocket again and started like mad at it.
Xavier Darnai: Hearing the device sound off, it caught his attention well enough to pull his head down from the stars and over to the silhouette in the darkness. Raising a brow as he took another hit, he exhaled around him, turning more fully towards her as very keen eyes looked her up and down. "Suppose this's what I get for having a cigarette outside instead've going in'n making an evening in've it, neh?" Flicking at the filter with the thumb of his right hand, he discarded the excess burn off as his pace started towards hers on the simple concrete pathway. Xavier was always mindful of movements, shifts and changes, but considering their last few exchanges he was doubly so. "You're looking better in one sense, though I've got to ask what the devil you're doing here."
Obvious Illusion: "I..." She started in a bit of recoil. It took a moment for the familiar voice to register, after all. She had drawn herself up into straights still clutching the phone and looking like a deer caught in headlights. It wasn't but for a minute that her shoulders seemed to drop and she swallowed hard. Her silhouette was one that could easily be dissolved in the lights from the building and the pollution around her. She whipped her head left and right. And then she turned around again, as if she didn't even recognize where she was. She looked surprised, as if the luxury of familiar surroundings were now gone and the thickness of the air seemed to box her into that tiny little space of a paved sidewalk square that she currently occupied. "I... Was busy. Talking to someone." To Nick, really. Having a blow-out, knock down fight with a young man that wanted facts and demands of consensual feedings. "What are you doing here?!" She peered at him, exasperated as if he had followed her instead of belonging on that very street, in front of that very building. She seemed angry. Her eyes were narrowed in the hint of accusatory features as her teeth clenched and she balled up her one free fist she had.
Xavier Darnai: Glancing from her to the building and back, he pulled his residence ID card out and held it up, letting it sway once on the little chain he'd clipped it to the inside of his jacket with. "I believe I live here." Another hit off the cigarette was taken before he dropped it in front of him, snuffing out the last of it with a slow grinding swivel of his boot. Exhaling the slow plume of smoke and walking through the haze of the nicotine and carcinogen, he closed a bit more distance while hooking his thumb against the pocket of the heavy long coat. "You seem to be in a bad way, love. Doing alright in that head of yours, or has something started to toy with you." Lifting his right hand, he moved to brush it across her forehead, keeping an eye on her for any sudden movements, ready to snap his hand back if she decided to do something snappish like lash out at his arm. He was rather attached to it, after all.
Obvious Illusion: "Oh. Oh..." She blinked again, looking up at that building as he discarded the smoke and came towards her in the haze. She looked at it, wondering just what about it that seemed to have that sense of security already wrapped in it. Of course though, she could have felt that way because the soldier was standing guard by it. She shook her head, lowered her eyes down to her phone and the bleating sound of replies had stopped. She pocketed the menace and still her brows were furrowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just... A little off lately." Since the feeding gone wrong, the fight, the new feeding of the man in front of her.... She didn't really have a problem with anything outside the faction of secrecy except Nicholas and his reminder that she'd only consensually feed. She considered the business dinner and coffee consensual enough, but apparantly Nicholas had taken it upon himself to question her antics and that infuriated her. She seemed to deflate a bit, that chest lowering with the exhale of held breath and she did not lash out physically at Xavier's touch. "Things are jumbled. I'm tired." She confessed this much to him, refraining from leaning into his touch even if she wanted to. She did. She really did... But she just gave him a faulty smile.
Xavier Darnai: "Mm. Come in then, yeah? It's late, it'll be light out soon, no place for a woman like you to be watching the sunrise. I'll pour you a drink, think I've got just the thing for it." The faulty smile was partially returned as he dropped his hand away, a brief glimmer of a living, breathing charming man that certainly seemed meant for moments just like this. His eyes seemed lively, the heartbeat in his chest strong as ever, even a deep breath taken and exhaled in a slow bit of seeming exasperation expressed over the suffering of a friend. Tilting his head back and to the side over his shoulder, he gestured towards the building on the other side of the small grassy knoll at the center of the courtyard. Careful steps were taken backwards, slowly guiding her along to follow.
Obvious Illusion: "I'm sorry." She murmured, the apology for multiple things. For being rude upon arriving to his building, for the discombobulated effort of being upset in thinking he had followed her, and for the brewing headache of mistrust and uncertainty someone else had in her. They were only trying to help, they said. Were they? Could they? She managed a chuckle and shook her head. "I don't think any alcohol would be good at this point." Granted, there were so many different drinks. The allurist side of her no doubt had no problem with swallowing them. Her phone removed from the equation, she questioned Xavier. "What do you do when people don't believe you?" Such an interesting way to continue the evening as she stepped towards him, following him towards the door despite her eyes being full of anger that was mixed with hurt.
Xavier Darnai: "Never said anything about alcohol, love." His pace continued, rounding the side of the knoll and on over to the door. Regardin her question for a moment, he gave his own sort of quiet laugh, raising his brows once as eyes closed in a familiar face of quiet acceptance. "Typically they breathe. Though in your case I'm sure we can find an exception to that particular rule, neh?" Slipping through the door and holding it open for her, he gave a nod to the guard at the desk, approaching to show his residence ID before making his way on to the elevators with Reader. By the time he got there, the doors were already opening, a spacious little lift done with the same decorum of the lobby, a marble floor, wooden walls with brushed chrome trimmings. Holding his card to the panel, he pressed the middle button, holding his bandaged hand in the doorway to make sure she could follow along if she still wished to. He was undoubtedly giving her the choice at every step.
Obvious Illusion: "No, I know. I know you didn't." She said that bit to him quietly. She spoke it even as she knew he hadn't. She assumed. She at least, got her thoughts across to him in that respect. She didn't want alcohol. It probably wouldn't do her any good in the state she was in. She looked to Xavier as he proclaimed his ID and flashed it to the one behind the counter. She frowned. It was a good thing to have the guard at the desk. And she looked over her shoulder. It was going to be dawn soon. "I didn't realize..." She said, offhandedly and perhaps more to herself. The conversation seemed broken. Daniel had teased her that she needed a caretaker once upon a time. Reader had been more accident prone. She also had issues with being transfixed. She could spend hours doing one thing and get sidetracked. Her artistry could keep her enthralled for days and she lost track of time. Nicholas had suggested this, that she was too ravenous and she had become defensive. She was in her full mind when she fed. She thought... at least. Her eyebrows pinched together again as she followed Xavier into the elevator. She seemed to breath deeply, taking in the scents around her and the fixtures. She took in the colors and her mind worked on how Walker could eventually be upset and get wind about this feeding mishap. More upset that she didn't get permission than just accepting their invitation into their room as an ability to take their blood. She seemed distracted. Unsure of herself. The purse upon her shoulder constantly shifted, her hand clutching the straps while she watched the numbers climb on the panel. "Exceptions aren't always a good thing." She murmured, taking a moment now to look over to the man next to her.
Xavier Darnai: "Well, I don't think breathing's going to be a telltale sign that you don't believe me, so..." As the doors closed and the lift smoothly pulled itself up the central point n the building, he slowly turned his head to hers. Soft chimes sounded every few seconds; first condo, second condo, third condo. It stopped there and the doors slid open into a small walkway meant as a greeting area. "...what'll be your sign then." Stepping off of the lift and into the little foyer with no windows or exits other than the elevator and a rather sturdy looking door, he unlocked it at the number pad and pulled the door open, offering her entry into his den. "To be honest, I'd be shocked if you trusted me completely, almost no one does that, and you certainly don't seem the type, exceptions or not." His accent was still unmistakably British but away from the possibility of other prying eyes and curious ears, it seemed that many of the forced conjunctions had been dropped, almost as though a switch had been flipped and he refined his verbal habits almost immediately. The inside of his condo, however, should have been no surprise. Sleek, refined, well maintained and decorated. Mahogany wood floors seemed to surround a deep, lush red carpet, a modern kitchen and wet bar off to one side and a series of couches and chairs to the other, as well as stairs that seemed to lead up to a loft overhead. Straight on, a wall of glass that looked out over the city, and a sliding door that gave access to the balcony that rounded the living space.
Obvious Illusion: "Breathing?" She questioned him. She seemed to take that one word from his sentence and not gather an understanding. They were talking about exceptions, after all. How could breathing be an exception. His sarcasm surely stayed the same. Once off the elevator and into his domain, Reader wandered about the powered lock and the way it -shlinked- closed behind them. In fact, she even looked over her shoulder in doing it. There was something different. Something odd about each new residence she penetrated. This was interesting. It was where he called home, she assumed. This was his very haven, the place he went for peace and quiet and he invited her in. She let her shoulders slouch, but yet her purse remained completely with her person. She looked, but refused touch. She liked to touch things, after all. She could spend hours touching things. As a very textile person, the Toreador had given up on reading people through their items. Often her thoughts were wrong and the feelings associated with them had dwindled. That ability was not strong enough and she watched him in front of her. "Trust?" Again, she seemed a little dazed. All this new bombardment of his items. Of the devices. Of the colors. She hadn't really had time to process anything and he wanted to make conversation. Her face scrunched up. Her look seemed completely lost now. Her focus seemed to have been shredded between that iPhone conversation earlier and the elevator ride up. "Trust is earned. Trust can be freely given. Hurt only when double-crossed or wronged. Why wouldn't I trust you?" Reader understood his last statement. "I don't have much trust left for some."
Xavier Darnai: His heavy, warm jacket was the first thing to go, slipped off of his shoulders and let rest on a hook on the wall by the door, he started with his suit jacket as well. As it came off, it revealed the very nature of the soldier she knew him to be. A black shoulder holster and harness he wore beneath the suit jacket, filled with items; a firearm and some magazines, a straight edged knife with an ivory grip. Yet he started to peel it off as well, setting it in a chair before draping his suit jacket over the back of it, hiding it from view. Immediately after, he began to roll up his sleeves, moving over towards the kitchen and bar. "An old joke. I was once told that I could tell if a person thought I'd lied to them by whether or not they were breathing." His brow bounced once, and he gave a light shake of his head. "It had been meant to imply that anyone living should know better than to trust me, but that does seem a touch short sighted, doesn't it." Looking over his shoulder as he rounded the black concrete counter top, he looked to her with a tilt of his head. "The beauty of it all Reader is that you don't need to trust me. I've no intention of doing anything unwanted, and your level of trust is not going to change that." Opening a little wine cooler behind the counter, he pulled out a chilled bottle; squared with a wide cap. Turning around, he set it into something akin to a wine chiller and pressed the button to get it started. It wouldn't take long at all to be ready. "I'm assuming you prefer it at a natural temperature, or at least not chilled."
Obvious Illusion: She heard the rustle of his clothing behind her. She only assumed that he was getting comfortable within the confines of his own home. It was certainly spacious and she enjoyed the open floor plan. She nodded absently to his old joke reference and lifted a hand to brush away and through her hair. It was free that evening, nothing restraining the lax waves that humidity seemed to have played with. "I trust. I trust some. I trust enough to get through the moment." See, the thing was, was that Reader really didn't have any expectations of anyone else. She didn't strive to fit a mold or to push someone into a fabricated, pre-formed mold. Instead, she liked to garnish herself as pretty accepting of everyone's life. Sure, she had hits and misses, but at the moment she seemed to have the proverbial death wish. She walked into things. She didn't think she lived on the edge. She was forgetful. She had a few issues in focusing. She enjoyed the extravagent pleasured in life - a cigarette or some chocolate without too many ruffled feathers. And here, she had gotten a small lecture about feeding and another's expectations. "Right, not too cold." No, Reader liked most of her drinks a little warmer than room temperature unless is was alcohol and she was on a mission for forgetting a night. "It's a beautiful place you have here." Rustic. Sleek. Modern with a twist of traditional. She nodded, accepting it. Like it, but she needed to sit down and she chose something close to where he was working.
Xavier Darnai: A pair of stools meant for drinks at the island counter would do perfectly, and as the temperature box chimed he popped it open and removed the bottle, turning to her before setting a pair of tumblers on the counter. He knew some favored the prestige of a wine glass, and while he thought that was pretentious for its own reasons in most cases, for this particular bottle the chosen glass seemed proper. Removing the exceptionally well sealed cap, he set it on the counter and poured two glasses. His measure with the viscous fluid wasn't nearly as accurate as his pour with a bottle of Scotch, it was obvious he had not had nearly as much practice. Still the bandaged fingers gripped the neck of the bottle, and with the discipline of an alcoholic he prevented spilling even a single drop as he let the bottle rest open on the counter top. Sliding one of them towards her, he picked up his own, clicking the base of his to the rim of hers. "To the last bloody shot."
Obvious Illusion: Regarding the man before she regarded the drink, she watched the liquid filling the tumblers. Of course, she had an idea to open her mouth and question him - but, she cared not to bite the hand that fed her a drink. To reciprocate, she lifted the tumbler towards his and completed the toasting with him. "To the last bloody shot." And with that, she would bring the glass to her lips and take the fluid upon her tongue. And it tingled. Not, in a literal way. No, it was the familiarity of the drink that her had swallowing until the liquid only coated the inside of the glass and another drop could not be breached upon her tongue. Fingers pried away the tumbler from her mouth and she set it back upon the counter between them. She eyed the glass as if it were its own fault for such a tasty morsel of liquid bestowed upon it. "That is an excellent vintage." And she seemed to smile his way. But, that smile still didn't seem to reach her eyes. Nodding her chin towards the warmer, she commented upon it. "That's quite a fancy contraption."
Xavier Darnai: Tilting his glass back as he took a long pull, he cleared the red off his lips as he lowered the glass to the counter before picking up the bottle again, turning it to read the cryptic label he had put on it. "August of two thousand three, first week. I was getting ready for a trip to Zanzibar." Raising his brow, he noted her empty glass and gave another pour before setting the bottle down again and looking back to the device. "Mm. I've been fortunate enough to have access to some particularly niche products and developments." Motioning to it with his glass, he took another sip of the red liquid as though it were a particularly syrupy Scotch. "That one was something that came out've a very quiet rush to provide modern assistance to the sort of introverted types who would rather not run risk of a food poisoning." Looking over his shoulder at her again, he turned back towards her and leaned forward against the counter. "What's got you so bloody gun shy about this love." He lift the glass, giving it a slow stir to specify the subject of his question while his eyes locked on her. She still looked a damn shaky mess.
Obvious Illusion: The Toreador's eyes seemed to fall to the empty glass. She settled her intents upon it as if because she were looking so hard at the glass she wouldn't have to look at Xavier. "Two thousand three?" Vintage, indeed. She shuddered a bit, just knowing the blood that she had swallowed somehow was too familiar not to be his in a way. Though she shook her head. She still remained uptight. She still sat there with her suit jacket on, her purse strapped to her shoulder and side, and that defensive set to her shoulders. "Gun shy about what?" She tilted her chin then, lifting her face to his. The way he leaned over caused her no alarm. It might have, earlier. When she barely knew him - but now, she was comfortable with his antics and the way his body insinuated itself. "I don't know what you mean..."
Xavier Darnai: "Wasn't a bad year." Offering half of a nod, he brought his glass up and took another sip. Some might say he was literally drinking himself to death a decade ago, but oh they should see him now. "You look like you're ready to run for the door any second..." He motioned to the strap of her purse, sloshing his glass softly as he did so. "...and like you haven't had a solid night's rest in a week, or anything near a full meal in longer. You're distracted, you do not seem like the typically very self assure and confident Reader I've run into on multiple occasions."
Obvious Illusion: "One could say I don't recover well." The masochist that she was, Reader had often replayed the situation in her head. She had replayed that night, over and over again and tried to find fault with what she was. She tried to think, in the time that Nicholas' question had alerted her to some type of further wrong doing. She was a beast. She was an abomination. She knew he was trying to help her, but it didn't come out that way. It came out as a smack in the face instead of letting barking dogs lie. She took a deep breath, shook her head. Her lax tendrils dipped and danced over the collas of her jacket and she tried to force herself to drop her purse onto the counter at his notice. "I didn't do anything wrong. They invited me up for drinks after dinner. Coffee. Whatever. They invited me." She said, as if she did no wrong in taking the couple's poisonous blood. How was she to know there was a squabble amongst the holistic couple? "It was a mistake." Reader had often torn herself down, debased herself mentally for the wrongs of another or the bits that fell through in her life. It took her a while to rebuild her walls. And unfortunately, Xavier has seen the Toreador's side that was certainly a little too nerve-wracked to almost stand. She pressed her palms to her thighs to keep the shaking fingers out of sight while his vintage blood plundged through her system.
