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Aveline screamed a vile list of French profanities as she threw a glass perfume spritzer at her dressing rooms ornate full length mirror starting a cobweb of cracks from the impact. She had not long come off stage for the night when Sinnett- her sire, entered through her rooms side door.
"That little BITCH! I want her here NOW! Petite chienne sale sec!" While Aveline's native tongue had faded over the years she could still flawlessly curse, each word rolling like sweet song to the ear. "Did you SEE! Did you see what she did! It was intentional! She wanted him for herself, SALOPE!" With dramatic flair she flung her jewelled headpiece off which tonights burlesque performance required, she furiously paced the room in all but a few appropriately placed pieces of sequenced fabric.
Sinnett gently smiled at his tempestuous childe as he gathered one of her pretty silk robes, holding it open and motioning for her to dress "Mon renard It was only an accident, it wasn't intentional". He was referring to the young waitress who accidentally bumped the table of Aveline's mark interrupting her dominating gaze. Aveline continued muttering in tongue as she slipped on the silk over her milky white skin "He is a waste of your talent... You are too exquisite for that old fool." he purred into her ear.
Aveline turned to face her sire, his frost blue eyes still as mesmerising as the first time she saw them. A small smile creeped across her cherry red painted lips "I am aren't I" she relished in her sires words as she sauntered over to her dressing table, sitting on top and ever so enticingly ladylike crossing her legs.
"Besides, I want you to take little trip.." Sinnett played with his gold vintage pocket watch that he kept attached to his wool grey suit vest. For all the years that they have been together his still preferred to dress in the old styles, mind you it suited him to a tee "I want you to go to Washington." he added.
"Why?.... It's such a mundane place" she groaned. Her last visit was decades ago, a short stay for Aveline as it lacked a certain glamour that she found appealing.
"I have been ever so gracefully requested by the cities Prince, A Ventrue I believe" Sinnett moved closer.
Aveline rolled honey coloured eyes "and your not a dog that will be called to heel" unimpressed she slid off the dresser "So your sending me instead..."
"Exactly mon renard.... You will be my representative at their little Camarilla gathering, Tristan will go with you, he will tell you what you need to know."
The room was lavishly furnished and dimly lit with a soft golden glow creating shadows along the will lined with elaborate masks and feathered head pieces as they moved with a few inches of each other, Aveline reached her fingers into his soft curling mop like sandy blonde hair, she could feel it in her body that he was up to something.
Before he eagerly embraced her mouth he muttered "Les conseils d'un renard est dangereux pour les poulets."
His reason became clear to her at that moment.
Mon Renard- French for 'my fox'
"The advice of a fox is dangerous for chickens"
"That little BITCH! I want her here NOW! Petite chienne sale sec!" While Aveline's native tongue had faded over the years she could still flawlessly curse, each word rolling like sweet song to the ear. "Did you SEE! Did you see what she did! It was intentional! She wanted him for herself, SALOPE!" With dramatic flair she flung her jewelled headpiece off which tonights burlesque performance required, she furiously paced the room in all but a few appropriately placed pieces of sequenced fabric.
Sinnett gently smiled at his tempestuous childe as he gathered one of her pretty silk robes, holding it open and motioning for her to dress "Mon renard It was only an accident, it wasn't intentional". He was referring to the young waitress who accidentally bumped the table of Aveline's mark interrupting her dominating gaze. Aveline continued muttering in tongue as she slipped on the silk over her milky white skin "He is a waste of your talent... You are too exquisite for that old fool." he purred into her ear.
Aveline turned to face her sire, his frost blue eyes still as mesmerising as the first time she saw them. A small smile creeped across her cherry red painted lips "I am aren't I" she relished in her sires words as she sauntered over to her dressing table, sitting on top and ever so enticingly ladylike crossing her legs.
"Besides, I want you to take little trip.." Sinnett played with his gold vintage pocket watch that he kept attached to his wool grey suit vest. For all the years that they have been together his still preferred to dress in the old styles, mind you it suited him to a tee "I want you to go to Washington." he added.
"Why?.... It's such a mundane place" she groaned. Her last visit was decades ago, a short stay for Aveline as it lacked a certain glamour that she found appealing.
"I have been ever so gracefully requested by the cities Prince, A Ventrue I believe" Sinnett moved closer.
Aveline rolled honey coloured eyes "and your not a dog that will be called to heel" unimpressed she slid off the dresser "So your sending me instead..."
"Exactly mon renard.... You will be my representative at their little Camarilla gathering, Tristan will go with you, he will tell you what you need to know."
The room was lavishly furnished and dimly lit with a soft golden glow creating shadows along the will lined with elaborate masks and feathered head pieces as they moved with a few inches of each other, Aveline reached her fingers into his soft curling mop like sandy blonde hair, she could feel it in her body that he was up to something.
Before he eagerly embraced her mouth he muttered "Les conseils d'un renard est dangereux pour les poulets."
His reason became clear to her at that moment.
Mon Renard- French for 'my fox'
"The advice of a fox is dangerous for chickens"