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Ipsum. A mega-city that is located beachside, with mountains and a river surrounding its expansive homes and towering buildings. The city is beyond beautiful... yet none of the residents have any idea how they arrived, and have yet to leave, because Ipsum is a city you can never leave -- not by choice. People appear here without any knowledge where they are, no one knows what country or world they are even in. Yet, the city still provides for her people. Jobs, homes, goods are all readily available, and there is a place for everyone, be it the good or bad — Ipsum shall provide.

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 [M] ☣ DEAD BITE., @ Evelynn

Zenith

[PROTOTYPE]

TWENTY-NINE (IMMORTAL)

supervillain

71

as played by KHAN
Digging in like a parasite, feeding off what I keep inside. Manifest when I'm throwing trust, to the cold and the nebulous. Something's changing, rearranging me. Amputating what I no longer need.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25

awards

May 19 2018, 03:46 PM
you may find that my appetite gets its way.
Is this regression? The last time he felt the urge to take on this identity, it was for the sake of hiding from the world and figuring out what to do with himself. Finding whether he could fit in with humanity. Mercer has already determined there is no place for him in humanity, and he doesn't want to carve his own place. The notion, it makes him bitter with hate again. And yet, he finds himself taking on the identity of the murdered drug lord again; both taller and broader-built than Mercer's default body. But he doesn't pretend to be a drug lord, no. That's what the peons of humanity do.

He's still going to be the writer. But instead of searching for solitude to work on a book, he's searching for inspiration. He'll tell this to anyone who asks, to keep people satisfied. Inspiration? Mercer has questions. He has memories; not always pleasant ones, and not ones he always likes to dwell on. The memories of Karen are of a couple posing for a picture, Alex's arms draped around her neck and leaning in close. Normal people, thought Alex, are supposed to smile. He managed to smile for the picture, but the smile didn't reach his eyes like it had reached Karen's. There are times he recalls the smell of her perfume, the soft warmth of her body close to him. What is it to feel intimacy and love? It's certainly not what Alex had felt for her before he'd been infected.

Other memories are fragmented from all of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people he has consumed. In order to keep himself from going insane, Mercer tended only to hang onto the relevant information. The rest was suppressed or discarded, up until this point. Now, he has the urge to sate some curiosity. As the large man meanders on through Malesuada, pensively touching his new beard, his sky blue eyes wander towards the nightclubs. Up until this point, he considered intimacy and sex appeal unimportant. Karen and Alex didn't explore that part of their relationship when he was alive -- or more accurately, when he wasn't Zeus. When Zeus thought Amber was helping him reconnect with feelings he thought he'd lost, had disconnected from, she soon showed him it was all a facade.

Regardless ... He still wants to understand this part of the human condition. Even though he's not human, himself, so why does it matter? He doesn't want to be part of their race, and yet, he continues to carry himself forward. Boots thump against the concrete until the neon lights of various clubs and bars paint his vision. Voluptuous bodies in attire meant to emphasize curves and barely conceal flesh, sashay along a side street and into the Red Bunny Nightclub. The big man stands out like any foreigner, except it's painfully obvious he comes from a time where modern fashion wasn't the same. Jack is wearing a red turtleneck and pants better suited for the frozen northern parts of the states. The disguise may look out of place, but then, aren't most of the people in this strange city? He finally has a notion that sounds better in his mind; he's searching for a snack.

Jack settles down at the bar, his coolly neutral expression roving over the women dancing. Some of them wear almost nothing between their bare chests and the fabric knotted around their shoulders. They brim with confidence; they make him think of Greene. A confident hive queen, vicious green eyes narrowing down upon the peons while she dances. Long lashes narrow pensively as he turns his head, sipping on a glass of beer. Does he find that appealing? The ache in his chest says something about it. Nude bodies must be appealing because they're covered up all the time. This appeal is, to him, almost too bold and somewhat unsettling. He doesn't find himself being able to pace around the females like an animal with the base instinct to breed. He is a virus seeking information.

Before long, a sweet voice belonging to a doe-eyed blonde is addressing him. Creamy smooth flesh and full, red lips are what he sees next. Her golden amber irises stand out in contrast to the red on her lips, the rose petals tied to her hair and the crimson curls of the dress drifting around her thighs. They make him think of blood, of glowing viral veins. He sees nothing but red these days; red is the color of violence, of hunger sated, of his power manifesting and ripping apart his enemies and his prey. So naturally, he finds it appealing.

My name?

"Jack," he finds himself automatically responding to the petite blond, turning away from the drink and leaning against his elbow. "Just -- Jack."

before you know it
i'm a beast
swallowing prey.
Evelynn //

Zenith

League of Legends

Ageless

Assassin

6

as played by wish
I'm too tired to exist but if I have to can I at least exist close to an art supply store? Thanks much.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25+

awards

May 19 2018, 06:56 PM
watch you crawl out of your changing shape
In this skin, red was an accent, a decoration, a means to catch and keep the eye. The soft, bloodsmoke haze that covered the district deepened the shades in her dress, on her lips. Turned golden eyes flame-bright and beckoning in whatever direction they flashed their gaze. Her gaze never held for long, slipping by the drunk and depraved like quicksilver, searching for anything that might keep her attention. Nothing did, and she moved on, slinking into shadows like the wraith she was, until she found someplace suitable in which to resume the hunt.

The place she ends up thrums with the pulse of humanity. As she steps inside, eyes turn from the barely-covered bodies and follow the sway of her stride. She feels eyes on her, discerning and displeased in turn, the dancers incensed that attention is being drawn away from them, their patrons curious and beguiled by her presence. Turning her head to the nearest pair of eyes, she lets her mouth curve into a slow, benevolent smile, and feels the confusion and contempt intensify in turn. The brunette dancer glaring daggers at her through an otherwise dispassionate expression finally attempts to turn her customer's gaze away from Evelynn with the sudden loosening of her top. The Beast clucks her tongue at her foolishness.

Always leave them wanting more.

However, the easy prey watching the dancers isn't what she's here for either. Most of them are already too drunk to feel properly, a combination of alcohol, pheromones and other stimulants making them useless. She needs someone who isn't quite yet so... dulled. Someone who, unlike them, will actually make her efforts worthwhile.

She finds him at the bar, so out of place in the club's general atmosphere that it makes him that much easier to set apart from the rest. His expression is mild, almost distracted, and his gaze on the mostly-bare bodies before him seems to barely acknowledge them. It's an interesting sort of detachment too, almost clinical; not displeased, but not particularly interested either. And unlike the rest, he barely seems to have noticed her entrance, lost so deeply in his own thoughts as he is. In a word--

Perfect~

Getting his attention isn't hard, and once she has his name, it's easier to settle into the role she needs to play. Sympathetic ear for the big, broody teddy bear; easy as pie.

"Evelynn," she replies gently, her face schooled into something soft and open. "I have to say," she adds after a moment, settling in beside him and hailing the bartender for a drink of her own. She'll taste it, and she may even enjoy it, but in the end, the sweet cocktail will only be another part of the show. "You don't seem like the type to particularly enjoy this kind of... venue." Or any at all, which only makes him more interesting. "Come to... drown your sorrows, sweetie?"


Alex Mercer
BY MITZI

Zenith

[PROTOTYPE]

TWENTY-NINE (IMMORTAL)

supervillain

71

as played by KHAN
Digging in like a parasite, feeding off what I keep inside. Manifest when I'm throwing trust, to the cold and the nebulous. Something's changing, rearranging me. Amputating what I no longer need.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25

awards

May 20 2018, 12:15 AM
you may find that my appetite gets its way.
If he listens carefully, she almost sounds as sweet as the woman he met in the snowy mountains. Her tone is almost too soft, her figure too gentle and doll-like to be any one of the women dancing up front. Sultrily arching their bodies and coolly regarding the other creatures in the room. She garners some attention, and even he finds her more interesting than the women bathed in neon lights. He's not sure whether the women are trying to impress the men, or trying to outdo each other. Or perhaps trying to impress other women. It's all a fascinating act, because it's just barely dancing along the line of sex appeal. Ultimately, the end result is supposed to be alleviating that urge. But these women, at least, from what he can tell; they aren't here to indulge that urge. Maybe not immediately. They're here to entice, but he doesn't miss the private looks and the smiles as men discreetly shove money into their cleavage and are led to another room.

If he intended on blending in easier, he's going to have a hard time of it sitting at the bar and watching the women with vague interest. Before taking a woman to bed, they want there to be some kind of ritual to it, right? With his attention fully eaten up by the blonde, he finds himself comparing her to the women he'd been closest to. He doesn't have a lot to go off of, it's only natural he compares them. She's different, at least, that's what he tells himself. But are they really? Humans, not just women, all want something. Maybe it is that tantalizing end result, but he finds this more interesting than having it all bared in a second. Nothing else to hide or to use as a way to entice.

She must want something. But so does he.

Golden flame irises look attentively at him, and he gazes back as though trying to decipher her look. She’s not typical to the women hanging around here and catches a glimpse of his hidden motives or his curiosity; pointing out that he’s not the typical man at one of these venues. She’s very attentive; but then again, he’s not standing close to the readily bare skin, hoping to touch. He’s sitting at the bar, watching as though interested but not ravenous by it. Taking a moment to consider his response, he smiles for the first time this evening and takes another swig of beer. It doesn’t particularly do anything for him, and the taste is a bit dull.

“I think I’m searching for the right company.“

He turns to face her as she joins him. He notices the other details, like the curve of her neck beneath the curls pulled against her nape. Maybe he doesn’t have to search any longer and he can see about this ritual. “Sorrows, no. You seem to have a lot of attention,” rolls the subtle timbre if his tone. “I think you’ve outdone the competition without having to dress the same way they do.”

before you know it
i'm a beast
swallowing prey.
Evelynn //

Zenith

League of Legends

Ageless

Assassin

6

as played by wish
I'm too tired to exist but if I have to can I at least exist close to an art supply store? Thanks much.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25+

awards

May 20 2018, 04:40 PM
watch you crawl out of your changing shape
The barkeep stops beside them before she can answer him properly, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow between the two of them. There's a clear air of disbelief that she's chosen this guy out of everyone in the club to speak to, and while she knows there's easier, prettier prey, she doesn't really enjoy having someone act as if they know what she 'should' be doing. Evelynn lets her amber gaze sharpen as much as her tone does when she taps two fingernails against the counter top and bites out, clearly:

"A Cardinale please. Not too much ice."

Once the barkeep looks away from her displeased stare and scampers off to make her drink, Evelynn turns her attention back to 'Jack', wondering just what that little quip of his means. He might be trying to seem more interesting than he is, but she doesn't for a second believe he's thought this outing through to that extent. Not that she's assuming a lack of intelligence so much as a lack of direction-- especially if he's never been in a place like this before. Sultry, seedy and ready to devour the unwary. So, that means he really is just out to find something as close to the 'right' girl he can find.

For the night, at least, and that's more than she needs.

"Well, I don't know about the right company, but..." She settles an elbow atop the bar, head canted and a sweet smile in place as her drink is placed beside it. "I'd like to think I'm certainly good company, if you don't mind indulging me in the meantime..." Her laughter is a sultry, warm chuckle then, and she slides her eyes to the rest of the club, then back to him. "To be honest, I'm not sure theirs is the kind of attention anyone needs. Especially not if they can barely keep it on what they're paying for. A waste of money, if you ask me..."

Her fingers curl around the short glass, and she doesn't take her eyes off him as she raises it to her lips for a sip, the deep ruby color an almost perfect match for her lipstick. She swirls the contents idly then and looks up at him with a smile meant to look charming if not a bit self-deprecating. "Who knows-- maybe if I stick around, they right girl might be inspired to make a move. And if not..." A little shrug, the glass rising toward her lips again. "Maybe that won't be too much of a loss for either of us."

Ambivalent, but not quite enough to mistake her meaning, if he's clever enough.



Alex Mercer
BY MITZI

Zenith

[PROTOTYPE]

TWENTY-NINE (IMMORTAL)

supervillain

71

as played by KHAN
Digging in like a parasite, feeding off what I keep inside. Manifest when I'm throwing trust, to the cold and the nebulous. Something's changing, rearranging me. Amputating what I no longer need.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25

awards

May 21 2018, 02:27 AM
you may find that my appetite gets its way.
Some men would interpret the barkeep's doubtful look as a challenge. I must've lucked out. Why did she approach him first? Maybe because she doesn't want to deal with a brazen drunk, but he isn't complaining and he isn't about to overthink her reasons. This is part of what he wanted to figure out. Rather than being upset or offended by the barkeep's look, he cuts his icy blue gaze away and smirks somewhat thoughtfully towards the amber-tinted liquid in his glass. This feeling is what one might call smug satisfaction, and he responds this way because he believes this is someone more worthwhile than the easy ones. The way she carries herself. It's more confident and less showy and searching for a reaction.

It's almost an amusing coincidence; he was expecting to be the one watching and considering his first move, despite his inexperience. Having the charisma to convince people of his greater plans for the human race, and having the charisma to know how to entice a woman can't be much different. If they all want something, he just has to know what she wants. Then again, he's here to indulge what it is he wants to learn. It's for the sake of somehow sating his curiosity and knowing what it means to have this experience. But it makes sense to say he'll have an easier time if he knows she's interested and wants what he wants. As she settles in with her blood red drink, petite fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass and bringing the liquid to her full lips, his brows subtly raise and his smirk lingers. She's modest with her words, but she's already more interesting than the others. He likes that she isn't so quick to act as the others, but he also hunches this isn't her job. Some humans have expectations and the working women are expected to keep the money coming in somehow.

"I'm already convinced you're better company than the ladies out there. It's their job, I get it." It's how they reel in the desperate. Those desperate few who ache for that release. It must be like the way he aches to fill his biomass, at times. The instinctive ache to feed and grow, consume and become. Spread the virus. He's found out that the virus is either a hit or miss in this city. He can hope Evelynn yields interesting genetics; maybe her's won't be as resilient as the others. "You're realistic, and not desperate." His tone sounds chilly for a moment, but still, he remains focused on her, idly squeezing and rolling the cool glass between his fingers. He finds himself considering how interesting she is in comparison, and wonders if this is what attraction feels like. Maybe it is, but he's not afraid to learn more.

The right girl. He utters a soft huff of amusement, and idly slides his fingers against the beard, eyeing the liquid as it dips into her red lips again. Unaccustomed to the game of attraction and enticement though he may be, he interprets her coy comment hopefully in the way she'd intended. Some people, he understands, don't always mean what they say. "Otherwise, you'd be disappointed not to have someone to indulge you, right? If it's all right with you, I think I prefer your company." This is coming easier the longer she shows interest and speaks with him. Had he expected the ritual to be easy, he wasn't sure.

"What do you want?" The question is genuinely curious, meant to be searching rather than demanding. The better question would be what she seeks, what she yearns for. "You see, I'm writing a novel. I've been searching for inspiration; the right woman to show me what she searches for. Her ideal intimacy." This works for him because she's so open to having a conversation. He doubts the others would be so willing to let him speak like this, and may even interpret is as weird. If Evelynn feels this open topic is too weird, well, that's going to be disappointing.

before you know it
i'm a beast
swallowing prey.

Zenith

League of Legends

Ageless

Assassin

6

as played by wish
I'm too tired to exist but if I have to can I at least exist close to an art supply store? Thanks much.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25+

awards

Jun 16 2018, 02:19 AM
watch you crawl out of your changing shape
"Don't be too hard on them," Evelynn hums, feigning contrition. "They're young, after all-- for the most part, at least. They've still got a lot to learn about how they come across..." That much, at least, is true. Evelynn was young once too, after all, though never really so young as these girls, with their scant clothing and even more scant self-esteem. The latter is their real problem; it's something they'll learn with time, provided they last long enough. If they don't, they'll find other avenues of employment, but this sort of thing was never for the weak-hearted.

A girl had to be able to handle herself in this line of work.

That's not her problem though, as amusing as it might be to point this out to one or two of them and see what becomes of it. Were she bored enough to waste the energy, she'd consider it, but at the moment, her attention is focused on her incredibly promising prospective meal. Causing a little minor discord can wait until after she's full.

"I'm certainly not going to complain about someone enjoying my company," she admits, schooling her mouth into a little smile meant to look pleased but somewhat hesitant. "After all, it's not like you're the only one out for the right company." Which really, 'right' can mean so many things to her. For once though, she thinks she might have lucked out without picking out a target beforehand. A rare occurrence, but one that never fails to bring a smile to her face.

Especially when she thinks about how she intends to wipe the smile off his.

"What do I want? Well now, that's a question that seldom gets asked..." She says it with more surprise than she feels, though her astonishment is still genuine. Even if it's a line he's using to try and get closer to her, she'll have to give him points for originality. The boy might look a bit out of place, but maybe he's more of a genuine predator than she'd given him credit for. Well, the night is young still-- she'll find out the truth about that soon enough. "I guess..." Here she gives a soft, almost embarrassed laugh, ducking her head a bit behind the rim of her glass. She looks up at him from beneath her lashes, feigning shyness. "I guess I'm just looking for something... for someone... that can really make me feel."



Alex Mercer
BY MITZI

Zenith

[PROTOTYPE]

TWENTY-NINE (IMMORTAL)

supervillain

71

as played by KHAN
Digging in like a parasite, feeding off what I keep inside. Manifest when I'm throwing trust, to the cold and the nebulous. Something's changing, rearranging me. Amputating what I no longer need.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25

awards

Jun 16 2018, 06:42 PM
you may find that my appetite gets its way.
He suspects the main reason why they’re so willing to act that way is because men expect it. Not men like himself, but humans so driven by the hot and heavy desire to ... feel that pleasure. Or feed that need. Mercer considers how they might be easier prey if he really needs to fill his biomass, but right now, he’s hungry for something else. Hungry to know what it feels like.

Not often does it occur where he’s genuinely surprised by someone. So many humans are emotional; they have no problem with knowing what feelings are, knowing what they want. How strangely coincidental, a mutual desire to search for feeling. Mercer’s icy gaze turns smoldering for a moment, searching her eyes as she appears demure and tips her petite face behind the glass. Her long eyelashes show a hint of burnt gold-auburn; such a rare and unique hue. His eyes search her eyes and her face for a hint of truth. Curious, but also pensive and deep in thought over her response. Kindred spirits? He wasn’t expecting to meet someone with such a close similarity to what he wants, to be honest. After a moment, his smile cuts into a sharper smirk and he turns the cold glass in his fingers, pads sliding over the sweating surface.

“I see. That’s interesting, because I’m not just writing about it...I’m here for the same reason. To know what it means to feel.”

He’s not being deceptive, not entirely. Playing the role of a curious writer is one thing, but he really does search for meaning. Even if he’d denied having any humanity before, the virus is endlessly curious, searching for ways to experience its existence. No matter how fake it is, he has a desire to know what it is to feel different things. Are these desires just as fake as his appearance? Perhaps, but it’s satisfying to know that someone else almost shares a mutual desire.

“To know what it means to search for that ideal feeling and experience it.”

Then, he goes quiet again and averts his gaze to the glass in his hands. He can’t seem to stop thinking about how she’s so different from the women he’s seen. It would have been easier to see one of those women, but he prefers this one. The others probably wouldn’t prefer talking like this, or maybe they would. They might do less talking and more listening as he expresses his curiosity and desire.

“Maybe we can help each other learn,” he dares to move the conversation in another direction, tone rolling suggestively. His eyes search for hers again, and he gently pushes the glass aside to interlock his fingers. She seems reluctant, but if she’s searching, there’s no harm in seeing if there’s an answer. He won’t pressure her, though. That’s not what he’s here for, he’s here to see if he can find what he’s looking for. If she’s not quite the one, he’ll move on.

before you know it
i'm a beast
swallowing prey.

Zenith

League of Legends

Ageless

Assassin

6

as played by wish
I'm too tired to exist but if I have to can I at least exist close to an art supply store? Thanks much.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25+

awards

Jul 10 2018, 06:55 PM
watch you crawl out of your changing shape
Now isn't she just a lucky girl?

It's difficult to believe the pieces are falling into place so neatly, but she's certainly not about to complain. Not when there's a body, a meal, offering itself up for the taking. Evelynn is a lot of things, but she's certainly not wasteful. Of course, she finds a bit of suspicion in that he's looking for the experience he's writing about so intimately, but she supposes there's no substitute for firsthand knowledge. It would only make whatever sweet, syrupy thing he's writing more realistic, more tangible, were he to write from experience.

What a shame he'll never get to actually write it.

Of course, she's not going to be so shameless about it. Hardly. In fact, her face schools itself into a look of shy surprise, lips parting in a perfectly plump little 'o', soft and guileless. Her free hand moves from her face to linger daintily in front of her open mouth, drink lowering to hover over her lap. In moments like this, the devil really is in the details. Every little thing, down to the arch of her brows and the faint hitching of 'breath' she doesn't really need is carefully calculated to draw both the eye and the imagination. In order to sate her appetite, after all, she must whet his-- it's no use to her if he isn't slowly inching toward being drunk with want for her before she considers starting her meal.

As always, it's all about timing.

"A kindred spirit in a place like this... " A bit much perhaps, but she plays it off with a little laugh, head shaking as if in disbelief at herself. She looks back at him, letting her body seem to react to the change in his tone. Tilting her body closer to him, her lashes lower, and she peeks at him from the corners of her eyes, expression intent but seemingly hesitant. "I... it's almost embarrassing to say, but it's a little bit like fate, isn't it?"

Guys like this were big on that sort of thing, weren't they? The thought that their muse, their reason, would find them on the whims of the universe. As if their own efforts had little to do with it.

Oh well. All the easier to take advantage.

"Shall we... go somewhere a little more... private? I doubt this discussion is one that's fit for the bar." Especially not once she really got the blood flowing, so to speak. "I think we can get something more accommodating upstairs..."



Alex Mercer
BY MITZI

Zenith

[PROTOTYPE]

TWENTY-NINE (IMMORTAL)

supervillain

71

as played by KHAN
Digging in like a parasite, feeding off what I keep inside. Manifest when I'm throwing trust, to the cold and the nebulous. Something's changing, rearranging me. Amputating what I no longer need.
Player Pronouns she/her
Player Age 25

awards

Jul 11 2018, 09:47 PM
you may find that my appetite gets its way.
It almost comes naturally; the growing interest in every subtle way she moves. He has been attracted to women before, and like before, he finds himself questioning it. He's not human, but he's regressing to a point where he sought to feel human. Humanity is disappointing, he doesn't want to be like them. In his analytical mind, he goes back and forth about why he wants this -- before finally coming to a conclusion. If he is capable of feeling this way, then it is natural. It doesn't make him human to want to pursue pleasures. Just like it doesn't make him human to want to consume and become, humans do the same thing. Just not in the same way.

Surprisingly, he finds himself wanting to taste those full, puckered lips. This is the first development since showing interest in this woman, and he briefly judges whether this is an appropriate development. He has no reference from the people he has consumed; having taken only the necessary information, pushing aside and forgetting the unnecessary details. But based on the general feeling of those he has consumed, it isn't unnatural to want this. For a creature that consumes to survive, it also isn't unnatural to want to consume her. But he doesn't want to kill her, either -- he decides the feeling to want to taste her is purely out of an enticing need. Her blood must taste the same as everyone else's, so there's nothing special about feeding on her. He simply wants to feel her and realizes he wants to experience her in different ways. If this is part attraction, it must be something more.

She speaks of kindred spirits and fate, and he chuckles. It's so unexpected, and he wants to be mistrustful. He hasn't forgotten about Karen and Autumn -- how both of them betrayed him. Even Sabrina, who seemed to have the potential, decided to stray from him and do things her own way. What they all had in common was that they were survivors, and he can at least respect that. The will to survive, to fight and do what it takes. This woman seems to be so demure and sweet, but he also doesn't know her well yet. She seems willing to 'learn' with him, and isn't that worth something?

Her willingness is pleasing and it brings forth a warm, restless feeling in the pit of where a human stomach would be. Biomass tentacles twist and curl from within, craving release. They can imitate human organs, but the enticed feeling is real, and the way it makes him want to act on a healthy fascination is real. "Yes." Sliding out of his stool, his gaze flickers towards the other side of the room, where the dark staircase leads to an even darker, shadowed area. It's as though it is meant to be concealed, only revealing itself to those searching for it. 'Jack' moves with her, sauntering along through the dimly lit nightclub. When they reach the stairs, he follows her up, allowing her to lead where she wants them to go. A new feeling begins to twist within him -- a feeling of anticipation, of knowing he will soon learn what he's been aching to know.

The door almost appears to materialize out of the darkness, but he has no problem with seeing in the dark. When he blinks, everything becomes clear as day. The room shares about the same decor as the club, with sensual artwork and dark tones of crimson, velvet blue and black rolling along the wall mural. It appears to be a suite designed for paying guests. There is a black couch in the middle of the room; one that seems to wrap around the pair of poles protruding from the ceiling. A couch capable of accommodating multiple guests who come to view the private show.

He's not quite sure of what to do next; how he should move on to the next part of the 'ritual', and looks to her for answers. Maybe if he lets her know she's welcome to initiate seeking out a way to find that feeling, he, too, can see about where it leads. His eyes drift towards her dress, really taking in the shape of her form for the first time since their conversation. The way it radiates with a certain warmth, the way it smells sweet and enticing. For the first time, he dares to reach out and let his fingers slide along the flesh of her shoulder and arm. The sensation of smooth, silky flesh is pleasing, it feels good under his fingers.

"Evelynn, show me how you want to feel. This is a new experience for me." The way he speaks is not a man nervous about a new experience, he doesn't worry at all about the same things humans would worry about. Rather, he's just not sure how to transition this. The ritual seems to be so delicate, so emotional, he would hate to get it wrong and make her uncomfortable. Yes, even with how faintly attractive Karen Parker had been, they never took their relationship any further. Mercer was too absorbed in his work, and didn't have the capacity to feel for her in such a strong way. But Zeus doesn't think there's anything wrong with seeking to understand the feeling. It can't be wrong if it's meant to bring pleasure.

before you know it
i'm a beast
swallowing prey.
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