[Completely up to you... you can be in the cafe, or such... truly up to you-- don't let me restrict you...^^]

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

The late-night ambience of the evening was beginning to make Isabell feel more awake, preternatural senses reeling. Yet as ever, the calm facade did not break. However she was getting a little irritated..Repeating herself was not among her favorite past times.

Throwing Imogen a petulant glare, she remained seated, making it painfully clear that she was not moving until she had what she wanted. Stubborn creature.

I do believe you're evading the question, Imogen Mayair. What. Are. You.

Her eyes softened again, the effect of a porcelain doll replacing her seemingly delicate visage.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Imogen caught the woman's petulant stare with a somewhat cold look of her own.. added to by the feline grace of her cat-like eyes, the long pupils having dilated in suppressed annoyance.. yet the veil of apathy didn't break.. not yet. She could hardly afford for Isabell to know that she was annoying her... no doubt that was what she wanted, in some way.. most creatures did.. well... maybe with the exception of him.. at the thought, Imogen shook herself from her reverie, gesturing very subtely with a thin, gloved hand.

Very well... Isabell.... if you must truly know what I am.. then I shall tell you..

Calmly, Imogen watched her expression for a while before continuing... she knew full well that Isabell was losing her patience.. even if it didn't show in that flawless face of hers..

.... I, darling... I am a Demon.

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

I really dont know how to start

_________________

<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~

Isabell chuckled soundlessly, no longer keeping her animations inward..Twin ivory canines glittered sharply as her lips curled back into that smile of hers. She planned on milking this evening for all that it was worth. Her reply was marked with a finishing mischievous snare.

Aren't we all.

Then, just as any independant mortal lady would, she daintily folded the napkin that had been sitting on her lap for the past hour and gently slid it onto the table next to her teacup. Uncrossing her legs, she stood up, all actions seemingly crusted with surreption as she did these things without disturbing the air around her. From this new perception, Isabell looked to be about 5'7", heels included yet hidden beneath the lace and ruffle of her petticoat. Reaching for her black mink-trimmed cloak, she carefully put it on, concealing her narrow torso which had been swathed in crimson and scarlet hues of silk, the corset being adorned with small black ribbons.

Blonde tendrils rested in delicate coils 'round the black fur that lined the cloak, contrasting almost as deeply as her orchid white skin. Isabell reached within the depths of one of the inner pockets of the cloak, producing two black laced gloves. Pivoting slowly to face Imogen who was across the room, she locked eyes on the woman one last time, almost as if to say: 'Your move.' Isabell would follow Imogen out the door politely, if that was what she had in mind.

Imogen lounged in the chair just a little longer, as she watched Isabell draw on her cloak, in apathetic silence. When she had done so, the woman slowly began to rise to her feet, as if not at all caring of the fact that she was being waited for, or the fact that a good few eyes had already started to turn in her direction.
Bending slightly, Imogen swept invisible specks of dust from her white stockings, before she then slowly drew herself up, smoothing down folds of the frock-caot as she did so; the waist of the jacket being tapered so closely as to fit such a narrow waist. Next, she lifted the tall balck hat, placing it, carefully on top of her head of long, auburn curls.. at once she seemed undefinable from any you, feminine featured man.. unless looked at closely. Ad after all, that was what she loved so much about this get up of hers.. it hid her completely from the world.. even Laen disguised himself sometimes, so why not she? After all, she had been dressing in mens clothes since she could remember.
Now, she tightened white gloved fingers about the head of her cane, drifting blithely to Isabell, and for the first time in their conversation, speaking with her real voice; the throaty purr remaining.
"Oh, we are indeed, Isabell... now where do you plan to go?" The question was slightly patronising, as if she believed herself to be speaking to a child, or inferior.

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

Isabell smiled slightly, the sweet but not coy smile of a passing stranger. When she spoke her voice was marked with an inobtrusive straight-forwardness, silky and rather calm.

" Your brother's ceremony. I saw his face quite often in your eyes; I'd like to meet this stranger who has a distinct place in your thoughts."



[Sorry for the short post.]

Imogen drew herself up a little higher, feline optics seeming to dilate for a moment, as she tightened her grip on the head of the cane.. so this woman knew about Laen? Hm, almost interesting.. almost.
With a vague nod, Imogen lent Isabell a slightly blase smirk, gesturing for her to follow her out of the door; turning her face very slightly, as to look over her shoulder.
"If you are coming to Laen's ceremony... I trust you will not cause trouble with him, ne?"

She couldn't risk Laen's temper.. couldn't risk his ridiculous mood-swings, that the slightest thing could bring about.. neither could she stand the look in the blonde man's eyes, who so often followed Laen around... D`Lorve, was not one to be played with.. she knew this from experience.

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

She smiled courteously, glittering orbs fixing ahead of her as she replied with a sacrosanct tone of voice.

"My dear, I have not one pretentious bone in my body, that you can be sure of."

The sky had been suffused with an inky blackness, seemingly unable to penetrate with any milky light that the stars would give. The rain had stopped, but just as sporadically as it had came, it was sure to come again, and the fresh drops of the water made their monotonous tune off the slicked roofs of the neighboring buildings, looking more sorrowfully dilipidated than ever.

Secretly, she was brimming over with excitement to meet this young fellow. She found it brilliantly grotesque that such wild scandals were unfurling beneath the ramparts of such an ornamental society.

"Glad you don't... because Laen does." With a vague smirk, Imogen sauntered ahead of Isabell, narrow hips swaying with each preternatural movement.. this was going to be somewhat different than she had expected. After all, how was Laen going to react to meeting a strange woman? A vampire.. then again, Laen's so called friend, Julien D`Lorve, was known to be of that creed.. a vampiric lord, reeking havoc beneath the streets of Paris in that refuge known only as the 'Aristocracy'. This may end up problematic, indeed..
Glancing up to the sky, Imogen took a sharp left along the boulevard, quickly extending a thin, gloved hand as a horse-drawn carriage hurtled past; jet curtains obscuring the insides, while a thin man glowered down at the two women on the curb.
Massive, silver wheels clattered loudly against the cobble-stones, while even the horses seemed to hold a menacing presence.
Nodding to the driver, Imogen swept forward into the street, curling her fingers about the lock on the carriage door-- a thin brow elevating, as she turned around, offering her other hand to Isabell.

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

A disappointed frown delicately found it's place 'pon her lips as she observed Imogen insipidly.

"Don't be ridiculous, ladies first."

Though she did appreciate the sentiment, she wasn't about to go along with this woman's charade. For all she knew, the next thing this creature would be doing could be courting ladies. Yet mind over matter, she highly doubted the ludicrous would extend to such bizarre lengths. In a way, unbeknownst to herself, she rather admired this demon from the corner of her mind; finding it raw and brave the things that she was doing.

The blonde vampire waited politely for Imogen to enter the dark carriage first, her signature smile returning in all courtesy.