Of Solitude

[The Cedar Witch]

Reserved for Saiketsu


"Five grand? You can\'t be serious." the immortal narrowed her eyes, extremely offended by the offer\'s implications. Affectionately she stroked the edges of the canvas with a motherly touch, as though she was reconsidering even parting with the painting. Her masterpiece was a good six by eight, held carefully by her two most trusted servants. Within the boundary of what had once been white canvas was a whirl of fiery passion and aggression that should have been looked upon with utmost respect. Broad brush strokes with dark colors, the occasional accent of bright red or yellow springing up from beneath. The beast had taken weeks to dry, paint caked on so thick even the richest of painters would have been appalled by the "waste". But this was not waste to her. This was her anger, her fear, her hatred and frustration. So much had gone into this piece, there were still broken brushes scattered around the floor of her studio as well as tubes of paint amongst other things.

"Fine, six then--"

"Seven fifty." The Ukrainian folded her arms across her chest and glared at the scrawny little man standing against the wall. Even though they were in the back of the gallery, away from the majority of the visitors, their discussion still managed to draw some attention. Even though it was getting near closing time. The little man looked helplessly at the painting and let out an exasperated sigh, only to be interrupted by the pushy artist once again.

"I can take my work elsewhere. To those who recognize what a real abstractionist is, and would buy at a much higher price," she threatened, making a move to turn away and signaling to her companions to do the same. She was only bluffing, really, but the little man had no way of knowing that.

"Wait! Just wait, please!" the boy was looking rather distressed. It was obvious, to the immortal anyway, that the human had grown quite fond of her painting. After all, \'Of Solitude #45\' was something more fit for a museum then a stingy little art gallery. She had spent twenty six hours on this painting, twenty six hours of taring herself apart and throwing paint until it looked like more of a mess. A beautiful, chaotic mess. But it was so much more then just a painting to her, any fine art collector should now that.

"I can only afford to give you six fifty," the little man pleaded, "Please, I really love this painting. It is a masterful work of art. Such raw passion..." he stepped toward the painting again, a strangely painful expression on his face. Sonya stepped between him and the painting, eying him coldly. This man didn\'t have the slightest idea what this painting meant to her. He couldn\'t see the meaning of pain in her work, that night after James left and she was forced to think about herself. He couldn\'t even begin to comprehend what it meant to the immortal, to actually self-reflect after so many years of turning a blind eye to it.

"In cash." her accent was thick and she had an almost bored expression on her face as the little man scurried to the back room to gather the money she had requested. In the meantime, Sonya took the time to examine the paintings that hung on the walls nearby. She was so absorbed in thinking about this whole ordeal that she didn\'t even notice that anyone was standing next to her. At least, not until the immortal turned and nearly ran into them.

[Saiketsu]

The gallery was like a breath of semi-clean air in a trashed city. Qamar Art Gallery. The stage for those few artists of the city, mortal and immortal alike. But as he stood gazing at the photography of a human named Jane Braaie, he couldn\'t help but judge with the most critical of green eyes exactly what the human had missed in her excitement of having an exhibition in the Gallery.

Nikolai sneered inwardly, the flesh at the corners of his eyes rippling in the wake of his expression. He would never have sold a single blasted piece of his own art work to this Gallery. Call it ego; Nikolai wasn\'t keen about parting from his children of ink, charcoal, or paint. They were things sacred, not meant for the unintelligent eyes of mortals on a day out. His personal struggles were not meant to break up the monotony of someone else\'s day.

The vampire wandered aimlessly through the gallery, following a trail of conceptual abstracts leading away from the population\'s interests. The paintings and sculptures grew darker in nature, Macabre in nature and sanguine in colors. Typical and without true maddening depth. These pieces, though full of plenty of satisfying gore, lacked the beauty of a truly tormented mind, like Nikolai had.

He turned a corner and heard an argument echo clearly off the walls. The vampire would have turned back the way he had come, had the second, angrier voice not been so alluring. Even for a female\'s. Instead the vampire continued on his stroll into the room, too interested in seeing the face behind the voice. Watch, he thought with his hands casually in his pocket, she\'ll be beastly, of course. Just my luck.

But upon inspection through the his preferential vision, now fully returned after facing that damned Smoke demon the night previous, and through the slight glances he gave her, Nikolai found everything to be enjoyable in more than one sense.

The woman, clearly an elder vampire, was more pleasing to look upon than he would have originally guessed. Her side profile gave him a glance of wavy black locks flowing down her back with a luscious curve to her figure. The full breasts seemed to be almost bursting from the cleavage of her bloody maroon corset top, something that Nikolai had a hard enough time taking his eyes off of. Her hips and thighs beneath a thin layer of cloth in the form of black leather pulled at his masculine desires. The sight made his mouth water with forbidden Thirst, something he knew he had to control or else. He could already feel the stirrings of Adam\'s demons deep in his mind.

So the younger vampire stood there, absently gazing at another typical macabre piece which held nothing of his interest. It was that woman who had it all, even if she were a female. She never seemed to notice him until her aimless wanderings brought her too close. Her scent was overwhelmingly alluring. Maybe there would be something good come out of the night after all.

He, on the other hand, hadn\'t been as prepared for attention as the elder seemed to be. Tonight there was only a simple layer of liner and mascara on his green eyes, the eye shadow simply a waste of time for the night. Apparently he was wrong. He stood still as she approached, knowing that he looked like a prick this night: a black pin-striped cotton button down over-shirt and matching pants with living-flesh-colored graphic tee underneath. Good sneakers. Gages. Nothing particularly special with which to impress a lady.

The \'man\' bit his lip before deciding upon the course of action to take in order to grab her attention for sure. Innocently, Nikolai leaned down towards her slightly and whispered, "The Montmartre in the next city over would take it for 10k, easy." And he smiled with a plain, uncorrupted smile.

[The Cedar Witch]

Sonya eyed the man before her prior to speaking, measuring her sentences carefully so not to have a rude outburst. Not that she was even sure if he was worth all the trouble anyway. But she didn\'t want to give anyone observing her actions any more of a reason to think that she was anything less then a perfect lady. God knows James could have said something about that, call her a monster to some degree. Not that he mattered much now anyway, considering there was something much more interesting standing in front of her now. With a quick, critical eye the Ukrainian took him in, judging and admiring all in a single second.

He was a pretty little thing, even though he was young (for an immortal anyway). Unlike most of the young, this one seemed to hold some sense of respect, and at least acted like he had recognized her age. The pencil on his fingers told her that he was, too, an artist (aside from the fact that he was hanging around in an art gallery). Not bad for a first impression. And his body wasn\'t anything to shrug off, to say the least, even if he was a few years cold. Yet there was something stirring inside of him that felt like it didn\'t quite belong, something dark and foreign and she couldn\'t quite put her finger on it. That made the boy all that more interesting.

"Please, as if I really need the money." Sonya scoffed, light accent flowing gracefully from her lips, "I know very well how much I could get one of my paintings to sell for. Those uppity galleries in the bigger cities don\'t appreciate what I do. They simply collect, collect, collect; just because my name is on the corner. For their own publicity. When I sell, I want to find a home, not a buyer." she paused, crossing her arms over her chest. "I\'m sure you could understand." A simple smile, fangs and all.

"But I am flattered that you would show such concern with something so..." the immortal turned to \'Of Solitude #45\' with a look of pity, feeling as if it did not convey even the shallowest of what she had felt that night. Not that the every-day onlooker could tell the difference. "Incomplete," she finished after a long pause.

[Saiketsu]

The younger nodded, always the perfect gentleman. No need to enrage a goddess so near. "I do understand. But, if you don\'t need the money, if you don\'t mind me asking, of course, why would you sell them at all? I find art to be an idea expressed rather than a product one can hang on the walls.

"So why sell? It would take an imbecile to miss the blood taken to produce such a piece, and I\'d know great anxiety upon parting with a piece." His eyes remained friendly, no need to act as \'one-of-the-guys\' around a lady so fine. Truth be told it was hard for him to cut down on his sly, crude comments when anyone at all was around.

But Nikolai was no fool. He knew that this immortal, rising only centimeters shy of his own height, frail and delicate as she may have been, could most likely put him through the wall without thinking twice. So his smile, not completely feigned, remained in place on his lips as the servants began to wield the painting away. Discreetly he watched the other\'s reactions, trying to see what was causing the dear lady to paint such magnificent works of chaos and pain. It made him want her in his bed all the more.

[The Cedar Witch]

"It is a part of the creation process, to have someone look at the emotion behind the painting without actually ever understanding. It\'s an astoundingly vulnerable feeling, stripped an naked, but equally as satisfying." There was still a part of her that lept out at the canvas as it moved away from her, carefully handled by the two demons she had hired so many years ago. They knew full well to move slowly, so not as to agitate the lady.

"And even though it absolutely tares me apart on the inside, it is a pain that I cannot create without." The woman turned slowly to the piece before her, which was really a cheap attempt at copying the style of Francis Bacon. Obviously, this student didn\'t have the slightest idea what they were doing, nor could they apparently recognize that their \'work inspired by a master\' lacked the tormented emotion that was so characteristic of the man. But, most of the artists featured in this gallery were human with little to no conception of true suffering. Not to the slightest degree. Not to the thousand-year-degree that she herself had accumulated,

"Besides," the ancient turned back toward the man, something dark in her gaze that didn\'t seem to match up with the nonchalance of the words that she was choosing. "If I didn\'t release them, they would take up too much room in my studio.

"But anyway, enough of my babble. Tell me, what is your name for I feel that I\'ve skipped the most basic of introductions." Another stunning smile.

[Saiketsu]

Despite her words and the nastiness so typical of Nikolai, her smile dazzled him into momentary forgetfulness. Nikolai\'s poised appearance dropped for a split moment, revealing the vampire as the sucker he was for a beautiful face, regardless if she was a woman or not. No creature could be out of his book with a smile like that which could bring any man to his knees.

But of course the vampire tried to gain his composure back. "I\'m Nikolai... Nikolai Armani." Slipping on his charm again, the younger offered the lady a genuine smile as he took her cool hand with the fingers of a surgeon, flipping the palm over his fingers and pressing the marble-esque flesh of the back of the lady\'s hand to his cool lips. "And how may I address the lady tonight?"

To Nikolai, nothing was for show. This was all necessary. It was evident from the first time she spoke that she was of hyper \'order\' than Nikolai was, something he could accept easily enough as he stood in close proximity to her. She was an ancient and there was the obligation of respect to the female. And if his newly-forming plans were to have any weight in reality, the vampire had to sway this immortal woman towards him. A bit of submission for now would be nothing for the younger.

[The Cedar Witch]

"Nikolai..." she echoed, purring as if tasting the name, syllable by syllable. The gesture put forth by the other immortal did not go unappreciated. Either he was smart or genuinely polite, not that there was much of a difference to the woman anyway. "It is a pleasure to have your acquaintance." Her cool nature seemed to defrost to the slightest degree, enough for her to act more open toward him. With the delicate smile still on her lips as she withdrew her hand from his grasp, Sonya matched his gaze with and underlying intensity not directed toward anything in particular. Something subconscious in her still stressing her absolute authority, possibly.

"Sonya Turkevich," her accent rolled rampant in her last name, something she still took pride in even after so many years. She was, after all, descended from a long line of royalty and the name held immense power. Not that anyone from the west could understand or possibly know that.

"So tell me, Nikolai, what draws you to Qamar? Am I right to assume that you are an artist?" it was something she was saying simply for conversational purposes, discovering the answer wasn\'t something of her interest. The ancient would, however, pay close attention to the way that he spoke, using that to determine whether or not she thought that he was worth her time. And if she was going to have fun with the rest of the night.

[Saiketsu]

He was beginning to think that he may have been a sucker for accents as well as for beauty. First Jean-Luc. Then... well, that was a territory he didn\'t want to step into just yet. After all, the night was still young. "Of sorts, yes. I mostly dable in... surrealism whenever I sketch." He sighed, keeping his eyes off of hers. "No works on display this city though.

"Sometimes I just come here to see exactly what the depression of human-kind can offer me." Nikolai\'s green eyes landed on hers for a soft moment. It was hard to keep his eyes off her figure for an extended period of time. "So far it\'s been less than a night\'s entertainment. Some of these \'artists\' show promise had they another twenty years of experience and teaching. But they\'re only human." The vampire smirked at the lady, his arms folded over his chest.

[The Cedar Witch]

"It is intolerable for me to see such space in a gallery wasted on the novice population, all screaming the same exact pathetic thing without a shred of originality." The Ukrainian uttered darkly, moving slowly around Nikolai to another painting on the other side of him. She leaned in to look closely at it, and continued speaking in a low voice. "I haven\'t seen a decent surrealist in almost eighty years, and that was Salvador Dalí." Her jade eyes flickered from the painting back to Nikolai\'s eyes.

"So as you can imagine, I am quite deprived of anything new and exciting." Sonya straightened back into her perfect posture and slid her hands into the back pockets of her pants, doing nothing else to elude to the possible implications that her statement may have been making. "Is it too forward of me to request a review of your work?" Again, the immortal\'s eyes drilled into his, waiting for any sort of interesting reaction. Half of her was hoping to be brought someplace interesting because frankly she was still hesitant to bring men into her house. But, if he had any sort of sketchbook with him, then she would really have no choice. The tactic would have to be switched.

[Saiketsu]

He should have seen the question coming, especially once Dali\'s name was dropped. Nikolai could only smirk, declining as politely as possible. "My collection is... quite private. I chose not to show it often and allow the viewer to remain breathing. A habit, you can say." The smile was still fixed on his lips as if he had just told her something amusing. The younger, however, had no idea how the lady would respond. And while he never liked to deny a beautiful face any type of pleasure, his gallery was often private for a good reason: faces of Jean-Luc, of Judas incarnate, of explanations he had developed through epiphanies over his immortal life.

Too many eyes had scoured his personal life and lived to speak of it already.

Nikolai\'s green eyes met the lady\'s challenge with strength but much less arrogance. He had no desire to die another death tonight -- only the developing wish to get laid. If he could play his cards right, maybe he could even get bragging rights to say that he had dominated a queen like this... Sonya. His head swelled with the idea. "I hope that doesn\'t disappoint you." And Nikolai looked concerned.

[The Cedar Witch]

Sonya smiled, lowering her head in a faux-disappointment that was playful in it\'s nature. "Oh, No, of course not. I understand. Perhaps some other time then, when you are feeling less shy..." she offered, looking up at him innocently. It was a flirting game and she really didn\'t expect to see anything of this Nikolai--much less his artwork--after the closing of the evening. She found his decline rather novice, leaving her wondering whether or not he had as much confidence as he was exhibiting outwardly. Then again, he was young.

"So tell me, darling, do you have plans for the night?" the woman moved closer to him, yet still did not deny him the basic rights to personal space. Sonya straightened her posture, eyes still drilling into him with the same intensity that she spared no one of. She wasn\'t hitting on him per se, really she was getting bored standing around here looking at mediocre paintings. Besides, she had already gotten what she came for. Respect and money.

[Saiketsu]

Sonya\'s step closer didn\'t go unnoticed by Nikolai -- in fact it awoken some dormant senses and made them stir. Her scent was intoxicating, blending beautifully with the scent of her hair: queenly was the only word he had for it. From this point, Nikolai could get a farther view into the depths of her blouse and the idea of having her this close made the image of having her beneath him in a bedroom that much more tangible.

That member within his pants stirred as well, a small wave of desire expressing itself by way of hardened skin. Nikolai wondered if he should even bother trying to hide it; maybe she would see it as a form of flattery. Maybe it wouldn\'t even show.

"To be honest, Sonya," he liked the way her name sounded as he said it too, "I really had no concrete plans for the evening. I was hoping that Qamar would hold some of my interest, but I guess not.

"Why would you be asking, if you don\'t mind? Have something up your sleeve?" An easy grin.

[The Cedar Witch]

The ancient stretched her back, subtly moving her chest closer to him before she crossed her arms in front of her and resumed her previous posture.  She hadn\'t noticed any physical reactions coming from Nikolai purely because she wasn\'t looking in that general direction. She had noticed, however, where his eyes were. Not that she minded. After all, men were all the same. Dead or alive.

"Well, my plans for the night were to go for a little ride," she eyed him with a quiet hunger, nothing he should have noticed unless he was paying attention to her face. "And I wouldn\'t mind company, if you don\'t mind riding bitch." she smiled pleasantly, wondering if he would take up the offer of pressing himself against her back, at least for a little while, while they tore up the city. The Ukrainian didn\'t know how prideful this boy was, most human men couldn\'t resist her and swallowed whatever dignity they had. The aspect of getting her in bed was enough to coax them onto the motorcycle that they would never have control over. But there were no guarantees in this situation. She still hadn\'t decided whether or not she was going to take him home.

Sonya did, however, want to have him pressed against her for the ride at least. Wherever that led was entirely up to the gentleman. After all, she was a lady.

[Saiketsu]

He resisted the innate temptation to bit down on his lip as she stretched. Vampires hardly needed to stretch, no matter how old they were. So she knew I was looking. It made him smile wider. Maybe she\'d be more willing then he thought. After he had humored her, his eyes found hers and that slightest bit of hunger drew him in. So she was more than willing.

Nikolai cocked his head. "The lady has a motorcycle. Huh." There wasn\'t too much of a debate. He loved going fast and he was beginning to fall in love with the scent of this woman. And of course he was always willing to give a beautiful lady some company if she wanted a ride. So that was settled. "Only if you\'ll have me, darling. I would hate to interrupt a private moment between herself and a beast."

[The Cedar Witch]

Sonya grinned with her teeth, "Oh, I\'m sure she won\'t mind." the \'she\' being the bike, of course. Kitten. Not that anyone save herself knew that name. With a quick and inhuman pace, the woman moved toward him, stopping at his shoulder so that she didn\'t need to stretch her neck forward to speak softly into his ear.

"I\'m ready when you are." another seductive smile and she was quickly walking away from him, without looking back to see if he was following her. The immortal was out the door within a matter of seconds, eyes habitually searching the sidewalk for \'Kitten\'. Without slowing her pace, she reached the bike and finally turned back to see if Nikolai had matched her pace.