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 Dimming the City of Lights, Tag | Gerwulf Brandt
Sabine Kitaev
 Posted: Oct 18 2016, 07:39 PM
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gifted human
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"I listened to your problems, now listen to mine." I didn't want to anymore






From the moment the three girls stepped through the velvet rope to enter the club, Sabine was ready to leave. The events were purely gut-wrenching, though her smile remained even and eyes wide in the flashes as she stopped once, twice, then several more times to pose for the cameras. Her two model friends posed for their own brief notoriety then moved on, leaving all lenses trained on her which was exactly what they wanted. It was a rare outing for the heiress to the supermodel royalty that was her late mother and the photogs couldn't get enough. That short walk across the photo-op wall seemed ten thousand miles long and by the time she disappeared into the shadow of the darkened club, she was barely holding it together.

"My dear, you look more like her than ever!" A frail but sprightly older woman with an unexpected shock of purple curls gushed, pressing her bony fingers into either side of Sabine's jaw and leaving dark maroon lip prints on both cheeks. "Come, come, I want you to meet my new partner. He'll be taking over the fashion house when I croak." The woman dropped her hands then curled an arm around the younger girl's waist as she gave a small melodic chuckle and greeted two familiar stylists and another model loudly. They all recognized Sabine and babbled stories about the dead woman like she was just a friend who was casually absent for the party.

Sabine slipped out of the older designers grips with a quiet apology, scanning the crowd, first for the two friends she'd come with then the easiest path to the bar. There was no easy path to the bar. Everyone the girl passed expressed some sort of overt excitement to see her. All she could hear in their voice was pity. That's all it ever was. By the time Sabine reached the bar, she was shaking. Closing her eyes for a brief moment and whispering a mantra to calm herself, she steadied herself against the back of a chair then slipped into it. The barkeep trotted over and Sabine flicked a finger up towards a top shelved bottle that was much stronger than what she'd been drinking in the limo with the girls.

"Thank you." Her soft voice showed no sign of distress though her heart was still thumping in her throat. Lifting the glass to her lips, she tipped it back, quickly draining the caramel liquid. Before the empty glass returned to the bar top, a fresh drink was placed in front of her. This time she didn't immediately take it, instead averting her attention to the small clutch in her lap as her hand dipped into it then clapped up to her mouth. Then Sabine took the drink and slid out of the chair as she heard her name being mentioned behind her. Unsure of whether they were talking about her or attempting to get her attention, she ignored it and hauled off the other way, out of the VIP area and towards a quieter hallway leading to the toilets.

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Gerwulf Brandt
 Posted: Oct 18 2016, 08:27 PM
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There was a time and place for everything along with everyone, tonight was enjoying an event hosted by the cream of the crop. The literal creme de la creme of society, fashion and a few other markers of wealth in this city. Though how Gerwulf got here wearing this seasons designer duds was another story entirely. That feeling you get when an old flings grand daughter finds your number and calls you, not realizing what you are and how you came to know their sweet art loving granny. It only happened once every few decades and all he had to do was appear quietly and ask them politely not to mention him to anyone. As easy as that sounds, it's harder when the fling is still alive and you haven't aged a day in those handful of decades.

Gerwulf did his best to explain and was pleasantly surprised when he got to give a beautifully mature woman that was divine in the sixties a goodbye kiss before taking her grand daughter out for a day or two of fun. One thing led to another and he ended up mistaken as some designer boy-toy, dressed up all pretty before being dragged into this place by some guy called Pierre de Franco. However long he was out cold, he hoped that the girl would be alright passed out in that empty Jacuzzi. Hair brushed aside, waxed in a stylized wave, a silk button shirt colored a deep fuchsia with dark trousers and designer boots. All that made him what he was elsewhere while this handsome devil stood in Gerwulf's place.

He had already received some offers to model or asked which agency he worked with, playing it off. Half in ignorance and the other half as someones secret project. Sure enough he had taken photos before, nudes even, but that was in the early seventies and as payment to private owners. They had an agreement that such things appearing in the mainstream or in the hands of others would make him return unhappy. Those who agreed to such a bargain with him, knew of his existence or at least understood how severe outing a supernatural would be. Shaking his head as he reached the bar, in time to see someone begin to drown hidden sorrow as he motioned for the hard liquor and asked for a highball of the stuff rather than a shot.

After an exchange of looks between Gerwulf and the bar tender, his prayers were answered as the man just went about doing what he was asked. The smells in here, sweat and bodies made him feel primal. Though the insincerity he could hear through the beating of hearts along with disingenuous remarks made him want to harm people. This was not his scene, though he was dragged here to be eye-candy, he felt he had done enough for the mans career. Something caught his attention and he smirked, the woman who was the center of attention before, something to do with her family. Had just popped something into her mouth before leaving the VIP area. Curiosity and the sense of adventure helped him out of his own stupor as he followed her into the hall, sipping the hard whiskey from the tall glass.

People generally stepped out of his way, especially when he gave off the impression that only predators could. Licking his lips of the liquid, he moved into the quiet and cleared his throat ever so slightly. His pale green eyes catching the light ever so softly as he smiled, brow raising. "Are you sure you should be mixing alcohol with that?" his Germanic accent was hard to place and the gruff voice was one that spoke of strength, though how smooth the sound seemed to be was well practiced. He would tilt his head ever so slightly as he watched her for a response. Probably defensive or similar when caught doing something one shouldn't. Hopefully it was a totally different perspective, he needed something out of the ordinary in this place.
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