13469/WIll rename wheneverwhen

WIll rename wheneverwhen
Date of Scene:	29 November 2022
Location:	The Public House - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Lydia Dietrich, Blake Riviere

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Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Despite the fact that Lydia doesn't really eat anymore, she still enjoys fine dining in a amore aesthetic kind of way. She czn szvor tastes the same way one might enjoy looking at a painting, or hearing a particular piece of music, which is why she can be found here, in one of the most exclusive restaraunts in New York. She's dressed for the cold, with a thick brown tartan skirt, and a thick black cable knit sweater. As always a field of stars twinkle about her, which gets glances from a few of the patrons, and a few disgusted whispers of 'mutant' from others. She's used to that kind of thing, though, and readily ignores it.

    On her plate today is smoked salmon with horseradish to give it that nice tang, and a side of roasted asparagus. Beside her is a glass of resling and piled high a few books and journals that she'll occasionally scribble in.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Perhaps in its own way Lydia had come to appreciate Blake's explainations when it came to her own 'life', that human food was simply for the experience for her rather than any sustainence, certainly the heiress turned immortal didn't seem to be that offput by the new way she had to appreciate the meal in front if her to Blake's eyes...

And those eyes were on her, the vampiress with her raven black hair and those ribbons in place in her hair was dressed rather simply, a black dress that was flattering and showed off a glimpse of her shoulders and neckline, but didn't quite scream designer so much as comfort.

Slipping up, there's a light chuckle in her accented tones. "This seems almost familier..." she teases lightly.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia looks up at Blake's voice with obvious delight. "Blake! It does, indeed. Care to join me?" A ribbon of gold snakes out from her starfield to scoot a chair back for her fellow vampiress. "It's good to see you again. I've always enjoyed our chats. Hold on..." She raises an index finger and quickly traces out a sigil in the air, leaving a trace of gold where her finger passes, and once it's complete the sound of the other diners becomes muted somewhat. "There. Now we can speak freely. Nobody will hear. What have you been up to lately?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
Impressive! Magics had clearly been practiced, but it's function seemed flawless enough that Blake was happy enough to settle herself in with a chuckle.

"I focused my efforts here for a while, although I did notice you seem to have met my Ariah in your travels. Tell me, was she what you imagined, after I told you my stories of her?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
"And I her..." Blake muses softly, smiling despite herself. "Countless years old, and yet she still makes my heart sing. The bond of the blood is one thing, but beyond that..."

She trails off, a soft little laugh from her lips. "There were times where I did wonder if you were to end up her sibling, facinating me as you do, but it seems you found your own path."

A beat, there's a tilt of her head lightly. "Surely you've not found yourself lonely in your nights Lydia..."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia's strange golden eyes twinkle in delight when Blake confesses her adoration. "I adore my sire" she says. "And she me, but it's strictly platonic. I'm not sure she's capable of romantic love anymore. I just don't see it. Being thirty-five hundred years old is a long time to exist and I'm unsure if even /I/ would be capable of it were I to reach her age. I'm unsure that I'd want to exist that long, if I'm to be honest."

Shehe chuckles, "Believe me, I thought about it. Fantasized at night what it would be like to be turned. But, had you asked me back then, I would have said 'no'. Well, really, 'not yet.' There's something to be said about capturing the beauty of youth, but I would have wanted to live a bit longer. Maybe ten years or so before I would have been ready." She heaves another sigh, "Sadly, I wasn't given a choice in the matter."

    Blake's last question puts a sad smile on Lydia's lips. "I've had many bedfellows since parting ways with Raven. I even have a harem!" She chuckles as she says, "Well, not really a harem. Not quite. I've been building a network of consentual adults who I can regularly feed from without having to go hunting. We all share resources so it's mutually beneficial. Sure sometimes sex is involved. I never thought I'd end up being so carefree on the subject, but you do what you must. I've come around on the casual sex thing. There's something to be said about having a bit of fun betweene the sheets without any real attachments. It's not the same, mind you, and I'd rather have a romantic parner but..." She gives a little shrug. "I haven't really been looking. I'll welcome it if it comes, but I don't know if I'm ready yet, after what I did to Raven."

Blake Riviere has posed:
Understanding crosses Blakes features, but more than that...sympathy perhaps. On more than one count indeed, but Blake gives a little nod at the first. "I am...younger than the power I have suggests, perhaps that is why I have not yet succumb to such numbness, but the one who made me...he had become something far worse. Over five thousand years he claimed to me, yet it made him cruel and dark...till I brought him to his end."

Topic of fantasy does bring a smile back, suggestive flirtation flitting before she shakes her head lightly. "Oh I know...and it is not something I would do lightly. I'm sure you remember how we spoke of it."

As for the last? There is a sympathy there, a smile in her lips and a questioning tilt of her head at the mention of Raven. "You will find someone, perhaps unexpectedly, when it is right."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Five thousand years is a /very/ long time." Lydia admits. "/If/ it's true. From what you told me of the man, it wouldn't surprise me if he had exaggerated a bit." She looks contemplative for a moment. "I don't think my sire would succumb to such cruelty. She walks in thye light. It's a hard path to walk but it has its advantages. "

    "I do," she says, returning the sly smile. "It's why I never brought it up. It wouldn't have been something I would have asked of you, fantasy aside." A small sigh escapes her. "There's a part of me that regrets never asking. At least then turning would have been /my/ choice."

She brightens with Blake's reassurance. "Oh, of that I have no doubt. Life has a way of turning ironic for me, so it's only a matter of time before I fall for some human and introduce her to the dark world of vampire politics." She reaches out and takes a sip of her wine. "Not that I, you know, have ever actually encountered much of it. Mostly it's just been one clan trying to kill another like so many thugs. It's disappointing, really."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"I have no doubt," Blake muses, a little shudder down her spine even now at the mention of her maker, but she was all too happy to move on to better topics.

"I promise you, even if becoming what we are is not your choice, making it what it will be for you is."

Blake extends a hand, warm as living yet almost certainly provided by the blood of another. "And you will always have my help if you wish it."

As for the last comment, Blake offers a soft little laugh. "It can be tedious. Fortunately most of the formal clans take a leave and let live approach to me these nights. I made it far too expensive for them otherwise between myself and...the connections of the club."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Yes, I suppose it is," Lydia says. "I've made a mess of it so far, but ... I'm learning how to be better." She looks down at the offered hand, and takes it, her own skin dead cold. "Thank you," she says. "I appreciate it. I could always use a friend since most of mine have abandoned me. I don't blame them, though. They had good reason."

    "They've left me alone, for the most part. I've proven myself to be more dangerous than what it's worth to bother." She gives another wan smile. "Look at me. 'Dangerous.' If you had asked me a year and a half ago I would have never thought to call myself that. Meek as a doormouse, and afraid to fight. How things change."

Blake Riviere has posed:
Blake was far from judging given her own early decades as a vampiress, something Lydia likely remembered her stories of.

Hand gently offering a squeeze, the raven-haired girl smiles. "I'm sure you'll always find company and companionship with myself, and Ariah as well. Her turning was voluntary...but also necessity."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia nods. "I remember. Mine was..." she winces. "If Raven and my sire had been any later, I would have been turned anyway, but I would have been in the thrall of a rival clan. I once joked about how fate had it in store for me to be turned, but the more I think about it the more inevitable it seems."

    She squeezes Blake's hand and lets go, reclining back in her chair. "You see, my sire is Hatshepsut. There's a /reason/ why her successor tried to scrub history of her name. I'm the last of her bloodline, so we are tied in blood in more ways than one, and apparently that makes me very valuable to her rival clan." She shrugs. "Sooner or later they would have found me, and used me against her. I was just fortunate that she found me first. I keep going through my mind how things could have been different, what could have been done to keep me safe from them and to let me live my natural life but..." She shakes her head. "It just wasn't meant to be." A grin dissipates the melancholy tone of her voice. "Still. It's good research material for my books, is it not?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Life can often throw us changes stranger than fiction," Blake agrees, a little laugh before she takes a moment to retract her hand and rest it against her own cheek. "But even this is life, a life of its own. It still brings me joy, centuries on...I certainly hope it will do the same for you."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia looks sad and she pokes at her fish with a fork. "Perhaps. It doesn't feel that way to me. Life is... warm skin, a beating heart, breath in your lungs. Mostly I feel like I am a soul trapped in a corpse animated by blood magic. I didn't always feel this way. It wasn't until..." She hesitates considering how much to share. "Until I threw away my humanity. I'm still recovering from that."

Blake Riviere has posed:
It's quiet, a moment of curiousity from Blake that clearly made the other woman feel the gaze of the elder vampiress on her. "Tell me," she urges gently, perhaps pondering if that wound beneath her tones really did sound as familier as Blake thought from her time after being a bride.