Owner	Pose
Selene Gallio	Selene Gallio is the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club and the Nova Roman empress. She has been many things to many people, so many she has not the memory or interest to remember them all, but she has always safeguarded her origins, her name, Selene. It was the name given to her by mother and first sacrificed, the name of a goddess. She has adapted to what godhood might mean over the course of the centuries, but now, in the modern age, gods seem to do it differently. The False Gods are dead, no more crusades or torching of witches, and the Old Ones rule the night hiding among the flock, and the black-haired woman has learned to do so. Case in point, Selene is getting talked up by some chad. Very rich, very pretty boy, his father has membership rights, and so does he. Selene, every youthful and ethereal in her beauty, nods, she giggles, she smiles. Outwardly she looks human, she acts human, but a predator would tell a predator hiding within her. The way her eyes are impassive, never blinking, staring too often at the boy's neck as she laughs like any other bimbo. Selene wears her mask of humanity mockingly, disgusted and amused all at the same time, and another huntress would pick it up on the fact she is not trying that hard to mingle. But boy oh boy, does the enchanted young man does not notice. He is just so impressed the beautiful woman would be SO interested in cars and his vacation in Dubai, and to his credit, Selene does look good in the liquid shadow of a dress she wears, the slit on its side cut high on her hip, baring her long legs for him to eye when he thinks she is not looking.
Ella Normandy	Vampirella notices. Normally, she wouldn't care. Selene's scent doesn't mark her as one of Lilith's children, and therefore not really Vampirella's problem. Sucks for the young man, but no one knows better than Vampirella does that sometimes a girl's gotta eat. Part of her blames him for not noticing. The woman isn't really even trying very hard to deceive him, and he's still falling for it. He's like a child, really.     Maybe that's what moves her to pity. Maybe she can't help imagining the child he was (though he probably dressed much less like Little Lord Fauntleroy than she's currently picturing) and thinking about what she'd do if someone preyed on one of the kids at her school. She'd kill for it, but killing wouldn't bring the kid back, or unbreak her heart.     So, for the first time in a while, Vampirella decides to be proactive.     She strolls up to the table, wearing a black leather bra under a red silk blouse left open like she's at the beach. Her bottom looks like compression shorts if they were made of leather and held up with a belt made of interlocking, golden rings. Her arms drip with jewelry and she's wearing her favorite boots. She cuts quite an unusual figure in the club, and the boy looks up at her, dumbfounded, when she sets her palms on the table and leans over it to look him in the eye.     "You're very tired," she informs him, in her thick accent. She's shouting over the club's noise, but she sounds as smooth as velvet all the same. "You're going straight to bed, and when you wake up you'll remember what an amazing night you had."     The boy immediately yawns so hard it looks like he might dislocate his jaw. Without another word, he stands up and walks out of the club. Smiling, Vampirella takes his still-warm seat and regards Selene. "Sorry. You looked bored so I thought I'd save you."
Selene Gallio	Selene watches the exchange between Ella and the mortal, froze in time and allowing her eyes to dart back and forth between the two, analyzing every little bit of interaction. She savors how whatever spell is cast on the young boy acts and reacts to such weak will. As he leaves, Selene's eyes slowly drift towards the other woman, and the retort has the Black Queen's dark lips widening into a wicked grin. "Bored? You could say that. I suppose that makes you my entertainment for the night, and I do like the move. Very assertive. I like people who take chances. You are pretty corageous, dame...?" The raven-haired mutant's eyes do not blink as she keeps staring, and although there is a certain level of anger for having someone getting rid of her food, Selene is also quite entertained by the twist of fate. Adjusting herself on her seat, the woman shows some respect for Ella by shedding her whole omgnowai persona. She leans back, allowing her gaze to rake down Vampirella's form and then back. "Why did you do it? Knowing what you must have surely felt about me. Not many people in this... city care about each other. I watch it every night. Is anyone in trouble? 'Not my problem'. You... you charge fast. And I am intrigued~" The immortal seems to take her time savoring everything about the newcomer, from the way Ella behaves and her lips move. She has many questions for the other woman, as even the accent hails from elsewhere. Good. Selene was getting tired of listening to people here anyway. As she leans forward, the mutant wets her lips, and suddenly a servant is going towards them.
Ella Normandy	Vampirella, who was born or possibly built to be the image of enticement for her prey, is used to being raked over by another person's gaze, and she doesn't comment on it. Her forearms rest on the table, lightly crossed at the wrist, as she considers Selene's question for longer than one might think it would take, eyes locked on Selene's but not really looking AT them: her gaze is turned inward. After a moment, she decides, "Someone called me a Taoist once. I don't know what that means, but she said it means I take the path of least resistance when it comes to obeying my nature." Despite her thick, nearly Sesame Street accent, her proficiency with English and her word choices are effortlessly American-bred. "And I don't waste a lot of time on introspection," she adds with a sudden, brilliant smile that showcases teeth so straight and white any human would have spent at least thirty thousand dollars to get a mouth like that.     She leans back in her chair, right hand still lying on the table, left dangling casually at her side. "What about you, intriguing lady? Complimenting me is a good start to earning my name, by the way, but you'll have to work just a little harder."
Selene Gallio	Selene mouths 'taoist' when the word is spoken, like she is memorizing the concept, before her dark eyes narrow and her lips curve into a sharp grin. There is a moment where she says nothing at all, and then the Black Queen is looking about, even if her attention is nowhere but entirely center on her current partner in banter. "Am I to understand your nature is to... save the meek?" Those eyes then finally find their way back to Ella's, as Selene smiles. Her smile doesn't quite suit there, it looks dangerous, always a little vicious. "Or to seek the best partners?" One eyebrow cocks, haughty, as she leans in to take Ella's hand on hers so she can feel the woman's skin with the padding of her thumb, just the thin cloth of her opera gloves keeping the touch from actually happening. "If you are challening me for your name, know that I am a very poor sport. My colleagues say I hate losing more than I like winning, so you must understand... there is a certain... energy I bring things. Even the littlest things." Selene looks playful, she looks beautiful, but her voice is almost shivering already. She feels like an animal at times, ready to pounce and bite. "Do you know who I am?" She asks, out of curiosity. Selene, from her posture, looks like the sort of woman who would expect people to know her. She even has that little smile on her lips, of a person who *loves* to hear her own name.
Ella Normandy	Vampirella glances down at the contact on her skin, a lightning-quick flash of the eyes before returning her gaze to Selene's. "It's my nature to follow my desires," she corrects, which is true if rather uselessly tautological ('it's my nature to obey my nature' isn't as deep as Vampirella might think it is). Her own lips quirk easily, relaxed and amused at Selene's implied threats. "No, I don't know who you are. Are you offering to tell me?"
Selene Gallio	Selene frowns. She was expecting to be known and it is obvious. The frown lasts, but she peers at Ella for a moment, as she nods. "Yes. I was. My name is Selene Gallio. I am... known around here." Not many people know of the Inner Circle, but many people know of the black-clad woman who haunts these environs, how she will often pick someone and take them away. She looks at Vampirella and releases the woman's hand. "Have you ever met someone and you wanted to bite them?" The question may be weird, but Selene can think of plenty of reasons to bite someone, and in no small amount, there is a desire to know. Words are complicated, people are difficult. Sometimes a little bit of blood can really get a conversation going.
Ella Normandy	Vampirella looks minutely disappointed at the retracted hand. She leans forward in her seat a little bit and relents, "Nice to meet you, Selene. Call me Ella. And of course I have. Biting is a natural thing." Her lips pull to the right in a little smirk, and she leans forward, weight on her elbows, face juuuuuuust inside the bubble of personal space. "Why? Are you looking to bite, or to be bitten?"
Selene Gallio	The psychic vampire smirks faintly as Ella seems to react poorly at withdrawal of that hand. She pouts cutely, teasingly, before she rolls that nome on her tongue, as if musing how it would be to speak it. She smiles in the end, and stands, offering her hand to the other woman even if she looks around, searching. She speaks, paying attention to their surroundings. "I always do the biting." It is stated quite casually and confidently. Her hand is held aloft for Ella to take, as if they are going to go somewhere, even if Selene hasn't stated just where. "We can do the thing." It is all that the New York ancient says before she finally looks at Ella, arching a brow, goading the woman to stand and come.
Ella Normandy	Vampirella notes the scan and is mildly impressed by it. A true master would have already been aware of her surroundings without the need to check so blatantly, but checking blatantly is still better than not checking at all. She considers Selene's hand for a moment, smiles, and accepts it, rising easily. "'Thing?'" she inquires, with affected innocence. "What thing?"
Selene Gallio	The Black Queen turns and pulls Vampirella in with the same impulse, guiding the other woman closer with more grace than strength, even if she seems to possess both in spades, and not a iota of desire of hiding. Close, she places a hand upon the other woman's hip, eyes on Ella's as she wets her lips briefly, but clearly. "The thing. The dance. That little interplay where mortals pretend they do not know where this all ends, and wonder who fast it will get there, who will draw first blood, who will cave first. The dance. The thing. The ritual." She says ritual in a weird way, as if she means something more than a simple night out. "You can still pretend you have something better to do with your night, with your next few decades. Now is the time to do it." Still, Selene is moving, and unless Ella makes the slightest move to resist the Black Queen, she is getting moved to the dance floor. Resistance means Selene lets go of that hand, moving like a writhing shadow into the crowd.
Ella Normandy	Every alarm bell in Vampirella's head is screaming. She's known people who take it as fast as Selene does, both men and women; and despite her bestial instincts, her mind is sharp enough she has failed to think of the implications of interrupting another predator's meal.     Yet the loneliness whispers, 'Maybe it will be okay,' and that half-hearted whisper is somehow louder than the cacophony of alerted instincts.     So Vampirella joins Selene on the dance floor.