skyhigh in colorado

Up close he understands what had appealed to the bleeder. Pretty is pretty but there was something he couldn't quite put a name to behind her eyes. Even has his charm washed over her there was something clever, searching. It was going to be fun watching realization dawn upon them later. Ciaran never shows his hand this early.

Her flirtation is a treat, likely brought on by the molten nature of his hell given allure but he responds to it anyway. "Lovely, it'd be most pleasant to keep your company," he smiles, a soft line not nearly as vulpine as it would usually be. His hand lifts to the place hers brushes his arm and covers it gently, allowing him to walk her to the lounge quite gentlemanly as if he were truly her escort for the evening. This too is a pretty picture, one he's sure everyone around them notices.

By the time they arrive in the other room he's remiss to release her— drawn by her interest— but their contact should be her doing. Choice is the illusion that must remain with her until the very end. He sits beside her on plush cornered sofa, half a sheer curtain away from the open area of the lounge, creating a sense of privacy that doesn't truly exist in a place with this many unearthly eyes. They still have full view of everything around them but he intends to hold her interest regardless.

When she came out to the bar tonight, she had every intention of leaving alone. Meeting this charming stranger hadn't quite thrown a wrench in her plans, but if anyone would... it'd be him. His eyes were enchanting and there was an air about him she wouldn't quite be able to identify. It wasn't obvious, but there was a familiarity about him that strung the wrong chords. It was comfortable, she never second guessed taking the offer of his arm and following along as if she'd known him a thousand years. And then, it was strange, the sensation that glided so easily down her spine as he spoke to her.

Georgia would glance at the stranger as they closed the space between them and the intended space that would, apparently, be much better for her. Away from the culprit that all but ruined her night. This was all too easy for him, Georgia was led along in a smooth turn of events that were extremely unlike her.

"See, normally it would be considered in polite manners to offer your name to the person you approach. An introduction, which is deemed appropriate. This makes me suspect you're playing games, or have every intention of giving me a false name. So, what is it... hmm?" She arched a single brow his way, indicative of her newly found suspicion of the handsome man who seemingly fell out of the sky -- or popped up from below -- right in front of her. Materializing just as she needed a nice face to look at, a nice voice to wrap its words around her.

What Evan didn't know was all the texts Stella and Georgia had been sending each other. This guy was special, he was different, and she thought Evan would like him and approve. But she kept her mouth shut, letting him make his own assumptions. He wasn't wrong per se, there had been a pattern in the past. But this guy didn't seem to be the same. If nothing else, again she wouldn't tell Evan, the sex was better.

Evan had always known that his kid sister was close to Stella. That tended to happen, when he'd known Stella most of his life. When she was little, Georgia would follow them around and Stella wouldn't tell her no, even if Evan did. As they got older, and despite having a sister of her own, Georgia gravitated more and more towards Stella. He just didn't want to admit that maybe his girlfriend had a closer relationship with his own sister.

Reign watched Kennedy with the same quiet intensity she always did—like she was studying her, peeling back the layers without so much as lifting a finger. The confidence, the bravado, the effortless charm—it was all there. She tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. “Admiration suits me,” she mused, voice smooth as silk. “Though, I think you give people less credit than they deserve. They don’t fall at my feet, darling. They offer themselves willingly. There’s a difference.” She let the words settle, her smirk never wavering.

Kennedy's laugh tumbled from her lips easily, smoothly. Reign had always been the girl Kennedy admired, the girl Kennedy thought she wanted to be. At least, before she realized that all the admiration was actually something else, and that she was wildly attracted to Reign. "No, you're right. They do offer themselves willingly." As did Kennedy.

Ali fought so hard to keep from rolling her eyes. Gavin always knew what to say to make her smile, make her blush... but also what to say to get on her last damn nerve. She didn't ask for this, she didn't want this to be so awkward. When they decided to go through with the trip they'd booked so long ago, she thought that maybe, just maybe, there would be a chance that it would be okay. Maybe even make up, or head towards some sort of reconciliation. The longer they were together here, though, the more she began to suspect that was all just a stupid dream. "Fine. We'll take the king. Thanks."

"Hey I'm still alive, it's all good." Callum said with a smile as he looked at the other. "It's not a rough day for me without a bit of injury. "

Demons don't fuck around when it comes to the neutral zones. Most of them are demon owed for that very reason. They hold up their side of the bargain. It didn't hurt that they are fluent in most languages and dialects. It was one of the stranger things to come about after the Neutral Laws, and a real point of contention. They've got a rightfully earned bad reputation and the no-nonsense way they disposed of rule breakers didn't help it but regardless, they kept the peace and thus keep the profit. Mostly, it beat being in hell.

He, himself, didn't make a habit of being a good samaritan— it was a rather human thing to do— but he would intervene if necessary. It was not a dutiful action, Ciaran was simply out of his mind with boredom and ready to make that somebody else's problem. He hadn't gotten his hands dirty in quite some time. Thus, he watched, lazily, from a dark corner of the room for any disturbances that might require a swift solution.

He swirled the glass of scotch in hand while surveilling only to stop abruptly as he spotted a little, blonde thing boxed in by a bloodsucker. It was not his establishment but it didn't matter: a human being drunk-drained on the premises would set a bad president. He hadn't yet moved before she'd shoved the leech back and stuck— if all things, a wooden olive pin through his hand. Now that was interesting. That wouldn't kill him, Ciaran wouldn't have cared if it did, but it sure as fuck would hurt like hell while it healed. He loved a feisty one. Souls were all the sweeter for it.

There was a clause in the neutral laws that prohibited violence which dictated justifiable self defense, particularly on the part of a human against a non-human, was permitted. The sticky bit was the clause also stated it was specific to physical altercation. He knew there were at least a dozen camera angles that would show she drew first blood. Ciaran loved a loophole. He emptied his glass and followed her to the secondary bar across the room.

He's a demon, not a creep, so he left plenty of space for her to catch her breath before he stepped in her path. When she stumbled his hands lifted to hover beneath her elbows in case she needed help balancing. He was careful not to touch her directly. It wouldn't hurt him nearly as much as it had her previous company but he certainly didn't want to be on the wrong side of her olive pin.

Georgia, ever the little feisty human, was always on high alert. While this place was neutral territory, she knew that as a human girl she was very much susceptible to attack the moment she set foot out of those large wooden double doors that led them into the wild outdoors where no one was protected. She needed to prevent that, so she kept a keen eye and ear out for danger which sometimes got her to react a lot sooner than she likely should.

The bump into the stranger caused her to take a step back, trying to prevent herself from falling over. Her instinct said to brace herself, to get ready to punch and run if needed, but the moment her head tipped back and she met the gaze of said stranger, Georgia relaxed. Lowering her walls this early would never work in her favor, but there was something enchanting about his eyes that was casting a spell that wrapped its magical aura around her slender body and squeezed every bit of opposition and objection away.

Her smile was so easily drawn onto her lips, and that hazy look fell over her bright blue eyes as she lingered in a longing look for a few moments too many. Then, the brush and gentle shove of a crowd of beings walking past her brought her back to reality.

"Ah, that's alright. No harm done." Not to her, anyway. "Prevented the inevitable awkward and potentially dangerous situation of him waiting for me outside at last call. Then I'd really be done for, hmm?" She wasn't sure yet what he was -- he wasn't a vampire, she could tell by his eyes and the hue of his skin. What.. was he? Not human, no -- he was far to enchanting for that. Georgia's eyes searched his, perhaps leading to a silence that lingered too long for their surroundings.

"I wasn't planning on going there, but... if you are, I'll gladly tag along." The words left her lip a little too flirtatiously for her liking, but it was too late. She'd already said them, and he was already so physically close. She felt something radiating off of him, something that was luring her in closer.

"I might of. Who remembers who says what? At some point Georgia told you or me. I'm sure you'll have a nice time meeting the guy. From what she's told me, he's special and really good to her." Stella shrugged, grabbing her Kindle from her carry-on bag. She didn't turn it on, happy to talk to Evan, but she wanted easy access for later. She looked around at the plane. They were in the last row before the flight attendant area. If they wanted to do something, they could have some privacy. "I'll think about it. It's a long flight."

Evan made a face when Stella reminded him that sometime soon after they got back home, he'd have to sit through some excruciating dinner in which he'd have to pretend to be interested in whoever Georgia was introducing him to. It wasn't that he didn't care, his sister just had the tendency to bring home one of two types; really obnoxious and brag-y finance dudes, or lame industry typed who thought themselves too good for movies or tv but had never actually graced a live stage before. This one was apparently a lawyer, but he still hated awkward dinners.

He would glance back over his shoulder at whatever was behind them, then looked back at Stella. He didn't quite believe that she'd think about it, but he'd settle for that answer for now. It only made him add a mental note to take an actual private jet back home that was just them.