Sweet dreams are made of this...

    Unfortunately, the last man she had lured to the pond hadn’t gone as quietly and peacefully as she anticipated, as evidenced by the red-tinged water of the pond beside the rusalka. 

     The man should have known better– wading at the edge of a pond after sunset and not carrying a cross, or wormwood. Nor had he thought to bring her any presents. Tsk, tsk. Nevermind all that– she’ll weave him a lovely garland of water lilies to cover up the gash the rocks had made on his head. He’ll be beautiful and whole again. And all hers. No one will take him away from her again. 

     She glances away from the fading bubbles, her gaze lured away by a sudden movement at the corner of her eyes, and the green fires fade from her eyes. A person. Just how much did they see? 

     No matter– they will be dealt with soon enough. 

Mimic noticed nothing amiss in Camille’s expression or reaction. Slowly, she brought the brush through the fae’s dark locks. She alternated the brushing with soft strokes of her hand. Her hair was silky beneath her touch, and if she brought her nose lower, it would smell incredible.

But she didn’t do that, content to stir the alluring scent with the motion of her hands and brush. When she caught the smile in the reflection, bright blue eyes danced and her own smile pulled her lips upwards.

“I’ve always liked your hair,” she admitted. From that very first moment when she–then a he–had met Camille. She’d only wanted to play with her hair and brush it, and Camille had let her. “It’s very pretty. Do you think I should have hair like it?” she asked, her attention turning back to watching the brush sweeping through her locks. “I could, you know.” She was a shape-shifter. She could change anything about herself if she wanted.

Her thoughts shifted gear though, brow furrowing slightly. “What does that mean? Acushla?”

“It’s the equivalent of darling in Gaelic– just a shortened form of it.” As she speaks, the fae adjusts the costume she’s wearing, allowing the thoughts of love and affection to fade from her mind, going into a pre-performance meditation of sorts, letting all emotion slip away into the ether. 

“I ought to warn you ahead of time, an important client is in the audience tonight, and I may have to entertain him.” She hopes that the young demon understands the implication lacing her words. As the pretty headliner, the boss expected to seal deals with powerful beings coming through by using Camille’s powers of persuasion– put simply, usually involving sex or blood, often both. It’s not the most ideal situation when she has a lover such as Mimic, and it’s a game she doesn’t always enjoy playing, even if she pretends to, but she has a roof over her head and a way to forget the past by doing so. That’s something, right? 

Even if the man is protected by one of the Daoine Sidhe, and has powers himself, still– many of those here hated the Seelie court enough to risk incurring her wrath. Clearly the man had to realize the danger he could be in, and why she had to explain herself thoroughly, otherwise, she doesn't know what Saoirse saw in him. "Your paramour is one of my friends, I might add."

The dark haired woman tilts her head, looking in the general direction of the bed where Andy was sitting. “Well, she didn’t tell me you were such a rude·amadán, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to cook for you at all.”·

“Look– I’m not one of the people who brought you here. I honestly don’t care about the whole court politics bullshit, but seeing that you’re an outsider here, as I once was, let me give you a piece of advice: If you want to survive here, you’re going to have to make friends with people other than little miss sunshine. Particularly if the boss-lady calls you into her tent.” 

She sets down a plate of food on a nearby table, her long black horse’s tail swishing behind her in annoyance.

“I have no reason to make you forget everything, kill you, or keep you here forever. I mean, I could eat you if you really wanted me to, but it just seems like a lot of effort and drama without any pay off, really. Besides, I never really developed a taste for your kind.” 

There’s a nonchalant shrug, and she averts her pale eyes, which look as though they are covered with cataracts. To be honest, she thought humans were always a bit dull, but if this one was important to Saoirse, she may as well try to be nice. 

     there’s only a deep laugh that resonates from the god. ammit’s fingers still tight within camille’s raven tresses and her nose along the smooth of her neck. inhaling her scent and leaving marks of her teeth along her skin. “ we’ll see. ”

     “I must not be doing my job well enough, then. You should be wanting to keep me forever if I’m doing it correctly.” She purrs low in her throat, a hint of playfulness in her words before she angles her neck to allow the god better access to her throat. A small sigh of pleasure escapes between her parted lips, and she draws the taller woman further into her embrace, closing her eyes. 

“I am in complete disbelief that Camille tried to seduce you. I sincerely hope that you told her no, on principle alone.” 

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