(🌃) My muse meets yours in the nighttime city.
moonlight starters. || ACCEPTING. || @numrous
The night was alive with the music of flutes, violins and harps outside, neon lights illuminating the new goth nightclub in town as the scent of rosemary and thyme filled her nose. High heels clacked on the chessboard marble floor while the vixen in a woman’s flesh takes a seat in her assigned table. On a night like this, where she could smell the sea even from several yards away, with no one to bother her about missions to be completed, Beretta Belladonna could enjoy the nightlife for once. It was during times like these that the woman could enjoy being alive, living for more than the mission, more than the walls she had lived in all her life, like a cage. She sips her martini in her wine goblet, the sweetness filling her throat. It was a shame that her fellow comrades couldn’t be here.
A … what was the word normals called it… ah, a date, with Striker would have been ideal, but alas, her partner had been assigned on a solo mission. Well, at the very least, she could tolerate normals … though Beretta pitied them all, they who could not understand or comprehend the meaning of true greatness and power like she did. She knew from the way they all looked at her with desire, men and women alike, as if she were some forbidden fruit, yet they knew all too well not to get too close, for she would devour them whole should they merely look at her the wrong way. She could slaughter this entire city and no one would be able to stop her, she could sup off of their life’s blood if she were a vampire, and she could run this nothing town if that was what she truly wanted, all with just the crack of her whip.This was power.She knew it, they all knew it, smell it in the air and feel it in her very aura.
Beretta awaits her order like the patient woman that she was so she admires the red candles and the red and dark purple lavalamps illuminate her table while Half God Half Devil by In This Moment played from the club speakers. Yet one scent that reached her nose... was utterly intoxicating, perhaps even otherworldly. Grey hues shifted to find the source and upon finding them, brows arched in intrigue. Japanese... what is this man doing here in Italy? The woman soon realized that she didn’t care, all she knew was that for whatever the reason... this one was not like the others. Beretta couldn’t place a finger on it, but... there was something about him that was... inhuman.
When two monsters cloaked in human flesh from foreign lands collide, what happens then?
❝Buonasera,❞ Her voice is as velvety and smooth as silk, the greeting of her mother tongue rolling off of her tongue like honey as the man approaches her. In all honesty, approaching someone with her aura... that was bold of him. The Chimera gestured to the seat opposite of her with a painted nail before clasping her hands together, ❝ You may sit. ❞ The femme fatale’s lips curved upward into a sugary sweet smile as she smooths out her black dress.
