An Expected Encounter

[Victor Lark]

Victor waited like a shadow, ready to follow whatever course could be chosen, savoring the discovery of the decision. The taste that wallowed between his lips was hardly different from any other’s, but even behind closed eyelids he could not quit his investigation; a second later, his hand snaked from Laszlo’s face and toward his neck, but it was not allowed time to linger. They parted, and Victor chose surprise. His head tipped to one side in a lazy question, eyelids heavy and lips light as air, staggering in the false haze of a lust that had never been anything but cold curiosity.

Even as his hand dropped to his lap, he did not recognize the ethaefal’s soft refusal until he tried to move against it. An amused grin glanced down at the hand that held him. Words spilled sloppily into his ears as he shuffled rebelliously out of Laszlo’s grasp, but neither did he bother to insist. I’m not complaining, he said; now that was a curious thing to mention. Victor considered the man in his confusion, his analyzing and remembering and respecting. He should have guessed as much. But wanting?

Perhaps not while the sun was up.

He held that golden gaze another moment longer, and then broke it with a conceding bow and a patient smile. Glancing at the window, as if to catch a glimpse of a flash of movement that had not happened, he leaned into another draught of beer and stood. Victor’s associate was formidably taller than he, when they both stood, but in that instant the human was granted some towering of his own. As he traced a tickling crescent from Laszlo’s brow to his jaw, he mumbled, “Isn’t everyone?”

There was plenty more to learn, but it would not be today. There was a cloud, a vulgar mixture of Victor’s audacity and Laszlo’s bewilderment, hanging too close to their exchange for anything else to come of it. The capricious mercury in his head darted to the window again, affirmed that using the front door was still not an option, and fell to impassive stone as he regarded the opposite end of the hall. “I should get going,” he mentioned, then retreated from the table without ceremony and escaped suddenly upstairs, out of sight.

[Macabre]

Thread Complete!
“Unbelievable. You, [subject name here], must be the pride of [subject hometown here].”

Laszlo
XP: Storytelling 2, Interrogation 1
Lore: A Ravokian’s Pawn

Victor Lark
XP: Investigation 3, Subterfuge 2, Seduction 1,
Lore: Story of Fenwick the Fisherman, A Game of Boundaries

Notes: tl;dr.