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Khalida wanders. Lets her gaze slide over the sea of intoxicated mortals. Watches them talking, dancing, laughing, cavorting amongst themselves. Feels the press of innumerable curious, hungry eyes staring back at her. Offers a coy, inviting smile.
Resists the urge to sneer and clench her teeth in irritation.
It’s not that the decor of Club Crimson is bad, per se. It just feels too obvious– tryhard, like someone giving you a knowing nudge and wink when you already saw the play on words coming before they even opened their mouth.
There’s dim, sultry lighting. Dark, inviting nooks and alcoves. An abundance of long, low, plush reclining couches.
God knows how much it costs to get the stains out of all that velvet. The mortals are behaving themselves for now, but Khalida suspects it isn’t just kindred who are invited to indulge and ‘find their bliss’ come midnight.
It’s all a bit… suffocating. Humid. Decadent. The atmospheric equivalent of someone who’s made their way through most of a bottle of Cabernet mouthbreathing over Khalida’s shoulder.
Still, if Khalida finds the overly intimate atmosphere grating, there’s someone else among her coterie who’s sure to be all the more discomfited. Khalida scans the club anew, this time searching for a depressing pall settling in like a storm front over some dark corner.
Ah! There she is– drab, slinking Coco. Prowling around in the shadows like a jackal that’s been chased off from its meal.
Or in this case, is still sniffing around in search of one.
Khalida begins to pick a leisurely but determined path towards her sullen associate.
Coco has cornered a hapless clubgoer of her own, and seems to be having as little luck extracting anything useful from him as Khalida did with her own attempt. Khalida arrives at Coco’s side just as she dismisses her victim with a scornful wave of her hand.
“It seems they’re available in considerable quantity, but not with much quality,” Khalida notes, watching the man retreat with slumped shoulders.
“Aren’t you supposed to be ‘finding your bliss’?” Coco quotes, with a touch of sarcasm.
“Oh, I’m finding the pursuit itself to be quite a delight. I enjoy the chase,” Khalida lies through her teeth. “Just thought I would circle around and see if you needed any help.”
“How altruistic of you. No, I think I’d prefer to keep beachcombing by myself,” Coco says wryly.
Khalida ignores her. “No luck with your seashell? Well, my opera mask has made themselves scarce, too–”
“Really? I’d say there’s plenty of pageantry here to go around. Maybe try checking a mirror,” Coco cuts in.
“Well, you're quite right that I’m adept at keeping people– myself and others– entertained. And since our humble hostess has not yet deigned to make an appearance, I decided I would extend those graces to you,” Khalida returns.
Coco rolls her eyes. Khalida steps in a little closer.
“I meant what I said with regard to Aisling, and it’s true for you, too. It’s only a matter of time before you warm up to me.” Khalida tucks a loose strand of Coco’s hair behind her ear and gives her an affectionate pat on the cheek. “My Turandot.”
“I’d rather be referred to as a Queen of the Night,” Coco corrects, tilting her chin reprovingly.
Khalida raises an eyebrow.
“Going to hand me a dagger and tell me to run Daddy through?” Khalida inquires.
“Hmm. No, that actually seems more like Kiếm’s game.” Coco’s face grows serious. “Her sire has been missing for weeks. And she’s acting strangely tonight.”
Khalida sighs. “You never hesitate to bring the mood down, do you, Coco? I suppose it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye on her.”
“Oh, I’m keeping an eye on all of you.” Coco fixes Khalida with her most forbidding stare.
Khalida just grins. “Oh, I know. Admit it, you can't bear to look away.”
Khalida tilts Coco’s chin up with two fingers. She lowers her eyelids, gives Coco a languid smile.
Coco licks her lips and opens her mouth to say something, but words seem to escape her.
Khalida leans in for a kiss.
Coco gives a sharp inhale, but doesn’t shy away. As their lips meet, she takes a step towards Khalida, directing her deeper into the shadows of the club. Khalida allows Coco to tuck her into a corner around the curve of the stage, surrounded by a group of enthralled dancers.
Coco puts a hand to Khalida’s waist, sways close so that they are chest to chest. She lays her other hand to Khalida’s clavicle as she breaks away from the kiss to speak into Khalida’s ear.
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation from a few nights ago.” Khalida feels more than hears the words as Coco whispers them against her cheek.
“Oh?” Khalida murmurs.
“I’m ready for that conversation to be... continued.” Coco’s voice is measured and cool, but Khalida feels the hand at her waist tighten.
“Mmm…” Khalida lets out a pleased hum, deliberating.
Coco pulls back just enough to regard her, still nearly nose to nose. The gaze is unblinking, but her eyes are a little softer. They linger over the minutiae of Khalida’s features– the angle of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips, the set of her jaw. Enjoying what she sees.
“I’d welcome a continued discussion,” Khalida finally agrees. “In friendlier surroundings, I think.”
Coco starts, as if suddenly remembering where they are. “I– well, yes. Obviously. Not now,” she half-mutters.
“I wouldn’t have put it past you. You can be quite assertive once you’ve decided what you want,” Khalida says breezily. She takes a step away, moving towards a gap in Coco’s protective circle of dancers. “A few nights from now. I’ll send a carrier pigeon.”
“Don’t wait too long. My nights are only getting busier,” Coco cautions.
“Patience, Princess. I told you I like the chase.”
As long as I’m not the one doing the chasing, Khalida amends to herself.
She turns her back to Coco, wading into the throng to set one of the revelers to hunting down her bliss.