Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2013 21:49:05 GMT -5
The Church. A gothic looking afair that was quite literally raised from an old, abandoned church. The place was a nocturnal hotspot for vampires, humans and the like, where vampires could feed freely as they wished and humans came seeking a little fun. Pulling her motorcycle out in front of the stone afair, she hung her helmet off the bar and swung one black leather clad leg over the side so she was standing to the side of her bike. She'd dressed like she typically did when she came here. In leather pants, a pair of boots, corset, jacket.. A choker adorned her neck with a black cross hanging from it - her own little joke to the little, fake myths about vampires. All black, all reflecting what she was. Dakota Mitchell was a regular at the Church, and a comrade of the owner, Luka Neverov. As it was, Neverov and Mitchell didnt make friends. However, they were as close as they could be otherwise.
Making her way up the steps into the Church, she looked around. She wasnt just here to drink. She had a reason. She hadnt fed in days, and the effects it was having on her was immense. It was always in moments like these that she needed Luka. He was her mentor, the man she went to when she needed to feel pain - and therein, pleasure. When she needed to feed. For some reason, Dakota hated feeding alone. She often did it in the Church where he was close by, or somewhere where they could hunt together.
Stepping past the threshold, her gaze scoped the entirety of the club before it landed on one man. His clothes were as black as hers, wrapping him in dark shadows that made him look even more sinister. With a smirk, she walked over to him and stepped in against his chest, pinning him to the edge of the bar, "Luka..." she said, her voice a husky purr as she slid a finger slowly down from his throat to his chest, hooking it in his shirt playfully, "Have I ever told you how much I enjoy your company? I was quite hoping you'd like to help me with some of my... needs." she said, a slow smile crossing her lips.
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TAGGED: Luka Neverov
WORDS: 382
OUTFIT: here
NOTES: In one of her moods for a little sex and violence