FANCY DRESS Far be it from Jean-Claude to turn down the occassion for fancy dress. When he arrives to the party, he's dressed up to the nines. But not in just any old attire. His hair is worn loose and gently curling about his face, soft and touchable. His shirt is white linen, lace at the collar and at the cuffs. He has a doublet on over it, black silk brocade with silver embroidery that catches the light just so, and above that, a black leather jerkin. With black hose, black stockings, and black shining boots with a shining silver buckle, a short black cape, black leather gloves, and a large black hat with a black feather complete the outfit. With all the black leather and black fabric, and his hair like this, it makes his skin look even paler than usual, nearly deathly white, and his midnight blue eye nearly glowing in the midst of it. He looks every inch, from the tip of his hat to the toe of his shoe, as though he has stepped directly out of some Renaissance Court. (Maybe because, to some degree, he has.)
He smiles charmingly as you approach, sweeping the hat off in a bow that might have looked extreme for any other, but for him it is entirely natural. He's gorgeous, almost too much so, but his face is just handsome enough not to be beautiful. As he straightens, the smile fades into something coy. He's old enough to be able to hide his fangs in polite company, and he's fed recently enough that his skin should be warm, if you manage to get close.
"It is a fine night for such an affair, is it not," he purrs, his accent French in origin, his voice low and warm, coy in all the right ways (he's had centuries to get it right, this level of flirtation, after all). "Though I dare say it will be finer still in your company."
ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK The road is dark. Wet, though the rain has stopped. It's late at night, and there is no moon in the sky, and the only light is coming from the streetlamps overhead. Unfortunately, up ahead, there seems to be one out. It is right in your path, and you must pass through this patch of darkness to get where you're going. Unless you turn back, of course. But that would be silly. It's just dark, right?
That is when he appears, from the shadows in front of you. As if he'd emerging out of them. His eyes like blue fire, his skin as pale as the moonlight itself. He is dressed smartly, dark trousers, knee-high dark leather boots. He has a black velveteen frock coat buttoned tight and drawn up close against him, as if to shut out the chill of the night air, but even looking at him there is still something... Off. If one knows where to look for such qualities. He raises one hand to the corner of his mouth to touch a white handkerchief to it, and it comes away with a dark spot of color, that might just be visible before he tucks it into his pocket.
He glances up at you, dipping his head in apology. "I apologize if I have startled you," he says. His voice is low, warm. Seductive. (He's had practice.) The accent helps. (French.) "You'd best be on your guard. It is not safe out here in the night in the dark at this hour." He glances over his shoulder, then back at you. "You never know what you might run across."
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE [ooc: Do you have another idea? HAVE AT ME!!! PM if you want to discuss, otherwise go wild!]
Jean-Claude | Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter | Vampire
Far be it from Jean-Claude to turn down the occassion for fancy dress. When he arrives to the party, he's dressed up to the nines. But not in just any old attire. His hair is worn loose and gently curling about his face, soft and touchable. His shirt is white linen, lace at the collar and at the cuffs. He has a doublet on over it, black silk brocade with silver embroidery that catches the light just so, and above that, a black leather jerkin. With black hose, black stockings, and black shining boots with a shining silver buckle, a short black cape, black leather gloves, and a large black hat with a black feather complete the outfit. With all the black leather and black fabric, and his hair like this, it makes his skin look even paler than usual, nearly deathly white, and his midnight blue eye nearly glowing in the midst of it. He looks every inch, from the tip of his hat to the toe of his shoe, as though he has stepped directly out of some Renaissance Court. (Maybe because, to some degree, he has.)
He smiles charmingly as you approach, sweeping the hat off in a bow that might have looked extreme for any other, but for him it is entirely natural. He's gorgeous, almost too much so, but his face is just handsome enough not to be beautiful. As he straightens, the smile fades into something coy. He's old enough to be able to hide his fangs in polite company, and he's fed recently enough that his skin should be warm, if you manage to get close.
"It is a fine night for such an affair, is it not," he purrs, his accent French in origin, his voice low and warm, coy in all the right ways (he's had centuries to get it right, this level of flirtation, after all). "Though I dare say it will be finer still in your company."
ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK
The road is dark. Wet, though the rain has stopped. It's late at night, and there is no moon in the sky, and the only light is coming from the streetlamps overhead. Unfortunately, up ahead, there seems to be one out. It is right in your path, and you must pass through this patch of darkness to get where you're going. Unless you turn back, of course. But that would be silly. It's just dark, right?
That is when he appears, from the shadows in front of you. As if he'd emerging out of them. His eyes like blue fire, his skin as pale as the moonlight itself. He is dressed smartly, dark trousers, knee-high dark leather boots. He has a black velveteen frock coat buttoned tight and drawn up close against him, as if to shut out the chill of the night air, but even looking at him there is still something... Off. If one knows where to look for such qualities. He raises one hand to the corner of his mouth to touch a white handkerchief to it, and it comes away with a dark spot of color, that might just be visible before he tucks it into his pocket.
He glances up at you, dipping his head in apology. "I apologize if I have startled you," he says. His voice is low, warm. Seductive. (He's had practice.) The accent helps. (French.) "You'd best be on your guard. It is not safe out here in the night in the dark at this hour." He glances over his shoulder, then back at you. "You never know what you might run across."
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
[ooc: Do you have another idea? HAVE AT ME!!! PM if you want to discuss, otherwise go wild!]