more dumb vignettes

The finishing touches. If there was one good thing about being a kindred, it was that no errant pause to eat or drink would ruin his perfect blood-red lipstick. How strange this all was. Perhaps Alois was taking this 'queen' thing a little too literally. At the same time, there was something exhilarating about this. A quick peek in the mirror confirmed it; he looked damn good. The red gown hung on his pale body, standing out crimson on his white skin. Curly hair fell over shoulders that may have been a bit too broad for the dress, but dammit, he made it work. He had to pause to adjust himself through the lacy panties that hugged against him, but even that was fine, exciting even. And where /did/ Alois find shoes like this in his size? Elegant, shining stilettos that propped his ass up, made his hips sway as he walked. Glittering ruby jewels and slick nail polish pulled the whole look together.

He smiled at his reflection, showing fangs. There was no denying it, he was hot. Even the Prince seemed surprised at how well the whole look came together. This was a queen worthy of taking to the finest gala. And so they went.

Luka drew eyes left and right, some in confusion but all in awe. That's right, he thought. I'm gorgeous. Don't forget it. One figure that approached, however, had intentions that weren't so benign. They seemed to trail him, wherever he went, glaring and fidgeting with something in his hands.

Luka, noticing that he was being followed, lured the figure near the back of the party. A glance behind him confirmed that whoever it was, they had come armed. There was something else odd about them...

"You aren't exactly dressed for the event, dear." he said, his voice a low purr.

"F-fuck off, bloodsucker." The man growled. He started to raise his weapon towards Luka's head. There was a whirl of red fabric, and those pale, painted fingers wrapped around the man's wrist. With a snap, the man yelped, dropping his gun.

"You weren't invited, were you? Here to crash the party and cause trouble? Oh, I can't allow that."

Before the man could argue, his words were cut off by a strangled groan as the Kindred's fangs pierced him. Soon, all that was left was a corpse on the floor, body colorless and pale except for a lipstick mark on the side of his neck.

Still not a hair out of place, Luka thought, heels clicking back to the party, wiping that last drop of blood off his chin.