multiversallogs | 003 | OPEN. red lipstick on the end of a cigarette.

Who: Hasibe Ozcelik, and OPEN.
What: A show premieres at The Vault.
Where: The Vault.
When: Evening til the wee hours of the morning.
Notes: I will set up sections in the comments for people to hang out.
Warnings: WELL IT'S AN ADULT CLUB, SO.

The show starts at nine o'clock, and the bar is full pretty quickly thereafter, but the variety in the club is pretty striking. Xenians in their best suits, non-Xenians in leather and ripped fishnets, everything in between. There doesn't seem to be a lot of cultural divide here between human and not, even given recent issues. Hasibe makes good on her promise to have members of her cohort given seating preference, as she's sweet-talked the cocktail dress-clad hostesses, and the bartenders (in their vague approximations of suits with very open shirts) are aware that she's invited a lot of heavy drinkers. ...she just assumes people in her cohort want to drink--they've been kidnapped to a strange city with many new things to offer, so why wouldn't they?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When he speaks to her, she's in the process of leaning over her mirror again, fixing her hair and make-up, reapplying that bright-red lipstick. Hasibe's smile is visible in the mirror, and she sets her lipstick down to make her way over to Mitchell, tucking her thumbs through the loops of his jeans. With her heels off, she's shorter than him, though only by about an inch.

"I wouldn't mind. But if you don't..." She tips her head back, playful, but deliberate, too: once someone opens this Pandora's box with her, she considers it her right to drive them up a wall at all times. Excess calls to her, as does hedonism, and sexuality tends to be her preferred method. "Every time you see me across the room tonight, or even think of me mid-conversation--and you will--I want you to think about how I'm going through the night wearing your fingerprints on my skin. Your teeth, too."

Those little bruises and bites delight her, in their way.

"Okay?" And then her smile flashes bright and cheerful, as though that soft, provocative note never happened, and she backs up a step. So innocently.

The thought appeals to him, as demonstrated by the fact Hasibe's not getting away that easily. He makes a grab for her wrist, tugging her back for another kiss. She may well have to re-apply that lipstick again.

Although when Mitchell breaks away with a sly smile, he considers something he previously hadn't. "How smudged am I?" A lot, probably, but he lacks a reflection to check. He rubs at his face with the back of one hand.

Judging by the quick, bright laugh, quite a lot, yes. Hasibe attempts to help him out with that, summoning a cloth from her vanity and handing it over.

"I'm going to have to forsake the lipstick around you, I see." She waves the tube in his direction. "You're different like this."

With his persona down, but not wholly the killer, either. Somewhere in between. (She likes it, though, as is probably obvious.)

He wipes at his face quietly, considering what Hasi said. Once again, he can't help but think back on what he used to be like under Herrick's influence, when he was pushed and enabled to extremes.

But Herrick isn't here. Neither are George and Annie. It can feel dizzyingly weightless.

"I'm not sure what 'this' is yet."

She applies one final coat of lipstick (hopefully), and watches his expression in the mirror. There's something about this ritual she actually quite likes, despite her earlier assertion about clothes--getting dressed, feeling the bruises, the aches. There are parts of a person that can only be learned in the aftermath.

"You don't have to," Hasibe says, reassuringly. "Just...feel your way."

He continues to dress in silence, slipping on boots and buttoning up his shirt with the exception of one conspicuous looking gap. Once done, he turns and opts to kiss Hasibe's neck rather than cause more disarray.

"That seems to be tonight's theme." He lightly rests his chin on her shoulder for a moment, before adding. "Although I think I better leave before I change my mind about being dressed again."

In the mirror, she sees--well, herself. She knows Mitchell is there, pressing herself back against him (a touch more provocatively than is totally necessary if she wants to actually get them out of hat room), but she can't see him. Vampires. She tilts her head to the side, unfazed.

"You'll see me again soon, I promise. I do have some company staying at my apartment at the moment, or I'd invite you back." Hasibe likes Sally well enough to let her crash there, but is not sure a vampire with the more-than-occasional desire to eat people should spend a lot of time around her.

"It's fine. There's something I might need to do tonight." No prizes for guessing what, Hasibe.

"In the meantime, I'll hold you to your word." It's said gently but there's an insistence there, underneath it all. "But for now I'll have to love you and leave you." One more kiss --this time to her cheek-- as he moves off to leave.

She doesn't tell him be careful, but there's a note of it in her eyes when she smiles her goodbye. It stays nonverbal, but there's a promise for later in it, too.

It would be hypocritical, really, to say 'be careful' out loud. Trouble will find whoever seeks it, so she lets him go without a word.

003 | OPEN. red lipstick on the end of a cigarette.

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