Pulling her cloak over her shoulders and over the dark red coat she almost always wore, Cordelia stepped onto the road that led to the Dancer’s Nest. It wasn’t too late at night; when she had left it had been around eleven, and she was sure not too much time had passed since then. As long as there wasn’t anything to distract her when she was going some place, she usually made very good time, and tonight was one of those nights. She had been to the place once or twice in the past, though she hadn’t stayed very long at all on those visits to form an elaborate opinion of the place. It was darker than the taverns in Taras and Kellen, which she appreciated too much for words to even express. Taras and Kellen were really just too… well; they were bad enough that she didn’t have any great words to describe either of them. The Dancer’s Nest was refreshing though, even if she would never allow Kaiden to get in close proximity of the place. He’d get eaten alive there, and while she meant it in a metaphorical sense, a literal interpretation wasn’t too far off either.

So, tonight’s goal was to basically go there long enough to form an adequate opinion. She knew it was darker, but that simply just one aspect. While she usually hated taverns, especially after not having too great of a time whenever she went to one, she would be able to get over it for the night. This time she was going by her own choice – not because some deranged guy had carried her there after beating her up and not because her velociraptor needed food – so maybe it wouldn’t end up being too bad. And if there wound up being a problem, all she had to do was get up and leave and never come back. It wouldn’t be too much of a chore, considering she lived in Balefire; going to Taras or Kellen and then deciding to leave after five minutes was a much different story.

Cordelia glanced up at the green lantern that hung above the door as she gripped the handle and pulled, walking inside and crinkling her nose is slight disgust at the sound of the flutes. She hadn’t remembered that; that alone was enough to make her contemplate turning around. She couldn’t stand flutes, or any woodwind instrument for that matter, but she was absolutely fine with almost every other kind of instrument when it was played correctly. Ugh, why did it have to be flutes?! She growled quietly and closed the door behind her gently so as to not cause too much noise, since drawing attention to herself was not on the To-Do List for this evening. Stepping out of the doorway, Cordelia proceeded to look around and familiarize herself with the place once more. It had been years since her last visit, so she was bound to have forgotten all of the surroundings. Her eyes finally set on the stage as she removed her cloak and rolled it up into as compact of a ball as she could make it within her hands, finally just rolling her eyes. No one was up there, thank goodness. She was quite possibly going to go crazy when someone finally did decide to perform. Performances weren’t exactly something that entertained her, and besides, she hadn’t come here tonight to be entertained.

She finally made her way over to one of the empty tables and moved the tails of her red coat out of the way before sitting down so she could be more comfortable. She glared at the small candle that rested in the center of the circular surface and looked around before leaning over and placing it on the seat of the chair opposite from her. “Heh, I feel bad for anyone who sits there without looking…” she mused, giggling in a soft, slightly sadistic tone. Cordelia pushed her chair away from the table and put her rolled up cloak on the two wooden bars that crossed the legs before putting her feet up on the table, crossing her ankles over each other, and perking an eyebrow as she looked around. She was mostly out of the way of everyone, though she wasn’t going to remain completely unseen; that was a bit impossible for her, considering this was a public place and she wasn’t exactly dressed in dark colors. Since she had nothing better to do, she decided she might as well watch the people that would enter and exit the building; so she shifted her gaze to the door and pushed herself up a little bit so she could see better, lifting her index finger to her mouth and chewing on her nail as she simply waited for something mildly interesting to occur.

"Do I need to roast you alive, you little hound? No? Then BACK OFF!" came the hissing voice of a pale-skinned female, who, at the moment had fire ringing her hands as she held them up for a rather burly male to see. "Get away from me, you creep. I don't feel like dealing with your kind tonight!"

Sherise sighed, and waved a hand at the bartender, who hurried over and refilled her goblet with a dark red liquid. She brought the cup to her lips, taking a small sip, and then glanced around the room. In spite of the disturbance she had caused, the only change was that the flutes had gone silent. Which, in her opinion, was a good thing. Something about flutes brought back memories she didn't want to remember.

She shook her head, and set the cup back on the table. Unlike at the newcomer's table, her candle had been snuffed. She was a bit of a regular here, and almost seemed to sink into the shadows as she sat there wrapped in a light coat, black as night, and the skirt underneath, from what could be seen, was also black as night. So her attire was made, it would seem, to make it easier to disappear into the shadows.

There was a very good reason for this, though no one who could still talk would be able to tell the reason for this. There was something... cold about this woman, something... otherworldly, and only those that managed to get close to her seemed to understand just how wrong her aura was. And none of them were brave enough to say anything about it.

Cordelia’s attention moved away from the door and to a woman who was sitting not far off. Though most others hadn’t recognized the disturbance, Cordelia had fully heard that and seeing a woman stand up for herself in such a way made her smirk widely. The girl was merciful, though, to let him go; Cordelia would have gouged out his eyes if given the chance. She’d taken a liking to the idea of doing that to people lately; maybe it was a bit obsessive, but she thought it sounded fun. Too bad she hadn’t gotten to do that to anyone yet… what a shame.

In all the ruckus, there was something very noticeable, and that was the heavenly sound of the flutes ceasing their hideous squealing. Her eyes widened and she stared at the band, slightly dumbstruck. She would have thought that commotions were frequent here, since they were in every other tavern in Imythess. It wasn’t the display of almost violence that had shocked Cordelia, but rather the affect that it had had. No one else seemed to notice or care except for the people playing the flute. She was grateful, really, but a sudden thought came to her and she couldn’t help but smirk. They had to be little cowards… flutes were horrible instruments and she would have to imagine that the people playing them were pansies; it wouldn’t surprise her one bit.

She tapped the heel of her foot against the table before bending her knees back and sitting normally, biting the inside of her lower lip carefully so as to not draw her own blood. Her gaze hadn’t moved from the woman from before, though now she seemed a bit more calculating and concentrated than she had been before. Her brows had knit together and her hands rested on her knees as she tried to decide what to do. Going over there seemed much more appealing than staying over here by herself; it would at least give her something to do, wouldn’t it?

It was settled, then. Leaning over, Cordelia retrieved her cloak and unrolled it, this time folding it up into a square so it would be easier to handle. She stood up and left her chair away from the table, not bothering to move the candle, either. If someone sat down without looking, then that was their fault. She straightened herself and made her way over to the other female with heavy footsteps. It wasn’t really to let anyone know she was coming; she just wasn’t a very quiet person. She never had been, in any sort of aspect.

“I’m not one for being nice, so you better listen because I’m not going to repeat myself,” Cordelia said quickly in a slightly harsh tone, staring at the woman once she was at her side, her features still hardened from her earlier contemplation. “You made those damned flutes shut the hell up so you deserve some recognition. I just came over to say I appreciated it, I was about to go crazy and make a scene. But I was glad you were the one to make the scene – saved me the trouble.” She simply shrugged and took a seat, not bothering to ask if she could. She figured she could do whatever she wanted, and after being kind, she especially had the right to do as she pleased. She hadn’t really noticed the woman’s aura, since to her, there was absolutely nothing ‘wrong’ about it. Cordelia had the same exact demeanor, so she didn’t exactly take notice of those sorts of things. “And I have nothing else to say, huh. Too bad I’m in a better mood now, I could have made fun of you.” Cordelia tilted her head to the side, an almost apologetic look on her face. “Sorry to disappoint, I’m sure you were looking forward to my insults.”

Sherise smirked as well, the reason evident in the fangs that just barely showed and the red gleam in her eyes. "Not really. In fact, I'd just as soon you DIDN'T insult me. But you are most welcome. They were beginning to annoy me too. I normally come here, and they normally have fiddles or mandolins playing, and that I enjoy. Rather soothing, strings. But flutes? UGH!" She grimaced. "Not exactly what I would call soothing, now is it?" she said more than asked.

She loosened her coat, revealing that the blouse and corset she wore were also blacker than the shadows around the room, showing that she was adept at slipping into the deeper shadows, and knew how to make it easier on herself. She shook her head, and took another sip from her cup, which at a closer glance was actually true Bloodwine, a favorite treat of vampires male and female, human and non, across Imythess.

She smirked again, and her eyelids fluttered for a moment. "Surely you didn't intend to insult one of your own kind, did you? I should hope not. After all, we vampires have to stick together," she said softly, but strangely enough, carrying right to Cordelia's ears.

“…I normally come here, and they normally have fiddles or mandolins playing, and that I enjoy. Rather soothing, strings. But flutes? UGH!"

Cordelia liked this lady already! “Whoever invented flutes needs to… go die or something,” she said, unable to come with anything more imaginative. She could be creative at times, but right now she was in too good of a mood. Now that the flutes had been silenced she had nothing to be really irritated at. It was a peaceful, refreshing change of course; almost everywhere she went there seemed to be some sort of nuisance who never left her alone. Hopefully this woman wouldn’t end up being like that, though it wouldn’t surprise her much if she did. Everyone was annoying and needy and just plain childish around here… she truly hated it. “Or get their eyes gouged out. I hear that’s fun…” Still obsessing; oh well.

Her eyebrows rose when she finally took the time to notice what clothing the other woman was wearing. All black, nothing but black… it almost made her dizzy. While Cordelia preferred darker clothing herself, couldn’t the chick at least wear some other color, like red or blue? She looked down and examined herself in comparison, and after a moment figured she didn’t really have the right to judge. Her red coat covered a black, long sleeved shirt with black pants, with black boots adorning her feet. Still, at least she wasn’t going around all dark and dreary; there was some color to her!

Her eyebrows knitted when she caught a glimpse of the liquid inside of the cup, a bit confused. It wasn’t blood, though it had the same color, but she couldn’t see anything else from her point. However, she had a feeling there was alcohol in it, since there had to be alcohol in everything here, since it was a tavern. Cordelia had never been a fan of any sort of alcohol, since it didn’t take much of it to get her drunk and it took even less to make her feel nauseous. “I think I’m almost afraid to ask what that is,” she ventured, giving the cup an odd stare as if it was more of a disease than anything else.

"Surely you didn't intend to insult one of your own kind, did you? I should hope not. After all, we vampires have to stick together."

At the mere suggestion that she shouldn’t be mean to one of her own kind, Cordelia had to snort at just how ridiculous that was. She shook her head and didn’t bother holding back slightly obnoxious chuckles, snorting once again. “I don’t know what planet you’re living on kiddo, but I don’t stick with anyone.” There was no point in beating around the bush. Cordelia was straightforward and she wasn’t going to let this lady think that she could just go on ahead and think they were pals. “I insult everyone, whether they are my own kind or not, so please, don’t think you’re high on my list just because we’re of the same race. People don’t get high on my list for such trivial things…” There were far more important things than race, appearance, and gender. How did she not get that? “But, I’ll humor you, since I am in a good mood. Why should I stick with someone, as you put it, when I don’t know them and they didn’t even have the courtesy to introduce themselves?”

The woman smirked, fighting back more laughter. She was teasing the other vampire slightly, though her tone was completely serious. There was a part of her that hoped she would be able to see that she was partially joking, but the other part didn’t really care one way or the other.

"Kiddo? Hmph. I'll have you know, I'm far older than you may think I am," she said, pulling her raven hair back, revealing the point to her ears. "I was getting up in years even BEFORE I was embraced. I was here when the OLD gods were running around as mortals before ascension. So I should like a bit more respect from you, CHILD."

She leaned back. "As for names, as the newcomer, I should think you would introduce yourself first. After all, I've been sitting at this table all evening. And in answer to your question, it is bloodwine. Very heady vintage, but then, I'm nearly 2000 years old. Just because I don't look it doesn't mean a DAMN thing."

She shook her head, and removed the gloves from her hands. Yes, she had been wearing gloves this entire time, mainly to keep her hands warm. As she reached for her goblet again, a glimpse of brilliant blood red nails could be seen.

"Now that we have the question of age out of the way, perhaps we can be a bit more civil towards each other."

Cordelia merely rolled her eyes when she saw the pointed ears. Big deal! ‘Oh wow, look at me with my pointy little ears that make me look like a freak!’… She should have known that girl would end up being a nuisance. They all did in time; it was just a matter of how quickly they wound up getting on her nerves. “For someone who demands respect you don’t show it to others,” she said. “You can’t tell me to respect you. You earn my respect, and not with petty things like age.” This was truly sickening. She wanted to get up and leave, but that would make it look like she was giving up, and she certainly wasn’t doing that. Cordelia wasn’t about to let this other woman do whatever she wanted.

"As for names, as the newcomer, I should think you would introduce yourself first…”

This woman was getting all worked up for no reason. Why did everyone get worked up around her? It was amusing, but after a while things like that started to become tiresome. “Well if it’s such a big deal to you, fine,” she said. She had no problems introducing herself first, even if it was extremely rude for this lady not to do as she had requested. Old vampires really did have a superiority complex. “Cordelia. Now will you be sweet enough to give me your name?” Her lips curled up into a sarcastic, overly kind smile, obviously not genuine at all. She really didn’t care if this woman wound up not liking her; it wouldn’t be anything she wasn’t used to.

“…Just because I don't look it doesn't mean a DAMN thing."

“But the fact that you don’t act it means plenty…” Cordelia trailed off, shrugging nonchalantly. That was bound to strike a chord, but she wasn’t wrong. This lady was over two thousand, as she had said, and was bothering to bicker with a twenty seven year old. That was really just pathetic. After such a long time, wouldn’t the old hag have learned better? If she hadn’t, then she would probably be learning a thing or two very soon. The first thing would probably be that people didn’t always submit and do everything one wanted them to. Cordelia was so much younger than her and had already learned that valuable lesson. Sure, maybe she didn’t apply it, but she had learned it!

"Now that we have the question of age out of the way, perhaps we can be a bit more civil towards each other."

This woman was completely delusional. It was probably that… what had she called it? Bloodwine? Whatever that was, it was probably having some effect on her. At least, Cordelia hoped that was the reason, otherwise she truly had a screw loose. She’d heard that older vampires eventually lost their senses, but she hadn’t exactly thought she would end up experiencing it. “I’m being as civil as I possibly can be,” she said. In truth, she was only being as civil as she wanted to be, since she could be much kinder. Only a few people got to see that side of her, though. “But I do suppose you could work a bit more on being nicer. I mean, I came over here and thanked you and then you’re putting me in my place? Where are your manners?” She still wasn’t wrong. Then again, she was never wrong, so she didn’t really have to worry about that.

"You call me old, mock me, and call me uncivil, and then you have the nerve to lecture me about manners? That is MOST interesting. Apparently whoever it was that embraced you was lax in teaching you that the older a vampire is, the more wary you had to be of them. And that, my VERY YOUNG friend, is most distressing." She smiled, and leaned back in her chair.

To be honest, she had a very good idea what it was the younger woman was getting at. But she wasn't senile, far from it. She was ENJOYING tormenting her. After all, if you were immortal, why not enjoy the simple pleasures? No, there was no reason NOT to enjoy yourself when you had all of eternity to be serious. After all, vampires could only be killed in a very small selection of ways. And most were unknown to all save vampires themselves.

"As for names, since I only got a single name, that is all YOU get. Sherise is my name." She smiled. "And no, I am not senile. I merely enjoy tormenting those who have NO CLUE how old I am." Here she smirked, and chuckled lightly. "As I can tell you do as well, though maybe not targetting the knowledge of age."

“…Apparently whoever it was that embraced you was lax in teaching you that the older a vampire is, the more wary you had to be of them. And that, my VERY YOUNG friend, is most distressing."

Blah, blah, blah. Cordelia didn’t really care what she had to say. She had been warned about older vampires by her family plenty of times and she had been told she should show her elders respect, but that didn’t mean she went along and did it. She did what she wanted to, not what other people wanted her to. “I was told,” she snapped in response. This woman wasn’t really turning out to be too smart, but oh well, there wasn’t much Cordelia could do to help that fact. “I was told plenty of times. Doesn’t mean I have to listen… besides, age is only one factor and really, do you think you deserve so much respect just because you’re ancient?” She simply shrugged, clearly taking this very lightly. She turned her head away for a moment just to look around before turning her attention back to Sherise.

"And no, I am not senile…”

That small part of her statement received a snort in reply and Cordelia’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? Are you sure, Sherise?” Cordelia asked, a tiny grin playing across her lips. She wasn’t sure yet as to whether she disagreed or not, since she hadn’t known the other woman for very long just yet. She was teasing in a way, but like always she sounded mostly serious with a touch of sarcasm. “Or are you just so senile you don’t know you’re senile?” She laughed and shook her head. Maybe it was bad to say, but she was slightly amused with this conversation.

"As I can tell you do as well, though maybe not targetting the knowledge of age."

The younger vampire laughed quietly at that. She had found a good handful of people here that enjoyed tormenting people, which was an absolute relief, but of course with that came the horrible amount of people who were too scared to do anything mean to anyone. “I target everything, Sherise,” Cordelia said simply. She targeted flaws, turned the positive things about a person into negatives, and did a whole bunch more. As long as people kept talking and hung around her, it was hard for her to run out of things to do and say. “You should try it sometime, instead of just age. It’s a lot more enjoyable, especially the reactions you get. You’re probably one of the calmer people I’ve met… not sure if I should be disappointed or not. At least you haven’t tried to hurt me yet, I guess that’s good…” She tapped her index finger against her chin lightly, almost as if she was trying to decide. She would have liked a bigger reaction that she could make more fun of, but she was so glad that for once someone didn’t want to pick a physical fight with her over it. She had had enough of those.

She smiled lightly. "Well, I'll tell you this. There's a reason I don't react the way you would like. No doubt, because of where I centered my training before I was embraced, you would more than likely beat me in a physical altercation. But if it came down to magic... well, you see, there's a reason that I'm so quiet and reserved." She smiled darkly, and then shook her head. "I'm no physical warrior. I prefer to strike where someone's not expecting -- MAGICALLY. Most people that know even the slightest bit about vampires expect all of us to be all about weapons." She pulled her spellcaster's wand from her belt. "This is the only weapon I use."

She shook her head again, tucking the wand back into her belt. "I didn't say I enjoy tormenting EVERYONE, just those that leave themselves open to it." Sh smirked. "No, the things I get the most enjoyment out of are the things that I do every chance I get. A goblet of fine wine, parties, that sort of thing. Call me hedonistic. I call myself smart. I'm immortal, so I do not deny myself the simplest pleasures."

There was a reason other than her being crazy? Cordelia folded her arms over her chest and waited, fully interested in what someone else had to say for once. This was bound to be extremely interesting. She sighed inaudibly when she went on about physical fights and magic; couldn’t she get to the point already? This was just a lead up, and frankly Cordelia would have preferred her to be straightforward and explain all this crap later on. Finally she pulled out her wand and Cordelia tilted her head. Magic was fun, that was undeniable, but only a wand? “Sharp objects are fun too you know,” she said with a simply shrug. “Magic only takes you so far, after all.”

"No, the things I get the most enjoyment out of are the things that I do every chance I get. A goblet of fine wine, parties, that sort of thing. Call me hedonistic. I call myself smart. I'm immortal, so I do not deny myself the simplest pleasures."

Oh dear. Cordelia was thoroughly disgusted. Her nose wrinkled at just the thought of parties and wine. Parties were crowded almost all the time and were really more effort than they should have been. Wine was probably even worse. Alcohol, especially something made for humans that she couldn’t very well digest, was simply revolting. She would never understand how humans could eat or drink that sort of stuff when the smell alone was enough to nauseate her. “You have a disgusting taste in what you find ‘enjoyable’, that’s for sure… ugh…” She shook her head to shake away the vile ideas. Whatever happened to killing people and being horrible and mean for fun?! Now that was something healthy and there were rarely consequences. “You should try something else… like, I don’t know, killing people.” She lifted her left hand rubbed her forehead before pinching the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t her job to dictate how other people led their lives, but really, what was this gal’s problem?

She shook her head, and sighed. "As you get older, the love of those things just... dies, and you don't really get any enjoyment out of it. At least, not simple Kine, that are so simple to kill. No, the challenges I seek now are those that are powerful, those that put up a fight when I try to kill them."

She looked up and smiled. "But of course, there is a certain problem I am having with that. Of course," she said, looking over at Cordelia, "it's not like I'm going to tell you waht that problem is. I still haven't decided if you are an enemy or not." Her smile turned slightly darker, and she turned her head slightly.

(((OOC: >.< Short. Sorry.)))

"As you get older, the love of those things just... dies, and you don't really get any enjoyment out of it…”

A look of shock came over her face immediately. Cordelia stared at Sherise, her jaw hanging open and her eyebrows knit. The love for killing fading away? She couldn’t imagine it. Her first kill had been difficult, but she had become accustomed to it and had grown to love it. It relieved anger and stress, not to mention it raised ones confidence in how powerful and strong and absolutely amazing they were. “You’re crazy,” she said simply. “I don’t know what your problem is but you are seriously crazy.” She shook her head. She should have just left then, but she didn’t feel like it. This table was just as much hers now as it was Sherise’s.

"it's not like I'm going to tell you waht that problem is. I still haven't decided if you are an enemy or not."

She absolutely hated secrets! She hated not knowing everything there was to know! Cordelia huffed and looked away, biting the inside of her lip. She was a bit frustrated with this lady, that was for sure. Who the heck did she think she was? Just because she was an old hag didn’t mean she got to break off in the middle of statements and challenge people as to whether they were friends or foes. “Classify me as you will,” she shot in return, her head snapping back to look at Sherise. “I can either be the best friend you ever had or the worst enemy, and it doesn’t really matter to me what you do with that offer because in the end it will be my decision. I have connections and can do whatever I please with them. Nevertheless, it’s completely uncalled for of you to stop in the middle of a sentence. You’re… how old did you say you were? Bah, it doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that you’re ancient and you still don’t know how to have a conversation. I suggest learning, because it’s about damned time you did.” Her eyes narrowed and she folded her ankles under the table, feeling rather accomplished. That had probably been the most venomous thing she had said the whole evening and she was quite proud of herself.

Sherise's eyebrows went up. "Hmm. You, who have done nothing but insult me since you have sat down, have the nerve to lecture ME on conversation skills? I'd say that's a bit hypocritical of you, dear." She laughed, silvery laughter that sounded like a gentle rain.

"Now then. I do believe we have gotten this off on the wrong foot, now haven't we?" she said. "Let's start back at the beginning.

"I'm Sherise Moonglow. What brings you to the Dancer's Nest this evening, little one?" she said softly. She seriously wanted to try this conversation again, since it had gone completely wrong from the way she wanted it to go.

Cordelia was a bit confused by the fact that she was laughing… what was there to laugh about? She shook her head, not even going to try and think up a legitimate reason. Everyone in the world was crazy, just on different levels. So far, Manic had been the craziest, and this one here was probably in the middle of the list somewhere. “Well, at least when I have something to say I finish it so I don’t leave other people hanging in anticipation.” She simply shrugged. It was true, for the most part, but so what if it was just a tiny little lie? It didn’t matter.

The most insane thing Sherise had said that evening was probably that they should start over. Her eyebrows went up in suspicion that something terribly wrong was happening here. This woman was probably the most patient person she had ever met. By now in a conversation, most people had given up trying to be nice to Cordelia had had either ignored her or shot the insults right back. If she was so old, shouldn’t she have leanred not to bother with people like her? To be quite honest, she was so surprised that she didn’t even know what to do. She had gained just a tiny bit of respect for Sherise because of her actions, but even so, the amount of kindness almost made her feel sick to her stomach.

“Don’t call me ‘little one’, my name is Cordelia Brooks and I expect to be called that…” she muttered, her tone going down a little bit because she was still confused. “I came simply for the sake of coming, though I may not come again because of the flutes. But that matters little, because I have a more important question. Why in the world are you being so nice to me?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sherise, as if trying to look right through her and read whether what she was about to say would be a lie or not. It just didn’t add up at all.

She smiled, and leaned forward over the table, her eyes locking with Delia's. "Because. I find that sometimes, when you're nice to someone, you can call in a favor later. Whereas if you're rude, they'll never be willing to do anything for you." She leaned back. "A pleasure to meet you, Cordelia Brooks.

"You needn't avoid this place because of the flutes. They don't often have the flutes. They usually have some form of dramatization or such on the stage. Tonight, I guess, was a slow night. And kindness is a little something you could use. After all," she said, leaning back comfortably. "Someone who is as vindictive as you has usually seen very little kindness."

A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth when Sherise explained kindness being a tool to gain favors. At least she had a reason other than wanting to make the world filled with people who skip around and dance and spew lollipops and sweetness with their words. In a way, her method of using kindness was one that gave her a reason to use people. The frown curled upward just a little bit in a tiny smirk and she almost laughed. This woman was an odd one, but she kind of liked it. It was a different kind of evil; a sneakier, less blatant kind of evil. It was almost refreshing… but slightly unnerving as well.

When told that she didn’t have to avoid the place because of the flutes, Cordelia merely snorted in reply and shook her head. “Yes, I do. Do you think I want to lose my ability to hear and have blood dripping out of my ears?” It was a rhetorical question, but it would be interesting to see if Sherise would want to answer that. The last time Cordelia had met a flutist, she had wound up breaking their instrument which got her into a fight with them. People were so touchy about their screechy little racket makers, and if she ever came back here and there were flutes playing, she would probably get herself right back into that situation, which she obviously didn’t want.

"Someone who is as vindictive as you has usually seen very little kindness."

Her eye twitched when confronted with such an assumption. That was so far from the truth that Cordelia didn’t even want to bother correcting her, but it was necessary. “I’ve seen enough kindness in my life to know that nothing good can come from it,” she said evenly, staring right at Sherise with no emotion evident on her face. “I’ve seen enough to know that it’s the good people that get hurt.” She glanced away for a moment, biting the inside of her lip in simple frustration. After a short silence, her eyes returned to the woman across from her without wavering and a single, quiet chuckle emitted from her throat. “You speak of giving kindness in return for favors… so what on earth is it that you want from me, hmm? Your efforts are more or less worthless.” There was little she could give to anyone, and she rarely offered her alliance to anyone who she didn’t know or care about. Manic was the only exception from this, considering he had forced her into a contract, but aside from him the only people that got any favors from her were people she loved. Who did this chick think she was that all she had to do was be nice and already she had a door open to get whatever she wanted?

Sherise smiled. "Actually, the flutes aren't that much of an entertainer. People tend to agree with you, at least here in the Nest," she said softly, gesturing at the stage. Even now, actors were getting up preparing to put on a show.

"Usually it's strings or plays that are on the stage. The flutes aren't so common. Don't know why that is, but they're not."

She shrugged, and took another sip of her drink, and then grinned. "Who said I wanted anything from you? No, what I want in this is to find someone to give me an opinion." She paused here, and shook her head. "But if you don't wish to give me that opinion, then... well, I suppose I should just go then," she said, and stood, her cloak moving back around her of its own accord.

Cordelia simply ignored what Sherise said about the instruments. She had already said all she needed to say and if the other, older woman felt the need to keep talking about it, then so be it. She had no intentions of dragging that out, though, so she merely shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever,” she said smoothly, closing her eyes and allowing a soft sigh to pass through her nostrils.

Her eyes flicked open when something about an opinion was mentioned. With the cold, calculating eyes of a vulture, Cordelia watched as she stood up. An opinion…? Now there was something interesting. The woman always gave her opinion, regardless of whether people wanted it or not. She always had something to say. Shouldn’t Sherise have figured that out by now, what with her rude demeanor and blunt way of speaking? Either way, it was a curious matter as to why she would want her opinion, but the idea of actually being asked to speak for once delighted her so much that she couldn’t refuse.

“Take a seat, no one gave you permission to leave,” she said coolly, turning to look at the other female. “What do you need an opinion on, hmm? I can probably help, unless it’s something about your nails or hair or makeup. I can’t help with that because frankly it holds no interest to me… of course, that’s saying that whatever else you say might interest me, which isn’t true.” She paused for a moment and tapped her index finger against her chin. “Just speak. If I feel like getting involved I will and if I don’t, then you’re dismissed. But like I’ve already said, don’t leave me hanging in a conversation. It’s rude.” She smirked somewhat and waited.

Sherise's face twisted into a rather sadistic smirk, and there was a dark light that appeared in her eyes as she settled herself back into the chair, her fangs bared slightly as she seemed to look past the walls around them.

"Well, some time ago, a young man decided to seduce me to bed. Or rather, THOUGHT he was seducing me to bed," she said with a smirk. "Needless to say, I was ALLOWING him to, given how hungry I was."

She smiled. "Before you get all cranky, I'll tell you the point of this. Needless to say, we wound up in bed. But after he passed out, I had... a little nibble, and fell asleep myself."

She shook her head, a laugh the only sign of the humor she found in the situation. "Apparently, when he woke up, my fangs were out. So he ran. I've been trying to decide how to... deal with... his cowardice and... inconsistency... but I have a hard time deciding how to do so and make a LASTING impression."

She smiled. "That's how I hope you can help me. I need ideas. I already have a FEW," she said, her hand patting the now visible handle of a long blade just to the left of her head. It had been hidden beneath the hood when she had pushed it back, but her motions had moved the hood.

Cordelia rolled her eyes when Sherise mentioned the clearly sexual escapade. She was a grown woman and knew how to be mature about those sorts of things, but really, she wasn’t there to chat about it. If Sherise didn’t change the subject in about five seconds, she was going to have to leave. Cordelia was not the kind of woman to get involved in romantic issues. She sighed, clearly agitated, and raised both of her eyebrows when Sherise told her there was actually a point to her knowing this. Impatiently, her fingers began to tap against the table, just wanting her to get to the point as soon as possible.

Her eyebrows knit until Sherise mentioned she wanted to make a lasting impression. At that point, her eyebrows lifted once more and the corners of her mouth pulled into a grin. Oh, she was always up for revenge. Bloodshed was, perhaps, once of the most intoxicating things in this world. As Sherise mentioned that she needed ideas, Cordelia laughed lowly, her own fangs now revealed paired with an evil glint in her eye.

“Now I could lecture you about how reckless it was to do that… but hurting someone is so much more appealing, so I’ll go straight to that.” She laced her fingers together and sucked in a deep breath, calming herself just a tiny bit. “Poison… multiple stabbings… burning… and if he was so afraid of your fangs, rip him apart with them! Just split his skin open and laugh at him as the blood pours down and out of his veins… and of course, mutilate him. Bring him to the brink of death, to the point where he’s begging to be killed, and let him live knowing what a coward he is. Now come on, you couldn’t have thought of that by yourself?” She laughed again, not looking away from Sherise while she waited for a reaction.

Sherise smiled, the gleam in her eyes matching that in Delia's. "You know, I had thought of all those things," she said softly, her own fangs sliding down slightly, and she laughed airily. "But I wanted to see if someone else in this world agreed with me. Others have counseled me to just let it go, to let him live. But you... Something about you told me you were different from the very beginning," she said quietly.

"That you would suggest some of the very things that I was thinking of doing myself, just says that we are more alike than anyone would want to believe." She smiled, and took another sip of the bloodwine. "And you think remarkably like me. I want him to live, I want him to have to bear the fact that he is a coward. Death is too good of a punishment for him. One that he doesn't deserve," she said. As she spoke, her voice lowered, going dark and sinister the more into the conversation she got.

She looked up, and smiled. "It's nice to know there's another mind like mine out there in this world." She stood, her cape flowing slightly, and almost sinisterly as she did so. She shifted her shoulders, the pommel disappearing behind her head, where she pulled the hood back over it. "And as I have tasted of his blood, there is nowhere he can hide that I cannot find him." She smiled, and bowed slightly. "Until next we meet, little sister," she said, and breezed out the door, well on her way to exacting the very revenge she desired on Theron.

Any and all creatures of the night, be they bat, rat, raven, or cat, fled before her footsteps. The very air seemed to cry out, WARE! Death is in the air, and it stalks you, Theron.

Cordelia listened without much interest as Sherise mentioned that she had known she would be different from the start. How couldn’t she have known? She wasn’t like all the other wimps that were afraid of killing. When she wanted someone dead, they wound up dead – at least, most of the time. There were a few people that escaped her grasps sometimes, but that was irrelevant. They’d all get what was coming to them eventually.

"That you would suggest some of the very things that I was thinking of doing myself, just says that we are more alike than anyone would want to believe."

“Don’t get comfortable. We aren’t that similar.” Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. She hardly saw herself in this woman… they were violent, sure, but that meant nothing. Manic and Fehade were violent too, and they had nothing in common. They were nothing alike and never would be. Sherise was clearly becoming too comfortable to her presence… she would have to do something to fix that.

"Until next we meet, little sister."

Her jaw dropped and she whirled around in her seat, watching as Sherise waltzed out of the building. Who did she think she was calling sister?! They weren’t related! They might have been the same race, but they weren’t related. Closing her mouth, her jaw then clenched, an enraged look coming into her eyes. “I thought I told you not to get comfortable…” she grumbled, although Sherise had already left. She glanced around before grabbing her cloak, deciding it would be best to leave now. She had no reason to stay, and after being given such an endearing name, she had to let off some steam. Cordelia left the Dancer’s Nest, not looking back and slamming the door behind her.