There was something entirely calming about that quaint little shop, not that it made much a difference to a starving vampire with an emotional crisis. Maybe it was the powder blue walls and gentle glow that gave the place some charming homey comfort. It might have needed upgrading but for a vampire with older tastes it seemed appealing, even down the creaky old floor boards. Many people would call it charming, but all Petra can do is focus on the delicious mortal with that teasing blood, her heartbeat racing within her chest as she reacted to Sebastian's magnetizing presence. The shop keeper seemed to hang off every word, like she was just as starving as Petra herself, only she was not parched for blood, but of those carnal sins of flesh. How terribly mundane of her, she could scent that interest, no doubt in the same way the other vampire in the room did. The shopkeeper was simply entranced by the man before her, her eyes never strayed from the alluring incubus. Petra herself could only peer on with inspired awe. Observing Sebastian's powers at work with such impressive ease, far gentler and more persuasive than the illusionist's sensory assaulting affinities.


Sebastian attempts to show her a new way of hunting and despite clinging to every word as though they are her only salvation. No restraining he softly explains, shaking his head and that very thought brought a thorough, deeply stitched frown to her once beautiful and radiant features. How would she keep her from struggling if she could not restrain? He explains that terribly confusing notion of... choice. Choice, like the choosing she was so consistently robbed from in life? How peculiar a notion, she attempts to mull over, to taste and contemplate those possibilities. If only her mind were not such a muddled mess, that starvation hardly made anything as crystal clear as they once were. But she tries, to understand, to make that connection. How many people had she robbed of their own choices? Those illusions she masterfully wields had made others see only what she wished for them to see. "Very well.." A near breathy compliance was issued, having no choice but to learn, to accept. Why would this woman choose to offer her blood? It made no sense at all and yet she attempts to comply to those very stipulations Sebastian offered her.

Concentration did not come effortlessly, but she attempts to weave through the dense cobwebs of her own mind, using that last reserve of energy to stitch together a rather tranquil scene. How she could only hope it was believable enough. The very fabric of reality seemed to melt away, like that store no longer existed, fusing and giving way to those ancient worn cobblestone streets of Paris. She tries so desperately to pull a vision of her own memory to create a feeling of romance and serenity. A reminiscence of a beautiful night embracing night, how Petra desperately tries not to focus on the nefarious details of that very night she plucked from her memory. Desperately trying not to recall that carnage, the terror of those she had caught within her sticky web. An almost solemn expression seems to take over the illusionist's face, careful, she had to be so careful not to give into those disagreeable thoughts, or lest it all be for nothing. She could not afford her meal to be terrified when she could restrain her.

Sebastian easily began to sell those very visions to the woman, luring her with his presence, his powers near intoxicating to the shopkeeper. Sebastian seems to easily offer that timid little mortal.. more as if her life truly mattered, that her happiness was attainable. He inquires if Petra would show her more, in exchange for a small token, a gift that lay just beneath the surface of skin. "I can. I can show you what your heart desires most." How intently Petra stared at that petite creature, her next meal and she can barely control herself. There was some faint recognition within her, understanding what Sebastian is attempting to display.

Easily the incubus uses that charming convincing thrall to convince her. It was mesmerizing the level of care he took with this human, the way he coaxes her just so, just how gentle he was with that frail little human being as if she were something to be cherished rather than mere food. Even though the shopkeeper seems to hesitate, Sebastian soothes those wrinkles of worry like it were no problem at all. Any hesitation turns into a conceding compliance, giving that consent to be served up like a hot meal to a starving person. Petra could hardly help the way she licks those parched pale lips, anticipation unfurling within her like its own entity. That hunger only stimulated further as his own lips press against the woman's inner wrist in that nearly sensual manner that even Petra could not ignore. That ashen haired vampire found it so desperately hard to control her own potent urges in that moment! That vicious hunger that very innocent action incites, twisting and turning within her hallowed gut. What she would give just to taste that blood again, to give into that need that fuels her as a vampire. A creature of the night unable to feed was no better than a death sentence.

She parted her lips, hesitatingly at first as though she were, fearful. Worry echoed with her at what she was capable of. It was near paralyzing then. Those teal eyes seem to peer at that vein through the other woman's near translucent skin, practically hearing that blood flow in a rush beneath that surface. Petra inhaled her scent, suddenly she was the only thing she was aware of. She could barely keep her eyes off of that dainty little morsel, not daring to blink with predatory fixation before she took that wrist, peering where Sebastian had lay a kiss. Slowly, almost all together brokenly she presses her own lips to where her companion had pressed his own, drawing in that scent of the tantalizing blood that lay beneath for the taking. "Mmm" She hummed to herself, brushing her lips across that surface of smooth velvet skin. In an almost all to quick fashion she bared her fangs, plunging them deep into that woman's veins. What a familiar feeling, yet so foreign. It was that first drop of pure blood that nearly leaves her in a frenzy. This was.... Perfection.

Those illusions appeared to come to life, blooming with increasingly more vibrant clarity as they shift from scene to scene, lastly ending up in a beautiful vineyard, those grapes looked so ripe and plump! So much like the woman she fed from That blood seemed to burn as it flooded that parched woman's veins, enriching and empowering her by the second. How greedily she consumed that vital liquid she had been denied for so very long, for too long. Petra hardly wasted a drop, each pull and mouthful growing more and more confident. A sigh of relief escaped her, those long lashes fluttering closed, getting lost to the sensations that assault her. She holds, no cradles that shopkeeper's dainty wrist.. tighter and tighter with each mouthful of renewed strength floods her. How greedily she draws that renewing plasma into her, how that near scalding blood seems to promote that saliva in turn. How she didn't want that blood to run dry and yet she almost craves to take it all, like some sick addiction she finds near impossible to control. Between Sebastian's powers and that overpowering blood, there was simply no stopping her now.

petra ambrose