Sebastian Ellington

He knew near instantly when his own scent had reached his singular vampiric friend, after all, it was quite the same moment in which his own instincts so clawed at him. Though the pair hardly shared the same victims, there was a part of the man that was particularly...edgy, given his own state of hunger. Often enough, Sebastian kept himself well-fed, to the point where such instincts tended to stay largely at bay and yet, now, he was almost desperate. The night had been remarkably unsuccessful and the hour was far later then he liked. His own navy eyes lingered upon that warlock at Arlo's side, altogether aware of that tense touch to the man's frame. It would be a fleeting thing, he was sure, under the control of his own affinities and yet, Sebastian kept those very abilities at bay, at least until he knew Arlo's own claim on the fellow. Frankly, witches were his least favorite flavor and yet, he knew well he was not in a position to be particularly choosey. Slowly, his gaze shifted from the man to offer Arlo a brief introduction, that warm simper upon his friend's features prompted a small one upon the Englishman's own in return. "It's just me." He offered Arlo in a vague reassurance, that warm chuckle on his lips all the same.

That hunger within him, however, hardly saw his attention linger long upon his friend. Rather, Sebastian was all too keen to provide the warlock with his hand. That confidence Killian so put forth into that hand shake was hardly ignored and yet, nor was it enough to terribly disway the vampire either. After all, a warlock could hardly match his kind in a show of strength, and as for authority? Well, despite being decidedly bold, the vampire cared little for dominance. He was perhaps equally willing and capable of playing whatever role was required of him for that meal that so ran through the Irishman's veins. If Killian so wished to feel in control of that situation, he could certainly arrange such a guise. His own abilities were all too eager to jump into action and yet, before Sebastian was even afforded a chance to make a move, Arlo's voice cut through his thoughts, the vampire quite determined to pull him aside. His lips pressed together in a small display of dissatisfaction and yet, he hardly fought his companion in the slightest, instead letting himself be led off to the side and away from that rather unlucky fellow.

That hint of incredulousness within Arlo's voice prompted a soft sigh from the vampire, his gaze briefly fluttered back towards Killian. Although he understood Arlo's frustration at his sudden arrival and clear attempt to do exactly what the vampire had promised wouldn't happen, it was that underlying information that the pair had just met that he so clung to. "You're right." He muttered after a moment. "I'm fucking starving Arlo, do you have any idea how hard it's been tonight to find someone who doesn't immediately recognize me?" His blue eyes turned back towards his companion with a hint of near annoyance at just how difficult those magazine publications had so made his efforts to hunt of late, much less to leave the mansion to begin with. Quite frankly, Sebastian was still getting used to that fame that had been quite near overwhelming of late. He was hardly surprised that Arlo had been using the poor Irishman as mere bait for another vampire and yet -- he could hardly deny that it succeeded. After all, he had certainly fallen for it. At the very least, there was one thing the pair could agree on. It was fucking cold.

That inquiry of finding someone or something caused his features to contort in consideration. "He's going to pass out at this rate." He commented, his hands shoved in his pockets. If Sebastian intended to feed Arlo on top of himself, they were going to have to drain the Irishman far more than he often preferred. God, he was hungry. The sheer thought of that blood was enough to cause that flutter of anticipation within him. Sebastian offered Killian a warm simper as they joined the man. "They can get a bit....fussy." He commented with a small shrug, easily going along with Arlo's excuse. His own affinity finally reached out to the poor Irishman, the vampire fully intended to coax that affinity of lust to life. "It's been awhile since I've heard an Irish accent. There's not many of us Europeans here." He commented, clearly attempting to make that small talk while Arlo so led them closer towards the shadows he fully intended to take advantage of. He shifted closer towards Killian with each step, till their bodies were but mere inches from one another. His gaze lingered upon the man beside him, his teeth but briefly gazed his bottom lip in a fashion that had far more to do with the thoughts of those kisses he fully intended to steal than that persistent need for blood. For the next hour, he fully intended to woo the Warlock and reap every one of those glorious rewards. The game was on.

tell you pretty lies
look you in the face & tell you that
I love you
even if it's fake