How that very curiosity and perhaps suspicion assaults the she-devil in those moments as she observed the two most unlikely men fraternizing. How the crowd melts away as she moves through the throng of people. As though they could feel that steady thrum of her affinity weaving through the steady pulsing of that music. How very aware she was of those eyes upon her, those gazes quickly tumbling away when her eyes scan that crowd as if by habit. However, that predatory focus seemed to linger on no one in particular for long except for that peculiar scene at the bar. She could feel Darcy's presence form trailing closely behind like her menacing shadow, she pauses near abruptly for but a moment to admit those plaguing thoughts. That sound of amusement escapes him then before adding those very thoughts. It afforded Darcy a lingering look as if considering just that. That mention of Tobias brought a subtle twitch of her lips. That source of perpetual weakness within her precious pet, one she happily exploited.

"Pity.. It would have far more interesting if they were." Those opium laced words nearly sigh in nonchalance, raising an idle hand to gesture toward the two none to subtly.

Judging by how he acts alone, she wouldn't be surprised if Cobain was a virgin, he hardly showed any interest in anything, let alone sex. His hormones must be raging, no true outlet other than those wild goose chases the wicked temptress sends him on. No wonder why the boy seemed a little.. off. He had over a century of build up to contend with. "Perhaps we need to change that.." She mutters obscurely, content to meddle in those affairs that were hardly her own, for in her mind there were boundaries when it came to what was hers. "Lorelai?" That singular name said everything it needed to, that gleaming within her apathetic gaze was unmistakable. That particular woman certainly had her useful skillsets, she was after all, a succubus. Perhaps she could bring Cobain to life, although she would certainly have her challenge set out before her. She was good... but was she that good? Those schemes began to churn within her mind, which never usually bode well for those trapped within them.

Closing that final distance then, that party between progeny and pet was crashed. Darcy slapped Cobain at the back of the head as he walked by, the boy doing nothing but seething in his own anger at that very action. Darcy then chose his spot settling next to Tetradore, like a shadow looming over him. The action almost seemed like a warning in itself, exerting his dominance over her panther any moment he could obtain a higher ground. How uncomfortable her cat seemed even though he tried to conceal it behind that careful mask he wore. He could hide these things from the world at large but none of it sauntered by her, how quick she was to sink those claws into that little morsel. What she chooses to do with it, well that was yet to be seen. However, her attention vacillates as Darcy spoke to the two boys, neither of them thrilled of their presence. They should know better. Would it kill them to look alive? How they lacked such manners, were they trying to bait her? They didn't even greet her in the way that she was rightfully owed, she would remember this moment. Perhaps they both needed yet another reminder of how the hellish queen should be treated. How that thought alone has her internally trilling.

"These boys should learn a thing from a real man." She allows that nonchalant compliment to drop from her lips as she plucked that promptly made drink from his offered fingertips, ever the chivalrous act. At least he knew how she should be treated. Perhaps he should later give them a lesson. She spoke as though Tetradore and Cobain were not even there to hear her make such a declaration. How easy it would be to ruffle those feathers of theirs, the true question was... Who would break façade first? With a smooth act, she toys with that glass with a caress of her slender finger before seamlessly drawing that drink to her lips. The blend of flavours worked, she supposed, but perhaps she liked it more for the colour rather than the taste alone. She was ever the vain creature after all.

Darcy's attention seemed to shift toward Tetradore then, those violent eyes settling upon the panther that clearly looked like he would rather be anywhere else other than here. Yet, it was Cobain that ensnares all of her attentiveness. When was the last she saw him lurking about? She hardly remembers.

Tetradore seemed quiet, like the little mouse she toyed with betwixt her claws. It was a pity he wasn't truly in the mood play, tormenting that man in her office seemed to take a toll upon him. His blatantly irritation laced within his words as he snapped at Darcy whom seemed all too content to continually prod that cornered panther. That flitting thought at how amusing it would be to watch the two of them simply go at it.

Darcy then posed the question about if they were fucking. Neither of them seemed to speak up them. The cat apparently had their tongues. A slight rise and fall of her exposed shoulders. "They truly cannot look any more suited for one another. So...cranky." Her eyes linger upon Tetradore, who seemed content to get lost in own drink as though it could offer him salvation. It was a voice that belongs to none other than Cobain molests her, that proposition certainly did not go unnoticed. Since when did her progeny care whom she slept with, the boy was nothing more than a little defective in this area. He would forever seem like that little lost boy she took in. However, it still prompts a certain amusement. The idea it sparks sets off within her mind like grenades going on within her mind in a simultaneous fashion.

"Are you jealous?" That truly nefarious gleam crossed her queenly features. Her eyes emotionless and unreadable then. "Someone younger like you, fledgling?" Oh, how she knowingly goads him, she slides toward her progeny then with that iconic calculated yet purposeful sinuous movement. She paid no heed to his personal space as she suddenly, turns to sit upon Cobain's lap like he were nothing more than a chair now. Her chair to sit upon. He was a little.... boney, but she supposed she could make it work. She shifted in her newfound seat, deliberately wiggling and grinding her behind into him, as if getting comfortable with her newfound perch and perhaps knowingly to further make her point with striking clarity.

"Humour me... My little virgin boy, what would you do with me if I allowed you a chance, hm?" That silken voice reaches for her ruby eyed boy, she turns her head just so those pale blue eyes could capture the very expression on his innocent face. How very certain she was that he could not handle her, let alone actually satisfy her. How that boy would simply not survive. The midnight haired temptress was sure of it. His waning mental state, was rather fragile. Perhaps it would be the final blow to leave him shattered completely, his mind left to nothing but a spray of fractured pieces on the ground to walk upon like a welcome mat. There was a taste of a thought that then enters her mind, perhaps he would weep ... or better yet.. Maybe he would beg. How she loved it when they begged.

Cobain had probably never even grown into himself yet, admittedly, she never checked. After all, he would forever be a boy trapped in that youthful form, never to reach his prime. He would always be destined to be the gangly teenage child.

What a cruel game she plays, before that calculate gaze shifts to her lover, wondering if actions had garnered his attention, well aware of that venomous temper that lurked just beneath that surface. Just how far could she get him to come undone? It would seem even he could not be spared from her little games. She draws that drink that just so happened to match the exact red of Cobain's eyes.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on