Just Got Wicked {Tag: Tristan; London}

[Cynthia]

Cynthia walked slowly on the brightly lit sidewalk, enjoying the shadows the tree branches cast on the ground and the cool breeze against her long, honey-and-chocolate strands. Her hair hadn't been able to pick a colour this summer, taking highlights and lowlights both when she stayed outside for too long. She could make it look however she wanted, so it really didn't matter either way, but she was always a little smug when she saw her reflection. It was such a pleasure to be naturally alluring.

She shrugged a few books from one arm to the next and looked down at the address she'd been given. She couldn't even really remember how she'd gotten conned into this -- oh, that's right. She'd volunteered. She knew Tristan was cutting class, and she was damned sick of him sitting behind her and giving her attitude during their Physics class. So. She decided to 'drop by home' in the middle of the day under the illusion of bring the sicko some school work. She planned to waste him while the neighborhood sat quietly unaware, so when she tapped on the door politely (just in case), she put on her best innocent smile, with those full pouty lips that a girl of her apparent age should not yet possess... Ah, they don't make 'em quite like they used to.

[London DeMortei]

London didn't know it, but his son was currently off hiding out somewhere instead of at school, though he'd eventually get a report card or a call home telling him that Tristan's attendance sucked.  That would be a fun conversation. 

Usually, he wasn't home so early, but he'd gotten lucky that day and stopped at home without letting Carmine or Tristan know he'd be there.  He wanted to see when each of them got back home each night, considering he was pretty certain that Carmine lied to him about when Tristan came home.  So long as the boy arrived before London, he couldn't prove it, but he'd find out this time.

He was also going to be finding out a bit more, from the looks of what was on the other side of that door.  His first thought was that this girl had the wrong house, since he couldn't see her being interested in Tristan, but he answered the door with a friendly smile nevertheless.  "Can I help you?" he asked, taking in her beauty for one so young, and then noticing the books.  Tristan?  Study?  Yeah, right.

"Tristan's not home from school yet."

[Cynthia]

She narrowed her eyes a little in feigned confusion, and inhaled only slightly. Jaguar. The loser had inherited the trait from his father. "Neither am I, technically. I got out early for something and I decided I'd bring his things over. He said he was sick... " she trailed off. Ah, well, looks like she wasn't going to get to waylay him today after all. Daddy dearest was here to save the day.

"I guess he's not sick, huh?" she asked.

She spoke carefully, but with the same soft tone she always had. The scent of cat was almost suffocating to her vampire senses, but she'd dampened her aura down so much that they'd never hoped to have picked up on her scent. His father smelled so different than he did, so much... better. Like musk and blankets. Cynthia's eyes flicked away for a moment and she feigned red cheeks as she looked back up to London and locked eyes with him.

"Well, looks like I wasted a whole trip over here," she said, voice just... just a little forlorn. And here lay Cynthia's talent.

[London DeMortei]

She may not have known it, but 'save the day' was a bit of an overstatement where London was concerned.    Hearing that this pretty young girl had come over to bring his brat of a son his schoolwork because Tristan was playing sick was NOT what London wanted to hear.  "That boy hasn't been sick a day in his life," he told her, his voice just a little less friendly where his son was concerned.  The boy had to be a complete fool to have pissed this opportunity, with this girl offering to bring his work over.  She was cute, even London couldn't deny that, but far too young for him to really show any interest.  That would be rude, and uncomfortable, for her.

"I'm sorry he lied to you, but don't worry, I'll deal with him when he gets home.  You're welcome to wait if you want to tell him off yourself, or I could drive you home," he offered, more than willing to give her the option.  She'd done something kind for Tristan, and the idiot boy had completely ruined it.

[Cynthia]

The offer of the man to allow her to tell him off piqued her interest, striking that malevolent chord in her and it caused a small laugh to escape her glossy lips. Oh, but how much was she allowed to damage? Surely he wouldn't have appreciated a vampire splattering his son across the living room in the manner that Cynthia wanted to right now. She could just kick something she was so irritated. She'd finally decided to waste that annoying boy who refused to respond in kind with the rest of the grade, and now.... She glanced back up at London. My, but he is handsome.. Nothing like his son. I'd even want to say he was adopted, but they just share too much of the same colouring. Oh well.

"Sure, I guess I can stay. If you don't mind, that is," she added, batting her lashes at London in a manner that was enticing and yet completely innocent at the same time. She smiled again, only this time there was... something else behind it. Something bad. Something... Cynthia.

[London DeMortei]

Neither of them knew it, but both were harboring rather vicious thoughts were Tristan was concerned, and London actually would have let Cynthia spatter Tristan across the room, so long as she didn't kill him.  If he died, it would only complicate things for London, and he wasn't interested in more complications than he had to have.  Besides, he hadn't decided what he intended to do about his son.  Sending him to the meanest hunter in the Guilds for training could have been a decent idea for straightening him out.

"Of course I don't mind, my dear.  I wouldn't have offered," he told her pleasantly, opening the door wider for her to enter.  There was just something about her that made him like her almost instantly, though it was nothing terribly extreme.  Just...something wholesome, yet absolutely not.  He liked that tiny little glimpse of something else, and would have liked to see more of it.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

[Cynthia]

She paused a moment, watching the cat's movements carefully, dilligently. She was studying London now, Tristan buzzing in the back of her head for the moment. She decided within the split second she'd done this that she would go in. She could wipe the whole block out if she wanted to, what was one little irritating cat? As she stepped inside the doorway, she brushed London gently, and looked up in the corner of her eye at him, head so slightly turned and lips so slightly curled that it could have been his imagination... but no, she'd done it on purpose.

"I'd love some water," she said sweetly, turning fully as though the previous incident hadn't happened at all. As though Cynthia were just a normal 17 year old girl here to visit his bastard of a son. She tossed her head, removing blonde waves from her cheeks where they'd begun to bother her, and put her hands behind her back, clasped, standing casually like she was in her own home.

Cynthia did not allow others to cause her discomfort. She made everything she touched her own, and it showed.

[London DeMortei]

London, for all the things he might have been, wasn't an idiot.  He thought for an instant that he might have been imagining that she's brushed against him on accident, but he was quick and caught her brief peripheral glance at him.  He was...intrigued.  This girl didn't behave like any of the other children his son's age that he'd met. 

"So, what class do you have with Tristan that he's cutting?  Or has he been skipping all of them?" he asked, VERY interested in the answer, as he got a glass of water for her.  "I have to say, I'm not surprised he's cutting class, just that he was stupid enough to get caught."

Really, Tristan was such a disappointment.

[Cynthia]

Cynthia accepted the water, fingertips brushing London's as she took it from him. She smiled a little as she took a long drink, and then gestured to a chair. "May I sit?" she asked. When she got permission, which she knew she would, she sank back into it, scenting out the fact that this had to be the chair he always sat in. There was a very human smell from the couch, and that, she presumed, was where the wife usually dwelled. It must not've been a very joyous marriage if they sat so far away. Better for her, though. Getting on his father's good side might piss Tristan off and be more revenge than kicking the living shit out of him. Especially since his father seemed to have an underlying dark streak that was right up her alley.

"He's usually in and out of class. I hate to be a snitch, but I guess now that the cat's out of the bag, I may as well be honest," she purred, wondering how he would take her little idiom. "I told him I'd bring his work by if he was sick, and he said it wouldn't be necessary. He's not very taken with me - actually... he's sort of mean to me. But I figured maybe it would be a nice gesture. Guess it didn't work out in my favour."

She pouted a little. She made it come off like she was interested in Tristan for a moment, and she looked up at London. "Oh, well. Can't win them all, can I?" She laughed, the melodic sound something only a vampire could achieve.

[London DeMortei]

He returned her smile as she took the glass from him, certainly noticing when her fingers brushed his, and the thought rose in his mind that she appeared to be flirting, rather skillfully, with him.  How amusing, and delightful, for his ego.  He did like attention, even if he didn't go out of his way for it.  It pleased him nonetheless.

Thus, the chair that neither Carmine or Tristan were allowed to sit in, was allowed for her.  Just this once, he could make an exception.  Besides, she was giving him such delightful information.  How cute, she even made a cat joke, though he was willing to bet that she didn't realize.  He didn't think Tristan would have told her, and so he smirked a bit at it, but didn't mention it.  "There's no need to waste nice gestures on Tristan.  He wouldn't know how to return them if his life depended on it."

What he didn't know was that his son's life almost had.

"What's your name, my dear?  You can call me London, no need for formalities.  We can be friends, and then you don't have to feel like such a snitch," he offered, smiling in an entirely friendly, charming manner.  He liked informants.

[Cynthia]

"Well, I had thought it might be a peace offering, but obviously he has other designs. I don't know what he'll do to me once he realizes I blew his cover," she said, almost fretfully, as though the boy might actually harm her. She looked away from London shyly, as though to feign that she was afraid he might do something in retaliation. After a low sigh which she did not need, she glanced back to him.

"Cynthia," she said with a smile. This was perfect. "Friends, hm? I could use some new ones. People in high school are so dull. It's like they're forever stuck in one exact frame of thought, they'll never push past it. And the boys, well." She chuckled a little.

"So what do you do, London?" she asked, her voice lilting slightly, changing. She seemed to be slowly making the alternation between teenage girl and 300 year old vampire in her voice, but even London wouldn't get THAT much from it. He would notice she changed, just not... what.

[London DeMortei]

"That's not something you need to worry about, Cynthia.  If he tries to retaliate, just let me know," he informed her, and something about the way he said it should have been a hint of the sort of treatment Tristan had waiting for him, if Cynthia was paying attention.  A normal young girl may not have noticed, but a vampire, especially of her age, would.

"Friends are always a good thing.  I'm a detective in the city, and I have many friends.  They make my job very easy," he told her, not minding taking the chance to brag ever so slightly.  He got away with what he did because he knew how to play people, and he would associate with all types of person, if it would suit his purpose.  With as intriguing as Cynthia was proving to be, she would be another good friend on his list, if only for keeping Tristan under his thumb.

[Tristan DeMortei]

Tristan, unfortunately, was completely unaware of what lay in wait for him.  He'd told that annoying bitch in school to buzz off when she tried to suck up and look perfect by offering to bring his schoolwork home the day before, and skipped that day.  His father would freak when and if he found out, but what did Tristan care?  His father would freak anyway.

Of course, he wasn't planning on Daddy DeMortei finding out RIGHT THEN.  Nor was he prepared to find Cynthia sitting in his living room.  In his father's favorite chair, with the man leaning in the doorway to the living room and looking...amused.  That was a bad look.

He walked in like nothing was wrong, but he'd tensed up already, knowing something bad was about to happen.  His father wouldn't snap with Cynthia there, would he?  No way, that'd be enough to get him arrested, even as a cop himself.  Miss Goody-Two-Shoes would tell, he figured.

He didn't know her very well, obviously.

"Dad, you're home early.  Hi, Cynthia," he said, forcing his voice to sound normal and his expression to look disinterested.  He wasn't giving them anything.

[Cynthia]

Cynthia could have had a million different reactions right then, but she chose just the one she felt was always most appropriate for near every occasion she was faced with. She smiled brightly, fluffing her hair as Tristan walked through the door. "Well hey, stranger," she said in a wanton sort of way that could have made men just kill themselves to hear... Tristan, of course, was totally immune to her, for some fucking reason. She didn't know about his father. She wished she'd come into power already.

"I brought your stuff by, just like I said. I guess if I had known you wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have bothered. Your dad was nice enough to occupy me for a while, though." She rose slowly, the movement more graceful than it should have. Would the shifters have seen? She didn't worry about it. She walked past them and to the foyer, turning at the door.

"I really should be going." It sounded more like, 'Damage done.' She smiled sweetly at Tristan, and when his father wasn't looking, turned it into a shit-eating grin and even flashed him some fang. For London, however, the smile she reserved was all honey and spite. She was sure Tristan saw that one; she meant for him to. Cynthia was known for enticing everyone around her. Tristan had seen her do it to every teacher in the school, and almost every boy. So what gave?

She slipped out the door and counted down slowly, wondering who was going to come out after her - because they always did. She hoped inwardly it was Tristan, so she could put her fist through his skull.

[London DeMortei]

London merely smiled while Cynthia said her piece, watching his son and the girl react to each other.  He and Tristan both knew what was going to happen once Cynthia was gone, so he had no concerns there.  He could be patient. 

Tristan wanted to spaz on her as she 'explained' herself.  Fucking bitch.  He knew she'd done it intentionally, but how had she known his father would be off work early today?  Even he hadn't known, and the idea that God hated him so much that it'd be a coincidence was just obnoxious.  "I'll be right back," he told his father, sprinting out after her.  All his father did was nod, still smiling that triumphant, creepy smile of his.

"It was nice meeting you, Cynthia.  Feel free to stop by anytime," the man told her, fully willing to have her drop by and feed him information about his son.  It made his life so much more interesting.

Tristan paid that smile and the farewell no mind, since what could he do about it?  Wasn't the first time he'd seen it, either.  He made sure he shut the door behind him, at least.  His dad knew he had to show up at home eventually, and the older jaguar was much better at tracking than Tristan was at hiding.  Not to mention, the boy wasn't a coward.  He'd go face his punishment, regardless of how low his father thought he was.  Cynthia was getting a piece of his mind, though.

"You bitch.  I told you to stay OUT of my business.  Tell the fucking teachers if you want, but this is too damn far.  You have NO idea what you've just done!" he hissed at her, keeping his voice at a manageable level.  Shouting would only piss his dad off more, but Tristan himself was pretty pissed.  His eyes were starting to swirl with a little touch of yellow-green.  He didn't take notice, and if he had, he would have hoped the stupid girl wouldn't, either.  He really had no idea who she was.