I Want To Waste All My Love

[harlow-daniels]

prunellelefebvre​:

It was one thing to hear some blanketed praise from Ambrosia’s infamous bouncer when it came to any given routine, but it was another coming from the strawberry-stained lips of Harlow. Felt more special, especially with her attachment to the House of Sanshin and its owner. Prue had been inside the shop a few times because of Evie’s influence, though that connection hadn’t stopped the sourness that somehow established itself in the demeanor of Rimona. The brightness of the vampire that stood before her, however, was a nice break of pace. But those thoughts would hardly ever escape Prue’s mouth, keeping it shut on that matter and the iciness she had felt within the store. “Truly?” her eyes soften as she looks at Harlow, cheeks flushing to a light shade of pink at the compliment, “I’m always concerned whenever I switch things up in my routine.” Because more often than not, the witch was ruled by the emotional tides within herself, “And I think if anyone could convince her, it’s you.”

-

“I am a sucker for ostrich feathers. There’s something so old school glam about them.” She loved the idea of something being pretty just for the sake of being pretty. Dyed feathers in various colors, all light and teasing. Oddly enough, Harlow didn’t think of Prue as such a thing. Pretty, sure, but the witch was more than that. Her relationship with the creatures, witches were tentative.She had met great ones, befriended them, loved a few, they were a mixed bag. But there was something about her fellow blonde. It was something she respected, almost appreciated. She herself spent ample time looking doe-eyed and non threatening as possible, she thinks they might have that in common. Her fingers run through her bangs a little, scattering the layered fringe. “Have you thought about Halloween yet? I’m taking orders if you need something fitted. Could be an angel, make the fans your wings.” 

[harlow-daniels]

vikasokolov​:

Vika pulled back, chin lifting as the other woman gripped at her skin— she could read cues, despite it having been so long since she had walked the earth. There had been a time once, whether it had been right or not, that she was privy to anything she wanted: it was her ability to manipulate desire, to make those who were consumed by it lap from her palm. Instead, she now was empress of fear and it was not something she wished to spark, not from this woman with her flaxen hair and her sleepy dark eyes. “I’d turn the whole world away to do it again,” the manticore promised, and her tone lacked the breathiness that the other’s did, instead it was sharp angles and sloping consonants, the hallmark of her native tongue. It is easy, to relinquish control like this, to allow the vampire to manipulate her features as she grinned, every bit the Cheshire Cat of Wonderland. “I intend to buy all the dances, then.”

-

*

“What brings you to the bay?” She looks over her shoulder at the woman on the velvet couch behind her as she selects a few songs on her phone hooked up to the sound system in the corner. The volume is low, Harlow intends to talk more than work, but the private rooms could be for just that. She’d spent many a night in many different clubs with people who would pay to just have her listen while she sat in something sparkly. She didn’t mind in the slightest then, and she certainly doesn’t mind now. “I came to see my progeny.” Platonic soulmate more like, and to help Emma. After she pours two glasses of champagne from the bar cart in the corner, she steps back over to where Vika is seated and sets them down on the small side table. Standing before the other blonde, she flips her hair over her shoulders before shrugging off her robe and letting it fall off to pool at her elbows. “But I don’t think that is the case for you.” No, she is something else entirely, not a vampire. She reminds her of one though, has the same kind of demeanor.

[harlow-daniels]

emmaxdarling​:

“Do you think I should?” Emma asked, genuinely interested in what the other woman thought about the situation. The things he’d said, what he’d told her about her mother. She didn’t need anything from him, not now. She didn’t want anything from him either. Whatever Emma did want from him in coming here… She hadn’t gotten it, she didn’t even think he could have given it to her. Emma was too old now to hold grudges, least of all against a man who she’d only known for a short blink of her life. The little girl who lit candles for a father who never came back for her had died so long ago, Emma slipped on Harlow’s dress and studied her reflection in the mirror. If she saw that girl now she wasn’t sure she’d even recognize her. “I don’t know if I really gave him much of a chance to start with but… I don’t know if there’s anything left to be said. He knows I’m here, he’ll do what he wants with that information.”

-

Harlow plucks the heels up and steps back towards her fellow blonde to hand her them, her lower lip caught between her teeth in thought. It is all a bit delicate and she doesn’t want to steer Emma wrong and so she tries to put herself in her shoes while watching someone else try on a pair of hers. There’d been many a person she’d wanted to go back and chastise for hurting her. There’d even been some that she had caught up with. And they hadn’t seemed to quite care, they’d just wanted her to stop yelling. That’s the difference, she thinks. Stepping around Emma, she smoothes the straps of the dress a bit where they’ve rolled upon being put on. “Do you think his apology was genuine?” Not just a ‘sorry’ to get her to leave, to get her to stop. “If so, it’s worth pursuing, I think. If he didn’t care then you’ll get nothing out of it.” 

[harlow-daniels]

giovannixamboise​:

Everything about Harlow was perfect, she was like the sun and everything revolved around her. Even Giovanni felt as if he was stuck in her orbit at times, she pulled all the focus in the room and it was true what they said - some soul mates were only friends. She was his. His sire, his partner, and his wife. Harlow and he sparkled in the light, despite being creatures of the dark. “I found him mauling someone in an alley and helped him clean his mess, then introduced him to the backroom at Void.” Giovanni never fed from someone unless they were willing, that was all part of the appeal for him. There was no shortage of vampire fanatics anyways, especially in this century. “We shared a snack and then…” He smiled, “You know.”

-

“Dot, dot, dot?” Her brows raise up and down suggestively, a grin on her nude painted lips. If she did not have a current object of affection, she would simply live vicariously through Gio until she could find one. It wasn’t like she was one to miss a tale of a midnight rendezvous. Or whatever time of day it happened to be, it was just more romantic in the evening, hidden away. It’s how she liked to picture everyone’s missed connections, as romantic as possible. Stepping away from her vanity, she snatches her clutch off of it and nods towards the door to the bedroom.

*

“Oh he is yummy.” The bartender, the short stack behind the bar. Harlow appraises him from behind her martini. It’s pink and pretty and there’s probably too much sugar around the rim but she’s not bothered in the slightest. “It would seem Corinth is most promising.” She tears her gaze from the bar to look at Gio beside her in the little booth they’d secured near the dancefloor. It gave them a good view, made for a perfect crow’s nest, they were pirates looking for potential booty and she figured they weren’t the only ones. “Everyone here is really just like that.”

[harlow-daniels]

ladasokolov​:

“Nobody told you to. This is a simple interview. You impress me and you get to pick whatever schedule you want,” she stated as she flagged down one of the waiters that had come in early. After she asked for them to get her a drink, she looked back at Harlow. A vampire in her establishment? Maybe that would be good for business. People loved that kind of freaky shit, didn’t they? “This is nothing like Ambrosia though. It can be classy if you want it to be, but I promise you that’s not going to get you as many tips as the other girls.”

“I was doing Vegas before this. Stripping on the strip, filling in for showgirls.” The feathers, she’d loved the feathers, there was this kind of glamour to it. Harlow rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands together as she looks to the other woman. “And I’ve been around the states doing the odd club when I find one I like. Before that, in Europe I did it all from burlesque to go go dancing.” Perhaps she’d have to drag Gio back that way, she missed the whole London underground thing. “I’ve seen it all, I’m well seasoned. I figure I’m going to be sticking around, I might as well keep myself busy.” This would be job number three in Corinth and spreading herself too thin wasn’t something she really believed in and yet…”I wouldn’t mind even just filling in a night or two a week.”

[harlow-daniels]

emmaxdarling​:

“I did-” The sigh came out as forced as Emma fidgeted with a brush between her hands. “it’s true what they say: don’t meet your heroes.” Leighton was… Fine, but he was far from what Emma had romanticized as a young girl. She’d always saw their reunion going so differently, and then as years passed she just assumed he was gone but there was a part of her that never really stopped looking for him. Emma didn’t think her meeting with her father had any bearing on how she felt now, but the vampire supposed that the two things could very well be connected. She moved towards the dress in question, setting the brush aside to hold it up against her frame, “I’ll admit I never cared as much about clothes as I should have, but this one is nice.” Emma said, she had always been something of a simple girl but everything Harlow owned, sparkled. Somehow she never saw herself that way.

-

Stepping away from the closet, Harlow stands there looking from the dress to Emma with her arms across her chest, her chin in her palm. They’re different, the two of them, nuanced in their own way. She thinks it’d been a very Betty and Veronica situation when they’d met, it amuses her to no end that they wound up close friends. What was one man who would last a few weeks when she could find a friend who would last centuries? Her lips twitch up into a fond smile and she looks from Emma and steps towards the closet to glance at her large selection of shoes. “It sounds like you need girl time. I can go sparklier.” Her eyes fall on a pair of black heels with rhinestone ankle straps. “Are you going to see him again?” Honestly, Harlow didn’t even know how she’d feel about such a thing happening, confronting her father. But she figured heartache was part of it, the aftermath, he’d been someone she loved and he’d let her down, she could relate to that part.

[harlow-daniels]

eviebordeaux​:

Evie was happy with the team that was starting to pull together over Ambrosia, to those who could grace the stage such as Prue and Harlow, Emma who lent her talent for music and Jamie who guarded the door and chased away trouble. Even regulars such as Gio, Dante and Jerrik had become a delightful occurrence. Rimona was a dear member of the team in the costume department but as Harlow proposed and shared her own craft, she knew there would be room for more than one seamstress to help out. Especially as their designs fell into different categories and styles, she had leaned on Rimona for help but the vampire was operating her own fashion business and shop. “I love it, we can make them sparkle. I will absolutely back the funding and provide whatever supplies you need to make this happen, the shine will completely improve the classic ‘diamond’s are a girls best friend.’ routine.” She was already beginning to plot new dance numbers with the costume designs that Harlow turned over.

“No extra funds necessary, I assure you. I like the place, I like to contribute.” And she couldn’t make every costume that came to mind for herself. The amount of feathers, faux fur, and rhinestones that adorned her closet, some of it was purely for dress up purposes. Sometimes it was simply about making something, not wearing it herself. Harlow brushes the comment aside in favor of sitting forward and resting her elbows on the table, leaning towards the brunette. “About that, I’m thinking you in that signature pink, but it’s a bustier completely covered in pink stones.” It’ll take a bit more than her sewing skills, she’ll have to hand fix each piece to the corset, but she’d figure it out. “We could put everyone else in a more feminine tux, think Playboy bunny but better.”

[celebritynewss]

[harlow-daniels]

vikasokolov​:

Vika’s chin tilted up, but her lips bore the wideness of her expression— the satisfaction that sat in the curve of her mouth as the vampire ate up the distance between them, narrowing it to something smaller and smaller, until she settled down as she looked at the manticore. Instead of a beast, Harlow regarded her as though she was nothing more than a kitten, a plaything that she could hold a strand of yarn in front of for her to bat playfully. Her claws stayed withdrawn, and she closed what little space lived between the two blondes. Her breath was warm against cool skin, and her syllables fluttered between  locks of soft, golden hair as she whispered them. “You put all of them to shame.” Pearls hung from her earlobes and the light gleamed upon them, a taunting sight for a woman whose gaze was Aegean coloured— instead of exercising restraint (a useless practice for someone like her) she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to a temple, before her tongue flicked out, and her mouth closed around the pearl.

It is a lot for a customer and under normal circumstances, Harlow might have done something before waving the bouncer over. In any establishment, no touching is a rule of thumb, it’s about keeping everyone safe, it’s about drawing a line, it’s about professionalism. This isn’t her first rodeo, it won’t be her last, she’s a big girl and can handle herself. Which was why, beautiful Russian woman or not, eyes still ahead at the back of the velvet booth, does she reach to cup the side of her face, almond shaped acrylics digging just lightly into her cheek. It’s a gentle warning, it’s not her establishment, if someone saw, she figured it might be pushing it. “I’ve always wanted to be an angel.” Despite this, her tone is almost dreamy, eyes half lidded. It’s thrilling, the boldness. “You turned all those people away just to call me an angel.” It’s all rather romantic, unfortunate for Evie in terms of losing patrons for the evening, but it’s too much of a win for her personally for her to think too much on that. Her fingers move from cheek to slide just a little blonde locks just in front of her ear and from there she gently tips her head upwards so they’re nearly nose to nose. “There’s private rooms you know, if you buy a dance.”

[harlow-daniels]

jerriklykos​:

The woman was a recent addition to Ambrosia, that much he knew. Unfortunately, for Jerrik, that meant that she would notice that he was a regular in the place. He didn’t particularly mind, but it also meant that he would get questioned. Like right now. “A survey?” He turned his head to her as he waited for his drink. “Seven for today.”

-

“Out of ten? Boo.” Harlow waves down the bartender and rests an elbow on the bartop, her legs crossing together. She liked regulars, they were her bread and butter. The occasional tourist could be fun, but they weren’t all that reliable. Not like she really needed a source of income after over seven hundred years on Earth. It was the relationship she liked, she thought, meeting new people. Gio had written to her about all of the eligible bachelors or beautiful women he’d found in Corinth and now she was determined to find them. This one, this man, he was certainly attractive, but perhaps she was a little burnt out on men after the last one.

Or three.

“What’s your preference then? Fan dances? The ol’ rolling around in the big martini glass?” Said kind of glass is presented in front of her in much smaller size and full of pink cosmopolitan.

[harlow-daniels]

giovannixamboise​:

Giovanni smiled, “The crop top, yes.” Ignacio was attractive but once the vampire was in love he only ever really had eyes for the object of obsession. Fortunate for Volkan, really but the thought of two men fighting over him? It wasn’t a thought that he would immediately dismiss. “I haven’t been there yet,” he heard the owner was some eccentric child but hadn’t actually gone to check it out in person, Giovanni did like a cocktail bar moment but that meant the suit he was wearing was styled incorrectly. The vampire’s attention turned towards changing out silver for gold, if they were going somewhere upper-class he didn’t have to worry so much about catching attention shitty neon lights. Shoes would be the greatest challenge, pointed? rounded? Italian was a given. “but I heard their drinks are supposed to be the best in the city.”  Giovanni reminisced for a moment on that particular trip to London that Harlow referenced, what he remembered most was the cocky posh guy from uptown. “You will find love again,” he sighed referring to the shoes. “I promise.” He strung a gold cross around his neck, old habits die hard but this was more about aesthetic. “There was another vampire, a new one. Anders.” He smiled at the memory of the two of them in the backroom at Void. “Hot.”

-

She settles on black but strappy, the heel chunky and covered in clear stones for just a bit of sparkle. That’s not all she can handle though and so, shoes dangling from the fingers of her right hand, she steps over to her vanity and pops open her jewelry box. Harlow plucks her favorite diamond choker, a gift from some suitor what feels like eons ago. Dropping her shoes to the floor, she fastens her necklace and looks to the rather large mirror on the vanity table. “Oh you know me, I will surely find a someone or two to occupy my time here.” The sigh that escapes her is purposefully wistful, as if she knows how to be anything but. A spritz of perfume, her fingers run through her hair, and then she looks over at him with a bright smile. “And in the meantime I will have fun with my favorite husband.” Because he is her favorite and currently only one, undead or otherwise. “Shall we? You can tell me more about this Anders, I don’t think you mentioned him in your letters.”

[harlow-daniels]

“I have a flexible schedule.” Walking into Mokosh feels like home. Ambrosia is great, it is one of the nicer clubs she’s been at. But there’s something simple about the lights, the sound of high acrylic platforms clacking against a stage. As much as she likes doing more elaborate numbers, there’s something to just doing a simple pole routine, collecting tips, and slipping into a robe and that’s the evening. The woman across from her in the leather booth is also stunning. “I won’t quit one location for another.” @ladasokolov​

[harlow-daniels]

emmaxdarling​:

“It’s Leighton. I was awful to him.” Calling him father or dad still feels strange, she switches between his name and what his biological relevance is to her thoughtlessly. “And, I don’t know. Something else. This city makes my skin crawl but I don’t understand why.” Harlow understands her and that is a rare comfort that few are afforded, only one of their own kind seems to have the capacity to understand what it is to live potentially forever. To carefully thread the line between human and monster. The world has changed so much since she was born into it, she wants to know what will come next. “Maybe my age is finally showing, walk me into the ocean if I ever start to lose my faculties. I’m fine, really. And I’ll be even better,” she gestured towards a particularly sparkly number still hanging up, “if you let me borrow that dress.” 

-

“Did you see him?” Sitting up attentively, Harlow takes a quick sip from her glass and then she is up away from the balcony and striding towards her luxurious closet. It’s something she gets to an extent, seeking out a loved one, trying to find someone who hurt you. Her painted lips pout at the idea of Emma in any kind of emotional pain. It doesn’t matter what they were, how many years they walked the earth, she knew heartbreak of any kind demanded to be felt. Her fingers skim said dress, it’s something she’s repaired, slashed the hemline and fixed up the sequins. “You know I don’t see a point in all of these things if I can’t play dress up with someone else.” Honeyed hair falls over her shoulder as she looks over it at her fellow blonde with a gentle smile.

[harlow-daniels]

vikasokolov​:

Vika liked the way that mischief lived in a molten gaze, and she liked more how it was cast upon her. The attention is, as she intended, undivided and she revelled in it. She had always been hungry, even as a girl, before she had been a succubus— Viktoria Sokolov wanted to suck marrow from the heart of the world, and if such a feat was not achievable she would settle for every heart that she stumbled across. “I’ve known many a devil to look like an angel, and many an angel to look like a devil. And yet, of all of these cherubs and demons crawling around heaven and hell, none hold a candle to you.” The vampire’s hand was still in her hand, and she wanted to brush the pads of her fingers over the fullness of her mouth but instead she looked up through dark lashes, bearing a wicked smile. “To tell the secrets of the gods would be blasphemy,” she cooed, fingers working their way up, rolling over a slim wrist, ghosting over what would have been a pulse point should Harlow had been alive. “But I can divulge one thing.” Vika gestured with her other hand, bidding the other blonde to curve closer to allow her to whisper by her ear.

-

“I’ve always been a fan of a little blasphemy.” If this were a cartoon, one of those old Archie comics, Harlow knew her eyes would be her favorite shape. Red hearts would be bulging from her sockets right at the voluptuous blonde. Harlow’s hands fold and she sets her chin atop them before she’s leaning forward, straining a little in her chair. She has half a mind to put her knees on the seat so she can crawl towards that Russian accent. There was time for that, she had an eternity on this Earth. Accents are always a plus, her own posh English one has gotten her places, but this is something else and each word is painting her as this ethereal being. It’s a pep talk she gives herself in the mirror, that she is something beautiful, that she is something deadly, and to hear those words pour from someone else’s mouth.

She does sit up on her knees, her heels clacking a bit against the back of the chair and she crawls halfway across the table only to rest an elbow on its surface. Her chin rests in the palm of her hand, perfectly manicured baby pink acrylics tapping against her teeth just a little as her fingers hide her grin. “And what’s that?”

[twuwfm]

[lunaoblonsky]

[harlow-daniels]

vikasokolov​:

Vika took the hand in her own, turning over the cool digits— this vampire was like marble, carved from stone; bloodless and beautiful. The fingers came close to her lips as she raised it and the manticore’s first thought was to put them into her mouth, but instead she pressed a glossy kiss onto the knuckles, releasing her hold. “I’m Vika.” Her name was a brick through a window, all harsh syllables and shattered glass, “No stage names.” The allure of the cubi was lost to her, Tartarus had bled it out from her body, but she gleamed at the words. “My home is wherever I wish, right now it is this city.” She toyed with a ring that adorned one of her fingers, “I have come a long way to be here, and while the devils bite at my ankles I spend my time in the company of angels.” The manticore was one that believed in fate, and eyes the colour of sea glass lift, intrigued. “The gods wished this.”

Harlow does not know much or anything about gods or their wishes outside of the rather sexy imagery of the church. There’s many a naughty nun costume in her closet, they’ve worked at a multitude of venues over the years. Angels were but Victoria’s Secret models and perhaps in another life she’d try for such a thing. It’s a little bit funny actually, when she thinks about it, considers the glossy kiss on her knuckles. Technically, she’s far from an angel, she’s got little costumes with devil horns to prove it, but she’s always favored something in between the two. “Well I must say I have more in common with those devils, but I am not about to shake such a fine compliment.” She states, smile downright dreamy and she can feel it, the all too familiar creeping of affection that starts at the base of her spine and works its way up. “What else do they wish?”