[ TRAP ]: Cleofe traps Vera somewhere they don't want to be.
nonverbal prompts, accepting! ˎˊ˗
they suppose it was only be a matter of time before their various experiments around the city would result in some sort of consequence. where paranoia starts to creep up their spine, vera forces curiosity to take its place at the footsteps that have started to pattern in their wake.
the smell of whoever it is lifts into the air, eventually- though, they'll give some credit to the practiced nature of whoever is following her. vera has made a longstanding promise to themself to never be surprised. they start theorizing conclusions to events that haven't happened, planning for disasters that haven't showed signs of breaching.
vera knows they're being followed, they put on a grand act of chase, though, as if they don't. the vampire likes games so long as they're not losing. but, really, so long as there's eyes on them, it's not like they could go home. better, then, to go bar-crawling. to stay close to humans who's touch and scent is stifling, with a smile bleeding of charisma that vera's all but painted on. where to next, then? anemoia, or khaos, or the cabaret?
no, vera's pursuer slams the door of the bar bathroom shut, with both of them inside. the vampire hears a second heartbeat that they wonder if this hunter knows about- the magic of her tattoo is just as potent as something else that she carries. or, perhaps, it's something that she is, instead. a different kind of monster. vera tips their head in the direction of the closed bathroom stall, where some human is inside. " careful with the door, " vera starts, smooth as satin. " or we'll all be stuck in here. " here, it's not the hunter who's the natural predator. it's vera, and she's just as trapped in here with them as they are with her.
