It isn't even all that late, but already the shoppers of the day are gone to other parts of the city, other little nooks and crannies.

But it's a safe part of the city (in the daytime), so why should night be any different?

She's wearing one of her Jetta-inspired outfits, a top in olive green, long sleeved but with a nice low neckline, and jeans. She isn't as fancy as Jetta, just along the same sorts of lines - designed to attract the attention of everyone she sees.

She hasn't gotten used to that, yet.

The girl obviously doesn't know much about the city, now does she?

Alice happens to be on the prowl, he knows this area quite well. He's met many of his victims on this street. There is no question why though, he is able to attract his vitcims. The angel is gorgeous, of course his wings are hidden - he isn't stupid, but his face is never hidden, and thus he gets quite a lot of attention. And he loves all of it.

As usual he looked attractive, having gone out on a trip to California, he stopped by Vegas and shopped at the high designer stores located there. Goodness knows how much money he spent, but he doesn't care, it was - as always - worth it. He was going for an almost asexual look, gorgeous enough to be either gender, though his body wasn't feminine enough, his clothes were just slightly.

A cashmere turtleneck, perfectly white (his current prefered color), fit very tightly on his lean torso. Black dress pants, crisp with no lint or white or anything else attached to them, were on his long legs. Hidden, knee-high leather boots on his feet, complete with silver buckles, were almost completely hidden save for the bottom part of the heel and the toe, beneath the long pant legs. His silvery-blonde hair, perfectly matching his eyebrows and eyelashes to show that it is natural, tied back in a loose braid. All clothes were obviously designer, as were his boots.

No college student - an ordinary one at least - should be able to afford such ridiculously priced items. Then again, he isn't ordinary is he? He goes to the college of course, he doesn't associate with Jetta's crowd though. His crowd is even snobbier.

He's walking down the sidewalk, sauntering acutally, and looking bored. But his eyes zoom in on her. Hm. Interesting. She might just make a decent person to torment. Because he is in a mood. But isn't he always? What a bitch.

And his attention draws her eye.

Wow.

Wow. She assumes it's just chance eye contact in the street, but he is beautiful.

So she doesn't look away. There's no arrogance in her gaze, no haughtiness, just awe.

He's so pretty.

This is exactly how she reacted to Jetta. Sad, really.

Oh yes, that was the look Alice needed.

Just make his ego bigger would you? It's already the size of a small planet named 'Planet Alice'. If you look at him like that, you might as well simply worship him. And he'd love that very much. If he wasn't in the mood he was in now, he'd probably be able to...recruite her (if that is that right word) and steal her from Jetta so he could use her as a little pet and lackey.

Not that he is lacking any of those. He has his own entourage at the college, made up of beautiful well-dressed people. Perhaps she has seen them, who knows? Is she even a student? Alice hasn't ever seen her before.

His long legs take no time to bring him up to her. Whatever smugness and arrogance she lacks, he makes up for. His aura is one of pure confidence, it can make any timid person feel quite small. He brushes a small strand of hair back out of his perfect, unflawed face. A smirk is on his wide mouth. Oh the number of horrid things he could say to her right now, but he doesn't do that immediately, no no.

"Evening..."

His voice is deep, bass actually, that low. It could be described as lucious by the romantics, but rich could also be easilly used. Ain't he something?

She's startled, maybe a bit scared, draws back ever so slightly before telling herself to not be silly.

No one that beautiful could be evil.

"I. Hello." Breathy, almost, shy.

She smiles a tiny, tentative smile, because she doesn't know what he wants and she's nervous. Quite nervous.

Goodness gracious, she's a might bit jumpy, isn't she?

Alice resisted snorting at first, but he couldn't help raising his eyebrow. He is getting a feel of her, what seems to make her uncomfortable or shyer, etcetera, etcetera.

If all beautiful people were good, then that would be no fun. Because we wouldn't have manipulative people like Alice or Jetta. Alice happens to be manipluative in a slightly different way then Jetta of course.

"Mm..." It was like a rumble that some how fit him. "Did you know it is quite dangerous for a young lady like you to be out at this time of night?"

It was almost like a scolding, but his tone is quite amused actually. He's used to getting this response from people, especially the timid ones. He simply sokes it all up.

She shrugs, glancing down.

"Haven't you?"

She resents him for his patronizing tone, for his beauty, for being everything she isn't. (That's aside from the worship of his beauty, which hasn't disappeared, just taken second place.)

It's a thin line between love and hate, you know.

As a side note, I don't think that was a dig at his masculinity. But being out at night is dangerous for anyone. So there.

"Oh yes, I know very well..."

He is one of the reasons it isn't safe for a few people to be out. He looked down at her. It probably didn't help that Alice happened to tower over most people at 6'9", did it? Tall, blonde, and gorgeous. What many women (and even quite a few men) wish they were. His head tilted down slightly, so he wasn't looking down his nose at her like he does with most people.

"All too well actually..."

He gives her a once over. Oh yes, plans are just formulating in his mind. By the way, he is used to the resentment, he sees it all the time.

She breaths too evenly - she's controlling her breathing because otherwise she would show fear with it.

"Yeah? How's that?" Distracted, facade of normalcy, but her eyes flicker away and her expression is just this side of tense and she is beginning to suspect that light is good.

Or crowds. Crowds would be better.

Sadly, there are no crowds in evidence.

"I've ran into things that would make anyone never want to go outside again, let alone turn off any lights."

Women in particular was silently stated somewhere in there. And it was true actually, he ran into Verkur at night, as well as a few other creepy crawlers. This city isn't as safe as one would wish it was. Really, underneath it all, it is quite the war zone, a blood bath with all the people dying and dissapearing, quite frightening actually.

"But I suppose it does provide useful to me, I happen to meet all sorts of...interesting...people too..."

His sharp eyes zoomed in on her ears. They were mostly hidden by hair, but he had seen a point. Fae? Fae happened to be delicious.

To eat.

Like that Wick, except he hadn't eaten Wick, no, he had simply carved a tattoo on his side. Quite nice actually.

The look he was giving her was very predatorial, like a peice of meat (not ass, meat) being eyed by a hungry cat. He was very cat-like. His smirk widened, cheshire cat grin unnerving and revealing too pointy canines, quite disturbing actually.

"Very interesting."

She breaths for a moment. And another.

"Stop it." She's not quite trembling. "You're just doing that to scare me. Stop it."

On the other hand, it's working. You can see the fear in her eyes, behind the contact lenses.

"Oh? I'm simply telling you the truth...then again, the truth scares many people, especially timid little ones like you, pet."

He gave a small sniff, tucking back a few more strands of hair. He didn't even know why he put his hair back like this, it slipped out eventually. He reached back, grabbing the ponytail and pulling it off. What happened next was actually attractive. His hair unwound, spinning, and then spread out, silver-blonde floating out as it did so. He simply tucked the ponytail in his pocket.

"Silly girl, you aren't from this area are you?"

If I was in the mood, I'd teach you a /real/ lesson.

"Shut up." So tense, is she, yes she is.

Nervous habit, checking to make sure hair covers ears, adjusting, hiding. Everything's okay. He just has to leave her alone, and everything will be okay.

And then she's captivated again, because his hair is beautiful.

So very beautiful....

Elves have a weakness for beautiful things, I believe.

She's staring again.

Doesn't it help that it is late? With the moon and all? He is quite the lovely sight, especially with that small head toss, hair rolling like waves.

I do agree with you. Shiny and beautiful things, though of good quality, not like crows and birds who collect cheap shiny items. Alice is not cheap, he will never be tacky. He's expensive and well bred, as his 'Mother' told him.

That always makes him suspicious of his origins.

But anyways. He smirked, stepping up more, looming over her. His ice blue eyes gleaming as he looked down with cat-like slits for pupils.

"You aren't bad to look at all, pet..." His hand raised and caught her chin, tilting her face up. "Too bad you lack the brains to balance everything out."

I do believe that is his subtle way at calling her an idiot.

Meeting his eyes make hers widen. Hazel-green contacts, behind which emerald cat-pupiled eyes hide. Much like his.

"Don't touch me." But the tone is soft and scared, his appearance having shaken her confidence.

She steps backwards, out of his grasp. "Leave me alone." There's a bit of that defiance still in her tone, but not enough to be called firm.

He actually sneered, but he managed to make the expression look good, since it fit so well on his face. The hint of a feral smirk, canines looking even more threatening.

"Why should I?"

He loomed over her, taking a step to bring them close together again.

"After all, you were the one who decided to come out here, at night, with all us dangerous creatures out here."

He gave a low, rumbling chuckle. It sounded too much like a growl. It was like he was going to eat her or something.

"Leave. Me. Alone." There's a hint of the feral in her now, something wilder than human, something less tame.

But she doesn't even think to run away, or scream. What good would it do?

This kind of guy, this kind of bully, doesn't give up that easily.

Nevermind that the bullies she's dealt with were powerless children, the principle still applies (or she thinks it does).

Alice is not a powerless child. He's quite young, only 127 years, and has a long way to go before he hits maturity. A long way to go. But he certainly isn't powerless.

In fact this is exciting him a little, his eyes flashing as she begins to bare her teeth (not literally, but you should understand). He only sneered more.

"Why? Becuase you tell me to? Say hello to the real world, poupée, no one does what you tell them to without getting something in return."

He looked up and down her, just to make her uncomfortable. He wasn't considering bedding her at this moment, just making her squirmy.

"What would you give me in return to leave you alone?"

Hah, like anyone would actually want to bed her. She isn't stupid.

"Business end of a golf club," spits Sam, as she turns away, her back to him.

She's just going to walk away.

"Lovely."

Of course Alice isn't going to let her walk off. He wants to see her cry. That would be such a nice sight. Then maybe he'd leave her alone, if she cried. He sneered down at her, hand clasping onto her arm. His eyes were narrowed.

"Don't you dare turn your back to me."

He pulled her back against his body, lean body of muscle pressed against her lithe form.

"It is not a wise thing to do."

She breathes in a shuddering breath.

She can't control the shuddering now, not with him touching her. She's trembling. She can't stop herself from trembling. She can't move.

Panic. This is panic. On an intellectual level, she probably knows that. A pity knowing what it is has no bearing on the situation.

She whispers something, but even she can't hear herself. It's swallowed by the night.

Any other girl her age, they'd be crying. But she's experienced at this level of fear. She may freeze up, she may panic, but she isn't going to give him that kind of satisfaction.

Her breathing is ragged.

Oh darn, and he was really wanting to see and hear her cry.

Both of his hands are holding her arms, and they are like steel too, tight and painful. any tighter and he could fracture - possibly break - her arms. Ow. He leans his head over her shoulder, his own breath calm and quiet compared to her's.

"What's wrong poupée? What are you afraid of?"

His mouth pressed against her neck, his low bass seeming as if it sent vibrations right through her. His eyes were half-closed. He looked like an animal who had just caught its prey, and was about to close in for the killing bite.

She descends into the depths of fear, and fear and darkness surround her, and there is nothing else.

She can feel his breath hot on her neck. She can't see him, though. Can't see-

And something, something inside her, snaps like a frail twig. And she tears away, using inhuman strength of her own, eyes glowing a green that shouldn't be possible on this earth, not that she's aware enough of her surroundings to notice. She is fear, she is the pain in her arm, in her other arm, she is anger, but she is not thinking.

Facing him now, I think, one arm free the other still trapped. "Get. The fuck. Away from me."

She isn't crying. She's angry. She is so angry - but it is a fragile anger, and the only thing standing between her and the dark. Fire to combat it, you see.

Oh hoh! Now this is getting interesting.

He grinned, raising an eyebrow, his grip remaining on the girl's arm.

"And if I don't let go? What'll you do? Scream at me and try to slap me?"

He sneered.

"The last person who faught back got thrown on the ground, had his hands pierced through by a danger to pin him on the ground, and I raped him. He was actually decent. Firey pretty-boy."

He gave a rather growling sort of well, purr.

"Do you like it rough too, poupée? Because I know I do...maybe we can do something..."

Messing with the mind. That is all it is.

Right now anyways.

Trembling again, hoping it's out of anger, rather than fear, trembling against his grip.

Terrified, however much she denied it.

"What I'd like." She tries to breath. "Is for you to get away." She wrenches at that arm, but that feral strength has deserted her, whereever it came from.

Probably just a product of adrenaline, when all was said and done.

"Leave me alone." There's anger in that, but there's desperation too, hiding at the edges of her tone.

It wouldn't take that much to make her crack now, truly. Just a bit of pressure applied judiciously....

His grip probably hurt. It was strong. Her flailing would not help, in fact, it'll probably only hurt her even more. He smirked down at her, twisting her arm so she was pressed against him, but any more flailing would cause intense pain and might break her arm.

"That's lovely, sweetheart, but too bad...I'm starting to sort of like you..."

His fingers trailed up her side softly, tipping up her chin to look into his own gorgeous face.

"I'm not sure I can really leave you alone..."

Just cry and he will though. He wants to see her sob, hard, and lay on the ground while she is at it.

She sags, forward, against him.

Nowhere else to go.

"Please."

She can't do more than that, can't, can't, can't, even if it would make him leave her alone.

She can't.

She isn't capable of tears, anymore. Maybe, maybe, but not tonight, not here.

Alice smirked, and grabbed her around the waist, propping her up.

"Ah, what is this, sweetheart? Seeking comfort somehow?"

He tipped her back slightly, as if bowing them both, and then of all things, he began to dance. It was a sort of mock ballroom dance, where he twirled her around, letting her flop about like a doll.

"Poor, poor poupée. Are you already broken? That is simply no fun..."

His feral smile widened, teeth flashing. What else could he do with her? So many options...

That brought her back to herself.

"Fuck. Fuck you. Leave me alone."

She feels like screaming.

See, here's the interesting thing about Sam. She never stays down for long. Never.

And she jerks away again, still breathing heavily but teeth bared because she is fucking pissed.

And she doesn't swear easily, for the record.

She grabs at his hair, I think, gets a handful and pulls.

Childish, yes, but she isn't trained in self-defense, and all that she can think of is rough and tumble games with siblings, in which hair pulling was a major key to victory.

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

No she just did not.

She touched his precious hair. Which mind you, is very soft and silky, and while thin, is of excellent quality and very strong. He did give a hiss. Okay, scratch being as nice to her as he had been, the bitch is going down.

Her wrist is grabbed and twisted, finger pressure points being pushed into expertly and very much quite painfully. Next he pushes her forward, and tosses in a backhand to the face, then a bitch slap. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Forget seeing stars.

Say hello to the universe Sam.

Just like Norm.

She yelps like a kicked puppy, and swears.

"What - the fuck - was that for?" It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

She isn't being very sane, and her hair's in her eyes.

Poor girl, really.

"For touching my hair."

He flipped the long locks of silver-blonde backwards, looking like molten metal as it did so.

"Very few people are allowed to touch my hair without my permission."

Those people happened to be only three; his 'Mother', Lucien, and of course Verkur. A little Fae girl was not on the list.

He looked haughty as usual.

"Such fragile creatures, you females, one of the reason why men are so much more fun to torment...plus when you break them, they break hard and heavy, and into pieces that are almost impossible to fix back together..."

He brushed his fingers through his hair. Plus females got pregnant, males did not.

"I'm fucking sorry, okay? I didn't fucking mean to, but what else was I supposed to fucking do?"

Seriously, though. She doesn't know the societally polite thing to do in situations like these.

Alice blinked once, twice, and then rolled his eyes.

How sheltered was this girl? Instead of apologizing she could have taken off running. But what is the point if he would chase her and get her 'gain anyways?

"You have no idea."

He snorted, looking down condescendingly at her, no longer finding her quite as amusing as he had before the hair pulling.

"No. I don't."

Pause.

"Now leave me alone."

She's not crying, but she's still trembling. Reaction, to the emotion, to it all.

She is not running away from this guy. She doesn't run from anyone.

Ever.

"No, why don't you run away? Silly girl."

She doesn't run away though, does she?

Alice was getting bored now that she showed signs of not being easilly broken.

And he wasn't in the mood for touching anyone in any way.

Feh, how horrid.

"You're trembling. Scared? Excited? Nervous? Feeling a bit...squeemish?"

She shivers, and takes one step back before stopping herself.

"I was here first." Her tone is undefiant, childish, explanatory.

She never said she made sense.

Alice raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down, taking a step forward.

"Oh really?"

Who cares is it doesn't make sense? It's a fight of egos, like with Verkur, Alice, and the rock. All ego.

"Yes. Or did you lose your memory inbetween trying to terrify me out of my mind?" She's breathing angrily again. "This is your idea of fun, isn't it...."

Alice shrugged.

"If you are asking if this is a hobby of mine."

A sneer.

"Yes, it is. And I find it highly amusing."