Humming as musical as the minuscule notes that sang forth from a pair of foam headphones dotted the night air, the voice lapsing into silence every so often and allowing the sweet hum of the violins to carry on without him. Under the glow of a street lamp, a figure moved lithely, paintbrush in hand. His open shirt fluttered with his staggered movements as he darted forward and then away again from the canvas before him, paintbrush decorating the wide, cloth-covered board in varied motions.

With one lunge, the artist might stab at the piece in close and rapid movements, creating a solid base of colour. With the next abrupt dart, the bristles of the brush would move smoothly and precisely, tracing fine lines and adding depth. Whatever the action, all movement was triggered by the tempo of his music, and so far, the style seemed to be working for him.

On the canvas thus far was a portrait of a woman dressed in red, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back. She was posed in a quarter-turn, her back mostly to the viewer. Her face, in portrait view and tipped downward subtly, held no distinguishing features as of yet, but her skin was abnormally pale and almost glowing. Beyond her was the view of the city as seen from a roof top at night, though details had not yet been formed.

(ooc; may I join the thread or is it meant for someone else?)

A light mist crept subtly into the park. It looked as any other mist would, nothing obviously different about it. The faint smell of freshly picked rosses followed the cloudy looking fog, the haze seemingly blown in by an unseen deity. There was a slight rustling of leaves, a bit of a whistle, and the mist that had crept up around the artist, surrounding him, was suddenly diminishing and had been replaced by a rather pretty woman.

She stood behind him now; cold, pale hands had slipped attenuatedly around the Amman leader's bare waist, resting on his lower abdomen lightly. In order to be able to rest her chin on his shoulder, as she was, she had to stand on her toes. Her cheek was now against his ear, and she sighed just softly.

"What are you painting?" she whispered.

(ooc; i lied, I can't rp, I gotta go, heh, not like either of you care but just thought i'd share ^_^)

"An angel of darkness more beautiful than any who has seen the light of God," Marcus replied softly, a thrill running through him as her flesh touched his. He set down his brush along the edge of the easel, and turned down the volume switch of his small portable tape player. He smiled, though he could not see Narcissa except out of the corner of his eye, and reached his arms back to circle around her. Had any other man have done it, it might have been an awkward position, but somehow he made it seem as comfortable as any other. "In a word, however; you," he said in conclusion to his earlier statement.

((OOC: Aye, it was intended for Narcissa... Maybe another time, Rieaya?))

Narcissa found herself smiling. "I'm flattered..." she said softly, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. Though the position that he had just gotten himself into, how he touched her like that, was unfamiliar, it was nice nonetheless. The Ishak leader had not spoken or seen him in what seemed to be forever (though it was only in fact a week or so), and she'd missed him. Despite her attempts for things to not be that way, he was always on her mind. "...and I missed you." she said, voice a seductive whisper.

Marcus removed his arms from around Narcissa, and turned while within the circle of hers, needing to face her properly before he went mad with desire. His smile was tender as he gazed upon her, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. "And I have missed you, il mio amore," he sighed, feeling a sort of bliss at being so close to her again which was a very rare feeling for an immortal; any immortal, not just one so old as he.

"What have you been doing?" she asked, voice still soft. Her hands had slid easily to his lower back, gently touching his skin. Her deep blue eyes gazed into his curiously, all of the emotions that she was feeling clearly portreyed in her eyes. Longing, love, lust, sudden happiness, relief.

"A lot of thinking," Marcus sighed, laughing lightly afterwards. "Well, thinking and those hobbies I have that come with it," he added, nodding slightly towards the painting which stood drying behind him. "And you? What have you been doing to keep yourself occupied?" he asked, dropping his casual tone to a gentler caress of words.

"The beautiful night sky..." Narcissa said, her voice sounding somewhat like a purr. "...And arranging things with a few of my coven. There have been many new to this area as of late." Her thumbs moved in gentle circles on his back, just barely touching his skin, which made the action all the more graceful and sensual.

For a moment her eyes shifted from Marcus to the painting that stood not far away from either of them, and back to him. Her left hand moved slowly up his back and stopped on his shoulder blade. "You weild so many talents." she said, smiling softly. "Music and art, and I'm sure there is so much more..."

"I've had a while to perfect them," Marcus replied, thoroughly enjoying her sensual touches and the rise of strong desire stirring through his senses that such tender movements invoked. "And you are right, there are many more," he continued in a whisper before greeting her lips with his, the hand that had been caressing her cheek sliding down her neck, lingering along her spine before coming to rest in the small of her back.

Narcissa kissed him back softly, her lips mingling with his. It was so nice to be able to kiss him like that...and she had missed doing so. She had missed it very much, probably more than she consciously was aware of... The feeling of his hands on her lower back made her lean forward just a bit, involuntarily, leaning into this embrace.

Ah, how he savoured such moments, particularly since there were few of them to be remembered and enjoyed. He held Narcissa closer to him still, tightening his hold on her gently in order to accomplish this, his other arm following the same path as the first. He deepened the kiss while inhaling her seductive fragrance of roses. He would have to remember to somehow include roses in his painting. The lingering scent of blood was also to be identified by his keen senses, calling forth another form of desire in him since it had been nearly a week since he had last fed.

Narcissa leaned forward still, deepening the passion of the kiss as she gently slid her tongue into his mouth. She didn't know how he would react to this, but she hoped that he wouldn't mind so much...she didn't think he would. Her left hand moved up a little more to the back of his neck and head, twirling a few strands of his brown hair around her pale fingers. She wondered if he had been bothering to read her thoughts now, to see what she thought of this, this perfect moment...

Marcus had actually put a block up around his mind when he had begun to paint; he didn't like it when the thoughts of passing mortals intruded on his concentration. That very same shield was still up, and so he knew nothing of what Narcissa felt or thought other than through her reactions. He felt a vague spark of surprise run through him as her tongue slipped into his mouth; it had been a long time since he had been treated so intimately, and it was a touch of a shock as forgotten pleasures returned to him anew.

The fact that he seemed a little surprised didn't phase her, and she kissed him deeply before gently pulling away, nuzzling noses with him. "If I'm doing something you don't like..." she whispered. "...Tell me."

"I don't think..." Marcus began, taking a moment to tenderly kiss her cheek and nose before continuing, "...that's possible." Smiling in the charming manner that he always had, he gently nibbled her upper lip while trailing his fingertips along her back in various patterns.

Narcissa smiled to herself as he did this, eyes now half-lidded, a strange tingling feeling of arousal in her stomach. As he nibbled gently on her upper lip she leaned up and kissed his bottom lip, gently sucking on it, eyes now closing completely in a sort of mindless bliss.

Marcus applied a gentle pressure to the manner with which he nibbled Narcissa's lip; just enough that the tip of one sharp tooth grazed her pale skin and caused a bead of blood to swell to the surface. This he licked off tenderly, feeling a wonderfully warm charge sweep through him at the taste of so sweet and pleasent a necter. It also helped that he had not fed in approximately five days, and was nearing the limit of his kind for such activities.