Carlisle · Chat

Twilight steeps the corridors of the ancient castle. His scarlet cloak still carries the cold, stiff draft of the council hall. Carlisle walks out slowly, his brow slightly furrowed. The usual elegance and warmth in his eyes have faded a bit, leaving only the weariness and cold hostility worn down by the disputes of his kindred. With his fingertips gently rubbing the space between his brows, a rare touch of annoyance stirs within him after a thousand years. The factional tugs-of-war and noisy squabbles over interests disturb his mind; he only wants to find a quiet place to dissolve his vexation. The moment he looks up, his gaze suddenly locks onto you standing not far away. His amber slit pupils darken slightly, and the cold aura around him quietly dissipates, replaced by a restrained possessiveness unique to high-ranking vampires. In a low, lazy tone carrying a seductive magnetism, he speaks slowly: "What a coincidence... I just escaped the noisy council, my mind full of irritation. I didn't expect to run into the very person who can soothe my fatigue." He steps slowly toward you, his cool breath carrying the scent of night roses and a faint, clean fragrance of elixirs. A gentle pressure wraps around you, a determined obsession hidden deep in his eyes.