Eve Baptiste spent the better part of the night floating dark winding roads. It seemed that she was idly wandering, but in fact, she knew exactly where she was headed. She had started this long journey hours ago, briskly flying over swamps and fields and wild forests that reminded her of her homeland. She could have taken a cab, and maybe that would have been better, but Eve felt a strong pull towards the beautiful sky. It was a clear night, and she could spot the massive Strigoi Estate from miles away. When she landed on the concrete porch of the estate she experienced a few seconds of vertigo. Eve touched her temple with long delicate fingers and feared that she would have a migraine. She stood absolutely still, her cold skin glowing with the power of the undead, and waited for it to pass. When it did, she let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding in.

Eve was clad in a pair of black heels and a black strapless dress-- it was the last item her former master Marcus had told her to wear. It was 100% cotton with a fitted bodice and a pleated skirt that stopped at the top of her knees. Her make up made her face appear more humanly natural and her earrings were simple diamond studs. Marcus had instructed Eve carefully on how she was to greet her new master; she must bow, she must appear humble, she must smile, and she must compliment Darla no matter what. Marcus said that Darla was a good and trusting master, but Eve remained skeptical. The transfer was handed down to Marcus from the mother of Eve’s bloodline, and therefore, failure to comply would lead to inevitable doom. Translation: Eve was still on probation and had to listen to The Council‘s orders.

Eve gave a weary sigh and approached the front door cautiously. She rang the doorbell, something she realized she hadn’t done in over a hundred years, and waited for an answer. A man opened the door and Eve curtsied.

“I am Eve Baptiste. I have come to see my new master, Miss Darla Strigoi,” she said simply.

“Yes Miss Baptiste. The Master has been waiting for you,” the man replied.

Eve rose and the man led her inside the estate. Although her eyes remained in front of her, the first thought that popped in Eve’s head was how beautiful and large the home was. Marcus’ penthouse was certainly impressive, but the Strigoi estate went beyond that. There would be time to examine the finer details of the house later, now, she had to see if Master Darla would even accept her. They stopped in front of a staircase and then the butler abandoned her. Eve stood as still as she could and kept her eyes trained in front of her. She was eager to meet the vampire her life would belong to.

Sensing the arrival of the new arrival, Eve Baptiste, Darla finished fastening the clasp of her pendant, a thumb-sized ruby encased in a shell of silver filigree fashioned into vines, and stood from her armoire, smoothing the black skirts of her dress before letting her hands wander up higher over the thick, wine-red material of her corset that bore black vine patterns to match her pendant, checking it was properly fastened via the unusual design of front laces that left a line of pale torso gleaming through the crimson and displayed her cleavage perfectly. Her ears glittered with earrings to match the pendant and her hair, having grown it slightly longer, was pinned up at the back loosely so as to create a cascade of thick black locks that framed her face and throat, but left her shoulders and decolletage bare.

Moving out of her room and down the sweeping white marble staircase, her skirts whipsering over the steps though her heels made no noise from the delicacey of her almost floating movements, Darla fixed her eyes on the vampire awaiting her at the bottom of them and let her ever-present light smirk widen to show Eve had been spotted in a curve of crimson lips.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and moving over to Eve, finding that she was slightly taller than the woman and so looking down at her ever so slightly, Darla folded her hands over her pelvis, the image of relaxed poise, and awaited a greeting.

Eve could not take her eyes off the enchanting vampire that seemingly floated down the staircase. It almost reminded her of the day she died, and Ekaterina had made her a child again. Darla Strigoi was a perfect picture of beauty, regality and elegance from head to toe. Her power spilled into the room like a wave, and if a human were present it would be hard for them to breath; to Eve it was like a cool summer breeze that gently caressed her olive skin. It's tingling sensation ran up her spine and moved through her body with wave after wave. Eve snapped to as the tall vampire finally made it to the bottom of the stairs and awaited a greeting. She graciously smiled at her new master, avoiding eye contact because she did not know if Darla would consider that rude, and curtsied very low to the ground.

“Master, I have come to humbly serve you,” she said. “You are even more beautiful than my former master Marcus said you were,” she explained and she really meant it. Eve was often complimented on her beauty, but Darla was quite a sight.

Eve had met some of the old ones-- the very old ones-- and Darla had to easily be one of the most powerful. She didn’t seem as if she was trying to test or punish Eve to confirm who had the upper hand, not yet anyway, so things were going good thus far.

“I hope to be of use to you my lady. My only wish is to please you,” Eve said sweetly still curtsying low to the ground.

The taughtness of Eve's body as she entered her presence made Darla's soft smirk deepen slightly for a moment, her brown eyes twinkling with the barest hint of amusement showing through the neutrality when that attention was coupled with a dutiful lack of eye contact.

Watching Eve curtsey, Darla could taste the scincerity of her words and memorised them as she always did with the first things said to her by new vampires. The first things said to a new Master said volumes about the vampire giving voice to them, and so it had become a habit years ago for Darla to record those words so as to use them should they be needed in future.

"That is a compliment indeed Eve as I am aware of how Marcus does enjoy to describe things of beauty. However, if you truly wish to serve your Master would it not be wise to offer yourself to her as a sign of such? Unless of course Marcus neglected to instruct you in the proper form of greeting others?"

Eve's body went as still as a corpse, but her mind was very much alive with many thoughts and many questions. She was absolutely positive that she had done everything Marcus had told her to do. She had smiled, she had bowed, she had complimented Darla and appeared humble; what else could her new master want from her? Eve licked her lips in a nervous gesture and hesitantly rose from her curtsy.

“I apologize for my ignorance, but I’m not sure what you mean my lady,” she said sincerely in a voice that had a slight Slavic accent. “What does my lady wish of me?” she asked and her voice sounded more like her own.

‘Surely she does not want me to shake her hand?’ Eve asked herself. She had seen vampire’s murdered for much less. Eve looked Darla in the face then, but she still avoided the eyes -- she just didn’t know Darla well enough for that.

We walk slowly, but deliberately, our head held high. Even with the mask on our face, no one would remember seeing us or catch even the merest of glimpses as we walk by. Tonight had but one purpose, a purpose that was about to be fulfilled. Our moves were deliberate, yet not even a whisper of our approach would be heard. We walk in the company of static. No one would be any the wiser until the time was right.

We slip soundlessly into the estate yet again, but to the mistress she would only be aware of this being our second visit to her lovely home. Our footsteps make no sounds along the elaborate flooring under our feet as we make our approach. Yes, there she was. Placing ourself near a small table, the same table the servant had been tending upon our first visit, we move our eyes to watch the goings on. Ah, yes. The mistress was receiving yet another into her fold. Would this one make it to her bed as others had? How intriguing.

Tilting our head, we watch in silence as the new arrival to this port city makes a feeble attempt at announcing her wish to serve. Do they not teach the young the proper way to greet anymore? Such a pity. Perhaps that is one of the many things to be reminded of when the time was right to announce our true arrival. But, tonight, that was not what we were here for.

The mistress’ eyes focus on her new ward. We allow, only for the briefest of moments, one thing to be seen. Our mask fades into view in the mistress’ line of sight, as if it were a mirage, fading away just as quickly. Now, our purpose for this visit had been achieved. We leave in the same manner as we arrived, soundless and sightless. Tonight’s visit was for one reason alone, to deliver a simple reminder. We see everything, and we are always here. After all, We are the Harlequin.