|Leanan sídhe (requitedly) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-01-09 02:57:00
|Entry tags:||leanan sidhe, wilhelm grimm|
WHO: Leanan sidhe and Wilhelm Grimm
WHAT: A demon fairy vampire muse doing her thing
WHEN: Sunday evening
WHERE: The Diogenes Club
The moment Leanne had heard about the Diogenes Club, she had known it would be the most brilliant hunting grounds she could have been provided with. Shhad e knew she would have to behave herself, of course. But all she did was stroke the egos of artists and inspire them! What could be wrong with that?
The grand opening wasn't until the following weekend, but Leanne had heard about the place from someone and she knew it was accepting customers already. She showed up at the back entrance which she knew was reserved only for immortals. After a quick check with the bouncer, she was in.
The place was beautiful. Rich wood bookshelves lined the walls and each of them held hundreds of literary treasures. Leanne was in heaven. And nothing made it better than spotting the curly hair of Wilhelm Grimm sitting at a table in the corner. Leanne was acquainted with Jacob, but she hadn't gotten to know the younger Grimm brother yet. She sidled over to him and gave him a wide smile. "You're Wil Grimm," she said easily. "I know Jacob."
Wil glanced up, sucking jam off the edge of his thumb. He was eating jam scones and poring over a book from the shelf beside him that he hadn't seen in a while, a glass of wine next to him. He blinked through his reading glasses at the woman standing there, and gave her a slightly vacant smile: the smile of a man whose thoughts are still trapped on the page.
"Hello. Do you?"
Leanne grinned, adoring the slightly distracted, dopey look on his face. "I do. He carries your photo around in his wallet; did you know?"
"I didn't know people looked in his wallet other than him," Wil replied mildly with a shrug. "And who are you?" He was beginning to pay a little more attention to her now, though he still wanted to go back to his book.
"He was paying for a mocha and he had it open," Leanne said easily. "My name is Leanne." She sat down opposite him without being asked. If needed, she would send out tendrils of desire towards him, but it took a lot of energy and she didn't have great reserves right now.
"I'm a fairy, I suppose, if you want to put a label on it."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Leanne," Wil said. "Since you already seem to know me, I shan't bother introducing myself." He noticed her sit down, prepared to talk to him, and he slid the receipt he was using as a bookmark between the pages to hold his place. "And how can I entertain you this evening?"
Leanne smiled, pleased he seemed willing to speak. "I have always been a fan of your work. Are you writing anything new at the moment?" Aside from everything else, she was a muse. She could inspire in exchange for draining the life force from a creative soul. But that part she would keep to herself.
Wil shrugged a shoulder. "I'm writing a thesis on linguistics," he said, stroking a hand over the cover of the book. "I don't know if that is the kind of work you are a fan of?" He half-smiled, raising an eyebrow.
"I love all of it!" Leanne said enthusiastically. "I don't know how much you know about Celtic mythology," she hoped it wasn't much, "but I'm sort of a literary muse. I love any and all writing."
"I am more acquainted with Germanic folklore," Wil replied, making a mental note to refresh his mind on Celtic sprites. "It's nice to know our work is still appreciated sometimes, though. Did you want an autograph?" He smirked a little, self-depreciatingly.
Leanne chuckled and she shook her head. "I don't need an autograph. I have something I can offer you though. Inspiration."
"Inspiration? That's not something I am often short on," Wil said, though his mind flicked to his ever-going novel and his complete inability to finish it. Other peoples' stories were easy. "What do you get out of it? Come now, I know my fairies. It's never out of the goodness of their hearts."
"I like a man who knows his fairies," Leanne smiled widely. "I inspire you and I get love back. It's how it works. It's all I need, really. I like inspiring great works, and the artists are always so grateful."
She smiled at him, hoping to charm him. He was less abrasive than Jacob in some ways. She liked the fact that he was confident without seeming egotistical. She did enjoy the egos, but sometimes it was nice to be around an author who didn't claim to be the best at everything.
"Love? How unusual." But, Wil supposed, in today's world where few people believed, they all needed to get their worship from wherever they could. She did seem very lovely, though. Of course she did.
He tapped his fingers on the table in thought for a moment, curious. "I do have a novel that I have never been able to start properly or finish properly," he admitted. "It is full of fairytale tropes and convenient plot points. I don't seem to be able to write stories that are fully my own."
Leanne liked the sound of that. "I can make it possible," she said with a smile. "You have the talent, you just need a little push." He was beautiful and brilliant. Exactly what she liked.
She also knew he had died from illness and occasionally got sick even now. That did tend to make her job easier when she started feeding off of her authors. It was why she adored Keats so much, and why she wanted Lewis Carroll too.
"So, are you helping out any other artists, or is it just me?" Wil asked, unsure if he should accept her help. After all, he had managed this far on his own. But Jacob had been so busy with the baby and everything lately, surely he wouldn't mind if Wil got a little bit of writing done? "What does it require?"
"A few," Leanne said, trying to appear aloof. She didn't want to mention Hans' name to Wil. "And all it requires is your presence." The rest she tended to take care of herself. She made her authors fall in love with her, and they were inspired simply by being around her.
Wil raised one eyebrow. "So it just sort of... rubs off on me?" he asked. He knew better than to not believe her. "Show me." He leaned his chin on one hand, curiosity getting the better of him.
"If I'm going to show you, I have to get closer," she said with a coy look on her face. She slid out of her booth and into his, leaning close to him. "Can you feel it?" she whispered into his ear, working her attraction and sending it his way in waves.
Wil felt a little like his bubble was being invaded for a moment, but that was as long as it lasted. He looked at her, his mouth suddenly going dry. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as she whispered in his ear.
"I think so," he said, his voice a little croaky. His fingers tingled with the need to do something with them. "How long til this wears off?"
"Depends," Leanne said, not entirely sure whether or not she had him on her hook yet. "I can make it last for however long I want. And if you let me, I can make it last a very long time."
It was like the pressure inside Wil's ears popped, and he could hear clearly for once. "Oh!" he said, a plot twist uncurling itself in his head. He'd have to remember that. And damn, but the feeling was addictive. He looked at Leanne and smiled, face lit up excitedly. "That is- you are-" Words failed him a moment, before he decided on a sigh of, "Wonderful."
Leanne grinned at the compliment and she reached her fingers out to brush some of his dark curls out of his eyes. "And I will continue to be, as long as you are wonderful to me in return. It can't be too difficult, can it?" she asked, a coy look on her face, "to give me what I want in return?" She leaned closer to him. Close enough to kiss.
Wil hesitated for a long moment. It had been a long time since he'd last kissed a woman. But he and Jacob were so sporadic at the moment, and anyway, Jacob had Louis and Clio and all the rest of them. It wasn't quite cheating if it was with a woman. He licked his lips quickly, closed his eyes, and kissed her. The tingle of excitement for the new she inspired felt good.
When Leanne pulled away, she brushed his cheek with her fingers, making sure to fill his head with inspiration for his novel. Let him work for now, and come back to her in a week or so when the inspiration faded.
"There's my sweet man," she said with a curl of her lips.