[Sylvain stands out in a crowd; the red hair will do that, particularly in an environment so inclined towards shades of black and gray. From his vantage point lounging in a relatively secluded nook — one which he's been holding down roughly since he'd arrived, and scared off at least one other pair of lesser vampires from thinking they might stand a chance of claiming it — Rufus has largely been people-watching, more interested in playing voyeur to the proceedings than surrendering his seat to go out and partake of them. Which means it's a point of interest when he spots someone he knows; it's always more interesting to watch a familiar face than a stranger, after all.
He's wearing black tonight, instead of his usual white — a black shirt with arm garters and sleeves rolled to the elbow, paired with black trousers and boots with a black silk vest over. It makes the rest of him stand out rather dramatically — the ice-blond hair, the pale skin, the gleaming fangs.
He doesn't call out to try to draw in his entertainment. He simply waits, and lets one of two things happen: either for Sylvain to spot him first — and notice the silent invitation in his unwavering gaze — or to grow impatient enough that he flags down one of the passing help and sends them over to deliver his invitation by proxy.]
take a bite;
He's wearing black tonight, instead of his usual white — a black shirt with arm garters and sleeves rolled to the elbow, paired with black trousers and boots with a black silk vest over. It makes the rest of him stand out rather dramatically — the ice-blond hair, the pale skin, the gleaming fangs.
He doesn't call out to try to draw in his entertainment. He simply waits, and lets one of two things happen: either for Sylvain to spot him first — and notice the silent invitation in his unwavering gaze — or to grow impatient enough that he flags down one of the passing help and sends them over to deliver his invitation by proxy.]