Cersie was hopelessly drawn in. The promise of power, the infinite possibilities. How could he deny such things? The truth and reality of Iseulith's dreams and desires were completely different from what he had imagined. He suspected the vampire wanted to control him, to enslave him. Perhaps he did want to use him, but as a partner, not a tool. At least that's how the elemental discerned his meanings. When the world warped and shifted until they were back within Iseulith's home, he almost sighed in relief. Relief mixed with longing. Even fake, the world Iseulith made of his liking was wondrous indeed. But he was right. It was a cage, meant to keep the most powerful of creatures at bay.<br/><br/>Another reason why he shouldn't trust him in full, but their bond was strong, and it only grew stronger. He scrunched his nose when it was tweaked, but couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips. "Power. Dominating the world." He preened like a peacock. "All very tempting indeed." Though he was really tired, and felt a good night's (or in this case day's) sleep would do him good. Let him sleep on it, so to speak. "Especially since I am the only of my kind." And still that nagging voice in the back of his mind warned of how not a good idea this was. War would be raged. Lives would be lost. But what did he care of what damage was wrought on the world when he did so year around? Even though he only caused destruction where it deemed 'natural', he was still a mass murderer.<br/><br/>If anyone human knew what he was and what he'd done over the centuries they would seek to destroy him. Vampires had sought to control him, far worse than Iseulith ever attempted, and witches so far remained oblivious to his nature. The idea of coming forth, of showing everyone he was a force to be reckoned with, was exhilarating, and he stepped closer to the other who would see it happen. His eyes searched the carmine gaze of the other's, and he nodded slowly. There was a thoughtful frown on his features, but really Cersie was just leery of being in the tight confines of a coffin. However, every inch of his body prickled with the urge to do so. He could always escape, if need be. Air could trickle out of even the most tightest confines, and if his claustrophobia grew too great, that was definitely an option.<br/><br/>That and the thought of waking up to Iseulith's fangs buried in his throat was positively arousing, and he shuddered and licked his lips. "Sleep sounds definitely good, and I have no where to go but up for my own rest." His shop could easily be forgotten at this point. It had just been a means to an end, after all. Cersie had used the money more to buy drugs than to actually survive. And now he had something, someone, far better than any drug, and three times as addicting. His saliva, his blood, they were like the finest candy in the world and Cersie just couldn't stop. He supposed the vampire was in a similar conundrum, given that Cersie's blood was powerful and exhilarating, freeing. It was quite possible they were addicted to one another.<br/><br/>To the point that Cersie was ready to forego his deep and very real very of enclosed spaces. It caused him to pause in their travel to Iseulith's room. He held out a hand to steady himself, body shaking. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. He could do this. Iseulith was trusting him with his deepest secret, his most vulnerable state of existence. What was he afraid of? If the other wanted to rule the world with him as his weapon, why would he trap him in the tight confines? Not that he would succeed, not at least without magic, and the other had already shown signs of being weakened from the night's many and wondrous adventures. Once the shaking stopped, and if Iseulith had let him be to gather his wit, the elemental would come closer and slip his blue-tinted hand around Iseulith's arm. "To bed Iseu," he murmured, the fear quashed under the promise of so much more.<br/><br/>The room was massive, with a sort of dais like set up in the middle and four massive pillars hoisting it into the air. Almost like a throne room. There were mountains of treasure, gold and silver and precious gems and metals worth a thousand fortunes and then some. They could buy so many armies, but the idea of possessiveness towards the treasure was strong, a lingering effect of the blood. He wanted to shower the room in glass sculptures and containers and organize the hell out of the area. Maybe Iseulith would let him sometime. For a creature of such massive destruction he liked things organized, an almost OCD like behavior. All he could do was stare and gap in awe of the wondrous, gorgeous room. Even with the mounds of treasure it was phenomenally beautiful.<br/><br/>Up the dais was indeed a larger coffin, built of flawless granite. Ancient symbols had been etched and carved in neat but powerful lines along the stone. The lid had a carved skeleton statue dressed in robes and littered with jade, rubies and other precious stones that spoke volumes of Iseulith's nature. Cersie felt suddenly rather honored to be standing in the room. He was also glad they were both lithe in stature, because only two figures could fit in the coffin, and even then they would have to be quite intimately entwined. That fear crawled down his neck again and he swallowed, but he was determined to overcome it, to trust in the vampire and his promises. He turned and looked at Iseulith. "This room is magnificent," he whispered, still in awe and quite uncertain of how to move or proceed. He didn't want to touch anything, not yet.