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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Oct 22, 2008 22:31:31 GMT -5
The Red Horn was a torturous place to hang out.
Cynthia Gage sat in a secluded corner, sulking moodily as she waited for the barmaid to find her. She knew all of the staff here were vampires such as herself, but that was a small comfort. The place reeked of human blood, of Werewolf stench. It was an outrage that either races were allowed in this place.
The scent of their perspiration alone as they danced avidly on the dance floor was enough to fill Cynthia's mouth with venom. She swallowed it, wincing at the burn in her throat. The barmaid finally arrived, a platter in her hands. She was a very beautiful woman, such as were most vampires; she seemed to recognize Cynthia. It was no surprise; she was a regular here.
She didn't come here to dance, though.
There was a reason that The Red Horn only hired fanged employees; they didn't only serve alcohol at the bar. Not if you knew how to ask. Since Cynthia frequented here so often, though, she no longer even needed to ask properly. She simply told the woman, "I'm parched."
She understood and told her she'd be with her in a flash. She meant it literally. She was back quickly, a tall glass of thick, red liquid with a stalk of celery protruding. It was a sort of joke amongst the regulars; a "Bloody Mary", in the most literal of senses. Sometimes they were "Bloody John"s or "Bloody Trisha"s, depending on who had been drained in order to supply the drink.
This was the easiest way to quench her thirst without risking exposure. Cynthia liked to indulge in this method of drinking, despite her love of the hunt. She sometimes liked to hunt too much, and had to take breaks via The Red Horn's supply. She didn't know where they got so much blood, and she didn't care to. They had it, and she bought it.
The barmaid left her to her own devices, as usual. Cynthia's lip curled at the sight of the celery that tainted her drink and tossed it out without bothering to lick the blood off of the vegetable. It repulsed her to put her lips to. She instead raised the glass to her lips and took a deep pull from it, her bright crimson eyes closing with pleasure.
"Ah," she sighed, sniffing the contents of the glass rather than sniff the polluted air of the club itself. After a moment, she placed it back down on the table, half-drained, and sat casually. Drinking too quickly would not be casual. She would enjoy it.
As she raised the glass again to her lips, someone else sat down at her booth. She raised her sharp eyes to them, quirking an eyebrow at their arrival.
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Post by David Tanner on Oct 27, 2008 1:12:02 GMT -5
As soon as David entered the Red Horn, he knew he had made a mistake. From what others had told him, it was a great place to meet other vampires and have a good time. What he did not expect was the strong scent of blood that struck him as he came in. His nostrils flared, and he might have flinched with the intensity of it if it weren't for the eerie reflexes that allowed him to recover from the surprise quickly. It was a good thing he had hunted recently; the temptation to order some of that drink, the contents of which were most certainly not of his diet, was too great. He felt a little overwhelmed, but he was already here. He might as well make the most of it.
There were a lot of vampires here, and he lowered his head self-consciously, his hands sliding into the pockets of his green army jacket. Tanner went out sometimes at night, trying to find others like him. On each of these excursions, his mission was to at least find someone to talk to. He wanted to make friends; it was just hard for him sometimes. Confidence was a trait most vampires had, so when confronted with his shyness, a lot weren't patient enough to deal with it. His eyes roamed the club for a place to sit or a person to talk to. Standing by the door made him feel strangely exposed. There were werewolves and humans here as well, he was surprised to see. It didn't bother him that they were there like it did others; he had no quarrel with anyone. Intimidated by the groups of dancers and the crowd by the bar, he singled out the loners. There was a woman sitting at a table by herself, pretty but tired-looking. She had one of the drinks that smelled so tempting, but he had become very good at controlling his thirst-especially where human blood was concerned.
He made his way toward her table and slid into the booth across from her, not even thinking to ask if the seat was available until she looked up and rose an eyebrow at him. Withdrawing his hands from his pockets, he rested his forearms on the table and tangled his fingers together nervously. "Sorry...um...is this seat taken...?" He gestured at the glass in her hand, asking quietly, "If it's not...can I maybe buy you that drink?" Tanner wasn't trying to hit on her or anything; he just wanted to be nice. It was good for him to get out and talk to people; not long ago, he would never have dared to just strike up a conversation with a stranger.
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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Oct 27, 2008 10:54:54 GMT -5
The blonde vampire set her drink down with a quiet glunk and she eyed the newcomer at her table. The first thing she noticed about him were his eyes: golden eyes. She narrowed her own crimson gaze at him and looked him up and down, scrutinizing his face.
He had a nervous aura about him, even though he was a vampire. What did he have to fear, she wondered. He asked if the table was taken already, and if not, if he could buy her her drink. She could not suppress the quiet chuckle that escaped her lips. She knew she could charm any human male with ease, but a fellow vampire? It was almost shameful; though, she reasoned inwardly, no more shameful than the hue of his eyes, which confessed his self-denial.
No, Cynthia did not approve of 'vegetarians'. They would and could never be human - so why try to be such? Blending in is a necessary evil, but to deny yourself the hunt was just downright wrong! She'd always seen it this way. It wasn't a vampire's fault that they were at the top of the food chain. What is so much less wrong with killing an animal than it is to kill a human? Both are living beings. Both have beating hearts, both have thinking minds; one just happens to taste better and supply more strength than the other.
"It is not taken," She admitted. "But your approach to picking up women is quite tactless, I must say." She was speaking with an air of amusement, a smirk at her lips now. She took the stalk of celery from the tabletop, the one that had originally come with her drink. She offered it to him.
"Fate must have warned me of your arrival. Would the vegetarian like a vegetable to chew? I can get you one that isn't drenched in blood, if you prefer.'
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Post by David Tanner on Oct 28, 2008 13:26:53 GMT -5
He stared back at her as she looked him up and down, acutely aware of the way her crimson eyes studied his own. That was where a lot of his conversations had ended in the past. The way he had chosen was not exactly popular with many of his fellows. His shyness was reinforced as she chuckled at his offer. If it were possible, his cheeks would have coloured in embarrassment. As it were, he sucked in a breath and slowly let it out. It wasn't as if he needed to breathe, but the habit was a hard one to break and it still calmed him to go through the motions.
Her words stung him; she thought he was trying to pick her up. He could have sent back a scathing reply of how self-centered it was of her to believe every man that talked to her was trying to flirt, but he was too nice for that. His words had been misleading, and he had offered to buy a drink. It was his own fault for not trying to articulate better. "Excuse me for the misunderstanding, miss...I was only trying to be polite. I'm looking for conversation...nothing more."
"Fate must have warned me of your arrival. Would the vegetarian like a vegetable to chew? I can get you one that isn't drenched in blood, if you prefer."
Irritatingly, she tried to offer him a celery stalk. Narrowing his eyes, he brazenly took it from her, wiped the blood off on a napkin on the table, and took a bite. If she was going to be rude, he was going to play her game. She probably hadn't expected him to actually take a bite. It crunched satisfyingly between his teeth, but that was the only satisfying thing about the vegetable. These foods held no pleasure or sustenance for him now. "Vegetarian. Mm. Not anymore." He set what was left of the stalk on the napkin and pushed it away. He never understood why they called him a vegetarian. Tell the animal whose breath was cut short by him, whose heart stopped beating with his attack, that he was a vegetarian. He used to be a vegetarian; now he had to kill to eat. It was one of the few things that got under his skin.
Nonetheless, he held out a hand politely. "My name is David Tanner, but most only call me by my surname. I won't...apologize for the life I choose, miss, but...maybe you could stand a little conversation with someone slightly different than you?" His words were polite and quiet, no malice or sarcasm behind them at all. He really wasn't capable of meanness.
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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Oct 29, 2008 0:09:24 GMT -5
Cynthia could not help but feel superior to this man, for he was very reserved and shy. She was quite the opposite. "No need to call me 'miss'," She told him dismissively. "My name's Cynthia, that's what I prefer to be addressed as."
She watched with amusement as Tanner took the celery stalk and munched it, but not before washing the blood off first. Cynthia could not help but smirk triumphantly at this, though she could not deny the act as a whole to be defiant in a way she had not forseen. She smirked at his following comment s he pushed it away, and again she felt triumphant. 'That's what I thought,' she thought.
He now held his hand out to her, and Cynthia was once again surprised by this action. Couldn't he see that she held no interest in him? Wasn't he at all affronted by her sarcasm concerning his personal life? She couldn't believe it. She did not return the hand-shake, but left her hand cradled delicately around her drinking glass.
"I wonder," She mused aloud, her head tilted slightly to the left as she observed this peculiar gentleman. "What could you possibly wish to converse with me about? Human rights? Ethics? Sex, even? I'm not really into submissive vampires such as yourself but you have potential to surprise me."
She was teasing him again, it was obvious. She took pleasure in poking at people's nerves, she sometimes didn't even realize she was doing it. It was habit, honestly. Cynthia had spent so many years as a solitary nomad, that she wasn't very caught-up with manners. The more manners a person had, in fact, the less she seemed to return them.
The barmaid returned at seeing another vampire at the table and asked him if he wanted a drink. It was useless to ask if he wanted anything to eat, of course.
"He might have some dog or cougar or something if you have it," She said sarcastically, though she knew the bar supplied it. "I'll have another Bloody Mary."
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Post by Wes Leer on Oct 29, 2008 0:28:03 GMT -5
It had taken a lot of self-convincing to get Wes out of the house tonight. He enjoyed spending time alone, loved playing with the 'girls' (aka, the dogs), and a basketball game was on TV anyway. But, he had to remind himself, he was also lonely. There was a large part of Wes that resented his unpopularity. Once, in highschool, he had thrived upon his social life. Now, as a twenty-six-year-old ex-soldier, Wes was the complete opposite. A blip on the radar screen. One ant on the ant hill. A spec of dust on a very massive table...
He grabbed a light coat that he knew was only for looks and his car keys. "Don't let me return before midnight," He told the two dogs sternly, who both looked up at him with interest. They seemed to understand, and Wes smiled. "Have a good night, ladies." he told them as he swept from his apartment.
Wes reached the sidewalk and found the night air of L.A to be quite comfortable. He decided to walk to his destination; his car keys were stashed away in his pants pocket.
"The Red Horn," he read aloud as he came upon a night club. The line outside wasn't as long as ones he'd seen in the past, so he decided to see what this place was all about. Wes usually got into these sorts of places for free, since he performed at them with his guitar, but tonight he was Wes. Just Wes. He would wait in line like everyone else. Besides, he'd never played at The Red Horn before, but maybe he'd try to set up a gig tonight. He had never known this place existed; it was so close to where he lived, too!
Once inside, Wes made a quick scan of the room to see what he would want to do first. There were a lot of people here, and again he was surprised to never have heard of this bar before. He took a seat at the bar and smiled as a bartender approached. "Just a Budweiser," he told her, and she dashed off. He could have sworn her eyes were a dull red. Maybe that was a new trend these days? They were very pretty, almost as pretty as the woman herself was. As he looked around some more, Wes came to the realization that almost all of the women here were drop-dead gorgeous. Had he died and gone to babe-heaven? It was insane.
The beer was delivered and Wes drank lazily at it for a minute as he watched the basketball game on a nearby TV that was hanging from the ceiling. He had come here to socialize, but his intimidation at all of the beautiful faces in here was, well, intimidating. It was so much easier to just nonchalantly watch television than to ask one of them to dance. Wes was not a shy man, in fact he is quite the contrary; but confidence can only take you so far when you're surrounded in women whom you know, for fact, are more beautiful than you could fathom. Not only that, he noticed, but some of the men were as well. Was this the beautiful people's club, and he just didn't know yet? He wasn't terrible looking, but damn! How had he gotten in here?
Knowing his luck, all of the women here were either lesbian or taken anyway.
'If it weren't for bad luck,' Wes thought sourly with a swig of beer, 'I would have no luck at all.'
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Post by David Tanner on Oct 29, 2008 1:37:59 GMT -5
The woman's reply was rude, as most of her conversation with him had been, but he only dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Cynthia, then." She seemed amused rather than surprised that he had bitten the celery, and smirked like she had won. It didn't phase him much, though. His initial embarrassment was over, as was her subsequent sneering at his lifestyle, and those were always the worst two obstacles in a conversation.
Offering his hand to her had been a nice gesture, but infinitely stupid. She had not been nice to him at all, and he had been a little naive to think a little politeness would get her to open up some. He let his hand drop to the table and slide back to join its fellow. Lifting up a napkin that was not sullied with the blood from the celery, he began folding it idly into a sailboat as he listened to her words. She was being sarcastic and scathing, and he set the sailboat aside and leaned towards her slightly.
Before he could speak, however, a waitress arrived. Tanner glanced up at her and smiled, completely ignoring Cynthia's jibe. "She's kidding. Thank you, but I'm fine." After she walked away, he leaned forward once more. The word 'submissive' had struck like a knife, but he let it go. If she wanted to judge him, that was fine. She didn't know him as well as she thought. Shyness did not necessarily mean submission.
"It's a long and lonely life we lead, Cynthia. I only look for the interaction we all crave at some point. We can talk about whatever the hell you want, or I can leave your table if I offend you so much." His words were again without challenge or bite. They were, however, the first full sentences he had gotten out to her without stumbling or pausing in embarrassment or shyness. He straightened up, fingering the paper boat he had folded. His memories of his childhood were getting more vague as time went on, but he knew his father had taught him how to do that at a young age. "Maybe I'll surprise you into enjoying talking to me." He smiled slightly at her, teasing her back a little. So she didn't like him. He could deal with that; it would at least make for interesting conversation and some amusing jabs. Something to help pass the endless time.
A new scent hit him, and glanced over to watch a new human enter the club. The man could not stop staring at the women around the bar, and Tanner grinned. He had gotten used to seeing the unearthly beauty of the vampires, and their faces looked normal to him now. It was the humans with their imperfections and frailty that were exotic and beautiful to him. As the man got his beer and turned to watch the game, Tanner returned his full attention to Cynthia.
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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Nov 3, 2008 22:45:44 GMT -5
Cynthia grinned as the barmaid returned, again with supernatural speed, with her drink. She repeated the motion of tossing the celery from the glass, but hesitated before drinking, as David spoke.
"It's a long and lonely life we lead, Cynthia. I only look for the interaction we all crave at some point. We can talk about whatever the hell you want, or I can leave your table if I offend you so much."
'Touche,' She thought with undying amusement. Cynthia swirled the contents of her glass around with her forefinger before sucking it off condescendingly, not taking her eyes off of David all the while. "Don't be silly, Tanner, you are the least offensive person I've met." She told him as if he were being a silly child. "You strike me as a person who would like to be offensive, you know it would be 'cool' to have that ability...but on the reverse, you are too nice to be offensive."
"Maybe I'll surprise you into enjoying talking to me."
"I doubt it," She told him, her smirk widening. "But none the less, I can't kid myself anymore than I can kid you, that I have nothing to do at this doghouse other than get a fix in between hunts. I don't fear conversation with someone of my own kind, even if you're in denial of your own kind," She gestured to his eyes, the eyes all 'vegetarians' wore like a badge of vampiric shame. "We all have the same common interest, even if some choose to ignore that interest. So how were you changed?" She asked the question without a hint of shyness, not caring if it were too bold, too sensitive to ask. If he insisted on sitting here, he could at least make it worth her while by talking about something interesting.
Cynthia did not fear being overheard by mortal ears; vampires had the ability to speak with such speed that only they could hear or even understand what was being said. Of course she would have to slow down and talk about the weather if someone approached, but until then, she would not hesitate to discuss vampire-life.
He looked over his shoulder at a human entering the bar, and she grinned her sharp grin at him. 'Bet you want a bite, don't you?' she asked inwardly. She would have to target that human later, as a secret spite to the vampire across from her. As David looked back into her eyes, she downed half of the contents of her glass, the thick irony taste of blood like a breath of fresh air in the muggy atmosphere of the pub.
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Post by Wes Leer on Nov 4, 2008 15:53:43 GMT -5
Wes had the eerie prickle of eyes on his back, and he turned to sweep the bar with his eyes. They landed on a couple of (unsurprisingly) beautiful people sitting in a booth just behind the bar. There was something ominous about the woman, but the man she kept company with had an air of friendliness about him. Perhaps subconsciously, his instincts already knew what they were, and what their intentions could be.
Wes was not a shy man, despite the intimidating beauty of the people in this place. All he needed was a prod in the right direction; and, well, he was making awkward eye-contact with these people. He might as well do something.
He raised his beer bottle to them as if to say "cheers". He then took a swig and inclined his head, before turning back to the bar. While he was not very shy, he was also not imposing.
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Post by David Tanner on Nov 5, 2008 1:38:20 GMT -5
His eyes flicked to watch the celery bounce away, discarded like so much trash. In some distant memory, he remembered how good it would taste fresh and salted lightly. He returned his gaze to her and watched her slip a blood-slicked finger from her glass and suck the blood off of it. Something primal in him howled, but he was very disciplined and revealed nothing in his face to note his momentary lapse except a slight darkening of his eyes. He hadn't touched human blood in a very long time, and he wouldn't break just because a pretty woman was teasing him. Tanner was stronger than he seemed.
He focused his attention on her words, and how she was talking to him as if chiding a child. His brow furrowed. "It's not 'cool' to be rude." He tilted his head, "Y-You think you've got me all figured out, don't you?" There was a little bit of a stutter, but he was speaking so smoothly that it was hard to notice. She had struck a little bit of a nerve; he was always the 'nice guy', and he could not understand why that title was always spoken with such negativity.
She addressed his feeding choices once more, and he leaned forward to meet her gaze squarely. "I'm going to speak my p-piece on this, and then I'm d-done talking about it. I do not ignore what I am. If I could not accept who I was, I would have found a way to die long ago. I accept who I am, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. My diet is just one way that I can remind myself that I still can control some aspect of my life," His fist thumped his chest gently, where his heart should have been beating. "I may not be the same Tanner I used to b-be, but I'm still Tanner. I'm not some slave to this hunger."
The man he had been glancing at had caught Cynthia's eyes as well, and she gave him a rather animalistic grin. He winced as the man rose his bottle in a salute, willing him not to bring even more attention to his frail self in this place. Cynthia had asked him how he had changed, which was not a very common question in the vampire world. Most didn't like to talk about it much. He leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms. "I was blindsided in an alley. A group of teenagers, of all people, saved me. I guess the one that turned me was afraid of being caught." Shrugging, he extended a hand graciously to her, smiling. "Nothing serendipitous. What about yourself?"
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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Nov 5, 2008 12:10:01 GMT -5
"It's not 'cool' to be rude. Y-You think you've got me all figured out, don't you?"At this, Cynthia grinned. "Of course it's cool. Good? Perhaps not. But definitely cool. I do not have you figured out, I guess, but enough to have a firm understanding." "I'm going to speak my p-piece on this, and then I'm d-done talking about it." said David, and Cynthia reclined casually, to let him know that she was in for the long haul as he broke into his speech. The slight falters in his words let her know that she had gotten a rise out of him, and this made Cynthia feel good indeed. "I do not ignore what I am. If I could not accept who I was, I would have found a way to die long ago. I accept who I am, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. My diet is just one way that I can remind myself that I still can control some aspect of my life. I may not be the same Tanner I used to b-be, but I'm still Tanner. I'm not some slave to this hunger."As he finished, the blonde straightened back up in her seat, in order to chip in her own two cents on the matter. "We're all a slave to hunger, Tanner," she told him. "Humans, Vampires....even Werewolves. Do you really think that denying yourself the proper hunger fitting for your race is going to serve you better? Do you think it will make you any less real? Human blood is simply sustenance. It keeps us thriving; alive, even. We are the hunter, humans happen to be our prey. We are the link in the foodchain that nobody knows about; but nonetheless, we exist. I find what you do to be laughable, because you are like the cougar guilted into rooting for truffles. It is simply unnatural and, most of all, unnecessary. You're depriving yourself when you should be helping yourself. You've got it all backwards, really. You're not a human. There are plenty of them out there; they don't need sparing."And with that, Cynthia downed the remaining contents of her glass and blew David a kiss reeking of iron. It seemed to prove the point; she had not missed the slight flicker in his eyes when she'd relished her glass of blood from before. Further tempting him was now becoming a goal of hers; could she get him to drink human blood, even if it was just one sip? A small determination was brewing in her head. The conversation moved quickly, as is usual with Vampires who have the ability to speak quickly without leaving room for eavesdropping. He told her his brief tale, and then returned the query. It had been a long time since Cynthia had been changed; to be honest, her human memory was quite fuzzy and hard to remember. There were key parts of her mortal life that she would never forget, but never would she be able to recall her childhood, her highschool sweethearts, her first car or her college memories. She didn't hold any personal attachment to her human life, and therefore Cynthia did not feel weird about relating it to others. "I was engaged to be married," she said casually, the last chunk of her life being the only real part that she could remember. "I remember we decided to get married because I was pregnant, and in that time, that sort of thing wasn't acceptable. Anyhow, I also owned my own beauty parlor. It was late when I started walking home, and to make a long story short, I was accosted by, as we both know, a Vampire. Ironically, I was saved by what I am now positive was a Werewolf; its tail was the last thing I saw before waking up as a newborn. My fiance had found me, unfortunately, and had taken me to the hospital during my transformation. Needless to say, I was thirsty when I awoke, and he ended up being my first victim. At the time I was much like you," Cynthia gestured to Tanner with a wave of her empty glass. "Afraid of what I was, ashamed even. I met the Vampire who turned me, he taught me what I was and how to survive, and there you have it. If I had known Vampirism brought such beauty to a person, I would never have needed a beauty parlor." She laughed lightly at the irony that dripped from her story. She chose to leave out the part about her hopeless, unrequited love for Quentin....well, her entire relationship with Quentin altogether. It was none of David's business, and she counted on him not caring enough to ask about it. Surprisingly, the entire conversation between the two of them must not have taken long, because the human she'd just smiled at was now raising his glass at them in a friendly sort of fashion. She grinned again and scooted over on her side of the booth, patted the seat next to her, and waggled her eyebrows. 'Come on, have a seat, Human,' she thought teasingly, her quest to further tempt David becoming more solid in her mind. ------------------------------------ OOC: The idea for bolding speech is good, so I'm using it Also, I would say David reply before Wes...and then Wes can join in. Yipee! And sorry I was so wordy...yeesh. I suck.
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Post by David Tanner on Nov 5, 2008 23:25:07 GMT -5
"I do not have you figured out, I guess, but enough to have a firm understanding."
He chuckled lowly, and shook his head in disbelief, but said nothing in response. It was pointless to argue. She was so sure of herself, and it was obvious he couldn't change her mind with just his words. No matter. He was judged often, and had gotten quite used to it. Although he thought he had made it clear that he didn't want to talk about his diet, Cynthia seemed determined to debate him on it. Respectfully, he listened to her side.
When she stopped, he tried to address the questions fairly. "When I was human, I didn't eat meat. Humans are, by definition, omnivorous. So...was I less of a human because of the choice of my diet?" He wasn't articulating himself very well, and he paused to collect his thoughts. "What I'm trying to say is...is if one thing can sustain me, n-not as well, but still sustain me, and I feel better doing that, well...who are you to tell me it's wrong?" He met her gaze with his own controversial eyes. "Who are you to tell the cougar it's wrong, if it was really happier eating truffles, if it doesn't feel deprived?" His eyes flicked back down to his hands, one of which was picking at the tablecloth.
"You've got it all backwards, really. You're not a human. There are plenty of them out there; they don't need sparing."
For the first time in a long time, he felt a little bit of fire. Setting his palms on the table, he sat up slightly and leaned towards her, eyes hard. His voice was a steely whisper, for the first time showing some anger. "Believe me, Cynthia. I know what I am. I have the power to spare whoever I please." Each word was pronounced clearly and without stutter. His anger had wiped away his nervousness. He dropped back into his seat, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were the usual calm, all his fire gone. "I just...I just feel... A breath, a wave of the hand. No one really has the right to look down on me for trying to squeeze what...comfort out of this life that I can. Not killing humans helps. Nothing can change that...or me. "
She blew a kiss at him, and he breathed in the scent of blood without flinching, without a reaction at all. His little speech had steeled his resolve. Flicking a hand out quickly, he pretended to catch the kiss in midair in his fist. He offered her a smile, teasing her again as he returned pretty quickly to his normal self. "I don't kiss on the first date."
Her own tale sobered him quickly. "You were pregnant?" He asked softly. Then, there was another bomb dropped. She had attacked her own fiance. "Must have been tough." He wanted to reach out to her, to touch her hand in sympathy or do something, but it was obvious she wouldn't appreciate that kind of gesture. He was surprised her attacker had mentored her, so to speak. His own had taken off, and he had never seen him again. Good thing, too. Tanner was not happy about being attacked.
Cynthia suddenly gestured to the man that he should come sit with them, and if Tanner knew anything about human males, the man would probably take her up on the offer. Tanner did know about human males. He used to be one. Giving her a fast look that spoke volumes, he turned back to watch Wes' reaction.
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Post by Wes Leer on Nov 7, 2008 0:38:44 GMT -5
As Wes swiveled back towards the bar, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head back towards the couple, and to his surprise, saw the blonde scoot over in her booth and motion for him to join them. Looking around in a "she must not be gesturing at me" sort of way, he finally rose from the stool; he was the only one currently sitting at the bar.
Wes was not an awkward person so he did not slouch or look down at the floor as most would when approaching. He kept his eye on the red eyes of the blonde, wondering if there was a new fad he was missing out on. He checked the man's eyes, for he had turned to look at him, and noticed they were not crimson but a fantastic shade of gold. He had known a girl in highschool with a color almost like that; so at least he wasn't the only one missing out on the latest red-contact-trend.
"Hello," He said when he approached. Having proper manners, he refused to sit until he was introduced. He swapped his beer bottle from his right hand to his left and held it out. "Name's Wes. What's up?" There was more to his greeting than 'what's up', of course, but more of 'why did you call me over?' It was true that he was glad to have some social interaction at last, since that's what he had come here seeking, but he could not help his curiosity. After a moment, Wes sat down next to the blonde, as she had originally indicated.
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Post by `Cynthia Gage on Nov 11, 2008 16:47:23 GMT -5
"When I was human, I didn't eat meat. Humans are, by definition, omnivorous. So...was I less of a human because of the choice of my diet?" Cynthia laughed humorlessly. Shaking her head, she said, "No wonder you are so eco-friendly. Old habits die hard, I guess. However, there is a flaw in your logic that you refuse to see. Vampires are not omnivorous, nor do we simply get to 'choose' what we eat. Hunting animals is not particularly beneficial for us; humans provide the most strength. The most sustenance. Vampires were built to eat humans. Why feel bad?" she leaned back in her seat to illustrate the care-free manner in which she addressed devouring human flesh.
"Who are you to tell the cougar it's wrong, if it was really happier eating truffles, if it doesn't feel deprived? No one really has the right to look down on me for trying to squeeze what...comfort out of this life that I can. Not killing humans helps. Nothing can change that...or me." Cynthia again had to chuckle at this. The thought of a cougar eating truffles was silly indeed. "Nature tells the cougar it's wrong. It's digestive system tells it it's wrong. It won't be happy for long; it'll soon die from malnourishment. But," she added before argument could spring, "it is a conversation for another day."
At this, Cynthia looked up with much-put-on interest at the human that was approaching. When he held out his hand, she took it enthusiastically, her fangs instantly spitting venom at the very touch. She swallowed it as she addressed him. "Well how nice it is to meet you, Wesley! I may call you Wesley, can't I? It sounds nicer to me."
He sat down next to her, and she flashed her eyes mischievously at Tanner before turning again to Wes. "My friend and I were just sharing a drink in our conversation, we encountered a difference of opinion. I was wondering if you could help settle it for me?" She grinned wickedly at him, continuing before he could answer. Of course he would say yes! Human curiosity was very strong indeed. "We were debating the ethics of vegetarianism. You see, I think it's perfectly okay to eat meat. It's in our instincts, is it not? I say it's simply natural, a part of the circle of life; the food chain, if you will. Would you agree, or do you think it's wrong to slaughter poor, innocent animals simply because they are unable to defend themselves against us?"
OOC: Next post could probably be Tanner and then Wes. :]
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Post by David Tanner on Nov 11, 2008 23:48:48 GMT -5
Okay, so using the cougar metaphor she had spoken and trying to turn it around on her had been a bad idea. He wanted to keep defending his position, but she had said it would be a conversation for another day. So that meant the conversation was over. He shrugged, crossing his arms. "I'll hold you to that, Cynthia." He warned, but he was aware at the same time that they would probably never cross paths again. She obviously didn't like his kind.
The man approached, as predicted, and he once again sent Cynthia a look, shaking his head a little bit in disbelief. Wes introduced himself, and Tanner obligingly reached across the table to shake his hand. "Good to meet you, Wes. You can call me Tanner." He wasn't shy around Wes, and his words were perfectly articulated. He was too worried for the other man's well-being.
Cynthia simpered and flirted, and the muscles in Tanner's forearms resting on the table tensed as he clenched his fists. This was giving him a bad feeling. She seemed to have some plan, and it definitely involved Tanner. The little segue she made into their conversation, the innocent way she spoke about it making it all the more sinister, proved to him that she was just playing with Wes.
"Would you agree, or do you think it's wrong to slaughter poor, innocent animals simply because they are unable to defend themselves against us?"
He laughed, one hand rubbing his eyes. "Really, Cynthia?" The words were fast, mixed in masterfully with his laughter so as to disguise the words from Wes. This was unbelievable, but he couldn't say anything to give them away. His eyes turned to Wes, eyebrows raised as he awaited the response. This was amusing, for the moment, but it could so easily turn badly. He was a little on edge.
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