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Post by rina on Mar 22, 2011 18:45:24 GMT -5
 
“You. Whatever your name is. If you don’t stop staring at my butt, I’m going to introduce my foot to your face.” The words came out dripping in sweetness, causing a shocked gasp to surge through the surrounding crowd like a wave. A conservative man in a business suit looked shocked, scandalized and as quickly as his eyes had locked themselves onto a derriere in front of him, found something else to focus his attention on.
Standing with her chin held high, Rina Dernerovich pretended not to hear the shrill whispers swirling around her. Was it her fault that when a guy stares THAT noticeable at a woman, the little hairs on the back of her neck stands up? She absolutely hated making herself stand out in a crowd, preferring to keep what little anonymity that she could get with her big mouth…but having her butt catalogued in some sick guy’s mind just made her see red. Because that’s all that her gender was good for, wasn’t it? Sex. Sex, sex, sex. The mere thought made a severe frown pull at her lips, making a smartly dressed woman at the subway door take a small step back in fear.
Good. Fear made a person smart, and right now, the smart thing to do was to ignore all of the other public transportation slobs and mind her own business. Sometimes, it was really a wonder why she didn’t buy a house somewhere on the ass end of nowhere and stay lost…or ignore the strange urge to ‘find her roots’ and pretend to be normal.
The next time she had to take a night out on the town, she was going to go with the limo and LIKE it. Gah.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she ignored the others and focused on the whir of the buildings around them, as the bus twisted and turned around the traffic on the road. She was heading downtown, to a part of the city that she’d never been before. It was a bit too dirty for her; she preferred to remain in the gilded, shining walls of her hotel, than slum around on the city streets with those who frequented the nightlife.
But today…today was different. Today, she’d received word about a special type of man roaming her city streets; a man that she would have to find. He had something she wanted, information she needed, and he would give it to her. Or die.
Finally, after an eternity of listening to the echoes of a teenager’s loud music and feeling those curious eyes on her body, she quickly slid out of the bus and made her way down the street. Her heels made loud clacking sounds as she weaved around her fellow pedestrians and a sigh of utter relief escaped her when she spotted the familiar sign of a bookstore; her destination.
It hadn’t changed in the fifty years that she’d been there, she thought, a fond smile on her face. She remembered a time when the city was rich and clean; when that store was hopping with people eager to lose themselves in a good read. But as times changed and society with it, the poor building became as rundown as the people living around it. It was drooping, dark, decaying…
And so utterly cliché to be housing one of the continent’s most knowledgeable vampires. God, if he was wearing a cloak in there, she’d stake him herself.
Pushing open the door, she strode inside. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of must and mold, and she grimaced at the loud clang of the door chime above her head. Squaring her shoulders, she marched into the store and looked around, peering into various aisles and nooks, in search of her target.
Please, let him be cooperative, she thought, frowning as desperation clawed at her chest. Please don’t make me kill him.
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Post by Eryk Allewell on Mar 23, 2011 8:55:10 GMT -5
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Eryk very rarely felt at home anywhere, not that he had felt at home for a very long time, but bookstores, especially these old dusty ones, were certainly a start. Amongst tomes that were long forgotten by the modern world, Eryk almost felt as if amongst family, more so at least than he ever did amongst those of his own kind. Though he was far from unknown amongst vampires, given his somewhat gruesome history, for the past century at least he had chosen to have little to do with his own kind, with their ways, and had taken to a somewhat isolated and nomadic existence – a practice he was breaking only recently to enable the repayment of debt, though even that reason was slowly changing, becoming less to do with the vampires pride, and everything to do with a certain girls smile.
Lifting a hand, Eryk pulled from the shelf an old, battered and obviously abused volume and let it fall open within his palm, flicking through the old yellowed pages gently with his fingers. Given his last experience with old books, he was somewhat cautious with this one at first until he was quite sure he was not about to spend the next few days trapped within the Disney version of ‘sleeping beauty’, and soon found himself sat in an old and cracked leather chair. “The Romaunt of the Rose” was one he had read before, a long time ago, but the memory of which brought a smile to the man’s lips as his eyes skimmed the familiar words that decorated the page. The last time he had read this of course, it had been to Eloise, and though the smile remained, the vampires eyes were tinged with a sadness not many could would ever understand.
Though not normally the practice in bookstores, Eryk was left to read the volume in peace; he often frequented this particular store and had come to an understanding with the owner that allowed Eryk to simply to sit and read when he wished for as long as he so desired be it within the shops open hours so long as he did not distract other customers, and continued to pay the owner for his discretion. It was a deal that worked well for both of them, and Eryk often found himself amongst the bookcases, simply reading. It was one of the few things that still brought the man pleasure in a life that he deemed to have gone on for far too long.
And thus the aged vampire sat with the book open on his knee, scanning the word and revelling in the memories of a time, though not belonging to the manuscript itself but of which it reminded him, he adored but was now long forgotten by modern society and fiddling with the golden wedding band he wore on his finger.
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Post by rina on Mar 25, 2011 21:04:00 GMT -5
Good Lord, this place was disgusting. Moving down the aisles and stepping over a few piles of books dumped wherever its owner left them, Rina felt the urge to call in a cleaning crew…or, heck, arm herself with Windex herself! She knew that some found these kinds of stores appealing; all of the history, the things that the walls had seen and blah, blah. But to her? A survivor of the Industrial Age and all that followed after it?
The place made her think of the sweathouses that her father owned, and the soot-filled houses of the poor that she’d visited during her philanthropic years. And given that she refused to think about the past and all that had happened, she was REALLY looking forward to finding her man and getting the hell out of there.
…Well, that and not getting eaten by the world’s largest spider. While she’d been trying to appear regal and composed when all she wanted to do was attack the dust and grime around her, she lost all appearances when a big, fat black spider practically careened toward her face. With a scream that would later make her hang her head in shame, she ducked, covered her face and jerked around a bookcase, only to careen right into someone who was currently sitting there.
The poor man. He really didn’t have to deal with a freaked out vampire, who had just went eyeball to many-eyeballs with one of two things on the planet that made her squirm. As she went toppling into his lap, the only thoughts that came to mind were; ‘ow, there’s a book digging into my left kidney,’ and ‘OH MY GOD, ARACHNA-ZILLA! IT’S GONNA GET ME!’ If it wasn’t for the fact that she was now face down with her middle sprawled in the poor man’s lap, she would probably have attempted to climb him, in an attempt to get away from the ‘monstrous’ arachnid.
”Oh my GAH, I hate those things!” She exclaimed. Her brain was still stuck on that round, hairy body and without thinking, immediately scrambled to her knees and put the stranger between her and the end of the aisle. She was sure that the spider was going to come crawling after her, like it was out of some really bad horror movie and practically smooshed her face into the man’s shoulder. ”Stupid spiders! They’re all hairy and…BLECH! Why in God’s name is this place still standing?! I…ah…um…poop.”
There was an obvious energy-saving light bulb that was slowly heating up above her head, as she realized what she was doing. With a little gasp of horror that escaped her as she immediately released whoever she was holding onto and scooted back from him. Her cheeks practically blasted with embarrassed heat, and she grimaced.
”I’m so, so sorry,” She said, mortified at herself. ”I didn’t mean to…there was this huge spider...drat, please excuse my behavior, Sir. I’m just going to…DRAT, I’m sorry.”
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Post by Eryk Allewell on Mar 28, 2011 15:48:02 GMT -5
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Being one such person who appreciated the timelessness of books and the history safely maintained within their bounds, Eryk was not a man who coped well with, nor liked surprises. For the vampire, surprises had only ever left him in large pile of metaphorical faecal matter, and often a bad taste in his mouth. So, i would leave it to the imagination when it comes to picturing Eryk’s face when he found a somewhat hysterical woman straddled across the dark fabric of his jeans. An insight into the normally calm and collected vampires mind may well help; it screamed something along the lines of
“AAARRRGGGGHHHH THERES A WOMAN IN MY LAP! GETHEROFFGETHEROFFGETHEROFF”
Blinking, Eryk brought his facial features and his need to leap from his seated position and topple the woman to the floor under control, even if his brainwaves and thoughts were yet to catch up with the vampires trained outwards appearence. Growing when he had certainly held some perks within modern society, even if the blondes current predicament brought the old fashioned language he might normally abandon back to his lips with a vengeance.
”M’am – I trust thee to be of sound mind? If indeed it is an arachnid that has caused such a disruption to your mentality, t’would be of no large inconvenience to remove it from thine’s vision?” He asked once she had removed herself from his lap and apparently disappeared somewhere behind him. Finding his feet along with the sense of calm the vampire prided himself on now that a member of the opposite sex had removed herself from such close proximity to his rather more unmentionable regions, Eryk’s eyes scanned the aisle for said offensive insect, though her screaming, or at least her reaction seemed to have sent the creature scuttling for the safety of its web.
Turning then, he dipped at the waist and offered his hand to the woman on the floor with a small tilt of his lips. ”I assure thee, thy assailant has run for the safety of darkness – though if it again decides to be of a nuisance, i would recommend a rolled up newspaper, rather than a small trip into a mans surprised lap. Not all would take it as well as I...” his words though serious in sound thanks to Eryk’s Southern English accent and the aged properties of his words, were teasing in tone as he helped the lady to her feet.
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Post by rina on Mar 28, 2011 19:18:05 GMT -5
Oh good GOD in Heaven, she was about to explode…or sink into the floor and die. Her face was a sauna, her eyes were getting that pinched, anxiety-look and she just knew that her hair was standing on end, thanks to her run in with the static electricity on his coat. She probably looked as crazy as she’d just seemed, and any moment now, the nice man playing solid barrier between her and the crazy-large spider at the end of the aisle was going to run away screaming. Or, better yet, call the police on her; that’s exactly what she needed right then. The night had been planned to become a very nice and easy information gathering expedition; she was going to go in, find her vampire, maybe beat on him a little then leave with what she wanted to know. It was supposed to be a normal ending to a normal day. It was supposed to be businesslike and proper.
And yet, there she was; wishing that she could rewind the past two minutes and pretend that she hadn’t just gotten friendly with a complete stranger’s manly place. If her mother could see her now…
The poor, poor man. While she was completely content to think about her own mental problems, she had to wonder what was going through his mind. For all of the shock plainly visible on his face, he seemed to be taking everything in stride. When he hadn’t dumped her off his lap, or pulled his jacket away from her grasping hands, she’d had a healthy dose of surprise herself. What, was he waiting for her to strip naked, or something? Or was he going to use the little ‘episode’ as a future pickup?
If he did, he was going to be missing a testicle soon, that was all she had to say. Good gah, she was already embarrassed enough; if he tried hitting on her now, she might lose all semblance of her cool and really show him what ‘wigging out’ really means.
Then he had to go and start talking, thus ruining her plans to come up with some kind of intricate torture if he turned out to be a perv. Did he just incorporate ‘thee’ and ‘thine’ into his sentence? Either he was a really involved English Literature professor/student, or there was something mentally wrong up there. Hey, maybe that was why he didn’t freak out; her show of arachnophobia was nothing compared to his daily dose of LaLa Land!
…What? A girl could hope.
Before she could answer his initial question, Rina looked up to find herself staring at his fingers and with a martyred sigh, accepted his help up. When he mentioned his lap, she physically cringed, immediately letting go in favor of taking a step back. Good Lord, how long had it been since she’d actually felt nervous enough to play with the hem of her shirt? It was like she was 16 again and got caught trying to kiss the stable boy while Father was in town.
”I’m so, so sorry for that, Sir,” She said, obvious mortification in her voice. ”I’m just not used to spiders jumping out at me from around dark corners, and then you were just sitting in the middle of the aisle…drat, I am very sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” A little thought began to worm its way into her mind, and some of the blush lifted from her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes, studying his face. ”I have to say…that’s a very unusual speech pattern you have there. Is that a form of Old English?”
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Post by Eryk Allewell on Mar 31, 2011 10:24:07 GMT -5
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Keep calm and carry on, the motto of a generation that the current youth seemed to enjoy printing on their t-shirts and handbags, but needless it was one that Eryk had been raised to model his behaviour around this very ideal, if not the motto itself, and it was this reason that his outward calm maintained its place upon his features even where his mental state had been somewhat thrown for a loop after her little tumble. Still, stiff upper lip and what not, now the young woman had successfully found her feet and regained her poise, Eryk simply smiled and stooped to pick up his book from the floor, checking the pages for damage.
Eryk paid little mind to her awkward stance or composure, something he had never really done in fact. He paid little if any attention to women at all, and during random moments of conversation with people he had at points called friends, had had his red blooded maleness come into question on more than one occasion. He had never understood the modern pursuit of women, and much proffered his own solitude to the company of many he might come across.
Wiping his hands across the cover, eryk was all ready to make his excuses and leave this young woman to her devices when she started asking him questions. Ah. Yes. He sometimes forgot how strange he could sound, but luckily Thalia had helped the vampire come up with an explanation that suited not only his accent and attire, but also his modes of speech without directly coming out and proclaiming to the world that he was a 236 year old vampire, so please do excuse him if he sometimes slipped into a language deemed somewhat past it by this worlds own laws.
”Ah, worry not. Twas mine own fault for choosing to sit in such a place that might cause obstruction for someone fleeing an eight legged assailant. But i assure thee. No harm has befallen mine person, and I hope thee can say as much for thineself.” Eryk, could, if so chose, revert into language more suited to this time period, but he sort of required to maintain his roots in order for this plot to work.
”Indeed. Thee has a keen ear.”The vampire smiled, tucking the book beneath his arm. ”I Work with a band of travelling playsmen, actors, and we are currently working on a piece by the master playwright himself, Shakespeare, and i find it much easier to simply maintain that form of speech and stay in character, rather than switch between the two. Though if it displeases thee, it would be no great upheaval to talk in a rather more modern form. ”
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Post by rina on Apr 9, 2011 21:48:15 GMT -5
Bah, she wasn’t going to be able to look this guy in the eyes, was she? Biting back the urge to fidget, Rina forced herself to meet his eyes and keep them there. She was over a century old and this one couldn’t be more than twenty…unless he was her man. Damn, but sometimes she really wished those of her kind had some kind of tell. Maybe a special tattoo in a highly visible place, or some kind of ‘hi, my name is ___ and I suck blood to stay alive!’ nametag on their person.
But no, she was stuck trying to decide if she were talking to a vampire, or an ‘emo kid’ half the time. She’d have thought that her radar would be fully honed by now, but nooo…she was the only blood sucker on the continent who thought everyone was naturally beautiful.
Because, of course, this guy had to be. Was it some kind of unsaid law; all of the men around there had to be either young and handsome, or old and handsome? So far, since her hotel had opened and she’d played the hermit with the surrounding city, all she’d managed to see were the ‘hot’ masses. And this one was no exception.
…And she’d just been face-down in his happy place. Yeah, she was never going to be able to really look at him in the eyes again…
Trying not to cringe too much at the ‘eight legged assailant’ part of his apology, Rina couldn’t help but chuckle. He was a suave little booger, if he wasn’t her vampire; that was for sure. At his explanation, she narrowed his eyes a bit and looked him over.
”A traveling playsman guild? It’s been years since I’ve ran into anyone in your profession. Pity…I thought perhaps you were someone I was looking for. He goes by the name of Eryk…do you know him?”
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Post by Eryk Allewell on Apr 15, 2011 5:28:20 GMT -5
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Eryk was surprised that she was looking for him, a fact given away by the fleeting rise of his eyebrows and the inquisitive way he looked at her. Eryks moss coloured eyes appraised the woman stood before him. Whereas her thoughts dwelled on her recent trip into his lap, being a gentleman the aged vampire had already forgotten. There were some benefits in living a long life – mostly in that such insignificant things held his attention only as long as it took to live them but even so, the matter of her seeking him out held the greater part of his attention.
Turning his attention to the bookcase, Eryk ran a finger over the spines of the books before slipping his own volume back into place. He had a feeling that he was not about to get a moment any time in the immediate future to read it now. ”Well, m’lady. You seem to have caught me at somewhat of a disadvantage.” He said, turning once more to look at her, the vampire put his hands in his pockets. A relaxed position perhaps, but he wasn’t afraid of the woman in front of him. It was kind of hard to be scared of her now that he had seen her running in terror from a small spider after all.
”You see, Thy knows of mine own name, but I have no knowledge of yours.” he offered her a small smile, a hand that he lifted from the pocket of his jeans and held out for her. ”Eryk Allewell. How may i be of service?” He had no idea of course, that the vampire standing across from him could quite easily beat him to a pulp – if he did, he might have been a little less forward with his hand offering.
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