She handed the clip board back to Scar who was clearly very busy and nodded in approval of her service. She left a large sum of money on the bar, enough to compensate the bottle of vodka and a tip. She took the bottle with her and excused herself, drinking straight from it now as her hips swayed and she made her way around the place, getting a glimpse of its architecture. It was a beautiful and cozy place. Aurora seated herself where she could simply observe the others. She had the bottle in hand and her curvey figure faded into the background, blue eyes following the patrons.
She'd applied for a job on the paper as well, which she'd supposed she'd need an interview for. That's okay. She breezed through these. Aurora's hair cascaded down her figure, resting finally on the chair for which she sat. Her shirt was unbuttoned enough to show some cleavage. She brought the bottle to her mouth and contemplated what could have drawn her to go straight. This was no proverbial crossroads...she'd been running for a long time and maybe the great mother was telling her it was time to settle.
Vetis had turned to face the fireplace unsure if he should stay or leave. Demons were mostly the solo type of being, you never really saw them in a group unless they were working a job or well wreaking a ton of havoc; which- oddly enough- was rare these days. Icy eyes stared at the fire and it even gave him a comforting feeling. What he hadn't expected however was her presence slowly approaching behind him, but then again he didn't really know that she was the owner in the first place.
You see having a vessel was one thing but sometimes if you were powerful enough you wouldn't even be recognizable behind the meat suit. Demons would be able to point each other out but identity was another game, more or less that would be the case with him. Demons were like fine wine after all and the older they were came with the sweet sensation of more power, obvious really. Vetis was an elder demon, and took command under Baal just as his other brothers and sisters did. Chenor, Barbiel, Lahad, and so many countless others. Hell, even Lucifer was not only his brother but worked ranks just as he did. Odd if you thought about it that way though.
“Bonsoir, monsieur, What can I get you?” The woman asked and slowly he turned to face her, sapphire eyes quickly giving her the once over, hooking the silver handle of his cane on the arm of the chair as he did so. Her vessel was unfamiliar to him but her aura looked familiar. Yes, even demons had an aura in one sense or another, despite most being soulless there was a way to identify them. Pale lips turned into a charming smile and he bowed his head slightly in a gesture of thanks; dark brown hair bouncing softly as he did so.
"... Mademoiselle." He acknowledged, wondering what it was the he could order. Alcohol was the commonplace beverage for an inn like such right? He tilted his head slightly looking back at the wine rack by the bar past a few other occupants then averted his attention back to the woman-rather demon- before him.
"Whatever your favorite is." He said softly, a thick posh English accent flowed over his lips like dark rum surprising him slightly. Vetis actually hadn't heard the voice of his vessel yet, let alone delved into the mind of soul he had locked away, it was amusing every time he took over a meat suit really. The woman before him would understand surely. Running a gloved hand through his bangs he gestured to the seat across from him, genuinely curious about her and possibly even able to get some Intel from the unique inn he found himself drawn to.
"Perhaps your company is on the menu?" Vetis asked smoothly and despite his slightly cold looking features, one couldn't argue he looked like an interesting bloke.
Light and proper fingertips went to screw the cap back into the bottle that held the strong Irish whiskey. With half of it poured out into the side of the establishment, wetting the ground beneath her, she made certain to stay clear of any of Letty’s fine roses. Walking back, she thought of the last time she was here. An entirely different person who trusted no one and was just freshly on the run. This was the very place she met him, her now boyfriend. Though, back then he had drugged her, kidnapped her, and made her stay with him. Funny of, in turn, he had ended up saving her ten times over. Since that time, he had given her hope, affection, and what she was hoping to be true love. Hell, he already saved her life twice. Once from an assassination attempt and another from a sick joke nature pulled on her from just a running accident.
Looking back, toggling through memories, only made her miss him more so. The beating heart within her chest fell lightly, the beats growing slower, as she sighed and moved around the corner, back to the front of the establishment. Once there, she paused, seeing the two men. Silently, she surpassed them and made her way in. What people failed to realize about the ‘traveling artist’ was that she always held a weapon on her. The question was always the ‘what kind’ and ‘where did she put it this time’. A lovely little trick she learned from her childhood.
Katarina pressed back into the establishment and took a seat at the less crowded end of the bar. To many people wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Truth was, people were more hesitant to start something when there was a crowd surrounding them. Well, maybe the less vindictive ones were. The dark haired beauty simply took a along the stool and reached into her jacket pocket where her cell phone would have been. Old habits die hard. Tyrell had even removed her cell phone from her belongings. She wasn’t to silently curse him but the worry she felt for him, his well being, made it all to impossible for her to even be the slightest mad at him.
Whatever your favorite is. Luckily for Scarlett it would appear that he might get a kick off the same expensive wines as she did, though appearances often lied.
She nodded, a graceful ducking of her head before turning and moving back to the bar, grey suede heels tapping eloquently along the dark, hardwood floors as she rounded the bar and collected a fresh bottle of wine – a lovely Pinot Noir, 1932 Clos De Vougeot, running at $150 or so a bottle – and returning to where he was settled by the fire with her cigarettes, two crystal glasses and a corkscrew. The bottle was opened and set on the table between the two winged chairs as she lowered herself down onto the one cockeyed from his, leaning back against its surface and crossing one leg over the other in a very ladylike fashion, leather, knee length skirt rustling softly. As the wine breathed, releasing a pungent, fruity bouquet into the air, Scarlett turned her eyes on the high class demon before her.
She had no idea what he was, only that he was by no means a creature of the light.
“What brings you this way, monsieur?” She asked, brushing fingers down the soft, pliable cotton of her grey skirt to smooth it free of inevitable wrinkles before her fingers extracted one slender Misty Menthol from the pack in hand, pressed the thin filter between her lips and a green zippo ignited the cherry, flame eating away immediately at the paper and dried tobacco.
The wine was poured, each crystal bowl a quarter way tinted with dark rose madder liquid, so red it was nearly purple.
With the pleasantries done with the old bouncer left Sydney to himself by the entrance. The trickle was now a steady flow of people popping in. By the time the vampire sat back down at his seat, careful to slip by people moving around and walking in, the man found the Englishwoman asking for his name not there. In her place lay a her payment along with a nice tip. The Irishwoman who'd left with her vice was back and sitting at the sparse end of the stools.
The silent conversation the two had with their eyes left the bloodsucker wary of the stranger, no doubt the same thoughts in his mind were in the woman's. For now he would keep back for he had bigger fish to try. Not far from him was the giant of a man who from the vampire's gut instinct wasn't as fond of him as the Englishwoman was. At least she had asked for his name before retreating and on that note Sydney rose again. Just exactly why had the woman asked for his name?
Needing the answer to his question the vampire walked over to where the woman was keeping to herself. "Hello." The man said in that southern accent of his before giving a small smile, careful of course to keep his fangs from showing too much.
Irys looked at her and smiled. Its been so long since he heard her voice. Soothing to his ears, like a song played from the piano. It still felt great being back here. He was really gone for too long. Not that anyone really seem to notice. But the welcome felt nice. Irys leaned forward a little bit glancing around before taking a deep breath and spoke. "Food please and a glass of water. So how have you been young lady?"
Irys turned to Syd and grinned at him." I was the old bartender/ bouncer. You was partialy right my old friend."Irys spoke laughing a bit. Still trying to get use to not wearing his armor.
Her silent thoughts had taken her into a deeper trance then what she had assumed it would. This whole being with him, feeling the emotions she kept for him, had her far from the focus she needed to be at. The taller man began to come closer to her. From there, she was able to pick up details that she had lacked before. Her head was completely out of the game. He wore a cowboy hat, the attire to match. Surely, he was American, or he just enjoyed westernly fashions. Her mere frame of five foot three inches began to slouch more so on purpose. Her up bringing taught her to never slouch so, doing so, actually caused her lithe frame to grow sore. Still, she held the position and turned her attention towards the nearing man. Offering him a light smile. Luckily, his hello brought her to remember the fake accent she had to press.
Luckily, his attention was turned towards another. The other dark haired woman who mentioned whistle wetting. My, how silly she would have appeared speaking back to him. Her once lacking focus completely returned. Her piercing blue orbs quickly glanced from one being to the next, something she normally did upon first entering a place. In that mere second, she had taken in Letty, the bar’s owner and a secret friend of hers, the man Letty was speaking with, and the other surrounding beings that lingered in and out of the bar’s area. Being solely human left her without the ability to sense what one being was to the other. She had her assumptions as to what some of them were but, mentioning such, would just be rude.
Her fingertips lingering along the bottle in front of her, fidgeting with it as if it was of interest to her. Truth was, she couldn’t wait to tell Tyrell about the horrible drink she had to consume just to keep up appearance. Speaking of, she opened the bottle again and, in placing the glass rim to her lips, she tipped the bottle back and took another chug of it. Again, that cruel dark and unsmooth liquid rushed through her body. Warming her, yes, but also making her insides burn where as her beloved Russian Vodka wouldn't dare to touch.
Aurora was taken aback by the man's appearance right in front of her. She sipped her bottle, finishing it, her cheeks flushed pink. She croaked back to the man, "Hello..." and a few coughs followed. "Can I help you?" She spoke, putting the bottle down and resting her face on her two hands, elbows resting on her knees. She looked up at him, blinking her blue eyes innocently. She cracked a small smile and pretended that she wasn't up to anything...mischievious. She kept eye contact with the man and waited for his response patiently as she simply stared up at him, not removing herself from her chair.
As Irys was waiting for everyone, he looked and around the bar. Noticing the piano he used to play. He stood up, standing about 6'10" since his change. He walked around the bar and grabbed a glass of water and then made his way over to the piano and sat down once again. He flipped through the music book and found something new and interesting to him. Irys began to play the song, he took a deep breath relaxing himself as he played on.
Irys listen to the music as the notes play, the song was very soothing and relaxing. He was surprise he could still play as good. It had been so long since he last played at this place. He continued on as if he knew this by heart. Adding some notes to it to suit his memory.
"You asked for my name ma'am. I was wonderin' if I could get yours." He answered. Before their conversation could even start the man raised a hand in indication of a pause. The old employee named Irys had been ignored by accident. Backtracking the vampire moved over to the man as he played piano and spoke. "Sorry about that, didn't hear you over the drone of the conversations." The man said before turning to look at the current situation with the bar. "Now that I know you were also a bartender may you please make sure people get their drinks? Miss Rose seems to be with a gentleman caller at the moment." Quite the outdated term Sydney used but hey he rolled like that. "By the way could you play Dixie for me?" The vampire said before laughing. "I'm just ******** with you." The ambiance Irys had put with his music was a better fit.
Saying adieu to the tall man Sydney walked back over to the hopefully still waiting woman. "Sorry about that." The vampire would say as he cast his tall frame over the sitting woman once more. "Just a little chit chat to an old friend." The man said as his attention was back on the woman. "So where were we? Oh yes." A chuckle came from his baritone voice. "Your name is?" The bloodsucker asked before his own blue eyes moved down to the bottle. Maybe asking if she wanted another drink would've been a better icebreaker.
Irys laughed a bit and shook his head to Sydney's comment. He countinued playing for a few more minutes before stopping. He looked over to Sydney and spoke."I'll do what I can to help. And I don't really play southern. Not on a piano, maybe a violin. Later though."
Irys walked over to the bar and got things ready. He took a deep breath and spoke out to those in the bar."Who has what for drinks?" Irys waited a few moments for people to answer him. He made himself something special to help relax his nerves. He help manage the Infinity Lounge with drinks, so he never lost his skills as a bartender.
Vetis smiled as the woman walked away cigarette in one hand as she grabbed what what an obviously expensive bottle from the top of the wine rack and two glasses. So she would keep him company for the moment eh? Well that was something this vessel was good at, he hadn't really seen himself very well other than his clothes, but he felt like a million bucks. Folding leather gloved hands over his lap he leaned back in the seat watching as the woman took the seat next to him. Smoking was an interesting habit he noticed that many human vessels he possessed had picked up over the years. It wasn't the greatest feeling when using the meat suit, and he wondered often why people did it. Of course there were much worse things he supposed like gnawing on human bones in Hell which equaled nasty splinters, or rolling in charred blood that scarred the skin; heck even sharpening claws on the souls of the unforgivable wasn't exactly seen as great 'etiquette' but what even was etiquette as a demon.
As she sat down he smiled again, a graceful nod of thanks as she uncorked the bottle and allowed it to breathe, the heady scent of fruit and flowers aerated the general vicinity of their table which he found quite enjoyable. Sapphire eyes watched as she lit the cigarette, white paper bursting into a red cherry at the tip before slowly eating away at the stick before she took a hit and then asked. What brought him here? Well, if he was honest he wasn't quite sure. One moment he was in a city possessing this poor b*****d and the next he found himself following the intense light of another faith filled soul. Though now he would have to track it down with other means of course, but at the moment he wasn't here for work he was here to play.
"I followed my instinct you could say." He said softly, an elegant hand reaching for a glass before holding it up to hers clinking it softly at the rim creating the smallest of chimes.
"To ...good fortune." Vetis sated slowly unsure of why he had even said it in the first place. Lies were easy to come by, but he sometimes didn't even understand the words that came out of his mouth. Maybe it was the vessel's soul more then it was him? Vetis wasn't sure all the inner workings despite how long he had been in the field, but he didn't bother questioning it. Instead he took a sip from the wine, enjoying the very subtle but sweet flavor of fruit and flower on his tongue, it was a very dry wine of course and extremely smooth; the dark red liquid gliding over his skilled tongue before being swallowed. Setting the glass down but fingers never leaving the glass stem he tilted his head curiously at her and returned a question.
"What brings you to this kind of business, if you don't mind me asking" He inquired obviously the question had more then one answer depending on what path she decided to go down. Vetis did know what she was, but he didn't yet understand who, let alone why.
Aurora watched as he held his hand up, her mouth closing in response and he ventured off. She waited for him to return then openned her plump rosey lips once more to speak. "Aurora. My name is Aurora." She was breaking her neck looking up at this man. Not only did he tower over her while standing, but now she was sitting. Her eyes wandered around worried for a minute, knowing what he was, then turned back to him. "I'm sorry I didn't offer it...I thought I'd let you enjoy your.." she gulped, almost gagging, "...meal..." She sat up straight now, her chest puffed out a bit due to her rolled back shoulders and impeccable posture. "You're a southern man aren't you?" She asked another question, prying once more. She'd been in America a while now and had picked up on the different accents. She was actually a Swedish girl, who'd moved to London in her mid teen years. She migrated when people found out about her little...sercret. She didn't like pitch forks or burning pikes or pires. She gently played with the talisman around her neck, which was in the form of a cameo knecklace.
Red curls spilled down over her shoulder, tumbling to lay along her collarbone as she cocked an eyebrow at his words, but lifted her own glass to meet the rim of his, the pure crystal ringing true and clear in the otherwise static of conversation and piano. The wine was brought to her lips, and Scarlett nearly purred at the taste, eyes closing as she enjoyed the dry, yet satisfactory blend of fruit and floral that teased her palate and her nose, a soft hum of appreciation ushering from between her full, slightly parted lips. As he spoke again, Scarlett flipped emerald green open and her lips parted open in a quiet chuckle.
“Good fortune.” She repeated with a light nod of agreement, eyes sweeping to encompass the room once more. “We certainly have an abundance of that here.”
Her slowly smoldering cigarette was returned to her lips, inhaled on, lowered and snuffed out as menthol smoke was blown up and to the side where it dissipated towards the ceiling. She had to laugh at his inquiry, however, her cheeks brightening and eyes sparkling as she lowered her wine to prevent it spilling, leaning forward with her arms placed elbow to knee, watching him more closely, emerald burrowing into sapphire as though she could unbury his secrets with that simple action. “Why not have a business like this? Plenty of opportunities to meet new people, and of course, it’s much more private this far away from the world. My roses thrive better here.” Her chin tilted towards the doorway at the back of the bar that led through to the kitchen and further out into the back yard where her absolute massive rose garden lay.
“Other than that, there are no further establishments this far out from society, and I figured someone needed to have a way station available.” The better to hunt and eat you with, my dear…
No, her answers weren’t one hundred percent genuine, but with her soft, intimate smiles, the occasional persuasive flutter of her eyelashes, and the practiced tilt of her head or flutter of her fingers as she spoke, Scarlett’s ruse would hold up well under scrutiny, at least, if he was as dazzled by her good looks and killer pheromones as most other men were. Scarlett’s pheromones came by way of air or touch with the distinctive scent of old fashioned, English roses, harder to detect with the large garden out back than without, but they usually had effect over any physical body that had even the smallest sexual drive to it, living or dead.
Disgust was a normal reaction and in fact warranted. Sydney didn't hold a grudge for Aurora's reaction back then and now as she tried to stop herself from gagging at the fresh memory. "A pleasure to meet you Aurora." The man said with another smile, eyes level with the woman's own. Her impressive chest that rose as she changed her posture was ignored for conversation. She asked if he was from the south and that made the man laugh. "Born and raised in Virginia before I transplanted to California." He answered.