|
|
Post by patrickmcmanus on Jul 23, 2009 16:51:08 GMT -5
The night was young when he awoke in his New York city pent house. The woman who he fed on and took to bed, was long gone by now. He laid there for a moment staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing. He was hungry. The Modal sheets slipped off his perfectly toned immortal body as he rose from his bed. She had left her number on his nights stand with a note that said "Call me". A crooked little smile crossed his face as he recalled the previous nights activites...She sure was a wild one... He placed the paper back where it had come from and stretched his muscular arms up toward the sky, then to the pristine wooden floor. From there he went into a lung, then switched legs. Dropping to the floor, he did his evening push-ups and then rose again and went to take a cold shower. Although his body never aged nor did it weaken, he liked to keep his routine, as useless as it may be.
The water ran over his back, it's icy teeth sending chills down his spine. The funny thing was, that it felt familiar, it felt like the very skin that was flowing down. He loved the feeling. He took satisfaction that he wasn't the only thing in the world that felt like ice, but could move. As he stepped out, the liquid dripping from his body, he thought of the night to come...Mmmm, I wonder what beauty will indulge my beast this evening... He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to his closest and put on a pair of PJ pants. He headed toward the kitchen after he had turned up Flogging Molly on his IHome. the fridge was stocked just enough to feed his guests and the liqueur cabinet across was overflowing with the sweet poisons that he loved even in death. His six Irish wolf hounds were laying on the couch and came running as soon as he walked out of his bedroom. A normal man would have most likely been knocked over by the massive creatures, but he just petted them all and tossed their toys across the living room so he could fill their bowls with the highest quality dog food money can't by, homemade. The distraction didn't last long for the moment they smelled the slop, they appeared at his side, eagerly awaiting the bloody meat saturated stew.
Having fed his children, he did his pull ups, and went to get dressed. It didn't take him long to pull on his white slacks, Grey and green shirts, and his navy blue blazer. He was going to New York City tavern tonight to observe how it was run, and he didn't want to look like a hard ass. This outfit suited his purpose perfectly. He laughed as he looked in the mirror...Damn, how the years change style... Picking up his wallet and keys he said good bye to Panzer, Shotgun, Sniper, Ranger, Raider, and Warrior, then walked out the door and to the elevator that would take him to the lobby. Once there he, he greeted the staff and went on his way.
The good thing about being the boss was that he didn't have to be on time for anything other business meets, of which he had few. The second he started the engine of his 1969 Dodge Charger the stereo speakers started blasting the Drop Kick Murphy's. He sped down the road to his favorite song and made it to the Tavern in record time. he parked his car in the back, the moment he walked inside he was greeted by a hefty cheer, as was customary in all of his taverns when anyone came in. He then went to work, and went to ask the costumers how everything was going after he inspected the kitchen. Everything was in perfect order as always but he tried to make the costumers feel welcome. The bar was next, he spotted a gorgeous blonde woman sitting alone and decided that she would be nice company. he sat down on the bar stool next to her and ordered a whiskey. Then looked toward her. "Is everything to your liking here, miss?"
 Count: 712 Places: Patrick's Penthouse and The Beautiful Stranger Outfit: Blazer and slacks Credit: Redwood Notes: My sincerest apologies for taking so bloody long |
|
|
|
Post by * Ixandra Marie on Jul 24, 2009 23:19:01 GMT -5
I [/color] xandra M[/color] arie D[/color] aSilva'cause the girl in my mirror[/color] I S C R Y I N G T O N I G H T[/color]  A N D T H E R E I S N O T H I N G I C A N T E L L H E R[/color] to make her feel alright[/color] "Is everything to your liking here, miss?"
Ixandra looked up at the man beside her. Woah. He was practically heartbreak wraped up in a muscular frame and sweet smile. She smiled at him.
"Everything is to my liking and then some, Hunni." she said with a wicked grin. Her Southern accent was acting up a bit more than usual. She smiled at him. "Who might you be, Darling?" she asked, finishing the Whiskey she ehrself had ordered. At twenty-two, she had been drinking hardcore for six years. Five of which she didn't have to buy herself at all even if she COULD have... Which, of course, she couldn't... legally, anyway.
She flipped back her blonde hair, decked out in a denim pleated miniskirt without fishnets to show off her perfect legs and black heels. She was wearing a decolette black hooded shirt with sleeves that went to her elbows. It showed off her C cups quite nicely, actually, even if it wasn't quite the purpose she had in mind with it. The shirt was black with baby blue stars on it that went perfectly with her eyes. Ooh her eyes. Her eyes had a light blue, almost white powder shadow and thin black eyeliner as dark as night. All in all, if you asked her anyway, she looked PRETTY DAMN GOOD.
She turned on her stool a little looking at him. All the other boys steered clear of her. There were other girls who were drinking far less heavy drinks and getting drunker than she was on fewer... So those were, of course, the ones they went after. But Ixandra? Oh no. She had much too high of a tolerance for alcohol for that. But this guy... He was clad nicely and when he walked in everyone cheered... He probably owned the place, she concluded.[/center] TAG ! Patrick<3 WORDS! Too lazy to count xD three hundred or so I think LYRICS ! Girl In the Mirror - Britney Spears NOTES ! Sorry it sucks, I'm sick so my head all AHH at the moment. CREDITS ! PaulaHalliwell from caution 2.0 [/color] |
|
|
|
Post by patrickmcmanus on Aug 2, 2009 10:45:49 GMT -5
The second her spotted the whiskey in front of her, he knew they would get along great. It wasn’t the watered down smoothie like drinks that most females ordered these days, it was the real stuff. He hated fruity drinks, they made him sick to his immortal stomach…Why drink if you couldn’t feel the burn as it flows through your body?… That was his motto when I came to drinking, and come to think of it, everything. He never did anything half assed, it was either all the way, or not at all. His attention never left the precious treasure sitting so strongly in front of him, but when she spoke his crooked little Irish smile made it’s way to his lips. “Everything is to my liking and then some, hunni.” She sounded like a pure bread southern belle, it was unbelievably attractive. He had a thing for accents, especially those from Ireland, but the South was good too. There was just something about the they way she spoke that made him feel welcome; even in his own bloody tavern….Good ol’ southern hospitality…
He couldn’t help but love the way she presented her self, it was really quite something. His smile was still on his face when she piped up a second later. “Who might you be, darling?”. There it was again, but stronger this time with the “darling”. She was really quite remarkable, literally. She had a nice frame, but not to delicately small. He couldn’t stand to be with zipper chicks, they made him feel as if he was going to break them any second, which he could, but that was not the point. The ones with the stronger bones were the ones for him, 5-9 those were his sizes, any skinnier and he just turned off like a light switch. “Name’s Patrick McManus, but you can call my Patrick.” He watched her downed the rest of her whiskey and then called to the bartender. “Hey Ricky; could we get another strong one for the little miss over here? Thanks lad.” Ricky replied with a wicked smile, being an Irishmen him self, they just came with the territory, and a “Comin’ right up sir.”. He winked back at him as he was handed the two whiskeys, one for him, and one for the mysterious woman next to him. Placing them down on the bar he returned his never wandering eyes to her. “May I ask your name my dear?”
He made him self comfortable, he had a feeling he was going to be here w while; not that , that was a bad thing, in fact he liked speaking to spunky females, even if he didn’t take them home. He shot his first whiskey, and savored the sting, nothing in all his two-hundred and fifty-six years tasted better than a nice shot of Irish whiskey. He looked over the woman that sat before him, but without elevator eyes. It was a simple taking in, absorbing how she looked for his memory banks, just in case they ever met again. She was down-right gorgeous with that mini skirt on, and that black top looked like it was something of a God send. He long blonde hair cascaded down her smooth shoulders and down her back. Some women these days knew how to dress, and she was one of them. The difference between her and others was that she didn’t look like a slut, but simply attractive, gorgeous but not skanky.
Count: 587 Credit: Redwood Notes: Don‘t worry about it a mhuirnin, all is well  |
|
