Hold On Tight {sabra}

[HIDDEN EVIL]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] There was no coincidence on why Sevanni had went into the subway station. New York required no driving skills. Transportation of public means was everywhere and could bring you from place to place faster than a cab at times. This was no current piece of information. Sevanni didn't drive, though he could, he always had someone drive for him, just because he was usually to busy to drive himself. It was always a mortal. Someone who knew who he was, what he was. The man always held respect for Sevanni. He had worked for him for six years, and he was more loyal than Hyde ever was. How he liked her hair color. It was rare to find someone with that shade, even when it was dyed it was difficult. New York was filled with Blonds, Brunettes, shades that lacked true essence of bringing ones eyes out to a pop. This one was rather breath taking. Sevanni had his girls at home. Mortal and Immortal alike, but there was a GREED in him that always took over, and when he eyed something he liked, he always made some portion of an effort to gain their attention. There had been one woman he wanted to get to, but she was harder to track down than most of his other victims. Vampires were much more stealthy and could hide themselves in the clove of darkness if need be, especially when they knew you were seeking them out. As he passed by on the street he had seen this one. Mortal. She had to be. Sevanni had yet to pick up her scent and take her out of a crowd of people in his mind. That was, until the car stopped on his prompted key note and let Sevanni out. Leaving a couple of files and books to rest on the seat in his place. He stepped out into the cold air, body ravaged with a long dark tan wool coat. It was trendy now a days to have them, black would have been the usual color to behold, but as usual, things had been a bit wonky since his recent return back to life so to speak. Over the ice and snow and slushed portions of the sidewalk he had managed to make it just ahead of her and stopped at the news stand just beside the entrance to the subway under tunnel. That's when she passed by him did he managed to turn his head in her direction past and get a sense of just what it was she smelled like. It was her blood that he was drawn to. The scent of it. Throughout the whole hustle and bustle of the city night he could even hear it flow through certain veins in her throat. So she had walked and so did he. Turning to follow in her direction and see where it was she would go. Hop the tunnel, head for work, or home. Maybe in need of some friendly company. He did like to behold someone and gain their company before taking their lives. If he turned her or fed from her, it wouldn't be in that night. Bug oh how hungry this man was, and she smelled so serene in her walking state. Maybe just a taste, he could chop it up as a secret between the two and give her bliss and ache for more as Jace had. Portion her to be one of his blood dolls or better yet, a new member of his family. Oh he was getting ahead of himself. Perhaps trying to work out on how not to spook her and gain her trust was in order. Let the blood thirst somehow manage to conjure it's self back into a hole.

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[sabra]

Sabra could feel the warmth of the subway station surround her in a gust as a subway passed, giving her pleasant shiver. It warmed her nose and cheeks, pink with the cold, but with the distraction gone of the temperature, she could feel her stomach reverberate its complaints with the day. A short wave of seething overcame her, and she gritted her teeth lightly.

That jerk...

That jerk was her manager, Walt, a jolly looking fellow with a less than pleasant disposition, who once again denied her the right to take a food break, or to even receive a plate once work was over.

Absentmindedly thumbing a stain on the apron of her classic waitress' uniform in some tacky shade of yellow no less, she contemplated the idiocies of a white apron.

Useless...

And so was her job. Barely making enough wages to afford the walk-in closet of an elderly woman, it was too much to go out and buy food, and Sabra refused to ask her parents... They had already given up so much to allow her to live here, and she refused to call them and share anything but utter joy about her situation.

I just need a break...

As was becoming her after work ritual, Sabra stopped next to a bulletin board, tacked with advertisements for cleaning services and lost animals, and scanned for any modeling work, but was once again out of luck.

A man about four feet away sat on a bench, his shoes and jacket tattered. For a moment, she pitied him, until she realized his eyes had been lingering on less than noble places... With a short huff, she buttoned her long white jacket and threaded the belt through the loops before tying it tightly around herself, shielding her body from the wandering eye of the homeless man.

Checking her phone quickly, which was soon becoming essential and irreparable, she struggled to check the time through a broken screen.

Fifteen more minutes until the next train...

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and scanned the subway station. Taking a deep breath and willing herself to be more cheerful, she moved back to the newspaper stand to amuse herself with the ever more ridiculous headlines consuming the magazines.

Glancing to her side, she noticed a man utterly consumed in his thoughts and smiled, as it was her favorite pastime. "It's ridiculous, right?" she said softly. It had become apparent that it was easier to distinguish the whispers in a subway station, as opposed to competing with the buzz of people yelling. Motioning to a tabloid, she continued, "I feel as if they should just let these people live their lives, but I suppose people would do anything to make money."

She thought of herself and the job she fervently wished she could leave behind.

[HIDDEN EVIL]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] "It's ridiculous, right?" Words knocked him out of his stupor and he had turned his head to look in her direction. Was she talking to him? She must have been. Oh this was nice, and he didn't even have to make first contact. Sometimes it felt like he was on a different planet and all of his species were hidden like pod people. What would happen if word broke out? Right now it was nothing but rumors and fictional stories bound by writers who actually knew what they were talking about, however; glammed it up, like adding a vampire who openly admitted he was and sang in a band. No one did that. No vampire openly came out. Then the stories of a vampire queen, whilst true enough, they were nothing alike. And let us not forget the tale of a vampire who told it all. That was actually true, but the names had changed and of course, in the end, the vampire was killed along with the journalist and the tapes were destroyed. Dracula was no better, and for Tepes to even take claim on perhaps being a vampire, that was horrible, and so the council promoted the tyrant to death. A low quizzical hum bellowed serenely in that throat of his in her direction. "I feel as if they should just let these people live their lives, but I suppose people would do anything to make money." But didn't everyone want some sort of fame or another? "Not only would they do anything to make a buck, but some of those celebrities actually enjoy the famedom." Like Rose. She was a model and he swore she loved all that bullshit promotionals and shoots that went with it. All the attention. Well she caught Hyde's attention, and that wasn't such a good thing.Good for Sevanni once he found the bastard. "You can't honestly tell me you wouldn't like that." It was more of a stated question. Most women loved the lime light, but if she had said no, perhaps there was a sliver of hope yet. "You're rather breathtaking, and....it would be a shame if some photographer, especially the right photographer missed a snap shot of you. Okay so now she knew that he thought she was breathtaking, but who gave a shit really? He was after all Sevanni Black. He could say whatever he dam well wanted. His form shifted to the side to view her better. Oh much better indeed Like how the smallest piece of flesh was visible beneath the collar of the coat, and how veins thumped along with blood flowing within the tubing. He could have been Homer Simpson, only as a vampire and longing for a taste. "I'm Sevanni....Black...." He had almost forgot to mention the last of his name, it wasn't as if she would have heard of him. Most mortals didn't. Which made him want to go say hello to Kira once more. She was rather fun to bully and scare. Sevanni held out his hand to the introduction, a friendly greeting, no harm done. Maybe if this worked out well in speech he could take her to a late night dinner. Oh yum, yum.

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[sabra]

"Not only would they do anything to make a buck, but some of those celebrities actually enjoy the famedom. You can't honestly tell me you wouldn't like that. You're rather breathtaking, and....it would be a shame if some photographer, especially the right photographer missed a snap shot of you. I'm Sevanni....Black...."

Sabra blushed and nodded, slightly taken aback, before grasping his hand firmly. His touch was cool against hers, but she brushed it off as the weather.

"Sabra Aulauland. And actually, I did come here to New York to model... but I enjoy the art of photography. I was actually going to school, albeit community college..." she paused, mentally reprimanding herself for the choice of belittling words and continued, "for photography and realized I enjoyed being in front of the camera more, but I'd much rather be in a sane environment, where the goal is not to promote my face and prosperity, but to show off a work of art, whether it be a dress or realizing the dream of a photographer." Her voice carried off into a wistful place before she caught herself.

"I'm just not one for the commercial side. I'd much rather be writing or just generally keeping to myself rather than attending parties." She laughed lightly keeping a slight humor to the conversation, feeling that she had divulged a large amount of information.

Her stomach rumbled once more, a dull ache beginning to build. She cleared her throat to distract from the noise that seemed far louder than every other sound inhabiting the place. Pulling her phone out from her pocket once more, she looked down, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear.

"I really ought to be going..." She winced mentally before giving a small smile. Sabra turned quickly, thinking of perhaps another excuse to save her from her vocalized blunders, but decided against it, before slowly making her way towards a train that probably wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes...

I'm so awkward...

She couldn't help but lightly laugh at herself as she began to move away.

[HIDDEN EVIL]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] "Sabra Aulauland. And actually, I did come here to New York to model... but I enjoy the art of photography. I was actually going to school, albeit community college..." A raise of brows to this wonderful bit of information. Sevanni was a huge fan of the arts, and if this one was an artist, oh well she was an absolute keeper. But just how good of an artist was she? And; did she have that artistic eye? "for photography and realized I enjoyed being in front of the camera more, but I'd much rather be in a sane environment, where the goal is not to promote my face and prosperity, but to show off a work of art, whether it be a dress or realizing the dream of a photographer." He could hear the delight in her tone as she thought on it. Spoke of it. Yes, some tended to fall into that happy place when they spoke or thought about art. Their art. But he did like that she continued on. Placing thoughts to words and sending them to his willing ear. "I'm just not one for the commercial side. I'd much rather be writing or just generally keeping to myself rather than attending parties." "How intriguing." He had to place his own comment. A models job, commercial or couture, had to endure the feats of parties when they were in front of the camera. Perhaps she would be the type to gain more fame from not doing those things. She was a speck of fairy dust. "I really ought to be going..." Sadly he hadn't much gained a chance to get a word in, but he did care to hear more about her. Venture into her place of comfort. See what it was that drew him closer and closer. He wanted to run fingers through her hair and force her head back for a taste. Pity they were standing in a public place. He had managed to captivate that arm of hers in a gentle gesture. Somehow get her attention again. "Wait.....You don't have to go.....look, the thing isn't showing up for a good fifteen minutes, want to get a coffee? Something to eat?" He was trying. Maybe after he'd mention he actually had a car, but she was far too beautiful to pass up the chance to meet her. A small shrug came to life over his shoulders and he chalked it up to mortal nervousness. "No pressure, it's rare to meet someone who's into art. I myself am sort of a....collector of fine pieces." Maybe that would make things click. He'd even show her his collection if she was interested. Like luring one with candy.

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[sabra]

"Wait.....You don't have to go.....look, the thing isn't showing up for a good fifteen minutes, want to get a coffee? Something to eat?"

Sabra visibly tensed as Sevanni, his name still unfamiliar in her thoughts, held her arm. It had been over a year since anyone had touched her, in any way. The thought wasn't a complaint, but a realization. Although her tenant, whose closet she had managed to fit a mattress in, was nice, she was not one for affection and kept to herself and reality shows mostly.

Perhaps I could do with a bit of socialization... I mean, look, I basically just diagnosed myself like one would a dog.

"No pressure, it's rare to meet someone who's into art. I myself am sort of a....collector of fine pieces."

She turned and smiled a quirky half sort of smile, lips still together, but a fire in her eye. The freedom of making a new decision, a variation from the normal routine thrilled her, as silly as it was.

God, I need to get out more...

"You know what? If you would hold the thought, I'd like to change out of my work clothes." She walked quickly, to the bathroom, avoiding touching absolutely anything, and hurriedly changed into a white sweater that fell down around her shoulders, delightfully exposing her fair neck and collarbone, but still clinging nicely to her waist and hips, as well as a pair of jeans with a dark wash, leaving on her white pumps on from the diner. Usually she would have changed at work, but because she was so rushed to get away from Walt and his masochistic behavior, she hadn't bothered.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, she stuffed her uniform into her purse and checked the amount of money she had made in tips.

I can afford one night...

Finding Sevanni once more, she smiled apologetically, her green eyes managing to glitter under the fluorescent lights. "I would say coffee, as it's a lot more casual, but to be perfectly honest, I'm starving."

He was into art? Intriguing. Sabra had always been attracted to the arts, regardless of whether or not she was talented. Although she could play the piano effortlessly, her hands were somehow not stable enough to really sketch or draw... Especially anything involving paints.

Oh, art class...

She grimaced. There were some redeeming qualities though. It had intrigued her how artistic movements coincided with music movements, and how she could almost see the relation when listening to a piece of music.

But she wanted to see this gallery, curious as to what his personal taste was. It was easy for her to connect on an artistic level, sweet water to a parched tongue.

"I'd love to see your gallery, but in the mean time, I have no clue where to go. I'm not too familiar with the restaurants..." she paused, correcting herself, "Well... decent restaurants."

Hell if I'm bringing Walt business.

[HIDDEN EVIL]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] "You know what? If you would hold the thought, I'd like to change out of my work clothes." A small variation of a smirk was played out in a friendly gesture. God why did mortals have to be so nicey nicey with their actions? The outward appearance of ones self? They say it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. At this rate it was killing him to seem more normal. "Take your time....I'm in nor hurry." Especially not to get out of the cold. At least he could hide the fact that he was dead with cold skin. For now anyway. How pale he must have looked under those lights. He had an olive tint about himself, but it was always florescent and sun that tainted him. The sun had been the worst of it. Nearly frying to ashed at his own front door. If someone hadn't dragged him into the house and set him up on that I.V. there would be no Sevanni Black now. It simply drew your energy from your body and made you nothing but a lifeless source of nothingness. She made her way back, heading in his direction, and still, behind fabric she looked beautiful still. It was her hair. He loved red heads, nearly infatuated. A raretey in the big city. Catching his attention, lifting a chin to view her with hazel gray eyes. He was certain she would have faltered and dipped out on him. But she came back, and that said a lot. "I would say coffee, as it's a lot more casual, but to be perfectly honest, I'm starving." A chortle was let out to her statement, stepping aside so the light hadn't been so gloomy over his flesh. He could have said something like, he was starved, but that wouldn't do anything but cause trouble later. What would she think if he hadn't a bite? Something was going to be done about that one. "I'd love to see your gallery, but in the mean time, I have no clue where to go. I'm not too familiar with the restaurants..." Okay, that was not a problem. There were plenty of places they could go, but seeing as how she didn't know many places, and who would have really been cooking up a storm at this hour? There was only one pheasable place he could take her. "Don't worry, I know a place I think you may like." A smile shed one more time and he had shuffled in the northern direction. "There are a lot of older pieces. Some new, modern, I think you call it. Body canvass sculptures......but I don't keep them at my house......I own a gallery downtown." His head pivoted in her direction before looking back down the street. they were about a block or two away from the place he had in mind, and as bad as it was, she was wearing heels and his car was following back behind them in a slow motion. Unnoticed unless you were really paranoid. Upon their arrival Sevanni opened the door and held it open. The place was a small pushed back bistro owned by the best chef in lower Manhattan. His specialty was pastry and pasta, everything he made was from scratch, and you wouldn't find a box or can in the kitchen. Not a one. "Mr. Black how nice to see you.....What's it been a few years now?" Sevanni gave a polite nod and chuckled human like. "Hi Louie. This is Sabra, and I told her that this place was the best place to eat at this hour." So he nodded in amazement. A mortal. He knew. He wasn't stupid. "I see....well, why don't you have a seat, anywhere you'd like, and I shall treat you to my best dish ever. Unless you have allergies you should tell me now." He whispered the end in with a huddled gesture, standing straight up and the two of them smiled about it. Not really an inside joke, but it was a mockery on how mortals thought vampires were allergic to garlic. Pity, the guy would never put that on the dish he was about to prepare. He turned in toe and headed toward the kitchen. Giancarlo was working the cash register and Carmen would be serving them. Sevanni led her to a nearby table and let her sit first after he offered to take her coat for her. "I've been coming here for years, we have a bit of history together." A gesture for her to go on and sit first. He was a gentleman after all. Sliding in to the booth himself, a nice tucked away portion of the place beat sitting at a table in the open. "So.....tell me about your work....what do you do?" The directive; not place focus on himself at the moment.

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