BLESS ME DARK FATHER, I HAVE SINNED-----------EVE.

[Ellie]

i've done it before & i'll do it again[/font]
'CUS IT KEEPS ME WARM & IT MAKES YOU SMILE, YOU'VE BEEN BENEATH ME ALL THE WHILE.

HELL YES !

Lars's feet moved in a swift casual walk on the cracked pavement, the usual cigarette between his lips, hands in his blazer pockets, the coat shielding him from the nibble of October wind chill. He'd parked his car some ways off, his destination being in a less than ideal area to park an expensive sports car. He didn't mind the walk anyway, considering he was planning on picking up a little snack before hand.

He'd finally called her, that Evelyn O'dell. He'd met up with her some time in between the times when Jack had come back, back when he thought all hope was lost for him. Oh how things change. At the time however, she was the last thing on his mind, and after, well he really didn't have the mind to call her. It was only until recently, as things had finally settled back down, or rather, Giselle's remorseful mood swings had calmed down, that he could think over things in clarity. It was now that he was finally giving thought to the number planted in his address book on his phone. What puzzled him was that the number was printed twice.

Then he remembered her from at least two years before they had met in the amusement park. At the time when it came to him he'd nervously smiled at his phone screen, a light pinkness coming over his cheeks. How he'd forgotten that voice? Who knew. He was overly stressed, and not very focused on past fucks. But now that his thoughts were clear, he remembered that night vividly and got to work texting her. Not to rekindle and old flame of course, and God knows he couldn't mutter a thing about it to Giselle- not that he'd actually slept with her before, but Lars figured it'd be a straight time bringing back the happy memories... and better, retelling his victory against the opposer he spoke so much of at the amusement park.

A cheeky grin from tossing over words to say to her fell from his face as he heard a low moan some feet away. He pulled the cigarette, eyes cast downward as he moved a few more large strides to behold a young man slumped in the mouth of an alleyway. Most of him was in a puddle, he wreaked of grime, sweat and blood. His whole face was battered and bruised, clothes torn and stained. It was obvious the man had lived on the streets, or had for about a week. It was apparent to that he had gotten into an altercation not too long ago.

One side of his skull seemed to be badly cut, fractured almost, not bad enough to kill the poor fucker, but enough to have his hair matted with blood. His once off white shirt was stained in a significant place, Lars guessed whomever had attacked him - for whatever reason - had brought a club with them, and used it well. Lars sighed, taking a long drag from his cigarette before tossing it in the shallow layer of blood on the pavement, crushing it beneath his foot.

All the while the man had pleaded with him some feeble words, trying to find aid from the man that just stood in front of him analyzing. Lars's hazel eyes swept him up and down, the words, spoken in french came out with struggle, tears streaming down the man's blood caked face, making some streaks expose his tanned skin. Lars's eyes caught his, he could see all the distress and pain behind them. The man uttered some words that Lars caught as "Help me, please, take me to a medic, a hospital, please.'

Did Lars pity the boy? Unfortunately, yes, he didn't look older than eighteen. But not enough to actually go out of his way to save the fellows life. The man had lost too much blood to be saved at this rate... but there was perhaps enough left in his to where he could actually be of some use. Lars bent down, his lips in a straight line, as he inspected him up closer, the man was too exhausted and helpless to move or do anything from the closeness. Lars's tongue slid between his lips quickly before he spoke, "Je peux mettre fin à votre douleur, mais c'est tout,"

[/b] the man looked at him wide eyed, tears falling faster from his eyes. Lars's face remained apathetic as he clasped both of his hands over the man's shoulders, his fingers digging themselves into his flesh as he launched himself and the man to their feet. The man cried out form pain, but relaxed against the wall, expecting Lars's words of putting him out of his misery to run true.

Lars sent the ball of his palm into the man's head-wound at full force, immediately killing him, his scull fully crushed against his cranium, then proceeded to drink whatever was left from him, leaning all his weight on the body, pinning it against the building's wall to keep it upright before he dissattatched himself, letting the limp, dry body slump to the ground. Lars licked around his lips dramatically, wiping away anything he couldn't get with the back of his palm.

"Au revoir!" Lars waved to the corpse, as he made his way out of the alley, inspecting his attire for any bloodstains, thankfully only finding the slightest bit on the bottom of his shirt and near the pocket of his jeans. Lucky him, actually was becoming fluent in French, even in a large tourist area like Paris, his many visits to local pubs and such, not tourist district, made him have to adjust. Because truly, Parisians were like New Yorkers, if you're a dumbass who expects the whole damn city and native people in it to cater to you because you don't know what the fuck it going on, you could fuck off and get lost- or you could attempt to adjust, if you failed, well then that sucks for you, now don't it?! Lars was the type who adjusted, obviously.

After another short lived stroll, Lars found himself entering the rather rowdy pub. The room was small, long, but small, like most local bars. Lars ordered himself some scotch, then made his way over to a dimly lit booth, a much better alternative to hanging around the bar, in which a large crowd of drunken men and women were cheering on a soccer team. Lars had no interest in the sport, so just say in silence, his back leaned against the leather as he sipped back his drink.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

THIS IS TAGGED TO EVE. ELLIE HAS BEEN LISTENING TO ALKALINE TRIO AS SHE WROTE THIS 1093 WORD POST HERE WHERE LARS IS WEARING THIS, AND SHE'D ALSO LIKE YOU TO KNOW, that you'll like this song.

[evelyn]

X . X . X
attire

The language was far less foreign to her than she would've liked it to be at the moment. Not that many of his words were actually heard, but words weren't needed to know exactly what he was saying, or eventually trying to convey. The evening started off with an offer to buy some sort of alcoholic drink for her. She never really understood how offering to get a woman drunk was a polite gesture. In fact, especially after how quickly he ordered her three refills, she found this man to be quite rude. He was lucky that his one glass of wine a day actually paid off, or else his soon-to-be death would be such a waste.

"Allons." Not bothering to even take a sip from her refilled martini, she slid herself off of the bar and took a slight moment to brush off any non-existing dust that might have been on her dress. The slightest tinge of annoyance was quickly splayed across her face when she looked up and realized that he hadn't even begun to move from his own seat, yet. "Maintenant, s'il vous plait." Didn't this man know that this was a busy woman who had other places to go and other things to do? Well, he should have known.

Not mistaking her for some bitter prissy woman, her impatience toward this man was well justified. Unlike other times where she possibly could waste at least half her night playing with her food before eating it, tonight was a little different. There was only so much time that she had to play around with before she was expected to arrive at yet another bar, and unlike this fraud of a gentleman that strolled along all too eagerly behind her, she knew that she would actually enjoy her dear Lawrence's company, who she knew a little more personally than she had originally thought.

It's so funny how small the world can seem when instances such as these occur. What she thought was a depressed, lonely stranger in search of comfort at an amusement park turned out to be ... well, a depressed, lonely stranger in search of comfort at an amusement park whom she had found herself fucking about three years prior to that sad, sad night. See? Such a small world, indeed. She'd curse her horrible memory for a moment when she finally made that realization, but Evelyn forgave herself pretty quick with good reasoning. After all, he obviously didn't recognize her at the time, as well. And besides, this wasn't the same boy she had met back in London three years ago. No, that Lars was far less lovey-dovey, and much more of Evelyn's preferred type of boy. Not to say that this current Lawrence was all that bad, of course she wouldn't know much about him, now. In fact, now that that she thought about it, she didn't really know him that well then, either. He wasn't human, he was cute, and he was more than willing to scratch a little itch she had. That was all that she needed to know at the time.

Her heels finally stopped, and she couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle as her crystal blue eyes rolled at this man's stupidity. Why they always follow this woman wherever she went, even if she led hem down an extremely dark and secluded alley such as this, she would never understand it. It is truly surprising how far looks really could get someone. And since his shallow thoughts brought her a meal, she wasn't about to complain or object. "It's truly sad just how stupid you humans are. And to think there are those out there with fangs like mine that wish to put a larger value on your life." Wasted words heard by deaf ears, she turned around only to see a very puzzled man who couldn't figure out her English words. Evelyn's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'I thought English was the second most spoken language here.... Well, I guess that doesn't matter, now. Je vous mangerai avant que vous pourriez l'apprendre."

Still confused, but now scared from her statement, he began to back up, which only proved to be useless as his shiny designer shoes slipped on a puddle. How unnecessary yet convenient for the puddle to be there. A low growl slipped through sharp smiling teeth not even a second before she lunged, landing perfectly on top of him with her knees crushing into his thighs and her tiny hands pressing hard against his chest. Funny, she could've sworn that this was exactly what the man wanted. Well, maybe when was thinking about her on top of him, it wasn't quite like this. Shame on the beggar for being so picky. "ne criez pas, mon amour. tu réveillera les voisins," she whispered her cold breath against his neck before viciously taking a bite and feeding.

He was a rude man indeed, screaming loudly and forcing her to snap that pretty little neck in order to finish her meal. Dead bodies make such horrible meals with their cold, tasteless blood. Oh, well. She'd gotten enough to at least be satisfied for a while. Perhaps Lawrence wouldn't mind joining her for a snack later. She'll have to see how the night goes.

She second guessed if this was the right pub for a moment after seeing a crowd that was much more lively and loud than she wished it to be. Soccer, really? Such a boring sport with lots of humans on some grassy field kicking around a ball to make it into a net. What was the point of that game, anyways? You win a shiny trophy if you're team is the best ball kicker in the world. Hell, Evelyn's done much worse to so many balls without even touching them. She could easily take that trophy without the assistance of an entire team.

Luckily, soccer wasn't the reason she was here, and after taking a quick sniff, she knew she had come to the right place. His scent was masked underneath heavy smoke, liquor, and blood rushing in each sport-fanatic's body, but there he was, secluded in nice booth away from all the shouting and drinking over at the bar. He was such a smart man, and this goes on to prove that great minds think a lot like Evelyn's mind. She glanced over at the bar once more, and after weighing the pros and cons of squeezing through that crowd to get a drink, she decided that she was rather content with a quenched thirst for now, and instead headed directly toward the booth with a small, greeting smile as she slid onto the seat across from him.

"Evening, Lawrence. I've been waiting all night to hear this story..." He was such the little tease on the phone earlier, only briefly mentioning his victory against the evil ... what was his name again? John... Jacob ... oh, Jingleheimer Schmidt, for all she cared. He was dead when Lars was so convinced that the outcome would be the other way around. A rather mischievous smile crept across her lips. Something told her that this story was going to be a rather interesting one. "Spill."

[/i][/color] :: Let's go ... Now, please.
Je vous mangerai avant que vous pourriez l'apprendre. :: I'll eat you before you could learn it.
ne criez pas, mon amour. tu réveillera les voisins. :: Don't scream, my love. You'll wake the neighbors.[/ul][/blockquote]

[Ellie]

Lars's eyes met hers and a small smile broke out on his face. With the memory from years past he considered her face a familiar one. But that was behind them right? Of course. Even if it wasn't he knew it was a necessity to bury that skeleton six feet down into his closet. What Giselle didn't know wouldn't hurt her after all. It wasn't like Eve was the fire in his loins or anything, but just because one became monogamous didn't mean your dick fell off save for when you looked at your own girl. Boys will be boys.

Pushing those thoughts aside Lars took one last swig of his liquor - damned empty calories of pure golden goodness, not that he had the need to watch his weight. He smacked his lips savoring the taste for a moment before popping his elbows onto the table, leaning his weight forward, forearms now flat against the wooden top. "Well," he started with a little smile, "What part do you want me to start at? The part where I find out the fuck-mook's shitty plot? Or the part where I beat the fuck outta him?"

He looked down, raising a brow as he cleared his throat before looking back up, "I think I'll just keep you on your pretty little toes and start at the beginning."

"So there I was, just minding my own fucking business and walking down the hall when I hear his voice all loud and shit from behind his door - because we were all like awkward and shit in the same fucking house, right?" Lars said with an eye roll, now noting the craziness behind letting the creep actually stay in the same household, "Anyways - he was saying shit about sautéing my balls and chopping Gis's head off, right? So at this point, I was just fucking weirder out because I totally thought he still loved her and shit - and just hated my ass. But oh no - it gets better. He wanted to kill off Giselle and take her money for the second fucking time. Because he did it the first time. Don't fucking ask me how she didn't know the first time. All I'm going to comment on that is how lucky she is to have me actually taking in account for that shit before we both get out heads chopped off and cast into the sun... where was I?" he paused, taking a breath and looking at Eve from under his eyelashes. He spoke vulgarly, it was just how he was raised he guessed. Not too educated, just cultured enough to get by, raised in New York amongst many other loud Italian Americans - it was just how things turned out, cuss words every other word. Fuck anybody who complained.

"Yeah well, you know, it's just my fucking luck he opens the goddamned door and there I am all fucking wide eyed and thinking he's gonna skin me right then and there and hang my inked hide on the fucking wall! But that didn't happen. I don't know why. But he took me walking into these fucking catacombs instead. Started talking shit to me about the house and asking me all these questions. Fake, of course. He probably had his cock in his hands, too. But I played along and acted dumb. It worked, considering he just fucking let me go - or at least. I was in the library after and sneaked to Giselle to spill the shit before he could cover himself."

A sigh escaped him, "She didn-" the small crowd of twenty or so people at the bar roared loudly, Lars shot them a side glance and continued on with a furrowed brow, "Giselle didn't believe me at first which was more than frustrating. So I took her out of the house to a place Jack couldn't find us and tried telling her again. Somehow she got fucking angry with me. But then I did that blood memory shit? And she saw the whole fucking thing first hand," he grinned a little, remembering his cleverness in that opportune moment, "So then all her bitchy anger is directed at Jack, right? Now, you don't really know Giselle that well, but when she gets into her bitchy angry self, she doesn't think anywhere past that and that alone. Depending on the situation that's a good thing or a bad thing. In this particular situation it wasn't so fucking good however."

He stopped his story momentarily, his hands coming to rest considering he tended to talk with them also, and lifted a corner of his mouth, "Any questions? I'm about to get all fucking.. action movie on you next."

[evelyn]

Her attire alone was enough to cause a few pairs of eyes to wander in their direction, and her habitually straight, flawless posture only made her stand out even more. This wasn't the kind of place that she normally found herself in; the food here was far too intoxicated to bother draining. Nonetheless though, the atmosphere was almost comfortable, so barbaric and savage as distant shouts with harsh tones and profanity echoed in the background. It was far from the usual scene of fine liquor and poised men with fine blood and rich pockets, their noses always sticking up so oblivious to their hideous chemical odors. This was a nice break from the phony humans whom have detached themselves from the rest of this natural world. Not that she enjoyed the group of staring, drunken slobs at the bar, but at least they weren't afraid to admit how beastly and animal-like they were.

Cocking her head ever-so-slightly, a subtle smile spread across her dark lips as he began to share his triumphant tale. She would have interrupted him in the beginning, but there was something about the way he spoke that kept her ears locked on every word he said. The story itself wasn't paid much attention to, although she was the one who requested to hear it. That didn't matter, though. She would get a nice little repeat of the story, soon enough. For now, she simply sat still and quiet, her head leaning still as she watched each gesture curiously. He was such a lively story-teller; his words alone were so full of energy and emotion. This wouldn't be the first time that Evelyn found herself in the company of a loud Italian or someone with the mouth worse than a sailor. She was far from repulsed or offended by any of it. In fact, it was the proper idiots who were so caught up with manners and being "civilized" that ticked off every nerve in her body. Figures that those were the kind of humans she found herself snacking on often.

She was quickly reminded of just how fun her dear Lawrence could be as he quickly described as much as he could about the entire situation. Her smile had to grow just the tiniest bit and tighten slightly at just how silly he was being about it all. There was much more simple way to discuss this, and she figured that as a vampire, he would sure know that. She wasn't ready to tell him about that though, still too intrigued and amused by the sight before her as he paused for only a brief second before continuing on with his story again.

Thoughts quickly drifted behind those icy blue eyes that still gazed in front of her. This was the exact reason she had chosen him before, and she was nearly ashamed of herself for forgetting his face so easily. That would only prove just how casual their past was, however. A simple physical rendezvous long ago and nothing more. One night of fun and excitement to quench her curious thirst, and that was simply that. No second dates or phone calls the next night. There were no fluttering hearts at the sight of him then, and she certainly didn't feel any lustful flames or romantic emotions when she finally remembered who he was. It would probably be surprising to learn of just how little of a sexual libido this seductive vixen had, but she rarely needed others around for much of anything let alone some physical attention. She could give herself plent of that any time she wished, anyways.

Not that her time spent with Mr. Trell wasn't any good or anything. He didn't leave her unsatisfied, and what she learned from him then proved to be so useful later on during hunts and random experiments with human or vampire lab rats. Who knew that boys could be even more fun to play with than they already were? It was so funny to think of what a little evil tease Lawrence helped create. She was actually rather proud of his successful work, and grateful for showing her a much more fun way to play with her food.

The roar of the crowd abruptly broke her from her daydreaming and her own brows furrowed at the loud, disruptive sound. The little patience that she always had was beginning to quickly disappear as the stinging smell of poisoned blood filled her nostrils. She hoped that he would come to a break in this long story soon, or else she would have to appear rather rude by interrupting him once her impatience finally caused her to snap. Thankfully, that break she hoped for came much sooner than she guessed it would. By the temporary end of his story, her posture was much less straight and poised than before as she sat across from him with dropped shoulders and a slightly more relaxed posture. It would only be a second that she would appear so casual before she was quickly on her feet, standing before him with a playful yet wicked smirk splayed across her lips. Her perfectly manicure fingers slid on top of his as her hands pressed against his while she leaned across the table, her lips barely brushing against his ear as she spoke. "I think you misunderstood me before, darling." She softly cooed. Not that she needed to be this close to him or anything, despite the loud background noise that seemed to never cease. Perhaps old habits died hard though, and Evelyn sometimes found it hard to stop playing such fun games like making a man's skin crawl with goosebumps at the sound of her voice or her icy touch. Seduction was nearly her natural talent, anyways. While one hand remained on his, the other gracefully brushed against his skin as she lightly slid her dark, crimson nails up his arm and across the side of his neck. "Don't tell me what happened ... show me."

With that and a vicious smile, she backed off of him as she made her way toward the very back of the bar. The loud click of the back doorknob cause only a second of silence as nosey humans looked over to observe the scene. She wasn't too worried about whether or not her company would follow her back here or if he caught on to her little hint. Either way, the noisy bar wasn't the place she wanted to be at the moment anyways. The back alley wasn't much better with the shouts and disgusting smells barely muffled as they continued on. Perhaps she would take Lawrence on a little journey back to the suite she rented or another alley near a quieter place. She'd let him decide on the place when he decided to join her.

[Ellie]

Lars just sort of gawked as she touched him and left. His eyebrows were knitted in confusion on what exactly to do. Because the very fact of the matter was, that he barely really knew this chick. And had more than enough of a reason to be weary. A night of screwing, another of spilling your guts and a planned bar get together didn't amount to a perfect circle of trust, after all. But bothering his lips for a few seconds he made his decision to play along momentarily.

Filling his lungs with the bar's smell once before downing as much of his drink as he could, Lars exhaled breathily and retraced Evelyn's steps out the back door.

It was just a typical alley, although he wasn't sure why she'd have to choose the back door, either. It only made him more skeptical. Lars was much more fond of doing things the 'human way' still. He still had the same discretion as a human, for the most part. It was what came natural to him. Which was understandable, considering he only had five years of vampirism under his belt. Whereas he had lived and was adjusted as a human for four times that amount.

In the dark, Lars looked at her with squinted eyes as he lit a cigarette. Taking a drag and releasing the white smoke before speaking his thoughts to her, "Well, I'm married now," he said calmly, "So you know I can't do that," he continued, equally as low.

She could very well wish to argue that point. But Lars was adamant. A story of how he triumphed over someone she didn't even have any need or care to know wasn't important enough for risking that. The whole action was a grey area, really. For a human to drink a vampire's blood would result in hardly any pleasure at all. But a vampire on another? Different story. If the circumstances were different, and the whole event was needed to be seen - then he would allow it to be so. But that wasn't the case. He'd be wasting his blood frivolously for what he guessed was a backdoor lure into some physical satisfaction for her.

He didn't blame her really, vampires were naturally seductive creatures. But his fidelity came before his instinctive nature. A lot has changed since his past self and her's night out together. If that wasn't obvious enough. God knows if the tables were turned and Giselle was here deliberating the choice in this situation, he wouldn't be too fucking happy with her going through with it. So he kept that in mind, only more food for thought and fuel to not continue. Double standards were nonexistent to him, a good trait to find in a man.

All of that aside, however, Eve wasn't worth enough to risk his relationship with Giselle. She was an alright companion, but she could never fill the emotional gap she found him with those few years ago. At that time he figured he could leave it empty, overload on his carnal desires and cruel intentions to fill it. He couldn't keep it up for long, obviously. Having found his resolution, it wasn't likely he would throw that all away for anyone.

So, with all that in mind, Lars leaned himself against the cool brick of another building facing Evelyn. He put the cigarette to his mouth once more, eying her in the shadows awaiting her response and plan of action with his new revelation.

[evelyn]

She allowed a moment of silence to creep by them, if for nothing else but to add just a pinch more tension and suspense. Casually leaning back against the wall, her eyes lowered as her boot lightly scuffed the dirtied ground below her. No real signs of any emotion showed as she gracefully moved her arms in front of her, barely crossing one over the other. It wasn't too hard to disconnect herself from the current scene as irrelevant thoughts hazed her mind. Circling the ball of her shoe over a round pebble, it would take her just a few more silent seconds before she remembered that there was still company within her presence.

Relaxed lips barely parted and curved up yet again. One huffed snort, and shortly after that was another one followed by a rather amused chuckle. It was far from a lady-like response, and quite possibly seen as a rude gesture on her part. She couldn't help but show just how tickled she was by his response, though. Not just his words, but his posture as he stood across from her and those squinted eyes she could feel staring at her even when she looked away. He'd laugh too, if he saw himself through her eyes right about now.

"Oh, Lawrence.." Lars always did sound far too simple of a nickname for someone she saw to be so complex. Looking up, the gleam in her eyes shone so clear, despite the fact that the only bulb lighting up this alley was the waning moon above. "You say it as though I was suggesting that we should fuck." Spoken just as casual as her stance, she couldn't help but let another slight chuckle come out and play.

The assumptions that people constantly came up with never ceased to amaze her. A whisper in an ear and the slightest contact of fingertips trailing along the skin always lead thoughts to race the "wrong" way. Sure, escaping quietly through the back door could probably be seen as setting up something rather promiscuous. To the other drunken slobs along the bar, the entire scenario was supposed to appear as just that. She was rather disappointed that Lawrence didn't catch on to her actions, though. Of course, Evelyn could've just shouted out that she would rather him bite her and use their nifty vampire powers to finish off the story, and then they could've simply answered to the twenty intoxicated people who would undoubtedly have a few questions about that statement.

Not that it would've been a hard task, but that would be so time consuming, which was the reason she led her dear Lawrence out here in the first place. Perhaps there were other ways to be discreet, but that wouldn't have been a very entertaining show. Where has his sense of fun run off to?

Lifting her forearms from their comfortable position, she showed her hands with the palms faced forward as she gave the tiniest surrendered gesture to him. "I get it. You don't want to be tempted to do anything further." She couldn't hide the underlying tone of boredom. A second round was honestly the second to last thing on her mind, but her desires weren't the ones that caused the issue here. Pushing her back away from the wall, she was once again in a perfect posture as her hands gently brushed off whatever dirt could've clung to thin fabric draping her. Cleanliness wasn't necessarily something she kept a regular tabs on, but she had yet to find dessert, tonight. And with her exquisite tastes, showing up to some rich place dirty would make her hunt more complicated than needed.

"Nothing against you, love, but I'm not a big fan of long chats on a restless night." Her heels clacked only once against the pavement as she quickly moved herself from across the alley to a closer distance beside the hand with a cigarette in his grasp. "I always forget just how young you are." She did, indeed, forget just how young he was until he mentioned being married. Honestly, if his promise of forever meant anything significant, then one little bite wasn't going to put the tiniest dent in his relationship. Seeing as how Evelyn never believed in the feeling to begin with, discussing about it was only going to aggravate and waste more time.

Whenever this forever ended sooner than expected, the he would learn a lesson about that little thing called, "Love".

As for the bite itself, it was nothing for anyone who had any sense of control, which he just clearly confessed to not having. Perhaps that was reason she found teasing him to be such a pleasure.

Her voice lowered to a volume much closer to a whisper than anything. "I can handle one little bite. If you can't, however..." No hand was held out ready to grab anything as her eyes flickered toward the flaming stick of various chemicals and tobacco. "Do you mind if I have a drag before I go?"

[.eornoM adlitaM ybuR]

[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=2][bg=666666] Ruby looked her age. Which age, though, would be the question soon to follow. Perpetually young, sure, but here in Paris, she could let her eighty year old fashion sense run a muck. Not like she couldn't in New York, but it was much more fitting here in Paris than in the grime of the city back in America. And sometimes she didn't want to be that sore thumb out in the crowd. Fucking shoot her for being trendy in her own way. If she saw one more female wearing sweatpants and uggs, she swore that unlucky individual would be a little short of breath and have blood stained... boots, if they even deserved the title. But, aside from that fact, Paris wasn't a total pleasure trip. She had people to visit, wealthy gentlemen to befriend to unsure her own wealth for the rest of her unnatural life.. it wasn't a terrible thing to be flirty with some rich vampire to secure yourself. In immortal years she was very young, indeed. Stealing your victims' cash didn't always keep up. B tucked her dark hair behind her hair with a pale hand carefully. The blackish locks were done up in a loose up-do, the smallest of heavy curls falling around to frame her face lightly. The cool night was pleasant, the faintest of breezes was amidst in the air, and just as she was unbuttoning her pea coat to forage for her cigarettes, Lars Trell was passing on his own to Evelyn O'dell. His face a tangled mess of disappointment, suspicion and embarrassment. Lars knew very well he was young and vulnerable, why else would he dismiss what Eve was suggesting? He wasn't here to prove anything, and knew his limits. There was nothing more to be spoken besides a casual parting of, "See you around, then," before he strode off into the streets away from her. Thankfully, our lovely Monroe was too far off to catch the familiar scent that was Lars. And by the time she got around to clicking her way along the sidewalk to the pub of screaming soccer, oh no, football fans it was long washed out from the sprinkle shower that fell from the sky. The cigarette she had been previously enjoying went slack in her mouth. Her manicured fingers gripped the stubby thing and flicked it to the wet concrete, crushing it forcefully under her red bootie. Ruby exhaled slowly, stopping her tracks in the middle of the walkway to observe what was around her momentarily. Her blue eyes were squinted, eying all the humans squarely. Her predatory instincts were settling in acutely, it had been a few many hours since her last meal. She had the strangest urge to make her soon-to-be-kill very quick and violent. Messy. A nights worth of watchful etiquette often left her with that feeling. Ruby wasn't the type of vampire to always embrace her violent tendencies, nor did she cut herself off from humans socially. She hung herself in the delicate balance of respect. On nights such as this, killing was inevitable, and she would feel zero remorse for the stranger whose life would be ended. She was one step higher on the food-chain, too fucking bad for them. Other nights, though, she'd be considerate and let her victims live. She didn't have any morals when it came to feeding, it all more or less depended on her needs and wants in that particular moment. And at this moment she wanted to be cruel. Cocking her head minusculey, Ruby gently folded her hands into the pockets of her coat, and stood with one hip slack, analyzing what would be suitable, who would put up some fight, who would satisfy her ears with a little yelp. So many choices. Her red lips pursed themselves when her eyes caught sight of a male undoubtedly boring holes into her chest. If he couldn't even put his neck on the chopping block further! Wonderful. Her long, pale legs moved forward toward him. He wasn't her type. Some 170 pounds, muscular, tall, his face looked rugged and worn, his middle thick, maybe in his early 40's or late 30's. It wasn't that he was being a pig entirely, he could certainly be the kindest of men even if he had some odd fixation with her breasts. Some men were so easily distracted. Pity. Her hands remained firmly in her pockets as she sauntered to him, embracing her every curve as she walked. Soon she stood toe to toe with him, as he was leaned against the pub wall in shelter from the perspiration. Ruby didn't say a word, merely looked the Frenchmen straight in the eye, her face down turned slightly to make her eyes look doey. Her lips were parted slightly before a little smile overtook them, a cold hand wound its way around his middle, and together they were off toward the nearest alley. No mind control required. However, once Ruby was assured they were out of sight of the street goers, she gripped the man by his collar and slammed him into the wall with immortal force. Her body was pressed against his, and for a fleeting moment, the man's aroused face was expectant, like this was going to be the fuck of his dreams, like she was some horny slut that would simply beg to be fucked, just like the internet porn she was sure he was fantasizing about when he first eyed her. With the crack his skull suffered against the brick, however, Ruby was satisfied his countenance turned from turned on to frighteningly so. She released the pressure her body was putting on him, this allowed for some rebut from the man, however all he did was grip her shoulders and push her away unsuccessfully. B kicked his shin with her boot hard enough for a good amount of pain, but questionably enough to break. Nonetheless, it sent him forward and his hands off of her. Ruby grabbed his the back of his shirt venomously, jerking him up abruptly, slamming his face into the wall opposite of that she had him up against before. She dragged a moaning man to his feet then, pressing her hands on his chest while he remained dazed and gazed up at his bloody face. "So sorry, mon ami,"

[/color] she spoke icily, her fingers winding themselves into his dark hair as her other hand traveled down his chest to rest somewhere below his belt. She couldn't help but tease.

The fingers in his hair gripped tightly suddenly, pulled his head away from the wall and to the side harshly before she stood on her very toes to reach his sweaty neck. Her fang's suck deep, and her bottom incisors chewed their way through his flesh to make a cookie-cutter wound, a scoop of flesh. She spat the hunk of meat back out onto the floor as he screamed and did his very best to struggle, her fingers just pulled on his hair and pressed his skull into the wall painfully, a low growl admitted form her throat before she delved into his esophagus again and again.

By the time Ruby was through, the man had half a neck and her face, throat and upper most part of her coat were soaked with blood. She licked up what she could, and sent the body slumping to the ground so she'd be free to check her mirror and make use of her handkerchief. "You nasty little bitch, look what you did to my clothes, asshole," she spoke to herself softly, kicking over the dead corpse at her feet as she worked. A great weight was lifted from her shoulders, and she stood relaxed, fixing herself up for the world with only the background sounds of Paris to enlighten her... or so she thought.
[/justify]

THIS IS TAGGED TO EVE. ELLIE HAS BEEN LISTENING TO LADY GAGA AS SHE WROTE THIS 1344 WORD POST HERE WHERE B IS WEARING THIS, AND SHE'D ALSO LIKE YOU TO KNOW, SHOW ME YOUR TEETH, THE TRUTH IS SEXY ~.

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[evelyn]

Her lip curved in annoyance as she scowled toward the wall for only a mere second before returning her face to a somewhat more normal expression. Her irritation was hardly about the bite, but more toward how the boy decided to handle that situation. How terribly disappointing it was to be invited here by an old acquaintance, only to have him scurry off at the first mentioning of physical contact. Men. They were always too easy to excite and provoke, even when she wasn't doing it intentionally. There mere sight of smooth, long legs or the slight brush of skin on skin contact was enough to cause their little sticks to stand at full attention. How pathetic and weak, these hormonal freaks who were taught no better than to howl at every slender yet curvaceous beauty that walked by. Evelyn never did understand how someone could allow themselves to become so weak with excitement so easily.

"Well, that was a waste of my night."

A rather obvious observation spilled out from the now very bored woman's lips. She took her spot once again by the wall as her back leaned and rested against the cool stone bricks. Within seconds her mind had already forgotten about the previous moments and began to search around her archived memories of Paris and all of the places she had once been to while visiting this old city. These memories quickly became of no use to her after a while; she had traveled around too many cities for so long that now they all started to blend and look identical. To go through and pick out which buildings belonged to which city would take much more effort and time than she was willing to put forth. By the time her useless moment of thought was over, trickles of water danced against her skin. Not that she would notice too much at this point; Evelyn certainly didn't mind walking int he rain without an umbrella. It would make for a very easy excuse to get a rich boy to take her into his home, though.

She barely picked up her foot before gently placing it back down with not even a clack as a scented tickled against her nose. There was now the debate of staying for a show or taking off before the approaching female vampire noticed that she had just slipped into an alley that was already accompanied by another vampire. When it came to vampires that were strangers, the situation was always somewhat unexpected for more reasons than the fact that Evelyn wasn't quite like the other humans that were sired. Instincts her tugging her body to viciously attack this intruder and let her know that she would have to wait her turn; this area was currently being occupied by another and she was not currently welcomed here. By default, she was a solitary creature who preferred to keep away from others, but since nearly every other vampire was a human first, their own instincts and thoughts were usually vastly different from her own.

Logic, mixed in with a splash of curiosity, told her to remain quiet and still as she continued to observe the scene before her. Evelyn's presence had obviously gone unnoticed so far, which could probably clue her in that this vampire was either extremely focused on satisfying her hunger, or incredibly young. The scent of blood already rushing through her veins proved her first assumption wrong; she appeared extremely focused, but not to satisfy a physical hunger. Fledglings usually have that kind of behavior, but her attire quickly pushed aside all thoughts of her being freshly bitten. The era of her style was too authentic to be someone modern who was inspired by the ..... Evelyn was guessing sometime during the early twentieth century. She was always a terrible guess of age by clothing though, unless if it from her own time. People just didn't wear bodices and long-tailed skirts like they used to, though.

Like a scientist studying the behavior of a lion in hunt, her eyes remained fixed on the show as her head slowly cocked to the side in slight amusement and curiosity. She was certainly pissed, or at least that's how this scene displayed her to be. Surprisingly so, nothing appeared to be too gruesome in Evelyn's eyes. Messy, yes, but to be considered something disgustingly sick or an abnormal hunting technique, no. If anything, she applauded that the woman didn't just place tiny fang marks in his neck and drain him dry.

A huffed chuckled breathed out from her lips at the woman's remarks as she dropped her dirty little dish and checked herself in the mirror. Finally moving, Evelyn's black heels clacked against the dirtied concrete below as she made her way toward the scene of attack, having made the decision that she could handle the exposure whether this woman was viciously dangerous or not. Pausing for a brief moment in front of the two bodies, her light blue eyes glanced down at the dried up corpse that laid limp on the ground. His wide eyes were enough to cause her mouth to crave dessert, and without giving the vampire a second glance she looked up and immediately around the area with her ears and nose twitching at various sounds. "Hm, it seems as though you are contagious, darling."

The words weren't really directed toward her, despite being spoken about her as Evelyn's eyes shifted toward a small boutique across the street. Taking in another slight sniff, she noticed that these clothes were nearly drowned in the stench of liquor, smoke, and that darling skiddish Lawrence. Leave it to the rain to only cause the scents to become more potent as they clung onto her fabrics; she was definitely in need of a quick shopping trip. Finally taking one more glance at the corpse and then at the woman beside her, she made a simple comment of acknowledgment, "Impressive," and then made her way across the street to pick up a new outfit.

Besides the fact that Evelyn was hardly the type to socialize, she saw no real reason to make conversation about witnessing this woman having dinner. It was neither an exciting or interesting topic, and there were other things that had to be done momentarily, like getting the adorable gay salesman to give this cute London girl a discount on that window mannequin's outfit.

ATTIRE CHANGING TO THIS