How I wish this drink could help (Elliot)

[CharlotteC]

Charlie stared off at her computer, her eyes not really focused on any one thing even as the code before her ran its sequences over and over again. Her fingers moved, the hackings continued but she still didn't 'see' what she was doing. Charlie couldn't, she just couldn't concentrate. Something was wrong, she could feel it. First her sire had been missing for months, the 5th was falling to pieces bit by small bit, and then a few days ago, her thrall, Rhett, told her that he had seen Killian up and about near the Wickbridge Bank. That made her rather happy and she had tried to contact him, to call him, with no answer. And now, she could feel the same sort of feeling she had right after Killian had been killed by the Ty, only this felt different.

She stood up before she put her fist through the screen of her computer and looked away. Her decoy stood near the window of her apartment, blindly looking out as if waiting for something or someone. Again she had the urge to punch something. She glanced around her apartment that she shared with her daughter, her daughter that always was out and about in the QZ or the Catacombs killing the monsters that lurked there. The apartment was empty, everyone gone to do their own things. She needed to get out too. To do something she hadn't in a while. She grabbed her leather jacket and her keys, and pulled her door shut behind her as she turned the corner and headed into the elevator that was literally a step just outside her door.

The doors opened in the lobby of her apartment, there were a few humans hanging around, and a vampire or two, neither that she knew of but she was getting good at spotting the differences between mortal and immortal. She slipped passed a human, picking their pockets as she did and then went right for her car the moment she was outside. She plugged in the place she wanted to go to into her GPS and soon found herself there, there in front of Lancaster's. Charlie had only been in the place once before, but the last time she was there, it was with someone who was rather attentive and willing to talk to her. That's what she needed, someone to talk to. Someone to hang with who got her, and in a way, he did because they shared a path, plus he could drink like she could and even if she couldn't get drunk, she knew the actions alone would help.

Charlie walked into the bar and glanced around for its owner, the male that had helped her out once before. Elliot. While she continued to look around the area for him, she moved over to one of the seats near the fireplace, glancing back at the stage before relaxing to the heat of the fireplace near by. She pulled her leather jacket off and set it over the arm of the chair she was sitting on and just closed her eyes, listening to the music. Maybe just getting out of her apartment, being surrounded by people in general would help. In truth though, she really did need someone to talk to, someone that she could talk openly to.

[Lancaster]

Business was good, as ever. There were slow nights, and there were busy nights that made up for the slow ones. Slow nights were the hardest; the time went the slowest, and there were only so many things one could do. When the glasses were clean and the stock was all filled, when the place was spotless and the customers were all happy, it’s hard to just sit back and twiddle one’s thumbs. On those nights, Elliot normally sent his casuals home.

The busy nights were the best ones; they were fun, even. Bouncing around from customer to customer, hardly able to keep up with their orders but doing so anyway – keeping them all happy and boisterous was a thing that Elliot delighted in. He wanted his establishment to be one that people wanted to come to for the atmosphere, and good customer service was always part of a good atmosphere. In fact, he had concluded that good customer service was a staple to a good atmosphere. All these things he had learned off the cuff, of course. He’d never managed a business, let alone owned one. He’d had to slowly try to learn all the ins and outs, and had finally reached a point where he thought he had it all worked out.

Tonight, however, was one of those in-between nights. Not dead quiet, but not overly busy either. The tide could slip either way. The boisterous ones could leave for somewhere a little more upbeat, or they could stay, and tell all their friends to come join them. They could make a lot of noise in their enjoyment, and people might wander in off the street simply because it looked and sounded like a good place to be.

Elliot sought to entertain the masses. He was up on the stage with his guitar – just the acoustic. One might think that there was no way he’d be able to rally that crowd with just an acoustic guitar, but he had his ways. The crowd gathered in front of the stage were young; probably college students. The majority of them were girls. Able to read his crowd like a book, Elliot decided to do a few covers, rather than his own songs which most pegged as morose. He cycled through a few different covers – one of them Florence and the Machine’s Sweet Nothing. He laughed along with the crowd when his baritone voice cracked in the high parts. They screamed at him when he finished, their near-adolescent voices shouting demands, requests. He relished the challenges. He leaned down to pay particular attention to an enthusiastic girl – a tiara on her head proclaimed that it was her twenty-first birthday.

She asked for Miley Cyrus.

”Alright, yeah. Sure. But I warn you, this could be ugly,” he laughs, his voice bouncing into the microphone and projected out to the rest of the pub. He resumed his position behind it, and began to play Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball. His birthday present to that girl on her twenty-first birthday. The gleam in her eye and the laughter on her lips was entirely worth it. Even though he had not written the song he still infused every word with heavy emotion, his baritone shouting the chorus in a way that might put some people off, but didn’t seem to bother the college students who danced around in front of the stage.

When he finished, he had to feign exhaustion. He cleared his throat and claimed that after such a performance, he needed to go get a drink – he was about to lose his voice. Although the girls protested, he ignored them. He switched the music back to the juke box, put his guitar away, and stepped off the stage. He was making his way back to the bar, collecting a few empty glasses on the way, when he recognised Charlotte at the fireplace. He backtracked, pushed his hair out of his eyes and nodded.

”Charlie! Haven’t seen you in a while,” he starts, and even with his vampirism, his voice was still a little rough. The song had done a number on him. ”How are ya?”

[Song + Attire]

[CharlotteC]

Charlie gave the slightest snicker as she listened to the girl's request and then Elliot's actual agreement to sing such a song. She didn't know what was more amusing, the girl requesting that he sing something by that ridiculous girl or the fact that he agreed to do so. Still, as he began to play, Charlie couldn't help but be impressed by how he was able to play the song at all. She would have to ask him about that later - after she teased him within an inch of his life that he did so in the first place - how he managed to play it so well.

Throughout the song she kept her amused smile on her face, her eyes closed, just listening to everything. The sound of Elliot singing, the sound of the girls cheering, the sound of people playing pool and chatting. It all filled her ears to the point that she was almost tempted to try to tune something out. When the song came to a close, she smirked a little more as Elliot feigned exhaustion and switched back the music from the jukebox. The sound of him moving around the room and eventually his voice as he spoke to her.

Charlie opened her brown eyes, fluttering them a little to ease herself back to the light of the room before she let that amused, 'I'm-going-to-enjoy-this' smile danced to her face. "I could have been better, now I'm trying not to curl up on the floor as I laugh my *** off." She teased as she glanced back at the stage and then back up at him. "In all seriousness though, I just really needed to get the hell out of my apartment, and what I wouldn't give for the ability to get drunk right now." She said softly and then gave a little, cleansing sigh. "How about you, Mr. Cyrus?" She said with another playful smile on her face.

It was going to take her a really really long time to get him singing that song out of her head. A really long time. Especially considering she remembered everything anyone ever said to her or anything she ever read. The perks - and sometimes curse - of a photographic memory.

[Lancaster]

Elliot, perhaps a little too chummy, dumps the dirty glasses he’s collected onto a nearby table and drops himself into one of the chairs near Charlie. He even goes so far as to pull it a little closer, so that they can hear each other over the noise in the pub. Not that they’d have had any trouble hearing each other anyway, but what’s more creepy than two people talking to each other from a distance? Elliot had always clung to his humanity, and though he’d come to terms, now, with the things he was capable of and the violence he could sometimes be inclined toward, he still acted out of habit. And habit was heavily ingrained into him. He had been human for thirty-six years and only a vampire for two and a half. Of course he was going to stick to what he knew best.

He was laughing at Charlie’s comments. He got himself into these situations and was quite able to laugh at himself. In fact, it was something he enjoyed doing. No one should ever take themselves too seriously. It only ever led to conflict.

”Hey now! Billy Ray is a cool guy. Though I’m sure he might be offended if you tainted his name by giving it to me,” he said with the barest hint of a wink. ”I should think that laughter would make you feel better rather than worse,” he added. There was still a hint of laughter in his deep voice, but those blue eyes of his narrowed just a little in concern. As much as Charlotte teased and laughed there was a hint of bitterness to her response, too. And, now that he was focusing on her, and only her, he could feel it, too. Something wasn’t quite right with his friend. He wouldn’t intrude, though. He wouldn’t push. Maybe it was how she said it was. She just wanted to get out of the apartment. Maybe it wasn’t with the intention of spilling her woes to someone. Still, Elliot was the kind of guy who’d listen if anyone needed a shoulder to cry on, and it never could hurt to remind them, every now and again.

”If it will make you feel better, I can go up there and sing… I don’t know. Some Justin Bieber? They do say that laughter is an aphrodisiac. Or a…no! An endorphin, that’s what it is. Maybe endorphins will do you far more good than alcohol,” he said. ”I’m good, excellent,” he said, and he was not lying. She could probably tell that already, given his mood and his propensity to laughter. ”But why do I get the feeling you didn’t come here to find out how good I am?” he asked.

[CharlotteC]

Charlie watched, with some amusement, as Elliot discarded the glasses he had set about picking up, on a table and plopped down into a chair, bringing it closer so they could talk to each other seemingly over the music, music that wasn't even that loud. She smiled as he defended Billy Ray, the idea that her friend was into someone that was so hoaky was more than amusing to her. "Oh, my friend, I'm sure you would do him justice. In fact, now i'm curious but that can wait till your little fan club," she pointed to the group of girls and continued, "clear out, don't want them throwing panties at you now do we?" She was teasing of course, "And laughter does make me feel better, actually just being out and I guess in your presence is working wonders on my current mood, but haven't you ever laughed so hard it hurt?"

She leaned forward a bit, leaning against the arm of the chair towards him, "If you sing Bieber at any time, in any way around me, I will shoot you. You are one of the people I respect the most around here and I will shot you." She said seriously. She could not, would not stand that little pip squeak Justin Bieber. And if America did manage to send him back to Canada, that would be the one and only human she would hunt down, kill and then display his head on a spike.

Then Charlie smiled again, her seriousness fading away as she nodded to him "Endorphin and I am glad to hear that you are doing good." Then she gave a little bit of a sigh before she continued on "And your feelings would be right, I'm not just here to find out how you are, if I wanted to do that I could just call, right?" She said with sad laugh before she leaned in a bit more. "I'm just having a hard time of things I think. With this world. My sire and all that." She said softly to him before she leaned back and rested against her chair. "I just feel so alone sometimes. Yeah, I have my th... roommate and I have a childe that adores me, but still I feel alone, I haven't seen my sire since he asked me to join his group, a group that got me killed..." she said and then fell silent for a moment as she looked over at the bar. "God I wish I could get drunk."

[Lancaster]

Elliot shudders. The thought of his fan club, as she put it, throwing panties at him was not something he wanted to consider. He didn’t think anybody had ever thrown panties at him – he wasn’t that big of a rock star, not by a long shot. And from them, specifically, he’d feel dirty. He was old in comparison. They were more than ten years younger than he was. No way he’d ever think of snatching from the cradle in quite a big way. Sure, he knew a lot of people did it, but he was not one of those people. No, he was happy with his Pi – she was deliciously all his, and mature to boot.

He laughed lightly and nodded when she asked if he’d ever laughed so much it hurt. Often, actually, and it wasn’t a state of being that he disliked. It was a good kind of pain, like the ache he once felt in his limbs after a particularly strenuous workout. A trek uphill that lasted hours, the after effect only showing up the next day – calves and buttocks and muscles that he never even knew existed, complaining about being worked too much. But it was a nice ache. It felt like he had achieved something, then. And it was the same with laughter. Life’s got to be good if you’re laughing so much it hurts.

He didn’t quite stay as serious as Charlie as she threatened him; he kept that gleam to his eye and that smile dancing on the edges of his lips. He didn’t tell he that she could shoot him all she liked – it would heal. Such was their existence. And it wasn’t something that was below him, either – he’d cover any song, so long as he knew he could. It was always a challenge.

It was only as she continued that he had to frown disapprovingly at her.

”Don’t get me wrong. Getting drunk can be fun. But so long as you’re doing it for fun, rather than to drown out your misery,” he said. ”You’re only ever as alone as you want to be. You’re here, aren’t you? You have me. See? You’re not alone,” he says, spreading his hands as if he’d just solved the mystery to life, the universe and everything. He wouldn’t disregard what she’d said, however. It was a legitimate issue, and he supposed it was one that a lot of the newly turned dealt with. Especially if sires aren’t around to help to ease the transition – and the transition could last for years. Elliot was a prime case of needing a very long time to come to terms with what he was, and Pi had been at his side the entire time.

”It’s not ideal, the way your sire is. Where is he now?” Elliot asked. ”You wouldn’t consider trying to talk to him? Or is he not responding?” Elliot asked, always wanting to get to the heart of the problem.

[CharlotteC]

Charlie knew what he said was true, drowning ones sorrows in a bottle of liquor didn't help. She was smart enough to know that alcohol itself was a depressor, it only served to bring out the hormones and chemicals that made someone relax and/or feel worse. It really wasn't the answer, of course, she knew what would be, if it had any effect on her. Alas, it wouldn't even if she knew where to score some in this weird city that she was calling her home now. Charlie refocused on Elliot as he continued to speak and she could only nod to what he had to say. She was in fact here. She did in fact have him to talk to. That was the part that brought back a soft smile to her face.

She relaxed a bit more into the seat as he went on to ask her where her sire was, did she consider to talk to him or if he answered. Charlie knew the answers to the last two, but the first. She had no idea where the man was, last she had heard he had been spotted at or near the Wickbridge bank by her thrall but aside from that she had heard nothing from him.

"Last I heard he had been spotted by my roommate, when he went to the bank in Wickbridge. But Templeton isn't exactly what I call social, so he only really ever talks to me, so he didn't draw attention to the fact that he had seen him. Just left me a message on my phone. Of course, this was after months of him being straight up gone. Where he was then I had no idea, wasn't answering his phone or even seen for a long time. I tried to take up the slack with the group he brought me into, but because I was so new plus everyone seemed to be jumping ship after nearly all of us were gang banged by that group. It was impossible."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair before she continued "Now I don't have a clue where he is again but I have a feeling he no longer wants to even talk to me, or I have disappointed him so much that he's done something stupid. I don't know. It's just... not right, ya know?" She said "I've tried calling him, I've tried going to where he lives, alas now that I am what I am, I can no longer get in without his invite, and I haven't really even seen him since I was in that dreadful place."

Charlie wrapped her arms around herself, she would strive to do just about anything not to go back to that place. Of course she still thought that it was ******** that she had been sent there in the first place, but whining about it did nothing, plus who would listen anyways. Her eyes lifted to Elliot's and she shook her head at the man. "I just don't know what to do."

[Lancaster]

Elliot leaned forward, his elbows resting upon his knees. His long-fingered hands, so used to holding instruments, were clasped below his chin. Although the dark hair fell over his eyes, he left it there – he got sick of constantly pushing it out of the way, and he couldn’t cut it off. It always grew back, far too quickly. Always to the exact same length as it was the night he was turned. He often joked with Pi about it – why couldn’t she have cleaned him up a bit, let him have a shave, before turning him?! Of course the answer was always the same – there wouldn’t have been time, anyway. He had been on death’s door.

Elliot frowned. There was once that he had considered disappearing himself. In fact, he had burrowed himself into that dank and dripping room down in the sewers in the darkness and the relative silence. Too much of a coward, he had not killed himself. But he had not thought himself fit for this life, and felt the weight of more guilt than a man could possibly bear. It crushed him, and took him to a place he barely escaped from. Perhaps it was the same with Charlie’s sire? Perhaps there was more going on than she could know.

Pi’s fury, and her love, was enough to bring Elliot out of his state of disgrace. He had not thought of those he would be leaving behind; those that he had sired, he would have abandoned. In Charlie, now, he can see one such poor soul – abandoned, and not knowing why. Maybe it was that guilt, still churning around in his soul, where it would always be. But it urged him on; he could not sit there and watch another soul suffer.

”Well. What if I were to … offer you another place to go to?” he asked. ”I mean, another group, I suppose,” he flinched, and shrugged his shoulders. ”Quite a few of us aren’t around much, and there are some who are… disagreeable. The d’Artois are a bit of a mismatched group, but there are places you can go to be safe. And at least a couple of other people I can introduce you to…” he offered with an arched brow and another half shrug of his shoulders. A silent question.

[CharlotteC]

Charlie lifted her head a little, her rubbing of her own arms stilling as her brow lifted a little in question as to just what he was talking about. 'A place to go to'? She had her apartment, but then he said a group and she locked her gaze on him a bit more, her brow relaxing into place again as she listened to what he had to say. She didn't really understand what it was that he was offering her, but then again being in another group, that sort of made her worry, the last group she had joined had basically got her killed, sent to the SR. And once again she began to rub her arms a little at the thought of that place. Then she shook herself out of it and took a deep, cleansing breath, wither her body needed it or not, her mind did.

"I would like to meet some more people, though, disagreeable? In what way? And d’Artois? Isn't that your family..." She stopped for a moment, is that what he was actually asking her? Asking if she wanted to be a part of his family? She shook her head for a moment, she wasn't about to jump to any conclusions, to assume something that he may or may not be offering her. She would wait for a fuller confirmation before she jumped to an answer. "I would like to meet more people though," she reaffirmed and added in "I don't really know what exactly it is you are offering though, just meeting people you know or..." She stopped again and glanced around before she relaxed back in her seat.

This was a rather odd thing to happen tonight, given the fact that she had really just come here to drink and to talk about things, to clear the air. In a way, she had to guess, that she was getting what she wanted, talking to someone that she felt that she could trust, of course, she had thought that about Robert as well and the moment she mentioned Cordelia to him, he had flipped and basically made it out that she would be the target of some unpleasant attacks because of her if she didn't show the true death to the little thing she saved. Her friend's sister - though she hadn't seen her friend since she had turned Cordy - was on her death bed and Charlie believed she was saving the girl. She sighed and once again focused on Elliot, waiting to hear his answer to her questions, especially that 'disagreeable' part. That sort of set alarm bells off.

[Lancaster]

Confusion touched the air between them, a vibration, a melody even discernable only to Elliot. It was mixed in with other vibrations, other melodies – despair, maybe? Trepidation? This ability Elliot had learned was quite helpful. His tongue stuck for a moment to the top of his mouth as he watched Charlie, blue eyes dancing across her features, reading her like a book. Of course, although every person was an open book some were easier to understand than others. Some were children’s books, with clear intent. Some were whimsical, some were not. Some were a little deeper, with a lot more happening within their pages; a little more difficult to figure out. Just like Charlie.

So as not to come across too eager, or too excitable – Elliot tended to get a little over-excited when it came to helping and interacting with new people – he gave a short shrug.

”Yes. I called them a group because, well, family is a loose term and they particularly act like a family,” he explains. ”They’re nothing like a faction. Sure, you can opt to join Canidae d’Artois if you like, if that’s more your flavor. But I think what I’m offering is that, for all intents and purposes, I can treat you as if you were my own…turned,” he hesitates, a pregnant pause while he organizes his own thoughts and intentions within his own mind so as to offer them eloquently.

”If you are lacking that kind of support, I can be that for you. By including you in d’Artois, as it were, you would have access to our Crownet. I can introduce you to Reilly, who is the family banker. He has a couple of million on hand, ready to purchase anything you might need urgently but might lack the funds for. Of course, you do have to pay him back. But you can do so at your own leisure,” he says. ”You will also have access to a few other places, if you need somewhere to crash, or somewhere to go to stay safe,” he says. For the moment, only Canidae have access to the Den, and the passages and portals and other amenities within. Elliot bites his tongue to keep from talking about Canidae, or the Den. It seemed as if Canidae wasn’t actually, at that point in time, a very active ‘faction’. He would suggest to Pi that they open the Den up to all d’Artois again. But until then, would refrain from mentioning its existence.

He stopped, then, his hands clasped in front of him as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. The hair had fallen in front of his eyes again, but he wasn’t too bothered. He just left it there, waiting to hear what Charlie might think of his offer.