How I wish this drink could help (Elliot)

[CharlotteC]

Charlie gave an amused little snort as he stumbled over his words and then took on that commanding presence that was befitting a person in command and control - as any boss should be. At least, any good boss. Still she couldn't help but find it amusing that she had caught him on it, that he was joining her at the bar when he was 'working'. He had his point though, he was the boss, he could do what he wanted when he wanted and she wasn't about to tell him otherwise. She didn't know if it was the fact that they traveled the same path that made her feel like she could trust him all the more of if it was just him, but she did feel like he would not do to her what Killian had done.

Then his glass was clinking against hers, pulling her out of her thoughts and she smiled and nodded, lifting her own glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of the alcohol, closing her eyes for a moment so that she could savor the sweet taste. Rum, a lovely invention. That made her think of the factors that played in the invention of such a thing, it was a mere accident that played a big part, and the name itself, Rum was just a shortened name from its original that meant 'Rambunctious'. She remembered all the times her friends had gotten hammered, before and after clubs, they were definitely rambunctious, though she was sure, that they had each drank more than one kind of drink.

She smirked as she pulled herself out of her thoughts and glanced back to Elliot as he spoke about not getting those kinds of people, the kinds of people that used to live in her dorm and go to her school. It amazed her that people so smart could act so stupid but at the same time, she was sure that people like her did that because of so many other things than just their smarts. Still she shook it off and smiled to him, taking another sip of the rum, letting it do it's soft burn down her throat before she spoke. "Now don't say that! You'll make me feel old too! And I'm far from that!" She said with a teasing laugh "In all seriousness though, people, even smart people, do stupid things because they can. Eventually, that stupidness will catch up to them. Or at least, we can hope." She said with a soft laugh. "Take them out of the breeding pool."

[Lancaster]

There was something about strong alcohol that could not be compared to anything else. Not just the taste, not just the burn, but a variety of things all stacked up together to create a unique experience. As the liquid slid smoothly down Elliot’s throat, he closed his eyes, head falling to the side as he revelled in that unique experience. Every single time, if he closed his eyes and focused on the burn, on the taste as it touched each individual tastebud, it was as if every taste bud held a different memory; every single time that he had had a drink of that particular brand of alcohol, the memory of it fled in a silent, still shiver down his spine. A virulent, and yet harmonious storm sashaying around inside his head, a tornado tunnelling toward his soul.

So many memories. He cherished very single one of them, used them as his inspiration, and drew upon them when he needed strength to go on. Because something he lost that particular strength. Sometimes, the force of this life got the better of him, and he had to rely on those around him to pull him out of the pit that he would dig himself into. He required the memories of a human past to recall who he was, who he should remain. He could never lose touch, never let go of his humanity. If he ever did, he feared what he might become. For all his grand opinions on morality and rightness, he knew exactly what he himself could be capable of.

The storm ceased as the alcohol fizzled and was consumed. Elliot’s eyes blinked open, and Charlotte’s voice swirled around him. He nodded as he focused. His head rolled on his shoulders.

”Maybe we’re old souls, you and I,” he said, lifting his drink in salute. ”And though we will remain looking as we are, our souls will grow old. Very old, if we are careful. And we will not breed – not insomuch as we might have been expected to. And that breeding pool well… some might say it’s a veritable buffet now, mightn’t they?” he asked. Of course, he didn’t dip into that particular buffet himself, of course. But others did, and maybe he was bitter about it. Not that he couldn’t taste the blood of humans anymore, but because he was powerless to stop it – the meaningless death that sometimes resulted from his kin’s need to feed.

[CharlotteC]

Charlie smiled a bit as he began to speak. Though they were his words, she couldn't help but hear it in her mother's voice, as she had said the same thing.time and time again. She took another sip of her drink finishing it off before she set it on the counter and turned her attention onto Elliot once more as he continued to talk, shaking away the mild pang of hurt from missing her parents - parents she knew where still searching for her. Instead, she concentrated on the rest of what Elliot had to say, the idea of her soul getting older, much older if they were careful, made her smile a bit. Maybe in time things would change. Maybe she would be able to come out to human's other than her thrall, come out and say she was a vampire without the fear of being killed because she had confided in someone.

Again, she shook the thoughts out of her head as she thought about what else he said, about how the breeding pool was now a buffet. Perhaps those that fed and killed those they fed on, but she didn't she had realized one time when she fed on Rhett that he had remembered her feeding on him. Now, she was strictly a blood bag feeder unless she had become too distracted, then Rhett would be the one to feed her. She smiled a bit to Elliot and gave a shrug to him, "As much as I think they should be taken out of the breeding pool, I don't really care for the idea of others out there feeding and killing them. Just because their morons doesn't mean they deserve to die." She said softly.

Yeah, sure, there were a bunch of the human population that should die for the things they did to others, but she seemed to notice that it was those people that lucked out and got a second life as what she was now. For a moment she wondered if she herself had been one of those that hadn't been worthy of a second chance and yet, she had willingly given her life to see what it would be like as she was now. She sighed softly and glanced to her glass for a moment "My mother used to call me an old soul. Sometimes I wish I could go back and see her, just let her known that I am safe and healthy. I guess that can never be though, at least not without ending up in that... horrible place again." She said with a visible shudder.

[Lancaster]

Take them out of the breeding pool. It was such an innocent turn of phrase, but it caused a niggling in Elliot’s brain. A niggling that may as well have been the loose rock that began the avalanche; he found himself nodding to Charlie. Yes, of course, people might be idiots but they don’t deserve to die. Of course, yes, he agreed. Wholeheartedly. And yet…

There was that guy, last week. The one that wouldn’t shutup about the pool table – how it was broken, how it wouldn’t release the balls, how the establishment was unworthy, just because of a goddamned broken pool table. Elliot remembered the way he imagined pulling the dagger from his boot, and sliding it, like a hot knife through butter, across the human’s neck. He imagined the hot blood, spurting, spilling over the floor and all the other drunken, slovenly occupants of the bar. How, deep down, he wondered whether he might enjoy watching the guy twitch and die as the blood slowly fled from his body.

And that one woman, perhaps in her later 50s but dressed like she thought she was 20. Fake boobs, fake lips, far too much make-up, maybe even a wig. Racist bigot, spouting religious ******** that Elliot couldn’t abide. He’d imagined smashing the wine bottle he was holding over her head, and stabbing out her eyes with the shards still attached to the neck. And had wondered then, too, whether he might enjoy hearing her scream for mercy.

This was not who he was. Always, he had said, always try to live in other people’s shoes and understand that their views aren’t always the same. That some people are just having a bad day, and they have to be forgiven for their foulness. He didn’t like the images that flashed through his brain. Nor could he stop them.

He frowned. He let the subject drop.

He cleared his throat and took another heavy swig of alcohol.

”I still call my mother every now and again. She is in Australia, though, and is used to me never being home, and never coming back,” he shrugged. ”I know I’ll have to stop, sooner or later but… I don’t see why you can’t. Just… a phone call. Even a simple visit. She doesn’t need to know what you are. If it brings you small peace of mind – just be careful about how you go about it,” he offered.

[CharlotteC]

Charlie gently bit down on her lower lip as Elliot spoke about how he still called his mother, her eyes rested on her empty glass, her finger gently running around the rim for a moment. Then she sighed and looked up at him. "If I called my mother, even just to hear her voice again, she would come to me, that's the problem with her being just on the other side of the boarder. As it is she and my father have been searching for me since I vanished." She suddenly wished she had more to drink, but she didn't and she sighed and ran her hand through her hair before turning her chocolate gaze back on Elliot. "I did something stupid, I mean besides running away. I walked in on my fiance and my best friend... I sort of." She sighed again and then bit the proverbial bullet "Beat the living **** out of them before getting my stuff and getting the hell out of the country."

She gave a shrug and then sighed again, "Ever since then I have been keeping tabs on the press near my home, my parents from what I can tell are still searching for me. I think my father even suspects that I made my way here. But this place..." She stopped, "And with the way those people are, the way they took me out just because of who turned me. I don't want either of them anywhere near this place, and I can just imagine what would happen if somehow word got out that I went to visit and bang, all of a sudden I'm a target again for a second gang bang before I'm even a year old to this life."

It was at that time that her phone beeped and she pulled it out to check the time. "Crap!! I have to get going. If I'm not home soon, I'll likely pass out behind the wheel, or here on the bar stool. I'm pretty sure that you would have a hard time explaining how you have a dead girl laying in the middle of your pub." She said with a laugh and stood up, she placed some money on the counter. "Just because I'm your runt now, shouldn't mean I should skip out on the tab." She said with a laugh and then gave him a quick hug "I really, need to run." She said, because it was only 30 minutes before she would be hitting the ground like a ton of bricks. "I'll call you or bug you on the crow when I wake up tomorrow night. And Thank you again for what you are doing for me."She said before waving to him and heading out of the pub.

[Lancaster]

Elliot wasn’t sure whether Charlotte was really worried about passing out, or whether she was using it as an excuse to run away; the conversation, at the end that, had got quite heavy. It had Elliot frowning, wanting to reach out and comfort the girl in the only way he knew how. With words. He may or may not have been able to think of the right things to say, but he could have tried. He wouldn’t have told her to fight and be strong and do things against her own judgment. That would have been stupid. He knew what Tytonidae were like; he’d seen how they’d affected the people around him. They’d never done anything to him, however; but then he’d never done anything to incur their wrath. Not really.

Sure, he had rebelled in the small ways. Wearing Summer clothes in Winter, for one. Selling blood in a pub where humans frequented. And he would never bat an eyelash to help those who needed it, whether they’d broken the ‘law’ or not. Sure, yes, he believed in the Masquerade insofar as he did not believe in the human race to be understanding and welcoming. He would keep the Masquerade – he would not willingly reveal himself or their kind, only because he thought it would keep those he cared about safe.

But he did not agree with Tytonidae’s tactics. He did not like that they had bullied Charlotte so much that she was afraid to even talk to her own mother. And, that aside, he was sad for her – that her past had occurred in such a way that she felt like she couldn’t. At least Elliot had a buffer. His own mother was used to it. She knew that he liked to travel and that he rarely came home. She would only send people out to look for him, to ask about his whereabouts, if he failed to contact her. To keep her safe, he had to contact her. It kept her at bay. It reminded her that he was alive. It kept her happy – or as happy as a mother could be with an absent son. It was okay, though. She had Richard.

Charlotte ran off and Elliot finished up at the bar. It didn’t take him long. All he had to do to keep himself from passing out and staying there all day was pull the tome from his pocket. And, from the Den, take the portal to the crypt where he would find Pi. And a bed. And comfort, contentment. He hoped that Charlotte would find the same thing when she got home.

And, with that thought in mind, he pulled the tome from his pocket and spoke the words that would take him home.