♪ Be careful what you eat ♪ (CLOSED)

[Skylar]

I pop the caps off the beers and consider what Elliot told me. I needed to want to control Dillon. Well that wasn't going to be difficult, I'd been wanting that since the day I'd met him. We had a weird relationship to say the least. Half the time we couldn't stand one another and yet I still stayed at his more often than not. We argued like siblings, are always looking to outdo the other and quite often end up in bed when I've had too much to drink. I shrug to myself and start to walk over to my annoying friend before I realise I forgot to grab a glass for Roxy. She doesn't look like the sort that would be bothered by drinking from the bottle but I didn't want to be rude to Elliot's slave. I double back, grab a glass from the cabinet and go to hand over the beers. I place Roxy's bottle and glass on coasters on the coffee table and then shove the Dillon's bottle into his hands.
"What? No glass for me?" he teases me as I walk away.
"Oh bite me," I reply, going to grab my own beer from off the counter.
"Maybe later, when we're alone," he laughs.
I roll my eyes to myself, and take a big gulp of beer. It's not my favourite but keeping the hard liquor in the cabinets is dangerous business in this flat. Drinking games are started for the flimsiest of reasons. We don't seem to get so out of control on beer though, so there's usually more than enough of the stuff in the fridge.
"So anyways, that reminds me," I say, kicking off with the plan. "You can blame him for me biting you." I thumb in Elliot's direction and take another large swig from my bottle. "He told me that drinking blood was good for the vocal chords or something and I wanted to test it. I feel kind of silly now. I mean... I shouldn't have bitten you like that."
Dillon looks startled by the change in conversation, bashful even, as he hadn't expected to have me explain about the biting in front of company.
"I guess I just wanted to make a good impression upon Elliot. He's in the music biz you see, so I assumed he knew what he was talking about."
I turn to face Elliot, my back to the others for a moment and I grin at him before turning back to the other's with a more apologetic look on my face.
"Must be nearing that time in the month," I add as if that explains why I'd listen to such obvious nonsense.
I notice Dillon's rubbing at the area of his neck where I tore into him. The marks are almost gone and that in itself should have told him I was lying. People usually get scars, but all you can see on his neck are the teeth marks, like I'd bitten him really hard but not actually punctured the skin.
"S'alright Sky. No harm, no foul. But next time try not to draw blood m'kay?"
"Like I want to do that again."
I can't help snapping at him. He gets under my skin. I should be nicer, I know that. I should be begging for his forgiveness and playing nice for the sake of all vampire kind but the moment Dillon open's his mouth, I can't help but feel the desire to shove my fist in it.
I down the rest of the bottle, hoping that a slight buzz might help me stay calm. So far it wasn't doing jack, but then I'm not a complete lightweight. I go back to fridge and grab a hold of another bottle.
"Sure you don't want a beer Elliot?" I ask. "We have a very fine vintage of tap water if you'd prefer?"

[Lancaster]

The plan worked far better than Elliot had anticipated. He arched a brow, ready to try to spin his words in a way that he didn’t choke, or gag upon a possible lie. To weave a wondrous tale that was truth, but waylaid to make Skylar’s story sound absolutely plausible. He was ready, but he didn’t have to do a damned thing. He laughed, and smiled at Skylar, pushing his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have to confirm or deny what Skylar had said. He could just hope that Dillon ran with the change of topic. Elliot would do his best to keep the topic changed, too.

“You know what, Sky? I will have that beer. Thank you,” he said. He then very quickly turned his attention back to Dillon. Skylar had mentioned something about him before. Elliot narrowed his eyes and very quickly plucked the memory from his head. It was the night that Skylar had been sired – a night he wasn’t likely to forget any time soon.

“So Dillon. You two are in a band? I haven’t had a chance to hear Skylar play properly yet. What kind of style do you have?” he asked. Play the part, he thought. Make it sound as if he was in the business – confident, striding into the conversation with ease. Play with the guy’s ego and make him forget everything else that had been mentioned. Skylar had a better way with words, it would seem, than she knew. Maybe, Dillon might have been more curious. He might have been prone to argument. But her lie had pacified him; at least he seemed to have no qualms about going back to bed with her.

Roxette, through all this, had fallen silent, her arms crossed over her chest sullenly. She was staring pointedly At Elliot. At this distance, now closer to Dillon, Elliot was better able to pick up the vibes in the air. And there was no doubt about it. The guy was ******* infatuated with Skylar. Elliot wanted to laugh, but he didn’t.

”Not a chance there, Roxette,” he told his thrall telepathically. Roxette merely rolled her eyes, assuming the same anarchistic laze and boredom as before. She wasn’t into fighting for something that was too hard to get. She wasn’t a lioness who worked for her meals. She was a housecat who liked to hunt for fun, but gave up when the going got too hard. Next, he glanced sidelong at Skylar.

”You got it. Humans will be more susceptible to your persuasion, now. Is that the end of it? Will he accept that?” he asks her telepathically, though he is completely aware that she cannot answer his questions with anything other than a nod or a shake of her head.

[Skylar]

I flash Elliot a grin when he relents and decides to take a beer. The evening was already off to a good start and while I'm not entirely sure that Dillon's as cool with the biting thing as he seems, I decide not to worry about it. I grab out two beers, pop the tops and hand one to Elliot.
"Cheers," I say clinking the bottom of my bottle with his. I probably should have offered him a glass but he's a grown man, I'm sure he doesn't mind drinking from the bottle.
As I hear the question he asks Dillon, I can't help but grown. Thankfully, it's nothing more than a small rumble in my throat. What we are and what play is still up for debate because Dillon seems to veto every idea I ever have. I've always been rather good at charming people but for some reason my particular brand of charisma doesn't seem to work on him. I think it's because he's a stubborn arse.
"Well," Dillon begins and I catch myself staring at him, waiting to see what lie he'll spin. "We're still in that honeymoon period. We've tried out a number of different sounds but we've not settled into anything yet. Have we Sky?"
I nod by way of affirmation and take a swig of my beer. Sure. He's playing nice now, but the moment these guys leave I know we're going to have to discuss everything all over again. I want to go more alternative, while Dillon wants to go more mainstream. I can't really blame him, he wants to make an actual career out of this. But that still feels like selling out to me and Dillon's good enough to make it no matter what he plays. At least I think he is. That's why I want to make it more about the music.
When the voice enters my mind, I almost drop my bottle. I turn and stare at Elliot, clutching my head with my free hand. "What the **** was that?" I mouth at him.
"You all right Sky?" Dillon asks when he notices something's up.
"Yeah. I'm good," I reply and flash him a smile. "Guess I drank that last beer a little too quick," I lie.
I refocus on Elliot and just shrug my shoulders. I can't say that's the end of it, but at least Dillon seems to have calmed down. I hope he'll be so distracted by the music talk, he'll have forgotten the biting incident by the time our guests leave. Failing that, there was plan B and hopefully I'd be drunk enough to make a more authentic effort on that front, as my earlier performance was anything but inspiring.
Roxy looks pissed off. Or bored. I'm not really sure which. I give her a smile, but I'm not banking on that improving her mood. If it's possible, she looks more attractive in what ever mood she's in. Slightly more vulnerable maybe. She's just Dillon's type, I think to myself. Breathing is a start. Though he doesn't seem to have noticed I'm not anymore. I mean I make an effort to pretend, as right now it's not really an effort. It's still natural. My body's done it for twenty-eight years without thinking. However I have noticed that if I get worked up, I do sometimes get distracted and forget to draw an unnecessary breath. I contemplate that as I take another swig of beer.

[Lancaster]

Elliot indeed did not need the glass, nor did he care to ask for one. Nor did he notice that he was missing one. The only time he ever drank beer out of a glass was when it came from the tap, at which point he would drink it out of a glass, a cold glass that he’d kept in the fridge just for that specific beer. It was always best when it was ice cold. It was what he’d grown up with. It reminded him of home, in all that hot humidity – an ice cold beer at the end of a long day was always a just reward.

And now, it seemed it was time for a reward. Not a massive reward that would require getting absolutely shitfaced, but a small one. Just one beer. One beer could not hurt. Roxette reached for hers and nearly sculled the bottle in one fell swoop, the muscles in her throat undulating as the liquid is hastily consumed. Elliot knew that although Roxette could have a reasonable head on her shoulders when she wanted to, underneath it all she was still a bit of a party animal. And why not? She now had the means to enjoy herself thoroughly without too much recourse. She had the money. She had that nifty thing that magically took her back to a place of security before she passed out for the night. Or day, depending on how late she got in. There was no need for cars or for sticking with a designated driver. The world was different, now.

Right now, Roxette isn’t strictly required anymore. Not really, though she did add to the atmosphere. Though she wouldn’t be much of a distraction for Dillon, Elliot chose not to let her go just yet, even though he knew this particular scene wasn’t one that she was interested in. One night of boredom – even just a few hours of it – wouldn’t hurt her.

Elliot winked at Skylar, a barely discernible thing; he’d keep her in suspense as regards to the particular power he had used to speak into her head. It had slipped his mind that she might not have been victim to telepathic communication just yet, and he may not have remembered to tell her about it. There were so many different powers on the spectrum, there were bound to be a few things that he would have let slip by. He would explain later. For now, he focused on the conversation at hand.

He caught the look between Dillon and Sky – as if the two of them were at odds concerning their musical style.

“So what are the choices?” he asked. He was interested to hear both sides of the story, and weigh in where he could. Because slowly, this conversation wasn’t really just a means to distract Dillon, but actually one that Elliot himself was genuinely interested in. Especially given his recent thoughts about where next he could apply his brand of knowledge and power.

[Skylar]

"Well..."
The moment Dillon began to reply to Elliot's question I had to cut him off. It wasn't that I thought he was going to say something wrong, so much as I needed to present the issue as I saw it. Dillon only saw fame and dollars as a plus point. To me. Even before my turning, those things hadn't really interested me. Okay. Fame, maybe a little. But I had no plans to be super famous. I just wanted to have fun.
"Basically..."
I shoot Dillon a look that tells him if he doesn't stop talking I'm going hurt him, and not in any of the ways he likes.
"He wants to go mainstream and I want to go alternative. He wants money and whores. I don't care if we're dirt poor, so long as we're having fun. He wants to be worshiped by the world. I want a small loyal fan base that understands our sound. He wants to play crap with no meaning. I want us to be all about the music. He wants sell out. I want us to maintain our identities. That about covers it. Right Dillon."
I turn and look at him and am not at all surprised to find him glaring at me. So I may have painted him in a bad light but it was all pretty much true. About the only thing we did agree on, was that we could agree with one another. We had totally different directions in mind and neither of us were willing to compromise.
iIswill the beer in my bottle as I make small circular motions with it. I’m holding it down at my side. My eyes are daring Dillon to disagree.
"Way'da go Sky. Make me sound like a complete douche."
"Well if the cap fits," I retort.
"She's making me out to sound worse than I am. there's nothing wrong with a bit of ambition is there?"
Dillon looks to Elliot for support, hoping the guy is going to back him up and I scoff. Elliot's a vampire. Like me. Surely he's going to back my side of things; I mean what kind of vampire can keep their secret in this day and age if they're living under a microscope.
I roll my eyes, look to Elliot and wait to see which way he'll jump. Suddenly my beer seems like the most interesting thing in the world as I catch myself eyeing the bottle instead. I raise it to my lips and neck about half the contents. I sigh contentedly when I'm done and awkwardly cross my arms over my chest.
I'm not sure what I'd of done if I couldn't drink anymore. In my business that would have been incredibly suspicious. Not eating probably wouldn't have been an issue. They'd all assume I had some kind of eating disorder or something, which I guess I kind of do. I start thinking about blood. About the smell of it. the taste. I groan as my eyelids flutter and then I hear it. That sound. The sound of the human heart beating. Two hearts beating in fact. I lick my lips and focus on my teeth marks on Dillon's neck. Oh god how I hunger for that man's blood.

[Lancaster]

There was no questioning where Elliot’s preferences would fall.

It had nothing to do with being a vampire, or being Skylar’s sire. It had nothing to do with personal bias, and whose side he wanted to stand on due to lasting friendship. Though, as he glanced between Dillon and Skylar, he had to try to be diplomatic. The last thing he wanted was for Dillon to doubt him; to be angry with Skylar, and again question her weird proclivities. Though the current conversation was working in their favour. Perhaps, to get Dillon heated up about something like this would make him forget about everything else. Elliot shrugged his shoulders.

“You don’t have to be either one or the other,” he explained. “There are plenty of singers and bands out there who make a lot of money while also making quality music – for the sake of the music rather than for the money. There’s such a thing as the music being so good that it even exceeds the band’s expectations,” he said. He was thinking, particularly, of an Australian guy that he followed. He brought it up, now – the song was so massive, he doubted that the other two hadn’t heard it.

“Take Gotye’s Somebody that I Used to Know. He never intended for that song to be a massive hit. And he didn’t like the fame that came with it. He was derisive of the popularity that came with it. He retreated – now he kicks around with a band called The Basics, and they don’t have such a large following,” he explained.

And even while he talked, he was aware of the atmosphere; of the hunger that Skylar felt. Of Dillon’s irritation, and Roxette’s boredom. There were a few things that he could solve. He glanced at Roxette, and, telepathically, asked her a favour. Roxette rolled her eyes and waited for an opening.

Elliot licked his lips and arched a brow.

“Basically, I’m with Skylar on this one. You don’t play music for money, you play for the love of the music. And if you love it as much as you should, then that’ll show in the music. That’s what the fans will be drawn to. And you’ll get yourself a loyal following rather than a fickle one,” he said. “The bands that last are the ones that create something that will last. Something that will still be appreciated in ten years’ time, rather than just right now,” he said. When he finished, he took a deep swig of his beer, and Roxette perked up, her gaze glued to Skylar as she spoke.

“Ducky. I need to go to the bathroom. Come and show me where it is?” she asked. Her tone was deadpan. She didn’t just want to be told where to go. She wanted to be shown.

[Skylar]

Elliot made a lot of sense but I really wasn't paying that much attention. Dillon could feel me looking at him and turned to smile at me, but again, I was lost in my own little world. Usually I'd of looked away. I don't want him getting the wrong opinion. Although it's highly likely he has that already.
It's Roxy that breaks through my concentration, I arch a brow at her and look her over. The woman went nosing around the moment she stepped across the threshold, so I knew she knew all too well where the bathroom was. I couldn't figure out why she suddenly wanted to be shown to it but I shrug my shoulders, push off from the counter and walk in her direction.
As I move across the room my mind tries to connect the dots. Her sudden need to pee or powder her nose. It seemed odd. I now know Elliot can talk directly into people's minds, so I'm soon wondering if she got some kind of order from him. I figure he wants to get Dillon alone for some reason. Maybe he wants to play the concerned father role. It's possible. Though perhaps a little soon.
I lead the attractive woman to her destination and then stand by the door.
"Do I need to come in with ya or do you think ya can do it solo from here?"
It's after the words leave my lips that I realise what the setup is. Elliot's a bloody thief. He stole my thoughts or whatever. She's led me away from the group to feed from her.
I'm not all that impressed. Despite the fact that it might be fun to ruin her perfection and leave her with a set of jagged teeth marks, I decide to fess up.
"I don't really know how to say this? So I'm just gonna come right out with it."
I say as I step into the bathroom with her and close the door.
"I'm no good at the biting thing. I don't know if it's because I'm new or whatever and I haven't exactly had a chance to ask Elliot about it yet but well... yeah... I don't seem to grow fangs. So as tempting as the offer is to take a bite out of ya, I'm not going to. It would just be rude."
It's then that the woman does something truly unexpected. She pulls a small blade from somewhere in her boot and cuts herself with it. I just watch with wide eyes for a moment and consider the fact that she'll scar from that. i don't much like the idea of me being the reason she's sporting a permanent injury but it's too late for me to do anything about it now, just like it was too late for me to do anything about the wound on Dillon's neck. I just had to hope they'd both heal up good.
I grab her wrist and raise it to my lips without further thought. I latch onto her skin, my lips forming a tight seal before I begin to drink from her vein. I'd worry about hurting her, about taking too much but I'm lost in the taste of her. She tastes so much better than Dillon did, though I have no idea what the difference between them is. Diet perhaps. I go with diet as my eyes flicker shut and practically gorge myself on as much blood as I can for the next minute or so.
When I realise what I'm doing I suddenly pull back from her. My hands that had previously clutched her wrist to my lips go limp at my sides. I look her over as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. A small amount of blood is transferred in the process and I go to wash my hands.
"Give me a sec and I'll get you a band aid or something," I tell her as I make sure my mouth and hands are clean.
I dry my hands on a nearby towel and then start rooting through the medicine cupboard. Seeing as we're at a guy’s house, the chances of me finding anything useful in there are practically slim to none.

[Lancaster]

Roxette was indeed very skilled at feeding others. It was the main thing that Elliot asked of her – each new person that he turned, whether accidentally or on purpose, they all needed to learn how to feed. Most of the time, he called on Roxette. Of course, he cared for Roxette as if she were one of his own, so he kept a very watchful eye. Fledglings were prone sometimes to losing control, to not knowing their own strength or their own thirst. Elliot’s wariness infected Roxette. So, even though she may have had no reason to distrust Skylar (she didn’t believe Elliot would have sent her into the bathroom alone with the other vampire if he thought something bad would happen), she still gripped tight to the handle of her switch blade. The muscles in her arm were tense; if Skylar went too far, she’d lift that blade and slam it down right between the other girl’s shoulder blades.

At first it didn’t seem as if Skylar were going to stop, and Roxette raised her blade a little higher, preparing. She felt that usual sensation of losing blood a little too fast; the dizziness that accompanied it. She fought the urge to steady herself, but kept her eyes wide and alert. The grip on the handle loosened as finally her wrist was released.

Skylar had not gone unheard. Roxette glanced toward the door, imagined the hallway and the room beyond. Where she knew Elliot to be; she couldn’t exactly advise Skylar on her fangless predicament, though it was the first time that Roxette had come across such a thing. She cleared her throat as the other woman started searching for a bandaid. Roxette was going to protest; normally the wounds healed up, and she herself was… well, normally she was more disoriented than this. She had thought she’d have to go out and tell Dillon she’d taken some drugs or something. It’s what vampires usually did to her, whether they wanted to or not. Sure, she was dizzy. But less so than normal. And this time, the wound wasn’t healing. She would need that bandaid, though the jacket she wore would cover the wound, she’d prefer not to bleed all over it.

“You should ah… you really should tell Elliot about that,” she said. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know whether it was even a big deal. She had no idea whether Elliot would be able to do anything about it, but she thought that it was probably something that he should know. She shrugged.

Back out in the lounge room, Elliot had plunged into a heated discussion with Dillon; about the merits of good music, about how money was a deplorable thing to strive for. Elliot himself had a lot of money, these days, but he was prone to giving it away rather than using it on anything for himself. He had no idea what to do with it. At least, in the long run, he was convincing Dillon that he was a little eclectically passionate about music. That reading some bunk theory that drinking blood could improve the vocal cords was definitely something that he would pass on to a young and impressionable protégé. And the best part was, Elliot didn’t even have to pretend.

[Skylar]

As expected the picking are slim. What I do find though is a tubular bandage. The kind someone might wear if they sprained their wrist. It's not ideal but it'd do for now. I grab that out and then reach for some toilet paper. I fold that up neatly and move back to Roxy's side.
"Here."
I take her hand and press the toilet paper onto the area. The blood helps to bind it in place as I work the bandage over her hand and over the toilet paper before rolling it out to keep the paper in place. As I'm doing this I can’t help but think it would have been smarter to have started with bandage first but it's a little late for that now.
"I know it's not ideal but it should do for now. I'd say it might be worth going to the ER to have it looked at but I don't think it's that bad and then you'd have to explain what happened. I' hate to think you'd end up in a psych ward overnight cos I got hungry."
I try to give her a reassuring smile and then pull my phone out of my jeans pocket. Roxy had a point. I had to tell Elliot I had yet another feeding issue but I wasn't sure how to get him alone. So I quickly fire of a text that reads; Need to talk alone. Issues with my teeth. It's a little cryptic but it would at least let him know that there's more to discuss.
"I'll talk to him when I get a chance. 'Kay?"
I walk to the door and open it.
"Oh and Roxy... Thanks. You don't taste as good as Dillon but you're not bad."
I'm teasing her and I think the tone in my voice shows it. There's something about blood in general that makes me go all weak at the knees. Add in the fact Roxy could be the most beautiful guy I'd ever met, if she was in fact a dude and I could definitely be in trouble if I met her n a night out.
I walk back into the living room and just laugh. There's not really a reason for it, though it could be nerves. I wasn't really thinking about what Elliot and Dillon would be doing while they were left alone. Talking and getting on it seemed, at least the atmosphere in the room seemed to suggest as much.
"Should my ears be burning?"
It's a vain thing to ask and I know it, but it's not like us women didn't like to talk about our men when they were out of the room. Granted I didn't really belong to either of them. At least not romantically. I'm still figuring out the exact nature of my relationship with Elliot. He's a lovely guy but still not rally my type. I go and seat myself next to Dillon. I don't recall putting my beer down but as my eyes scan the room I spot it on the kitchen counter. Trouble is, once I sit down, I can't be bothered to get back up again.

[Lancaster]

Elliot’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished to grab it. He didn’t actually have to use the phone; he could connect to these kinds of things with his head, if he really wanted to. But he didn’t do that very often. It would be useful if he were ever in a very serious scrap, where he couldn’t move or talk or whatever, but when walking around like a living, breathing, talking being, he preferred to do things the normal way. Like those people who liked to use telepathy like it were just normal speech; those who liked to use it instead of text messaging. God, he hated that. He used it every now and again. It could be useful, when trying to be covert. But not all of the time.

He did not expect the text message to be from Skylar, because Skylar was just in the other room. He frowned down at the phone and almost missed the verbal quip fired his way by Dillon – something about old lady and dog house. He must have caught the frown and assumed Elliot was in trouble, in some way.

No, Elliot was just confused by the text message. Did she mean right now? Was he supposed to get up and go and join her and Roxette in the bathroom? Elliot glanced up at Dillon and muttered a “Huh?” Buying himself some time, though Dillon would probably only be prompted to repeat the question and Elliot would have to be honest. At least, he hoped Dillon didn’t ask who the message was from.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Dillon did repeat the question or any variation of it. The two girls wandered back out and into the room, and Elliot was forced to put two and two together. Issues with teeth coupled with the fact that Roxette wasn’t as dazed as usual. The thrall walked behind Dillon and held her bandaged wrist up in the air; she bared her teeth in an almost amusing caricature of what she thought a vampire should look like. She rolled her eyes, and found her way over to a couch that Dillon was not seated upon. She didn’t sit down though. She just leaned.

“Lan, can we go yet?” she asked. Elliot knew that she would be tired. And Elliot was wary of what it was that Skylar wanted to talk to him about. He couldn’t concoct some story to get Skylar to come with them. He was tempted to speak to her telepathically again, but given her previous reaction he didn’t think that’d be such a great idea.

“We weren’t actually talking about you at all,” he said with a lopsided grin in Skylar’s direction. He’d only given Roxette a pointed stare in response to her question. He focused on his phone for two seconds, to shoot a reply back to Skylar, even though she was sitting right in front of him.

Sure we can. Is it urgent?