Katya had to snicker at this reaction to an oft-used phrase. Crass or not, it said many things all at once and she adored it. But even with that mischievous glint in his eye telling her he knew she was kidding, she simply shook her head and reiterated. "Figure of speech. And besides, darling Jesse, those services aren't needed. I did tell you I've spent most of the last couple months in. You're the one with the dirty mind" - and she even had to smirk at this, because she was sure her own was far, far dirtier - "so figure it out." She winked, then gave a slight stretch before she checked that her weapons had stayed in place on their walk. It was mostly out of habit, and idly done.
"But. Either way, and in all seriousness, congratulations." She was sincere in that; it was something she couldn't ever see herself doing, but she could grasp well enough that others wanted to bind, and the reasons why. In Yekaterina's mind, though, binding was a contract, meant for deeply-held alliances. A rarity to want to make it permanent, which is why it came at such a heavy price. In truth, there was only one she could ever see herself bound to for eternity, even if he'd made his home in the Fade and remained there. And if one ignored that she was already bound to him in another permanent way. Try as she might in her most urgent rages, Katya had never located hide nor hair of any kind of ritual that might sever the tie between Sire and Childe and she wasn't willing to branch off to form her own bloodline just yet. Not when she was rational once more, while there was still a possibility, however scant, that Emanuel might one night return to her.
But she cleared those thoughts away for the time being, and offered a simple smile instead. She could see he was happy, and that was plenty good enough. "Also... Rule number one: appearances are everything. Tables are good enough for drinks alone." She flashed him a Cheshire grin, only half serious. "Set a date yet?"
Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
-
Yekaterina Ostrovsky
- Registered User
- Posts: 159
- Joined: 09 Jul 2012, 01:50
- Contact:
-
Ishaq (DELETED 4744)
- Posts: 446
- Joined: 10 Sep 2013, 23:07
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Tonight was a good night to be a vampire. Well, every night was a good night, at least some believed that. At times, he didn't share the same sentiments. He missed his old life at times. And he definitely missed his old friends. There wasn't much of point to look back at what he felt he had lost but he needed to focus on what he had gained in the process. Most nights, he couldn't see the positives of his lifetime changes. Only the nights where he was high beyond the clouds, he could feel himself loosening up on his desires to go back to the past. He knew Jesse wanted him to fully take hold of his 'destiny' and fully immerse himself into the vampire lifestyle. But what did that mean? What was his destiny? What did it look like to be immersed, fully immersed?
Tonight was not the night for deep thoughts and philosophical debates. Tonight was a good night to take advantage of the fact he was a vampire.
Ishaq hadn't stepped out into the night looking for a fight. On the contrary, he stepped out of Larch Court looking to have a good time. He couldn't remember the last time he truly had a good time. Nevermind the fact he was already high; he just wanted to go out and experience the night. He wanted to be overwhelmed by the lights and the sounds. To shiver when he brushed up against a person or two because his body felt extra sensitive. He just wanted to go out and feel. He decided to go to a bar. No, it had been a night club. Yes, he had wanted to dance. And what place would be better than a night club? It had alcohol. It had lights, lots of lights. It had people, lots of people. Beautiful women and men, all full of insecurities, all looking to find someone to go home with them.
He wasn't above the idea of going home with someone for the night, knowing he needed to be back at Larch Court before the sun came up. That was the plan. The plan didn't involve a violent tussle with a very insecure man and his group of just as insecure friends. It wasn't Ishaq's fault that the man's woman liked his dance moves more than him. He was a natural. No, it was mostly because his mother helped his find his rhythm as a child. Yes, that was it. But she liked how he moved and it just so happened, Ishaq liked how she moved too. How was he suppose to know she was taken?
Now, he was running down the street, managing to get a couple blocks away from the night club. His knuckles were coated with dry blood as well as the front of his shirt. And his face didn't look any better. By then, the broken nose had healed itself but the evidence of its abuse still coated his face. Slowing down, his steps turned from running to quicken steps. He was constantly looking behind him. The cops had been called. As well as the ambulance. Ishaq hoped he hadn't killed the guy...or his friends. It hadn't been his intention. He was defending himself. Unfairly though. He knew he was stronger than all of them. He proved it. Damn, did he prove it.
Ishaq was looking over his shoulder once more when he was rounding the corner, hearing a pair of voices. Of course, he looked up, not wanting to run into the couple.
"....Jes?" He blinked, glancing between his maker and the woman he was with. He had no clue who the woman was. He only knew two things: she wasn't Grey and she was ******* hot.
Tonight was not the night for deep thoughts and philosophical debates. Tonight was a good night to take advantage of the fact he was a vampire.
Ishaq hadn't stepped out into the night looking for a fight. On the contrary, he stepped out of Larch Court looking to have a good time. He couldn't remember the last time he truly had a good time. Nevermind the fact he was already high; he just wanted to go out and experience the night. He wanted to be overwhelmed by the lights and the sounds. To shiver when he brushed up against a person or two because his body felt extra sensitive. He just wanted to go out and feel. He decided to go to a bar. No, it had been a night club. Yes, he had wanted to dance. And what place would be better than a night club? It had alcohol. It had lights, lots of lights. It had people, lots of people. Beautiful women and men, all full of insecurities, all looking to find someone to go home with them.
He wasn't above the idea of going home with someone for the night, knowing he needed to be back at Larch Court before the sun came up. That was the plan. The plan didn't involve a violent tussle with a very insecure man and his group of just as insecure friends. It wasn't Ishaq's fault that the man's woman liked his dance moves more than him. He was a natural. No, it was mostly because his mother helped his find his rhythm as a child. Yes, that was it. But she liked how he moved and it just so happened, Ishaq liked how she moved too. How was he suppose to know she was taken?
Now, he was running down the street, managing to get a couple blocks away from the night club. His knuckles were coated with dry blood as well as the front of his shirt. And his face didn't look any better. By then, the broken nose had healed itself but the evidence of its abuse still coated his face. Slowing down, his steps turned from running to quicken steps. He was constantly looking behind him. The cops had been called. As well as the ambulance. Ishaq hoped he hadn't killed the guy...or his friends. It hadn't been his intention. He was defending himself. Unfairly though. He knew he was stronger than all of them. He proved it. Damn, did he prove it.
Ishaq was looking over his shoulder once more when he was rounding the corner, hearing a pair of voices. Of course, he looked up, not wanting to run into the couple.
"....Jes?" He blinked, glancing between his maker and the woman he was with. He had no clue who the woman was. He only knew two things: she wasn't Grey and she was ******* hot.
"You're a wolf, boy, get out of this town."
-
Jesse Fforde
- Registered User
- Posts: 3487
- Joined: 30 Jun 2012, 09:32
- CrowNet Handle: Fox
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
The bright-blues of Jesse’s eyes roll. This woman takes him far too literally, but he supposes that’s no surprise. Everyone takes him far too literally, and she probably assumes he’s done the same thing. Yes, he’d answered her statement as if she were speaking literally, as if she had really demanded that he **** her silly. But that was part of the joke. Apparently, Yekaterina had not cottoned on to the fact that Jesse’s response was only an egotistical fall back. That he was kidding. That he hadn’t actually taken her seriously.
There’s no point in explaining or defending because, upon that path the conversation would grow dull and stagnant, and it would die. It’s the kind of tittering that Jesse abhors. Most of the time, if Jesse converses, it’s with short and sharp rebuttals accompanied by a grin, because he’s never really serious. Because to be serious is to reveal something of oneself to others. To remain aloof and always joking, others are left confused and at a loss. And that’s how he prefers it.
And where Yekaterina is showing interest in Jesse’s personal love life, he’s not too sure he’s interested in hers. At least, it’s of interest to know that she’s been staying in and he assumes it’s been with one single person rather than a volley of them, a different man every night, like a conveyor belt of serviceable meat. Or, maybe there is an interest, but Jesse’s not one to ask. He likes to pick up the clues, dropped like bread crumbs.
He had opened his mouth to respond – to tell Yekaterina that he wasn’t sure he even wanted drinks, so much. Not a place where there’d be tables and bright lights and a band playing soft jazz and people dressed up in suits and cocktail dresses. That he’d prefer something private first and then maybe a party on a rooftop somewhere, with only the drinks that other people might want to bring with them. None of this spills from Jesse’s lips, nor his negation of having set a date. The conversation is interrupted by his name, half uttered, and the strong scent of blood and alcohol.
Jesse turns. He arches a brow at the sight of Ishaq, with blood dried over his lips and chin; probably soaked into his clothing, too. Jesse snorts and slaps a hand against Ishaq’s shoulder.
“The one and only,” he answers, before glancing back over to Yekaterina.
“Yekaterina, Ishaq. Ishaq, Yekaterina,” he says. Yes, they are in public, and Jesse is mature enough to introduce Ishaq as Ishaq, rather than as Snowflake or Ishy.
“Let me guess, man – you’re gonna tell me I should see the other guy?” Jesse asks. It’s his way of exhibiting his curiosity at what the **** Ishaq had been up to.
There’s no point in explaining or defending because, upon that path the conversation would grow dull and stagnant, and it would die. It’s the kind of tittering that Jesse abhors. Most of the time, if Jesse converses, it’s with short and sharp rebuttals accompanied by a grin, because he’s never really serious. Because to be serious is to reveal something of oneself to others. To remain aloof and always joking, others are left confused and at a loss. And that’s how he prefers it.
And where Yekaterina is showing interest in Jesse’s personal love life, he’s not too sure he’s interested in hers. At least, it’s of interest to know that she’s been staying in and he assumes it’s been with one single person rather than a volley of them, a different man every night, like a conveyor belt of serviceable meat. Or, maybe there is an interest, but Jesse’s not one to ask. He likes to pick up the clues, dropped like bread crumbs.
He had opened his mouth to respond – to tell Yekaterina that he wasn’t sure he even wanted drinks, so much. Not a place where there’d be tables and bright lights and a band playing soft jazz and people dressed up in suits and cocktail dresses. That he’d prefer something private first and then maybe a party on a rooftop somewhere, with only the drinks that other people might want to bring with them. None of this spills from Jesse’s lips, nor his negation of having set a date. The conversation is interrupted by his name, half uttered, and the strong scent of blood and alcohol.
Jesse turns. He arches a brow at the sight of Ishaq, with blood dried over his lips and chin; probably soaked into his clothing, too. Jesse snorts and slaps a hand against Ishaq’s shoulder.
“The one and only,” he answers, before glancing back over to Yekaterina.
“Yekaterina, Ishaq. Ishaq, Yekaterina,” he says. Yes, they are in public, and Jesse is mature enough to introduce Ishaq as Ishaq, rather than as Snowflake or Ishy.
“Let me guess, man – you’re gonna tell me I should see the other guy?” Jesse asks. It’s his way of exhibiting his curiosity at what the **** Ishaq had been up to.
FIRE and BLOOD
-
Yekaterina Ostrovsky
- Registered User
- Posts: 159
- Joined: 09 Jul 2012, 01:50
- Contact:
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
The blonde simply watched Jesse roll his eyes with a smirk twisting her lips once more. Ah, communication. It never was her strongest suit, unless it was via a sharp knife or the sights of her favorite firearm. And truly, while Katya wasn't much known for having any sort of filter whatsoever, she didn't expect he'd ask for details of her latest exploits - in fact, it was probably better if he didn't, for that very reason. But she let that go - if he asked, he asked - though she was ready to hear what, if anything, he had planned for his binding. After all, who didn't love a wedding? This sarcastic thought alone almost had her laughing, but she swallowed it back - barely - before he inevitably asked just what she found so funny.
But his next words, whatever they might be, never came as, instead, a bloodied guy appeared, silencing Jesse and causing her to raise a brow as she glanced from one to the other. She could catch the soft, hypnotic scents of human and vampire blood mingling together like a fine bouquet, along with the undercurrent of... something else. Something familiar and nose-wrinkle-worthy, but she stayed still and silent without wondering aloud just what it was. Alcohol was one thing, and she did dearly miss her evening glass of whiskey. But whatever the other substance was... that was something altogether different. She had no way of knowing, of course, just what it was he'd imbibed, nor whether such things could affect a vampire, but... she could suppose it was an admirable effort to try to get oneself wasted in this life - if you walked the right path, anyway. It was apparent, though, that Jesse knew the newcomer, as was evident in his reaction.
Mmm. Now this was interesting.
As she was introduced in turn, it was then that Katya turned her full attention upon the other male, giving him a more appraising once-over with a slightly raised brow as her aqua gaze raked over the entire package. Definitely pleasant to look upon - if anything, the blood adorning his flesh and clothing made him even more appealing. One wouldn't know it to look at the pristine blonde, but Katya was definitely more of the down and dirty type - when she was in the thick of things, anyway. She held out a cool, slender hand to shake, unsure of whether or not the male would take her up on that minor contact.
"Ishaq, hmm? Nice to meet you. I take it you're one of... his?"
But his next words, whatever they might be, never came as, instead, a bloodied guy appeared, silencing Jesse and causing her to raise a brow as she glanced from one to the other. She could catch the soft, hypnotic scents of human and vampire blood mingling together like a fine bouquet, along with the undercurrent of... something else. Something familiar and nose-wrinkle-worthy, but she stayed still and silent without wondering aloud just what it was. Alcohol was one thing, and she did dearly miss her evening glass of whiskey. But whatever the other substance was... that was something altogether different. She had no way of knowing, of course, just what it was he'd imbibed, nor whether such things could affect a vampire, but... she could suppose it was an admirable effort to try to get oneself wasted in this life - if you walked the right path, anyway. It was apparent, though, that Jesse knew the newcomer, as was evident in his reaction.
Mmm. Now this was interesting.
As she was introduced in turn, it was then that Katya turned her full attention upon the other male, giving him a more appraising once-over with a slightly raised brow as her aqua gaze raked over the entire package. Definitely pleasant to look upon - if anything, the blood adorning his flesh and clothing made him even more appealing. One wouldn't know it to look at the pristine blonde, but Katya was definitely more of the down and dirty type - when she was in the thick of things, anyway. She held out a cool, slender hand to shake, unsure of whether or not the male would take her up on that minor contact.
"Ishaq, hmm? Nice to meet you. I take it you're one of... his?"
-
Ishaq (DELETED 4744)
- Posts: 446
- Joined: 10 Sep 2013, 23:07
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Yekaterina. In all of his time in Harper Rock- which was his whole life- he never heard a name like that before. Foreign. Very foreign. It made him wonder how she ended up in this place. Though, it was probably the same question most had when his father showed up in Harper Rock some years ago. Yekaterina. His eyes looked her over and he could only manage a goofy grin on his face. It matched; a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. How the **** did Jesse end up around all these beautiful women all the time? He didn't care; he was just happy that he would get to reap the benefits of his sire's associations with outright eye candies. Thank Allah he was introducing them. Ishaq reached out to take her hand to give it a shake because kissing it would be why to douchey on his end. And a bit out of the norm as well.
"Nice to meet you too. And yeah," he offhandedly pointed to Jesse, " I'm one of his." Oddly enough, he was actually pretty proud of that fact. Sure, it's still taking getting used to being a vampire. And some times, Jesse annoyed the **** out of him to the point the young vampire thought he could probably fucked this whole place up in a heartbeat. But he was still pretty proud to be one of four boys Jesse had. Especially he was the second one in the bunch. Not that he had really any leg to stand out. He had been MIA for almost a year and most of the time he was fluctuating between the extremes of his emotion spectrum. Nah, **** that. He wasn't going to rain on his own parade right now. Not now when he could enjoy the presence of two extremely good looking people. This night wasn't turning out to be too bad after all.
"I wasn't going to say **** about that, " Ishaq finally answered Jes in reference to his attire. He knew the man was curious, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Hell, he bet both of them was quite curious. It's not every night you see someone covered in blood. Since they were both vampires, they could probably differentiate whose blood belong to who on his body and skin. "But you really don't want to see them. It was a shitty misunderstanding with an unfortunate outcome."
He clicked his tongue inside his mouth, glancing over his shoulder once more. "So where are you guys heading? I hope not that way. You really don't want to go that way, " he offered, pointing to the left of him, the right of them.
"How about this way? There's plenty of bars along this street. We can hang out. Chit chat," Ishaq suggested, throwing a wink at Yekaterina, "...get to know each other. Even though, you two seem to know each other just fine." He really just wanted to get off the street just in case the cops came patrolling as far as this block. It wouldn't be surprising if they did. He just opened it wouldn't be a cop who recognized them and felt the need to call his parents to come get him from the station. Ugh, what a horrible thought that would be. Plus, he really just wanted to be some where he could clean himself up a bit. No return for his shirt, but at least his face, neck, and hands could be cleaned up.
"Nice to meet you too. And yeah," he offhandedly pointed to Jesse, " I'm one of his." Oddly enough, he was actually pretty proud of that fact. Sure, it's still taking getting used to being a vampire. And some times, Jesse annoyed the **** out of him to the point the young vampire thought he could probably fucked this whole place up in a heartbeat. But he was still pretty proud to be one of four boys Jesse had. Especially he was the second one in the bunch. Not that he had really any leg to stand out. He had been MIA for almost a year and most of the time he was fluctuating between the extremes of his emotion spectrum. Nah, **** that. He wasn't going to rain on his own parade right now. Not now when he could enjoy the presence of two extremely good looking people. This night wasn't turning out to be too bad after all.
"I wasn't going to say **** about that, " Ishaq finally answered Jes in reference to his attire. He knew the man was curious, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Hell, he bet both of them was quite curious. It's not every night you see someone covered in blood. Since they were both vampires, they could probably differentiate whose blood belong to who on his body and skin. "But you really don't want to see them. It was a shitty misunderstanding with an unfortunate outcome."
He clicked his tongue inside his mouth, glancing over his shoulder once more. "So where are you guys heading? I hope not that way. You really don't want to go that way, " he offered, pointing to the left of him, the right of them.
"How about this way? There's plenty of bars along this street. We can hang out. Chit chat," Ishaq suggested, throwing a wink at Yekaterina, "...get to know each other. Even though, you two seem to know each other just fine." He really just wanted to get off the street just in case the cops came patrolling as far as this block. It wouldn't be surprising if they did. He just opened it wouldn't be a cop who recognized them and felt the need to call his parents to come get him from the station. Ugh, what a horrible thought that would be. Plus, he really just wanted to be some where he could clean himself up a bit. No return for his shirt, but at least his face, neck, and hands could be cleaned up.
"You're a wolf, boy, get out of this town."
-
Jesse Fforde
- Registered User
- Posts: 3487
- Joined: 30 Jun 2012, 09:32
- CrowNet Handle: Fox
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Jesse glances down at his own attire. Having just come from the raid, he himself isn’t a polished gem. Though, he is wearing all black, and the majority of the blood stains aren’t quite as visible as Ishaq’s seem to be. Watching the other two become acquainted with each other, Jesse’s thoroughly tempted to take a step back. To continue watching them, because he’s finding it thoroughly amusing. It doesn’t take a mind-reader to figure out that they approve of each other. But just how much?
Far be it for Jesse to be any kind of matchmaker, though. He had thought that Abigail and Ishaq would hit it off. Though the two do seem close and affectionate with one another, he’s not sure whether it branches beyond just friendship. Jesse is by no means an Emma. He does not know the inner workings of other people’s minds, or how exactly they’ll react to those they’re attracted to. In this scenario, though, he’s still quite happy to remain largely silent. Maybe he’ll slip out unseen and leave them together. Not yet, though.
Ishaq assumes that Jesse and Yekaterina know each other just fine, and Jesse can’t help the sly grin and the arched brow. Just fine. Sure, if you want to call it that. He glances in the direction Ishaq indicates, and nods.
“Maybe somewhere like the Handle Bar. At least they serve… well, something that I can drink, there. And I don’t think our particular….blood-spattered-chic will cause any alarm there,” he says. But then, he recalls the join that Yekaterina owns. He shrugs his shoulders. “Unless you want to lead us back to your place,” he says to her. It’s rather obvious that Ishaq wants to avoid whatever chaos he’s caused. Jesse could be irked, but this isn’t the kind of scenario where he thinks he has to pull any rank. He knew going into it that Ishaq was a bit of a wild card. And this seemed like the ordinary kind of drunken revelry that any number of humans got themselves involved in. No break of the Masquerade, or at least he hoped. And so he remains amused. Aloof. Letting the other two decide exactly where they go to chit-chat, as Ishaq so neatly put it.
Far be it for Jesse to be any kind of matchmaker, though. He had thought that Abigail and Ishaq would hit it off. Though the two do seem close and affectionate with one another, he’s not sure whether it branches beyond just friendship. Jesse is by no means an Emma. He does not know the inner workings of other people’s minds, or how exactly they’ll react to those they’re attracted to. In this scenario, though, he’s still quite happy to remain largely silent. Maybe he’ll slip out unseen and leave them together. Not yet, though.
Ishaq assumes that Jesse and Yekaterina know each other just fine, and Jesse can’t help the sly grin and the arched brow. Just fine. Sure, if you want to call it that. He glances in the direction Ishaq indicates, and nods.
“Maybe somewhere like the Handle Bar. At least they serve… well, something that I can drink, there. And I don’t think our particular….blood-spattered-chic will cause any alarm there,” he says. But then, he recalls the join that Yekaterina owns. He shrugs his shoulders. “Unless you want to lead us back to your place,” he says to her. It’s rather obvious that Ishaq wants to avoid whatever chaos he’s caused. Jesse could be irked, but this isn’t the kind of scenario where he thinks he has to pull any rank. He knew going into it that Ishaq was a bit of a wild card. And this seemed like the ordinary kind of drunken revelry that any number of humans got themselves involved in. No break of the Masquerade, or at least he hoped. And so he remains amused. Aloof. Letting the other two decide exactly where they go to chit-chat, as Ishaq so neatly put it.
FIRE and BLOOD
-
Yekaterina Ostrovsky
- Registered User
- Posts: 159
- Joined: 09 Jul 2012, 01:50
- Contact:
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Oh, a charmer. Katya couldn't help but smirk at Ishaq, as slow and sly as his sire. Get to know each other, hm? Good ******* lord... She didn't really even know what to do with that, where to even begin. But even she could suppose that it would be a decent end to the evening full of spilled blood and guts - unwinding with drinks in hopefully good company - though she would adamantly insist upon company times three... for now. The blonde's gaze slid to Jesse, catching the bit of amusement there as well as the grin, only beginning to guess at what he found so funny. She narrowed her eyes and shot him a surreptitious look as if to say 'don't you dare leave now,' and glanced down at her own attire of supple leather. It had remained surprisingly mostly free of gore, but still. It wasn't exactly up to Kit Kat standards, ones she held high as a general rule for all of her staff. Herself included. She cleared her throat, slightly.
"I've never been to the Handle Bar, or heard of it, really. I'm down for it, I guess. But we could go to the Kit Kat, if you prefer. The bartenders know what to do if you order the Special. Though we'd be stuck in my office, mostly... We're not exactly dressed for the main club," she explained, "and we'd draw some attention in there, even with an occupied stage." Not that anyone would dare to question her, but she didn't need to add that bit.
She gave a shrug and flicked a bit of something from one bare arm before she gathered long blonde locks up and into a makeshift bun, eyeing both males and wondering just what this interesting little dynamic might bring. She couldn't know what Jesse was thinking, of course, but she did approve of the newcomer - on the superficial surface, anyway. The smirk melted into a smile as her gaze rested upon him once more. Time would tell, she supposed, as it did all things.
"I've never been to the Handle Bar, or heard of it, really. I'm down for it, I guess. But we could go to the Kit Kat, if you prefer. The bartenders know what to do if you order the Special. Though we'd be stuck in my office, mostly... We're not exactly dressed for the main club," she explained, "and we'd draw some attention in there, even with an occupied stage." Not that anyone would dare to question her, but she didn't need to add that bit.
She gave a shrug and flicked a bit of something from one bare arm before she gathered long blonde locks up and into a makeshift bun, eyeing both males and wondering just what this interesting little dynamic might bring. She couldn't know what Jesse was thinking, of course, but she did approve of the newcomer - on the superficial surface, anyway. The smirk melted into a smile as her gaze rested upon him once more. Time would tell, she supposed, as it did all things.
-
Ishaq (DELETED 4744)
- Posts: 446
- Joined: 10 Sep 2013, 23:07
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Ishaq clapped his hands together, "Then it's settled, Kit Kat then." He didn't really want to go to the Handle Bar. There wasn't anything wrong with the place per se. It was a nice scene. The atmosphere was pretty lax. Hell, Kleo worked there and it would be nice to see her. Breathe in her a little. It had been a while since he'd seen the woman anyway; she was pretty caught up in the bar. Just about everyone who worked there was pretty dedicated to the bar, Victor included. Plus Handle Bar was familiar territory to him and didn't want to go to a familiar place. He was aching for a bit of spice in his life; something new he could experience and enjoy. He'd already enjoyed the Handle bar and now, he wanted to enjoy something else too.
Plus, Kit Kat sounded different to him. Sure, the first thing that popped up in his head had been the image of Kit Kat, the candy bar. Perhaps the candy bar provided inspiration for the club. Maybe. Probably didn't though. His interest was definitely peaked as Yekaterina began to talk about the club. So it was a vampire friendly club. Apparently there was a stage there too. He began to wonder just what kind of club it truly was. "Not dressed for the main club? What kind of club do you own?" He arched his brow. God, his itching mind wanted to know. Mostly to know how to properly dress the next time he decided he may want to show up at the club, experience it.
"Is it a gentleman's club or concert venue?" Ishaq continued to question, pulling his windbreaker inward in order to properly zip it up to cover up his bloodied shirt. He stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels.
"I mean, like I said, we can just go there. I'm not high maintenance. I don't need to drink at a bar to have a good time or anything."
He just wanted them to make a decision. A quick decision; a decision that didn't involve him standing out in the open any longer than he needed to. He could feel himself grow quite anxious. He wasn't particularly worried about the Masquerade; people got into fist fights all the time outside of bars. He just didn't want to deal with police. He was a vampire now. The game had changed.
"Which direction is it?"
Plus, Kit Kat sounded different to him. Sure, the first thing that popped up in his head had been the image of Kit Kat, the candy bar. Perhaps the candy bar provided inspiration for the club. Maybe. Probably didn't though. His interest was definitely peaked as Yekaterina began to talk about the club. So it was a vampire friendly club. Apparently there was a stage there too. He began to wonder just what kind of club it truly was. "Not dressed for the main club? What kind of club do you own?" He arched his brow. God, his itching mind wanted to know. Mostly to know how to properly dress the next time he decided he may want to show up at the club, experience it.
"Is it a gentleman's club or concert venue?" Ishaq continued to question, pulling his windbreaker inward in order to properly zip it up to cover up his bloodied shirt. He stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels.
"I mean, like I said, we can just go there. I'm not high maintenance. I don't need to drink at a bar to have a good time or anything."
He just wanted them to make a decision. A quick decision; a decision that didn't involve him standing out in the open any longer than he needed to. He could feel himself grow quite anxious. He wasn't particularly worried about the Masquerade; people got into fist fights all the time outside of bars. He just didn't want to deal with police. He was a vampire now. The game had changed.
"Which direction is it?"
"You're a wolf, boy, get out of this town."
-
Jesse Fforde
- Registered User
- Posts: 3487
- Joined: 30 Jun 2012, 09:32
- CrowNet Handle: Fox
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Jesse’s somewhat glad that Ishaq decided for them. Kit Kat it was, then. There were a few things he’d heard about the Handle Bar recently that he wasn’t exactly happy with, and it only took Ishaq’s denial of the place to make Jesse realise his own slight relief. Because, deep down, he’s torn. The rumours concern the bar and its owners being anti-masquerade; that they encourage the breaking of the masquerade. Victor had even confirmed that rumour, once, by denying that he himself ever did. There’s the urge to stick his head in the sand and completely ignore the issue, simply because his own progeny is involved. And if he were to go nowhere near the bar, then he wouldn’t be able to witness this break of Masquerade; wouldn’t have to instigate the punishment for it.
On the other hand, he is passionate about his cause and perhaps, just maybe he should spend as much time as possible at the bar. So that he can catch them in the act. So that swift punishment can be exacted. And perhaps, then, his progeny can be extricated from the mess. But there’s no saying it’ll be so clean-cut.
Anyway, now is not the time to think about it. Ishaq seems like he’s in a rush. Jesse chuckles, a low reverberating hum in his throat, the cadence of which is slightly broken. The last time he’d been at the Kit Kat, he’d still had no voice. Why had he gone there? Was it a year ago, nearly exactly? The last auction? Was that really the last time that he had seen Yekaterina? Surely not…
His mind vaguely circles around memories of the woman, trying to place them on his own particular timeline, along with everything else that had happened since. That she didn’t know that he could speak is indicative enough that it’s been a while. He says nothing, as is his forte, as he begins to lead the way. Even if it’s been a while since he’s been to the club, he at least remembers where it is – Wickbridge, 8th Dimension Mall. Ground Floor. A strange place for a club, Jesse had always thought, especially one of Kit Kat’s calibre, but he supposes it works, in its own way.
He shoves his hands into his pockets after making sure his weaponry is definitely sufficiently hidden, leaving Yekaterina to answer the questions about the club. She is more qualified.
On the other hand, he is passionate about his cause and perhaps, just maybe he should spend as much time as possible at the bar. So that he can catch them in the act. So that swift punishment can be exacted. And perhaps, then, his progeny can be extricated from the mess. But there’s no saying it’ll be so clean-cut.
Anyway, now is not the time to think about it. Ishaq seems like he’s in a rush. Jesse chuckles, a low reverberating hum in his throat, the cadence of which is slightly broken. The last time he’d been at the Kit Kat, he’d still had no voice. Why had he gone there? Was it a year ago, nearly exactly? The last auction? Was that really the last time that he had seen Yekaterina? Surely not…
His mind vaguely circles around memories of the woman, trying to place them on his own particular timeline, along with everything else that had happened since. That she didn’t know that he could speak is indicative enough that it’s been a while. He says nothing, as is his forte, as he begins to lead the way. Even if it’s been a while since he’s been to the club, he at least remembers where it is – Wickbridge, 8th Dimension Mall. Ground Floor. A strange place for a club, Jesse had always thought, especially one of Kit Kat’s calibre, but he supposes it works, in its own way.
He shoves his hands into his pockets after making sure his weaponry is definitely sufficiently hidden, leaving Yekaterina to answer the questions about the club. She is more qualified.
FIRE and BLOOD
-
Yekaterina Ostrovsky
- Registered User
- Posts: 159
- Joined: 09 Jul 2012, 01:50
- Contact:
Re: Changing Places, Old Faces [Jesse Fforde/Invite]
Katya nodded once, just the upward jerk of her chin in Jesse's direction, in response to the 'where.' Jesse knew and knew well where the place was, and, if he had any memory of the first (only? She wasn't sure) time they'd found themselves in her office, then he'd know just how to get there, too. Still, she decided to sate Ishaq's general curiosity anyway. "Wickbridge. Not too far from here. 8th Dimension Mall." She shot them both a smile bordering on a smug smirk; they would draw some attention there, true, but Jake would already know Jesse's face - he was really good for that kind of thing, her head of security - and wouldn't question what she was doing or how she or her guests were dressed in any case. It wasn't out of the blue for her to make a late check-in, anyway, and she could always keep an eye on things from the bank of security monitors in her office without actually venturing into the main room itself.
"Its a gentlemen's club, top notch," she said matter-of-factly, if there was a note of pride in her tone. "but there's a full bar with just about anything you can think of, and we'll have some attentive service," she said with a soft grin, getting an inkling as to the male's path... either that or he was about to be very, very uncomfortably ill. She refrained from wrinkling her nose at the thought of sick all over her posh little haven, but she supposed that was what a cleaning crew was for. Besides, the place had seen plenty of blood...
In all honesty, she was content to visit her own club. The Handle Bar sounded interesting, but she wasn't really feeling new locations at the moment, especially without knowing just what to expect there, even if she asked. No. The Kit Kat it was - even with one new face in the mix, Katya was plenty happy to sit back and relax in plush surroundings with bar service at their beck and call.
"Its a gentlemen's club, top notch," she said matter-of-factly, if there was a note of pride in her tone. "but there's a full bar with just about anything you can think of, and we'll have some attentive service," she said with a soft grin, getting an inkling as to the male's path... either that or he was about to be very, very uncomfortably ill. She refrained from wrinkling her nose at the thought of sick all over her posh little haven, but she supposed that was what a cleaning crew was for. Besides, the place had seen plenty of blood...
In all honesty, she was content to visit her own club. The Handle Bar sounded interesting, but she wasn't really feeling new locations at the moment, especially without knowing just what to expect there, even if she asked. No. The Kit Kat it was - even with one new face in the mix, Katya was plenty happy to sit back and relax in plush surroundings with bar service at their beck and call.