♪ Be careful what you eat ♪ (CLOSED)

[Skylar]

I look over at Roxy when she asks if they go. I still kind of need to talk to Elliot and I know Dillon's going to want to finish what I started, so I'm not overly keen on the idea of them leaving. At least not without me. Might be best for Roxy if she got off home and had a chance to clean herself up properly. That is if she didn't need to go to A&E and have it stitched closed. Elliot doesn't seem to be paying the girl much attention, in fact he seems more focused at me. I smile at him as my phone goes off. I'm ninety-nine percent sure the text is from him but I dig it out and check anyways; mainly to see what it says in case he has a new plan or more instructions for me.
"Ah crap. I totally forgot I had a date."
I'm lying but it's a white lie, kind of. I could very well have a date and I did need an excuse to leave and kick Elliot and his friend out. That way we could all leave together. I look at Dillon and I can tell he's unimpressed; something I put down to the fact that he wants to pick up where we left off. I give him a sort of shrug as if to say, 'sorry, not my fault'. He knows I sometimes suck at remembering plans. That's why I generally don't make them if I can help it. Less expectations, equals less disappointments.
"What?" I gesture at Dillon palms up. "I met some guy on the train the other day. He asked me out for drinks. I said yes. And as per usual I forgot."
He rolls his eyes at me and crosses his arms but I'm not in the mood for one of his moods, or a lecture, or whatever else it was that was eating at him.
"Anyways. Elliot...." I look back over at my sire and smile. "Do you mind if we cut this short? I'm sure you can tell us all about your ideas for improving our image and stuff another night right? I mean it might help for you to meet the rest of the band too right? Hear us play. Oh hey. Maybe we should come play for you at Lancaster's when you aren't open?"
I'm kind of talking out of my arse but Dillon was going to wonder why Elliot had come over and it obviously wasn't just to talk music in a casual sense.
While I wait for him to reply I get up and head for my beer which is on the kitchen counter. I'm sure Dillon's probably waiting for Elliot's answer as much as I am, so with my back to the group I text Elliot back; Best talk in private. U R my date. ;)
I send the text, scoop up my bottle and begin to down the contents of it. Since I didn't actually have a date, there wasn't any real urgency to leave but the story only worked if I looked like I was in a hurry. The only thing that wouldn't sell it was the fact that I wasn't going to go and get changed, but then that probably said more about the fictitious guy than it did me. As in I didn't really care what he thought of me.

[Lancaster]

The way that Skylar so easily made up a lie had Elliot watching her with obvious fascination; the way it rolled from her tongue, without a moment’s hesitation. As if it were something she had prepared earlier. It had Elliot wondering whether she did this kind of thing often – lied to get out of certain obligations. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever lied much. Maybe he had. But now that it was something he couldn’t legitimately do, he had to admire it in others. Live vicariously through them.

He grinned at her, as she threw the question his way.

“Yeah, of course. You can all come in… well, whenever it suits you. Doesn’t even have to be when we’re not open. There’s such a thing as open mic night,” he said. Of course Skylar would remember that, though maybe at this point she had a blinding and irrational fear of open mic night. The last one she had attended had got her killed. Although it was hardly something to smile about, Elliot continued to smile anyway, glancing between Skylar and Dillon.

“Because it doesn’t matter what I think, in the end. I am only just one person. The best way to gauge whether a singer or a band are good enough, or any good at all, is to brave a crowd. See how they react, and change your style accordingly,” he said. He then stood up and held out a hand for Roxette, to help her up and out of the slump she’d gotten herself into. The thrall didn’t think that her complaining would have such a quick effect. She assumed they’d be sitting around for another hour or more yet.

He was casual. There was no big deal made about cutting this meeting short. And though Elliot was the type to hang around with a person he’d just met even though the one who’d invited him to the house was leaving, in this scenario he knew it wouldn’t fly. He knew that the story was concocted, and Skylar’s very obvious hint that he get up and leave, was for a reason. That reason being this talk she wanted to have about her teeth.

As soon as Roxette was up on her feet and ready to leave, Elliot checked his phone; he barely refrained from snorting. That’s one text message that he would hope that Pi never saw, simply because she’d take it the wrong way and completely flip her lid.

[Skylar]

I can feel Dillon's disapproving eyes on me when I come back and don't take my seat again. Elliot says we can swing by and play at Lancaster's on an open mic night, which is cool. I expected as much but I didn't want to appear to be too pushy. I shoot my sire a look of amusement too. Just what we needed a band of vampires. Wasn't it already bad enough that he and I had music in our blood? There's a playful twinkle in my eyes as I consider how Elliot could kill an entire band on stage and get away with it, like he had with my performance. Not that I want the guys dead. I just have this image of Elliot being all calm as **** goes down and then freaking out, out back the moment we're alone with the bodies.
As Roxy stood, Dillon got to his feet too. He could be an arse but he knew when to behave and when a local businessman was offering you time on his stage, it was definitely time to behave. He held out his hand to Roxy first and then Elliot.
"Well it was nice to meet you. And thanks for the offer. We'll definitely take you up on it. We'll drop by and arrange a proper time though. Our baseist is on holiday right now, so it may not be for a few weeks yet."
"Oh crap. That's right. Steve is in... Where is he again?"
I turn and look at Dillon for the answer.
"I dunno," he admits. "I can't remember either."
"Oh well. I know where to find you."
I'm looking at Elliot as I say this. I know exactly where to find him, just as he knows where to find me. It's not like I could hide from the guy. Not that I'd want to.
"And yeah. Thanks for coming Elliot. It was really nice of you to take time out of your busy schedule to come coach a couple of reprobates like Dillon and me."
I smile at him and move to the door.
"I'll see you both all the way out. I'm heading out anyways."
Dillon looks like he wants to try and stop me but I glare at him and he just shuffles his feet and folds his arms across his chest. I could sense I was going to get a lecture when I got home. I wouldn't mind if I really did have some hot date to run off to, but being lectured for something I wasn't doing was going to suck. I pout for a moment and then wink at Dillon.
"Don't wait up."
"Oh I won't. Might change the locks while you're gone."
"Pfft. Like I believe that."
If I got lucky, I could actually meet a guy at Ellie's place. Providing that was where we were going. To his pub that was, not his apartment. It's a bit hard to meet people in an apartment unless you're throwing some sort of party for randoms. Which let’s face it, wasn’t likely to happen seeing as the only way to his place was through the sewers and you had to enter a seriously restricted area full of monsters. Though online dating was possible, if I could actually be arsed to sit myself down and create a personal ad for myself. I don’t much like the idea of selling myself in that way. Not that I can’t self-promote, but I’m far more effective live and in colour so to speak. I’m weighing the pros and cons of this idea as I wait for the others to take their leave.

[Lancaster]

It was strange, the way this sixth sense of Elliot’s worked. Sometimes the man just wanted to stand in the middle of a busy room with his eyes closed, just to let the emotions of others wash over him. They were like invisible strings in the air, ready for the plucking. They were a music of their own accord, playing a silent symphony around Elliot. He’d always been musically inclined, but never had he thought he could feel it, not quite like this. The symphonic harmony of the human soul. No, not of the human soul – of the psyche. Whether it belong to a human or to a vampire.

Irritation, from Skylar. Irritation from Dillon, too, but of a different sort. Completely relief from Roxette, who didn’t seem to have any investment in any of this and just wanted to go home. The blonde had already let herself out – she had sauntered toward the door and opened it, leaving it open and she tromped out into the hall. She didn’t wait on ceremony, and nor did she cling o any social standard of manners.

Elliot resisted the urge to act like a mad man. To stand there still and silent with his head cocked to the side to just listen to the emotions around him. Instead, he got a grip. He nodded. “No problem, Skylar. Old man like myself has nothing better to do with his time,” he said with a lopsided grin and a wink. It wasn’t meant to be dismissive; this was something that he was dipping his toes into. Maybe to produce. Mentor younger bands. Although he’d come here because Skylar had summoned him for a completely different reason, he was beginning to wonder whether this lie that they had concocted shouldn’t just become a truth. It wasn’t hard to act the part, now.

And anyway, to say that he had nothing better to do with his time? It couldn’t have been a lie. It was a compliment, of sorts.

“See you soon, Dillon,” Elliot said, before following Roxette out the door, and heading toward the elevator. Roxette had already pushed the button. The doors were sliding open as Elliot arrived, and held them for Skylar, waiting for her to follow them down the hall.

[Skylar]

I wait by the door and am not all that surprised to see Roxy skip out first. Elliot's not so much like us. He's more polite. More thoughtful. I wait as he excuses himself properly and laugh with him as he calls himself an old man. The guy isn't old, old. Not really. He's just older than us and probably a lot more set in his ways. He's also more experienced than us, and Dillon and I could do with a little guidance, musically speaking that is.
"You're probably going to live to regret that," I tell him as he leaves.
I slip my feet into a pair of heels, since they're next to the door; a convenient choice. Heels with jeans work for a date too. So that's fine.
"Later Dillhole!"
I snatch my key and some cash from off the side table and slam the door closed behind me before I make a run for the elevator. The plan worked pretty well all things considered. If Dillon had a few more brain cells we might have had some issues but things went smoothly, all things considered.
"Well that could have gone worse. Right?"
I let the sentence hang in the air. It had been an odd night. I rake my fingers through my hair and loosen it a little while simultaneously flattening it down. I still had the remnants of bed hair from my earlier activities and I hated going out looking like I just rolled out of bed. I'm not overly vain but appearances are still important.
"Dillon bought that story pretty nicely. Good job he's not the sharpest tool in the box. We'd of had more trouble had I bitten Steve. He actually has a brain. Not that Dillon's stupid."
I find myself backpedalling but I'm not sure why. Maybe because I don't like calling my friend stupid, or maybe it's just because I think it reflects badly on me. I don't hang around stupid people. I'm not thick. Sure. I play the blonde card when I have to, but I play the female card more often than that. Manipulating people can be easy if you know which of your own strengths or attributes to use against people. It was a matter of reading people and while I wasn't perfect at that, I did have a little practice. I tend to think I have an unfair advantage though at times, considering my target is usually some guy I want to get something from. I'm not ashamed to play with what god gave me and exploit the fact that people see me as the ditsy blonde, not if it's going to help me get what I want or need. Not that I need much. Usually I'm just seeing how far people will go, where their boundaries are. I'm no con artist.
I shove the key in my left back pocket and my money in my front right and then bend down to adjust the straps on my heels on my feet so I'm more comfortable. One of the straps had twisted as I'd put them on and I didn't want to waste time sorting that out while I was in the apartment. Partially as I didn't want to keep the others waiting and partly as I didn't want to be lectured by Dillon. I could see he was itching to say something just before I left. Whatever it was, was bound to be unimportant and could wait till I got home later. For some reason I doubt he'll forget what it was while I'm out.

[Lancaster]

Elliot snorted as he wandered into the elevator with the two girls. Skylar, prattling on like she was nervous about something, though Elliot knew she wasn’t nervous, so much as… well, he was still figuring out this particular sixth sense. Some emotions were hard to determine. The chord not clean. He wandered into the back corner of the elevator to lean languidly against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded loosely over his chest. Roxette, by habit or by subconscious psychosis, assumed a mirrored position in the other corner.

“You realise he’s got the hots for you, right?” Roxette asked Skylar, not at all trying to hide the hint of bitterness in her tone. She’d have loved to have stayed behind to keep Dillon company, but due to Elliot’s hints, she knew it was probably a lost cause. And, given her current state of weak tiredness, she wasn’t sure she had it in her to even begin to try to chase.

“Mhm. He wants to kiss you,” he said, picking up on Roxette’s cue.

“He wants to hoooold you,” Roxette continued with the game, crooning at Skylar from her tight little corner, a lazy smile resting on her carmine lips, amusement glittering in her eyes – eyes that couldn’t decide whether they were hazel or blue.

“He wants to looove you, until death do you part,” Elliot crooned some more, though they gave up on the game after that. Point made. Elliot arched a brow – did Skylar realise? And what would she do with the information, now that she had it? Would she deny and dismiss? Maybe he’d allow her her ignorance, if that were the case. Sometimes ignorance could be bliss, and in this situation it couldn’t really do any harm. And if it did, he could at least say I told you so.

“But serious, now – what’s wrong with your teeth?” he asked. He was watching Skylar fiddle with her shoes, for all the world like she was actually going out on a date. Elliot was probably just going to head back to Lancaster’s. Or maybe to the boat, to check up on all the new renovations for the River Cruise business. A business that really couldn’t do much of anything in Winter, except perhaps if people wanted to use the boat as a setting for a Christmas party of function of some kind. Sometimes they liked that kind of thing.

[Skylar]

I'm not paying either of them much attention as they stand there like a pair of book ends and start teasing me. Instead of rising to the childish little outburst by getting all huffy, I wiggle my arse to the rhythm, since I'm bent over and sorting out my heels; it's a moving target for them to focus on. When I'm done, and before the elevator hits the ground floor I cross one foot over the other at the ankle and spin myself round to face them both, hands on hips.
"How old are you both?"
I give them both a playful glare and then grin, before answering my own question.
"Too old to be pulling **** like this. I can tell you that."
I poke my tongue out at them both.
"Besides. Dillon likes anything with a pulse. It's not exactly news. He doesn't like me any more than he likes the next girl. Hell, he'd of made a pass at Roxy if he thought he'd stand a chance with her. The guy's a player."
As we slow to a stop, I do my little turn again. I usually wear trainers, so the heels always make me a little more playful and feminine. I feel like strutting with these on. I laugh at myself and step out of the metal box and wait for my escorts as I've no clue where we're going.
"My teeth are broken."
I shrug as if I don't care but a part of me kind of does - not because it would be easier to feed. Well not so much because of that - but rather because I seemed to hurt Dillon a lot when I fed off of him. A pang of guilt hits my stomach and without even thinking about it a hand moves to calm the emotion in me.
"I don't have fangs," I clarify. "But I'm supposed to right? I'm not supposed to rip the skin in the way I did. You must have noticed the marks on Dillon's neck... Right?"
Another wave of guilt. Luckily my hand is still there to protect me from it. I push against my stomach in the hopes of pushing that feeling back down again. Damn Dillon. Right now I was just going to blame him. Me being broken had to be his fault somehow. Maybe I just didn't want it enough. Maybe Elliot needed to teach me some trick in order to be able to feed easier. Besides chowing down on the blood bags that was; those things were kind of nasty compared to the real thing. Not that I knew that till last night. Before then they tasted pretty damn good.
I keep my voice down as I speak. Naturally. You never know who's lurking around the next corner and what they might overhear. Sure. People say weird **** these days. The streets seemed to be filled with roleplayers and the like. Worse comes to worse I can always say I'm rehearsing a scene for a play. I could do Am-Dram if I wasn't so into my music. At least I like to think I could. What woman isn't a talented actress, in their own right. I knew a few that could give Sandra Bullock a run for her money if they were given a chance.

[Lancaster]

Roxette gave Elliot a look behind Skylar’s back.

Elliot just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Skylar has decided to be obtuse – to not see what’s there right in front of her eyes, or to put two and two together. She didn’t quite know, yet, that Elliot had the ability to ‘sense’ the emotions of others, and so the simple fact that he could not lie (which she was privy to) wouldn’t be enough to prove to her that what he was saying was true.

The musician wasn’t the kind of person to step into other people’s business. In fact, he’d been called out as a negligent sire because he failed to follow up on the wellbeing of those he’d turned. Aside from Skylar and his adopted Charlie, he had no idea what was going on with the rest of them. He assumed Asteria was safe and happy with Aidan. Reilly would be out doing Reilly things – hacking, and remaining a secluded introvert, Lex had always been independent, Cytherea was god-knows-where, and Jia li? Elliot didn’t know, either.

He figured if they needed his help, they would come and find him. They were all grown adults.

Roxette managed a snort, but she held her tongue. She wasn’t as bitter as she might appear to be. She was already over it, and looking forward to a hot shower and a warm bed. Or maybe she would have a hot shower and go out to find herself someone else’s warm bed to spend the rest of the night in – there was never anything better than sex in the morning, and that was something that she felt like instigating.

As the schemes were forming in Roxette’s brain, Elliot stood with a small smile on his face, happy to leave Skylar and Dillon to work their **** out with each other. If Dillon had a set of balls, he’d step up and admit his attraction one day. Until then, the guy should suffer for having no confidence.

As soon as they’ve exited the elevator, Roxette continued to walk. She didn’t stop or pause. She didn’t even say goodbye. She just left without a backward glance. Elliot didn’t even blink. It was the kind of attitude that he was used to from her. Instead, he focused on Skylar’s guilt. It was a heavy thing, emanating from her like the wave of a Tsunami – the aftershock sending smaller waves each after the first onslaught.

Elliot knew that guilt. He was quite familiar with that guilt. It was his constant boon buddy. He laid a hand on Skylar’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze.

“You didn’t kill him. He’s perfectly fine and healthy and… robust,” he said with a small smile. The guy’s sexual appetite was quite clear, even to the unobservant. The dilemma that Skylar described was not one that he had heard of before. It certainly wasn’t something he had ever suffered. The smile was quickly chased away by a frown.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit and have a drink yeah? You’re all dressed up and you have a few hours to kill. We’ll try to figure it out,” he offered, leading them toward the complex’s exit, knowing there’d have to be somewhere around they could sit and talk.

“Do you feel like alcohol, or something hot?” he asked. Sometimes a nice large hot chocolate was all a person needed to feel a bit better about life.

[Skylar]

Roxy was gone before I knew it. I was a little miffed that she didn’t say goodbye or anything, but mainly because I’d of taken that opportunity to say thanks again for the blood. Poor girl was going to be scarred for life and it was my fault. I shrug as I realise that opportunity has passed me by and consider the fact that I could perhaps get her something nice for Christmas by way of a belated thank you. Christmas is only a few months off after all.
“Something hot!”
I reply with a little too much enthusiasm and without really thinking.
“Only make it a guy instead of a drink. Someone tall, dark and handsome. The kind of guy you know is trouble just by looking at him.”
I’m practically drooling at the thought of my fantasy guy. Dillon hadn’t done much to inspire any real emotion in me during our encounter but that, mixed with the blood I’d taken from Roxy had me feeling a little frisky.
“The kind of guy that would freak mum out if I were to bring him home. Don’t suppose you know anyone like that?”
I laugh but I’m dead serious. I’d pretty much described my dream guy. Maybe it was something that had started in my teenage rebellion phase. I don’t know. But if it was, it stuck around. I liked my guys a little rough around the edges. Opposites attract and all that. At least that’s what my younger sister said when she was trying to justify my choice in boyfriends. Mum didn’t fall for it though. Telling her that I was a good girl was like trying to tell her the grass was green, only seeing as how she’s colour blind – for the purposes of this analogy only – she couldn’t agree. I’d never done anything wrong. Not really. A few minor curfew infractions here and there. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, for me I never measured up when placed alongside my siblings. I’d long ago established my place as the black sheep of the family. I shake myself free of those thoughts and back onto what Elliot had said about Dillon.
“And yeah. He’s fine. Healthy fine. Not good looking fine.”
The moment I say that I regret it. It wasn’t true and I as per usual I immediately start back tracking.
“Okay well maybe that’s not strictly true. He’s fine in both senses. I mean he’s a good looking guy. Any girl in her right mind can see that. He’s just too much of a player for my tastes. I mean I don’t mind a bad guy, but the love ‘em and leave ‘em sort. No thanks. Point being, he’s alive though. Right? Like no harm, no foul, kinda thing.”

[Lancaster]

Elliot was not expecting the reply that he got.

Something hot. Yes, he could do that – there was a place he knew just down the road from Lancaster’s. The Corner Café. He helped them out a lot with their charity endeavours. They often ran a soup kitchen for the homeless, and helped to gather blankets and jackets. This time of the year was the worst for death amongst the homeless. They simply could not keep warm enough. Elliot knew that sometimes it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t simply because they were too lazy to get a job. Sometimes circumstance put them on the streets and once they’d hit rock bottom, there was just no way to climb back out again. Not without the help of strangers. Elliot endeavoured to be one of those helpful strangers. And, because of that, he’d garnered a good relationship with those who owned and worked at the Café – it was a good place to go, sometimes, if the pub atmosphere got to be a bit too much. It was a good place to go to relax – and they did a mean Italian hot chocolate.

But Skylar had other ideas, and Elliot’s mouth snapped shut, his blue eyes blinking against the cold weather as it battered against his senses. Before he could comment, Skylar had already moved on, babbling about Dillon. Elliot had to smile. He even laughed, a long low chuckle emanating from his throat.

”Are you sure Dillon doesn’t fit your specifications of a nice bad boy to bring home? Is he really a player, Skylar? Has he brought women home? A train of them, one after the other, for filthy one night stands?” he asked. And he was curious; the vibe he’d got from Dillon was that he would settle down, if a certain young blonde would have him. Sometimes men slept around because they couldn’t have what they wanted. Sometimes.

Elliot began to weave them through the streets, to head toward the café. He wasn’t sure how he felt about finding Skylar someone tall dark and handsome. Some bad boy for her to tame. Elliot never understood the concept. Did those men even exist outside of popular novels and movies, or were they just a fantasy that women had made up? Elliot nodded.

”He’s alive. And that is what matters. If your tooth problem keeps up, though, I think maybe – if you strictly need something hot to keep you satisfied – maybe it would be better for him if you… well, tell him. If you can trust him. Only if you can trust him. There might be easier ways to get his blood rather than scarring him horribly every single time,” Elliot said with a cringe. He wasn’t sure how helpful he was being. Maybe he was just making things worse.