Path of the Vampire forum

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Kleopatra: Kleo hadn’t been out since the Mardi Gras carnival and party Tuesday evening, and up until the night before it felt as if her body was still recovering. She enjoyed the privacy her newly purchased home afforded her but sometimes, like tonight, it was too private. She felt the urge to get out, to experience the sights and smells the city had to offer, and perhaps have a taste or two, too. In fact, one could say she was celebrating- she’d made her first kill in the name of the Masquerade not long ago and the euphoria of driving her blade into the man’s brain hadn’t quite worn off.

Harper Rock had no shortage of clubs or other night time hangouts, but what Kleo sought was specific. Nowhere too bright or loud- she craved a darker atmosphere ripe with inhibition and lust, the smell of blood mixed throughout it all, unbeknownst to the humans who mingled with others like her.

Necropolis.

Kleo pushed through the doors into the space of black, white, and rich red. She stood rooted, considering what she’d like to do- find a man or woman to dance with and enjoy more than just their moves? Head to the bar and see what it had to offer? Or simply observe those around? Decisions...

Aysel: She had attended the Mardi Gras party for a brief time, and then retreated to her beloved Necropolis. Since Amaranthia had left it in her care, she spent almost all of her time there, either looking over the books or slinging drinks behind the bar as she was doing tonight. Her mind wandered, oddly, to Zakar and Kleo. She could tell he liked the woman, and AJ couldn’t resist teasing him when ever she got the chance. But part of her mind wondered if Kleo liked her.

She had been told and been told often that she seemed aloof, snobbish and even bitchy until a person got to know her. And that was something she couldn’t help, it was ingrained in her as much as the habit of breathing was ingrained in her. Even now, standing behind the bar and fixing drinks, she was still dressed in mourning clothes. As she would be for the next four months. The only difference is that she wore a shorter black tunic that fell to mid-thigh instead of the sweeping floor length design, and she had left her hair uncovered, even though it was bound up tightly.

Kleopatra: When she went out, Kleo couldn’t resist a pair of heels, whether boots or pumps, and tonight was no different. Standing just over six-foot tall she was a head above most in the room, except a figure at the bar who she could see clearly because they were the only other at eye level with her. It was a woman, and recognition tugged at Kleo’s mind. Her hazel eyes slid downward, and a small grunt of confirmation escaped her when she saw the clothing of choice. Aysel. She doubted there was another woman in the entire city who looked remotely like her- there could be no mistake. How long had she been working there? Kleo tried to recall if this was something she knew but had failed to remember.

The sound of her heels against the tiled floor was muffled by the music and chatter of the crows as she worked her way toward the bar, turning her body this way and that to avoid bumping into anyway. There was a small line ahead of her leading to Aysel, but she had patience. Kleo stood behind a blonde haired male who smelled of stale whiskey and Marlboros. Her nose twitched in disgust but she remained quiet, looking ahead. Perhaps if her gaze was intense enough, Aysel would look up. She smiled at the thought.

Aysel: She had always had a sixth sense for the supernatural, something that didn’t go away after she had been turned. The line before her was all human. Mostly. She lifted her gaze and caught the eyes of a heavily tattooed woman. A woman she knew very well by sight. It was Kleo and she was instantly tense and on guard. She served the people in front of her one by one, dread increasing as patron after patron left the bar to enjoy their drinks. She didn’t want confrontation in her club. Hell she didn’t want confrontation at all.

The far too drunk blonde man was now standing in front of her, demanding more booze. A demand AJ refused to give him. She was about to lose her temper and instead, she leaned forward and grabbed the man by his shirt front, yanking him half on top the bar as she whispered to him.

Kleopatra: Perhaps it work? Aysel had noticed her, she was sure. Kleo gave a fuller smile, though it didn’t show teeth. The smile was lost however, when blondie in front of her had a full on b**** fit when he was turned down for more alcohol. Some people just don’t know when to stop. Go buy a bottle at the store, take your a** home, and drink until you’re satisfied. she thought. But she knew his type- just as one drink hadn’t been enough, neither would a single bottle. She sighed as he stood his ground, and had been about to open her mouth to convince him that he should get moving when Aysel’s hand reached forth to grab hold of him. Content with being able to remain uninvolved, Kleo flipped her hair over her shoulders, sending the waist length waves down her back. The nude colored dress she wore was semi-sheer, and when she moved her tattoos pressed against the material, as if hidden by a veil.

Aysel: Thankfully no one could hear her as she handled and man-handled the drunk man. Her threats fell on booze soaked ears and she could smell the fear radiating off him in waves. The good thing was, the man was so wasted no one would believe what he was saying. With a last whispered threat and a hard shove, she sent the man sprawling, her eyes lifting to Kleo’s face as she smoothed out the black tunic. She then gave a little bow and spoke just loud enough for the woman to hear as she waited for her to approach.

“Salaam alaikum. Forgive me for the rudeness I have just shown. I hope you do not take offense.”

Kleopatra: Nothing went unnoticed by Kleo, whose eyes narrowed as she tried to ignore the exchange Aysel and the man were having. Her acute hearing made it nearly impossible to tune out, so she deliberately thought of other things. Hunting, decorating, Zakar...she smiled again, a glint of ivory peeking through her full lips.

Thrown off by the excitement that’d coursed through her at the thought of the man, she was caught off guard by Aysel’s greeting. “Masaa’ al-kh---” Her mouth snapped closed. The Arabic had come naturally in reply, and she looked at Aysel guiltily, closing the gap between them. “Hey there...No offense taken, no worries.”

Aysel: Her brows lifted towards her hairline, curious about the seeming slip. It was impolite to ask or pry, so she simply smiled warmly, even if it was a little tight at the corners. She looked the woman over, envious of the freedom she had with her choice of clothing, while at the same time admiring the myriad of tattoos she carried on her skin. After too long spent staring, she finally met the woman’s eyes again and her tight smile turned sheepish.

“Forgive me for staring. I admire your ink work.” She was idly polishing a glass and suddenly seemed to remember that she was a bartender, and she was working in her club. “Can I get you something to drink, Kleo?”

Kleopatra: Aysel’s face said what she herself did not- You speak Arabic? Kleo wasn’t secretive, just more of the “I’ll tell you if you ask me” sort. What little she knew of Aysel told her asking wasn’t likely to occur though, so Kleo decided to be forthcoming. “My mother has Egyptian roots. She’s fluent in Arabic, I’m conversational...” Arabic was her fourth language in fact- Kleo’s family was a mixture of European and African descent, and no culture had gone unappreciated in her home growing up. “...And thanks, this is nine years worth of work you’re lookin at. Lotsa pain, but I ain’t complainin now.” she winked at the woman.

When Aysel offered her a drink, the word itself made her very aware of the dryness creeping along her throat. “Surprise me?” she gave Aysel a meaningful look, knowing the other would understand.

Aysel: “Nine years? I have spent eight getting mine and it is nothing so grand as that.”

The explanation of her heritage did not go unnoticed or ignored, but instead was met with a slight downward tilt of the tall woman’s chin, as if to say “hale and well met”. Her hands had automatically started to fulfill the woman’s drink request. She would certainly be surprised by what she was getting. After several moments, she placed a martini glass before the woman, the rim glimmering with red crystal sugar. Looking up at Kleo, she gave a wink as she dropped in a cherry that took a little too long to sink through the liquid.

Kleopatra: ”Yep, nine years. I’m kinda...addicted.” Kleo grinned. “I would get inked pretty regularly, especially during my apprenticeship- I loved the work of the artists at the shop, so I was always coming up with designs or letting them design for me. Was a good time!”

As she spoke, Kleo’s eyes followed Aysel’s movements. The drink the other prepared was quite lovely, and the scent of the blood had her licking her lips. “Shukran!” she exclaimed, pulling the drink closer by its stem as she moved to the side so she was no longer blocking the line, but still nearby. Her thumb rubbed gently at the glistening sugar rim, clearing a space large enough for her lips- she wasn’t convinced the sugar was safe for her consumption.

Aysel: She kept her eyes on Kleo, even as she filled the last of the drink requests from the line of people, and one of the cocktail waitresses, the tray filled with a colorful array of shots, beers and martini glasses. Wiping her hands on a towel, she moved to stand in front of the other woman, wiping down the bar in slow, steady movements.

Socializing was not one of her strong suits, even working and running a bar, she was still awkward about it. When the silence had stretched on for too long to be comfortable, her hand stilled its movements and she met Kleo’s gaze.

“Why are you here?”

She hadn’t meant the question to sound as rude as it did and her nose crinkled slightly in apology. None of her family or faction ever came here. It was her sanctuary, the place she could come to escape everything. Including her very public humiliation. Seeing Kleo in such a sacred place had made her tense and edgy, despite the friendly chit-chat about tattoos.

Kleopatra: She’d been in the middle of lifting the glass to her mouth when Aysel questioned her. A slight frown appeared as she lowered the drink back to the bar-top instead. “Just came to change up my pattern, congratulate myself a little, and relax...is that alright?” It was the nicest way for her to say “Do you have a problem with that?” that she could think of. Her eyes stayed on Aysel’s as she waited for a response, and she finally took a sip of her drink during the pause.

Aysel: She gave a shake of her head and smiled faintly. Picking up her own drink, a fizzy plastic cup filled with Sprite and Lime Juice, she took a few swallows through the straw and sighed, reigning in her wayward emotions as she looked the woman over once more.

“You do have much reason to celebrate.” She agreed and tilted her head. “Tonight you drink on the house.” It was an unspoken apology for being rude as well as an offer to celebrate with her. “I am not used to seeing any of Andras here. It is nice to see a… familiar face.” She had hesitated for a brief moment, changing ‘friendly’ to familiar at the last second. She wasn’t sure where she stood with the woman. She wanted to be friends with her, but was still nervous about making the attempt.

Kleopatra: Kleo drank deeply as Aysel answered, the glass soon empty save for the dregs of blood clinging to the walls. She noticed the woman’s drink was not blood and noted she must be what she’d heard referred to as an allurist.

She smiled wide at Aysel’s offer- Kleo liked to drink, and since juices and spirits were no longer options, she’d become somewhat of a glutton for blood. “Thanks! I’ll agree to that, so long as you’ll at least take a tip for the trouble of makin these pretty things.” She raised her glass a fraction, then set it down in front of her, pushing it away.

“No? Maybe this kinda place isn’t their scene, I dunno.” She gave a small shrug. “I get the urge to go out every once in awhile. This is my second time out this week. It’s nice to enjoy a bit of...normalcy. Didn’t expect to see you here, so that was a nice little surprise. I’ve been wantin to talk to you.”

Aysel: She slid the empty glass towards her and instantly began to fix Kleo another drink. This one was a specialty she had managed to make using plenty of blood, but more remarkable, she made it change color from a deep crimson red to green, the sugar on the rim matching the color. She added a twist of lime peel for effect. As she set the glass before Kleo she “accidentally” smeared away enough sugar on the rim for her to drink safely.

“Forgive me, I seem to be a bit careless tonight.” She gave a shy smile, hoping the woman caught on. She set the empty glass in a sink of hot water and dried her hands carefully.

“I work here. I have for a very long time.” She didn’t yet make mention she was now the de facto owner. It was a private thing she would only say if asked. It still caused her heart to ache, thinking about how she’d come in to the care of the Necropolis and the woman who owned it. Only to have it all turned where she now cared for the Necropolis and jealously guarded the spirit of Amaranthia, trying to preserve it as best she could.

“What can I do for you?”

Kleopatra: Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as another drink was made then offered to her. She gave a soft “Thanks again.” and continued to inspect it. She’d watched it be poured so she knew it was blood- the color would just take some getting used to. Aysel had even cleared a safe space for her to drink this time and she appreciated it.

“Really? I didn’t know that. I’ve been here a few times since I...moved here, but I’ve never seen you. I was probably too late or too early to catch you. I like it here, this place is sexy.” As she said it, Kleo looked around, taking in the space again before refocusing to answer Aysel. “Well, for starters I just wanted to try to get to know you some. We could potentially be...co-workers, so there’s that. Then, there’s you and Zakar…” Her voice trailed off.

Aysel: ”Co-workers?” She asked curiously, refreshing her Sprite and adding another shot of pure lime juice to the fizzy glass. She took a few sips and managed not to choke on the beverage when Zakar was mentioned. Instead, she blinked owlishly at the woman across the mahogany expanse of wood, suddenly alert and tense once more. “Sarif El-Sayed?” She questioned, using his title as had become habit for her. “What about him?”

Kleopatra: ”Yes, co-workers.” Kleo repeated, with more emphasis this time so that Aysel might conclude she was referring to their common faction, not the place in which they both stood now. Watching her, Kleo was envious of the freedom she was allowed with her drinks, and her eyes narrowed when the mention of Zakar’s name seemed to elicit a strong response. From the catch in her throat to the way her back stiffened, Kleo was confused. “Yeah...him.” Her reply was drawn out. “Just makes me wanna get to know you all the more? Since I’m around...and you’re around, it’d be silly for us not to get acquainted. I think so anyway.”

Aysel: “Right. Co-workers.” She said as she caught the meaning, she was feeling awkward again, her throat tight as if she didn’t know what to do or say. Thankfully the printer spewed out a ticket and she was saved from having to answer. Bustling towards the other end of the bar gave her time to compose her thoughts, wondering what she wanted to talk about Zakar for. She hoped it wouldn’t be one of the awkward “can I date your ex” conversations. Especially since she had been nothing but encouraging in that regard, at least to Zakar.

She placed the last of the glasses on the tray and slid it over to the waiting server, then she returned to Kleo and poured herself a drink. Three fingers of Glenlivet splashed into the lowball glass, causing the ice inside to crack and complain.

“Forgive the interruption.” She said with a smile.

Kleopatra: ”Uh huh.” Kleo said, silently cursing the order that’d just come through. Her eyes followed Aysel as she made quick work of pouring and grouping the drinks, consuming her own green concoction steadily. She hadn’t meant anything by her statement- she knew Zakar was close with Aysel, and with her and Zakar’s seemingly progressing association, she wanted everyone involved to feel comfortable. Standing around silently or leaving every time the woman approached was getting old.

The jump from Sprite to Glen hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kleo, and she had half a thought to ask if her questioning was making the woman uncomfortable. “Forgiven.” She repeated the word back. “So, Zakar.” The drinks had forced the conversation to pause, but Kleo had no issue with putting it back into motion.

Aysel: “What about him?” She asked, trying for casual, but she knew the edge in her voice was obvious. She set the whisky glass on a coaster and looked at Kleo. Zakar was her dearest friend. And friend didn’t encompass everything he truly meant to the Turkish woman. Her relationship with Zakar was jealously guarded, coveted and private. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him and she didn’t care how it looked to outsiders. In a country of many different cultures and Western philosophy, Zakar was the one familiarity that tied her to what she perceived as a normal life. She wanted and encouraged the man to date, just as he did with her. But she also knew he was just as private as she was and so questions that seemed to pry about his personal life were not welcomed.

Kleopatra: Kleo stared openly at the woman, her jaw twitching as she picked up the coolness that had taken over Aysel’s voice, causing her eyebrows to lift. Something was off, though Kleo couldn’t quite name it.

She sighed softly and gave a shake of her head. “I’m not trying to intrude…” She began with the disclaimer, hoping it might do something to diffuse the tenseness she could feel creeping in. “You mean a lot to him, I can see that. And Zakar...I care about him. So in short, what’s important to him isn’t gonna be overlooked by me. We’ve been to several events now, and I’ve still yet to have a full conversation with you. With us here now, that’s changed...but I don’t want it to stop here.” Kleo fell silent.

Aysel: She nodded faintly, wondering what she had to do with the budding relationship between the two. Rather than say that though, she took a moment to sip her whisky, letting it burn its way down her throat. She wasn’t supposed to drink, but it was a Western habit she had come to appreciate on the rare occasion. As the silence stretched and seemed like it would keep going, she finally spoke.

“Sarif El-Sayed is very important to me. He is an integral part of my life and I will not leave his side. If he dates someone, that person will have to understand that he would drop everything to help me, just as I would do for him. It takes a very special kind of person to understand the relationship that he and I have with each other.” She paused and looked the woman over slowly, her gaze had barely warmed up. She liked Kleo, she really did, but she would not be shoved aside for a fling. “Are you that kind of person?”

Kleopatra: Kleo had all the time in the world to wait on Aysel’s reply. She set her drink down, half finished, and continued to wait until the woman’s lips finally began to move. She listened as Aysel went on about her connection with Zakar, nodding her head to show she was actively listening. Nothing Aysel said alarmed or bothered her in any way. Kleo wasn’t the clingy type- she didn’t and wouldn’t expect Zakar to be by her side at all times. She encouraged him to maintain whatever obligations and relationships he already had and to foster new ones. She was confident, which was often misinterpreted as feeling she was superior to others. Kleo was secure, and simply didn’t let insecure people phase her.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty special so yeah, maybe I am that kinda person.” Really, the way Aysel described their commitment to one another was not unfamiliar to Kleo. She understood it because she was living it as well. There was one who came before all others in her life, and would continue to do so.

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Aysel: The way she phrased her answer made AJ relax slightly. She took another sip of her drink and leaned forward on the bar so they could talk quietly without being overheard. Their conversation was no ones business and she almost contemplated taking Kleo in to her office. Then she realized that could make the situation more tense. So she stayed where she was.

“Zakar and I also have a very special, some what sticky situation that we have to deal with. In regards to that, you would never ever be able to leave any of your personal items at his place. You would always have to stay together at your home.”

Kleopatra: Kleo was becoming increasingly suspicious- she had thought there might be something she was unaware of, but now she was downright positive. Still, she chose to have faith in Zakar, believing he’d tell her himself if there was something she needed to know. How long she’d have to wait for that time however, she wasn’t sure.

“Never leave my personal items at his place...interestin.” She fell silent for awhile as speculations bombarded her mind. “Well, he’s more than welcome at my place…” Kleo went on. “Which would take care of that issue.”

Aysel: She gave a nod, her fingers automatically moving to the wedding set she wore on her left hand, only to encounter the stump of her ring finger. It was slowly growing back, but until then, she didn’t wear any jewelry on it.

“Do you recall the “truths” game from the Andras board? About the biggest lie you ever told? When I said I was married to a wealthy Saudi man?”

She figured the woman would find out sooner or later, best to jump in with both feet first.

Kleopatra: Kleo shifted on her feet- she’d been in one position for too long, and figured her unwavering stillness might freak people out should they notice. “Yes...I remember…” How could she forget? Both she and Aysel had admitted to pretending to be someone's wife.

Aysel: She nodded slightly. “That wealthy Saudi man is Zakar. According to our culture and contracts I am First Wife to Sarif El-Sayed.”

She paused to let it sink in as she took a sip of her whisky, her eyes moving to Kleo’s again.

“Normally it is not a problem, because we are not married according to Western culture. There was no priest, no church. All we did was sign the contracts with His Excellency Aarif El-Sayed, Zakar’s late father.”

She sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, this is where things got kind of complicated.

“So pretending to be his wife is only something I have to do in Turkey or Saudi Arabia or when dealing with clients. Zakar’s family deals in oil, you see. Here in Harper Rock, we live separate lives, date others. Things like that.”

She paused again and looked at the woman expectantly, waiting to see if she had any questions before she continued.

Kleopatra: Kleo was pissed, simply put, and the humans in the vicinity were the single thing stopping her from doing something rash. Her vision was flickering, trying to slip into the thermal vision that signaled the shifting shape of her pupils from round to vertical slits. She took a breath for the sake of the action and calmed herself, though her fingers gripped the counter edge firmly.Married? MARRIED? She fought to silence her thoughts so she could listen to the rest, hear it all before jumping to conclusions.

“That sounds like a marriage to me.” Kleo said flatly when Aysel stopped speaking. She was liking the situation less and less with each passing second. “And what, might I ask...does “pretending” to be his wife entail?” Warmth had long since left her tone- there was no attitude, but then she wasn’t making much of an effort to come across friendly either.

Aysel: She was afraid of this, the iciness and anger that she could sense coming off the other woman.

“Well, when we are in the East, I walk six steps behind and slightly to the right of him. I attend his every need, such as preparing his baths and fixing his meals. I take every order he gives me and I do not speak directly to him unless he speaks directly to me first. I never look him in the eye or touch him as that is improper.”

She reached for the whisky glass, only to find it empty. Instead she took up her soda and took a long, healthy swallow.

“When we are here there are no such pretenses. I have my own apartment that I stay in. Or I stay in the Eyrie. The only reason it is a complication here is that his family has a habit of coming by unannounced. His mother, Fatima, is even worse now that Aarif has passed. She worries for her only surviving son. In light of that, Zakar and I have an apartment together. His apartment to be specific. I keep clothes and personal things there to make it look as if he and I live together. This way, when she comes to visit, the ruse is not revealed and neither of us are punished for what we’ve done.”

Kleopatra: Kleo was just shy of being completely speechless, her jaw flexing as if she wanted to say something but was holding back. “Again, interestin.” Their actions when in the East were perhaps the most unappealing for her to wrap her mind around.

Still unable to put her thoughts into words just yet, Kleo stared at Aysel as she downed another drink. There were things she wanted to ask but either couldn’t find the words or didn’t think Necropolis was the place to have the discussion...or perhaps it was; at the very least, having to uphold the Masquerade with the humans around was keeping her civil. Depending on the answers she could get to some of her questions, being forced to behave well might not be such a bad thing.

Kleo was shutting down, her words few and the tension tangible. She hated when this happened because then she really did come off as being b*****, but what could she do when she had no control over it. “I’m really at...a loss right now.”

Aysel: She sucked in a breath and sighed softly.

“I am sorry, Kleo. I know it is a lot to take in.” She reached out and gently placed her left hand on top of the other woman’s hand, letting her clearly see that she was missing her pinky and ring finger.

“Turkey is far worse to women than Saudi Arabia. There we are property. Like cows or goats. The marriage contracts keep my family from selling me off, and they keep Zakar’s family from trying to marry him off. It gives us room to breathe. To date, to find love and truly marry for the right reasons rather than some cultural version of “normal”.

She took the woman’s empty glass and poured her a fresh drink, this time in a whisky glass. Blood, straight up and body temperature.

“You have to understand, we do this because it allows us to live with freedom we would not have otherwise. Surely, as a woman who pretended to be anothers wife herself, you can understand?”

Kleopatra: Kleo was seemingly staring through Aysel, and her hand twitched when she registered her touch. Her first instinct was to pull away, but looking down she noticed it was jewelry free so she grit her teeth inconspicuously and let it remain.

Kleo wasn’t ignorant to the customs and traditions of other nations, so all of the things Aysel went on to tell her were things she knew to be true in many situations. When the dark haired woman mentioned being sold off or Zakar being married off, her displeasure was made vocal by a low growl, which she quickly turned into a cough. Neither of those prospects made her happy, and she softened further at the mention of consensual love and marriage- she believed everyone was entitled to that. “I can’t argue there…”

Kleo welcomed the glass of blood Aysel poured then, and drank it in several gulps, happy to find it was heated. As it caught at her throat and beyond it sent a feeling of warmth throughout her that seemed to reach her demeanor, which softened.

“I can understand your reasons why, but definitely not because of my own experience, the two can’t be compared. I was just savin him from some desperate chick that really wanted his c...yeah.” She cleared her throat.

Aysel: She looked down shyly at the cut off word that had been about to leave Kleo’s mouth, a smile played on her lips as she wiped down the top of the bar. She looked up after a few moments and smiled, shy and unsure.

“So you see, while I love him, and he loves me. It is not the same kind of love shared by a couple. By people who are married. It is a deep love of mutual respect, admiration and friendship. I would never get in the way of his happiness. And I can only hope whomever he dates and falls in love with will have the same respect for mine and his relationship as I would for theirs.”

She poured herself another whisky and sipped it, hoping she was reassuring the woman rather than making her mad.

Kleopatra: A smirk tugged at Kleo’s mouth, and when she caught Aysel smiling at her moments later, she was able to return the expression. “I’m understanding more.” And she was. It didn’t make the situation any less odd, but at least now it was less a mystery, something that had been addressed honestly. “And you don’t hafta worry...about me respectin y’alls relationship, because I do. Even if parts of it don’t exactly sit well with me, I can still respect it.”

Watching Aysel down more whiskey, Kleo was glad it didn’t have much, if any effect on her. With the woman being taller than she was, she didn’t know how she’d manage to carry her off if she got wasted. The thought made her laugh a little, her eyes widening when it sounded- she’d tried to suppress it.

Aysel: The shy smile tugged more and became a full fledged grin.

“I suppose what it all comes down to is happiness for everyone involved. Zakar likes you, I can tell. And I think you like him more and more. I will not intrude on your relationship with him. You do not have to worry about him cancelling dates or leaving in the middle of the night to be with me. All I ask is that you understand that if there is a dire emergency and he comes running, you give him leeway and try not to get too mad over it.”

Kleopatra: ”Yes. Happiness for ev--” Kleo blinked. Aysel had just sprung that on her- that Zakar liked her, and it was immediately obvious in the way she fidgeted that she liked hearing it. “Uhhh...Happiness. For everyone. That’s definitely good.” She nodded, failing at covering up her slip. “I wouldn’t hold it against him. I think everyone has someone or several someones in their life who they’d drop everything for, I know I do, so I can understand. And if I--” She halted there. Aysel did not want to hear what she’d been about to say, she could almost guarantee that. If she could blush, she probably would have,

Aysel: “And if you what?” She asked, it was the one slip she didn’t ignore, her head tilting in curiosity. “Please, finish your sentence.”

Kleopatra: Kleo bit her lip, a bit embarrassed. She could make up something and claim it was what she’d been about to say, but she wasn’t the lying type, and especially not about thoughts or feelings. “I was just gonna say that uh...If I did get mad over it, I could...think of some ways for him to get back into my good graces...A joke…” she looked at the woman apologetically.

Aysel: Her smile faltered only slightly and she managed to even chuckle a little. “So, now that that is out of the way…” She said with an encouraging smile.

Kleopatra: ”Yes!” Kleo jumped at moving on past her suggestive comment. “Now that’s outta the way...How have you been, tonight, in general?” Kleo had only ever been around the woman a handful of times, and never for too long, save for the current conversation. Maybe a little late, Kleo finally sat down on the stool her hip had been brushing against as long as she’d been standing there.

Aysel: “Tonight? I have been well. Just working. It is nice to come here and just get away from it all.” She didn’t mention that she had been downright depressed since her return from Saudi Arabia. She wouldn’t burden the woman with that.

Kleopatra: ”I know how that is. I have a job, too. I’m working tomorrow- there’s a bridal fashion show. Should be...interestin.” Most of the dresses at Enchanted weren’t Kleo’s style, though she could recognize that they were beautiful, and that many women looked beautiful in them. She definitely wouldn’t put on a ballgown, and generally only wore dresses to special events or to clubs. Dresses she liked were seldom made of any substantial amount of material and weren’t very fussy. Her attire that night was a perfect example. “No plans for when you’re off?”

Aysel: She shook her head and smiled. “I will go over the books once I close the doors. Then perhaps a ten mile run before returning home to do a bit of computer work until the sun rises. Maybe read if I have some time.”

She lived a very simple life. She didn’t have many friends before she had been turned, and she had only a few after the fact. And that number had recently, drastically, decreased. “What about you? Plans for the night?”

Kleopatra: ”I did my running earlier in the evening.” Kleo grinned- she rain almost daily, and only skipped it if she was training endlessly, or something with higher priority arose. “Do you like to change up your route?” She was curious. Some people liked patterns when it came to running (until the plateau that is) while others never wanted to run the same path twice if it could be helped. She was more in line with the latter example. “And nope, no plans for me. Whenever I decide to leave from here I’m goin home, turnin on my Netflix and probably drinkin a bottle of red on my own.” A soft laugh left her. “If somethin comes up, great, and if not, that’s fine too.”

Aysel: “I think it depends on my mood, really. Some nights I run the same ten mile route, others I deviate. It really all depends. If the night has been truly hectic I run the same route because the familiarity is relaxing.”

She fixed Kleo another drink and grinned at her. “Though I am thinking of taking some ballet lessons. Perhaps I am too old, or too tall to learn but I plan to try.”

Kleopatra: ”That makes sense!” Kleo in contrast, loved the variety and changing up her route a bit each time fed into her curious nature.

When Aysel spoke about dance, she leaned into the counter and her interest in the subject was evident. “I’m good after this drink.” She winked- she’d had way more than enough, and wanted to leave room for her selection at home. “And there’s no such thing as bein too old to too tall to learn ballet. Work with what you have, and be happy with tryin your best. Trust me, you’ve got plenty of time to work at it.” Try forever. “I dabbled in ballet, as it was a requirement. It wasn’t bad at all, but I prefer other forms of dance, for myself...How do you plan on learnin?”

Aysel: “A requirement of what?” She asked curiously, refreshing her Sprite and lime juice. “I know belly dance and ballroom but that is it, really.” She sipped from her drink and looked thoughtful. “I was thinking private lessons. I know there are plenty of studios in the city.”

Kleopatra: ”Dance classes, when I was younger. Ballet is foundational to many other types of dance- good for form, technique, balance and whatnot. And...I bellydance!” She waggled her brows playfully. “Mom taught me. Granted, bellydancin isn’t really that acceptable in Egypt, but...this ain’t Egypt, is it? I like it a lot- probably the reason I have such a strong core.” Kleo teased. “I know of a couple studios around town.”

Aysel: “I would think it more acceptable in Egypt rather than Turkey. But all I think matters is that it is fun. Forbidden, but fun.” She chuckled softly. “Does Karina Docere run a studio? I thought she did. I was thinking of asking her.”

Kleopatra: ”Forbidden but fun is a good way of puttin it...in fact, lotsa things that are forbidden are fun.” Kleo grinned, then pursed her lips tightly as she thought on Aysel’s question. The name was familiar, but she didn’t know a thing about what kind of business Karina did or didn’t own. “I’m not sure who owns what. I know there’s Essari and Tippy Toes, though I think the latter is a company so I’m doubtful about if they’d give lessons.”

Aysel: She sighed and smiled. “Well, I think I will ask Karina. I do not want to take public lessons. I already cannot dance well, these modern dances. Perhaps this will be more my style given my height.” She turned her wrist slightly and checked her watch. This time the sigh was one of slight frustration. “Delivery is coming, and I have to take care of that.”

She looked at the other woman and a genuine smile curved her lips.

“It was really wonderful to see you again. I am glad you came here, and I am really glad we had a chance to talk.”

Kleopatra: ”You should definitely do that. Dance is both a great workout, and a way to express yourself. That’s what I like most about it.” She saw the change in Aysel’s facial features when she checked her watch, and felt a little guilty for holding the woman up so long. The worry that she’d caused her issue vanished though, as Aysel gave a bright smile which Kleo quickly returned.

“It was nice seein you too, Aysel. Thanks for answerin my questions, and I have no doubt that I’ll be seein you again, soon! I’m gonna finish this up then head out.” Kleo raised the last drink that’d been made for her and took a swig.

Aysel: She nodded and reached out to clasp the woman’s hand in a gentle squeeze. Her version of a hug before she pulled away. “Come back any time, Kleo. Be safe out there.” She bowed her head slightly and hurried off, just as her superior hearing picked up the soft chime of a bell, signaling a delivery at the back door.

Kleopatra: Kleo met Aysel’s hand with one of her own, giving a soft pressure in response.”I will, I promise.” She grinned, then tipped her head back to drain her glass. She blotted at her lips with a cocktail napkin, then balled the paper up in a fist. Slipping off of the stool she was perched on, Kleo gave a final glance in Aysel’s direction as the woman retreated, then headed for the exit, dropping her bloody napkin into a trashcan along the way.

The cool night air felt good on Kleo’s skin and blowing through her hair, as she stepped out of the club. She paused there for a moment, then headed for the Gullsborough transit, going home.