Path of the Vampire forum

Snow White was certainly no blonde, but that wasn't exactly how she had come by such an alias either. As soon as she set foot inside that bar it seemed like all eyes were upon her. It was a momentary discomfort; the patrons returned to their conversations, the bartender slid a few glasses down the gloss of the counter. Those were the little moments that would always remind her that she was in fact different from other people, even if most people pretended that they didn't even notice.

Neverminding the bit of high school throwback, she made her way to the center-most stool of the bar and climbed up into the seat more like a kid than anything else. It was certainly a behavior that piqued suspicion in the bartender's mind. Could someone with such a youthful complexion and childlike demeanor really be old enough to purchase alcohol?

So there it was. Just as she promised. Soul was sitting there in the middle of the bar, hair pinned under her beanie with little butterfly barrettes whose wings tried to peek out from the charcoal fabric now and then. . Something about her mustard leggings didn't seem very wintry at all, out of place amongst the plethora of oxblood, royal blues, and hunter greens that seemed to sweep the women's fashion market this season. Nevertheless, they were a true match for the bold red toms that adorned her feet and the calming blue of that shoulder-puffed shirt she wore. Snow White, modern day.

Delicate fingers pulled a few feral strands of hair behind her shoulder, trying to tuck it back inside her cap.

"Excuse me, miss?" One dirt-ridden hand slapped down against the counter before her the only warning she had of the immediate weight that followed at her back. She froze as an older man's face came into view entirely too close to her own. "You even old enough for me to ask about buying you a drink? Look a little underage."

"I'm old enough. I have identification. So you don't have to worry about me, sir."

"I dunno...Let me see it."

His breath was rank with alcohol, teeth looking as if they'd not seen the bristles of a brush in far too many moons. Deciding it better to avoid exchanging more words with the stranger, the tiny Russian girl pushed herself off the bar stool and made a hesitant line toward the door. It would be rude of her to leave when she was expected here. Maybe she'd get lucky and the man inside would give up, thinking she had run back home to her mommy, instead of following her out. If that were the case, she'd wait in the cold for her mysterious online friend. Hopefully, he'd come soon.

Patrick was able to find this bar easily enough. There had in fact been a lot of talk about this place. It seemed to be what most people were talking about now. He Stood out front for a moment as he finished up his cigarette. This looked more like a biker bar then anything. It wasn’t what he had in mind when he said he wanted a place to drink but till he found a place more to his liking this would do. Hopefully they would at least have strong alcohol or at least good liquor.

The cherry of his cigarette glowed brightly in dark as he took one last drag before flicking it off into the cold snowy night air. A cloud of smoke slowly leaves his lips has as he pulled his hood fully up onto his head and makes sure his bag is up on his shoulder before he makes his way across the street and to the bar. He kept his eyes open on those around as reached the door and opened it.

Some bumped into him as he opens the door. He looks down at the white hair before taking a step back. “Sorry bout that.” He then looked at the woman more carefully. His eyes moving up and down her small frame. If this was in fact the woman that wanted to meet with him, she had, in fact, earned the nickname. It worked with her being the color of the snow and the outfit she was wearing. He smirked as a breath left him “Snow white you are indeed.”

Then the thought hit him, much as she herself had. “You wasn’t going to leave me to drink by myself where you?” In truth it didn’t much matter if he drank with someone or not. It was just better to have someone around to talk. People didn’t think you were just a drunk, even though that’s what he was if he admitted it to himself, if you had someone else with you drinking.

Soul blinked, not having expected anyone to be in the way of the door. Little had she known. "Oh no, it's my fault. I'm so sorry."


Blinking, she looked the stranger over, hoping she hadn't made too terrible a first impression. Even if she had, it was nothing new to her. But the fact that this was someone she had meant to meet, possibly make a friend out of...it was a bit more important than normal. There was no telling just what kind of man he was underneath it all, the only way to find out being to stick to the original plan and spend time with him. The thought of going back inside, however, made her stomach unsettle.

While it was more likely than not that the old drunkard who had approached her before would have already entertained himself with some new thing, there was still that slight chance that he would come around to bother her some more. This time she wouldn't be alone, but in that same breath, she hardly wanted to give off the impression that she was some damsel in need of saving, a little girl who had to run to her knight in shining armor.

A little sigh left her lips as they parted in a sweet smile. "Not at all. I just needed to get a breath of fresh air while I waited." Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth before a hand thrust forward in greeting. "I'm Soul." Another sweet little grin, head bobbing happily. "I'm glad you made it, ...uh...What should I call you?"

This one was odd little thing. “Bishop.” He said taking her hand and shaking it. She seemed to be either nervous or just a really happy person to be meeting a total stranger in a strange bar in the night. “What do you say we go sit down and get some drinks and mayhaps some food.” His Irish accent in all glory was on display.

He pushed his hood back down as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked around the inside of the bar. There was something he didn’t like about this bar, it was the same feeling he had about most places in this city. The only place he didn’t get this feeling anymore was the church he made sure to visit daily for prayer and blessing.

He held out a hand as he found a booth that looked empty. “Ladies first.” He gave her smile. He was going to try and be on his best behavior tonight. He had just prayed for someone to help him and for all he knew she could be the one that God was sending his was or at least she might be able to show her in the right direction.

"Bishop..." She allowed the name to roll over and under her tongue, tasting the way it vibrated against her vocal chords, sounding somewhat less powerful wrapped up in her stark accent. Images of men in gold and white robes, holding specters and books, guiding millions of people with outdated verbiage filled her mind. For all she knew it very well had something to do with the Catholics church. Then again, her she was with an alias all her own. Why did he have to be so different?

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you."

Soul turned around, shorter than the man behind her, and stood there for everyone to see yet again. Her eyes searched the bar, danced over each patron's face, noting the build of those she couldn't make eye contact with. Much to her relief, the gruff stranger from before wasn't in sight. She wondered if he'd be back from the bathroom when she least expected it, throwing his arm around her neck to sink her into her seat all while continuing to be pushy about her age and drinks and innuendos she certainly was not in the mood for.

The empty booth was taken note of, and in the same manner that people were staring the first time, they also didn't seem to be nearly as surprised. That was well enough for her as she made her way into the booth, taking the side where her back was to the door. Cotton leggings gliding over the slick vinyl, she ended up all the way against the wall with a quiet huff. If Bishop didn't like this bar, then it certainly made for two of them.

"Alright. You wanted to drink, preferably something strong, until your brain was immensely fuzzy, right?" She grinned, giving the bar a glance over her shoulder in an effort to scope out the vodka selections. Going the expected route for any dainty girl didn't seem like such a bad idea right now. "Well whatever you decide to get, my mind is already settled. A White Russian it is." Instantly her nose crinkled, noting the eerie coincidence. Nothing would be said about it, however, unless her companion for the night thought it worthy to speak of.