Preparing for the Worst [Open]

[Lancaster]

[OOC: Backdated to the 2nd of December]

Elliot was sitting behind the computer, checking his emails and paying the bills – approving the banking and making sure the pays went through for all of his staff, across all four businesses. It was a tedious job, and it always took him half a night. It was almost like taxes, except he’d never had to deal with taxes much. Backpacking had its perks, one of which was the feeling of being completely free and unchained to any kind of Government institution. Such was not the case now, however, and this job – like taxes – was a necessity. A lot of the time he ended up with dishevelled hair and a frown seared into his brow. He would wait for a distraction to come along and he would pounce on it.

When his phone buzzed and danced a smidge across the desk, he snatched it up and read the message. At first he rolled his eyes and scoffed. Things couldn’t have been better between himself and Pi recently. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the ring glinting, still new and fresh, on his finger. The finger where Wedding rings are normally worn. No, they hadn’t actually done the deed – but the rings were a traditional security. Something to mark each other as taken and completely out of bounds for anyone else. Elliot liked to think that Pi would never hurt Skylar.

But it took only a few seconds for him to remember the few altercations that had already taken place – on the Crow, and in Lancaster’s while the Auction was taking place. For some reason, when it came to Elliot Lancaster, Pi was unreasonable. And although Elliot would hope that since then, since their discussions about it, her reason might have grown a little. But could he really trust it? After that **** Michael threatened to tell her that Skylar and Elliot had their hands all over each other – basically threatened to lie to her – Elliot couldn’t be too sure what her reaction would be.

It didn’t take him long to stand up and pull on the nearest jacket; he was otherwise wearing his usual button-up tee which was a sort of bluish grey, and a pair of dark denim jeans. On his feet were black leather shoes, heavily scuffed. He often wears the same things over and over again, and doesn’t particularly relish shopping for new clothes.

Fifteen minutes later he found himself wandering past the Casino. He almost expected there to be blood painting the streets already, but all was calm. As calm as it could be, anyway. He continued to wander down the street until he found himself sitting just inside the Riverview Café, a steaming long black cradled in his long fingers. He had his phone clutched in the other hand, his bright-blues steadfast on the street outside.

Generally, Elliot Lancaster d’Artois was far more anxious than he would admit to himself.

[Wearing]

[Temperance Avila]

Temperance considered Gullsbough her ‘old neighborhood’. It was there where she first moved into the Alpha Tower apartment complex. She was delighted that the location had convenient businesses in walking distance, as she did not own a car. She did not often return to her apartment here as most value of her time was spent between her families large estate, The Metronome Club, or Angela's place in Ivy. The mission that brought her to the apartment was the cold. Having several places to stay meant she did not always have to lug her things from home to home. Rather go back to the right one if she needed something. The brunette sorted through the front closet until she found her favorite black coat. It was the warmest and lightest to have on while holiday shopping. The allurist never favored the cold. She relished the feel of warmth upon her skin as often as necessary. To her, it was something that just made her feel less-dead. Also, another way to blend in with the hustle and bustle of hot-aired shoppers flooding the stores. If she was to go out and join them, be like them.

Down the elevator of her apartment and out the front door, Temperance turned right towards the river, passing the casino and shops. The bank was near them both. She was a proud owner of a credit card, but there were some steals the charismatic women could walk away with when holding a fresh pile of green dollars. Inside, the line was quite long. This was the downside to visiting the banks for a good amount of cash. Had they only invested in online methods of transfers she’d not have to wait as long. The women didn’t want to be on her feet all afternoon so she decided to wait out the crowd and step into the Riverview Café for a hot dark chocolate.

It had been some time since she stopped into this particular café, perhaps a year or more. She found the atmosphere and their wide window overlooking the stream quite pleasing. She unfastened a few buttons on her cold weather coat and removed her hat once inside. She wore a simple black collared coat with hidden buttons; sequins that rimmed her skirt shimmered lowly in the surrounding light. Black tights with a slight sheen kept her warm from winters wind and her heels were most comfortable even for walking.

The counter was not near as busy as the bank. Everyone must be in there, she thought. It did not take long for the personnel to make her order. She received her drink and turned toward the open room. She had not noticed a familiar dark-haired man in the window seat. Something about him beckoned her near. It was not the way he positioned himself although the tightness of his knuckles around the phone signaled he may be waiting on someone or perhaps expecting a call.

Not wanting to pry but curious, she stepped over to glance out the same window he was fixed upon. After a short moment she glanced to the man, ”Excuse me, I know you, don’t I?” Temperance paused to adjust the warm cup in her hand. In that moment she did not perform any tricks nor attempt to reach out to his mind with her learned traits. She was opposed to violating the personal space of someone else without good reason. She sifted back into her memory, back to SoA, and then it clicked. ”I do, Elliot. Is that Correct?”

She remembered they had met briefly when he joined the academy, it had been sometime. Though the familiarity of his own business in town kept him in mind rather tossed aside like some human for dinner. Not all who have access to her thriving community would make an everyday appearance. Some stopped in on occasion for a book or two quite like a library with open doors. Others found the place closer like a family home. Whatever the state it never bothered Temperance, so long as the lights were still on.

Outfit

[Lancaster]

For all of his restlessness, Elliot didn’t find it hard to still. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t restless; he was always restless. Some might call him a workaholic. And when he wasn’t at one of his shops, or at the pub, or on the boat, he was writing music. And if he wasn’t writing music, he was on the stage performing it. And if he wasn’t doing that, he was down in the sewers, or in the caverns, venting some of that pent up violence that he tried to deny he had within himself. God forbid the day that he was ever questioned about it, because he would not be able to lie – to himself or to anyone else. Sometimes the answers he gave to things surprised him. Sometimes, the inability to lie went far below the surface, tapping into things that even Elliot didn’t recognise.

So although he might look still and calm, he was not. The knee of his right leg bounced, unbeknownst to him. The nails on his fingers clinked against the glass that he’d been given, the dark coffee still steaming inside. The knee kept a steady beat, whereas the clink of nails was slightly different. Melodic, even, though there was no variation of tone. He stared out of the window and watched everyone that passed by, waiting to see either Pi or Skylar. The phone in his other hand hadn’t made a noise.

The musician was completely lost in his thoughts when a voice intruded his space. Well, not intruded, really. That would imply that Elliot was a private kind of being, and he just wasn’t. Never really had been. He glanced sideways and up at the woman who’d approached; her eyes were large and round, and her demeanour was of a put-together kind of person.

It seemed weird to Elliot that he had been in this city so long that he could have met people, and that it was so long in between seeing them again that he could almost forget them. Never had he stayed anywhere as long as this, not since he was eighteen years old. He had to reach back into his memory, had to attach those features to a name. And a place. Yes, he knew this woman. Temperance. It was a name hard to forget.

”Yeah,” he said. ”Though a lot of people still call me Lancaster,” he said, Australian accent still thick regardless of his time spent away from home. He adjusted himself. Sat up, turned to face the woman as good manners should dictate. He even offered a smile – a genuine smile, because one of those were never far away.

”Temperance, right? How’ve you been?” he asked, gesturing to the seat beside him. She could sit, if she wanted to. If she was in no rush to go anywhere. If this was not just a meeting in passing. He kept his grip firm upon his phone; he knew, deep down, that the distraction would be welcome. That there was nothing he could do but sit and wait, anyway – because to go into the Casino was out of the question.

[Temperance Avila]

She inclined her head slightly. “Thank you, kindly.” Her warm cup of chocolate placed to the table before slipping into the gestured spot. The women adored his invitation. Temperance found it extremely interesting to speak with others. There was something about the connection that triggered an electrical pulse through every nerve. She was not the type to pass up such an occasion, even if it meant running a few minutes behind to a scheduled meet. It was not to say she purposely ran late for things but she felt it right to not ignore company. She lived by a limited set of rules, one of them being not to turn away a rare opportunity as it may never happen again. Of course in this life, it was bound to happen again, but why tempt fate. Today, she was in no hurry so she sat calmly for a second or two. Crystal orbs lingered from her steaming cup to Lancaster’s bright expression. Her own thin fingers stealing the warmth from the mug.

”Temperance indeed. Many call me Tempy.” A grinned formed to the corners of her cheek. ”I am well. I’ve found myself in tune to the walls of the academy and The Metronome. As we recently remodeled. How does your establishment do on the far side of town? It has been some time since the move, you must have regulars filling up the seats.” Her tone was lighthearted. She often asked about business. In honest it was not to pry, but curious how others were faring and she knew it were common ground for the two.

She felt conversation starters could tell just how this was going to work. Rather than come right out and inquire about the tension she first noticed. That would be impolite and private. She would work her way to it if necessary and was not implied, but first this would help her gauge the type of person Elliot was. She was not very well diverse in all subjects, but seemed to know a decent amount of things to continue conversation or so she thought.

Heat from the cup blushed her nose as she brought it forward for a sip. Rich flavors danced upon her tongue soothing her chilled throat. It was her second favorite drink next to tea, than Captain’s Punch if she was in a party mood.

[Lancaster]

Elliot forced himself to put the phone down. It was common knowledge that using phones in the middle of social meetings was rude, and most of the time Elliot didn’t even have the thing on him. Most of the time, his phone would be left at home by accident, or it would be tucked away in his pocket or bag and completely forgotten about. He might hear it or feel it vibrate but he would never be rude to company in order to check it. The only time he would was if it was insistent; if the calls kept coming, or the texts. If someone was desperate to get a hold of him. Which was… well, rare. Once in a blue moon type thing.

So he put it down, face down, and pushed it to the side. He nodded, as Temperance inquired after his business.

”Business is good. It does better where it is. I think it suits the suburb more. Before, we had too much of the riff raff from the Necropolis and it didn’t really suit the atmosphere,” he said. He much preferred the new location, and the new customers that came with it. There was a good mix of the hardened street rats, the students, and those just looking to have a good time. He didn’t like to think that he advertised to a particular demographic, but he supposed when one ran an Irish themed pub, the demographic couldn’t be helped.

”How long has it been? It’s been a while. I run a few other businesses, now. Too,” he said. Was he speaking too fast? He lifted the coffee to his lips to take a slow, meandering mouthful. The caffeine didn’t really hit his bloodstream. It didn’t do much to revive him. But he liked the strong, bitter taste of it on his tongue; he loved the smell of it. Taste was not the same without smell, and vice versa. His eyes narrowed just slightly as he tried to recall past conversations with Temperance. In the end, he had to laugh and shake his head.

”I’m so sorry, and you’ll probably think me really rude, but I know I know you, obviously, but I can’t really remember much else besides your name…” he said. It was better manners to admit to it than to pretend, right?

[Temperance Avila]

She canted her head slightly right, letting left elbow rest to her lap as shoulders stood tall, listening attentively. Co-owning a partial business herself, she understood what he meant by the neighborhood scene. As it were, The Metronome was purchased by Crissy and Temperance several years ago. The location was suburb, across the street from the train station, next door to a casino which drew in those wanting to drown their sorrows in music, close relation to apartments, bank, and neighborhood shop. Though it also attracted the lesser kind, a bit of bloodshed from time to time with thieves thinking they can run the place. She shared similar interest with his mention of the Gothic nightclub. ”You know, I’ve been in there only a few times and each one I was left with a strange vibe.”

”No such worry of being rude, dear. I assure you, Elliot, you are far from it.” A pink grin peered out over her mug as she pulled the drink in close for another sip then rested it to the table without a sound. She felt comfort in the fact that he had placed his phone aside. Perhaps what grip he had was not so bothersome after all, perhaps even anxious or awaiting good news. People had interesting stories to tell in their composure. She found it fascinating. The brunette often observed a lot. She felt words only had meaning if the motions behind them were in the same context. She preferred in person meets rather than lengthy phone conversations for those reasons.

Now what was Temperance to start with for an introduction. She did not always find it easy to start a conversation with herself. Some deep nature felt as though it were boasting, however, few had reminded her in the past it is how and what you say. ” Let’s see…” She took a drink in that pause. ”I’m known more commonly as someone who performs and owns The Metronome Club in Wicksbridge. To a more discreet crowd,” Meaning vampires ” I am headmistress of Society of Allurists Academy, where every allurist or those wanting to learn those abilities have a place to gather.” The words were easier now. ”Both keep my schedule pretty tight, however in the silence of my home or often cafe’s like this, I brush up on computer skills. I rather like tiptoeing into the systems to see how they work. I feel it is a harmless facet.” She was rambling, she often did when she was comfortable and blessed (or cursed) by the fact she couldn't bare to lie to someone else. It was just not ethical to do so. Fingers quickly grasped the mug for a slow drink.

”What keeps you awake at night?”

[Lancaster]

Elliot’s mouth drops open as he recognises, now, how and why he knows Temperance. He thinks. It isn’t to do with the Metronome, not really, though he had visited the place often before he went into business himself. No, he recognised the name more through the Society of Allurists. A Society to which he himself belonged; but as soon as she mentioned it, his face twisted into a grimace of guilt. He was lazy, and though he had access to the main forum by which the Society communicated, he didn’t visit it much, ever. The guilt weighed heavily upon his mind; he didn’t mention it to Temperance, but he vowed to himself that he would try to be a little more active. Get to know a few of the members. Be a help, somehow, to the vampiric society.

Maybe he just wanted to deny that there was anything new to learn. To become that kind of a mentor meant that he was definitely a vampire. That there was no turning back. But maybe it would be a good thing. There were others who might not like this thing that they had become, and maybe they’d like someone with whom they could lament. Maybe it’ll help, to be of some kind of service to them.

Elliot laughed at the question Temperance asked.

”What keeps me awake at night?” he asked, and glanced around. ”Probably the fact that I have to sleep all day, whether I want to or not, keeps me awake at night,” he said. It was probably meant as a metaphorical kind of question. When something keeps someone awake at night it normally meant that they had something on their mind. Anxieties, stress. Even things that they were excited about. Maybe it was a blessing that he passed out without any kind of rhyme or reason. Even if there was some kind of life or death situation looming over his head, it was something that he could not help or escape. In the end, regardless, nothing kept him awake when he should be sleeping. At least he was never tired.

Elliot, too, took another mouthful of his drink, before he gestured out the window.

”If I were a normal functioning person, though, the fact that my other half, who is a severely jealous type, is meeting with my newest female progeny is cause for tension,” he said with a laugh.

[Temperance Avila]

A light giggle escaped her lips as he answered the play on words quite literally. She responded while he took to drink. ”Interesting how we surrender to the day. I remember a time, vaguely now, but a time when I forced my eyes to remain open until the warm sun woke and peered over the horizon. Vivid colors played with the morning dew, it was simply an amazing site that if I was able to stand there and let those beams wash over me today without such excruciating pain, I’d do so. Sometimes I try than dart inside to miss the show, though I have been caught off guard a few and lightness of my eyes and skin burn in such searing agony. Suppose it is good your body puts you to rest.”

”Normalcy is not something I hear often these days.” She fidgeted in her seat a moment. She had tried to be normal. She walked away and tried to push this body of plagued restrictions to its limit and paid close to death for it. Normal was a lot of things, she held such into tender parts of her heart. The act to be normal saddened her. Even as her way of living as a vampire had a significant leap above others; blend into a human crowd-which meant doing normal things. This at times made her happy, however she felt forever on guard and never completely relaxed. The only time she really was relaxed would be in the bright lights of the stage or in front of the fire with Angela. ”Is that what had you holding your phone so tightly?” She asked as a finger pointed to the object on the table. ”Merely an observation,” she explained. ”I suppose if you were normal, the situation would not exist, save for if you were the type to have a mistress.” She meant the statement in light of a human life and no offense towards their allurist path. She herself was opposed to those who abused their charm and preferred others not to seem them that way. ”I hope for you that the tension is merely nerves and not exactly what will happen. Would you like another drink?”

[Lancaster]

Elliot leaned his elbow on the table, his head finally coming to rest in his palm. His focus remained solely upon Temperance. The woman had a way with words, and Elliot was enjoying listening to them. They at least distracted him from thinking about what was going on between Pi and Skylar—if anything at all. He’d feel like a bit of a fool if they came out of that place as the best of friends. He laughed, first, and then he frowned.

”Lucky yes, but not at the same time. I mean, imagine if I got stuck somewhere and the sun was coming up and I couldn’t do anything to get out. And then BAM!” he slammed one hand down against his phone, with enough force to rattle the spoon on the plate where his coffee sat but not enough force to dislodge or break anything. ”Down. Dead to the world. Asleep. And then burned entirely to a crisp,” he said. It was amusing now. Amusing until it happened. Though, he had been burned by the sun in the past and had lived to tell the tale. Had seen others live to tell the tale, too. As with all their wounds these days, it seemed they would heal, sooner or later. So what did it matter, really?

Despite all Elliot’s woes and anxieties, deep down he remained the unwavering optimist. Nothing was ever too bad. Nothing could not be overcome. Physical wounds would always heal. It was the mental wounds one had to be wary of. One such wound itched now.

”Unlucky, in that I can’t even enjoy as much as you can. I can’t risk it. Not the slightest bit of warmth from the sun, ever again, for as long as I live. I’d pass out before I even got the barest hint of it,” he said, his tone sad and his eyes even sadder. But he rallied, as he always rallied. He drew in a harsh breath and nodded.

”But I can enjoy coffee! So yes, hit me up. Another one,” he said, figuring he could talk this woman’s ear off as soon as they were settled with their drinks. Could tell her all about Pi’s irrational jealousy; about his own irrational jealousy. About Skylar’s tendency to hug, and how hugs were apparently things that were out of bounds. It had been a while since Lancaster had enjoyed a deep and meaningful with a relative stranger; and they were the best kinds of conversations, in his opinion. Idle chit-chat was a waste of time.

[Temperance Avila]

”Indeed that would be horrific!” She nearly shouted back. A palm quickly came up to meet her lips, she looked around the room at a few gawkers after the sudden outburst. Although she could not tell what words ran through their minds, she gave them a perfectly human bright smile and shrugged her shoulders. Fingers relaxed to the surface of the table for a moment or two. She was beginning to care for him now. Not in the sense of caring for the sick or falling in adoration, but a genuine interest of his person. She felt bad for not having the opportunity to speak with him at this level sooner. She leaned over the table a bit to say, ”Elliot, I’m sorry to hear such. That would be quite tragic, a waste to see such a thing happen to someone like you.”

With his acceptance of another drink she rose from her seat. Again, the gawkers looming as if they were conspiring against them. Prodding for a bit of juicy conversation. ”How do you take your coffee?”

A simple nod of her head and she had wandered off towards the front counter then stood in line behind a customer. The blonde teenager ordered what sounded to be an overly fancy cappuccino with splenda, low fat milk, no whip creme, and a cinnamon twist to go. She shook her head, ’to be a kid again.’ Had she not run into this town, Temperance would be approaching thirty-eight years of age. To tell the truth some days she felt seventeen and others thirty-two. She knew it was not coffee making the fine lines in her hands, but stress and slow age shiny through. Temperance stared off at the menu boards until it was her turn to order, pay, and collect the drinks. She started to feel bad for letting Elliot sit so long, though perhaps the break was good.

”Okay,” Temperance grinned placing the mug in front of Elliot. ”Here you go. I’m afraid this would be my last drink, I have a few errands to run before the night is through.” She slipped into the seat across from him.