Path of the Vampire forum

Entering Quartermaine’s, Doc really wasn’t sure what he wanted to get for Cytherea. It had been their two year anniversary recently and although he had gotten her a bracelet, it was more utilitarian than a true gift. He needed .. no, he wanted to get her something she would like, and not associate with a need. Plus she had just turned 30. Did females acknowledge their 30th birthdays? He had been around enough nurses to know that most of them didn’t. But what about Cytherea? She was frozen in time at age 28. Did she even care? Or was it something more built in than that? He had no ******* clue. He would never understand females.

So Doc aimlessly wandered about the store, waiting for inspiration to hit him. Or for his eye to catch sight of that perfect object. He stopped by the jewelry case. Most females loved jewelry, Cytherea was no exception. But Doc had yet to find that perfect piece of jewelry that she loved and wore all the time. When a woman wore the jewelry all the time, that’s when you know you struck gold. He had not found that piece yet.

Doc was studying each piece of jewelry in the case, when the soft piped in music came to a screeching scratching halt. Dead air filled the store. Doc looked up from the case, and glanced around the store. The store was empty save one other person, a brunette. His gaze naturally stopped on the only other person in sight, just as the music resumed. Music of an unusual nature..

Dhara had been out and about wandering from shop to shop. She wasn't a fan of spending money, but she enjoyed looking nonetheless. Quartermaine's wasn't a shop she had been in before, so when she pulled open the door and slipped inside, she paused in the door to gain her bearings. There was one other person in the shop, and he looked vaguely familiar. She mulled over the fact that she had seen him before as she began a slow tour of the shop.

She watched the man out of the corner of one eye, tucking her white hair behind her ears. She took a moment to ponder the black streak, deciding then and there she would change the color. She'd been mourning her loss long enough and had resigned to the fact that things weren't going to change. She'd just pushed the wide black streak behind her ear when the music in the shop stopped. The tiny woman looked up at the hidden speakers curiously, but the music resumed shortly and she shrugged slightly. Amber eyes found the lone occupant in the store, realizing he was staring at her, she gave a nervous little smile and looked away, moving towards a sign that advertised evening art classes. Perhaps this would help fill the time left by quitting one of her jobs.

As the female smiled at him, Doc felt something. It was hard to say what it was really. If he wasn’t a physician well versed in the human body’s functions, he would have said he was having a case of gas.. or maybe nerves. But then even that wasn’t right. He had no reason to be nervous; and he had never gotten gas from drinking blood before, so he discounted that as well. And yet something was going on. He seemed inordinately drawn to her. He made his way toward the female.

It was odd, he told himself. As he got closer, he saw she wasn’t even a brunette like he thought, '**** she's a blond..' Why was he even drawn to her? She wasn’t even his type. In fact he didn’t like blonds. He liked brunettes. Dark Brunettes. He really disliked bleach bottle blonds on top of that. But, he felt like he should like her, maybe even lust after her. Yes.. he got the feeling he should want to lust after her. But she wasn’t remotely his type. It was disconcerting.

Reaching the female’s side, Doc gave her his best closed mouthed smile, which was really just a crooked smirk. “Hi.. I’m here shopping for the wife.” He said conversationally, “It was a our anniversary a month or so back. Two years. Yay me. Who knew? So.. What’s your name?” He said to her chest, “I’m Elliot..” A bold faced lie.. directed right at her breasts.

"That's lovely. Congratulations, Elliot." She murmured politely, wondering what he was staring at so intently. He was making her nervous. She crossed her arms over her stomach, peeking at him for a moment, knowing she knew his face from some where. "You're the second Elliot I've met." A useless fact that she wasn't sure why she told him. "Well you have a wonderful evening with your wife. Good luck on finding a gift."

She moved away from him yet again, hoping he'd go back to picking jewelry or art or what ever it was he was looking for. She moved in to the studio/classroom and looked around, taking in the various forms of art that were offered. Painting, ceramics, life drawing. She spied a flier on a table and moved over to take one, glancing it over before shoving it in her bag. She glanced over to 'Elliot', trying to figure out where the creepy guy was so that she could, potentially, make her escape from the shop and the unwanted attention.

Ah ****. She knows an Elliot. Chances were she knew ‘the’ Elliot. It was such a lame name, there couldn’t be another Elliot in the city. Didn’t matter really. Doc followed her, and completely ignored her comment about the wife and the present he had been meaning to get her.

“You obviously don’t see how this works.. I give you ‘my’ name.. you, in turn, give me yours.” He gives her another closed lipped smirk, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was, in a polite way, trying to avoid him. By now they were in a small art class room, alone, just the two of them, and he was between her and the door.

Doc glances over his shoulder at the door, and then looks at her again. That sly little thing lured him in here, in order to give them some alone time. He gave her a meaningful look while he waited for her name. It was still perplexing why he was so drawn to her. She was nothing like what usually got him going. She was petite, and he liked long legs on a female. She was blond, and he liked brunettes. She seemed as though she was rather meek and mild, and he liked a woman with some fight; but maybe the meek and mild was just a cover until she got him alone. Well now they were alone.

Her eyes widened slightly when he followed her in to the room and approached her. She blinked a little and try to look around him to find the doorway and calculate her chances of escape. "Dhara. My name is Dhara." she finally said, her German accent thickening slightly as her anxiety level rose. Why in the world was this creepy old guy following her around? He was probably old enough to be her father and yet here he was staring at her like she was a rare delicacy waiting to be devoured. Well that certainly wasn't going to happen.

"It was nice to meet you, Elliot. If you'll excuse me..." She moved slightly closer, and then tried to edge around him, her eyes fastened on the door, her only means of escape. "Good luck finding a gift for your wife." Maybe, just maybe, if she kept pointing out that he was married, he'd stop staring at her like she was a meal and go away.

She said “Excuse me…” as she attempted to get to the door. Doc frowned as he tried to understand what she was really saying. She was not really leaving.. was she? They had a thing, an understanding, the two of them, didn’t they? “You’re really leaving?” His voice sounding bewildered.

He was confused. He felt this urge, the pull.. this .. need to be with her, but she was trying to get away. Trying to get away from Him. Part of him told him, she was just playing hard to get. And He should just go ahead and take her. But the cautious side of him warred with that reaction.

Conflicted didn’t even begin to describe the amount of confusion he felt. She was getting away, and he felt terrified that if she left, he would never see her again. And the feelings that, those thoughts produced were like something he had never felt before, and did not have the first idea about how to describe.

Doc wanted to act, to stop her. To make her stay with him, But his logical side, told him, ‘you are in a public store, all she has to do is scream and lie. And then you are up a creek.’ He tried rationalizing things. Maybe she wanted him to follow her… out of the store, to her place. Right. That did make more sense.

"Yes, I'm really leaving." She was baffled by his question. Why wouldn't she leave? The man was a total stranger and yet he was acting as if this was a modern day Romeo and Juliet, and she was Juliet. She gave a small shake of her head and practically bolted to the door that lead to the main shop. "Have a wonderful evening... Elliot." She hesitated before saying his name. For some reason, he just didn't seem like an Elliot to her.

As she made it to the main shop, she breathed a sigh of relief to be in a more open space. She looked around for a store employee, some one else she could talk to that would maybe make the man stay away from her. But there was no one. She wasn't sure where the clerk was, but she decided not to wait around and find out. She glanced over her shoulder and slipped out the door, causing the bell to jingle. She leaned against the wall and let out a slow breath. She had escaped from the single strangest encounter she'd ever had in this city.