Path of the Vampire forum

The following roleplay is Backdated to Valentine's Day

Doc: It was your normal every day holiday designed to make you,... and by ‘you’ any male ever born… spend money. Doc rolled his eyes. Yes, he would do what was expected of him, and buy gifts for all the women in his life. Why? Why fall prey to the commercialization of a holiday with no ******* merit? Because in the big scheme of things, females liked presents. And the more females that thought him, not a depraved excuse for a man, the better. It helped his ego. That and the fact, it was easier to shut them the **** up.. if you gave them ****. Especially shiny expensive ****. There was also the added bonus, that it made the ‘real’ men in the females’ lives to suffer. Yea, it amused to him to see others fucked over. Why? Because then it wasn’t always him.

So on a Sunday Valentines night, Doc found himself at the Voodoo Lounge practicing his drinking. By rights he should head home, and give the Ball and Chain the gift she expected. But for the moment, he just couldn’t face it. It had been a long ******* week. New staff to train. New staff to train.. and lie to… effectively, so they didn’t suspect him of being a vampire. Two years ago, that had not even been a consideration of his, but now? **** yes. Humans were highly suspicious and curious in the natural scheme of things. It wouldn't take much for an educated person to make the leap in today’s era of ‘the paranormal is real!’ tabloid news. Curiosity was too prevalent.

RicI know what day it is. Or what night, rather. And I’m not celebrating it. Not unless I get to do my own massacre-then that’s a completely different story. Instead, I’m doing my usual hunting for blood thieves because I know that a couple of them have these relics that keep blood on them. They use them for when they get vampire blood in their system. Keeps the blood lasting longer-forever even. Or so the theory and rumors go. I don’t actually know because I’ve never had one, never even seen one.

I don’t do Hallmark holidays and I know that’s going to land me in the dog house with my wife. I care-but at the same time, would she like it if I only gave her stuff once a year instead of the things I give her all year round? I already know the answer to that. I’m taking a night off from giving anyone anything.

I’ve hit a couple clubs and haven’t found what I’m looking for. I decide to try a new tactic. New and different locations. Blood thieves can be found anywhere and everywhere. I’m in the Gullsborough area, I just came from the Necropolis and started heading west. The temple. I avoid it. I’ve never seen a blood thief or anything or anyone in there that I care about. That I would want to kill for a relic or something else of that magnitude. The bank isn’t open, so I skip past that too and see the cafe. I’ve seen them in cafes all around the city. I go in, take a quick look around and then almost leave. Until I see something. I think I see something. I’m not actually sure because it seems irrational and out of character. I move forward and ignore everyone else and everything else going on in the cafe. “Doc.” I say with resound certainty when I get to his proximity and recognize his semi-familiar characteristics and smell. Everyone smells like something-even Doc.

Doc: Doc took a liberal swallow of the honey colored liquid from the highball glass in his right hand. Outwardly, he may look like the average bored patron absently imbibing an adult libation, but inward, Doc was having a battle of wills. That ever so innocent looking liquid was at war with his vamperic system. His facial muscles made the ever so slight grimace of distaste as he fought to keep the liquid down. It was was harder than he displayed. His body having the urge to eject the liquid violently was at war with his mental stamina willing the liquid to stay in his system. His ability to drink, if one could call it that, was far from what Cytherea or Dominique had. They drank almost any liquid and made it look easy. Meanwhile he struggled with the smallest of sips. He set the glass aside, it would be awhile before he could manage another taste.

Hearing his name, Doc turned and saw Ric. The momentary distraction caused him to falter in his concentration, causing his stomach to heave. his hands fisted as he regained control. He counted to ten and then swallowed, holding it at bay. It took him a full minute before he could trust himself to speak, and not hurl at Ric’s feet. “Ric.”

There was something about about Ric’s stance, maybe his look that made Doc realize that he was being silently judged. He knew as well as Ric that alcohol could make one inhibitions weak, and in turn put the one in drinking judgement’s at risk. “It is not what it may look like.”

Doc knew how it looked. It looked like a man drowning his problems in alcohol. He knew it looked like that, Ric knew it looked like that. They were both married to females that turned to alcohol for release. He had seen Cytherea in more than one drunken haze, and he had also witnessed Skylar at her worse for it as well. The irony was not lost on him. Both were ‘daughters’ of Elliot, and both struggled with their relationship with him. Doc was of the opinion, that it was Elliot’s blatant and obvious disgust for their choice of husbands, that exacerbated their relationship with alcohol. Doc’s own reason for drinking was far different.

Ric There were a couple of things going through my mind as I stood, staring at Doc. The first was, I didn’t know the guy could even eat or drink. The second was, I didn’t think he would subject himself to a ‘drug’ like that. Doc just didn't seem the type to me. To sit there and alter his perceptions and mental capacities. The third was, I can’t believe he’s here, getting drunk anyways. Even if he was the type and wanted to inhibit his mental facilities, he didn’t seem the type to do it in public. I know Doc. Doc was relatively cool, calm and collected. Drinking threw those all out the window for most people.

He tells me it’s not what it seems and I just nod. “Good. Because I thought I saw you sitting here drinking some booze. Must be your wife’s?” I turn to look for Cytherea, assuming he is here with her. Why wouldn’t he be? It was that stupid holiday women like to bankrupt men over. I wonder if there is a hallmark plant near here. I’d love to pour some gasoline on it and torch the place down. It’s ridiculous to me that this company is getting rich off some event that transformed in-Rome was it? Paris? Who cares. What matters is a lot of people died-which isn’t a big deal for me, but to monopolize that on a larger scale and turn the day into something it’s not is a flat out lie. I hate people and companies that lie.

“Speaking of your wife-where is she?” I ask casually, before finding a spot to Doc’s left side. I don’t know where Cyth had been sitting at, but the stool on Doc’s right was open still, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. “You buy into that ****? The whole love and romance garbage?” I ask, eyes back on the drink that’s right in front of Doc. I’m not positive I believe him yet, but Doc doesn’t appear to be the type to lie. No. Scratch that. Doc doesn’t lie. So what exactly is going on?

Doc: Doc gave Ric a grim pressed lip look, at his comment about the drink being the Ball and Chain’s. “**** you Ric.” The words seemed harsh, but it was uttered in a passive, almost affable manner. “No it is my drink.” He glanced around the lounge and lower his voice as he added, “Ever notice the people in a bar, that don’t drink?” He picked up the highball glass and swirled the liquid about before looking back Ric pointedly. “Maybe the ones that nurse a drink forever.. but never finish it? They stand out, like a beacon. Everyone notices them. Especially the bartenders.”

He could have expounded about bartenders and the details that they took in, because they were background figures. They were the ‘help’. They were mostly ignored by people doing business or looking for a quick hook up. But bartenders saw and heard things that they never let on. They also knew how to spot a cop, or someone else that was possibly looking.. or hunting for someone. There were tells. The first and major tell was the fact they don’t drink, or if they do, they don’t that much. And bartenders are usually the first ones the trackers hit up for information. And money talks. The only way to really fly under the radar, was to be overlooked by the bartender. Quiet patrons that ordered plenty of drinks, drank quietly, paid and left a normal tip, those were the patrons that were overlooked. And Doc wanted to be overlooked. But to be overlooked he had to be able to drink, and not stand out. However, that train of thought derailed when Ric asked about Cytherea.

Sighing Doc choked down another swallow of the amber liquid. Though this time it was more visible that he struggled at keeping it down. “Love? Are you ******* kidding me? Love is a construct of big business.” his voice mimicked the radio announcer commercial voice, “How do you tell the woman you ‘love’ you are the one for her? Get her the ‘Love the to Rescue Ring’ and she will be yours forever!” He dropped the fake voice, “Love can be bought by things. Yeah right.” His tone was sarcastic. “There is no such thing as love. Love is a fallacy that people buy into, to prove themselves better than others.” He tossed back the rest of his drink, and choked immediately, barely keeping it down.

Ric Doc gives me a **** you, which kind of takes me off guard. I mean, everyone has a **** you in their possession, Doc just doesn’t seem the type to me. He admits to the drink being his and then goes on further, but keeps the attention off why he’s drinking. He’s on about other people. Or so I thought, at first. I start connecting the dots as Doc goes on, nodding my head. I guess that’s true. I don’t know. I don’t go into bars often, and if I do, it’s looking for some no name vampire no one really cares about, or a blood thief.

I grin at Doc’s explanation of love, which is a little harsh. Not something I expected the guy to share with me because I think Doc and Cytherea have this passive aggressive thing going on. I’m not judging. I think they get off on it, which is their business, but I think they do care a lot about the other-or love screwing with the other one in some way or another. “So, I take it you didn’t buy your wife anything either?” I inquire before turning the side of my body to the bar, ignoring the bartender that was coming on. He asks me if I want a drink and I shake my head. “No, but he does. Bring him a double.” I shove a hand in my coat pocket, grab my wallet and slap a ten down on the bar. “He’s heartbroken. Or something.” I like antagonizing people sometimes and Doc needs it right now. He appears to be upset over something and it just can’t be about the alcohol thing. Could it?

Doc’s ‘**** you’ comment had been said in a flat unemotional tone, much like someone says, ‘nice weather huh>’. So he didn’t notice that Ric had been taken aback by it. Truth of the matter was, that was his go-to phrase when someone one-upped him. A flat emotionless ‘**** you’ which to Doc was akin to ‘touche’ you ******* ********.’

It was Doc’s use of colorful metaphors that turned most people off about him. However, to him, his use of those metaphors had become second nature at an early age. Those metaphors annoyed his father to no end, which made it all the more important to Doc to continue to use them. Soon the words were so firmly entrenched in his vocabulary like the words ‘the’, ‘have’, and ‘with’. It was actually quite an effort for him to restrain from adding those curse words, when he was in ‘polite company’ or a ‘business setting’. It was only with certain people like his faction, spawns, and the few he considered friends that he let himself relax around.

When Ric orders him a double and tells the bartender he is heartbroken, Doc turns to give Ric a flat grim lipped stare. “You are in a good mood, you headed home to get laid or something? Hope you have a pretty little gift lined up first.. Or your hopes of getting your rocks off just went up in smoke.” He smirked cruelly at Ric, “And by pretty and little, I mean very expensive and glittery.”

Doc eyes the fresh drink brought to him by the bartender courtesy of Ric. He sighed. The practice of drinking and holding one’s liquor would be different if he could actually ..******* taste it. But he can’t. It’s akin to drinking water. Why drink water if you aren't thirsty? It seemed to be more of a chore than something entertaining. When Ric asked him if he bought gifts, because ric thought that was for chumps, he turned his attention away from the drink and gave Ric a solid wholehearted response. “**** yes I do!”

The grim look Doc had been wearing, eased to reveal a more cagey almost sneaky look. “I have no illusions about myself. I am ******* asshole ********, that is barely ******* tolerated by most people.. And even less tolerated by females. And I have a weakness.. Females. I like them. I like to watch them, touch them, and I especially like it when they smile at me.” His look morphs into apathetic look along with a careless shrug, “Except.. I can’t be fucked to actually try and be nice, in order to get a smile. Too much ******* effort involved in that. But gifts? That is no effort at all. None. Swipe of a bank card, and little gifts are sent off to be received by unsuspecting females, and what do I get out of it? Tolerance. A bit more tolerance than anyone else like me would get. And if I am lucky.. I get a tolerance -and- a smile.”

Picking up the drink, he tossed it back and set the empty glass on the bar. “So next time I **** up.. I will get a subliminal pass. They do not consciously tell themselves to give me a pass, no. It’s instinctive. Females like shiny, pretty, expensive things. I can afford shiny, pretty, expensive things. Win win.” Doc slid Ric a look with a crooked smirk, “I sent Skylar a gift.. And you … didn’t.”

Yes it was good to know that Ric liked him well enough, Doc liked Ric as well. In fact, on the short list of people Doc liked, other than hot curvy females, Ric topped the list. But Ric didn’t always see the reactions Doc received from women. If he did he might understand Doc’s plan a bit more. “The females in Ty.. absolutely they get gifts. They are the 'most' important to keep happy. You and I have seen first hand, they have no mercy when they are hunting someone down. Dutch will blow a ******* hole in a guy’s head, then start filing her nails again without a care in the world. Do you really think I want to be in the receiving end of that whirlwind of destruction? **** no! And if all I have to do, is give them a shiny to keep me in their good graces.. Buddy you know I am doing ****.”

Doc could care less if Ric and Skylar didn’t celebrate the day; Doc did. And why? So that for all his faults, and he had many, the females that he sent presents to, would, at some point in their life, hold him up as a positive example to their husbands, boyfriends, or significant others. He would never witness it, but somewhere, at some time, a female would screech at their beloved, “No Gift?! Doc sends me a gift..Doc! And you send me NOTHING?!” The mere mental image of that event happening, made him smile and renew his resolve to always give the females the shiny pretties they all loved and adored.

“And you may want to think you don't celebrate it.. but you do now.” He barely refrained from grinning, “And if you don’t, I think you are in for a long night Ric.” Doc was lucky, when the Ball and Chain got annoyed with him, she would give him the silent treatment. Sure she would stomp, snort and glare.. But silently. As if the silence would burn him. But not Skylar. No, when she got annoyed, she ranted. She talked, incoherently it seemed to Doc. Mostly because he tunes out after a female’s voice hits a certain decibel. He had seen Skylar get angry when they went paladin hunting, and he certainly did not want to be the target at which it was directed again. But Ric being the target? Oh yes, that amused him. He tried to hide the amusement from his face, as he pictured Ric trying to ignore Skylar as she babbled irately at him.

Bracelet $200.00, Giving it to your Buddy's wife to **** him over? Priceless.

Doc’s voice was rife with facetiousness as he said, “It’s not too late.. Quartermaine’s is still open.”