Flux [Open]

[Freyja]

Sitting still as stone, Freya rested her tall, lean figure against the bar, the cool surface pressed to her hip as she stirred her drink with a single digit, tapping her nail against the lip of the glass, the solid ice drinkware a novel idea. She had to hand it to her fast friends at Volaire! internal decoration, they had really brought her vision to life. She’d had her own hands in the construction itself, of course, but she hadn’t been allowed to see the final product until they were ready. This blew every expectation she had out of the water. She smiled to Bambi, pulling her close and kissing the woman’s soft, warm cheek as the girl laughed. She tipped her head back, looking up at the tall Danish vampire with a giddy smile, her cheeks already flushed red from the cold and the alcohol she’d taken to like a fish to water. Her soft, red face was framed by a ring of white faux fur, the parkas provided at the door to the Ice half of Flux more than enough to keep the thinnest of her customers plenty warm during their stay.

The Fire bar, the dance floor and VIP lounges had been open for months, the undergoing of installing an Ice bar in an already existing club was something that had taken a little ingenuity and a lot of flexing her wallet. What most people don’t realize is that, once you start throwing commas into payout figures, suddenly things become not only possible, but incredible. This was the unveiling of the Ice bar, the cool half of her club much more muted than the heat and energy of the Flux that her patrons knew. The furniture; tables, chairs, booths, sculptures and accents, even the bar and the glasses that her patrons drank from, were all cut from tremendous blocks of ice she had transported from the far north. One thing that she didn’t think Canada would ever be short on; Ice.

She sipped at her vodka and pat the blonde woman’s face as she rested her head against the tall Dane’s shoulder. “You should slow down, Bambi. We just opened and you’re already getting a little sloshed.” The thrall shook her head vigorously, her platinum strands hiding her eyes as she snickered and gave a gentle breath to blow the hair from her face. She grinned up at the vampire and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m fine, Frey. It’s just really cold in here. Can’t we just turn the heat up just a little?” She started to glance around for a thermostat for what had to be the third time. Freyja lifted a hand and gently clamped the woman’s soft face in her thin fingers, turning her to face the much taller woman as she explained, for the third time, why they couldn’t, in fact, turn the heat up.

“Bambi, doll, if we turn the heat up, where will anyone sit? Where will I keep my alcohol? I’ll have a puddle, instead of a bar.” She smiled, and kissed the woman’s brow, just between her eyes. It was a loving gesture, one that the shorter, softer woman had grown completely accustomed to, and gave a bright, cheery grin in return. She nodded her head, and moved to slide away from the bar, weaving into the small knots of people. The girl was a blessing, but sometimes, she was a handful. Freyja sighed, and lifted her glass to her blood red lips again, drinking the smooth, clear liquor down without a wince as she watched the patrons mingle, the atmosphere much more muted than the thriving pulse of the Fire bar, where her bartenders were entertaining with an opulent fire eating display and a dazzling array of the usual ‘tender tricks. She’d paid for the best in the business, and they had delivered.

Here, the scenery was more chill, a moment to get away from the excitement, to relax and let the icy bite of the air embrace you while you settled down for a quiet conversation, the music still an upbeat, pop-dance mix, but played much more low-key, without the thrumming bass that made your body move without your brain. She enjoyed the mellow, the ice playing spectacular tricks with the lights, a shimmering array of color splashing across every surface as patrons milled about the bar.

She turned her head, crooking a finger at her bartender and summoning the girl down to where she sat, one long, pale leg crossed neatly over the other, her elegant red dress mostly hidden beneath the parka that was supposed to have kept her warm; not that she needed it. In fact, the subzero temperatures were comfortable to her, even before she had met Jaime. Before she’d died, she corrected herself, and gave the little ginger a wiggle of her empty glass. The bartender gleamed and snatched the glass, fetching a new one and filling it to the brim as she pushed it to the owner. Freyja smiled her thanks, and sipped the drink as she took note of the girl’s name badge.

Ginger. How original, mom. Ginger the ginger. Spectacular.

She sighed, and set the glass aside once again. She lifted her hands and pushed her slim digits through her long, golden curls, letting them fall around her face as she pushed back the hood of the parka. Things were going well on this side of the club, it was easy to see it on the face of the patrons that they were enjoying the more sophisticated, novel side of the new face of the club. She shrugged from the parka, unzipping it as she stood, leaving the glass behind as she rolled the heavy white coat and folded it over her arm, carrying it into the ready room, where her guests would exchange vouchers for the coats, each voucher an eight hundred dollar value. She couldn’t have anyone walking out in such expensive merchandise without having some kind of insurance, now could she?

Her personal jacket, she handed to the woman at the counter, and gave the tall, older gentleman standing with her a smile as he took the coat from his coworker and took it into the back, where they would hang it neatly outside of her office, where it would wait for her until she needed it again. No one used her personal coat. She stepped from the preparation room, her tall, slight figure breezing easily through the patrons that milled around the door, making their way in or out. She found herself moving through the club, her hands making minor adjustments to her dress as she whisked through the living dancefloor, a thousand bodies moving as one to the beat she chose. That was the greatest part of owning places like these, where people came to get away, to escape into the rhythm, that they all danced to her tune; in these walls, she held all the power.

Red lips twisted in a cruel smile as she watched them, mindlessly moving to the music as she edged her way to the bar. The club was a living organism, the music was its pulse, governing the speed and rhythm that the rest of the body operated, and sometimes, exactly what the end goal of that body might be. As she took a stool at the bar, surveying the Fire side of the club, Amber slipped up to her elbow, the woman’s short stature easy to overlook until her domineering personality just grabbed hold of your ears and forced your eyes down to her level. The beautiful young woman cleared her throat and nudged her employer’s hip with her elbow. “I thought you’d want to hear that White Rabbit is a smashing hit tonight. We’ve nearly doubled the usual take, and we’re getting more and more requests. If this keeps up, we aren’t going to have enough to finish the night.”

Freyja pursed her lips at the news. Bittersweet, that was the word for it. On the one hand, increased sales couldn’t ever be bad. More money was flowing into her pockets, and more of her product was flooding the streets. On the other hand, she was seriously playing with fire with a situation like this one. If she ran out, then her rivals would see that she is limited, that there isn’t an endless supply of her good, that she was as vulnerable as the rest of them. If she cut her product, it could lead to any one of a hundred different complications, some of which could completely ruin her. She took a sharp breath, then, and let her sharp blue eyes rest on the short blonde before she made up her mind. She nodded her head and put a thin hand on the small woman’s shoulder. “Let them know, I want the price doubled. That should slow them down, and it’ll keep our margin high.”

The body guard grinned, and gave a quick nod before she vanished in the crowd on the dance floor. Freya blinked, and the woman was gone. Some nights, she really wondered why she didn’t have the woman trained for assassination. She was a killer as it was; brutal and efficient, and she could just… vanish, even in front of someone whose eyes had seen this club gutted and turned inside out, before it was righted again. She knew every nook of the building, every secret that it had to keep, and still that little sprite would disappear on her. She would do it to the cameras, too. She’d tried to keep up with her from the security booth, and had been able to follow her for at least a moment before she was lost in the surge of the crowd. She was like a ghost; and Freyja knew she was lucky to have her.

Idly, the Danish woman lifted her hand to play her fingertips against the ends of her golden hair, her raptor’s eyes gliding across the bodies of the cells of her organism, she listened to its heartbeat, and, as she wiggled her fingers at one of her tenders, a drink in her hand in an instant, she sipped of its blood. Vodka ran crisp and sharp, and it never seemed to end. There was an ample supply of alcohol in Flux, enough to keep a Russian brothel intoxicated for an entire decade. If there was one thing she wouldn’t have to worry about, it was running out of alcohol. Or, the selection. Just like her bar, Flux attracted people of every taste and class, people that wanted different things from their alcohol.

She carried the back room kind of alcohol, the up and up and up. One of her favorites was the bottle of Diva she kept in her office. Filtered through diamonds and bottled with the stones, the cost was more figures than most of her staff spent on cars. Combined, in some cases. But, with such exclusively priced and lavish liquors, she also carried… well, the stuff you might find under the shelf at the liquor store, stuff not even good enough to carry on the bottom shelf. Whatever her customers wanted, that was what they would get.

Even the patrons she received that were… “like her.” They had their own reserve, and anyone in the know would tell them that the order phrase for just the right drink was an order of the “Speciel Rød.” Her tenders would know what it meant.

The tall blonde smiled as her thrall approached the bar in a stumbling rush, her hand clutching a smaller, thinner woman with jet black hair and a complexion as pale as milk. The soft, American thrall gave Freyja a wide smile. “Hey, Frey, I want you to meet Donna. I just met her in the bathroom a minute ago, and I was wondering if I could get the keys to the apartment? You know.” The thrall did her best at waggling her pale brows, but only managed a drunken twist of her face. Freyja couldn’t help but smile as she put a hand on Bambi’s shoulder. She let the touch slide up to her face, feeling the heat blast off of her cheeks, the blood rushing to her face in a wave of red heat. “You threw up, didn’t you?”

The thrall nodded her head, blonde hair bobbing with her as she laughed, and suddenly dropped into the puppy dog pout, her lower lip protruding as her green eyes sparkled with her plea. Freyja shook her head. “Why don’t you go take a seat in the Ice bar and talk with your new friend for a little while, and later tonight when you’ve sobered up a little bit, I might let you bring her home. But only if you behave.”

The thrall knew that was likely the best she was going to get, and she clutched the small woman’s hand and tugged her off toward the bar. Freyja caught her eyes and mouthed the words, ‘I’m sorry.’ The girl just smiled back, and they vanished into the throes of the living thing in her club. At least Bambi was having a good time. That, in itself, made her feel worlds better. She was concerned that something so mellow as the ice bar would ruin the ambience of the club. From what she’d gathered, listening to her patrons, the fresh perspective was a success. The Ice bar was a nice place to cool off, to get a little more intimate, more social, before climbing back into the carnal thrash of the Fire bar.

It was like little slices of heaven and hell.

Quietly, she reached into her clutch to retrieve her phone, tapping her manicured nail against the glass screen as she typed out a text to her thrall, checking up on her.

COMPOSED TEXT
TO: BAMBI
Hey girl, you feeling okay?
You didn’t look so hot earlier.
If you need to go home,
leave the girl here and I
can take you by the apartment
later. You can try and sleep
it off in my office if you need.
Just give me the word.

She plucked at the folds of her dress, her leg kicking idly as she sent the text, practiced hands moving to drop the phone into her clutch again. Her eyes moved to the dance floor, scanning the faces, looking for someone, for anyone familiar. All she saw was the shapeless faces of the nobodies that filled her clubs day in and day out, night after night until they were all broke excuses and dried out husks. She was surrounded by a thousand people, but in the heart of her own club, she was alone. She hated that feeling. Solidarity was just something she didn’t often seek; not when she was looking to have a good time. She reached for her phone again, and tapped several names in her address book.

She would see if she couldn’t make a few faces appear.

MASS MESSAGE MEDIA
TO: MULTIPLE RECIPIENTS
Hey guys, I’m down at the
grand opening of Flux’s
new Ice bar. Thought I
would give you all a
shout to see if anyone
might be interested in free
shots for the night? My
treat of course!

There. Most of her friends would likely be too hammered or too stoned to realize that their drinks were always free in her bar. She’d caught one of her tenders charging her friend for her drinks once. Once. It was never a problem again.

Idly, she let her leg bob to the beat of the music, the thrumming bass making her entire frame tremble with pleasure and excitement. She loved the way the music penetrated every part of her, shook her down to her very core, like the sound could reach down inside of her and touch her soul. Music was a part of her that she revolved much of her life around. Clubs, bars, entertainment of all kinds, every one of her establishments surrounded itself with the musical talents and the power that they held over the human, and… not so human, psyche. Music itself was an instrument of great and awesome power, and if wielded correctly, could be used as a weapon, or as an aid. The knowledge of what to do with it was what made her so successful, her syndicate so powerful.

The drugs were one thing. They were a marvel of their own merit, a concoction she’d honestly stumbled upon, and has since marketed and distributed with an absurd success all through the underworld, the little clear pills raking in more cash than she could have imagined in a night. But the music… the music was what really brought out the power of the White Rabbit. The vibrations of the bass were what gave real life to the hallucinations. It was what really gave the pill’s trip its true form. Without it, the destination was unknown, the ride an entirely different experience altogether and, while not unpleasant, wholly unsatisfying after having witness the power of the music as it touched your soul.

Shaking her head, Freyja pulled her mind away from the musings of her little personal project, and lifted her fingers to the red scarf clinging tightly to her throat. She secured it neatly, keeping it perfectly in place as she gave her bartender a warm smile. The deep, horrific gash in her throat had still not healed, the angry red wound in her neck horrifying to look at, and certainly an attention grabber if she left it exposed. Fortunately, she’d managed to heal her windpipe, as well as the vocal chords, her speech returning to her, but not without a certain amount of pain that came with each word.

She let her fingers dig gently beneath the scarf, and rubbed at the healing wound, grimacing lightly and just flashing her bartender a smile when she caught her giving her a worried glance. She shook her head and leaned closer. “Sore throat. Been in the Ice bar all week getting things ready.” The girl nodded, her eyes lighting up with understanding as she laughed. “That makes sense. You want me to get you something hot? Tea? Maybe a toddy?” Freyja waved the girl off, shaking her head as she made a show of clearing her throat. The tender parted with a final smile, before she rushed to the other end of the bar to see to her customers, leaving the Allurist all alone with her thoughts again.

She turned to the club, watching in a pleased silence as the club’s pulse rose to a fever pitch, bodies moving in unison, the air filled with an electricity that could spark a wildfire. This was the money pit. While her customers danced the night away, drunk on wine and life, the pills more than half of them placed under their tongues transcended their conscious beings, elevating them to a level of pleasure that they would lose themselves in the evening, really freeing themselves to be who they really wanted to be. Wallets became much more open, and the happiness of the people around her soared exponentially. It was more than just the money, but the good vibes, the pleasure, the happiness that really made this all worth the work.

She smiled to herself, a smug little smirk as she sipped at her vodka, watching as her bodyguard slipped through the crowd to approach her again. This time, she didn’t say a word, and just pulled herself into the stool beside her employer. Together, they sat in the crowded club, watching the way the club just.. lived. Finally, she turned to the tiny blonde and muttered into her ear, over the sound of the music. “If I gave you a name, do you think you could track someone down for me?” The woman cocked her head to one side, a confused expression crossing her features as she looked at the tall, slender woman towering over her before she gave her a slow nod. “If I’m getting paid right, I can do anything you need.” Freyja smiled, and placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” She turned back to the crowd, then, and let herself go in the beat, her body swaying with the crowd, dancing from her place in the stool as she let her body move with the music. Amber, meanwhile, stole sidelong glances at the woman until she finally turned and lifted a fine brow. “Was there someone you needed to find?” Freyja waved her off, and tipped her head back as she swayed. “Don’t worry about it sugar. When I’m ready, you’ll know it.” She smiled, and gave the girl a nudge before she pulled out her phone again, texting her bouncer at the door. She wasn’t sure how many of her friends, if any of them, would bother to show up to the club, but she hoped that at least one would make their way down to see the place’s new face.

[Adelita (DELETED 5973)]

To: Elighan
From: Adelita (the **** that sired you!)

Dear Elighan-

What is your problema, seriously? You haven't replied to a single message I have sent you since February...maybe even longer! It's now almost April! I would think this was some sort of April Fool's joke, but since you don't have a singular funny bone in your body, I'm actually starting to worry about you. And am getting mad, annoyed and a lot of other things! So you better reply soon, or I'm going to send someone to interrupt your little love nest with that slut of yours!

Lita

P.S. Okay, maybe she's not a slut, but you aren't giving me a good impression by staying away from me, not replying and not showing her off either.

Heavy, irritated and furious fingers slammed on the keyboard as Lita wrote the email out before she jabbed at the enter key one times too many, more than likely sending the message multiple times just to get the message through to him and flood his inbox in hopes of him checking his email for a change.

Once that was done, Adelita moved into the living room with her laptop and sat next to Whinny who was watching whatever she wanted to watch. Adelita was far from being in the mood to watch any television, let alone any novellas, which must indicate her fury for Elighan at the moment. Or maybe it was clear and present disdain for the guy who did a disappearing act yet again! She should have just killed him after all-if Lita had it in her. Which, truthfully she didn't, unless you really got under her skin and fucked her over-which he hadn't technically. Him living his own life wasn't actually doing anything to her businesses, or her own personal life. So, no killing the childe any time soon. Adelita will just have to learn to deal with his piss poor attitude.

The laptop was slowly closed and put on the table, before Lita's arms crossed at her chest and she sulked in the couch next to Wynifred, who noticed it right away. "Something wrong? Boy problems?" Whinny knew it typically was this, in a lot of different ways, not just the romantic sort of way. Adelita grumped as she pouted, then nodded her head, at which this point, Whinny turned off the television and turned to face her friend. "Tell me what's going on. Is it Blake?"

Adelita chuckled and then shook her head. "No, it's not Blake. Or like that at all." Adelita rolled her eyes and then sat up taller in the couch before she went on. It's Elighan." A hand went up to stop Adelita so that Whinny could say her two cents. "Is that the guy who was human that you were screwing, then whatever happened and you made him a vampire? I can't keep all these guys straight in your life anymore, Lita." The other brunette admitted with a laugh as the Mexican woman nodded her head slowly.

"Si, that's him." Adelita said as Whinny gave her an all knowing look. "It's not like that. I think he skipped town or died. Or I don't know but he's not spoken to me for almost two months. Or more. It's been a really long time and he seems so happy with that girl, so we've both moved on..." Wynifred frowned and then spoke. "If he's dead, what can you do about it, Lita? Nothing. That's not his fault or yours as to why he's not answering. It's hard to reply when you're dead."

Lita waved a hand in the thrall's direction and then rolled her eyes. I know. I can still be mad and complain." Adelita snatched up her phone on the table that was next to the laptop she put down and found Godric's name. She was just about to message him when her phone got a message from...Freyja! Freyja!

Lita all but squealed as she thought the other woman, who was one of her favorite women in the city, had forgotten her. But it looked like she hadn't judging by the message, even if it was a mass message. It meant Freyja considered Adelita a friend or something close to it. Maybe just an acquaintance but still! She had thought of Lita, and right now Lita needed friends, especially the female kind. Wynifred was nice and all, but she was still a little not right in the head after all that stuff went down in Mexico. Something Adelita was still trying to make up to the woman to this very day.

To: Freyja
From: Lita

Heeeey, girl! Tell me where, because I can be there in no time! Free drinks are always fun!

x
lita

With the message sent and a strange look from Wynifred, but was blown off by Lita as she all but bounced to her room to start digging in her closet to look for the perfect dress for what might be the perfect night with some new faces, a potential friend and free drinks!

[Freyja]

As she sat, body swaying lightly with the music as she waited for the texts from the people she’d messaged, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She had a winner! And of course, the first one was Lita. That made her smile. She shook her head and tapped quickly at her phone, fingertips sliding against the screen as she finished her message and tapped ‘send.’

COMPOSED TEXT
TO: LITA
Hey, sugar! You remember
Flux? The club where we
met? The one where your
friend brought you. I’ve
done some major
renovations and just
wanted to do some
showing off. You know.
See you soon. xoxo

She tapped out of the sent message and brought up her childe’s name, opening a composed message just for her, since she still hadn’t heard from her, and it was unusual that she wasn’t the first to jump at her text.

COMPOSED TEXT
TO: CALIGRACE
GIRL, I KNOW YOUR PHONE
ISN’T OFF. ANSWER THIS
**** OR I’LL COME DOWN
THERE AND KICK YOUR
PASTY GINGER ***.
All the loves, girl. <333
xoxo

She closed the messaging app and opened her camera, flipping the camera around to the selfie camera on the front of the phone as she lifted her drink just shy of her lips, poised with the vodka shot glass resting on her bright red lower lip. She snapped the picture and saved it, tossing back the shot and taking another, saving it as well. She posted both to the club’s social media networks, advertising the good time she was having. She was like free advertising. She wouldn’t deny she looked damn good in the new red dress, the color really accenting her lightly tanned skin. Her freckles really played with the bright color, the gentle dusting giving her features sort of permanent, sultry shadow. She loved this dress.

She lifted her hand to her throat again, making sure that the scarf she was wearing was still settled right, keeping the fresh wound in her throat good and hidden. She didn’t need to be scaring away any of her customers or alarming any of her friends. She grinned, her legs kicking excitedly now as she waited at the bar. She hoped that Lita approved the new bar, and knew that Cali would, whenever she woke her lazy *** up and rolled out of bed. She dipped her hand into her clutch, reaching past her pistol for a pack of gum, placing a single stick on her tongue before rolling it between her teeth, chewing the minty strip as she waited, burning off some of that excess energy while freshening her breath and sating her craving for a cigarette. Neither of the women coming were particularly fond of their scent. She was nothing, if not considerate, and she could handle waiting until later for a smoke.

For the time being, while she waited, she slipped from her stool at the bar and pat at Amber’s arm. “I’m going over to the Ice bar again to wait for some friends. Head over there when you can, okay? The tiny woman nodded, and hurried off to finish filing her paperwork with the security office for the first of the evening shifts, leaving the tall, slender woman to navigate the dance floor again on her own, which she did with expert ease, gliding into the preparation room and requesting that the coat check retrieve her personal garment while she waited there for the others.