Nothing Compares [Vera]

[Lancaster]

Sometimes the heartache hit Lancaster like a freight train.

The nights trundled alone like normal; he worked, he came home, he read his obscure books, he slept, and then did it all over again. It was enough to keep him occupied and distracted. With four businesses and all the employees that belonged to them, he had plenty of issues to keep his mind off whatever it was that he missed. And when he miraculously had time to himself, he read philosophy. He read complex tomes about space and the fabric of the universe. He read David Foster Wallace, over and over and over again. If he was too busy thinking about Earth’s role, then he had less time to focus on his own miniscule woes.

But when they hit him like they could, they were hardly miniscule. As an Allurist, emotions could really do a number on him. They could curdle his inside, they could burn him alive. They could turn him into a veritable cloud of black, heavy and pregnant with thunderstorms and rain.

When they did, much to the dismay of some of the staff, he took to the stage of Lancaster’s like it was his own personal soapbox. It didn’t matter most of the time; the customers couldn’t care unless they were vampires and immune to the magic of his voice. Given that it was a pub, however, and most vampires couldn’t eat or drink, they had no reason to hang around. The humans, though, were drawn to his voice when he sang like moths to a flame. They were the rats to his pipe. It didn’t matter what he sung, they enjoyed it regardless.

It was a hollow kind of comfort – yet another way in which this life had let him down – never to know whether someone truly enjoyed his music, or whether it was all just fake. The music had never been about fame, however. It had been about expression. His heart was aching, and though he swung from original to original song, he also threw in a few covers.

One of which was Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares to U. It was so lonely without Pi there. So often, he felt like a bird without a song. Every fibre of that emotion was thrust into the song, lacing his soaring, breaking voice with all the grief and desperation that he felt. The crowd flocked, silenced, watching, listening. It might have been eerie, but Lancaster sang on anyway.

Tonight, he really didn’t care if their admiration wasn’t real. It was admiration that he needed.

[Wearing and song]

[Vera (DELETED 8679)]

Vera didn't know what it was that drew her inside. Pubs weren't anything special to her, and because she kept her alcohol consumption to a rather low amount and didn't have much of a social life outside of her rather taxing and time consuming occupation...it was but a mystery.

For a bit of insight, she had gotten a decent management position in one of the cities major powerhouses. It payed well, though it wasn't nearly enough for the tasks she was completing. The woman was constantly staying late and coming in early, loosing sleep, barely eating. Hell, Vera was working herself to death quite literally.

Anyways, she had been walking back from the office where she worked, trying to make her way back to her apartment. There was no need for anything larger due to being an only child and not enough time for relationships as cliche as it sounded. But early that night Vera quite surprisingly finished all that was needing to be done and was able to head back early for once. And having a few hours to spare, it would clearly be spent eating, showering, and most importantly, sleeping.

Well, until she past by Lancaster's.

It so happened to be when someone was exiting, causing the tones of someone singing to be carried outside. Vera, despite being rather fatigued, was unable to resist entering the building, her eyes directly focusing upon the man upon the stage intently focused upon the song for some reason or another. She hung back near the door and faintly in the back of her mind questioned what she was doing, but that was quickly suppressed without an answer.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster continued to play until the crowd started to dwindle; as drawn as they were to his voice, too long on the same medicine and they soon became immune. They had places to go and people to see. They had either to go home, or to go on to some rowdier establishment, somewhere where they could dance to the music, rather than begin to feel infected by the moroseness of it.

Growing a little tired of his own brooding, Lancaster eventually thanked what crowd was left and made to pack up his equipment. The night was drawing onward, and he would have to help the kitchen pack up. He’d help to serve the remaining customers until they all left, until one or two remained that he would have to coerce to leave – normally they were regulars, those who had no place to go, or who did not wish to return home – before closing up for the night. He was already thinking ahead, to when he would be climbing the stairs two floors to the attic, bereft of windows, where he would fall into a dead sleep for the day. It was the only reprieve he had from his emotions.

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas.

A shout was issued from near the bar. A man wielding a gun – a good looking gun, too, an expensive one – had latched on to a women, holding her tightly by the shoulders as he pointed the gun at her head.

“No one leaves!” he shouted.

“Everyone on the ground!” he demanded.

“I want everyone’s wallets. Your jewelry, everything! Take it all off, out of your pockets, put it on the floor in front of you. Do it!” he said, before turning the gun on Jessica behind the bar.

“All the money from the register too. Now!” he screamed. He seemed confident, and yet Lancaster knew otherwise. These thieves were always jumpy. They were dangerous when they were nervous. Even if they came into a place without any intention of hurting anyone, they would hurt someone anyway.

Lancaster froze as he crouched by the open guitar case. He watched, for now – he knew he didn’t want to let the thief get away with anything, but rushing in wouldn’t do anyone any favours. So he waited, bided his time, until the opportunity was right.

[Vera (DELETED 8679)]

Vera had entered towards the middle of the song, so she had been entranced until the singer ended. Blinking a few times and silently scolding herself for getting suddenly so sidetracked, the woman watched a small moment longer as he thanked the crowed before beginning to pack his equipment, and it was at this point she noticed the bar had emptied out quite a bit, only leaving a few scattered patrons who were most likely usual customers. But was she went to leave, it wasn't fast enough before a man stormed into the building waving a rather impressive firearm around widely before quickly latching onto her shoulder and pressing the muzzle up to her skull. Vera's eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat and pulse began to race. Just her luck, being caught up in a robbery and used as a hostage.

He demanded everyone's wallets, jewelry, basically anything that held value on the floor as well as everyone on the ground. But there was no way in hell she was moving and risking this guy's trigger finger. But the thief then switched his aim onto the bar-hand behind the counter, demanding the cash register to be emptied as well. Everything was completely silent, aside from the sounds of panicked breathing, things being set upon the floor, and an occasional command being issued in a harsh, confident voice. Now, Vera knew that being glad the gun was on someone else was a selfish thought but at a moment we're your life is at stake, she didn't really care. Slowly moving her hand to her right pocket, the woman tried to get inside but was quickly stopped by the cold steel pressed to the side of her head. "What are you doing?!" He demanded. "Just...getting the items you asked for..." She murmured softly in a non-threatening tone. Last thing she wanted was to send this guy into a spiraling panic.

He grunted and muttered “Don’t bother.” Before shouting “Alright! I'm going to walk around and collect everything. If ANYONE moves, she…” He gestured to Vera. “Gets shot.” Her face remained emotionless despite her blue eyes consumed with terror at the possibility of death. The man then walked around with a small cloth bag, shoving cell phones, wallets, watches, rings, even dumping one lady’s entire purse into it. As he continued to walk around, her gaze flicked from the singer who crouched next to his open instrument case to various customers.

It wasn't long before he finished collecting everyone’s belongings and made his way back over to his hostage. Turning to face the small, fearful crowed he then exclaimed sarcastically “I thank you all for your participation. Now, to make sure no one follows me…” He grabbed Vera, pressed the barrel of the gun up to her gut and fired. Her ears rang but that was soon forgotten as the bullet tore through her stomach and managed to create an exist wound near the upper part of her back near her spine. As people screamed, the man quickly left though she didn't take any note of that. Her hands instinctively went to cover the wound before she fell back, blood slowly trickling out of both holes and pooling around her. Pain numbed her mind and blurred her vision, no long able to focus on anything around her.

Meanwhile a few people rushed out of the building, one man retching in a garbage can, and the rest screaming about calling an ambulance.

Things weren't looking so good, if you couldn't already tell.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster’s bright eyes watched the thief as he made his rounds; he wanted to call the criminal’s bluff. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, he just wanted the valuables. Did he not know what suburb he was in? He’d hardly get a few crisp notes from these wallets, and the most valuable jewellery would probably only be valuable in its sentimentality.

Rather than try anything in the pub, Lancaster thought, he’d wait. When they think they’ve got away, thieves would be less inclined to kill someone due to nervous ticks. Or, if he pulled the trigger it would be upon a vampire who could heal a simple bullet wound within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Lancaster’s only thought was for the safety of the patrons, and if he could tackle the thief once he was outside and take all their belongings back? It would be a happy ending.

When the thief got to him, Lancaster was forced to hand over his wedding ring. Although he had plenty of tricks up his sleeve that could have stopped the thief then and there, it wouldn’t be safe to use them in front of so many witnesses. Not wise, anyway. Now that the thief had such a precious item, Lancaster was determined to follow through with his plan.

And yet, his plan couldn’t go as expected.

His plan hinged on assuming the thief never intended to hurt anyone. The plan was flushed down the proverbial toilet when the gun shot echoed and rang in Lancaster’s ears. The scent of blood was quick to hit his senses, and he could only watch, aghast, as the innocent bystander collapsed to the ground.

The thief would have to wait.

Long legs took Lancaster to the fallen girl’s side. Someone else called for an ambulance, so Lancaster was free to press his hand against the wound to try to stem the copious bleeding. It took him a few seconds to realise that she wasn’t bleeding from the front, but from the back. The bullet had gone straight through. This… couldn’t be good.

A quick glance around the pub assured Lancaster that his hired bouncers were doing their job. They were not there, which meant they were following the thief. His warning had gone unheeded. It was a useless warning. Unneeded. Wasteful. People liked to call vampires monsters, but from where were those monsters born? They were human, first. Humanity needed to cure its own flaws, and perhaps it would fail to produce monstrous vampires. But that was beside the point.

Lancaster turned back to the woman on the floor, one hand over her wound and the other pressed reassuringly to her shoulder.

”It’s…” he started to tell her it would be fine. But for peculiar reasons, he could not lie. ”… the ambulance is on the way,” he muttered.

Why, he wondered, did people keep dying in his pub?

[Vera (DELETED 8679)]

At this point, the amount of adrenaline in her system had numbed the wound, though the effects of blood loss were still extremely present. But Vera was able to tell that someone was leaning over her, speaking and pressing on the wound. Anything more specific than that however was unable to be told. Yet the person who had dialed for emergency services was having a hard time communicating with the operator. In total, it took him about 25 minutes to finally explain (despite still not being all that clam) that a woman had been shot and an an ambulance was needed. In this time, the pool beneath her had grown rather large, her clothing soaked in the liquid. It was clear that they were most likely not going to reach the building in time as Vera's pulse had began to loose strength, eyes glazed as well as breathing at an unsteady pace.

She was bleeding out.

That had to be the best luck imaginable. Finally getting a small bit do time for herself only to being caught up in a robbery and shot to death. But it still puzzled her why she has been drawn into the bar in the first place. Pure curiosity, or something else...? No matter, it wasn't going to change the fact that her death would be on the floor of a pub surrounded by strangers.

(I apologize for the short reply, couldn't think of much to say!)

[Lancaster]

There were only a few people left.

Lancaster’s broad gaze swept the interior of the establishment; a ring of curious and concerned onlookers surrounded them – he on the floor beside this woman who’d no doubt die before the ambulance got here. He could feel her fear; he could hear the way her heart slowed, the way it struggled to pump blood only to have it exit the system.

It was Jessica’s expression that helped Lancaster to decide what he would do next. She was a strong woman, Jessica; she’d worked in bars the majority of her life, and her skin was thick. She knew about the supernatural. She’d been in the bar when the fadebeast had appeared out of nowhere. She’d seen plenty of the things that Lancaster had achieved, one of which included carrying an electrocuted, near-death Skylar upstairs only to see the same girl alive and well and perfectly fine the next night. Jessica knew that her boss was a vampire. She knew that they sold blood to the nocturnal customers. She wasn’t stupid.

The way she looked at Lancaster now, it was with silent reprimand. He could almost imagine her telling him he’d done nothing to stop the thief right from the beginning, so it was his fault this woman was now dying. Lancaster chose to have basic faith in others; he liked to believe that no one really wanted to hurt other people. It was an optimism he had to try to shed.

And why not? Everyone here will have seen the news. They would have had their assumptions. If they could see that vampires were feeling creatures who would save people who needed saving, it’d be good PR, right? He didn’t have to whisk the woman upstairs and out of sight. He could do it right here, right now.

Maybe Jessica just wanted to see.

”Okay,” he said.

”What’s your name?” he asked the woman. ”You’ve seen the news, yeah? You know vampires exist. You’re going to die here before the ambulance gets here, and even if they do get here, they won’t be able to save you. I can. But you’ll be like me, yeah? You’ll be a vampire. Do I have your permission?” he asked, his fingers pushing the hair from the woman’s forehead, trying his best to comfort her even while he asked his questions.

He didn’t look up at those surrounding them. Whether or not they’d had their assumptions, he’d admitted what he was. The word would spread. The consequences could be dire – but he’d never been the type to hide, and it was a relief, now, to be free.

[Vera (DELETED 8679)]

Vera was borderline unconscious as the gravity of the situation struck her full force. Terror seized her with an icy, unrelenting grip as she knew that there was no way she was going to survive. Yet as she noticed that the man was speaking to her once more did she try her hardest to listen, see if any of it was important or at the very least comforting. Yet what he said...threw her off. She had seen the news and heard people talking nonstop about the new reveal of vampires. The woman had been skeptical and just shrugged it off as some sort of mass prank or nothing all that factually. Hell, she was too busy to care anyway. But bleeding out on the floor of a bar with a man saying that with her permission he could save her life by turning her into a bloodsucking creature of the night?

This guy was most likely delusional but it's not like she had any choice at the moment.

Recalling that he had asked for her name, she managed to fight for consciousness and mumbled softly "Vera...R-ahgot..." It took effort, yet it was at least somewhat audible. Next she simply nodded, not really caring at this point. If he had some sort of odd fetish, she couldn't stop him. Yet something in the back of her mind briefly considered truth in his words, which in turn was quickly ignored. After this she remained silent, gazing intently into the alleged vampire's eyes, curiosity found buried beneath the pain and fear.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster hesitated only briefly, another glance spared for those that looked on. Some looked apprehensive, others curious. At least one had walked away. The musician was anxious, not just because of what he was about to do – he’d done it plenty of times in the past to be confident of the outcome – but because of who he was doing it in front of. He didn’t want hunters to come down upon the pub like the plague, but he had to have faith. He had to trust in the goodness of others – and that they would see it in him.

With an encouraging nod from Jessica, Lancaster turned back to Vera.

”Okay, Vera. My name is Elliot – Lancaster,” he said. Although his given name was Elliot, he’d gone most his life with his friends calling him Lancaster. It was his surname, and he adopted it as the one by which most people called him. His Australian accent was broad, but he made sure to speak slowly, to not slur his words. He needed Vera to understand what was happening. For a moment, he had to close his eyes; he had to imagine that Pi was there with him, that she was helping him sate a thirst that he hadn’t felt for months. Imagining his partner helped the canines to sharpen, to extend from his lungs like a pair of gleaming scalpels. He brought his wrist to said teeth and tore a healthy wound in the flesh. Blood bubbled to the surface.

”You have to drink this. As much as you can, okay? It’s going to hurt a whole lot before it feels any better, but it’s going to heal you. If you need to pass out, don’t fight it – I’ll keep you safe. And I can explain everything when you wake up,” he said. With two fingers he gently applied pressure to Vera’s chin, helping her lips to part. He held the bleeding wrist over her tongue.

”I know it’s weird, but you have to drink…”

[Vera (DELETED 8679)]

The dying woman didn't bother responding when Eliot Lancaster introduced himself, her fading gaze was enough. Though she quickly connected the dots, that this was not only the musician that had been on stage earlier but was also most likely the owner of the establishment as well. But there was no time to dwell on this fact, for the man had already used his teeth to make a rather deep wound along his wrist. He then spoke, explaining that she needed to drink as much as possible, blood staining his incisors a light pink. Small shreds of doubt began to seed within the back of mind as she realized that there might actually be a bit of truth to the most recent claims. Yet it wasn't as if there were many other options nor a real way to back out at this point. So Vera could just watch as he lifted his wrist to her lips, putting a light amount of pressure on her chin so she could drink the vampire's blood.

And as soon as it hit her tongue, it felt like nothing else she had before. Even combining all the pain she had withstood in her lifetime, the bullet included, wasn't enough to amount to how it felt to lap up the metallic fluid. Is scorched her tongue, seared and scratched the inside of her throat and even as it hit the numb bit that was her stomach she could feel it eating it's way through her violently. Vera was able to take at least a few mouthfuls before being forced to pull away, not being able to bare the discomfort any longer. Her gaze fixated itself upon the ceiling, a glassy film appearing upon their surface. That and her vitals grew worse, pulse growing fainter though at a pace so rapid it was amazing she hadn't gon into cardiac arrest. And a breath so shallow, her chest barely rose and fell, having to feel the air exit and enter her mouth to actually tell the anything was getting to her lungs at all.

Vera had been told to not fight falling unconsciousness, and at this point she wasn't willing to do so. It took a few moments to arrive but nonetheless came, her eyes not even bothering to close as the woman's vision dimmed regardless of any surrounding illumination.