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The Opera (Elizabeth)

Posted: 31 May 2017, 00:07
by Doc
Doc winced as he hung up from speaking to Cyril. He had forgotten about the Opera. Well not completely, forgotten, he just hadn’t realized how much time had actually passed until he glanced at his watch and noticed the date. The month was half over, he could have lost the tickets by now. He just hoped that he could still wrangle a decent view and seat. Being the first time to ever see an Opera, that last thing he wanted was for them to have horrible seats.

Dialing the number that Cyril had given him, he waited on hold for nearly 20 minutes before ‘Anna’ picked up. Doc explained the situation, and Anna was able to find the record.

“So are you still wanting the tickets?”

“Yes I still want them, and I give you my payment details.. Are they good seats?”

“Yes, row six, center stage. That was why we called. We hate empty seat so close to the stage. And it is a popular Friday night showing.”

Doc let out a pent up sigh, “Great,..” He gave her the payment details, wrote down the confirmation number, and arranged to have them picked up by Cyril. Though he was sure Cyril wouldn’t be too pleased. But Cyril could get over it.

Glancing at his watch again, he was going to be later than even he had expected, but he needed to call Lizzie.

Dialing her number, he waited for her to pick up, and when it went to voicemail, Doc didn’t know whether to be pleased or not. On the one hand, he could say what he needed and be on his way; yet on the other hand, It was usually best to speak to the female when confirming a date. Once he heard the beep, He spoke.


“Lizzie, Doc. Calling to give you details on the Opera. Next Friday, at 8pm. We have center stage seating. I am going to be out cell range until Sunday. You know how to contact me otherwise if needed.” Doc hung up. Yes he had been cryptic, but he wasn’t sure who might listen to her messages.

Elizabeth: The message was listened to twice, before clear blue eyes glanced down at what visibly remained of Traci. She blinked, pulled off both gardening gloves and then felt the corners of her lips pull into a frown. How very cryptic, and yet...it phased her none. “I see.” Elizabeth said quietly as she disconnected the voicemail phone call and made her way from the garden grounds, to the third floor where her penthouse was located. Both sets of gloves came to rest upon the arm of the couch closest to the door, as Elizabeth wiped her bare feet upon the carpet at the door before entering.

She turned sharply to the right to take a seat at the dark wooden chair behind her writing desk. A drawer on the right side, lowest to the ground was opened as Elizabeth pulled out thick resume styled paper, while the other captured a pen from the top middle drawer. The black pen was twisted, revealing the point, as the paper came to lay flat upon the desk, while Elizabeth reflected upon the voicemail. It would have been easy to return the call and leave a voicemail in return; even easier to converse with Doc by just a thought or two, but whatever had him out of reach of a phone was quite possibly too important to interrupt. Nothing that she had to say, could not wait for his eventual return.



Dear Dic- Doc,

I received your voicemail message about the date and time for the Opera showing. It is an unfortunate shame that I had missed your call and we were unable to converse before you were unavailable for the remainder of the weekend. Well, no matter now. If one is reading this note, then the postal system is still in wonderful working order in this city and you will receive the message in plenty of time. Friday, is not good for me, and so, I must politely decline the invitation to accompany thee. Perhaps, a rain cheque?

Please forgive the scratchy, at best, penmanship at times. One had an unfortunate accident earlier in the week with my writing hand, a wall, and some dead weight.

Kindest Regards,

Elizabeth


Elizabeth folded the top flat of the envelope inside the seam, turned to look at her thrall, and handed him the note. After making direct eye contact with Diederik. “Take this to Winterbrook Asylum. Does one know the way?” Her head tipped, still holding the envelope with two finders.

“Ja.” He nodded his head, eyes on hers. Elizabeth stared into them for a few more seconds, before she smiled and nodded her head. “Good. Thank you. That will be all, Diederik. I imagine one such as yourself, has things to do this evening, so when the missive is given to whomever is in charge to forward to Doc, then one may do as they desire this evening.” She pushed back the chair behind her desk, giving it a second thought. “Oh. Perhaps, if I may...suggest a...quieter activity than the one from last weekend? I do enjoy my...friends to remain at my side longer than a fortnight at best.”

Elizabeth gingerly grabbed her cellular device with the semi-bruised hand from her incident with Traci, earlier in the week. The other hand moved for the handle on the top drawer, to which she pulled opened and dropped the device within it for safe keeping, while she finished the rows of wildflowers as planned.

Doc: Little did Doc know that what he had been looking forward to with genuine pleasure, would come crashing to an end. That seldom felt emotion, will vaporize like fog into the rising sun. It would be three days before he received her handwritten note, that summarily dismissed him. What did he really expect? She was within her rights to decline. He had no claim on her, and she was stating that ever so clearly. Carefully he folded the missive and returned it to it’s envelope. Moving across the room, he filed it under ‘correspondence’ and closed the drawer.

Leaving the office, Doc took at seat at the bar, and motioned for George to give him, his usual, 3 fingers of Woodford reserve. He said nothing, causing George to give him the typical bartender, ‘why don’t you tell me about it’ look. To which Doc gave him a baleful glare. Knowing when to step away, George did so now. If there was one thing George has learned in his sixty-two years on this earth, it was not to push a man when he was angry; and from George’s perspective, Doc was angry.

Doc sipped the bourbon, giving George not another thought. His mind was preoccupied with the iterations of what may have caused Lizzie.. No. Not Lizzie. Lizzie was the name of a friend, and it was made abundantly clear to him, that she did not consider him thusly. Therefore, she was Elizabeth. Once his mind made that determination, his ability to compartmentalize was, once more, back at full strength. The letter needed no answer. Her offhand comment at the end about a rain check was a very polite ‘**** you’. A very polite one, that followed the opening not-so-polite one. It stood to reason, if her letter needed no response, he need not waste effort on a reply. Taking another sip of bourbon, he decided that he would attend the opera alone. It would have been nice to share the experience with someone, but as he was finding out repeatedly, he was better off alone.

Elizabeth: Monday had passed with no word. Tuesday as well. Wednesday was drawing to a close and still no reply back from Doc. The wildflowers had been planted in accordance to Elizabeth's desire, which had left time to think. Reflect. Perhaps, she could surmise that calling Doc a Dic had not been her most proud moment, but at the same time...he had been called far worse in her opinion. After all, she had gifted him an *** a few months back, and he took it in good spirits.

Elizabeth's feelings had been hurt more than she would acknowledge and perhaps admitted to Traci, before the telepath woman had choked the woman to death in the boutique. And when she had finally came to realize that perhaps, Elizabeth's feelings had been trampled upon, he had called her and left a message. Most certainly, Elizabeth could have replied to Doc's message with a mere thought, but he too could have afforded such a means of communications.

”More gardening tonight?” Diederik asked as he looked up from his Microeconomics textbook. Elizabeth shook her head no while her blue orbs bounced around, then slowly narrowed. “No. Business takes me elsewhere tonight. Keep an eye on Berry?” Her eyes dropped down to the dog that was curled up in her puppy bed. ”Ja. Sure.” He replied, his dutch accent thicker than Elizabeth realized before. “Good.” Her retort came before the woman turned on her heels and disappeared into a fade portal that would take her halfway across the city.



A train whooshed by as the woman appeared beside a concrete column. Her eyes looked around, fell upon the building she was looking for. Her black heels clicked on the concrete, as Elizabeth sucked in the cool night air, finding her focus. Charles was not allowed to 'blow' her off again, after he had already done so...twice. It did not take her long to get inside her destination, being familiar with the layout of the mall, or the bar's location.


As soon as the woman donned in black entered 'Yin,' the atmosphere began to change. The spouts from the soda and water 'guns,' flicked and started streaming the heavy spurt of liquid from them. The appliances in the kitchen area seemed to malfunction; the refrigerator slowly warming up in temperature. The disposal in the kitchen sink whirred to life without any visible external force flicking the 'on' switch, and the stove's flames threatened to lick the ceiling with a 'WHOOSH!' Either the kitchen was 'haunted' or there was some correlation to Elizabeth's appearance and what was going on inside of it.

Her steps glided to the bar, daring to take a seat, regardless of what she knew was going on. Yes, perhaps her feelings on things ran a little deeper than Elizabeth had played it out to be in her reply to Charles. The woman smoothed her dress down, found the curve of a stool at the bar and looked pointedly at the man she had seen once or twice before. “I am here for Charles. I will wait, if necessary.” Elizabeth blinked once, seemingly unphased as to what was going on in the kitchen, just across the room, behind closed doors.


Doc: The evening had been quiet, no more than two patrons were in the place, and they were at a table to side. It was clear they wishes not to be disturbed. So when George saw Ms. Elizabeth enter, he gave her a ready smile. The smile faltered however, when his soda and water spigot started spraying soda and carbonated water across the bar. “What the hell!?” As George reached for the water cut off valve under the sink, the disposal blazed to life. “What the?!” Jerking his hand back, was a reflex action. He knew there was nothing under the sink that could harm him, but the sound of grinding, tended to make one think twice before blindly stumbling forward.

However, as luck would have it, as George jerked backward, the stove top at his back roared to life. Whirling about, after nearly becoming barbecue, an ashen faced George gaped at Elizabeth as she stoically announced she was there for Charles. Wasting no time what so ever, he bellowed, “DOC!”.

Doc had been vaguely aware of chaos in the bar, more by the muted noises, than by seeing the events themselves. He hadn’t paid it any heed as he had a George to handle that sort of thing. But when George shouted for him, Doc knew something needed his attention. It wasn’t just the shout .. it was the unadulterated panic in the shout that made Doc enter the scene hastily.

Standing there, he took in the whole scene, Elizabeth, stern but well appointed in her black dress, all the while water, soda, grinding, and flames shoot and burst forth. George by now had successfully turned off the water and disconnected the soda. The disposal still ground in a menacing fashion, as the flames continued to spurt in giant leaps. Doc moved to the stove and turned off the gas, and blew out the pilot light.

Standing, he straightened his tie, gave George a look and gesture that said, ‘clean this up..’ before he turned his attention to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth. What an unexpected surprise. Slumming?”

Elizabeth: The reaction of George did little to garner any reciprocated response from the woman sitting at the bar. Her attention was solely designated for one person, and one alone. And until he made an appearance, the building could burn for all she cared. And maybe, it just might.

Her blue eyes narrowed at Doc’s words, before Elizabeth laughed and looked around. “Mmm, yes. This place does seem to have gone down hill lately.” The blonde woman acknowledged, before tacking on. “Mayhaps the management has failed to spend the appropriate time and effort within the establishment to ensure its...success.” She tsk’d, then waved a hand to dismiss her previously spoken thoughts. “If one is not careful…” She leaned forward, found the tie Doc had adjusted previously and pulled it towards her so that they would be as close to eye level as possible. “They may very well loose what it is they have worked so very hard for. Advice from an old friend...Charles.” The tie was released while the woman reclaimed her seat once again.

Doc: Doc saw her hand come forward, grasp his tie, and ever so surely pull him to her eye level. By this time, the lone couple at the table had their full attention. After all, who could ignore spraying fountains and flames? And an irate blonde bombshell?No one. So as she took him to task verbally, he warred with himself. He wanted to unleash his own tirade at her for the ‘**** you’ letter. But this was not the time nor place. He would wait until they did not have an audience, and then he would..

He pulled himself up short, as she retook her seat. He would, what? What did it matter. She was the one that gave him the big heave ho, off you go; so why was he fighting it? Had he not learned that lesson, time and again, that no matter what he said, did, felt, mattered? The female was always right, and he was always in the wrong. So he had let it go. He had let her have the last word. He had taken the kick to the curb without issue. So why was she here now? How much further did she wish to kick him? He looked around the disaster that was now his bar, knowing that somehow, even if he didn’t know exactly how, that she was behind it. He couldn’t prove it. But he knew, and she knew, she had done it. She had all but admitted it. But why? He would never ******* ever .. understand females. They push you away, you come back.. You’re being oppressive. They insult you, push you away.. And you stay away, and they set about destroying your things. There was no winning. ****. There was not even a truce.

Linking his hands together, resting them in front of him, Doc looked evenly at Elizabeth. “One may be under the impression, that had -already occurred-, due in no small part, to the lovely ‘**** you.. **** you again’ letter that one received. Or did one misunderstand them point of the missive?”

Elizabeth: Yes, her letter had been unkind, but he had been equally unkind, in her eyes. And that reminder had both sets of bathroom faucets turning on and running simultaneously as she sat across the bar from him. “And is a woman not allowed to pass along a lovely ‘**** you,’ in return to an offered ‘**** you’ first?” Her eyes bounced from Doc, to the couple gawking at them, before she flashed them an apologetic smile. “I found a beetle of sorts in my salad last week here. I believe it was a...cockroach?” She feigned horror, as the couple got up and abruptly left.

“The point,” She hissed under her breath, “Was that one did not set up a pre-arranged time or date for a great while, in regards to our...plans. And instead of sending me a proper missive, I received a voicemail. A voicemail! Without an apology to boot. As if one was merely a passing thought, or an accidental one. And I--” The sound of toilets flushing repetitively flushing echoed throughout Yin as Elizabeth caught her train of thought. “I am more than a mere passing thought or an accidental one, Charles.” Her voice raised slightly so that she may over-speak the sounds of the toilets flushing.

“I simply expected...different from thee. More, perhaps. It was most unkind of thee to leave one wondering if the date would even transpire.” When her final thoughts were concluded, the bathroom faucets had instantly shut off in unison. “I understand that one has a great many other obligations and priorities, but I would not do such a thing to thee. I had expected the same, since we are...friends.” One by one, the toilets stopped their ensemble of rushing water, as her arms mirrored Doc’s own, her steely gaze having softened as she spoke. “Your actions were the epitome of an asshole...” Her eyes darkened as Elizabeth’s hands dropped into her lap, one hand smoothing down the fabric that covered her legs. “And more.” Elizabeth concluded as her eyes focused on him.

Re: The Opera (Elizabeth)

Posted: 31 May 2017, 00:14
by Elizabeth
Doc: As Elizabeth ran off the two customers he did have this evening, he didn’t let it bother him. He had run off more than her, not that he would let her know that. There had been that group of entitled fops, with their slicked up close cropped hair and their bushy beards, that he had set running. The last thing he wanted his place to become, was popular with that ******* **** for brains crowd.

Lifting an eyebrow as her barely veiled venomous hissing tirade, he listened without comment, letting her spew and spit at him, even as he heard the the sound of rushing water, coming from the restrooms. ******* great. He would have to close for a week while repairs were made. Compartmentalizing as he did, his pondered that it wasn’t such a bad thing to be closed, it would be a tax loss. Yes, not so bad after all.

When she finally subsided into a haughty silence, he looked at her for a long moment, his brow still raised, “So you are saying .. you did not believe me.. When I told you I was an asshole?” he nodded, “Now you know. And for record,” He voice wasn’t angry or even annoyed, it was matter of fact. “I sent a voicemail, because it -was- more personal than a cold flat unfeeling sheet of ******* parchment. I could have sent you a message”, he lowered his voice so George wouldn't overhear, “telepathically.. But I have been told that is rude and intrusive. So I didn’t. I suppose I could have sent you a letter every ******* day.. To say.. I have not secured the date yet. But then again I have been told, that is needy and overbearing. So I didn’t.”

He unlinked his hands and shoved them into his pants pockets. “I am who I am. I am not changing for you or anyone else. I tried that. It never worked. Accept me as I am .. or do not. It is your call. I am an asshole, to some people on purpose,.. To others.. Such as yourself, it was unintentional. I can apologize. But I am tired of trying to be something I am not.”


Elizabeth: She listened and then shook her head. “You wish to be who you wish to be, and that is fine...yet in the breath before, you are worried about being rude, intrusive, needy and overbearing.” Elizabeth leaned back in the stool, arms back upon the bar. “I cannot tell who it is you are. Are you Charles from the Christmas party? Charles from the art gallery, or Charles from last week Friday? It is unfair of thee to ask me to accept thee, when I do not know who or what it is I am accepting.” Her eyes squinted, as if observing him; attempting to understand him.

“What do you want? Who are you, Charles? You may be an asshole, but I have yet to see it. Mayhaps, I should have expected it, per your warning. I will heed your words more...carefully from here on out. I apologize for not doing as much from the beginning.” Elizabeth looked around the bar, sighed at the sight of the taps and then looked back at Doc. “I also apologize for the damages to your property. I will be glad to pay for the damages and anything else you deem appropriate.”

Very slowly, she extended her right hand to him, and offered a smile. “Good evening. My name is Elizabeth, but a good friend calls me, Lizzie. I am naturally a brunette, but have been blonde for...four years, I believe? When I was human, I was almost committed to an institution for attempting to kill my mother..and perhaps a few other things. I cannot recall the month in which I was born, or know the exact year. I have an extreme aversion to fire. There are many other things, but that is a glimpse of who I am, Charles. I do not mind assholes, so long as they are an honest asshole. I have known a fair few of them throughout the centuries. And lastly, I have never been to the Opera, but I am hopeful that I may experience one soon. That is, if one is interested in such a thing.”

Doc: His eyes narrowed as she spoke. In one tirade she calls him the epitome of an asshole, and then only moments later she says she has yet to see it. Doc turned and gave George a look, that said ‘get lost’, to which, George did not hesitate. He wanted out of there, forthwith.

Doc waited until George was gone to respond. He understood her meaning at the ‘introduction’. She wished to start again, and he was willing, yet she needed to understand things, from his point of view. “That was all me. Yet, all different aspects of me. But still me. I have never lied to you. I cannot promise that I will never forget. I cannot say that I will not become preoccupied with a new thought. I cannot, because I am very apt to do so. But please, know, that should I become preoccupied with a new thought, it is not a detriment to you.. Or anyone. It is my desire to learn. To find new things that can be used to secure our kind’s future.” He paused.


“I know.. It all very dubious.. And easily said, with very little to show for the words. And that I cannot help. I am trying to make inroads with humans, and vampires alike. Both are very hard going. When a thought strikes me.. I act on it, if I think it will further my goal. I can be single minded and forget things that mean much to me.” He smirked ruefully, “I am not proud of it. But after 52 years.. I have finally realized as much as I want to be different, it is easier said than done.”

As she extended her hand and gave him a list of things, good, bad and indifferent about her, he took the proffered hand, inclined ever so slightly toward her, “I am Charles, most call me Doc. I am an arrogant elitist ******** that amuses himself at the cost of others. I am easily misunderstood, and have decided those that prefer to believe the worst of me,.. May do so at their pleasure. Those so easily swayed are not worth my time; but those I deem worth my time, I will defend with all my being.”


Elizabeth: There was a moment of surprise within her features when Doc mentioned securing the future for ‘our kind.’ There had been little mention of such things in certain online forums, and so, the woman had resigned herself to the thought that he, like many others, had decided the task at hand may be larger than anticipated. Or any other scenario, in which it would not come to fruit. If he had decided against pursuing that avenue, Elizabeth felt no particular way about it. There had been fleeting moments of ‘hope,’ perhaps, when the idea had passed through his lips months ago, but it was normally not in her nature to judge one’s inability to follow through with things, unless it tied in with her feelings.

“It is very nice to meet thee, Charles.” Elizabeth could accept the idea of Doc being a ********, as she believed it tied in with the idea of being an asshole. As for his idea of being an elitist, while some saw that title as a negative aspect, Elizabeth felt slightly different. If someone had qualities about them that were superior (and she believed he did), then those should be recognized as strengths and utilized (if they could be). And as for him being ‘arrogant,’ she was aware of that notion since their evening at the art museum. He had professed as much with a potential characteristic...sociopath, if she remembered correctly.

“I understand your stance and predicament more clearly now.” She could not fault someone for desiring to learn more things, or new things when it struck them. It would be hypocritical of her, in theory. When she returned from the realms after being trapped for centuries, Elizabeth had taken to learning things that took her fancy at ‘whims.’ That was what some referred to it as. As if it were something to look down at her upon. And with her ever growing interest, she could perhaps see herself in Doc’s shoes. Finding those who believed she cared less about them because her interests were pulled elsewhere for weeks, or months at a time. It was hardly the case, but they desired to believe what they wanted to be, which had Elizabeth losing track of a great many of her childre. She knew how many she had sired and how many remained within the city, or part of her life and it was less than ten percent.

“And...in saying that, I shall remember that time, in all instances is not linear. And what is forgotten or missed, does not mean they will remain forgotten or missed.” Elizabeth leaned forward, as if sharing a secret, yet the tone in her voice did not fluctuate to indicate there was much of a secret. “It is unfair to be angry with someone, when I too have been known to lose track of time and people for the same reasons.” In fact, very recently, Elizabeth had found herself losing track of time, as she studied books on something that had piqued her interests lately. Since she had no luck in finding a teacher that would work with her at night time, Elizabeth had surmised that she would have to teach herself, since learning such a thing in her household had been forbidden for her; being a female and all. “And finally, I am most sorry for calling thee...a dick. It was unsavory of me, as I see that nothing you have done has been out of malice or spite.” Regardless to what Traci had suggested, things...Doc did not need to know about. “I would very much like to make it up to thee somehow.”

Doc: She wanted to make it up to him. But really, he should be thanking her for seeking him out. He would not have tried to the set things right. Perhaps it was his pride or arrogance, that made him so set in certain reactions. How many times had he told others, that communication was to key to correcting most things, and yet when it was up to him to facilitate that very same type of communication, he turned his back on it. “You have no need to make anything up to me. I apologize for being too willing to let silence rule, instead of having an open dialogue.”

Frowning, he sighed. “This instance does do not bode well for my plans for the future.” He looked at her “How am I to have an open a dialogue with vampires that oppose me or what I stand for, when I cannot have an open dialogue with a friend?” He raked a hand through his hair, his frown becoming more puzzled. “So for clarity sake, you were angry with me because I left a voicemail instead of writing you? Because you feel that a voicemail is disrespectful?.. Right? So is is safe to say, you prefer emails?”

The question was not asked to be funny, or joking, it was an honest question. One which he expected a honest answer to. It was a difficult thing, figuring out females. One female wants to have a voicemail, or a text.. Not an email, emails are impersonal. Another wants a phone call, even if she refuses to pick up. She expected people to call until she deigned to take the call. And now Elizabeth wants an email, because voicemail is deemed an after thought. He pondered how she felt about texts..?

The Chain preferred to use telepathy, but Doc personally found that invasive and disruptive. If he found it disruptive, no doubt others did too. The Chain thought nothing of screaming in his head as the least little thing, any time of the day or night. Usually when she had been shot. He should be thankful that she had been quiet of late. Perhaps, he should ask about telepathy as well?


Elizabeth: “It is a learning experience.” Elizabeth said as she stood up and moved around the bar to stand besides Doc. “It is good such an experience has happened now, instead of later. When things will be weighed far more heavier than they are between us.” She crossed her legs at her ankles, allowing both her elbows to find the bar as a sort of prop. “Yes. And no.”

Elizabeth admitted, before sighing, then turning towards the bar to busy herself with...something. Empty glasses were grabbed; clean ones, before Elizabeth moved around Doc and started stacking them into the dishwasher. “I went shopping for a dress for our...event, and met a woman. Traci. She worked there.” Elizabeth glanced over to Doc, as she moved around him once again and grabbed a few more glasses. “I became confused with what she was saying. Implying. People of today talk too fast, or talk just to hear the sound of their own voice, I think.” Elizabeth continued while moving around him once again.

“We were discussing the reason of needing the dress and she had claimed such an event was...a date.” Another glass was put into the dishwashing machine, eyes on Doc as she said that, but continued. “She asked what colour one would be wearing with your suit and I could not answer the question and one thing led to another and she said-implied...things. It is not just because of the voicemail, but the uncertainty of if the event was actually going to happen. Traci seemed to imply it would not.” The dishwasher was closed and secured with that final thought, before she added on, “I prefer face to face, as one knows, but in the event such a thing is not possible, I prefer the more direct approach. Emails can be lost, phone calls can be missed...I do not find the ways of the telepath, but perhaps that is because it is who I am. But I find it not rude, or invasive.” She commented with a lift of her shoulders. “That method, to me, makes it impossible for error and miscommunication.” Elizabeth reclaimed a spot against the bar, her right arm lying flat upon it as she looked at Doc from the side. “Perhaps it had more to do with me, and Traci, than you.”

Doc: “Yes and no” She had said. That simple set of syllables gave him an ominous feeling. Doc watched her go about straightening and cleaning. He almost told her she did not need to bother, but he chose to remain silent as she started to explain about her shopping experience. And then the penny dropped. As she explained that the sales girl inferred the event wouldn't happen, Elizabeth took that to heart. It had been several days.. No. He recalculated, it had been weeks, since he had spoken to her. She had no word for him, about the day, the time, or even if he had secured the tickets. She had been preparing for an event that may not have come to pass, and the sales girl knew it before she did. He winced. Yes, this would explain her ire. No one likes to be taken for a fool and since she had, had no word from him, he could very well imagine she felt used.

Then she broached the subject of telepathy. She found it to be useful, not invasive or intrusive. He used telepathy at times, usually with Chub and The Chain, but rarely with anyone else. Usually it was a one off thing, due to not being able to speak openly. The truth of the matter was, he was not comfortable with telepathy. He was very private about his thoughts, and there was that doubt in the back of his mind that someone who was more adept at telepathy than he himself was, could possibly see more than he wished them to be able to see. He didn’t understand the ability well enough to trust that someone could not invade his thoughts without his knowledge. This would be a matter of trust.

Nodding slowly, Doc conceded, “If telepathy is what you would prefer, I will oblige.” It was bold step for him. Even though he and Chub conversed with telepathy, he made it abundantly clear to her, she was to keep out of his head. She tried to play it off as no big deal, but he had been adamant. She was not to dig around his memories. And now he was give Elizabeth permission. How much did he really know about her? It was always in the back of his mind, that everyone at someone point in time would eventually turn on him. So to give this permission was like opening himself up for attack, if she had nefarious plans. Hopefully, if that proved to be the case, he wouldn't be blindsided.

Changing the subject away from his darker thoughts, he added, “It is a pity that you have other plans, however it is to be expected since I did not confirmed the date with you earlier.” Then he decided to be an ***, “And it was going to be a date.” In one of the definitions of the word, it was a date. A social event. But he didn’t offer that as his meaning.

Re: The Opera (Elizabeth)

Posted: 03 Jun 2017, 01:59
by Doc
Elizabeth: He would attempt to indulge her when it came to her preference of communication. This would make things easier, in Elizabeth’s mind. Clear and concise as well. “Thank you.” Was all that was said, as Elizabeth made a move to go around the bar and reclaim the stool she had been upon earlier in the evening when she first arrived. Unlike Doc, Elizabeth did not share in those fears-perhaps once upon a time she had. Even when the woman first returned from the realms...Staus had been a worthy adversary in regards to the ways of a Telepath, but he had not been seen in years to Elizabeth’s knowledge. And if anyone knew her secrets, they either did not care, or were keeping them for a night in which they would be useful. The truth was, it was probably the former, instead of the latter.

She had only made it around him when Doc started speaking again. She tilted her head to the side, facing him, blue irises upon him as she listened to what he had to say next. The woman nodded, agreeing that it was a pity about her plans, before those blue eyes flicked over Charles as he mentioned the event would have been a date. Doc, was a difficult one to read and understand, but that only added to the appeal he had, in Elizabeth's mind.

She hadn't lied when Elizabeth informed Doc that she was busy that night. But, perhaps she over indulged on the idea of being busy, for what she had planned would take an hour at most, her thrall ensured her. Elizabeth finished moving around Doc, but decided against returning to her seat. Instead, she was beside him once again, only on the opposite side. “Indeed. The dress was perfect for an Opera, I was assured.” Elizabeth conceded, nodding once again. “I had plans with my thrall on Friday. He is a business major at the University and he was going to assist me with my books for one of my businesses. The daily profits are fluctuating too much for things to be coincidental...” Yes, Elizabeth had her suspicions on who the person may very well be behind those fluctuations. “Perhaps, another Opera, or another...date.” The telepath surmised, offering Charles a smile as Elizabeth finally started making her way around the bar.

“Unless...It may be possible to do both-or even rearrange my schedule for this...event.” Elizabeth had put a lot of faith in enthralling the college Junior, hoping his business smarts would suit her current needs. “I doubt he would mind.” The dutch student wouldn't, Elizabeth already knew this, as he was her thrall and if she pressed her opinions and desires upon him, she would come out the victor. “That is, if one is still interested in the show, and the date?” She gracefully found the stool with a swing of her arm that flattened the back of her dress, prior to, eyes upon Doc.

Doc: Doc gave her a somewhat indulgent smile. “I am going regardless. I enjoy the opera. I enjoy the story that is told through the music. And these are stories that were written at a time, before man had electricity, running water and effective medicine.” He canted his head to the side, “All the hardships that the authors of these operas endured as a day to day way of life, and they managed to produce such evocative stories that last to this day.”

Pausing Doc leaned against the bar. “If you have made plans, it would churlish of me to demand you rearrange your schedule. It becomes a teaching moment.. And learning moment. I need to learn to not wait until the last moment to tell you.. Or anyone the date of an event.” He shrugs, “I have a bad habit of prioritizing things for my benefit. And my priority, is not always the same priority of someone else.”

Doc linked his fingers together, as he leaned on his elbow. “I am agreeable to make plans for a future opera. I do enjoy them; and you may find you do not. They are not everyone’s forte. I understand this.”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth nodded her head, somewhat expecting that answer. He had tickets, and why should they go to waste? Especially since Charles had admitted to her that he rather liked this particular one. She laughed lightly, then teased, “So, you enjoy watching people suffer in the stories?” Elizabeth knew what Doc was getting at, but she knew first hand that while it was interesting to compare life then, to life now, and all the advances that had been made, people did, in fact suffer often from various things.

“And yes, it would be unsavoury to expect one to rectify their plans under short notice.” She agreed with his train of thought initially, then added on, “But, one has not demanded such a thing, have they?” She inquired, leaning into the bar. “And so, if I decide to go, then it would be of my own accord, yes?” Her legs crossed at her ankles, while her blue irises looked him in the face. “Perhaps, that is something we can discuss later in the evening. The possibility of securing a different date, for a different opera, should my plans well and truly be unable to be changed.” Her shoulders lifted into a light shrug, before Elizabeth glanced around the bar and its vacancy. “Does one have plans for this evening?” Her arms crossed over the other, as her gaze settled upon Charles, curious of the events he had planned for the rest of the night.

Doc: “Suffer?” Doc thought for a long moment. For the music and words to be so evocative, there had to be a certain amount of pain and suffering. He looked at her, canted his head to the side somewhat, “Interesting point of view, I never thought of it in quite that manner before. So.. in some sense of the word, yes.. I do enjoy watching them suffer.” He then smirked crookedly, “But I also know.. It isn’t real. It is acting.”

Nodding, at her mention of plans being set, he completely understood. She wasn’t promising, and he was not to expect her. Yet, if she happened to find herself free.. She might .. possibly.. show up. “I will leave the ticket in your name at the “Will Call” window, in case, things allow it to be added to your schedule.” At her next question, he grinned openly.

“Do I have plans?” He lifted an eyebrow, and gave her a knowing look, “You are such a tease. You know quite well that I have plans.. You, in your magnanimous spirit, so generously arranged them for me. How could I in good conscience ignore them after all the effort you went to?” He shrugged off his jacket, and moved behind the bar, looking for, and finally finding an apron. “I will be cleaning soda off the walls, counters, and floors.” He gave her a cheeky grin, “Once I am happy with that.. I will then go into the restrooms,.. To see what other delights you provided for me..” He snorts in an amused fashion while giving her a look, “Do I have plans.. ?”

Elizabeth: Her lips quirked in amusement, eyes still upon Doc as he started getting ready for the clean-up process of her doing. “Yes, well...it is always important to let one know that they are upon your mind, however you can.” Elizabeth offered with a high rise of both her shoulders, the pull of a smirk still upon her lips. “What I was meaning to ask, was...is there room for another in your predetermined plans for the evening? I did, in my human years, run a household. With a child to boot.” She pointed out, glancing to the top of the bar and the walls behind it. “Let me have the counter and walls. Then, one could mop and the time will pass quicker as will the cleaning process.” She offered as Elizabeth leaned over the counter to grab a damp cloth up from the sink she had seen while on the other side. “In fact, I insist.” She thought about the ticket in which he would leave for her, still debating on rearranging her schedule just a little bit to accompany him, while Elizabeth made herself busy with moving around the bar once again.

“Your problem, with the humans is not all that difficult, by the way.” Elizabeth offered, circling back to his desire to be part of human and vampire politics. “If one does not mind me saying as such.” She said quietly as Elizabeth grabbed a glass, pressed it to the lip of the counter and started wiping the water and soda into it.

Doc: He was in the midst of rolling up his shirt sleeves as she told him she intended to help him. Doc gave her a cheeky grin. He wanted to tell her she bloody well should help him, but he knew in this instance, his remaining mute on the subject would be the wisest course of action, apart from bowing slightly, and saying, “If you insist, I will not gainsay you.”

He began mopping up the pooled mixture of soda and water on the counter, attempting to sweep the bulk of the liquid into the sink. When Lizzie mentioned ‘humans’ and his problem with them, he paused and looked over his shoulder at her, thinking she meant George, his bartender manager. “George isn’t a problem. He is actually quite affable.” Turning back to the task at hand, he worked at cleaning the mess, “He was noticeably shaken by tonight events, but in all honesty, I think he handled it rather well. He has been a bartender for years. He has probably seen worse.”

Doc rinsed the bar towel in hot water, and once it had been wrung out, he started on another portion of the counter top. “It will simply be a matter of informing him, the event would be best not to be spread about, as it would be bad for business. He likes tips. If the reputation is bad, tips are bad. So I don’t believe he will be a problem at all.”


Elizabeth: Elizabeth listened to what Doc was saying, without interruption, while she did the same as Doc did with her towel-the difference being the liquid would land within the large beer glass. Only when he stopped talking, did she speak her mind. “No, not George.” She said slowly, before expanding. “The one in regards to your political agenda, Charles.” She brought a large puddle of soda and water to the edge, and pushed it into the cup. “Mortality works for, and against them. They are driven by it-the fear of it ending, and missing out on things due to their short lifespan…” Elizabeth moved to dump the glass that was near full into the sink and then turned to face him. “Mayhaps, one should focus on that aspect in a sense. The wendigo are a much bigger threat to them, than we are to them.” She thought so, regardless to what the city rumours said and seemed to imply. “What if one were to shift the attention off of us, and on to them? Use...what is the word?” She thought for a moment, before moving away and continuing to wipe any liquid off the counter. “Media. Newspapers, television, the internet. Whatever one has to, to play upon their fears and their mortality.” She set the washcloth down, gave him a glance and waited to hear his opinions on the matter.

Doc: Doc paused as she spoke, once she said it was his agenda she spoke of. He stared at the counter top as he listened to her. He could agree with her in that.. Except. It only took one hot head to rile up a mob. Then mob mentality took control. He turned to face her, “We have the ability to turn a mob on someone.. Why is that do you think? Because they are ruled by fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the known. Whether it is true or not. It is the fear of ‘what if’.

“It is that .. fear of ‘what if’ we need to protect against. Yes the I agree. The Wendigo are far more a threat than we are. But the Wendigo aren’t openly known .. as we are. And that is the reason we need protection under human law.” He sighed. “I realize it is a moot point. An uprising could happen regardless. But as long as we have the law on our side.. Some of us.. Probably not many .. but a few of us have a chance for survival.

“Until humans are harmed by the Wendigo.. They will not be seen as a threat.” Doc leaned back against the counter and crossed his arm as he looked at her. “Have you heard of even one Human harmed by the Wendigo? I haven't. But Vampires.. Open the Sun newspaper.. Every week there is an article that puts us in a bad light. It is a ******* gratuitous rumor rag, but people read it. And I have yet to see anything in the news about the Wendigo.

“If it isn't in the news.. How are we supposed to use it as a threat?” He genuinely wanted an answer. “What do we have to do.. To make the humans focus on that .. before us?”


Elizabeth: Everything he said was taken into careful consideration and there was an understanding. Elizabeth was no stranger to the concept of a mob mentality-it was how a great many of elders saw their demise centuries ago. On one hand she could agree that a mob was a chaotic and hazardous concept, but on the other...if channeled correctly, then it could be a useful tool as well. Controlled chaos would be needed, and that was a very slim chance. The mention of the ‘Sun’ Newspaper received a quick eye roll from Elizabeth, the woman none too thrilled with the writer and her attempts to blackmail the kindred for whatever means and reasons. “That, is because the owner is hell bent on making us look that way. It is a slanderous mission of madness that woman is upon and it is by some grace of some power that be, that she has not been killed yet.” There was not a drop of remorse or second thought that came from Elizabeth as she spoke those words…

“However, she may have in some ways...inspired some, or paved the way to a new agenda. Why has someone not made it a priority to highlight what the Wendigo are or are not doing? The human gangs? Surely, while she will continue to focus upon us, should we not focus on those other things? Take a page from her agenda, purchase a newspaper and highlight things that show vampires in positive ways, and other things within the city that...simply are not, or cannot be positive. That is what we must do to counter her.” Elizabeth said flatly, offering both positive and negative solutions to the problem(s) at hand. “Cover stories on vampires who are willing, mind, doing things for the city. For the ‘greater good,’ if you will...While on the other hand...focus on other creatures within the city that are a danger or hazard. Do you not know anyone who would be willing to embark on such an adventure? Be it online, or hard copy?” Once again, the started cleaning the top of the counter with the rag. “Perhaps the idea may need some fine tuning, but I find it difficult to believe that the wendigo have not done something...somewhere. That we are the only potential danger within the city.” She dumped another cup of liquid into the sink, then moved to the walls behind the bar and began wiping those down.

Doc: Doc’s first thought about the newspaper was positive, but then he started thinking through iterations. As he thought through those iterations, he frowned. “Although it does seem like a positive way to proceed, it could very well do more harm than good.” He paused as he once more rinsed the cloth out. “It would take no time at all for a someone such as Mona McGee to find out who owned and was her rival. The woman is not above blackmail. Trust me I know. She has been on my **** list for a while now.” he smiled to himself. “She is pregnant you know.. Soon her vulnerabilities will become double.. If not triple.” Infants were not hard to snuff the life out of. A man’s hand over the mouth and nose.. It would take no more than three minutes, and another one falls to ‘sudden infant death syndrome’. Mona would know. Doc smile widened. Yes, he had plans for Ms. Mona Mcgee.

“But as I was saying. It would not take much effort for someone to ferret the truth out about who owned the new newspaper who favored Vampires. Then the conspiracy theories would abound. Vampires are trying to blind humans, to the facts. Vampires are making up ‘fake news’ to scare humans.” He shook his head and he started scrubbing down the cabinets fronts. “Instead of being fear mongers, doomsayers, someone.. Unfortunately, some human will have to hurt in order for the word to get out. Hurt by their own actions, and not manufactured by Vampires.”

They worked in silence for several moments, before he spoke up again, “As much as I was hoping to garner more support for this mission, it seems if it is going to be pushed forward, I will simply have to do it, and hope it picks up momentum. “


Elizabeth: His cause for concern was understood and an angle in which Elizabeth had thought of, but believed that the right person...the right face could pull something off where it did not seem so heavily biased. But, Elizabeth could reckon that Doc knew more about the way in which people thought and acted given he was a doctor and had not been ‘reborn’ for lack of a better word, just over a handful of years ago. “I am aware of Miss McGee and her antics, but not the latter.” Unlike Doc, Elizabeth had quarrel with Mona and not her offspring(s). If she were to do anything to the woman that had attempted to blackmail her, it would be her and not her children. It was perhaps the only area of her life she would not touch...in some respects. Perhaps a call to child services every now and again...but anything more menacing against children was not her forte.

“Yes...I see the cause for concern….but perhaps a newspaper online whose IP bounced all over the world?” Elizabeth mused to herself, though it was spoken aloud. Perhaps something she would look into on her own. “No matter.” She dismissed the idea from the table of possibilities for him, believing Doc found such a thing too risky for the time being. Minutes of silence passed between them, before Charles stated something she had been waiting to hear come from him since their last discussion about politics. “Well, you have my support, perhaps Wendell’s, was it?” She inquired with a tip of her head, still wiping down the wall. “I believe in time, when things are progressing, there will be more. Now, where will you begin?” She asked, moving to the sink to dampen the cloth, and reclaim a wall with it, while Elizabeth waited to hear where Doc would build his foundation.

Re: The Opera (Elizabeth)

Posted: 03 Jun 2017, 02:01
by Elizabeth
Doc: Doc paused in his cleaning to turn and give her a genuinely appreciative look, “Thank you Lizzie. That means quite a bit to me.” He cleared his throat, as he once more turned his attention to the cabinet doors. “Community dialogue. I had hoped to have a face that could be the .. spokesperson or logo.. So to speak. A face that could be seen as impartial, well meaning, and transparent. However, in thinking it through, that is a lot to ask of someone. They would be become a target of anyone.. Vampire or human, that disagreed with the plan of having vampires recognized legally.” He scrubbed a bit harder than he needed to.

“How can I ask someone else to be the face of my agenda? That’s being a ******* coward.” He was silent for a long while as he cleaned. “I tried to tell myself, it was because a more politically correct face would help the cause more. By helping the cause, it helped all vampirekind. So it was justified. But .. as hard as it is to admit.. If you believe in something, you need to stand up for it. So I have decided, I am going to move forward without a face.”

Doc chuckled. It was a sarcastic and cynical chuckle, “It could very well send me to the Fade.. but maybe the cause needs a martyr. Right?” He rinsed the cloth again, “It isn’t for me.. That I want this.” He looked at Lizzie. “It is for the quiet, unassuming, play by the rules, vampires that do not deserve to be painted as vile, contemptible monsters that some of us are.” And he knew that by ‘some of us’ he meant himself. Others did not need to be branded because of him. It wasn’t a sentimental reason. It was a matter of pride. The majority of Vampires were honest law abiding citizens. They had no clue how what evil really was; and he wasn’t about to share that title with anyone who did not deserve it.

Elizabeth: People; vampires or humans needed support, especially when it was something that they wanted to do. Not so much needed, as in people knew they needed to go to school these days to get better paying jobs. Wanted. Something they were passionate about, for whatever reason. And, she could offer that support in vocal, perhaps monetarily, or other ways, if she could get behind the idea. And this was one that she had told him, needed to be done. Elizabeth nodded her head, indicating she heard his appreciation, but she had not been looking for it when Elizabeth stated what she had. Someone needed to do what he was doing-what he proposed because it could be good for the community.

“Hopefully, it will not come to such a thing.” Elizabeth said, eyes on him as she finished wiping down the section of wall she had ‘claimed’ without speaking a word. “It surprises me that you feel that whatever it is you are doing does not have a face…” She looked at him pointedly, before adding on. “One may not be transparent, that is true...but from what I have seen and heard...are any politicians transparent? Do we know anything and everything that this mysterious ‘Administrator’ person is doing? People claim they like transparency, but that is only true in the case in which the transparency aligns with their own desires or goals.”

Doc: The laugh that escaped from him, said it all. It was a full bodied laugh. “Baby.. Really? You cannot be that naive? Politicians pay people to clean things up. Make people that won't shut up,.. Disappear.” He scrubbed and snickered silently to himself. “I wanted true .. authentic .. transparency. Not what politicians call transparency. My idea of transparency is someone dredging everything up.. And still finding .. nothing to be seen in a negative light.”

Doc grimaced, “Not that it is easy to dredge items up… but with money and resources behind you, most people can find damning and incriminating **** against anyone. It could be as innocent as a food fight in school. But the right PR team can twist into a the most heinous act against the most innocent in the room. Then all you need is a few photos of this .. innocent crying, and you have the unwashed masses on your side.”

Standing up he looked at her, and nodded, “Thank you for the help cleaning the bar area.” He looked past her to the restrooms. Squaring his shoulders, “However.. Now it is time for me to brave the latrines and deal with the excrement therein.” He drew himself up to his full height. He held a hand out to her, a gesture that said “no stop”. “This is my torch to bear… “

Doc then braved the Men’s Room. All he saw was water for the most part. The relief he felt was palpable. Thank god.. Or whomever.. That most patrons avoided the restrooms.

Elizabeth: True transparency. Elizabeth doubted a single person in the world had nothing to hide. Not even she, could claim that there were not things hidden, or tucked away somewhere. Case in point...her Begonia’s were hiding a ‘couple’ of things. She sighed, then watched the display Charles put on in regards to the toilets. Who knew just what was in there, but hopefully, nothing more than some standing water. But...who could say?

If he did not want, nor require her services within the bathrooms, Elizabeth would make use of her time elsewhere. After she washed and dried her hands, the telepath found her way to the piano and took a slow seat upon the bench. Her fingers came to rest upon the keys as she closed her eyes and thought about the song in which she could play to pass the time and process her thoughts. Chopin’s ‘Spring Waltz’ began to play, while she left Doc to his own devices within the bathroom. True transparency was...dangerous. Surely, Charles had thought of this. Had to know this. Was this what concerned him and the reference to the fade? Just...what had he potentially done? It was a dangerous predicament he was placing himself within-if he went fully forward.

Well, if he wanted complete transparency with the masses, it was best to start here and now, in her mind. Her fingers kept playing the keys, but barely touched them. Just enough to keep the song going within her mind, as she posed a heavy question for him through means of telepathy. “What is the absolute worse thing that one has ever done? Are you ready to speak of that, should that come back to haunt thee one night in the very near future?”


Doc: She spoke into his mind as he found a mop and started pushing the water to the floor drain, he replied in kind, ~Fair enough.. Let me rephrase.. The appearance of true transparency..~ He paused as he put his thoughts in order. The act of mopping turned out to be the perfect foil for his thinking. While he performed the tasks that required little thought, he could focus on and expound his idea to Lizzie.

~We .. vampires, need to give the appearance of true transparency. I know full well we do not need undue digging in our backgrounds. However playing the same game Mona McGee plays would cause some parties to dig and delve where there does not need to be any digging. If Vampires are found to be trying to influence the populace by way of a newspaper, or radio, Scrutiny would increase and we could find ourselves against an outraged public. There are quite a few things that we need to keep under wraps from humans. Namely the wide variety of powers we have at our disposal. But it will only be a matter of time before the extent of our powers become known.

~This is why, I do not think we can wait. We need to secure protections under the law, sooner rather than later.~ Doc moved from one rest room to the other. Again he was relieved that the mess was merely water.


Elizabeth: His thoughts easily made its way into her mind and didn’t disrupt anything in which she was playing. The appearance of transparency. She could agree and even relate, but there was a small sliver of concern within Elizabeth’s mind. The potential recourse should humans discover that they were portraying a false image. It was a lot like the premise of the Masquerade, however, now that they were known and ‘outed,’ there was no pretending.They could not pretend anymore, could they?

”I agree, still...I am hesitant on some fronts. The portrayal is an idea, not far removed from the Masquerade, but we had not so many that were careless, as there are now...How do you believe we could go about such things? This sounds like a legal matter, of sorts, yes? She pressed her lips into a thoughtful, thin line, before her fingers struck the last chord to the song, causing the woman to lean back. Forgive me. One thing at a time. Community-kindred community, that is...is where we shall begin. I am thinking too many steps ahead. Let us just get through the most difficult part-the dregs within our community.’ Elizabeth stood, inched around the piano bench and then pushed it in slowly. ”I should leave thee to it...and this. You have enough upon your plate, without unnecessary additives. Do let me know when you are planning the community event?’’

Doc: The mopping up was going well. It was tedious, but nothing that caused any true issue. It progressed that much better having the conversation he was having. Another person to offer objections or scenarios that he had not thought of. ~In July. Mortll has agreed to allow me to use her private area. This one will be the opening salvo so to speak. To tell me what the community is thinking, how they feel, if i will have support, and if anyone else is willing to help.~

Doc exited the restroom, and pulled a chair over by the piano. He spun it around to sit backwards on it, crossing his arms and resting them on the back of the chair. “I took care of the worst. I think George can handle the remnants. I will call him and have a disaster clean up crew come in, to cross the t’s and dot the i’s.” He grinned at her, “No offense. I am not saying your help wasn’t sufficient. It’s classified as an eating establishment. I need someone else on the hook, should a patron ever get sick.”

“Going back to your thought of a ‘portrayal’, that is precisely what I am hoping the community will agree to. We as a community are only as strong as our weakest member.” He sighed, “I do not want to demand obedience. I want to hope that they all agree that keeping some things.. Back from common knowledge is just a wise move.”


Elizabeth: The month of July was tucked away and a reminder had been set within her calendar application on her phone, for the first of the month with Doc’s name and Mortll’s private area as a location. It would serve as a tool for any of her future planning. It was a good place to start and Elizabeth would make sure that she attend; she had more or less instigated this drive of Doc’s. He had asked her-though he may have asked others too. Still, she would see this out in whatever capacity she could, until things began to flourish, or he abandoned the idea for whatever reason.

When he sat, she moved to the side of the bench and sat, facing him. “I am not so easily offended. I would expect nothing else from thee.” Elizabeth had always perceived Charles to be a thorough individual, so him hiring anyone to make sure every inch of the place had been cleaned hardly offended her. She would do the same when it came to her businesses.

“Has one thought of the other side of the coin? Those that do not feel the same as the majority?” It was a fair point to ask, which may lead into other tricky discussions. “People will ask. If things are agreed upon by the mass...what happens to those that go against the grain?” Her blue irises flicked to him, as the heavy question was laid upon his feet.

Doc: Had he thought of the other side of the coin? Yes. And to be honest, he almost welcomed the unseemly outcome. The other side of the coin he saw, was one where the vampire community dissolved once more into us versus them. If that became the case, there would be no point to go any further. The humans would have won, by the oldest of methods, divide from within.

This is what caused the masquerade to be breached in the first place. Vampires that sired irresponsibly, then failed to teach, what would be expected. This millennial generation of youth, that wanted to be the catalyst for change.. Well now they had it. Vampires are real. And .. Vampires were that much closer to the next holocaust. Had he thought about the other side of the coin? Oh yes. That was also another reason why he had Cyril. A business manager that assumed all aspect of running the business, so that Doc could eventually become.. Forgotten. Lost to the obscurity.

He smiled ruefully at her, “If that happens, we will all need an exit strategy, and multiple safe houses.” His smile widened, “Do you have an exit buddy?”

Elizabeth: There was a long pause with no answer, which had her wondering if she had just made Doc think of something he had not. There was a smile of sorts, offered in her direction, before a few words she had not anticipated. It made sense, but it seemed...final. Which may be just what they, as a species were facing. A point of no return. Perhaps, that was why there was the absence of the Crow. She did not want to go down with a sinking ship, so to speak.

Safe houses, Elizabeth was no stranger to the concept. She had a couple-one in the States and one in Europe. She had purchased them whilst traveling in the last year, simply because Elizabeth was uncertain if she would return to Harper Rock, and if she had, how long it would be for. “Not currently, no. If one means a thrall, Elise will be leaving for Paris soon. I have no one to replace her...yet. If one means a vampire, I believe most of mine would be the ‘exit buddy’ to their significant other.” Her shoulders raised high, then dropped sharply. “Hopefully, it will not come to such a thing.” She smiled back at him, before glancing to the keys of the piano. “I guess we shall see at this community event in the future.” She was looking forward to it, for many reasons. “I think, perhaps, I shall leave thee to your evening. That way, I can give some serious thought to my...exit buddy.” Her eyes returned to look at Doc, as Elizabeth slowly stood. “Do remember to send me an invitation to your event.” Both hands moved to the side of her frame, smoothing the material of her dress, before stepping around the bench. “Sooner than later would help the cause. I may bring an extra ear...or two with advanced notice.”

Doc: As Lizzie stood, he too stood, it was manners that were ingrained in him, so it was almost second nature. “Thank you for .. “ He smirked, “well not the mess.. But for making me ..explain myself.” His smirk turned into a grimace. “I have trouble with that sort of thing.” The grin returned, “You make me .. no.. force me to be better. So thank you, Lizzie.”

Doc moved his chair out of the way, so she would have an easy egress to the exit. Since she was ready to leave he wouldn’t hold her up, but he did offer her wink, “Exit buddies are very important. I myself, have not secured one either. There are candidates.. But The Chain.. I ,,no. She is far too unreliable. The Spawn,.. As you said with yours, they have their significant others. Perhaps another time, we can meet and discuss the merits of a good choice for an exit buddy. You know.. The pros and cons,, just in case..”

Walking her to the door, “I hope I see you on Friday. But if i do not, I understand. Have a good evening.”


Elizabeth: At the mention of the mess, she cracked a larger smile, then pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Her brows raised at what he was actually thanking her for, before her head tipped at Doc’s words. “You are most welcome, Charles…” The telepath thought back to what he had said earlier, then added on, “Be better...when and where it counts. That is the game of politics; be it from the early nights of Grecian senators, Roman Emperor who forged his destiny in battle, to one who is given power simply because of the family they are born into. What one does behind closed doors...is one’s own business.” She did not mind pushing someone, but only if they were receptive to being pushed.

Elizabeth heeded his input about exit buddies, and nodded. “Another time.” She agreed, letting Doc know that she was agreeable to the idea. His final train of thought was met with a thoughtful smile. “Friday, it is. I am looking forward to it, Charles.”