Anastasia laughs and floors it, finding the rhythm of the music infectious. “Of course you need a proper hat… ok, that’s reason #19 for mastering the art of bending wills like putty… naval battles on a whim…” she says, laughing at the thought of making up a new game to play the next time packs gather.
⋠Cian⋡ whoops out the window, which sounds more like the howl of some cave dwelling monster with his raspy voice. Pulling his head back into the car he headbangs to the music. His eyes gleam with a wild light as he imagines the sorts of trouble the pair can get up to tonight. “So we hitting that same club tonight or searching something new out?” Cian pulls down the
visor and looks in the mirror, studying his blue, scarred face, his ear now almost fully regrown. “Could use some suggestions on a face to use for the night too.”
Anastasia chuckles at seeing Cian’s unrestrained exuberance. She smirks as the wind whips through her artfully done hair and loses herself in the roar of the music and rush through the night, “someplace new, I think… and as for a face… hmm… why not play with handsome-ugly… rugged face, deep eyes you can loose yourself in… but maybe burned horribly on one side… tragic looking
⋠Cian⋡ nods at her words and stares at the mirror picturing the face in his mind. “Hmm…that shouldn’t be too hard to do I think. Already got scars to work with…alright lets see how we do.” A frown weighs on his face as he concentrates on the illusion. A few minutes later he looks over at Anastasia with his new face. The jaw line is strong as is the chin, eyes so
dark they are nearly black and high cheekbones that make them seem even deeper. The other side has burn scars which cover the cheek, ear, and part of the neck, coming just short of the eye, and ruining an otherwise perfect hairline on a head of thick black hair. It looks like the face of an artist, eyes full of tragedy but with a fire burning within. “How’s this?” Even his voice
sounds much better now, deep but soothing.
Anastasia is taken by the artistry of this new visage. Her eyes go a little wider even as she tips her head a bit to shadow them. “Ooo, perfect, really…” she muses then claps saying, “we HAVE to find a Firemen’s bar… bulk up a bit and you could be a brother on disability…” she offers up, smiling broadly as she imagines the mischief they could have. “They’ll Just /Love/ me… not being the open
minded type… usually,” she adds with a smirk.
⋠Cian⋡ grins and inspects the face again. “Hmm…well with the way I have these scars on here they look kinda fresh, maybe my guy lost a bunch of weight in the hospital? I’d hate to fuck up the face trying to mess with the body.” He nods and grins at Anastasia, “This is gonna be fucking hilarious. They’ll feel so guilty about my guy’s issue they’ll put up with damn near
anything from us.” A laugh shakes his chest, “Oh shit, better be from out of town though. I don’t know any firefighters or station numbers or the fuck ever they have so that’ll let us avoid questions I can’t answer.”
Anastasia nods, smiling as she enjoys this whole process of backstory building. Deception, to her, is a performance art, and like all art requires time, skill and inspiration. “Perfect, claim to be from Cali or something, we’re on a road trip on your side to get me away from ‘bad influences’ on mine because, ‘my brother needs some new reason to live or I don’t know what he’ll do..”
⋠Cian⋡ laughs and looks at her with soulful eyes. “I lost everything in that fire. Everything. My job, my girlfriend, my face. I don’t even know who I am now.”
Anastasia yelps, “YES!” Joyously then laughs wickedly saying, “just keep the country song that’s in your head playing as you talk to folks. ‘I was a Good Man, doing a Good Job, but that dang devil Fire burned it all to ashes and tears’,” she offers, spontaneously coming up with a lyric that’s half Johnny Cash, half Trent Reiner.”
⋠Cian⋡ makes a face, not a fan of country music, but he gets the point and nods. “Got it, this is gonna be fucking awesome.” He thinks a bit, staring into the mirror. “Now the whiskey is all that keeps me goin’. Even God ain’t by my side. Yeah that devil fire it took everything. Burned me in my soul and hide.” He puts on his best tragic face and holds it for a moment
before bursting into a fit of maniacal laughter. “This is too much fucking fun.”
Anastasia grins like a fiend, looking at Cian with new respect and delight. “Fucking A, partners in crime for life,” she promises then mmms, “I intend to begin the process of blood bonding a few of BR’s bravest…after a nosh or two,” she adds, letting her New York accent slip for a moment. “And you?” She asks, clearly a vampire who believes in having goals
⋠Cian⋡ frowns, thinking for a moment. “Can’t do it with this face but I need to get back in contact with some of my old acquaintences. Gangbangers I didn’t fucking despise and some pickpockets I used to hang with. Buncha street rats but we had our ears to the ground. For tonight…” He taps his face clearly unsure what to do. He wasn’t used to having much in the way of
power, which had led to not having much in the way of ambition either. “Hmm…some sympathetic and possibly bonded cops could be useful. Keep my other pawns out of trouble and get me a heads up when shit is about to go down.”
Anastasia thinks for a moment then adds, “maybe find out if any of your ganger friends turf has been going up in smoke… or if they’re looking to clear out ‘bad elements’ from the sorts of places that make for good safe houses and hide outs.l
⋠Cian⋡ nods approvingly. “Yeah…yeah that’s not a bad idea at all. This face changing shit is gonna be even more useful than I thought. I can rack in all sorts of favors and shit. Take out some assholes here, steal some shit there, and all the sudden we’ve got a fucking daytime hide out guarded by a bunch of gangers if we ever need it.” He grins wickedly and gives
Anastasia an evil look. “Not to mention cannon fodder.”
Anastasia beams Cian a bright smile as she pulls into a spot in-front of Happy’s Irish Pub, “you’re ready, my son,” she teases as she cuts the engine, checks her makeup, cleavage and outfit before slipping out of the car. “Here we go… oh, call me Lorelei tonight.., you should be “Mack” short for MacKenzie…” she adds as she walks toward the door of the bar,
⋠Cian⋡ makes no effort to hide the fact that he watches her adjust her cleavage, and gives her a serious nod as she gives his character a name. “Mack. Got it.” He takes a moment to center his thoughts, getting himself into character. He thinks about all the fucked up shit that happened in his childhood and puts on the same face he used when convincing social workers
that he was just a sad, depressed kid, not a borderline sociopath. “Lets get this over with Lorelei. I could have just drank at home.” He mutters as they enter the bar.
Anastasia is the ONLY Goth in the place, in fact the place has an almost aggressively ‘normal’ crowd. Most of them are fair skinned men and women with black or red hair. The men are fit and strong while the women are loud and rambunctious. Between the two of use, they mostly don’t know what to do with us, so Anastasia grabs your arm and pulls you to the bar. “We are NOT wasting another night in some dreary
hotel room killing little bottles of scotch,” She chides you with loving concern that belies the devil woman get up she is wearing.
⋠Cian⋡ sighs and shakes his head at her, pulling his collar up in a vain effort to conceal the facial scars. “You know I don’t like going out if I don’t have to, Lorelei. That ‘dreary’ hotel room has all access cable and a dvd player. You couldn’t have just watched a movie or something?” He sits down at the bar, placing his hands on the bartop and staring at them,
keeping his face low in his collar.
Anastasia sighs a long suffering sigh and rolls her dead eyes as if hearing that complaint for the millionth time. “I COULD, you’re right, but we’re on the road to see places, to go out and try things,” she whines in that special way little sisters do when correcting pigheaded brothers. The red headed bartender looks up to offer Cian a consolatory smile when she blinks, first at seeing his burn and then at
seeing his sister. “What yer poison?” She asks him, mostly covering up her confusion and nerves as she speaks with a hint of an Irish accent.
⋠Cian⋡ rolls his eyes at Anastasia, sighing and shaking his head and speaks to the bartender without looking up from his hands. “Whiskey. Neat. And keep them coming if you please, ma’am.” He looks over his shoulder at Anastasia. “Well, we’re here. Now what? There’s none of the screaming crap you call music playing, none of these men are wearing make up, and I doubt
anyone is high. So just what is it you think you want to do here?”
Anastasia pouts when neither the bartender nor her brother ask her for her order. When he gets snarky with her she leans in and smacks her brother across his solid bicep. “Maybe I’ll just look for a real gentleman who isn’t afraid to dance with the darkness inside,” she purrs seductively, with a dangerous air that draws attention to her. “Unlike you, you grumpy faced pain in my arse,” she complains, eyes
scanning the room looking for a brave guy or bad boy to rescue her from her current company. The bartender brings Cian a double and smiles at him saying, “you’ve the patience of a saint. Hi, I’m Mary,” in a hopeful tone.
⋠Cian⋡ takes the drink and holds it up to her as a sort of salute. “Mack. This bundle of sunshine is Lorelei. Mind helping to keep an eye on her? She’s a trouble magnet.” He grunts and tugs at the collar of his coat, almost like a safety blanket.
Anastasia is smiling at a fellow who looks like EXACTLY the type to bring trouble to any girl who gives him her heart. He notices her and has a lopsided smile on his face as he takes in how little she’s wearing and how her outfit screams, ‘you CAN’T take this one to momma’ and clearly sees a lot to like. Mary nods at Mack and clears her throat. “That one is Geordie, works at the 221… careful, he plays with
fire all the time,” she says to Lorelei, who slips out of her seat and walks towards him, not heeding the warning one bit. The two go off to the dance floor and are lost from view in the crowd. Mary smiles apologetically at Mack, sighing, “some follow the devils road, no.”
⋠Cian⋡ grunts and nods his head. “You’re telling me. This whole road trip is supposed to help get her to…ya know…stop, but I haven’t had much luck there.” He sighs heavily, and for the first time looks Mary in the eyes as soulfully as he can manage. “I’m her brother, she ain’t gonna listen to me. I just want her to get straight but…I don’t know what I can do.”
Anastasia dances with Geordie, swaying sinuously with him looking like the promise of sin and debauchery in ways that made men lustful and women envious. It takes no time for Geordie to pull her into the bathroom for some naughtiness, during which time she feeds on him and in return, gives him some of her vitae to begin the process of binding his soul to hers. Mary nods knowingly, “brigit, my youngest sister is like
her,” she says and reaches a hand out to squeeze Mack’s forearm comfortingly. “You can just love ‘em and always be there for them, no?” She asks with a gentle kind of empathy in her voice,
⋠Cian⋡ gives Mary a sad smile and nods. “You’re right, I just worry after her. She got in with a bad crowd back home. Can’t help but blame myself. I wasn’t around as much as I could have been and momma and dad well…they just didn’t know what to do with her.”
Anastasia borrows Goergie’s phone and texts Cade from it. [Baton Rouge tomorrow night? Miss you, Cadeepoo] she sends him, then erases the text and waits to see if he’ll respond. Then she slips out of the bathroom with her new beau, returning to the bar, but not near Mack, not to mess with his mojo. Geordie orders them shots of Jaeger which she pretends to down then let’s him pull her back onto the dance floor.
Mary smiles wanely at Mack. “You take on so much,” she sighs, leaning in a bit to better hear his words, her breasts thrust his way putting much of her cleavage on display. She pours him another drink, waving away payment as she says
“Who takes care of you?”
⋠Cian⋡ gives her a sad look and holds up the glass. “Just the whiskey ma’am. Just the whiskey.”
Anastasia’s trained ears pick up little bits of Mary and Mack’s conversation and she smiles with a deep seeded pride. Mary looks at Mack, losing herself in his dark eyes as her heart breaks for him making her gasp and lean in even closer and say, “nah right, that is… and it’s nae right anymore.” Her voice is softly pitched but resonant with emotion and promises he never asked for but she freely made.
⋠Cian⋡ bites the inside of his cheek, letting some blood flow into his mouth and then leans forward and kisses Mary deeply on the lips. Stroking the side of her face with his hand as he does so, he pours out the whiskey while she is distracted and lets the blood in his mouth flow into hers. He pulls back and gives her a look of sad longing. “Thank you for the whiskey
ma’am, but I should get Lorelei back to the hotel while she still has her clothes on. I hope we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” He nods to her and leaves one of the twenties he stole the other night on the bar as a tip and the goes off to ‘retrieve’ Ansastasia. “Success.” He whispers upon finding her.
Anastasia is sitting on Geordie’s lap, nuzzling his neck and cooing at him as Mack and Mary kiss. Cian feels the woman stiffen for a moment as the coppery taste of his rich vitae floods her senses, but it ashes away all resistance and she melts into the kiss. She sighs as he ends it and slips him her number saying softly, “I need to see you again…” as he makes his way out of their exchange to look for his
sister. Geordie, at being interrupted, looks ready to fight whomever it is but a forbidding look from Anastasia stops him dead in his tracks. She kisses him one last time and slips off him, leaving with his cellphone and promise to see him soon. She leaves with Mack saying, “most deliciously so, and super fun, no?” As they head to her car, dawn not being far off. “Back ‘home’ then?” She says as she drives
towards the Asylum by a circuitous route, just Incase theyr’e being tailed.
⋠Cian⋡ laughs, leaning his head back against the headrest. “Yeah, lets head home. That was fun. Really…really fun. And useful as hell. Having the bartender in a place like that in my pocket? I bet she hears all kinds of shit that will help us out.”