| Closed: chrysalism; tw: blood, death threats | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 27 2017, 07:42 PM (222 Views) | |
| Xavier Florin | Oct 27 2017, 07:42 PM Post #1 |
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It was a bitterly cold, stormy night and the wind outside was moving so quickly it could whip up a blush on an Eskimo. There weren't many stars visible that night; the clouds in the night sky did a good job of covering them. Though it wasn't a full moon, it was rapidly approaching, as Any werebeast could probably say...and the rain? Oh God, there was so much rain; hammering on rooftops, slamming into pavements, drenching innocent people just trying to get home. It was the kind of night where the streets were nearly completely deserted because almost everyone was inside. Xavier could never recall having a strong sense of chrysalism before that very evening. He hadn't wanted to stay holed up in his flat... no, there it was too boring. Everything was predictable -- he could tell you exactly what hour his broken clock wouldn't chime on (five o'clock, both am and pm), how many times the tap would drip in the next ten minutes, et cetera. Xavier was starting to feel as if he'd spent his entire life holed up inside that bastard flat. Of course, that wasn't true, and twenty years in comparison to immortality was, well, nothing. His long, pale fingers tapped impatiently on the glass of dark red liquid sat in front of him. He had never in his life had such an itch to do something, anything. Xavier knew, really, that he was being ridiculous. He paid attention, for a moment, to the tapping of rain against the rooftop of The Blind Pig. The sound seemed to hold a tension so relatable that it caused Xavier to relax his hold on his drink. Xavier murmured under his breath, a simple Russian curse word, before casting his gaze around the bar. It seemed to not have occurred to him before this moment that a person was sat next to him. He frowned momentarily, turning back to look for an empty seat -- after all, he was never one for talking to strangers. However, over the loud ambiance of the bar, Xavier believed he had heard the stranger say something, and so he inclined his head to study said person. "Sorry, did you say something?" he asked, his accent Scottish and his pitch rather deep. His tone seemed impatient, as did his facial expression. As the stranger replied, he had a mouthful of his drink, keeping his fangs out of plain sight for now -- he had always been careful, and saw no reason to slip up now. |
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| Nylaathria Theberos | Oct 28 2017, 08:37 PM Post #2 |
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"I said you should watch your language." The young girl smiled innocently at him, her eyes a striking shade of blue. Nylaathria sits with a glass in her left hand, posture perfect despite the uncomfortable barstool. She was waiting for him to notice her; it usually doesn't take as long as this. Her hair alone causes humans and other types to stare, although it's arranged very carefully so as not to give more reason for folk to look at her. Nyla finds his discomfort and impatience amusing, and she takes a sip of her drink as she continues to stare at him. Her American accent is more obvious when she speaks again, "There is an empty booth to your left, if you wish to stay alone. However, on a night like this many would prefer company." The girl continues to watch his reaction, the man's body language and facial expressions. She wonders his name, but he appears too on guard for her to ask right now. Maybe if she gets a few drinks into him, she can know more; it's been a while since her last subject left her. |
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| Xavier Florin | Oct 28 2017, 08:50 PM Post #3 |
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Xavier's hand left his glass for a moment as he turned to look at her. It almost looked as if his intention was to take in Nylaathria's appearance properly, though this was not the case. He was entranced by the scent rolling off of her; it was intoxicating him just by nature of being there. He knew immediately that she had to have some type of angel blood. Xavier cast another glance around the bar, a shorter one this time as he was eager to look back at the angel blooded girl. Xavier ran his hand across his jaw for a moment, looking to the booth as she indicated to it. He inclined his head toward the booth for a split second. "Fairly certain I was here first, hen," Xavier replied, moving his hand back to his drink. However, as he was not watching his hand, but the girl, he knocked the glass over. Cursing in Russian, he shot an apologetic glance to the bartender. Shit, he thought to himself, I'm not paying for another fucking drink. As the bartender cleaned the drink up, he looked back over to Nylaathria. For a moment, Xavier's eyes darted to the place where her neck joined to her shoulder. The moment was brief though, and Xavier quickly looked back to the angel blooded girl's face. |
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| Nylaathria Theberos | Oct 28 2017, 09:12 PM Post #4 |
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Another grin plays at the corners of her lips. "Interesting choice of words." Nyla takes another sip, her drink suspiciously smelling like alcohol. She has to tilt her head down to look at him, and continues to watch his reactions. Many people find her attractive, and she uses it to her advantage whenever she can. Before Xavier even pulls out his wallet, she's already placing crisp bills on the counter. "Get him another," She says to the bartender, looking the older man in the eyes. The human smiles at the pretty girl, and he immediately pours another drink. Works like a charm, literally. She smiles at her private joke, before turning to look back at Xavier, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "This one's on me. Drink up!" She speaks in fluent Russian, holding up her own glass for a toast. Her long sleeve falls back a little when she raises her arm, showing off beautiful silver bangles. |
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| Xavier Florin | Oct 28 2017, 09:31 PM Post #5 |
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"Do you mean 'hen'? It's a term of endearment in Scotland." Xavier raised his eyebrows. He looked to the drink that she ordered for him, scowling a little. He didn't say anything, however, because of the intoxicating scent coming off of her in waves. Xavier wrapped his hands around the glass, and was halfway through a sip of the contents when she started to speak Russian. "че за галима?" he demanded loudly, almost slamming the drink to the bar when he put it down. As the volume of his voice had alerted many a patron of the bar to turn their heads toward the pair, Xavier lowered it before continuing in English. "Why the fuck are you speaking Russian?" If Xavier had a pulse, his heart would have been racing at this point. His palms were sweating, and he fixed Nylaathria with a harsh look. He wipes his hands off on his jeans, still carefully hiding his fangs from her sight. Xavier's attention seemed to fix on the exit. Despite knowing how badly it was raining outside, Xavier wanted nothing more than to leave the bar at that very instant. He hated when people spoke Russian to him; it had always set him on edge -- and understandably so. His decision to flee Russia at such a young age was traumatic, and even after over a hundred years, Xavier didn't want any reminders of his heritage. OOC: The Russian means "What the fuck?" |
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| Nylaathria Theberos | Oct 28 2017, 09:53 PM Post #6 |
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Nyla's gaze flickers to the exit as well, although her smile drops at his unusual reaction. I did not think it would upset him. Why speak it himself if he dislikes it? She gives a small shake of her head, setting her own glass back down. "I taught myself Russian when I was younger. I know a few different languages. My, now wrong, assumptions were that you would find it soothing to speak to someone in another language. My apologies, sir." She doesn't bow her head as she would to someone of higher rank or nobility, although her manner of speaking is polite and formal. For a human-looking teenager, this would be considered abnormal, or odd. "And, I meant your previous curse. I can understand, speak, read, and write Russian. I also suggest you lower your voice, unless you like people staring at you." I may be used to it, but it's rather obvious he wants to be anywhere but here. Nylaathria continues to watch him, noting his seemingly panicked body language, as well as his tensed figure. Her icy blue eyes wander down over his figure, taking in every detail within seconds, and filing it away in her memory for later studying. |
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| Xavier Florin | Oct 28 2017, 10:08 PM Post #7 |
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Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Xavier turned his body to face the bar. He no longer looking in Nylaathria's direction, putting his hand around the glass and drawing it towards himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment -- she doesn't know, nobody knows, you're being insane. Xavier opened his eyes again, but he kept his body language closed off. It would have been clear that the conversation was over if not for him speaking again: "The name's Xavier Florin. Thanks for the drink." His tone is back to its cold one, as before, though her polite and formal tone didn't go unnoticed by the man. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Xavier was racing through every species he knew in his mind, trying to put a match to her angel-scented blood. It was still attacking his senses, swaying his way of thinking in favour of the girl. After a moment more of thinking, Xavier moved his hand away from the glass, taking money from his pocket -- he didn't own a wallet after his last one had been stolen. Sliding the money to the girl, Xavier shuffled on the stool as if he was going to stand up. Whatever breed this girl was, Xavier had decided he wanted nothing further to do with her. |
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| Nylaathria Theberos | Oct 28 2017, 10:28 PM Post #8 |
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She raises one perfectly curved eyebrow, a stark difference in colour from her hair, which would further continue the "dyed" theory. She mumbles under her breath, in French, "Étrange.." but takes his money anyways, putting it away in her purse. "I'm Nyla. It is nice to meet you, Xavier." She doesn't dare say her full name, not in front of a fellow acting this way. The girl continues to face him, bringing her drink back to her lips for a small sip. "Are you leaving? It is rather cold out, and the rain seems to go on forever. You do not even have an umbrella." After she puts the glass back down, Nylaathria starts tapping her nails on the counter, the small clicks nearly silent underneath the noise of the bar. Tick. Tap. Click. Over and over, trying to see if he reacts to the sound. She is thinking the same as him, trying to place whether or not he is human; if not, then what is he? Her eyes glance down to his drink, but she would have to smell it for her suspicions to be confirmed. OOC: The French means "Odd" or "How odd". |
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| Xavier Florin | Oct 28 2017, 10:48 PM Post #9 |
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Ignoring the French, although he could, of course, hear it perfectly, Xavier scoffed a little at the umbrella comment. Xavier didn't say a word in reply to anything she said -- however, he did note the way she said her name. Nyla, he thought to himself, and no surname, even though I gave mine. As soon as she started to tap her nails against the bar, Xavier's eyes darted to them for a brief moment, before looking quickly back to the exit to the bar. Annoying, annoying, annoying -- the rhythm of the word playing in his mind aligned perfectly with each tip and tap of her nails. Without thinking his actions through, Xavier grabbed her wrist and pulled her tapping hand away from the bar. "Stop being annoying," he said briskly, dropping contact from Nylaathria's wrist almost as quickly as he had grabbed it. Xavier stood up, beginning to make his way through the crowded bar. Despite where he had been looking earlier, he was not walking toward the exit, rather a spot at the very back of the bar, where there was little to nobody sat. His gaze was focused on an empty two-seater table, and if he believed in a God then he would have been praying to it that she wouldn't follow him. |
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| Nylaathria Theberos | Oct 28 2017, 11:09 PM Post #10 |
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Instead of being offended, she giggles when he grabs her, finding amusement in his behavior. She pulls her hand back once he lets go, rubbing her wrist. Cold fingers. Strong. As soon as Xavier's back is turned, Nyla slides his drink over, bringing it up to her face to take a whiff. Iron. Blood? She sets it back down in the exact spot he left it, before downing the rest of her drink. It has been a while since I had a vampire. Difficult to keep controlled, but not impossible. He isn't cocky either. The girl stays seated at the bar for now, resuming her tapping with Xavier further away. The human bartender refills her drink without her needing to ask, and she gives him a pearly-white grin. Every so often her bangles clink against the counter as well, and she uses this time to think over her studies of the man. No proof without him opening his mouth. Vampires are usually stubborn when it comes to hiding, however I cannot blame him. Most of my own kind stays away from human settlements. I wonder if it is worth the risk? Her gaze flickers up to the bartender, who is serving another patron further down the bar. Humans get too boring, too predictable. Nylaathira sips at her cider, a perfect drink for this type of weather. She glances from the bartender to the person he's serving, studying them in silence for several moments. |
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8:31 AM Jul 11