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Post by Alexander Turner on Nov 29, 2014 1:33:48 GMT
As the winter sets into Muncie, Alexander finds himself out alone for the time being. Charlotte is close by, her beautiful crimson head lost in one of the flights of fancy that even undeath could not cure. After all, who would deny a southern belle her choice of hats come Christmas time. It was something that Alexander was often amused to witness, but tonight something else weighed on his mind.
The beast had already choked on the events of the past weeks in the mortal world and it shook the cage that Alexander had been taught by Robert to keep it in. It was that rattling in his soul that made the frills of the shoppe and the insipid stream of women trying to cater needlessly to Charlotte that had tested his patience so.
Now at her suggestion, he was walking to "cool off." . A good idea, if Alexander had ever come to like the snow.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 29, 2014 1:57:20 GMT
The snow had stopped, the soft flakes no longer dusting the roads, but covering them in thick blankets that would soon be patterned with foot traffic. The holidays had reared its ugly head and now the season of giving would be nothing but mob like violence at the nearest Mall and some poor bastard dying over a latest Barbie Doll.
Sliding her pale fingers into her wool coat, Angela continued through the downtown block, only to stop and admire the window display of a small art gallery. Angela never understood, how throwing paint on a canvas, could be considered art. She didn't get it, really.
As Angela stood, the street lights casting a garish glow, the wind had grown still, the snow staring to fall again.
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I'm a Nightmare dressed as a Daydream
Elder
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Post by Quinn Mason on Nov 30, 2014 0:46:56 GMT
A new face walked down the street. A pretty face. A scarred face. She walked down the sidewalk with a leash in her hand attached to four black and tan dogs. However they were different, two Doberman pinschers and two miniature daschunds. They walked very sure of themselves, keeping an eye on all directions. She walked very slow, taking in her new home. Her heels crunching on the snow, flakes fluttering on her eyelashes. One landing on her jagged heart scar on her cheek. Her one green, one black eye look into every window, every door dressing, every car that drove past and every person that walked by. Her beast perks up at the introduction of two beasts on the sidewalk. One looking into a window, the other walking her opposite. The dogs ears perked, but went back to normal. They could see them, they were no unknown threat. She smiled at the dogs and stopped to give them all a treat. |
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Post by Alexander Turner on Nov 30, 2014 19:19:24 GMT
A twitch.
Its a subtle little thing and something he's finding himself more and more accustomed to in this place. Despite it's size this small city seemed to be abundant with beasts to collide with. Some creatures were welcome monsters with things to offer that made the man demand the cage be settled about the thing that lived in Alexander's gut. Before raising his eyes to search the streets he could feel the anger over the thing that drove his existence steel the beast against being caged.
//"You'll do as I tell you..." //he whispered in his mind, with clenched fangs receding back into place.
Then dark brown eyes shift upwards as calm settles over Alexander's features, melting the tenseness from his tall, toned form. His hands come to adjust his jacket and flip his collar up against the next gust of winter wind.
Before him working down the streets and in front of the shops, he could see them. Both shrouded in beautiful forms, but beasts like himself none the less.
"Lord, I hate snow."
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 30, 2014 23:12:16 GMT
Guess the holiday spirit pulled at the heart strings of kindred, after all. A kindred to left and a kindred to her right. She could interact, but then that could lead to Christmas cards and holiday invites and who wanted that? Angela sure didn't.
Then the gentleman spoke. Her father had always told her answer when spoken to, even if she didn't care to. It showed good manners and eased any unexpected tension.
"It could be worse. We could be in Buffalo." She didn't turn to look at him right off, but the ring of his smooth voice still echoed in her memory. Now she couldn't help herself; Angela wanted to look. Angela offered a smile.
"For a small city, we sure do populate." She turned her head to the woman walking with the bundle of dogs before greeting him with a polite smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes.
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I'm a Nightmare dressed as a Daydream
Elder
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Post by Quinn Mason on Dec 1, 2014 1:18:47 GMT
The strange beauty continued to walk down the sidewalk, her dogs sniffing the air enjoying the evening out. She noticed the two ahead of her but was not quiet close enough initiate a conversation just yet.
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Post by Alexander Turner on Dec 1, 2014 2:03:06 GMT
The statement struck like a ton of bricks upon the silence that their natures bore, shattering it and Alexander finds himself laughing.
"You're right and I hated the snow there even more than I do this." he says in response to the almost hesitant gaze meeting his.
Shifting a bit to face both the women now close to him properly, Alexander took in the pair. His chocolate eyes washed over them both. There was always some little imp that played in the back of his head when confronted with new women, especially white ones. He could only sigh to himself at the tiny bit of discomfort that should have left a century before. But, they weren't Charlotte and he could feel his fingers slide along each other in his gloves before he spoke.
Perhaps it was the news so fresh in his mind bringing these feelings back. Perhaps he had never really gotten over any of it. It all made his back itch and force him to fight the desire to know who was watching him.
"We do seem to be in high numbers about town here." came the second reply with his Georgian accent.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Dec 1, 2014 3:00:34 GMT
Georgian accent. It was easy on the ears and Angela returned her dark brown eyes to the window display, watching as the wooden train continued around and around in an endless journey to no where. The gray coat kept Angela warm, even though she didn't feel cold, the falling snow never melted against her skin as it were as cold as the surrounding winter chill.
"Give it time. Tomorrow it'll be in the high fifties and all this festive snow will be gone. The Midwest has a funny sense of humor that way." Even as Angela cursed the falling snow, it still accumulated.
"I'm not a fan of small talk. Angela Sisco." She held out her hand and gave a warm smile or as warm a vampire could be. Her pale hand was a white as falling snow.
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Post by Alexander Turner on Dec 1, 2014 3:10:17 GMT
"Small talk is the root of all conversation and without conversation, rational beings break down into the most coarse of behaviors." Alexander quotes as he hears Robert's French accent whisper in the back of his head. "...or so someone once told me."
His hand extends to meet Angela's. At the touch, she can feel the warm radiating from him as his satiny brown skin catches little bits of golden light from the shops. The light plays along the brown flesh contrasting it against her cream colored hand. There is something else there in the contact, something that only the turn of Angela's wrist to let her eyes run over the sensation her own fingers pick up from Alexander's grasp. His actual touch, while especially gentle is firm and betrays origins not consistent with the polished exterior she looks into. However, it does ring correct for the focused eyes that look at her.
"For me, its how I get to know anyone worth avoiding or knowing. I tend to prefer those who are as straight forward as you are, Miss Sisco. Alexander Turner. A pleasure."
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I'm a Nightmare dressed as a Daydream
Elder
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Post by Quinn Mason on Dec 1, 2014 3:19:22 GMT
The dogs approach careful to keep a small distance from the other kindred, Quinn smiles politely at the others "Evening." she says warmly but continues to walk, not sure if she should interject herself into the conversation.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Dec 1, 2014 3:25:00 GMT
"Call me Angela. Mrs. Sisco is too formal for me." She gave his hand a polite squeeze, her pale fingers curling around his rough but warm hand. Angela's skin was rough and callused; as cold as the snow that touched their polite gesture.
Someone has enjoyed his evening meal.
"As for small talk, call it a personal preference. Never seems to get the job done. Mostly just words to fill the gap of awkward silence." Angela gently slid from the warm comfort of his skin and tucked her hands into her jacket pocket, as if to preserve the warmth.
Angela turned to the female kindred. "Evening." She kept an eye on the dogs as they sniffed at the air.
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Post by Alexander Turner on Dec 1, 2014 19:16:38 GMT
"That all depends on how well you are listening...Angela." Alexander replies as he runs his fingers against themselves with the slipping away of her hand.
He tracks them to her coat as he smiles ever so slightly before looking back to her eyes. It all takes little more than seconds and then he shifts his attention to the other lady in his presence. Alexander drops one of his own hands into the pocket of his jacket as he turns the burgundy wingtips he wears in the woman's direction.
The dogs seem to cause him no reaction other than the bit he takes to size the normally protective breeds up.
"And silence also speaks for itself. Please forgive a fella for not introducing himself to both of you. I'm Alexander." the hand now offered to the newest one to the small gathering in the late fall swirl of snow.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Dec 2, 2014 16:43:22 GMT
Angela gave a small smirk to his comment and stepped back to make room for the woman and her dogs. Leaning against the cool brick wall, Angela watched their interaction. she hated meeting new kindred, hated meeting new people. More names to be stored away in her memory before being shuffled in to friend of foe categorizes.
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I'm a Nightmare dressed as a Daydream
Elder
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Post by Quinn Mason on Dec 2, 2014 21:14:45 GMT
"Good evening." Quinn says turning her one green eye and one black eye towards the two kindred. The dogs sit but keep an eye out as usual, the two big and the two small. Quinn smiled and placed her scarred hand into Allexander's "I'm Quinn, it is nice to meet you. Both." she says smiling to the other woman, she didn't seem the hand shaking type.
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Post by Alexander Turner on Dec 3, 2014 20:20:42 GMT
"Out enjoying the snow or just giving your companions some exercise, Quinn?" Alexander queries as the shake hands.
"Its been a while since I had a pet that wasn't a horse."
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