It Takes Two to Get One in Trouble [CLOSED]

[Lord Xavier]

He is despised and rejected of men

( a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief )

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 410px; padding: 10px; background-color: #2e5187; border: 1px dotted #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000; -webkit-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000;] and we hid as it were our faces from him The night air clung to the sweaty little faces of those who dared to frequent the New Orleans clubbing scene, beads of perspiration rolling down their appetising skin, ready for the picking. A towering figure moved down the street, an expensive designer black suit clinging to his slim figure, white shirt a stark contrast against the night, lightly patterned tie matching his maroon eyes. A slim pale hand plucking a luxury cigarette from thin lips, a stream of blue smoke gushing from his mouth, the hint of fangs as a dark tongue flicked out. The ancient vampire was the master of the city and had been for the past seven years, having executed and cannibalised the former master, he was evil incarnate. As one poet said to another, sometimes the devil was known to dress as a gentleman. The bouncer, bald and pale with the customary dark suit and reflective sunglasses, pushed aside the eager little humans trying to get in, nattering like mad, excited about the intoxication that awaited them. He flashed a smile, revealing fang, as the vampire master passed through, heading for a side door that had yet another bouncer guarding it. Slowing to a halt, a few inches taller than the muscular vampire, the master vampire looked his servant dead in the eye. "Has she arrived yet?" he asked, rich Romanian tones dripping from his often sharp tongue. A shake of the head confirmed that the master's guest had yet to arrive, opening the side door, a deathly cold chill ran up the descending stairs, the smell of blood clinging fast to it. Music pumped its way up, mixed with deathly laughter, the sound of vampires. The humans could have their fun upstairs, unless they were freaks. Casually stepping down into the basement, the exclusive section of the club for vampires and freaks, Xavier stepped off the last step and came to a halt. Maroon eyes scanning the crowds of blood-suckers and human vampire-junkies, he let a dark smile play across his mouth. A few heads turned to examine the newcomer but were quick to turn away once they had realised who he was; only the very oldest of vampires would give him an acknowledging nod of the head. Finished surveying the vampire and human clubbers, the master vampire waded through the sea of thrashing bodies, heavy bass splashing onto the dance floor, rich leather seats filled with humans receiving fresh scars on their warm and succulent flesh. Perhaps he would join in later, for now he had some business to deal with. The master of the city found himself in front of yet another bouncer who gave him a quick look before unlocking the deadbolts on a heavy duty door, the kind of door that could probably withstand the blast from an explosion. With the door closing as soon as he was through, the vampire master took a quick look around the reception area. To say it was a stark contrast to the modernity of the club was an understatement. The reception was panelled with aged oak panels, the furniture was spare but lavish with deep reds and greens, an ornate rug rested underfoot and lead up to a baroque desk, the night-time receptionist sitting quietly behind it, looking up from the black leather schedule book. "Good evening, Marcus," the master vampire said with a smile. Walking across the large rug, dark eyes tracing the patterns as he moved, he came to rest beside the desk. "She hasn't arrived yet, sir," Marcus informed his master. Letting out a small chuckle, Lord Xavier tapped the Newton's cradle and listened to the clack-clack-clacking of the metal balls before answering. "Well, she still has a little time left," he replied, looking up at Marcus with a grin. He moved around the desk and toward yet another door, at last the one that lead to his own office space. Stepping into it, he noted the lack of an enemy presence which left him with a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment. No battles to the death tonight, then. Closing the door behind him, the vampire master took slow steps toward his own desk which matched the one the night secretary sat behind. The room itself had matching oak panels on the wall and was only disturbed by one other door that had similar dead bolts to the one he had walked through a few minutes before. Approaching his desk, he cast his eyes over its bare surface, no framed photos of family or the like, no room for sentimentality. Settling into his high back leather armchair, he moved his maroon eyes over the two empty chairs that looked far less impressive than his own. Yanking open the bottom drawer, Lord Xavier lifted a bottle and two wine glasses, the next instance pouring blood of excellent quality into one of them. Would his guest share a drink with the devil? table and image by crayola.

and we esteemed him not

[luna]

Everyone smelled like blood, lust, and alcohol as she passed trying to make her way to the third floor. She knew what went on in the basement; she could smell the sweet tangy scent of fresh blood being spilt and it made her insides clench. Her fangs throbbed as they slowly pushed through her pink gums sliding over her human teeth. She couldn’t stop herself from shifting into her predator form, controlling her bloodlust was something that was never easy for Luna. As long as she didn’t start she could ignore the cravings unless someone just happened to slit their throat in front of her, but that was unlikely up here. Most of the vampires were down in the basement hooked up to some fangbanger’s neck; she thought it unnatural for them not to hunt. Luna tried to deny that the hunt gave her any thrill but that wasn’t true, nor was it for any other vampire that ever hunted. She knew it was illegal now but it wasn’t something that could be given up in her case.

She checked the platinum watch that loosely fit around her left wrist and barely had enough time to get to her meeting. As she walked down the stairs she couldn't feel anything; everything was dark and she was blind among creature that could kill her by a light touch to her pale cold skin. No energy's pricked the tips of her fingers anymore, nor did any auras fill the scenery with something beautiful to look at rather then death. Depression had flooded Luna's mind after the incident last month and she knew it would never leave her for the rest of eternity. The bouncer put his hand up when she shoved the humans out of her way and she put his wrist into a hold that involved twisting it around painfully, usually sending the person to their knees but all he did was wince. She flashed her eight white fangs pushing him away from her before she strode through the door that when opened, a stronger scent of fresh blood caused her eyes to turn a deep crimson red.

Every head turned to watch her as if they stared at her long enough they would know who she was and why she was here. Scanning the crowds she couldn't make out any grey hair or clouds of smoke rising to the ceiling; she thought he wasn't here yet until she noticed the bomb shelter door in the back being blocked by another bouncer. He took one long look at her bright white hair and let her through the heavy door, it opened up into an elegant reception area. "Through that door over there." a man behind a desk pointed to a door on the other side of the room, "He's waiting for you." She headed towards the door and as she did her right hand went to her left wrist which had his mark burned into her skin that she wanted to rid herself of. Without her 'tricks' he had no use for her anymore and hopefully he wouldn't spill anymore of her blood or singe anymore of her flesh. It took her body a year to heal completely, but she was stuck in a catatonic state for it to go by quicker than it would have.

Opening the door she caught a more subtle scent of blood and found him sitting behind a desk with a wine glass filled with the appropriate amount and another glass sitting empty next to the open bottle. Causiously she made her way to the desk with no expression on her face, even though she was a little jumpy in his presence from there last encounter. She never understood why he left her at a hospital and dissapeared but she was not grateful for him marking her with his ouroboros. "Are you going to pour me a glass? Or is it just going to sit there empty?"

[Lord Xavier]

He is despised and rejected of men

( a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief )

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 410px; padding: 10px; background-color: #2e5187; border: 1px dotted #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000; -webkit-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000;] and we hid as it were our faces from him Filling the crystal wine glass with the blood of superb quality, the vampire master set the green bottle back down upon the desk. With the new laws restricting him from going out and killing humans, he had to settle for the bottled stuff, although he sometimes dirtied his mouth with a freak's neck. Since taking up the position as master of the city, he had amassed a multi-million business empire, a string of lucrative blood banks; without him the vampires out there in his club wouldn't be enjoying their shots of the sweet red ambrosia. Speaking of which, he lifted up the glass, swirling the quality blood around, watching it stick to the sides before sliding back down into a thick, dark mass. Lifting it to his nose, the master vampire closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the rich smell of copper and iron hit the back of his nose, crimson lights firing off in his eyes as he opened them. It was divine. Deciding to wait till his guest arrived, Lord Xavier lowered the glass from his face, keeping it close to his chest as his eyes wandered around the room. There were a handful of watercolour paintings, all of them by Winslow Homer, great landscapes of the sea, dark and angry, consuming and dangerous. They had cost him a pretty penny, but he had harboured something of an interest in art since eating his brother. His attention fell from the paintings and focused on the door that led from the reception, listening to Marcus talk to somebody. Another intake through his nose told him a handful of things: vampire, female, old... almost as old as he was, and the distinct scent of an old burn mark on her left wrist. Chuckling as he opened his maroon eyes, he knew it could be none other than Luna. Watching the handle of the door twist, the door itself slowly opening, he waited for her to appear from behind it, to show herself to him. With door closed and her approaching him with definite caution, he passed his maroon eyes over her form, taking in the familiar long white hair that reached her waist, the hint of the muscle that lied beneath her clothing. She hadn't aged at all, but then their kind didn't, although he had to admit she looked a damn sight different to the last he had seen of her, all charred bone and singed flesh. It was strange to think that it had been seven years since they had met, since he had burned her alive. A dark grin forming as she spoke, he gestured to the available seats in front of his desk, "Please." Pouring some more of the blood into the second glass, he gave her a generous serving and pushed it across the desk, toward her. "You're looking good. You've healed well," he said with a smirk. "What's it been? Seven years, would you say?" table and image by crayola.

and we esteemed him not

[luna]

Sitting down in the chair across from him she locked her ankles around the wooden legs and lightly gripped the glass in between her fingers; the weight of the glass fell into her palm as she tipped it back allowing the sweet liquid run down her throat. She downed the entire glass even though she had just ate at sundown, of course it wasn't legal how she fed but it wasn't something she could control. It was ridiculous how easy it was to destroy a body with out any one noticing or ever finding whatever was left of it these days. She set the wine glass back on the desk that looked like the one in the reception area, except there was barely anything covering the surface of this one.

"For me it feels more like six, spent the first year catatonic." she crossed her legs and began picking out the best way to leave if things got to out of control; from what happened last time she thought it was a strong possibility. There was another door with similar dead bolts like the one she had passed through leaving the vampires and their meal behind. Her eyes fell on Xavier who was sitting in a tall leather chair in front of her and she wondered if he was submitting to society's new laws. "May I ask, Xavier, why you of all creatures are doing in an office like this? Don't tell me you've been tamed." She could tell their was something different about him; his eyes didn't seem as crazy as they did the fist time she saw them. Maybe it was just that he wasn't surrounded by a wave of bright orange fire that destroyed everything in its path.

There were no windows in his office but a few very interesting paintings that caught her attention as she looked over every stroke and smudge of color all blended perfectly. Luna had always found art easy to get lost in and could remember times when she would stand in front of paintings for hours until she knew it as well as her shotguns which she had left behind. All she could hide on her were a few thin daggers that she did not want to have to pull them out of their sheaths for any reason. She held her left wrist out in front of her and pulled grey leather jacket and black long sleeve up her forearm so his mark was exposed. Her eyes locked on it for a moment before she turned it so Xavier could see his own handy work. "I want you to remove this."

[Lord Xavier]

He is despised and rejected of men

( a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief )

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 410px; padding: 10px; background-color: #2e5187; border: 1px dotted #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000; -webkit-box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000;] and we hid as it were our faces from him With his full glass resting on the table, the master of the city yanked open another drawer and plunged his right hand inside, his fingers danced around, going through stacks of paper. Eventually he found what he was looking and lifted it slowly, holding it above his head, keeping his eyes trained on his guest. Pressing his thumb down on the object, a gentle humming started up and the room was washed with cool clean air. Flashing Luna a small smile, Lord Xavier dropped the remote back into the drawer, among the files he was compiling. Now he could enjoy one of his luxury cigarettes without the smoke lingering in the air, staining his carefully crafted office. As his hand returned from the drawer, it became apparent that he had found a suitable ashtray, dropping it down upon the desk. Maroon orbs watching the blood vanish from his guest's glass, swallowed up by her hungry little mouth, the master vampire toyed with one of his many cigarettes. "Would you like another glass?" Slowly bringing it up to his mouth, he gripped the filtered end with his thin lips, other hand bringing up his ignited lighter. Passing the slim flame over the tip, Lord Xavier took a long dragged as he stashed his lighter once again, feeling his lungs filling with the sweet poison. Feeling as if a considerable weight had been released from his chest, the master of the city expelled the poisonous smoke upward, sucked up by the efficient air conditioning. Tugging the cigarette away from his mouth, tapping it over the glass ashtray, his left hand picked up his glass, tilting it along with his head at Luna. "To old friends," he toasted. "And scars." A wicked grin grew as he slowly drew the blood to his lips, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling as his body reacted to the rich scent. He could feel it rushing over his tongue, hitting the back of his throat before snaking down, down, down into his gut. A satisfactory smacking of the lips signalled his enjoyment of the drink, holding the glass up against the light, looking as the dark liquid consumed it completely. Taking another drag as he set the glass back upon the desk, Lord Xavier plucked the cigarette from his mouth and rested his elbow on the leather arm of his chair, blowing smoke straight at Luna once she had finished speaking. "To tell you the truth, since eating the former master of the city, I have been... different." Another drag was taken before speaking, "I've looked into it. The Aztecs used to cannibalise their enemies in the hope of adopting the valuable traits they possessed. Strange, wouldn't you agree?" It had been unintentional exocannibalism, he had eaten his brother and adopted certain characteristics, he was certainly a lot calmer since that delicious meal seven years ago. Allowing a long silence to descend all around them, the vampire lord continued to smoke slowly, expelling more and more of the noxious fumes into his office, maroon eyes studying his guest closely. She was having a nice long look at his collection of Winslow paintings, was she interested in art? Or was she trying to avoid holding eye contact with him? Leaning forward and stubbing the last of his cigarette out, a graceful movement ensured his unfinished glass of blood was back in his hand, cradled, warming it up a little. When she decided to refocus her attention on the master vampire, showing her the mark he had given her, she demanded that it be lifted from her skin. Letting out a dark laugh before responding, Lord Xavier had a quick sip of blood, "That's quite the demand." Finishing off the rest of the blood, he traced a finger around its rim. "Although I'm sure we could come to some sort of arrangement. Quid pro quo, Luna," he said through a smirk. table and image by crayola.

and we esteemed him not