Three A.M, do you know where your dhampir is? Doing what she was trained for. Prowling the streets of New Orleans looking for the big bad. It was prime time hours for those who like the night life.
She wore her basic black...well, everything. Cargos, sneakers, and her t-shirt, that just so happened to sport a few white letters that stated, "Also, I can kill you with my mind." Hey, could be true right? Anything is possible in this day and age.
On Constance Street, she stopped at St. Vincent's Convience store and grabbed a bottle of water, continuing on to St. Mary Street where The ST Bar and Lounge was located. She gave herself a once over in the reflection of the glass before entering. Sooner or later, she mused, she'd have to get dressed in all the finery that Georgia Grace had so willingly helped her to get. There was one shirt she was still trying to figure out how to put on.
This late at night and still the place was wall to wall. Smoke billowed along the ceiling, the scent of sweat, cigarettes (not all the legal kind), and alcohol clung to her like a second skin the instant she entered. The lights were dim, giving it a cozy atmosphere. That helped some. Better low light than bright light. She moved to the bar and handed over her now empty bottle of water, and ordered a gin and tonic. Something she hadn't had in a very long time. She so did enjoy her work.
The weight of centuries fell on her. She could feel the eyes gauge her, assessing her. Ren turned and found the source of that gaze. It belonged to a man who sat in the darkened corner. His hair fell straight passed his shoulders and further, though the table blocked her view from seeing exactly how much further. The color a deep mahogany in the dim light. She wondered briefly what it would look like in the sunlight....duh, like a fire. He was three hundred give or take a decade and those dark hooded eyes stared at her, a pale hand motioned her to sit with him.
Glass in hand Ren moved cautiously. Her eyes scanning the room. There were a few lesser vampires about. She felt them when she came in....he hid himself. She wondered why. The lesser vampires milled about. All had compaignions that boasted at least one visible bite mark. 'Good boys.' She thought.
Sliding into the booth besides the man, Ren placed her glass on the table, her hands beside it, elbows just hanging off the edge. She sat in silence, waiting for him to speak.
When he did, his voice was like a melody of angels soothing the rough edges of ones soul. It was the voice of the dream lover, the one who can tempt you, treasure you, tame you. "I wonder..." he said, his voice so very american she couldn't help the thought that he'd been in the states all his life...or unlife?...Not New Orleans though. There wasn't a true trace of an accent - California maybe? "If you've met any other of my kind since your arrival, Dhampir."
Well, well, well....someone who knew what she was. So rare these days. " A few." She said, lifting her glass and sipping at the gin and tonic.
"And?" He prompted, leaning forward slightly, and oh so very humanly slow.
"And what?" Ren, the silver tongued devil.
"And, my young dhampir, do they know what you are?" He asked, getting right to the point it seemed. But what his point was she'd yet to figure out.
"Doubtful." And with a slight pause, " No one's ever called me out like you have." There, damned near a full sentence. Even if a bit snappish.
"And do they know the signifigance of the stone around your neck?"
Well that got her attention! Her spine stiffened, she sat up a bit straighter if possible and looked him directly into his eyes. Was was his game?
"Oh yes, I know of your," he made air quotes, "community. Tell me, how is Sergi the leather crafter? Still well I hope." He raised his own glass to his lips then, watching her.
She narrowed her eyes, looking for that...certain something that flows in her veins. The 'pow' that lets her see the true face of the vampire...how she's able to lable and dispatch the true killers among the many vampires. He was clean. "He's well." Was all she said.
So very slowly his hand raised, and inched toward her head. "May I?" He didn't wait for an answer but instead lifted the hair on the side of her head, revealing the flowered tattoo behind her ear. "Candra, how very good to meet you at last. How is Berlin?"
Oh this did not bode well. Well it could, but she doubted it. Nothing good ever came of befriending a vampire. "He's well." She answered again. "And do not call me by that name. Candra died a long time ago. She is well and truly buried." Oh Berlin was in deep shit with her...once she got to her computer that was. " You know who I am, you could do me the curtisy of giving your name." Ok, that was a bit more than snappish, but eh, she didn't care about his feelings. She wanted to know - well alot.
New Orleans was the first place she'd been sent, where she didn't have detailed information on the who's, what's, and how's. She was finding herself more and more in the dark as the saying goes. This trip, intel was not her friend.
"William." He said, with a slight tilt of the head.
"Well William, its been real...been fun...hasn't been real fun, so I'm out of here."
As she stood, he grabbed her wrist, not forcefully, hell it wasn't even hard, because when she jerked it away from his very warm hand, he let it go. "If you need assistance Candra," yay he was ignoring her request...er...demand. "I am here most nights. If I am not, you can leave a message at the bar. They will find me."
'A bloody cold day in hell that would be.' she thought, but her spoken words were, "Yeah, sure, ok."
The poor dhampir couldn't wait to leave. So she didn't.
Information, knowledge, it was everything to Santino. Santino had always been someone trying to gather more of such, and that was his purpose for having been in that bar that night. Carefully while seated quietly in another corner of the place, he overheard all that was said from everyone in the place.
None of it was all too pleasing, but nevertheless he listened to it all, and would add it to his filing cabinet later on. His goal was the same as it had always been, but he clearly had not found what he was looking for here. He was not satisfied.
Santino slipped out of the place, as quietly and unnoticed as he had entered. but he would not travel far. When Candra got outside of the place, he would approach her.
"Buona Sera, signorida." He said softly.
Santino was dressed in an all white suit; white button up shirt, white jacket, white pants, white shoes and a white fedora atop his head. He stood quietly in the night air, outside the bar, letting the wind blow away all scents that lingered on him from within the bar.
Since he now knew what she was, he felt it was only fair, and hospitable, that she know what he was, since it would seem simply rude to approach her without being on the level. His shields weren't completly down, but he would at least let that scent of sand and snakes slip past, to let her know.
"My name is Santino, signorida. If Candra is unacceptable, what name shall I associate to you, beautiful dhampir?"
-- Edited by SANTINO on Wednesday 14th of September 2011 04:37:31 AM
The night air felt instantly relieving the second she walked out the door of the club, but she was pissed. And unfortunately you can't bitch slap someone through a computer screen.
That relief was short lived when the scent of the shifter reached her nose. She turned her head watching him as he spoke, just barely stopping herself from taking a step back. He smelled similar to someone she met before, with a distinct difference, as two people would be reguardless. That, had been interesting. She also ended up poisoned and didn't want a repeat performance.
"Buona Sera, signorida." He said softly. "My name is Santino, signorida. If Candra is unacceptable, what name shall I associate to you, beautiful dhampir?"
Did someone suddenly take out an ad? WTF???
Italian was is? Not one of her language skills, but the inflection was close enough to one she knew, enough for her to know he was being polite. Well as polite as one can be after eaves dropping.
Ren looked him over, and didn't bother to be subtle about it. She arched one brow questioningly before she spoke. "Ren..." she answered. "What can I do for you, Santino?"
He wasn't a vampire, so her voice held no edge of anger, perhaps curiosity and mild annoyance. After all, he was all stalker in the shadows creeper a few minutes ago, wasn't he? And he did call her beautiful; that always gains the male a point or two, didn't it?
-- Edited by CANDRA RENDALL on Wednesday 14th of September 2011 04:46:24 PM
Santino was a vampire, indeed. Being stalker in the shadows was in the job description. But despite that, he was always polite to the women, that was just the sort of man he was. Such was evident as he bowed to her when he had asked for what name she would prefer he use, and extended a hand to her to take hers and press a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles and fingers.
"Well, signorida Ren, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am curious though about your little meeting with Signore William in there."
He grinned lightly for her, all politeness and clarity. He wasn't trying to deceive her, like many might. And because of such fact, his real purpose probably was still misinterpretted, but he would keep to his own path. He had been looking to get as much information about the supernatural goings on in the city, so he could do something about the chaotic lack of organization. Especially amidst the vampires in the city. He didn't need the Council stepping in, even though such was probably destined to happen anyway.
William was one of the many vampires in town that he still needed to gather information on, and find some way to reign in, and get to associate with the others. However, it was more obvious that William was one of those that would have to be dealt with.
Ren kicked her mun in the ass for a minute or two before turning her attention to Santino. Well he was kissing her hand and being all old world charming.
"The pleasure is all yours big guy." Snarky? Naaaa. Its just her. To answer his question, she jerked her thumb back towards the lounge. "The Bon Jovi wanna be? Unhappy coincidence. Never seen him before in my entire life."
She took a casual step back, leaning against the lamp post that lined the streets, luckily for her, bars, clubs, and lounges always rated a street lamp. Her hands wrapped around the pole behind her, fingers laced together.
It was always curious to her, when a vampire approached her. Usually because it was rare. And here was a second one she'd interact with tonight that she didn't terminate with extreme prejudgice. Well, the night was still young she supposed. Though her nights have been fairly quiet where the hunt is concerned.
"Whats he to you then?" Yay Q & A, always a fun pastime.
"A statistic." He said plainly. There was no interest in the vampire himself, merely the information he might have, and the factt hat he would probably end up in a casket for good real soon. Of course, this was more than likely not something Santino would take care of himself.
He gave a grin soon after thought. "I'm much more interested in you, signorida Ren." He said this with another bow, and then an extended arm, waving out to the streets. "Shall we head elsewhere? Perhaps I can buy you a drink, and we could have a little chat."
And thus ended the Q & A. At least for now. He was not opposed to questions, but he had a few of his own, and he'd rather not talk out in the middle of the streets, but rather somewhere where they could sit in a corner, and he could use his power to muffle or disguise their conversation. He'd look to her with a grin, as he awaited her response, his hand still open outward towards the street.
Rule Number One of Survival, Never trust anything with teeth bigger than yours. Tilting her head slightly she really looked at him, focusing her whammy on him. Clean. Well color her purple and call her Barney!
Pushing off the lamp post she positioned herself to walk along side him. Her hands tucked loosely in the pockets of her pants. Never one to pass up a free drink, she said "Drink sounds great, not much to tell though."
However her eyes scanned the area to the front and sides, hearing trained on any minute sound from behind, and above, most people don't pay attention to what's above. Right now, nothing but a night sky, stars dimmed by the amount of light from the streets they currently walked.
His power was focused in a dome around him for the same purpose, and the street they walked on served as a form of detection as well. Anything stone was connected to him, and he used the pulse of his energy to feel any approach for a good long distance away before it became a danger.
With nothing after them, he'd lead her off to a different place to get a drink. Another bar, but this one was dark and quiet, not much chatter going on at all, and the sound of a music was a light thrum from overhead speakers in the ceiling. In a quiet corner is where he would choose his seat, and he would wave over to the man behind the bar. The man would approach soon to take drink orders.
While waiting for his approach, Santino would smile. "People say that alot, but I'm good at asking questions, and I tend to find the answers I seek."
For the sake of blending, Santino would order a drink, a martini, as well as whatever drink Ren might want. Before the conversation would begin he would do just as he had outside, extending his power in a dome around the both of them, protecting them with the unseen barrier of sand he was famous for, and extending his senses to peruse the crowd for anyone that might try to listen in, or ambush them as they spoke.
The hair on her arms stood at attention with the flex of his power. It wasn't from fear or nerves, just the feel of power that washed over her. Ren slid into the offered seat, back to the wall and facing outward. She stuck with tonights drink of gin and tonic.
"You can ask away, and I may answer...hell, I may even answer truthfully." Sipping from the glass she was brought she looked over the rim at the man. Puzzler to be sure. Generally, there's a tinge, a faint marking in her mind, around every vampire. They are vampires. The darker that tinge, the more evil the being. She'd never before seen one so faint.
Had he lost his soul? Most would argue, yes. For as a vampire, the soul was gone, left the body upon death. In life he protected people. In life he fought for his home, Italy, more directly the southern italian region south of Rome, and to the heel of the boot. Even when he felt the betrayal, like most Italians, of Napoleans actions, he still did what he did to protect Italy, even though it was a much more direct and violent method.
He remembered all this, even if there was no soul in his body. He remembered all these feelings, and felt that there was nothing different now. Why should there be? Vampires were his kind now, and he felt the need and desire to protect them, just as he had protected his fellow man over two centuries ago. The council could be a disasterous visitor, should they chose to put their hands in the mess that was New Orleans. That was his simple motive.
"You're so kind." He said, with a bit of a grin to her, in response to her statement. "Well then, I will simply say, you intrigue me because you are one of only a few I have ever met. Those others of yours that I have met ... well, they never lived long."
Vampire Hunters in general never had a high life expectancy, and even though the Dhampir were more durable than others, they still didn't last very long. There was always a call for more.
"Because of such, I never really got to know much about them. It would be nice to learn more about them. And of course, clarify what I know. Separate fact from fiction."
She sipped her drink causually, with the 'ask away' expression on her face. If nothing else, Ren did do 'innocent' an d 'blank' face very well. Tonight, she wore innocent.
"Thirty years or so ago you were fiction, Santino." She grinned. "Hell, from where I sit you're a walking contradiction. You're not a rabid killer, like most of your kind but you're dangerous just the same." Sipping her gin she met his eyes and asked. "What would you like clarified?"
She wouldn't give away her secrets. That much was ingrained in her. But she saw no harm in giving some details to him. It bothered her to a degree, that she sat here so willingly with a vampire, engaged in chit chat. Usually her meetings were very...messy. This was rather refreshing and why not enjoy it while she can?
Ren settled in deeper into her seat, getting comfortable.
"30 years? Dear Ren, I think you give those humans too much credit." He would sit back and even take a sip of his own drink. Had to keep up the facade.
After setting his glass down, he would bring his arms back before him, steepling his fingers together below his chin as he gave her a stare. He wanted to figure out. Just like him, he understood she couldn't divulge every little detail, so he would go down the personal root, and see if he could divulge some answers there.
"Not all humans are that stupid." She liked humans. Envied them slightly...just a little bit. "Not all of them feared the night and those that roamed it. Though you're right, they debate away the noise, the rush of air...perhaps ignorance is bliss."
The liquid swirled in her glass as she rotated her wrist. What could it hurt to answer that question? It was never a secret. And its not like there are real detailed records there. "Born and raised in Sparta, Mississippi." Her voice however, held no southern accent. She could have been from middle America for all her voice would let you know.
In his world, in his life, ignorance was not bliss. The ignorant died, and the educated survived simply due to knowing what to do and what not to do. Knowledge was power. Que the G.I. Joe team.
Santino nodded to Ren, in response to her answer. "I see." He said, and smiled softly. "Tell me about your life there?" he'd inquire, tilting a head back a bit, and letting a brow arch in question.
Even as he waited to hear more about her; about her life, his eyes would scan the room, surveying the actions of those around them. The pair did receive a few odd stares, but nothing to make Santino jump to any conclusions. He merely remained observant and careful.
"Nosey thing aren't you?" Ren asked rhetorically before downing the last of her drink. People staring never bothered her. Thus the scene she made at the mall. "Small town, not enough to go around, but we made due."
If it wasn't for the fact that she could see he wasn't some terrible beastie she'd just stake him and go home. What? He'd live.
"I don't see how my life in Sparta has any relevance on what I am. Next question."
"Your life holds a great deal of information about what you are. Whether it's in Sparta or elsewhere." He said plainly. Simply put, one's decisions in life told a great deal of what they were. Not through technicality, but in regards to what sort of person they were.
Her confidence in her own skill was something he would take good care to consider, merely because of the way she spoke, and the way she presented herself. It was clear, just by the look in her eyes, that she would act in ways accustom to her profession should he be doing something different. However, she may find that not all vampires were 'created' equal, and not all would be so easily disposed of.
Rousing through his thoughts, he'd press on. "Very well then. So then, what was your goal here tonight?" He asked, curious if she had intended to slay a vampire without proper jurisdiction or cause.
-- Edited by SANTINO on Friday 16th of September 2011 01:51:02 PM
She'd snort in regard to his statement about her past, this path wasn't something she chose for herself, it was thrust upon her. Ren knew what situations she could handle, and which she couldn't. Although sometimes she was reckless, and got the beat down put on her. She still called it a win because she'd been the one to walk away. Pulse intact.
"My goal tonight," she said, leaning back against the seat, hands placed lightly on her thighs. "Was a tour around the district, and a drink. " Truth. Almost completely even. If she found trouble well that would have been another story. As far as sanctioning went, she had it - just didn't come from local P.D.
"And now its my turn, Santino. You've said you have met others like me, so what's the big deal?" She knew she lived longer than some others of her stature and training. Ren figured she had an angel on her shoulder more often than not.
She still couldn't figure out why she was being so nice to him, and yes, she considered this being nice. Generally, she treated them all with the same level of distaste. The napkin under her drink was torn into nine pieces as she spoke, all set in rows of three. Moved and folded until they were all equal and to her satisfaction.
"To a statement like that, I shall simply retort, no two people are exactly alike. Everyone is different, no one is the same. So while I may have met Dhampir before, they are not you. And they are not here. I crave knowledge, in everything I do, and I cannot simply base what I know about others, to form my knowledge of this town and the people in it."
While his voice may have sounded a bit more stern, his posture and demeanor was as it had been. He was calm in stature, and the smile would remain on his face.
"I do not like to be left out of the loop. And there are things in this world that would simply take advantage of what one does not know."
Ren, the very best there is. When you absolutely positively want to piss off every motha in the room, accept no substitutes.
"Oh yeah, one of a kind right here. " She wrinkled her nose and leaned in closer. "You don't really believe, that I'd sit here in a bar with you for the very first time, mojo working or not, and tell you all my strengths and weaknesses do you? Do I have 'dumbass' on my forehead? Take a fuckin hike, come back after you've upgraded from taking detective tips from Perry Mason."
"A very obstinate and impudent woman. I never asked about strengths and weaknesses. I simply asked questions about you. What you do for a living I'm already aware of. Basic ideas of what you can and cannot do, I already know. I asked about you, the person, not you the executioner."
The dome of his power vanished from around her, pulling back in closer around himself alone. His shields were back up, and it would seem he was done questioning.
"If you simply wished to not speak of yourself, a simple no from the get-go would have sufficed."
He would reach into his pocket, and pull out a few bills, and tossed them onto the table for the drinks. He had taken all of a sip of his martini, for appearances sake to the humans, but now, he could care less about the illusion.
