Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Jun 27, 2009 10:06:57 GMT -6
Pan looked at her as she muttered something about twins he couldn't catch. She stiffened suddenly, her eyes darkening and posture becoming aggressive. He relaxed his own body and dropped his gaze to look at the sprouting plant on the road. I've asked the wrong thing obviously, he thought to himself a she began to speak curtly.
"I’m a vampire, family dies. And any family I had when I was alive…. Were wretched who deserved to die, so it doesn’t matter.” It sounded like she had a score to settle. Then again, looking at this woman he didn't doubt that the score had already been settled. Pan nodded and didn't press her further on the subject. He didn't feel like pissing off someone he shouldn't. Especially another Vampire that at least associated with the Coven. He had always imagined that they worked like the mafia or some well-knit organization.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment and looked back up at her, albeit cautiously. "I didn't mean to upset you." He ran a hand through his hair slowly and tried to find something else he could contribute. "I don't know if you know this or not but I work over at the Tea Shoppe. It might not be in your tastes but if you ever want a cup of tea or some sweets or something I would be more than happy to have you drop in free of charge."
He didn't want to sound desperate but he was in a sense. Company was lacking these days at his business and that got to him more than drinking blood. "I know you're not a 'social butterfly,'" he said lightly and chuckled softly. "But... If you ever felt the urge I wouldn't mind."
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Post by Stockmon on Jun 28, 2009 1:41:06 GMT -6
After Amalia’s outburst, small as it may have been, Pan looked worried, or maybe Amalia was making that up. But she never suspected he was comparing the coven to the mafia. They didn’t even like each other. Amalia doubted highly that any of them would defend her. Ever. She more expected they would stab her in her sleep if it were worth their time. Vampires. Lowly creatures. But there seemed to be a bond of mutual tolerance. At least that was what it was from Amalia’s point of view. It was a dark view clouded by betrayal and hatred, but all in all it was hers, and it was all she had to work with.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Pan said. Amalia, who had never taken her eyes off him, blinked, “I don’t know if you know this or not but I work over at the Tea Shippe. It might not be in your tasted but if you ever want a cup of tea or some sweets or something I would be more than happy to have you drop in free of charge.” She blinked a few more times, “I know you’re not a ‘social butterfly,’ But… if you ever felt the urge I wouldn’t mind.”
Amalia cracked a smile. Well, for a moment it was a smile, and then it slipped into a slightly twisted smirk, “You don’t want that. What, like a friendly invitation? No, you don’t want that. I am worst of all to my friends.” She said. It could be construed as caring, but it wasn’t. If she cared she would blind herself by thinking she wouldn’t hurt him. She didn’t care. She was just being honest.
“If I stopped by, I would be pouching victims. Somehow I doubt that would please you.”
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Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Jun 28, 2009 23:51:59 GMT -6
Amalia smiled then smirked which made Pan shiver a bit.. “You don’t want that. What, like a friendly invitation? No, you don’t want that. I am worst of all to my friends.” Were they classified as friends now? Pan smiled lightly, listening to her openly.
“If I stopped by, I would be pouching victims. Somehow I doubt that would please you.” Ah, she was a hunter. Pan made the connection to a panther or a leopard then, deciding to voice his opinions. "You remind me of some sort of large predatory cat," he said, curling his arm to rest his fist under his cheek like the Statue of David. "With the green eyes and the general suave." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her to show he wasn't trying to be confrontational or flirty. He could feel from her presence that she should be deemed as independent.
"Still, my offer stands," he said after a moment. "If you ever feel so inclined to drop in, you're more than welcome."
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Post by Stockmon on Jul 1, 2009 11:12:34 GMT -6
“You remind me of some sort of large predatory cat.” Pan said. Amalia gave it a moment of thought. A large predatory cat. Fierce, hunters, often considered cold. Yes. That worked just fine for her, but before Amalia considered a comment Pan was doing something with his arm and saying “With the green eyes and the general suave.”
Amalia watched him shrug and smile. He was an odd one, and she didn’t like his last comment. General suave did not bother her. It was the comment about her eyes. She had no idea why it bothered her, but for some reason the open observation about her eyes was uncomfortable for her. But it didn’t matter, because he moved along,
“Still, my offer stands. If you ever feel so inclined to drop in, you’re more than welcome.”
“Your funeral.” She said casually. It was one of those comments. On the surface it was a joke, a layer under that, if you knew Amalia, it might be a threat, but at the moment it was more a comment about her presence being unlucky.
“So why don’t you want to go outside the city? You stopped me from leading you out?” She observed plainly, sounding thoughtful. The forest was a dangerous place. That was why Amalia liked it so much. Of course it was also that there was a large forest just outside the village she had grown up in, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about now. She had happier, and unhappy, memories in that forest. Though most of the time she went there it was to get wood. Always working, dutifully. Early to bed, early to rise, work, all day, every day, forever. Until now. She was rich now, to an extend, and that extend was exactly how she liked things. But still she wasn’t afraid of forests, and for all she knew about Pan, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was afraid of forests. Or even just the outside of this town.
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Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Jul 3, 2009 22:28:30 GMT -6
Pan looked past her shoulder, body turned sideways to the city limits and beyond them. Amalia said nothing for a while but finally she replied casually with a shrug. “Your funeral.”
Ah, a funeral for him. That sounded more pleasant than she must have known. Pan's eyes became unfocused for a moment as he thought. What do you have at a Vampire funeral? Does everyone wear black (stereotypically, Vampires already did that.)? Does anyone cry? Or is it more of a celebration? And for that matter where did a Vampire go after he or she met the impossible concept that was death? Either way, it sounded like bliss to him. "Hm, if only," he muttered quietly to himself before looking back at her as she continued. He was unprepared for her next question, as he seemed to be with most of her verbal comments.
“So why don’t you want to go outside the city? You stopped me from leading you out?” He'd stopped her? He had stopped, he knew, and stared down at his feet as if he had to see it to believe it. "Oh, I didn't mean to stop you," he told her and looked back up at her. "I don't really..." He stared at the foreboding darkness and hints of foliage that hid behind it that made the forest. Why didn't he? He was a Vampire, he should have had nothing to be afraid of.
"I'm more of a city person," he finally said, speaking of Hogsmeade like it was a grand populace flourishing with life. "The dark and the forest?" He shook his head and waved his hand slightly. "No, that is just not the place for me."
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Post by Stockmon on Jul 4, 2009 17:56:40 GMT -6
“Hm, if only.” Pan said after looking thoughtful. Amalia arched an eye brow at him. Was he insane? He wanted to die? She conceded halfheartedly that depending upon how old he was it might be reasonable that he should want to die. But she appreciated life. She appreciated and enjoyed being able to take care of herself, which was good. No one was going to take care of her besides herself.
“Don’t sound so excited about death.” Amalia said with a roll of her eyes, “I’m the sort of girl who would make that wish come true.” It sounded simple. Most people would shrug her off. But Amalia meant it. If someone told her to kill them, they’d best be prepared. If someone said they wanted to die. It just wasn’t advisable to say things like that. She felt nothing. Or at least people seemed to think that was the case. And she could kill a stranger or a friend if she felt the need. Not that she had any friends, but still.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to stop you. I don’t really…” Pan said, looking at Amalia. It was sort of hard not to look at her, since she was in his face. And she was doing that on purpose. But it seemed Pan was missing her point. She was trying to trap Pan. She hadn’t decided what to do if she did, but the plan had been to trap him. She didn’t particularly care to just go romping through the forest alone. She needed prey, “I’m more of a city person. The dark and the forest? No, that is just not the place for me.”
Amalia closed her green eyes, “Afraid of the dark?” She said softly, between her normal value and a whisper, but easy enough to hear. Somehow everything Amalia did, or at least how she did it, was a trap. Just being near her was walking the line. And she was always trying to get people to fall off the edge, “What could you possibly be afraid of in the dark?”
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Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Jul 11, 2009 20:24:14 GMT -6
“Don’t sound so excited about death.” He looked up at her startled, as if she had found out some horrible secret of his. “I’m the sort of girl who would make that wish come true.”
"I, uh-" He stammered, a bit embarrassed with himself for letting his words slip so easily and worse that she had heard. She was living up to her predatory cat relation and he felt a keen sharpness to the connection he had made about it earlier.
“Afraid of the dark?” Pan heaved a small sigh of relief, strangely glad they were back to another one of his less-favorite topics. "What could you possibly be afraid of in the dark?” Nothing, really... She had a point. There was nothing really to be afraid of when you were already feared, was there?
"No, not really afraid of the dark," he said quietly, not meeting her gaze. He felt humbled oddly, like he was now standing in front of some plasma-stealing god. "Just not very partial to it..." He trailed off, sounding small and pathetic in his own ears. "You're right, I have nothing to be afraid of." He shrugged, cautiously raising his eyes. "But I still am a little afraid of what I could run into in there, even if there is virtually nothing..." He looked back at the city, the lights inviting and open. "Do you enjoy the forest's company?"
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Post by Stockmon on Jul 25, 2009 9:21:43 GMT -6
“I, uh-” Pan said, stumbling, and sounding embarrassed. He was like a broken toy, in her mind. He was built for a specific purpose, and she didn’t think he was fulfilling that purpose. As a vampire he needed to survive and thrive. To survive and thrive he needed to kill and enjoy himself. He was still there, that was one thing, but in Amalia’s mind he was broken, because he was acting like something he was not. Mortal.
“No, not really afraid of the dark.” He answered, averting his gaze, Amalia snorted softly, he acted so cowardly. Amalia was a relatively young vampire, and even for a mortal she wasn’t exceedingly old, and yet she was talking down to him like he was the naïve one. It was a bit different. Usually if Amalia talked down to another vampire like this she was hissed at, smacked around, or just plain ignored. But he was taking it all in, and treating her like she was all knowing. Maybe she was right, but vampires were too arrogant to acknowledge that as a general rule. Right?
“Just not very parital to it… You’re right, I have nothing to be afraid of. But I still am a little afraid of what I could run into in there, even if there is virtually nothing.” He said, glancing back at the city. He Amalia briefly took her eyes off of him to look at the city as well, though more of a village, but still. She did not see anything inviting, or open. It was closed, judgmental, and thought itself so perfect. It wasn’t perfect. It was no better than her own way of living, it was just different. And it was weak at that. But she blinked, her fangs slipping out in annoyance. She wasn’t some perfect little child that had simply been dealt a bad hand, she was not innocent, and she did not hold a grudge against society for not accepting her. She didn’t want anything from mortals, except her own amusement, and their blood. It was nothing.
“Do you enjoy the forest’s company?”
“You make it sound like it is alive. It’s just trees and shade. I like being away from the wretches in cities. I like seclusion, and I like darkness. And as a creature of the night, I would have imagined the same appealing to you. But you are either above or beneath those ways, I suspect.” She said, rolling her eyes almost. She gave him the vague option of not being an underling, although she was of course leaning toward that option. But then she acknowledged she’d stepped away from her calmer demeanor, “I simply don’t like the city.” She said casually.
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Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Aug 1, 2009 0:20:37 GMT -6
Pan took a look back at the forest before Amalia's words pressed against him. “You make it sound like it is alive. It’s just trees and shade." He had to disagree with her but he held his tongue loosely, still looking into the forest. The forest wasn't a person, obviously, but he did feel that it was alive. Even more so than an actual person. The forest was like a Vampire, alive but not living.
"I like being away from the wretches in cities. I like seclusion, and I like darkness. And as a creature of the night, I would have imagined the same appealing to you. But you are either above or beneath those ways, I suspect.” Pan looked at her, her words jolting him back to their conversation. Above of beneath? He felt like bristling but not with irritation.
“I simply don’t like the city.” That much was clear. "Each to their own," he shrugged lightly, smiling. He wanted to continue to stay neutral through this talk. She wasn't the easiest person to talk to but Pan felt humbled by almost anyone who exposed a thicker shell than himself. His eyes flickered to the street light near them, his shoes matching up on the edge of the corona of light. He felt comfortable here in this light which really said something about his Vampirism, or lack thereof it. "This is obvious," he said after a moment, changing the subject. "But you spoke with an interesting dialect a while ago. Where are you from?" He opened his features instinctively to invite conversation.
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Post by Stockmon on Aug 2, 2009 4:19:45 GMT -6
Sometimes Amalia wished she could read minds, sometimes she was glad she couldn’t. This was one of those times. Pan was difficult. He wasn’t necessarily strong, and he wasn’t smarter than Amalia, she just wasn’t used to him. He was different. Firstly he was a vampire. She was used to men, so that wasn’t a problem, they were simple creatures, honestly. Say the right thing, touch the right place, act the right way, it was all about the delivery, the package was hidden in the packaging until a later date. But Pan wasn’t looking for a package, he was doing his best to keep clear of that, which was making Amalia’s job difficult, whatever her job was at this point. The fact that he was different and difficult was arousing her interest, and that usually did not end well. As far as she was concerned, she was not alive, but she certainly was living.
Amalia was simple too. She hurt. She inflicted pain upon those around her for her own personal pleasure. Simple. She didn’t lie about it either, well, unless she was playing the part. The ends justified the means, and that was how she had been raised to think. Sell your daughter to a vampire? No problem, as long as the end result is feeding your family. The ends justified the means. Simple. If she was angry she was angry, if she was happy she was happy. Good or bad, those were her moods. As far as she was concerned she was very simple.
“Each to their own.” Pan said with a shrug and a smile. Amalia passed over the vague thought that it was to each their own as he would probably know better than her, and she honestly did not care, “This is obvious.” Pan said after a pause. Amalia was being far more patient with him than she normally would, but then again, she did what was necessary.
“But you spoke with an interesting dialect a while ago.” Pan started, Amalia focused quickly, inwardly stiffening, though she managed to appear calm on the outside, “Where are you from?”
“The mountains.” She said simply, making it sound very final, as if that was a country, city, and even street address. No one asked outright where she was from, no one who wasn’t going to end up dead by the end of the night anyway, so she normally didn’t have to say anything, just avoid the topic. But there it was, “My dialect isn’t that important, you learn to change them from country to country, and it gets easier over time.” She said, shrugging, not addressing the fact that she’d been using her native accent, for once. He couldn’t know that definitively, and if she got too unhappy, she could merely walk away, or try to kill him. The latter was highly unlikely, but it was always available, “Why?” She asked with vague disinterest.
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Legan
Imperio!
"Is there blood in my hair?" "...what?" "...Is. There blood. In my hair?"
Posts: 175
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Post by Legan on Dec 28, 2009 2:11:45 GMT -6
Pan waited for her reply, expecting some foreign or exotic part of the world. “The mountains,” she said. He opened his mouth to ask, 'Where in the mountains?' but the finality in her tone was stinging."My dialect isn’t that important, you learn to change them from country to country, and it gets easier over time.”
He wanted to ask her if she traveled a lot if she had been from country to country but his throat and tongue seemed to be stricken with rigor mortis. She scared him, yes, he would openly admit that and he wanted to stay on her good side assuming she had one. “Why?”
"Curiosity," he forced his mouth to say, looking at her. "I've never traveled out of the country so I'm always really interested if someone comes from outside of it." He walked a few steps toward the forest, frowning crookedly and putting his hands in his pockets. "I'd like to go to Paris or maybe Germany." He smiled back at her lightly. "I'm a little envious, I'll admit... Since you've traveled from 'country to country' and all."
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Post by Stockmon on Dec 29, 2009 5:53:54 GMT -6
Amalia’s firmness had done its job, making sure that Pan did not press his luck trying to find out where more specifically Amalia was from. That was her business, and a past she would rather have left behind, though it seemed no one would ever fully leave their past behind them. It was a part of them, like it or not.
“Curiosity.” That was apparently the reason to ask where Amalia was from. Human curiosity, it was known for killing felines, so perhaps Miss Predatory Cat should avoid taking part. But Amalia was curious, it manifested itself in more sadistic outlets, but she did like to know things, learn things, and wonder things, so as Pan kept talking Amalia got just a bit closer to him, “I’ve never traveled out of the country so I’m always really interested if someone comes from outside of it.” He stepped toward the forest, which made Amalia’s job a bit easier, “I’d like to go to Paris or maybe Germany. I’m a little envious, I’ll admit… Since you’ve traveled from ‘country to country’ and all.”
When dealing with someone who would tell you goodbye no more difficultly than slit your throat, putting your hands in your pockets was not a good idea. Amalia put a hand on Pan’s shoulder when she was close enough, “Jealousy is not pleasant.” When she pulled her hand back she brushed a strand of her hair back and moved to stand so that she was between Pan and the forest again, a subconscious sign that she hadn’t let her guard down, though she expected no difficulties from him, “And I prefer Paris to Germany, German is such a guttural language.” Like mine. “It is easier to travel to many countries when trying to earn money unscrupulously, I’ve found, that was one of the reasons for it.”
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