Faith, Trust, and Pixie Blood (1+1)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by XIII, Aug 7, 2015.

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  1. This is a roleplay between
    Minibit
    and
    XIII

    Posting is prohibited.
    Stalking is encouraged.​

    Current info:


    Time: Autumn (September/October)

    Large city

    Sansa Ravenwood
    Fairy
    Preschool Teacher

    Marissa
    Human
    Sansa's roommate
    Occupation unknown

    "Jude"/Isaac St. Matthews
    Vampire
    Grunge Rock Artist

    Tyrell Kutchinson
    Human
    Jude's manager

    Joanna Ling
    Human
    Jude's older sister
    Finance Manager

    Lionel Ling
    Human
    Joanna's son
     
    #1 XIII, Aug 7, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 14, 2015

  2. "There has got to be something wrong with your brain." The petite femme grumbled in her thick Irish accent, vibrant green-yellow eyes staring at the ridiculous reflection the mirror presented. She was never one to argue about anything. She was more of a 'Oh, let's see what kind of shit my friends can get me into today' kind of girl. Hell, she was usually the one who got her and her friends out of the trouble. But this. This was too far over the top.

    "Maybe you're not in danger, but Mari, I'm a faery. Vampires eat us like we're the rarest treat in the world. Kind of the reason I'm one of the last couple, possibly the last one, in the whole world. And you want me to risk my life because of your obsession with some creepy, immortal, cold-hearted, vampire?"

    Mari didn't say anything, just kept her large hazel eyes locked on the faery's glowing ones. "San. Come one. Don't be a baby. We'll douse you with perfume, give you a few shots of rum, and you'll be set! Besides, do you really think he'll pick you out of the dozens of people backstage?" Sansa glared, eyes narrowed like a lion watching an antelope.

    "I think there's something wrong with your brain. Seriously, is it broken?" Mari laughed and shook her head.

    Night came, and the two parked stepped out of the old Jeep, Sansa and Marissa both dressed in clothes that were too dark and too... out of the ordinary. Sansa was normally one to wear dresses and walk around barefoot, careful not to let her wings show, but tonight, a black corset, fishnet gloves and stockings, a plaid mini-skirt and black stiletto heels adorned her body, complete with red eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner. Not her style, but then again, what she wore was never an option. Especially when it came to Marissa and her obsessions.

    As they approached the back stage door, Sansa moved in closer to her friend, chestnut hair billowing behind her. "Remind me to strangle you when we get home."The young fae whispered, wings tingling under the tight corset. How truly horribly uncomfortable it was. Mari bounded into the large room, taking a seat on the nearest red couch, pulling the brown haired girl down beside her. "And how exactly did you get these backstage passes? Who'd you screw to acquire these?" But Marissa said nothing, just smiled innocently.

    Compared to everyone in the room, Sansa looked the oddest. Her skin was too pale and clear, eyes were too green, and her body movements suggested something that wasn't quite human. "Dude, relax. Stop acting so... you." But her heart beat far too fast for her to calm down. Like a hummingbird was flying around in her chest. Her breasts raised and fell too fast, too deep, too... something not quite human. "We really shouldn't have come. He's going to know. Even if I don't smell like me, you smell like me. You have to remember that you live with a faery, Mari. Vampires and fae don't get along. I mean, there's still time to leave! We can go clubbing, or-" The music ended and the group of girls and guys all started getting giddy, whispering among each other. "He's coming. He's coming back here. We get to meet him!" But Sansa remained frozen, sitting there like stone, watching the door, horrified at what would be standing with her in a matter of moments.

    "I seriously, am going to slit your throat if I make it out of here."
     
    #2 XIII, Aug 7, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 7, 2015
  3. "Sold out show" didn't really do it justice. The stands were full; people standing toe to toe and shoulder to shoulder all the way from the floor to the nosebleed section. The lights glared into his eyes, and when he struck the final riff of the final song of the second encore, the applause and screams and whistles, the sound reverberated in his long, pointed, teeth.

    "Thank you, I love this city!" Jude's voice was hoarse as he shouted into the sea of sound, raising one hand high above his head in a farewell salute before stowing his guitar on its stand and stalking offstage, the long black coat catching in the big fans that did nothing to stave off the heat. Sweat dripped down his temple, collecting on the corner of his narrow jaw. Only years of experience kept him from shrugging the stifling garment from his shoulders before he disappeared from the stage.

    There was a short side area beside the stage, shielded from the crowds and separated by a door from the actual backstage area.

    Jude liked to think of that area as "two minutes break"

    Tyrrel, his tall, faithful, sandy-haired manager of many years, was waiting right at the edge of the stage, and fell in step with him immediately, the saint even had a water bottle ready as soon as Jude's hands were free.

    "Great show tonight, champ, just a few more hours and you're good to go." He encouraged with his lopsided smile.

    'champ'. Jude always liked that; it made him sound like a roadie from the thirties. "C'mon, champ", "great show, champ", "ready to roll, champ?" Tyrrel made a four-hour concert, backstage greet, and then mandatory after-party sound like a trip to a ball game.

    Jude stopped before the door to the backstage, tilting his head back and guzzling the entirety of the bottle's contents. The night air felt cool against his skin, and he felt begrudgingly grateful for Tyrrel's suggestion that he forgo a shirt and just wear the coat. Said they'd "eat it up". Another turn of phrase that made him nostalgic for a simpler time.

    Crushing the bottle in his fist, he let some stage hand or other take it away while he steeled himself, staring at the backstage door and finger-combing his lank, white-blond hair.

    "Just about ready there?"

    Jude held up one hand, fishing in his pocket for his phone. He ignored what used to be a staggering amount of missed messages and opened the camera; God bless the digital age, he couldn't exactly check his face in a mirror.

    The dark liner around his eyes stood as resolutely in place as the red colour contacts however, and he was out of excuses to postpone.

    "Okay, okay" he said, rolling his narrow shoulders and cracking his neck, the ends of his hair brushing over his shoulders as he turned his head.

    "Let's go."

    Truth be told, Jude actually enjoyed these backstage meet 'n greets. It was pretty hard not to glean some amount of pleasure from walking into a room of people who had paid probably a fair touch more than they could really afford just for the opportunity to be near you, after all.

    It began as it always did, the second he stepped through the door.

    "All right, all right, give the man some breathing space, people!" Tyrrel shouted in vain as the attendees pressed in around them, squealing and snapping pictures and calling for attention. Jude was already well into his usual routine; clasp a few hands, stop for a few selfies, but never more than a few minutes with the same person, until one caught him in his tracks, and he nearly did a one-eighty.

    Two young women, dressed for the show. One pale even for a vampire fan, jumpy, frail, and her heartbeat pulsed like a bomb about to go off; God, he could practically see her arteries.

    "Did you girls enjoy the show?" He asked, composing his expression into a warm smile
     
  4. She didn't know what to do, what to say. Marissa tugged on her, but time seemed to suddenly slow down. She could see her life flash before her eyes, brows raised as the door opened. It was like she was preparing to leave one of the boats and raid Normandy. She was scared to death. But then, it opened, and suddenly time began playing at regular speed. But the room shrunk, and finally, Sansa released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

    That was when he turned.

    A shiver went down her back as he spoke to them, her glowing green eyes locked with his, unable to look away. She was petrified, glued to the spot, breathing shallow. Marissa looked up at her and nudged her arm, looking nervously back at the rock star standing before the two.

    "A bit excited, is all." Marissa commented, shaking Sansa, who was finally able to break eye contact with him. "We had a wonderful time. You put on an exhilarating show." She turned towards him, half stepping in front of Sansa and holding out her hand. "Marissa DeMinuet. It's a pleasure. My over excited friend here is Sansa. I can't give you her last name. She's a bit touchy with that." The girl looked back at the fae, who was simply standing there, glaring at the young woman.

    "Touchy. Yes." Was all Sansa was able to muster, holding a shaky hand out to the vampire for him to shake, seriously considering her decision to ever become friends with the redhead standing in front of her.
     
  5. "'Exhilerating', that's quite the vocabulary you have there." Jude said with a smile, focusing on looking at the person he was talking to, and waiting for her introduction before he let his artificially red gaze snap onto her quieter friend with the eyes as sharp as blades of spring grass.

    "It's very nice to meet both of you." he said, wrapping his hand around her trembling one as loosely as he could while still calling it a handshake. She smelled like she'd bathed in perfume, but there was a different odour beneath it; flirting with the limits of his perception. It made him want to bring in a slow lungful of air, testing each breath of it until he could bring the identity hesitating at the back of his mind into the forefront

    "Is this your first show?" he asked, adjusting his volume slightly as he tried to coax the shy anomaly into conversation.
     
  6. "English major. Vocabulary is kind of my thing." Marissa said with a chuckle, looking back at her friend. Sansa didn't say anything as his hand met hers, letting it drop to her side before the hand shake was even done. A foot subconsciously moved backwards as she watched his nostrils flare briefly as he took in a scent. More than likely her own.

    "Sage." She said softly, referring to her smell. "I burn it at home. That's probably what you're smelling." While she hoped and prayed he would simply let it go, it was something that would more than likely be pressed further into. Marissa looked between the two, smiling as she went to answer the question.

    "First for her. Second for me. I've never been backstage thought." Her hazel eyes looked about, finally landing to the singer. "Do you just sit back here with your fans? Seems boring. I'd probably take everyone out for drinks and go clubbing." Sansa looked down at the woman, narrowing her gaze. "What? I would."
     
  7. He chuckled at the exchange between them, sparing an appreciative look for the ginger-haired young lady.

    "It's funny you should say that." he said, glancing aside as Tyrrel's hand getures caught his peripheral; frantic waving while struggling through a small but intense crowd was tyrrel for "wrap it up."

    "I don't typically stick around backstage terribly long" he continued, clarifying his previous statement. "Actually it's nice to meet someone of learning - the combined IQ of these things is usually pretty dismal. From here I'm heading to a bit of an after-party." He looked between the two appraisingly, "It'd be nice to have some respectable ladies such as yourselves there."
     
  8. Marissa's face seemed to light up at the mention of an after-party. And normally, Sansa's would as well. But nothing but a soft groan erupted from the back of her throat, a seep sigh heaving from her chest. "We'd love to go." Was the only thing she said, not even bothering to ask for the faery's permission. This was her night, and there was no way she was going to let a one Miss Sansa Petrova ruin it.

    She'd practically been dragged to the car like a cat going into the bathtub. Sansa's feet had remained stuck to the ground, glaring at her friend as she tugged on her arm. "Quit being a bitch, and chill. You're making yourself more suspicious." Marissa whispered into San's ear, cocking her head to the side. "Like you have something to hide." Heaving yet another sigh, Sansa shook her head, staring at the woman murderously. "Why do you do this to me?" She shrugged, smiling innocently. "Everyone needs that special someone to get them out of trouble every now and then, right?" "I should just let him eat you." Head rolled slightly as her feet began moving once more, stepping into the vehicle slowly.
     
  9. "Great!" Jude's mouth widened in a grin that briefly revealed his sharpened canines.

    "It's not exactly public access; here." he dug in his pants pocket and handed over a separate cell phone from the one he'd checked earlier. "Spare phone." he defined quickly. "I'll text you the address and the password to get in."

    "Ey champ, we're on a clock here"

    Ah, he'd caught up.

    "yeah yeah boss I'm coming. Sorry, ladies, slave to the system" he apologized in his most genteel tones as he gave a slight bow and let Tyrell lead him away toward the backdoor, shrugging back into his longcoat as he went.

    There were a few groupies between the door and his car, but fortunately without tickets, he didn't owe them even the time of day. He turned up the high collar of his coat as he went, and ducked into the car; he didn't even have time for a seatbelt before it pealed away into the night. He pondered briefly that he couldn't really remember the last time he opened a car door for himself.

    Hi ladies, the address is 768 Montcalme st. Sorry it's a bit out of the way, see you there ;)

    He tapped 'send' and dropped the phone on the seat next to him, folding his hands behind his back.

    "Hey Bruce, can you turn the AC up? I'm dying over here"

    A cool blast of air was his only answer. He relaxed backward against the back of his seat, and glanced down at the phone. 'message read'

    His lips curled in a smile. He wished he could have seen their faces - well, that was assuming they recognized the address.

    Faces was a pretty high-class club, even for this city. Even normal business nights you didn't get in without being on the list, and his crew had the place booked. It was a two storey fiesta of neon lights, you could hear the music from across the street as if you were standing next to any of the man-height speakers that created a thick atmosphere of sound inside.

    Jude, of course, had no problem getting inside. The music crashed over him like a tsunami, his coat disappeared from his shoulders and a shot was in his hand before he even made it halfway across the room.
     
    #9 Minibit, Aug 8, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 8, 2015
  10. "You're a pain." Sansa groaned, face leaning against the window of the jeep. It had started to rain, and she watched the bits of it spray across the window as they drove down the busy road. It had taken far too long to get out of the concert parking lot. Far too long for Marissa. Not long enough, of course, for Sansa.

    "Can you just take me home? Please?" She'd groaned like a child nearly a dozen times in the fifteen minutes they were in the car. "Pa-lease?"
    "Shut up. You're coming with me, I hope you know. I'm not doing this by myself. And you owe me." Hey eyes went wide.
    "I owe you? Are you fucking kidding me? I'm a bloody faery for Christ's sake! I don't even think I'm going to make it through the night!" Marissa glanced her way, rolling her eyes.
    "Calm down. Your accent gets so thick when you're angry. Oh! Check the address for me!"

    Why she even bothered, hell, she didn't know. But Sansa had tried her hardest to lead her away from the club. After a handful of 'no, wait, left!' 'Google maps is messing up' and 'but I don't wanna!''s, the two stood outside the entrance. She stared up at the menacing building as Marissa approached, talking to the bouncer. "San!" She called, running back and grabbing her hand when she refused to move.

    Once inside, the two females moved to the bar, eyes scanning the faces. All people who worked on the show, it seemed. "What do you want?" Marissa looked over at Sansa, who simply shrugged. "Alcohol." Was her response, which was met with an eye roll. "Do you see any of the other back stage go-ers?" The fae looked through the crowd, noticing only a couple faces before her movements stopped on one face. "Found him." She'd alerted Marissa of the vampire that moved about the room.
     
  11. "You made it!"

    Jude was all smiles as he approached the two fans at the bar - or, well, a fan and a half-willing convert it seemed. "Jon!" he snapped one hand in the air before draping one arm over each of their shoulders and leaning between them. "Each of these morsels will have a vodka cranberry, and I will have my usual."

    Jon - who was a bald bull of a man with a face of stone and brutish fingers that you wouldn't expect to be so dextrous at twisting limes - nodded and began mixing as the star of the show found himself a seat on a promptly-abandoned barstool next to Sansa.

    "Now you -" he said, sitting sideways and one elbow on the bar and his jaw on the associated fist as he focused his admittedly slightly blurred gaze on Sansa. "- are going to explain that charming accent of yours; are you from Ireland originally?"
     
  12. "We said we would!" Marissa responded to him with a giggle, giving a soft 'oomph' as he draped his arms over their shoulder.
    "Make mine straight vodka." Sansa responded, glancing at the vampire. She squirmed under his grasp, stepping away from his arm, which she had politely removed from her shoulders. Marissa simply smiled and rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the two as he leaned in, focusing his eyes on her faery friend.

    Once he finally began speaking, Sansa took a long drink from her vodka, face remaining straight as if she were drinking water. How smooth this brand tasted. Her green orbs flashed to him at the question, spinning the liquid in the cup and staring down at it. "Originally, from a place like Ireland. Connected in a way." Vision focused on him then, tilting the cup back down emptying the liquid into her mouth. She set it glass down and flashed a dazzling smile at the bartender, who promptly refilled it. She'd need a few more of these if she were to make it through the evening.
     
  13. "A mix!" Jude nodded, pausing to murmur a 'thank you Jon' as a tall shot-glass full of a dark red liquid was slid in front of him. "I'm from that area, myself - well, my family is" he amended after knocking it back. "So when did you move here?"
     
  14. The Fae watched him as he took a drink, watching the liquid drain from the small glass. It didn't surprise her that that was where his family was from. "Were your parents vampires, as well?" She questioned, sipping on the drink. She could already feel the haziness start in her head from the one drink. But still, she continued. "I moved here when I was younger, after my parents and siblings were killed." Looking to him, the corner of her lips turned off, offering a truly miniscule half-smirk.
     
  15. "Human as they come, and I'm sorry to hear that." Jude said soberly, glancing aside and indicating silently to Jon that he'd have one of what the lady was having.

    For a moment, the air was full only of the dull thumping of bass and the white noise of people chattering and glasses clinking; it was the closest thing to a moment of silence you could get in a club after midnight.

    Jude tapped his finger twice against his glass as if counting off a beat before he shuffled his posture. "So this guy goes into a bar" he began, letting go of his drink to better illustrate his tale. "And he orders twelve shots, right away. So the bartender sets them up, and buddy starts knocking them back quick as he can, one after the other. 'You're tearing those off pretty quick' the bartender says, and buddy replies 'well you'd be drinking quick too if you had what I had.' And so the bartender looks surprised and he says 'well what've you got?' Buddy knocks back the last one and says-" Jude's grin was as wide as the fellow in his anecdote as he held the line for a moment. "Ten cents."
     
  16. She'd finished her own drink by the time the bartender slid two more their way. She could already feel the tingle in the back of her mind, brows raising slightly as she looked down at the fresh glass. The tension between them was awkward to say the least, and so when he said his sorry, the fae glanced at him, taking a long drink from the cup. Eyes danced around the room, searching for Marissa, when she heard his voice once more.

    It was a joke, obviously, eyes narrowing at how he was telling it. Obviously already buzzed, possibly drunk, but the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly as it progressed. As he hit the punch line, Sansa chuckled for a long moment, imagining what kind of trouble that man was about to get into, and what the bartenders face must have looked like. Sure, it was only a joke, but she couldn't help it.

    "That man must have either been incredibly lucky or impossibly daft." She chuckled once more, taking a sip. "Where ever did you head that joke?"
     
  17. "From my nephew, actually" Jude replied, enjoying her reaction as he resumed his drink. "He musta got it at school or something; kid cracks me up." His smile lingered as he talked about Owen; his sister's son was - ironically enough - probably closer to him than his sister was. There was so much misinformation out when he was Turned - there still was, really, but it had improved since those days. Unfortunately, when part of the lies being spread about oneself are that no one can trust a word you say, it's difficult to reverse with anything you say. Time, and time alone had won back his sister's faith; but even these days if he captured Owen for a visit, she had the teen calling to check in every other minute. It made him want to grab the phone and shout that he was fine, that this kid was his kin, that he'd die and suffer whatever inhuman hell he was cursed to before he let anything harm a hair on his head, but getting upset would only exacerbate her lingering inhibitions, so instead he gritted his teeth, smiled tightly, and remembered the burgeoning comedian's witticisms for charming groupies in bars. Except this girl definitely didn't fit the category of 'groupie', he wasn't even sure he'd call her a fan. Cliche though the concept might have been, it was actually pretty refreshing to tell a joke and get an honestly proportioned laugh instead of a girl falling all over herself - and usually him - as if he'd just said the funniest combination of words in the entire English language.
     
  18. Sansa listened to him talk about his family, his nephew and sister to be exact, a smile remaining plastered upon her delicate features. She sipped on her drink while he spoke, glancing over every now and then to watch Marissa dance with one guy after the next, their eyes meeting in a brief but full conversation.

    "So how did you get to be like this? A vampire, I mean?"

    She questioned, looking at the man behind the bar, smiling as she asked for another one.

    "Might want to take it slow, Miss."

    The man commented, refilling the glass once more. Pish-posh! She didn't need to slow down. She'd be fine! Probably...
     
  19. "Well that's personal" Jude retorted, raising an eyebrow and polishing off his drink.

    He set the emptied glass back down on the bar, exhaling the tingling burn of the alcohol. He looked up with clear eyes, a genuine smile curved his rather thin lips.

    "I'd rather dance than answer boring personal questions, wouldn't you?"
     
  20. The fae glanced at him as he spoke, taking a deep breath. Dance? With him? She didn't know what to do, so she simply sat there staring at his hand. But it was rude to leave someone hanging like that. And he was being kind, at least. What would a dance do? It certainly wouldn't kill her.....would it?

    Sansa took a deep breath and nodded once, finishing her drink and standing, shaking her head softly to try and get the fuzz away. "Dance. Yes, let's." She responded and followed him out onto the floor.
     
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