I've had people tell me that blood smells like pennies to them, a sharp and metallic singe to the nostrils that immediately incites a sense of danger and apprehension. I think that humans are just evolutionarily geared to that mindset, more intent on trying to shy away from the source of possible death than to stick around and delve into the intricacies of the human perfume.
But I'm not really held to the same standard, not anymore anyways. It was always jarring to me, the word of aromas that opened up when I rose. My sire told me it would take some getting used to, and usually fledglings end up outed because they can't stop sniffing people, immediately "scaring off the fish" he liked to put it. Granted, this was way back in the day when a hunt was typical, rather than seen as an archaic, backwards tradition, like honor killings or breaking little girls' feet.
When I first hopped out of the proverbial coffin, blood types weren't really a thing. It was just known that vampires had a preference, and usually when making casual conversation in , we spoke a lot about the "wines" we liked to drink.
Often we found out that the most popular were the, er, Chardonnay. They were the easiest to pick out, this light, rosy scent that hung around a room. Most of us nightstalkers found it at the very least palatable, and it was lighter on the tongue, a little bit less weighty. It was hard to find someone who wasn't up for a Chardonnay. I later learned that they were all Type O, either plus or minus, from a friend at the blood bank, who said it was a pretty frequent request.
Type A+ had this oddly dry characteristic that you could nearly smell, which is why we called them a Pinot Grigio. It was as if someone had loaded an unripe kumquat into a person's bloodstream, letting off this acerbic odor that could sometimes sting your eyes, depending on the person. Obviously, it isn't my favorite, but a bud or two of mine loved having the back of their mouth ache. Type A- is slightly similar - but that stinging quality just isn't there, leaving it more of a 'fruitish' flavor, a Pinot Gris.
Type B+ and B- are so close, we never tried separating them. We just considered them... kind of a full, bitter taste, the sort of thing I can only compare to dark chocolate, tea, or mushrooms. I guess you could say 'umami', though that term cropped up long after I stopped eating the solid stuff. Even though it isn't really that close, we always called them Cabernets, this dark and heavy taste. Most of us like it pretty well, and it's an acceptable substitute if there's not a Chardonnay to sip. Their fragrance is subtle, and I could never put my finger on what it reminded me of, but some friends of mine have said it reminds them of woodsmoke or earl gray steeping in a cup.
Type AB+ was always an awful surprise for anyone who didn't have a taste for it. They were this strange mix of bitter and sour, a blanching of the tongue very few vampires could stand. Luckily they also had a bright, easily distinguishable sort of cologne that always made me think of vinegar or cat piss. I've met a total of one vampire who likes Syrah. Definitely was not my favorite.
But AB- was the grand prize. We playfully called them Sauternes, that difficult-to-find wonder wine with a high price tag. Their smell was always sure to draw a crowd, and back in the old days, whole chiropteran wars were fought over a small population of Sauternes living in some village, unbeknownst to them that their blood was prized enough to sacrifice covens for. They smelled like fresh baked bread and honey, like butter and brown sugar, a miasma of smells that automatically draw you in.
Of course, ever one of us Children of the Night had our preference, and sometimes you could tell what kind of person you were dealing with by what they wanted to drink. If you had someone who like Chardonnay, they were probably run of the mill, your typical undead. If they wanted a Pinot Grigio, you were looking at a real snob. And you always stayed away from someone who wanted Syrah.
