Strange Acquaintances

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by milliona, Jun 8, 2012.

  1. The bookstore was a small, unassuming building tucked away between an equally small, unassuming restaurant and a clothing shop. It was easily passed over in favor of the shop, and was often overlooked even in the heat of the summer evenings, when both tourists and locals rampaged the streets, drunk and loud and overbearing.


    The plaque hanging above the door simply bore the name “Bookstore”, while in the window, a hand-made sign announced the shop as “Antique Literature, One of a Kind” in fancy script. Whenever someone actually deigned to step inside (usually just to escape the heat), a small bell rang above their head, bringing attention to the potential customer. But there was rarely anyone to pay attention to them, and after standing awkwardly in the dusty entrance, eyes taking in the over-stuffed chairs, shelves and piles of old tomes, and complete lack of technology save for the mandatory lighting fixtures, the perplexed tourist left, desperate to get back to the loud party and out of the stifling, cemetery-like silence of the book shop.


    Of course, there were people there that came with a purpose. Book collectors, antique hunters, people who had nothing better to do would sometimes notice the shop out of the corner of their eye, arms already full of pawn shop trash and Barnes&Noble purchases. They would step inside with wide eyes, taking in the eighteenth century demeanor the shop exuded in stride. Some would browse aimlessly through the books, hoping to stumble on a gem or two. Others would search knowingly, the feeling that the book they'd been after their whole life was there, somewhere. No one ever saw the shopkeeper until it came time to pay, but when they did, it was as if the experience of visiting this particular store was complete.


    He was just like his shop, all pomp and old-time class, as though he had been frozen somewhere in the 1700s and recently thawed out before being thrown into the present. He wore a waist-coat, intricately embroidered with golden threads, and spoke with a light French accent, voice smooth and deep and void of extreme emotion. His hair, black and long, was held up by a ribbon! And he often sported a pair of spectacles, either around his neck or hanging from his long, thin nose. He had the charming air of a gentleman in his late twenties or early thirties, something completely foreign to most people, and would tally up the sale by hand, write down the receipt by hand, and would count out the change himself, all the while carrying a light-hearted (and often one-sided) conversation about the state of political affairs in colonial England. Then the customer, satisfied with their purchase, would step out into the world once more, becoming confused for several moments about the modernness of it all before remembering that they truly did belong in this century.


    Nicolas lived above his shop. His living quarters, unsurprisingly, were just as lost in time as the rest of him, and that's the way he liked it. On this particular evening, he hadn't had a single customer come in, and had closed up shop early. It wasn't uncommon for him to go weeks without any kind of outside contact, and with the age of 'e-readers' coming on strong, he had a feeling that customers would be even more scarce.


    He lived alone, without a pet, a companion, or even a television. Just his books, which he'd read over and over again in his long life. There were no electronics to be found, save again, the mandatory lights. But even those were never used. Nicolas preferred candle light, and had wallpapered all of the electrical sockets and light switches when he'd first moved in. He did own a phone- and old, antiquated piece with a rotary dial that didn't have voice-mail and was used only to conduct business. It began to ring only moments after he walked through the door, and he had to turn around and dash back downstairs to get to where it was in the back-room of the main shop.


    “Hello?”
    The voice on the other end was nasally and sounded far away, a testament to how terrible the phone was. They spoke briefly of books and how much would Nicolas pay for a copy of this, that or the other, and then they hung up, mutually satisfied and feeling like they got the better deal.


    The sun was setting, and the weekend rush was beginning. Nicolas took off his glasses, which he only needed to wear during the day, as his eyes were especially sensitive to sunlight, and left them on the table. He was hungry, and not in the usual way, either. A cow or some other unsuspecting beast wouldn't be enough this time. Heading back up the stairs, Nicolas hated himself even as he plotted where to go to eat that night. He couldn't rightly eat in his town. It would stir things up, and he couldn't afford for the police to come and start prying. The eccentric man with the books would probably be the first suspect in a murder. Instead, he'd have to go out, maybe a hundred miles in any direction, into farm country or a nearby town. Somewhere where he couldn't be tracked back.


    Back in his room, Nicolas stripped quickly before pulling out the only 'modern' articles of clothing he owned. A pair of jeans (appalling!), a black t-shirt (uncomfortable), and military-style combat boots. He slipped on the ensemble, untied his hair, leaving it to flow about his face and get caught in places it had no business being, and then stole out through the window, not wanting to alert the neighbors or the tourists of any activity on his behalf.


    Two hours later found him in a sleepy little farm town, where he quickly found his target. She was older, in her late forties, and sat alone at the bar of a sad little excuse of a club. Nicolas had sidled up to her, struck up conversation, and after purchasing her a few drinks, they were on their way back to her place. She wasn't unattractive. But then again, with the amount of time it had been since he'd last fed properly, Nicolas found anything with a pulse to be automatically appealing. She was eager, primitive instincts not catching on to the obvious danger she was in as they stumbled through the front door, hands roaming over each other curiously, desperate to get past cloth and buttons and belts. At one point, Nicolas ripped her shirt completely off, but neither of them minded, because it wouldn't matter in the morning anyway. She kissed him first, and at that point, he wasted no time in laying her down and taking what he needed. By the time she noticed, it was too late and all of her feeble attempts to get away from him, to scream, amounted to nothing.


    She was dead fifteen minutes later, and after extracting himself from her cold grip, Nicolas began the meticulous task of cleaning the scene. Like washing dishes after a particularly filling meal. He took her to the bathroom, washed his prints off of her body, and left her in the tub, splayed out in the least degrading manner possible. And then, pointedly ignoring the framed photographs of what looked like her children and friends, cleaned the rest of the living room, wiping down all of the surfaces before collecting his shirt and heading out the way he'd come in.


    He slipped into his house just as the sun was coming up and he closed the blinds, disgusted at himself even as he felt full to the point of satisfaction. Stripping quickly, he made his way to the bed and fell in. No one would come to the shop anyway.
     
  2. It was much later the next day and, it being a Saturday the streets were bustling.
    The large clock up on a nearby store showed that it was just barely eight PM and people were coming and going from dinner and starting parties.
    One such person was a young red and black haired boy about five foot nine wearing bright blue tennis shoes, black torn jeans, and a tight black tank top.
    Around his neck was a gold choker with a cross, softly nestled against his skin.

    The kid had a cigarette in his mouth and a chick on his hip, an arm wrapped around her waist as he looked for a quiet place to feed.
    Yes, he was a vampire but killing wasn't really his interest unless someone really pissed him off.
    He just fed often from the local girls who loved his fangs and what was in his pants.
    Oh yes, the two came hand in hand, no pun intended.

    "Ah...how bought some fun time in that ratty old bookstore?"
    The girl giggled and nodded, rubbing against him.
    "That place never has anyone in it and it looks like its open but the lights are off."

    With a smirk Lan opened the old door, glancing inside briefly to make sure no one was there.
    His vampire senses were rather dull so if another was nearby he was a sitting duck, though he could smell humans.

    After the girl went inside he shut the door and locked it.
    Grabbing her hand he tugged her to the back of the store and set her up on one of the small reading tables for customers that don't exist.
    Anddd, now for some sexing.
    Lan was quickly to get the girl's pants down, his hands riding up her bare thighs as she shoved herself onto him.
    So much for going slow this time.

    Either way, he was hungry and once his sexual tensions were releasing he was biting at the girl's neck, snarling loudly as she moaned with him.

    Too bad the kid had no idea a vampire was upstairs.
    Hopefully he didn't care that they were having sex and feeding on one of his antique tables.
     
  3. Nicolas sat upstairs, going through inventory and writing out author names and titles and other such pertinent information, all the while stamping down the shame of what he'd done the night before. He knew he should feed more often, so that his subjects wouldn't die, but he couldn't bring himself to go out and feed on these people. It was much less effort to starve himself for six months and then go out and kill someone, rather than feed regularly and actually have to interact with them.

    He loathed modern society. They were confusing, loose, moral-less and stupid at the best of times. What had happened to the days of kings and queens, he wondered to himself as the bell rang and what sounded like a pair walked into the store. He was quick to dismiss them for nothing, but then the unmistakable scent of sex and blood drifted up to him, mixed with the almost overwhelming aura of another vampire. Face contorted in disgust, he placed his pen down and stood. There was a vampire, having sex and feeding, in his book shop no less! Did no one have any shame anymore?

    Quickly, Nicolas made his way downstairs, spotting the pair almost immediately on one of his expensive cherry-wood tables, and faster than the eye could see, planted himself in between them, pushing them apart. The boy was forced off of her neck, leaving her to drip blood all over herself, and the girl similarly slid off his cock. Nicolas scowled, unsure on who to place the blame on, and settled on glowering at the boy, the vampire, "What, pray tell, are you doing in my shop?" he growled threateningly. But honestly, it was hard to be threatened by a man in a waist-coat.
     
  4. There was a loud grunt of surprise from the boy as he was yanked away from his food and oncoming orgasm.
    The second he hit the ground he snarled and tucked his hard length back into his jeans before getting up.
    "What does it look like I was doing, idiot?!"
    Oh, someone had a short temper?
    I'm pretty sure any other boy would be pissed at being interrupted to.

    The girl was at her sex-friend's side a few moments later, her own pants pulled back up but still unbuttoned.
    Grabbing the boy's hand she tugged at him to leave.
    Lan was a bit more reluctant as he bared his fangs at the man.
    Yes he could tell it was a vampire but he was pretty darn strong for being a young one and usually was overly cocky.
    However, the item in his pants still begged for attention so after a few moments he let himself be pulled back towards the door.
    After another moment he turned around and started heading out, intent on following the girl into the alleyway a few yards to the left and finishing up with her body.
     
  5. Nicolas watched the two stand, fists clenched at his side. No amount of incense would get rid of the sex smell now. He let them leave without saying anything, but sincerely hoped that the other man would get sick from the hussy's blood. When the bell rung again, signaling their departure, Nicolas allowed himself to relax.

    Running a tongue over his own fangs, Nicolas began to clear up the mess they'd made, picking up knocked over books and scattered paper. It was rare for him to see another vampire in his town, but this was certainly the first time one had been so unaware of him. Usually, a new arrival would sense Nicolas almost immediately, and they would often come to him to ask about the locals, to see if there was an established 'coven' anywhere. There wasn't, and he made it obvious that he had no interest in starting one, either. At that point, they would part ways, and that was the end of that. To have this cretin come and desecrate his shop like that was appalling.

    Nicolas was half-tempted to go after him.
     
  6. The boy and girl had been starting to get busy in the alley when the police showed up.
    Seriously?!
    Lan hissed and blurred, vanishing and leaving the girl half naked to be arrested for being out late and having sex in public.
    Heh.
    Well, she had been pretty young.
    Good thing Lan was a pretty fast blood sucker.

    Anyways.
    About an hour later he was back at the bookstore.
    Why?
    For the previously above stated reason.
    "Hey gramps! Are there any hot fanged chicks around here?"

    Lan nonchalantly walked right into the room sniffing and grinning as the scent of sex came back.
    He'd never gotten to finish from earlier but now his body had calmed down.
    However, that didn't mean he didn't wanna hook up with someone tonight.
     
  7. He hadn't expected the other would return. Ever. With barely-contained anger, Nicolas stuck his head out of the back room, where he had been busily shelving. He'd lit incense all over the main part of the shop, but the scent of their deed still lingered. Placing a stack of books off to the side for later organization, he stepped into the other vampire's path, effectively blocking him from heading further into the shop. He casually noted that they were almost the same size, though Nicolas was shorter by an inch or two. He also noted the smell of cigarettes that wafted from the other, as well as the horrendous attire and cocky, self-righteous demeanor.

    "Aside from myself, you're the only vampire within a two hundred mile radius. The nearest coven is most likely in San Francisco," he rattled the information off in clipped, annoyed tones, as though he'd done it a million times before. And he probably had.
     
  8. "Ew, seriously? Damnit all, I knew I should have moved there instead of here."
    The boy dodged around the other in a blur, glancing around at all the old books with nonchalance.
    "You have way to many books for your looks."
    As in, why was a guy who 'could' look hot sitting in a dusty old shop with like, five million books?
    Turning around he rolled his eyes and made an obscure gesture.
    "You know if you freshened up a bit and tightened those jeans there would be plenty of sexy chicks all over your junk."
    Yeah, he seemed to be rather lax in his terms.

    "You know. Maybe if you did someone you'd probably realize this shop is a waste of---Hmmm?"
    With a few sniffs the boy glanced up, tilting his head a bit in confusion.
    "Um...I think something upstairs is burning?"
     
  9. Hazel eyes narrowed as Nicolas took in the easy attitude and complete disregard for privacy the other man exuded. "I have no interest in 'chicks' or my 'junk'," he stated, the slang rolling uncomfortably from his tongue. He breezed past the other, lifting his nose up in disdain.

    "I don't use light fixtures in my personal quarters. It's all lit by candle. Now, if you'd please go away, I think both of us would benefit from your departure." with those parting words, Nicolas once again left the room, forgetting the books and the shelving. He would just wait for the other to leave. Yes. That was the sensible thing to do. He ascended the stairs quickly, pausing at the top and listening for the tell-tale ring of the bell, which had yet to come.
     
  10. Lan was gonna say that it was definitely not just a candle smell but the other guy was being a buttface.
    So he could figure it out when he opened his...
    Damnit.
    Why was he such a nice guy?

    Lan bolted upstairs, grabbing the man's hand right before he touched the overheated doorknob.
    "Look down, smart guy."
    There was smoke coming out from the bottom of the door.
    Obviously his room was on fire.

    "I already called the fire department, they should be here in a minute but you need to get out of here.
    Vampire or not, we still burn."

    (bbl)
     
  11. Oh no.
    Eyes wide, Nicolas reached for the doorknob anyway, flinging the door open. "I can't leave my work!" he cried, hand throbbing terribly as he looked into the room, expression crestfallen. The fire had started in the living room, where most of his work was located. He wouldn't be able to save everything. In fact, it would be a miracle if he could get anything. Wrenching his other hand from the boy's grip, he rushed blindly into the room, the heat and smoke filling his lungs and making his eyes sting. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered if he lost his life's work.

    Once inside, though, he didn't know where to go. The books, dry and old and weathered, had been the perfect fire-starters, and virtually anywhere he turned, Nicolas was met with a wall of flame. He grabbed what he could, loading his arms with what he hoped would be undamaged books as the sound of fire engines wailed out in the street.
     
  12. Lan watched with wide eyes as the other vampire charged into the burning room.
    The heat alone was too much for the younger vampire and he had to back up away from.
    He figured the man would be able to get out with his speed so Lan went downstairs and started grabbing the oldest books he could find.
    Using as much haste as he could he got nearly one hundred and twenty books out until the fire started trailing down the stairs.

    Once the fire headed downstairs he was unable to get anything else.
    hopefully the other vampire managed to get out...
     
  13. He made it through the window just as the support beam began to creak and splinter and the ceiling started to cave in. Landing in the alley behind his home, Nicolas watched as the firefighters set up their operation, his heart sinking as the minutes ticked by, and still the fire burned. He leaned heavily against the wall of the next-door building. If the fire didn't get to his books, the water surely would. And all of his documents, decades of meticulous work to categorize and sort and manage, all of it lost.

    He sank down to the ground, breath coming in shaky gasps. What was he going to do now? He couldn't rightly explain why the fire started. He could get arrested for causing such a hazardous situation in a business building. He'd have to leave, start somewhere else and pray that there was still somewhere he could go.
     
  14. It took the younger vampire several minutes to pinpoint the other.
    His senses with other vampires sucked so hence taking so long.
    Well, before the water hoses turned on he grabbed a garbage bag from right inside the door, squinting at the heat as it overtook the bottom of the store.

    Then he was quickly putting all the seriously old books he'd saved inside before vanishing into the alleyway.
    A few seconds later and he was standing over the man.
    He looked really distraught...the books had probably meant a lot to him.
    "U-um..."

    Lan set the bag down and let the top portion open so the guy could see the one hundred and twenty oldest books he could manage to grab.
    "I don't know if these will help...but um...they were all I could get..."
     
  15. Nicolas swallowed, looking at the bag as it was presented to him. There were... quite a few books in there. Placing the books that were still in his arms gently on the ground, he reached for the bag, picking through several of the tomes, looking them over before finally glancing up at the absurdly-dressed boy. He was still miserable, still bitter and upset, but he couldn't channel any anger towards the other after he'd helped him. Nicolas placed the books back in the bag, adding his own meager supply to the lot.

    He stood and lifted the bag up, "Thank you."
     
  16. The boy smiled and nodded.
    "No problem. I know its not much but at least you have some of the older ones. I'd want them if I had to chose."
    With a quick glance up he noticed something else, then looked back at the vampire in front of him.
    "Was that were you lived?"
    When he looked into the other room upstairs it looked like a living room and beyond it possibly a bedroom.
    "U-um...you can stay with me if you need a place to crash. A-At least for a little while."
    He didn't need some stiff turning off all his normal girl-feed toys but a few weeks or something wouldn't be too bad.
     
  17. Nicolas almost declined. He had more pride than that. And for all the boy had done, he still didn't like him. Pursing his lips in distaste, he lifted the bag up and slung it over his shoulder. Then again, if he could lay low for a few days while the police pried and prodded around, he would be able to return and see if anything was salvageable before heading his own way.

    He nodded slowly, "Yes. I lived there. And yes. I would appreciate that. My name is Nicolas," he stuck his hand out, trying to look like he was excited about the arrangement, but failing miserably.
     
  18. The boy laughed and gripped the other man's hand firmly, shaking it once.
    "I know you don't like me. No need to pretend."
    "My name's Lan by the way."
    He gave another slight grin and then headed towards the opposite end of the alleyway away from all the sirens and flashing lights.
    His place was only a few blocks away so within a couple minutes they were outside his apartment door.

    After a quick fish into his pocket he produced keys.
    Unlocking the door Len stepped in, holding it for Nicolas.
    "It's not perfect but I hope you don't mind?"

    Well, there was a lot of alcohol and several condoms (unwrapped, thankfully) strewn over a few surfaces but besides that he was pretty cleanly.