True Natures... with Zizikitty

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  1. Some days Neon wondered if he would ever change his living situation significantly. Ever since his first run in with vampires, he had been involved in their world in ways that made very little sense to a human. But, Neon was human. And thus the problems arose. Neon had been born a human and for the first part of his life raised a human. But ever since he'd first met a vampire, he'd had that voice whispering in his ear that there was something not quite human about him, deformity aside. He ignored it. He couldn't be anything but human, there was no other option. He had no abilities, or special talents. Though he'd never known his parents, he didn't think they would have been abandoned as a child if he had some inherited family supernatural trait.

    Instead, he was a 'normal' 22 year-old with no family, working at a downtown bar called La Clé Secrète or 'The Secret Key', known to the locals as just 'the vampire bar'. About half of the city openly criticized the place as a dirty, shameful place where no decent human should be seen. About half of those people would go anyway. It was a place where humans could see supernaturals the way they thought they should be, mysterious and sexual, abnormal. The owner, Marcel, was very particular about who he hired... but there was the occasional human server. He tried to keep an atmosphere of otherworldliness as his draw for humans and supernaturals alike.

    Knowing the kind of place it was didn't stop Neon from acting like it was just another normal job, and for him it was. There weren't too many other places he could get away with wearing his right arm completely wrapped up and gloved without getting weird looks. Here it just added to the 'allure' of being a server boy. But the establishment, while having the reputation of being 'unclean', was anything but. It was actually a very well-managed, high class place. It just happened to be run by vampires, with mostly supernatural servers and 'dancers'. It was more of a club then just a bar, with nightly shows where both male and female dancers would be on stage. Only supernaturals were allowed to be dancers, though Marcel had tried to convince Neon to be a dancer, he'd had no luck. Neon had the body and was never required to wear his arm wraps at the bar, but he refused to let anyone but the owner know what he was hiding. Marcel had given him a job anyway, but Neon was pretty convinced he was only doing it to keep him under his watchful eye, like property. Vampires were all about ownership, especially the old ones.


    Tonight was a night like any other. Neon was waiting tables in his skin tight clothing, usually a maroon shirt and black pants, to fit the theme of the bar. He was currently being harassed, which happened at least three times on a busy night. Everyone wanted to know what he was, especially the human women that came to the bar. When he would tell them human, they would either laugh like he was being a tease or ignore him and proceed to ask when he would be on stage. Tonight a regular had already asked him just that, convinced that he was something supernatural, and Neon had purposefully led her to believe for several night now that the reason he was never on stage was because Marcel believed he wasn't up to par. She would flit and tell him she knew he was good enough and he would flit back just enough to get her off his case. She came in about once a week. He was expected to keep the customers happy at all costs, and had perfected over the past year his ability to mask himself, to come out of his normal comfort zone and pretend he was enjoying it. However, whenever he'd come back to the bar with his back turned to the room, one could see a hint of exhaustion in his face, like it took a lot out of him to keep up the persona.

    At the moment, he was being harassed by a vampire. This happened more often than he liked to think about. Vampires were all over him, and many had complained to Marcel in the past that Neon wasn't up on stage, or available for the back rooms. Marcel pacified them with the promise that one day he would be, but that he was still being 'trained'. Neon wasn't convinced this was just a lie he was telling the other vampires. Tonight he'd hit a persistent one, someone new to the bar. She had her hand on his stomach in a too familiar way and Neon was looking for a way to wriggle out of the situation peacefully. "And what night do you dance, sweetie?" She purred at him. He took her hand as though he'd just wanted to delicately hold it, and gave her a smile. "Sorry ma'am, but I'm not a dancer. I assure you, our dancers are much more suited to the task than I." She pulled her hand away, a dangerous look in her eyes as she lingered on his tightly wrapped arm. "At least share your secret, dear. There are no dress codes here." She started to reach for his right arm when he stepped back. "We can't divulge all at the Secret Key, now can we? Where would be the fun in that?" He ran a hand down his stomach to appear flirty, then spun on his heel to get the drinks they'd ordered before she could continue her harassment.
  2. Everyday seemed like purgatory. Like the same repetitive demeaning life and treatment. Humans may now know about lycans but they didn’t really know them. Lycan social hierarchy was more complex than many gave it credit for. Though they were far from the savage werewolves of legend they could still be cruel, especially to an omega. The lowest in the social order in a lycan pack. Bladerunner, or Blade as she was often called was an orphan. Or so she was told. An orphan to a pack of lycans known as the Mantu, which was supposed to be the more peaceful of the two packs that inhabited the city. If her Mantu pack treated her this bad then she hated to see how the Kiiwan treated their omegas.

    In her youth the tenuous pact between the two packs often led to skirmishes. Brutal savage brawls from which neither side prevailed. But ever since the vampires came to the lycans, those fights had subsided quite a bit. Lycans and vampires were supposed to be mortal enemies but Blade was thankful for them. Their presence also gave her abusive alpha something else to focus on other than harassing her. Though he still did so when he could. Still, she was even allowed employment at a bar owned by a vampire. This was a taste of peace and freedom for her. For she was without the constant harassment from higher pack members.

    But the sheer beauty of this place stunned the wolf. This was… well a sexual place but it was far from sleazy in her eyes. The maroon and black shirt she wore looked like it would bust at the seams, obviously meant to accentuate her already hefty bust. The dark colors making her olive skin look ever darker. The black and maroon skirt she wore also did little to cover her wide hip and with her black high heel shoes she had to look slutty. The black dog collar also didn’t help her image, or it greatly helped since she was getting much attention from the regular bar patrons. But Blade didn’t mind. Her alpha and his beta always brandished lurid behavior so this was nothing new. She tossed her long wavy black hair from her face, showing a tribal tattoo on the left side. The maroon lips stick on her full lips shined in the dim light as she batted her dark brown eyes at what she could smell was a human.

    “You’re new here aren’t you? Man you are a nice sight.” He cooed suggestively. Blade smiled though she didn’t take his comment to heart. “Yea it’s my first night.” He tapped his glass silently asking for another whiskey. “So I know everybody is something here… What are you?” That question was a bit odd but she supposed she’d have to get used to it. Her eyes briefly glanced to the only bit of bright odd color in the room. A server with a bright neon green stripe in his hair. It was the color that caught her attention albeit briefly as she poured another drink for the man. “I’m a lycan… er werewolf is what I guess humans call me.” He nodded and raised a brow. “Collar is a nice touch baby.” He cooed as he drank his drink.

    As well as serving customers Blade also had to get the alcohol for the various servers that wondered around. Her eyes then looked back at the vampryess and the man with the odd hair. Even from this distance she could smell the linger of death on the woman. That hint of decay that was unique to vampires. Vampires always had a stronger smell than humans to her. He’d already come to the bar for various drinks and each time his true expression came through. It was clear he didn’t really enjoy the attention. He came to the bar after the vampryess pawed at him and Blade gave a soft knowing smile. “Persistent isn’t she?” She said waiting for Neon to tell her what he needed as far as drinks.
  3. No one ever could place his smell, but most supernaturals that did catch a whiff of him came to the consensus that he wasn't human. Especially the vampires. Neon looked up from his short revere in surprise at the new voice. It wasn't very often someone commented on his issues, since everyone who worked here was generally enjoying the attention and couldn't understand his reluctance. When he opened his mouth nothing came out for a moment, then his brain started to catch up to him. "Oh. Yes, well... that's the norm here." He didn't recognize her, which must mean she was new here. Neon had been working at the club a year already, which was hard to imagine now, and he had managed to keep his distance from most of the other employees. His past had left some big holes in his ability to form normal relationships, friendly or otherwise.

    Realizing she was prepared to get him his drinks for the table, he straightened himself out. "One gin and tonic, one whiskey on the rocks." He gave sidelong glance to the man she'd just served sitting at the bar, and briefly wondered which bartender she'd replaced. The human guy was giving him an odd look, like he was getting in the way of something going on here. Neon looked back to the new bartender and rolled him eyes sarcastically in reference to the man sitting there. He felt kind of sorry for her, actually. She probably wasn't used to this kind of blatant harassment, but she seemed to be handling it well enough. He figured she was probably much like the others, and was looking forward to gaining the kind of attention this bar encouraged towards supernaturals. Neon just assumed he hated it because he was human and didn't understand the appeal. Or maybe it was just the abundance of vampires..

    From across the room he could feel the vampiress from earlier eyeing his back and it made his shoulders tense up. He had the sneaking suspicion that she was going to cause some kind of trouble. Sure enough, she was slowly standing and walking to the curtained side of the room, hardly taking her eyes off of him, when she disappeared into the only room draped with heavy black curtains instead of red. Marcel was going to hear yet another complaint tonight. Neon hadn't turned to look, but he had an itch between his shoulders that made him cringe. Looking mildly nervous, he calmed asked the bartender while he waited for his drinks, "Did that vampire I was speaking to earlier just get up and go to the black curtains?" He could have just turned around to see her gone and known, but he didn't want to. Not yet.
    #3 Tsimmu, Sep 8, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 20, 2014
  4. As the man stood before her she leaned her head ever so subtly towards him, sniffing at him. The action was soft and subtle but it wasn’t meant to be sneaky. The wolf in her needed to smell each person that came to, to understand who they were. She furrowed when she realized she couldn’t place the smell. He looked human but he didn’t smell quite human. Nor was he a vampire. His scent puzzled her but she tried not to let it show. “I’m starting to understand that.” She replied to him when he said persistent customers were a normal occurrence. She nodded when he told her what drinks he needed and she quickly went to work making them for him. Paying the human beside her little mind. She was somewhat pleased with the distraction Neon gave.

    Her dark eyes looked up to catch the sarcastic eye roll and Neon motion towards the human. She looked down and gave a soft smile, knowing what he meant. “I’m used to it.” Her tone less cherry than it had been. Suggesting the attention wasn’t exactly what she liked. “Male’s in my pack are dogs… No pun intended.” She said pushing one drink towards him as she started on the next. She briefly took note of the female vampire walking away from her table but Blade paid it no further mind. Until Neon asked where’d she went. The lycan looked up to notice the female did indeed go into the black curtains.

    She finished the second drink and handed it to him. “Yes she did… Why?” She could sense the tension on Neon and she started to wonder what was behind that room. “What’s behind the black curtains?” She said curiously as she busied herself with wiping the counter.
  5. "Oh." He hesitated, thinking whether he should say anything or not, but decided there was no harm in it. After all, she was new and there wasn't much she would have picked up on. "That's just where the main office is. If she knew where it was, she must know Marcel, the restaurant owner." She may or may not have had the job interview with him, it could have been with some other management employee. Now that Neon knew where she'd gone he was getting distracted. He didn't want to tell her that he knew why she was probably going in there to speak with Marcel, certain that she was going to be yet another complaint towards why Neon wasn't up for grabs in the club like so many others were. But his situation with Marcel was a complex one that stretched deeper back into his roots than just an employee-manager relationship.

    And Neon was just waiting for the day when one more complaint was too much. Their 'deal' would need to be renegotiated.

    Coming back to her earlier comment in his mind, he glanced at her. "I'm sorry to hear that." Only after she'd said that she had a pack did he realize she must be a werewolf. Neon's knowledge of the supernatural was limited to what he'd read in books. Often inaccurate, he could name a lot of thing but didn't know much about any of them. Werewolves were something that vampires didn't see eye to eye with most of the time, and so he hadn't had many interactions with the race. He didn't have any problem with them himself, though. But honestly this was probably the most conversation he'd had with any actual employees here in the time he'd worked there. He knew it was his own fault, because he kept to himself and avoided personal interactions, but the fact was he didn't mind having someone to relate to, now that someone had ignored his personal bubble.

    Regardless, he knew he needed to get out of here, if only for a little while. He had a feeling there was an argument brewing, and it didn't bode well.

    Taking both of the finished drinks in hand, he gave her a quick nod, thanked her, and took off towards the table where he'd last been harassed. The vampiress had not returned from her 'meeting'. The other vampire at the table gave him a knowing glance, but said nothing as he laid down their drinks. She might then see Neon take off for a corner of the room, where he disappeared out into the street to take a breather where employees normally went for breaks.

    Shortly after the smell of angry vampire wafted out into the bar area, and the vampiress from earlier came back to her table, her ire thinly veiled. She took her gin and slammed in back before a wicked smirk came over her. Suddenly looking sultry, she sauntered out of the bar.

    A split second before, he knew she was there. Neon moved, but it wasn't fast enough. She had him by the back of the neck, while her other hand pressed into his lower back. "You aren't human, you know." She muttered quietly near his ear. "There's nothing human about you." He stood stock still for only a moment, before he tried to fight back, his knee aiming for her torso. But she stopped him mid-swing, simply by squeezing his neck, as though scruffing a puppy. He froze and shuddered. "You can't hide your nature from me, slave. Your physical scars may heal but someone will always own you." Neon huffed, helpless in this hold. She's right. Her nails pressed into his back and he made a strangled noise. I can't escape it. She pulled him into her, but a second before she could bite him Marcel appeared out of the dark. Several of the people inside the bar had started to mumble about noises outside, which was unsurprising since so many of them were supernaturals with superb hearing, and Marcel had taken notice. He ripped the other vampire off of him with fierce speed, tossing her into a brick wall of the alley, a brief snarl on his lips before he smiled grimly at her, voice deep and cordial with a hint of French accent. "You may take your leave this time, but as I said, he is off limits." His eyes flicked to Neon, and he no more than mouthed the words, "For now." Pinpricks of blood were welling up on his neck, but it was only from her nails digging in. "You cannot protect him unbound, Marcel! He will go astray!" She hissed at the both of them, and Neon cringed at being referred to as property. "A contract is just as binding, ma cher. Regardless, he is not yours. Do not come back to La Clé Secrète. You will not be welcome." He was still grinning at her. Composing herself, she stalked off. Only once she was far enough away did Marcel turn back to Neon. "Take the night off. I can't have you walking around the club like that, lest you tempt any more customers with the prospect of free blood. We will have a discussion tomorrow evening." Neon simply nodded dumbly, still slightly in shock from what had just happened as Marcel disappeared back into the club, passing any curious onlookers on his way. Neon knew better than to say thank you to Marcel for this show of 'kindness', because it didn't come for free. He would be paying for it in spades later on.

    That vampire had known. She had known what she was doing. He didn't know how, because this had never happened while working here so far, and he didn't recognize her from any past associations. Feeling both relieved and distraught, he leaned back against the rough wall and slid down in into a sitting position, legs out in front of him. "I really can't get away, can I?" He mumbled to himself. "I'm destined to be vampire bait forever." What really had his mind reeling was the way his body had betrayed him. He still responded to the cues, a year later, and it simply killed him to know that.
    #5 Tsimmu, Sep 10, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 20, 2014
    • Love Love x 1
  6. Blade shrugged off his apology. Her pack’s behavior was something she’d grown up with so it no longer bothered her as much. Though she did know it was wrong. He left with his drinks and she returned to making drinks for customers. “So how come you’re not up there dancing?” Cooed the persistent human. Blade brushed her raven locks from her face and for once was happy to be the new girl. “Well…” She started out as she poured him another drink. “I have to work my way up to that position.” She said walking away. “Hey alright!” He seemed pleased with the future thought of seeing the lycan on stage. “I’ll put in a good word for ya baby.” He said as he took a sip of his whisky. Ugh please don’t… Blade thought as she tended to someone else.

    After a few she had a moment to go to the restroom. She washed her hands after words but paused a moment to look herself in the mirror. The employee restrooms were not far from the alley where Neon was trying to have a moment of peace. She frown and tugged on the annoying black collar on her neck, hating how much like a ‘pet’ it made her look. A soft growl rumbled from her throat as she sneered at the object. But she couldn’t complain too much. She was away from her abusive alpha and she was sure Marcel wouldn’t allow him to lord over her here. After all this was his territory. She pulled a few paper towels and dried her hands. But she held them in her hands as suddenly a muffled voice boomed from outside. Something that caught her attention.

    "You cannot protect him unbound, Marcel! He will go astray!"

    Blade whipped around and tried to listen more but through these walls the reply was inaudible. She knew little of the owner and her boss but she was sure being yelled at was not something he tolerated. Cautiously she came from the bathroom, trying to listen to any further words but whatever took place was now over. She heard Marcel tell someone to take the night off and she, along with other nosy employees tried to ease drop. Although they tried to get back to work when he entered. She should have followed suit but for being treated like an omega Blade had a strong will and mind. Tentatively she stepped out catching Neon in his despair. The way he looked at that moment was like looking at a mirror, he reminded her so much of herself at that moment. So much so she could not turn heel and leave him crumpled in the dark alley.

    She walked cautiously to him, the faint scent of fresh blood misted the air. Was he attacked by that vampire? The marks on his neck said that was a high possibility. Wordlessly she knelt beside him. Looking in her hands she still held the damp paper towels, after a brief thought she handed them to him. Offering them as a means to clean the blood. “I’d like to think there’s always a way to escape. To get away.” She said with her eyes towards the pavement. “I like to think there’s always hope.” The smell of blood did draw the wolf closer to the surface but it only perked mild interest. Blood didn’t have the same effect on lycans as it did vampires. After all they didn’t need it to survive. “You okay? What happened?” She asked tentatively.
  7. Neon was so deep into his self-doubt internal monologue that he didn't notice anyone was there until he heard her voice. As she tried to hand him the towels he jerked as though he'd expected to be grabbed again, bringing his head up from his knees, then calmed as he realized who it was. Most everyone else had wandered back inside after Marcel had gone back in, as they weren't interested enough to get in any trouble with their Master vampire boss.

    He hesitantly took the paper towels from her hand, briefly looking at her before he glanced back down, pressing the cooling paper to his bloodied neck. He took a deep breath as though trying to draw in the energy to speak, then sighed. "That customer from earlier wasn't too happy that I wasn't dancing." That was putting it mildly, which he guessed she probably knew. He had noticed the hint of sadness in her words as she spoke of hope, and thought back to her comment about her pack members. He ran a gloved hand through his hair - a nervous habit. "Marcel told me to go home for the night.." He obviously wasn't mentioning something, by the way he averted his eyes. "Thank you for checking on me." Feeling guilty for making her stay out here on the street, he stood abruptly. The damp towels were still draped on his neck as he glanced at her again. "I do mean that." Without another word, Neon turned and left for the street beyond the alleyway. Despite what had just happened, Neon could take care of himself when it came to normal fights. But that female vampire had played dirty, and hit him where he was most vulnerable.

    Neon still couldn't bring himself to get emotionally attached to someone. He feared the way he would react to normal social interactions after what he had been through, because he had so few examples of it in his adulthood. Though he was convinced deep down that there was nothing he could possibly be except human, he often felt like an outsider in his own world, unable to connect with other people. He worked for a vampire in a supernatural bar, where even the humans that came in assumed he must be something exotic. To top his night off though, he had a sinking feeling that Marcel's little 'talk' was going to end very poorly for him. He could only hope that the words of that vampire bitch hadn't gotten into his head too deeply.

    Finally back at his one bedroom apartment, he slunk in and collapsed on the tiny bed. It was an average low-end place, with barely enough room for a futon in the main area and hardly a wall separating the closet-sized kitchen and bedroom. He wasn't paid poorly per-say for his work, but he was saving every cent he had to try and make his escape to a new city where he could start fresh. Tonight as he lay on his rock hard bed, he considered whether it was time to face facts and just buy a place that wasn't the size of a bread box to live in. It wasn't as though he was ever going to find a better life for himself after tonight... at least, that's where his mind wandered for the moment.

    Just as he was falling asleep on his back, staring at the ceiling, he wondered why that new bartender had been so kind to him. If anything he exuded an air of reclusiveness around others, shying away from interaction. But she seemed to have ignored that completely, even when she couldn't figure out what he was, just like everyone else. As he closed his eyes, a small part of him hoped he could someday have a friend. But friendship required trust, and at this point he had very little of that left to give.
    #7 Tsimmu, Sep 12, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 20, 2014
  8. She nodded when he explained that the attack was caused by an unhappy customer. It seemed extreme for the female vampire to lash out like that. There had to be something more here than he was letting on. His eyes stared at one place in the asphalt and he refused to meet her gaze. But this of course Blade knew was none of her business. She remained quiet till he spoke again. She nodded again when he said he was sent home for the night, her eyes following him as he abruptly stood up. “I should get back before they realize I’m gone.” She said as she stood up, tugging at her skirt to lengthen it as much as possible. She glanced up at him as he thanked her. Blade merely smiled and looked down. “You’re welcome.” She replied softly as she looked up. His parting words were met with a smile as she nodded and returned to the building.

    The rest of the night was spent giving neutral reactions to the human as he drank more and more. Serving other servers in silence as her mind refused to stop thinking about the green haired man. She learned from the other gossiping servers that his name was Neon. That he was Marcel’s ‘pet’ of sorts since he didn’t dance. It was then she realized that she’d eventually have to dance. The very thought was abhorrent to her and she started to worry that this place was no better than her pack. Is that why her alpha allowed her here? Because it wouldn’t be much different than how he and his beta treated her? But this had to be better than being their personal bitch.

    As Blade went home she was pleasantly surprised on how much cash she acquired, even for her first day. Though she knew she needed to hide some away. The alpha and beta of her pack always tried to steal the bulk of any money she made. Thankfully they didn’t come tonight. Her apartment was on the edge of the packs territory. Being an omega she wasn’t given the protection as the rest of the pack. In a rundown part of town in a shambly old building was her little studio apartment. The room was terribly small but the woman had done wonders with the small space. Decorated with white linins and decorative pictures on the white walls. Her tan futon acting as both couch and bed as it faced a tiny tv. The kitchen was clean though various pots sat out to collect any dripping water that dripped through the tall ceilings. She even had a small two person table which acted as her dining table. A white with a soft floral design curtain cut off the space, creating a bathroom around her tub and toilet.

    She tossed her keys onto her small table then eagerly ripped off the annoying collar. Walking the short distance to the futon she plopped down, heaving a sigh as she did so. Strangely the first thing in her head was Neon. Was he alright? Why was she worrying so much about him? Perhaps it was his words. There was a loss of hope in his voice that was eerily familiar to her own. After a while she took a shower and pulled the futon out to prepare for bed. Trying her best not to think of it much more of the night.
  9. In his depression, Neon slept through most of that day. The night before had taken it's toll, and the shock of what had happened along with his dark thoughts kept him up long after he'd dropped into his bed. Just before sundown, he realized he should probably go to the club before dark fell, lest he run into anything on the way there. He wasn't looking forward to this night.

    Slipping into his tight pants and shirt, he headed to the club.
    One uneventful walk later, Neon slipped quietly into a still opening bar. Officially, the club didn't open until the sun was fully down, which meant opening time was based on the time of year rather than an actual hour of the day. More convenient for the permanent night goers. Instead of waiting around for the inevitable 'talk' that was to come, Neon tried to busy himself with mundane bar prep tasks, like slicing lemons and taking stock. Very few people came in this early, but the moment the sun was fully down is when Marcel would rise from whatever hole he slept in and likely seek him out.

    However, after a couple hours the bar had begun to fill with customers and he still hadn't been called. It was like some kind of torture, knowing it would happen but unable to predict when. He quickly began serving drinks, slipping with ease into the now well-practiced light air of confidence he was expected to have around customers. It was early yet, and most of the patrons were human so far. He wondered if the bartender from the other night would be here, awkwardly realizing he'd never even found out what her name was. He vowed that if he saw her he would correct that, though he was still balking at the idea of getting even remotely close to someone.
    #9 Tsimmu, Sep 18, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 20, 2014
  10. Blade would be in heaven if she had a day of avoidance like Neon did. She started to busy herself with cleaning her already clean studio, making sure to hide a portion of the money made the night before, when her peaceful day was broken. As she expected but loathed, the beta of her pack came to ‘visit’. Tall, dark skinned, dark hair and light brown eyes, Sunder was second in command of the pack. His aggressive treatment could be compared to the Kiiwan pack even though he was pure Mantuu. He of course demanded the money she earned. From which Blade fervently refused to give him…

    It was dark when Blade made it to work, as a lycan she didn’t fear much else than the wrath of her alpha. She was dressed in her uniform, including the damned collar, but today she kept her head low. Trying to avoid eye contact with any employees. Instead she avoided most contact all together, opting to keep busy by setting up the bar with everything she’d need for the night as well as doing inventory of what was in stock at the moment. Though there was no hiding the deep cut on her lip once customers started pouring in. Make-up covered the majority of the bruise but it still wasn’t subtle. Still she tried to carry on as though it didn’t exist.

    Through all the smells that drifted through the club one caught her attention. The earthy spiced cinnamon and cloves that belonged to the man that was attacked the night before. Neon was his name if she remembered correctly. Or at least that’s what the other employees called him. She wondered about him a moment. Curious if he was healed after his attack or if something further happened to him. She tried to spy him while pouring drinks.
  11. The pin pricks on his neck were mostly healed tonight, he could still feel them if he touched his skin, but they were not very visible. He was good at healing for a human - yet another thing that vampires tended to like about him. Regardless of his mood he was trying to appear normal, or whatever that was for him. Another order, and he goes back to the bar, finally spotting the werewolf from the other night. He didn't need more than a few seconds to notice that she was covered in bruises and small cuts. Somewhere deep down a part of him bristled with anger as he saw her change in demeanor. It brought back terrible memories, the feeling of repression and submission that was so fresh in his mind from the night before, and a protectiveness he hadn't felt in a very, very long time stirred within him. But it didn't last. How was he supposed to protect anyone if he couldn't even do so for himself? She is a supernatural, they know how to take care of themselves. Yet this was very odd. He wanted to ask what had happened, but he didn't even know her name.

    Needing a drink for the table he'd just seen anyway, he went over to the bar where she was serving instead of the one he was stationed at. There were about four actual bar areas in the club, each with it's own bartenders. It didn't really matter, right? Just a few extra steps to take. He made a point to not look at any of her injuries, even the most obvious one on her lip, that looked so fresh he swore it could only have been bleeding a few hours ago. What the hell had happened to her? The echo of her words from the night before came back to him. Her pack. She was used to it. From what he knew of werewolves, he had always thought they were the protective sort, looking out for one another as a pack unit and taking care of each other. Perhaps this was the reality. Instead his deep green eyes stared at hers, as much as he could with the way she was averting them. He tried to give her a faint smile. "One vodka martini." He looked around, then back to her, and practically mouthed the words. "Are you okay?" Almost instantaneously he visibly jumped at the voice from right behind him. "Ahh, making friends are we."

    It was unclear who Marcel was talking to, Neon or the werewolf bartender, but his grey eyes were heavy upon her as he leaned from over Neon's shoulder. His gaze was one of evaluation. Marcel could only be described as gorgeous, with the kind of eyes and smile that could melt butter, but being a vampire meant he had that oh-so-common deathly white pallor to his skin, which made his medium length black hair stand out shockingly. His features were very French, and he was a couple of heads taller than Neon. He was wearing a dark purple button up shirt with the first three buttons undone suggestively, and loose black slacks over his heavy boots. The look on Neon's face said he was somewhere between having a heart attack and wanting to strangle Marcel for sneaking up on him like that. Marcel was ridiculously old - Neon still wasn't sure how old - and he pretty much just appeared and disappeared at will. Marcel took everything in before he blinked and straightened himself. There was an easy smile on his face, but it had a slyness to it. With his eyes were still on her, he spoke to Neon. "Come. We have matters to discuss." A small breath escaped Neon, as though he'd been holding one in this whole time, and he nodded. Marcel turned to go and Neon obediently followed him through those black curtains. A different server came and got the drink he'd ordered for his customer.

    Their Conversation - Spoilers Abound (open)
    As soon as Neon entered that back room, he knew how this conversation was going to go. Marcel sat behind his elegant business desk and gestured for Neon to sit across from him. Neon's expression was hard and stubborn, something he didn't really ever show on the floor. He'd had all day to think about how he would approach this talk and had steeled himself as best he could, having already dealt with Marcel for nearly a year.
    Their Conversation - Spoilers Abound (open)

    Marcel spoke first. "Last night was obviously a mistake, it should never have gotten that far." That was about as close as Neon was going to get to an apology, so all he did was nod in response. "But it brings us back to a distinct problem..." He trailed off, staring unblinkingly at Neon across the table. Neon had heard it all before, but this time he just blurted out his thoughts. "I'm not going naked." Marcel smirked to show one fang and then abruptly laughed, causing Neon to flush bright red as he realized his poor phrasing. "Oh dear boy, we do not do nude dancing at this establishment." Marcel said through a chuckle. Still red and looking pissed off, Neon grumbled. "That is not what I meant and you know it. I already know what you're going to ask me to do, but I'm not showing off this." He held up his right palm toward Marcel in emphasis of the word, trying to make his point clear. The vampire just smirked at him. "You had that option. You could avoid the stage by being a walking spectacle. Or you could even be the most popular dancer here, simply by exposing your vraie nature, becoming the only truly obvious surnaturel in the eyes of a human. Yet you choose rather to squander your gift." Marcel shrugged, as though disappointed at the thought. Neon glared at him. "I am not a supernatural, I am a freak. I have nothing to offer anyone by showing it off." Marcel shrugged again, able to tell he would not be convinced, as usual. He had been fighting Neon on this point for a while now, slowly trying to break him down. He tread carefully, knowing that their contract could only extend so far, and at the moment Neon could walk out if he chose - though it was at his own peril should he do so. Regardless, Marcel knew that if he pushed too hard, it might just happen. "I cannot protect you if you do not give me more to work with. More of her ilk will always come, and they must be appeased. They hover around you like a cat does a bird, like prey." He emphasized this by showing his fangs as he smiled. Neon took a deep breath before speaking. "I'll dance," Marcel chuckled at him. "Yes, you will do no less than that." But Neon had been stewing on this since he'd seen that werewolf at the bar this evening, and forged onward. "And," He hesitated, steeling himself. "I'll make a small bond, but in exchange I want immunity for her." He prayed Marcel knew who he was talking about. The old vampire raised an eyebrow at that, surprised by this sudden change of heart. "The werewolf?" Neon nodded, unable to speak for his nerves. "Ahh, now that is something you will need to convince her of yourself." Marcel was not going to reveal that he had already had a problem with seeing one of his employees in such condition. She had signed a contract with him as well, and even though unlike Neon it was only for a job, it was still a binding contract. Marcel was smirking at him from across the table again. "If she is interested in such, then you have a deal." He pulled something from the desk and dropped it on the table between them, landing with a small clatter of metal. "Now, back to the floor. You have some work ahead of you, ma cher."

    When Neon returned about half an hour later, he looked visibly shaken, but he was holding himself together well. All in all the only real change was that now he too was wearing a collar - black leather with a ring of small silver studs. The only employees that didn't wear them were humans, but most patrons wouldn't know the difference. To them it was just for aesthetics, and added to the club atmosphere. But to a few it was a marker that said not human. Neon hated it, but he'd brought it upon himself. It was his punishment for refusing to show off his deformity. He returned to her bar with a slight drag in his step, but he tried to give her a half-hearted smile to tell her he was okay. "So, I guess I'm too late to pick up that drink, huh?" He sat at the bar in front of her and leaned his arms on the bar top. Screw Marcel, he was going to take a short break here. "I'm sorry about that." His voice was sincere. "By the way, I don't think I ever caught your name." He held out his gloved right hand to her. "I'm Neon."
    #11 Tsimmu, Sep 20, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 20, 2014
    • Love Love x 1
  12. An air of confidence surrounded Neon as he moved about the club. He seemed alright after his event from the other night. Sadly she didn’t know him well enough to see through the bluff he was putting on. Though to her surprise he came her way. She knew enough about the establishment that each server went specifically to a certain bar tender for their drinks, as it didn’t make much sense to walk clear across the club. She returned the faint smile he gave her, looking up at him as she made another mixed drink for another customer. Blade gave a nod to his request. “Let me finish this long island and I’ll get it for you.” She said glancing back to the drink in her hand.

    Then a wave hit her. The over powering bouquet of death and decay layered with a gentle French cologne scratched at the wolf almost making her snort in an attempt to get the smell out. This was the smell of a vampire but any wolf knew the stronger the smell of death, the more powerful the vampire. Her dark eyes lifted to see none other than Marcel behind Neon. Where did he come from? It was like he wasn’t there and then suddenly was. She paused, reading Neon’s lips but she didn’t answer. Instead Marcel spoke first, his unwavering gaze upon her. Marcel was absolutely easy on the eyes to her, his eyes being his most alluring feature but the wolf couldn’t get past the deathly pale skin and smell of death.

    Thankfully even Neon seemed startled by his sudden appearance. Blade assumed the question was directed at her since he was looking at her, though she started to second guess herself about that. “He’s just ordering a drink, sir.” She said submissively as she just started at the odd vampire. He didn’t reply but took Neon away to ‘discuss’ something. Blade instantly worried she’d gotten him in trouble somehow. Never did she think his stare was at her cuts and bruises from her brawl with the pack beta Sunder. She’d not had much interactions nor did she have much knowledge of vampire so she wasn’t sure if they were possessive like lycans tended to be. In any event she didn’t have time to talk as she current customer started to complain about their drink taking too long. She quickly finished it and made the martini for Neon.

    Business evened out and slowed down a bit but Blade knew this was merely the calm before the storm. It would undoubtedly get busy later on, or at least she assumed so. It didn’t seem much longer before the familiar spicy earthy smell drew her eyes up. Neon was walking her way, although his demeanor had very much changed. And he now sported a collar on his neck like she did. She knew what the collar meant but didn’t understand why he was suddenly required to wear it. His smile tried to convey a lie that she did her own self far too often. But she didn’t call him out instead gave a return smile. She chuckled softly, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “Ah no sorry. You took too long and I drank it myself.” She mused with a playful smile.

    She’d just wiped the counter and paused expecting him to spout out a drink needed but instead he sat down. This wasn’t overly uncommon, many servers stopped a moment to chat with their favored bartenders. But Blade hadn’t expected this attention, though she welcomed it. He apologized but she wasn’t sure what it was for. She shook her head flippantly, dismissing the apology with a smile. Looking back up to him as he asked her name. She nodded as she heard his name actually was Neon. “Well last night wasn’t exactly a night for introductions.” She said half joking. “I’m Bladerunner. But most people just call me Blade.” She smiled wider but a tiny flinch in her face said the tugging on the cut was painful. While they were taking a moment she pulled a water bottle from under the counter and took a sip, looking cautiously around for the mysterious Marcel before she spoke again. “So… When Marcel took you in the office…” She started timidly. “I didn’t get you in trouble did I?” Her mind not currently on the event of the night before, rather him coming to talk to her.
  13. When she teased him about drinking his order herself, his small smile briefly became a genuine one. As he sat he tried to relax, but the collar itched and he had to try very hard not to reach up and scratch at it. "Blade... it's nice to officially meet you." He'd noticed her pained look, but what took him off guard was her question. Not so much that she was curious about their conversation, but when she asked him if it had been her fault. "You?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "No, no. My relationship with Marcel is..." He hesitated, trailing off. "It's complicated." He sighed and stared at the counter top of the bar. "We had to discuss the events of last night." His hand unconsciously reached towards his neck as he thought about it, and he brought it down quickly when he realized he was doing it. Looking sheepish about the movement, he shrugged and gave another nervous smile, trying to play it off as nothing. "Trust me. It was just bad timing. I knew we were going to talk at some point tonight." His right fingers tapped against the table, making almost no noise in their glove casing.

    A moment later the smile faded, and Neon became more serious. "But like I tried to say earlier... are you doing alright?" He looked worried, and he was concerned about her. But he also wanted to take the conversation off of him, anything to keep from discussing why he was wearing a collar now and what that might imply. Marcel had said that he would have to deal with this himself, and talking about her problems was part of it. Neither of them had missed her injuries despite her trying to hide them. Especially not Neon - he was too familiar with that particular skill to miss it on someone else.
  14. Nice to officially meet her? If she’d been in her wolf form Blade was sure her tail would be softly wagging and the kind comment. As it wasn’t often that someone was kind to her, at least not for long. She nodded when he tried to convey that the ‘talk’ between him and Marcel wasn’t about her. Or rather that he wasn’t in trouble because of her. He went on to admit that the relationship between him and Marcel was complicated and it briefly made her wonder if what exactly that detailed. But of course she said not a word about it. She just nodded again. Her eyes did not miss the gesture to scratch or move it irritating collar. After he stated it was merely bad timing she gave a smile and spoke. “It’s irritating isn’t it?” She said tugging at her own annoying collar.

    That was all she said about the accessory. She left out her curiosity as to why he suddenly had to wear it. The cool water felt soothing on the cut on her lip and she let the wet water sit on her lips before licking them. Though that seemed to irritate it again. Silence fell between them as he tapped quietly on the bar as she placed the drink back on the lowest shelf. She stood up and looked at him as he asked his question. There was genuine concern in his voice, sincere worry in his features. It was enough to make her tense up as her mind flashed back to earlier in the day.

    What happened to her… (open)
    A sharp knock on the door drew the female lycan away from her cleaning. It was harsh and abrasive and it could only be one person. The hair on her neck stood on end as she stared at the door defensively. Letting out a sigh she walked to the door, knowing Sunder would lose his patience if she took too long. As she opened the door she was hit with that all too familiar scent of pine. Sunder was tall, looking very Spanish or Italian in heritage with dark bronze skin and black hair. His light brown eyes gave her a demeaning look as he grinned darkly at her. He was leaning on the door frame making him much closer than Blade anticipated but she tried not to show fear.

    She returned his grin with a blank look, her dark eyes sparking with a little defiance. “What do you want?” She asked in a sour tone but Sunder just pushed the door open further and let himself in. “I just came to visit, pup.” He said cockily as he paced around the home, clearly looking for something. Blade rolled her eyes as he barged in, closing the door behind her. Looking at him with her arms crossed over her chest. “Visit huh?” She said as he ever started to pick up things, looking under them. “Can I help you, Sunder? What are you looking for?” She said with a snap in her tone. Which wasn’t missed by the beta. Slowly he turned to eye her. Cocking his head as though he wasn’t sure he just heard that tone. “I suggest you drop that tone, Omega.” He warned as he walked to her. “And I’m looking for what you owe me.” He said reaching a hand to sensually touch her face. Blade jerked her face away as she glared at him.

    “That money is mine. I earned it. I owe you nothing.” She said firmly, a slight growl in her voice. Sunder cocked his head to the side, amber burning on the edge of his eyes as his wolf rose to the surface, clearly not liking the females challenge. “That’s cute how you think you deserve it. You’re a half breed bitch that doesn’t belong in either pack. You owe us everything for letting you stay.” He snarled looking her up and down as he grabbed her face to push her away. Being half Pack Mantu and half Pack Kiiwan, her packs sworn rival, was something she was reminded nearly everyday. She staggered back as she looked submissively down. “Give me the money, or I’ll take it from you.” He growled. But he did not expect to heard the deep guttural growl come from Blade, nor did he expect to see her once dark brown eyes shine with golden brilliance as her wolf came to the surface. She stared at him in challenging defiance. “No. I earned it, it’s mine.” Her voice deep with wolfish growls.

    This defiance she’d pay dearly for. Sunder let out a snarl as amber took over his brown eyes, long white canines protruding from his gums as he bared his teeth at her. “You get a new job and you suddenly think your top dog? I’ll put you in your place!” He howled as he suddenly cocked a fist back and hit the female in the jaw, knocking her down. But something in Blade snapped awake and instead of whimpering and cowering she changed into her werewolf form. Deep brown and silver fur erupted all over her body, claws grew from her hands as she leapt for the beta. Sunder was knocked to the ground out of surprise but after he took the form of his rusty brown and black wolf he quickly retaliated. From there it was a flurry of fur and blood with the bellowing sound of two lycans in full combat. In this small space, Blade didn’t have room to move and once Sunder got a hold of her she was tossed about like a rag doll. Smashing her precious pictures on the walls and breaking shelves.

    After a moment he slammed her to the ground, his muzzle close to her face as he snarled and bared his teeth. The money really wasn’t worth everything she’d just gone through. Howling whimpers left her as she pointed to the broken shelf the tv once sat on, her eyes submissively avoiding his. In his grasp she shifted back into her human form. Clothing ripped, torn and bloody as she curled into a ball. Sunder let her go and moved on all fours to the wooden mess. After a moment he found the money under the smashed tv. Collecting what he came for he shifted back into his human form. Grabbing her hair he forced her to look at him. “Next time you’ll remember your place.” He sneered as he let her go and left the trashed studio apartment.

    A shiver went down Blade’s spine, something that was obviously visible and she avoided eye contact with Neon. The memory was all too vivid and her bruises and cuts ached as if it was not long ago. As an Omega she was stupid to challenge the beta like she did. She wished she’d just given him the money and been done with it. Though she still had a small amount stashed else where that he didn’t get to. “I’m fine… Just… Stupidity on my part.” She said giving a quick smile before she avoided his eyes. Now she wished the attention was off of her for the moment. She busied herself with cleaning the counter, which was already spotless.
  15. Another charged moment of silence passed. Knowing all too well that the look in her face meant she was avoiding saying something, Neon backed off. It was very tempting to try to dig deeper, but he had also appreciated that she hadn't dug deeper into his issues regarding the collar. Regardless, he needed to know. It was better he get it out of her, rather than Marcel try to intimidate it out of her later. An idea came to his mind, something that might work for both of them in the end. Besides, there was no point in trying to keep this particular secret from her anyway, she was bound to find out very soon. He would offer her knowledge about why he was now wearing a collar, and maybe that would make her feel more comfortable around him, enough to talk about what had happened. A black eye and cut lip that severe didn't happen from something as simple as clumsiness..

    He took a deep breath and bit his lip nervously. "Well, how about a deal then..." It was right about then that a customer, a regular that knew him, came up to the bar where he was sitting and got in his face. Fortunately this one was human, but one he particularly disliked - she was very touchy feel-y. Neon had a problem with being touched.

    She had platinum blonde hair and perfectly manicured red nails to match her red lipstick. When she placed her small hands on his wide shoulders he noticeably bristled. "Leanna, we've talked about this.." He grumbled without looking back at her, tension in his stance. This was one customer that he didn't put on his mask for - he did everything he could to discourage her, but her attitude was constantly one of bouncy optimism. "Oh I know dear but oh my GOD you're finally getting on stage! You better get used to it big boy, I just can't wait to see all that lean body of yours!" She practically sang right into his ear, and gave his shoulders a squeeze. Neon's already darker skin took on a deep red hue at the mention of dancing in such... lewd terms. He sighed, trying to stay patient. "Leanna, you know you aren't supposed to touch the dancers. It's a show, not a lap dance." She pouted at him, running a finger over one of the studs on his collar. "You take all the fun out of it." Neon tried and failed not to smirk at hearing her say that, and rolled his shoulders to try and get her hands off. It worked, but he swore he heard her sigh happily, which quickly ruined his small victory. He rested his arm on the back of the chair and turned to look back at her, looking totally disinterested. "Yes, I do. Now please, go get into trouble somewhere else." She huffed at him, still pouting. "Fine." She knew he was right. She had gotten into some trouble with the bouncers before for being a little too enthusiastic during shows. Marcel let her keep coming back anyway, claiming the bouncers would get bored otherwise. Neon had a feeling he probably just thought it was amusing to watch. Sticking her tongue out at him in an attempt to be huffy and flirtatious at the same time, she turned and went back to her table. Neon turned back to the bar and made a gagging motion in reference to the encounter. More importantly, so much for that secret. Now what...?

    He gave her a defeated look and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, there's that." His arms crossed over his chest and he looked at the bar top. His mind wandered back to what the annoying woman had said and a little bit of red returned to his cheeks. "I mean, anyway, I was going to suggest a deal. I'll tell you one of my secrets, and you tell me one of yours. Sound fair?" He would have to think of what was something not too deep and dark but not too mundane to tell her now. He'd been about to tell her about the dancing, but that was prematurely announced now. He'd have to go a little deeper. "Remember how I mentioned my connection with Marcel is complicated?" He looked around, as though worried someone might overhear, and then leaned in close to her. Fortunately, the bar had picked up and it was too loud for someone to eavesdrop easily. "I'm not really an employee here, so to speak." He cleared his throat. "I'm kind of... how do I put this. Kind of on the run? I... work here in exchange for protection." He didn't want to go into too much detail - at least not here. He got up abruptly from his chair, and suddenly his mask was back in place. "If you want to talk, grab me on your next break. I'll be around." And with that, he hurried back over to his own bar to take up any drinks he may have missed, continuing on with the night as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Deep down, he hoped he had sparked her curiosity enough to open up to him. It was the best he could do.
  16. Dark eyes lifted to a new smell sauntering her way. It was the over powering scent of cheap perfumes and heavy cosmetics. So much so that Blade gave a sneeze as her scenes couldn’t stand the smell of the human female. Covering her face as she sneezed she managed to give an odd look to Neon as he mentioned a deal. Though the female interrupted what he was going to propose. This time Neon seemed to not hide his displeasure with this woman. His expression and tension screamed for her to get off him. That’s when Blade noticed a strange itch. The hair on her neck stood on end and a growl threatened to leave her. The itch was her wanting to aide Neon in shooing this female away. This was a foreign sensation to her but it was natural for lycans to be protective of whom they considered ‘their own’.

    She remained silent however. Not giving the human another look but something did catch her attention. The collar meant more than the wearer was a super natural creature. Humiliating fear gripped her heart as she wondered, would she have to dance too? The very thought of such a lewd act nearly made her panic. It brought bad memories back to her and she shuddered at the thought. Once the woman left she quickly asked her taunting question. “The collars mean more than just who’s supernatural and who’s not?” She said, clearly worry in her voice.

    The Neon proposed a strange question. Tell one of her secrets? She didn’t quite understand where he was going with that question but he started to open up with her. “Er… Okay…” She said tentatively. Both cautious and curious as to where this would lead. Though she never expected what he said. His secret was far more than something simple but something deeply personal, at least that was the way she took it. She furrowed her brows in both worry and confusion. That was one hell of a secret. But before she could even finish taking in what he told her let alone think of some secret thing about herself, he was off.

    The night wasn’t as busy as she expected it to be but it was enough to keep her tied to the bar for sometime. The man from the night before came back to oogle and swoon over her and she did her best to debuff his advances without being rude. Though she honestly wanted to snarl at him and tell him to back off. A slow moment came and she was able to slip away for a short break. Something the man pouted about as he watched her leave. She left the bathroom and stuck her head out, looking for Neon. Once he came by she gave a smile and decided to start the conversation off with idle chatter. “So how’s your night going?” She asked as she leaned on the wall beside her.
  17. Neon had left in a hurry hoping no one had noticed his absence too greatly. Things had begun to pick up again and he was busy trotting around the tables, from bar to customer at regular intervals. There was no longer much time for idle chatting. At some point during the evening Neon was surprised to see those black curtains from earlier move and Marcel emerge, but he was thoroughly distracted by something. The vampire passed right by him but never glanced at even one of his employees as he went, and mysteriously exited through the front door. This was very unusual, and Neon wasn't the only employee to notice, but he decided to not worry about it. If it had to do with him, he had a feeling he would know soon enough.

    Neon wasn't thinking too much about anything right now, too busy trying to keep up his facade of cheery flirtation. He did felt a tug of guilt, though, for leaving her hanging like that. He hadn't gotten a chance to tell her but no, she wasn't in danger of dancing unless she requested to. The collar did indicate that someone was supernatural, because humans here did not dance, but his collar had studs, which also meant he would be dancing. Most of the time, bartenders weren't expected to dance. And under normal circumstances, servers weren't expected to dance either, though some did anyway because they wanted to do both. Neon didn't have a choice in the matter, and after almost a solid year of complaints that he wasn't one of the dancers, Marcel had dropped hints that he could make his life infinitely easier if he just got on stage. He'd also tried to tell Neon that taking off his arm covers would be easier as well, but Neon was not going to even consider that option.

    As the night wore on, Neon was wearing down. He was glad when he finally caught sight of Blade, hiding around the corner just before the bathroom stalls. She had managed to slip away with the waning crowd, and he decided he would join her as he set down his last urgent drink order and slipped away. Her smile reassured him that she hadn't taken his leaving suddenly personally, and he returned it briefly. "Busy, apparently. Who goes to a nightclub on a Wednesday, anyway?" He mocked, but deep down he thought it was a legitimate question. Didn't people have jobs anymore? Well, maybe the supernaturals tended not to.. Feeling the guilt come back, he blurted out an apology. "Look, I'm sorry about running off earlier. I was a little nervous I might get in trouble for sitting around too long." He glanced outside then looked back to her. "About the collar. Yes, my collar means I'll be dancing on some nights. But I'll still be serving as well." He tapped one of the metal studs, his nail making a small *tink* against the hard surface. He realized then that she probably didn't know what the collar types meant. "Plain collars mean that you're supernatural, studded collars mean you dance, and spiked collars mean..." He trailed off then, not comfortable talking about it. The true meanings of the collars were not meant to be extremely common knowledge, to help keep things under control. That meant that only people on the inside, regulars that were known to play by the rules, knew what all the collars meant. He quieted his tone, leaning closer to her ear so he could whisper. "Don't talk to customers about the collars other than the supernatural bit, if they ask. Spiked collars are an invitation, it means the person wearing them is open to private interactions." There weren't many that wandered around the club wearing spiked collars, to be honest. Those that did were usually only dancers that came in for shows, and usually they were vampires. Neon didn't like to think about that much.
    #17 Tsimmu, Sep 29, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 1, 2014
  18. The mysterious vampires movements were not lost on the new employee. Though she didn’t know him well enough to realize the significance of his actions. Perhaps there was something going on outside? Something that required his authority? That was the lycans best guess. She put it out of her mind not long after he left through the doors. Her time and mind were consumed with keeping the liquor flowing. Neon was kept busy as well as she didn’t see him again till she took a small break.

    Blade did take notice of his eagerness to get away as he quickly set his last drink order down and came to join her. She wondered if his reasons for darting away were the same as hers. To breathe away from the constant swooning of guests and flow of drinks. She chuckled and nodded as he spoke. “I was just thinking that! I would expect a weekend night to be like this. Not a Wednesday.” She said crossing her arms across her chest. He apologized and she softly shook her head and waved it off. “I was worried the boss man would come out of nowhere again. I totally understand you running off.” After a small pause in their conversation he suddenly began to explain the collars. What she learned was both a relief and made her anxious.

    The relief was she’d not be dancing. Her body relaxed a fleeting moment but she quickly grew tense again. The night she met Neon he’d not even been wearing a collar, let alone one that meant he’d be dancing. His entire demeanor suggested this was not the optimal situation for him. Briefly she tried to remember if she’d seen people wearing the spiked collars and it made her wonder why it made him uncomfortable to speak aloud about it. But this train of thought was hush as he drew close to whisper to her. The spicy earthy scent chased away any others that came to her sensitive nose. Her brown eyes flicked up to look at him as he warned not to talk about the collars. She was visibly uncomfortable about the idea, the very thought of her being possibly in that situation.

    “Private interactions? Like-“ She whispered back although suddenly hushed. No wonder her alpha allowed her to work here. It was not only a bar but a strip club and borderline bordello as well. She shook her head, disgusted by the idea. “As long as all I do is serve drinks I’m fine.” She said in a reassuring tone to herself. But her thoughts moved back to Neon. It was obvious not only his reactions to the collar but to that blonde bimbo that he didn’t like the idea of dancing. Then the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Marcel was protecting him but protection never came free as she knew all too well. Absentmindedly she touched her sore lip before she looked back at him. “Marcel upped the price of his protection?” She whispered to him, her demeanor somber. She had sympathy for him and she strangely started to feel a kinship with him. “They always up the price of protection don’t they?” She tried to smile but it was clear talking about it was painful. She took a deep breath and looked away, her eyes seemingly searching the floor. “You told me a deep secret and… I’ll tell you one about me. But not here.” She said looking at him after that last sentence.
    #18 Zizikitty, Oct 1, 2014
    Last edited: Oct 1, 2014
  19. At her question about Marcel, Neon simply nodded. He was thankful he needn't even say it aloud, she had put the pieces together herself and figured it out. But he bit his lip, feeling a little bit guilty but holding his tongue until they could speak somewhere more privately. Inside, Neon was reeling at the idea of dancing, that was true, but his situation wasn't as bad as it could have been... as it had been. Neon's eyes widened slightly in surprise that she was willing to tell him a secret after all. He hadn't been sure that would work. He chewed his lip in thought then nodded sharply. "We'll go out back to the break area." Neon looked around the bar, trying to see if anyone was missing and potentially already there. Not spotting anyone absent, he started in the direction of the back door he had exited through the night before. "It should be empty right now." Finally, he had managed to get her to open up. His motives were entirely selfless, but he still had no intention of telling her the full deal he had made with Marcel, lest it cause her to make a different decision.

    Neon wove his way around the crowd, occasionally checking to make sure she was following, then slipped out the back door. He thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't run into anyone trying to grab at him on the way out. He didn't even want to think about what would happen once he was on stage and those same 'touchy-feely' patrons saw him shirtless for the first time. Neon didn't have that much self-confidence in himself, but he recognized the predatory looks he got from some of the patrons and knew exposing more skin to them was like offering your bare neck to a rabid dog. It was an unfortunate invitation.

    With her last phrase about protection still on his mind, he turned to her and closed the door after her to give them more privacy. Clearly there was something going on in her life that was similar to his, he could just feel it. However, he felt there was probably a very big difference, and it was something he felt he should clear up before the guilt ate him up. "You are right. He did up the price, but I just want to make sure you understand. I don't have the best relationship with Marcel, but it's a working one. He's the Master vampire of this entire city, and I trust him. When I needed help, I came to him, and he didn't have to help me. He's a bit of a manipulator, but that seems to be vampire nature." He spoke a little quickly, as though he was trying to get it out as fast as he could. He didn't know where Marcel had gone, but he hadn't come back into the bar since leaving - at least not visibly. And to an extent Neon hated admitting that he didn't particularly dislike the powerful vampire. There was always the slight risk that if he warmed up to him too much, Marcel would feel like he could push a little harder. Neon had to maintain that emotional wall. He took a deep breath, paused, and released it. "I just... thought you should know that. He's a vampire, but he has a lot of morality for one." He looked back up to her then, shaking his head as though clearing it. "Sorry. Please go ahead. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'll understand." And if anyone did, he did.
  20. Blade didn’t exactly mean she wanted to give secret information about herself here right now. She didn’t want her new co-workers knowing the more private parts of her life. But she still followed him as he seemed eager to talk to her. Was he like this to the others? “It should be… Well at least none of the bartenders are back there.” She replied as she weaved her way to the back with him. Once away from prying eyes and ease dropping ears he started to open up again. Explaining the relationship between Marcel and himself reminded her of her alpha. Marcel was the most powerful vampire in the city and, at least this side of town, and her alpha was the most powerful in the pack.

    Briefly it made her think of him. Though middle aged and old enough to be her father, Oak was assertive and callous but protective and wise to his pack. Some could call him ruthless but he did allow a half breed to stay within the pack when he could have exiled Blade. But that didn’t mean he showed her mercy or kindness. She wondered if Marcel was the same way. He finished his hasty words and Blade nodded. “I didn’t think vampires had morals.” She teased but the same could be said for the more aggressive Kiiwan pack that held control of the other side of the city. Hearing him open up like he did made her want to open to him, but she was clearly hesitant.

    She fidgeted in place and shifted her weight. Her eyes to the ground as she rubbed her cut hands together nervously. “The way you seek protection from Marcel… it’s like my situation. Only… I was born into it.” Her words were slow and carefully chosen. “I am… The omega in my pack. By choice, not by nature. But… I am this way because of what I am… I am neither of the Kiiwan pack not Mantu, but both.” She took a deep shuddering breath as she forced her eyes to the sky. In the city the stars were hard to see but she still looked for them. “I don’t know if you understand what that means. But… I belong nowhere. Kiiwan will and have tried to kill me and the Mantu only tolerate me… I think I’m alive only because Oak made a promise to protect me.”

    She moved to cover her arms, feeling vulnerable. She looked down and somewhat ashamed looking. But she tried to tug her chin up and look down the alley. Trying to keep her pride. “And while I need Oak’s protection… it comes at a price.” She glanced up at him for a fleeting moment. She gave a sigh as though talking about this was painful. “This wasn’t Oak though.” She flippantly motioned to her cuts and bruises. “Oak doesn’t trash me like this.” She said as though she felt stupid. She paused a moment not really wanting to explain what happened but she knew he’d eventually ask who did do the damage. “This was his beta, Sunder’s work.” She said looking down submissively as she kicked a loose pebble with her high heel.
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