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Post by STEPHEN NICOLAS WRIGHT on Jun 3, 2010 2:56:44 GMT
this is our decision to live fast & die young. now lets have some fun. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Being born in the seventeen hundreds, there were certain things you could never quite shake. Like a very classic taste in music. Sure, he was cool with electropop or whatever else was on the top fourty list these days, but he really enjoyed the classics. He liked a good soaring symphony. He wasn’t sure if it was because he legitimately enjoyed the music, however, or more that it reminded him of home. A place he still haunted from time to time, when the night was dark and he had enough time to travel to Devon from London. He couldn’t go in anymore, because he no longer owned it, but he could hover at the windows, watching the family that now lived there. He didn’t know if they were some distant relatives of him or not—nor did he really care to find out. Relations were complicated and binding. He didn’t want those. He treasured his independence. He could go wherever he pleased, whenever he pleased. No one to answer to, no one to protect or bother with. That was probably why he’d never fallen for a girl. It was messy.
The steps to the Opera house were littered with couples and small groups of adults. He liked the Opera house for two reasons. One, no children. He hated children. They screamed, they kicked, and were usually dirty. Ugh. Probably why he could never bring himself to drink from one. They were utterly disgusting. Any place that didn’t have children was a sanctuary in his mind. The second reason, was that they offered private boxes. Private boxes so he could be alone, or, in his case, with a posse of overdressed human females for him to feed on. Nobody bothered him in the boxes, and he could feed in the shadows. Plus, he bought out a box often enough everyone treated him like a fucking king here. Or maybe they just feared him. He didn’t really care which.
A black Lotus Elise squealed into the valet line, the tires creating small puffs of smoke as they came to such a sudden halt. Stephen had no problem drawing attention to himself, he liked a little show. Not like anyone really dared double cross him anyways. Everyone was wonderfully frightened of him. For them, they’d never be able to put their finger on it. The way his smile was slightly evil, the way he looked at them like he owned them. Nobody knew he was a vamp, at least not until he said they did. Compelling the stupid humans was rather fun. Tossing the keys to the startled valet boy, he gave a little nod and continued on his way up the steps. Despite the fact that it was night, his eyes were covered by a pair of sunglasses, and his blue striped suit was just a tad tight. If he was human, everything he was wearing would scream major douchebag alert. But since he was a vampire, it was okay. Because nobody would ever second guess him. They were all frightened little animals. Pathetic.
He strolled inside, not bothering to remove his sunglasses, and made his way up to his box. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to him now that he was inside, except the theater regulars to which he flashed particularly toothy smiles. How he’d love to kill every last one of them. And he probably could. Lock the doors and have a heyday. It wasn’t like he’d never considered it before. It was just that it would be far to messy. And he wasn’t really the cleaning type. Pity, it would have been so much fun.
The box had been reserved for him, and his females should have been waiting for him as of ten minutes ago. They were all humans, most of them social climbers who were more than happy to comply with being bitten without being compelled but he did so anyway, just so they wouldn’t remember. He wasn’t keen on having to bother covering his tracks after a feeding, so he just made sure they wouldn’t remember beforehand. When he reached the doors to his box, a man was standing there arguing with three well dressed girls, who looked very empty headed but vehement that they should get inside. Odd. As Stephen approached he waved them aside as if they were nothing more than annoying insects and addressed the elderly human blocking his way.
It seemed his box was double booked, accidently. Well this wouldn’t do. Without another word, he shoved past the man and threw open the door, less than pleased with the situation. He really hated anything that put a damper on his Opera evenings. Screw the women, he wanted to hear his bloody music. After having to deal with the little bitch living in the basement, he needed it. Otherwise he feared for his own sanity.
“You need to leave now.”
He said flatly, to whoever occupied his space. This wouldn’t do. No this wouldn’t do at all.
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TAGGING: [/color] open for business LOCATION:[/color] royal opera house, box 13 WORD COUNT:[/color] eight thirty five LOOKING LIKE:[/color] a douche lol & carNOTES:[/color] open for whatever, innocent fun or antagonizing him, it's all good. just make it interesting! [/font][/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ELIZABETH AMELIA CLARKE. on Jun 3, 2010 7:19:19 GMT
no matter how well she blended into modern society - and elizabeth blended well, whether it was fashion, technology, speaking style or music taste, elizabeth kept up with standards and made sure it wasn't entirely obvious she was two hundred years old. but no matter how much time passed and how well elizabeth seemed to fit in, she was born in the seventeen hundreds and there were some things you couldn't shake from a person. elizabeth had lost her religious faith when she was turned - what god would allow anyone to become a vampire? and although she had rosary beads with her wherever she went, it was the sentimental value she held on to, not the religious element. most traditions she had grown up with faded away over time, so much so she could barely remember them, as she barely remembered her human life. there was one thing that wouldn't leave her, and that was her love for classical music. much better than all the manufactured dribble spewing from radios these days. elizabeth had decided, as an immortal with a lot of time to spare, some of that time would be well spent at the opera. and so she had dressed up and got into her car - an audi s4 cabriolet, a birthday present she had bought herself a few years ago. speeding through the streets of london made her very happy, especially when there was little traffic.
she hit the brakes and screeched to a halt at covent garden, outside of the entrance to the royal opera house. she smiled as she dropped her keys into the hands of the valet, warning him to be careful with her baby. it wasn't a brand new car, although it looked as though elizabeth had just driven it out of the show room. she kept it in perfect condition - money was no object and her car received the best treatment. she wasn't exactly a car enthusiast, but she figured if she had a car and she had the money, why shouldn't she spend it? why shouldn't she make her car look nice? it was better to drive when everything was in good condition, and elizabeth wasn't happy if there was ever the tiniest scratch on it. she made her way into the opera house, wearing a short but flowing white dress and flat shoes. fashion was something she was genuinely interested in; she had watched it change over two centuries, and if truth be told, this current decade was probably her favourite for fashion, with a close second being the eighties. she smiled at the attendants as she walked past them, until she reached a private box she knew was usually inhabited by stephen and his latest crop of cheap girls.
she produced her ticket and showed the elderly man outside the box that she had indeed booked this box for tonight. he nodded her inside and she opened the door, greeted - not unexpectedly - by three young girls. they were fairly well dressed - showing a little too much skin to be at an opera, but still. not a hair between the three of them was out of place, and their make up was skilfully applied. they could have been the three perfect girls - until they opened their mouths to talk. "uh, you're like, totally not stephen?" the blonde girl said. elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "ten out of ten for observation, blondie. stephen isn't here tonight. off you go now." she waved her hand dismissively at the girls, and looking rather confused, they left the box. elizabeth shut the door behind them and settled into a seat, able to hear the girls arguing with the elderly man through the door, a smile drifting across her lips. as the door burst open and she heard stephen's voice, not impressed, fill the box. she stood up and faced him, smirking.
"come on now stephen, surely your mother taught you to share? i'm sure i'll be better company than those empty headed girls out there." she didn't know who he had been expecting to have taken his box, but she was sure it wasn't her. she had intentionally double booked his box in the hope he would turn up, as although she enjoyed opera, a little extra excitement was always welcome.
[/font][/size] stephen. graphic to lilly can't be tamed. outfit & car.[/font][/blockquote][/justify]
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Post by STEPHEN NICOLAS WRIGHT on Jun 4, 2010 4:10:38 GMT
this is our decision to live fast & die young. now lets have some fun. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You need to leave now. Of course it would never occur to Stephen to actually check who was inside his box, because he wanted it his way and he wanted it his way now. You see, this always complicated things. Logically, he could have waited to see who was inside. If it’s occupant was human, a simple compelling to convince them to leave would have done the trick and he could have had his box back. If they turned out to be a vampire, he’d just force them out. It was always a scene with Stephen. Always a show. It also didn’t help that he enjoyed confrontation. He liked making people angry, provoking them. Mainly because he liked to watch people react. Human interaction was quite fascinating. You’d think he’d learn to stop drawing attention to himself—his own messiness would be his undoing in the end—but he never learned. It was all too much fun. And there were never any consequences. He was always faster, always stronger, always smarter. He was the top of the food chain. And he knew it.
Before his eyes could even adjust to the dim lighting of the box, a very, very familiar voice cut through the open space, not at all lost in the din of the gathering audience below. Elizabeth. He didn’t even have to look, he knew. Of course he knew. The two of them were as close as two heartless beings could be. Which, of course, wasn’t all that close. But unlike with Elodie, whose primary desire was to frustrate Stephen then get in his pants, Elizabeth was actually good company. Stephen didn’t mind hanging around with her, and she was a fun partner on hunts and for any other sort of mischief. And he could trust her. Well, okay, he didn’t trust anyone, but he could trust her as much as he could trust Aleks. Or, he chose to trust her that much anyway. Maybe it was a mistake. But he really didn’t mind either way. It was nice to have someone he didn’t hate, at least. And he’d let Elizabeth down his pants anytime. That girl was smokin’.
His angry exterior instantly passed as she spoke, and instead he appeared quite friendly. It was these instantaneous change of moods that made Stephen, well, Stephen. His shoulders dropped, his expression switched quickly from annoyance, to confusion, to a relaxed understanding. His lips turned up a slowly spreading smile. Not a happy smile, exactly, more like a smile of someone who was pleased with a situation.
His eyes located the girl, gaze flicking over her attire. A nice choice. He slipped his sunglasses off his face smoothly, depositing them into the pocket in his jacket. He let the door swing closed behind him.
“Now, Elizabeth, you know I don’t like my dinner disrupted.” He was, of course, referring to his gaggle of girls now stranded outside the box. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.” He flashed her a legitimate grin. He didn’t admit that she was better company than the girls, mostly because they both knew she was. It didn’t need to be stated. And heaven forbid Stephen actually compliment anyone else. He sunk down into the seat next to her, promptly placing his feet on the half wall in front of them. They were high enough up that nobody seemed to care what the hell they did up here, nor would anyone notice his lack of decency. He was Stephen fucking Wright, he could put his feet up if he wanted.
“I went down to the basement play with your little brat the other day. She’s quite something, that one.” He smirked to himself, mostly, not going into the details. His gaze was fixed on the red curtains below, not making eye contact. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to him playing with her plaything. She knew that Stephen thought that she should have just killed Jamie. So he supposed the fact that he was showing any interest in her would seem odd. But if you knew Stephen well enough, and he was sure she did, you’d know that everything he did was for his own benefit. So in this case, like many others, he had ulterior motives.
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TAGGING: [/color] open for business LOCATION:[/color] royal opera house, box 13 WORD COUNT:[/color] 719 LOOKING LIKE:[/color] a douche lol & carNOTES:[/color] n/a [/font][/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ELIZABETH AMELIA CLARKE. on Jun 4, 2010 8:50:35 GMT
elizabeth smiled at stephen as she visibly watched his shoulders drop and the anger pass from his face. she had been right when she guessed he wouldn't be angry at her for taking his box, and right again when she guessed he wouldn't throw her out - as if he could, elizabeth would put up a fierce fight purely for something to do - and right a third time when she guessed he would join her. her good guessing had resulted in a box at the opera with the vampire she probably considered herself closest to. not that that was exactly saying much; elizabeth didn't consider herself particularly close to anyone - the mafia were more like allies, and although trusting each other was essential to stop from falling apart, elizabeth knew that she wasn't the only one wary about trusting certain members. stephen however, was someone she could trust - note the word could, not the word did. she trusted him as much as a wary vampire in the most vicious vampire organisation could afford to trust someone. however, trust didn't matter when it came to having a good time, and that was what elizabeth planned to do tonight. stephen was good company, not that elizabeth would ever tell him that, as his ego didn't need any helping along. the pair often hunted together, whether for food or fun, or general mischief. when you were two hundred years old, sometimes acting like a child was a little light relief.
and of course, stephen was good for other things. elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if all the girls in the mafia slept with him; she certainly did from time to time, and she knew elodie did. not that she minded; she was long past commitment, and stephen was pretty damn hot. again, his ego didn't need the boost so elizabeth never told him, but she knew she didn't need to; stephen was hot and he knew it. that suit? and sunglasses to the opera? there was no doubt, he knew he was hot. not to say elizabeth didn't think pretty highly of herself, of course. she smiled back at him, matching his expression for a moment. "oh stephen, you can hardly call those brainless blondes dinner. i know your standards are low, but they didn't even make it onto the scale." she smirked again as she sat back down in her seat, and stephen sank down beside her. stephen certainly had no taste when it came to the humans he fed from. elizabeth knew; she hunted with him. she often playfully taunted him about his choice of women and taste in blood - not including herself in the first category, of course. "they really didn't have a brain cell between them. if all humans were like that .." she trailed off, thinking. if all humans were like that, the vampires would have no problems. the humans would simply go with whatever the vampires wanted and they would outright be in charge, rather than in charge from behind the scenes, or behind a mask. at least one vampire somewhere had some sense and turned the queen; that was kept quiet, but elizabeth had her sources.
a small growl escaped from under elizabeth's breath when stephen mentioned the stupid girl in the basement. "she is most certainly not mine. she belongs to aleks, and that is the only reason she is currently a vampire and not a dead little girl." it was true - aleks had seen the girl around and asked elizabeth to collect him for her. elizabeth was a little angry that she was being asked to collect humans, but did so anyway, thinking it would be simple. that was until that stupid girl opened her mouth and to shut her up, elizabeth simply drained her. it wasn't exactly what aleks had asked for, but she had given him the girl - paler than white and empty of blood, elizabeth still with a trickle of red on her lips. aleks had possibly expected her alive, but there was nothing to be done about that. there was still a heart beat, still a tiny sign of life. somehow - elizabeth didn't care how - aleks gave her more blood and fixed her. she lasted about a week in the basement before she was turned into a vampire. "oh yes, she's something. i believe the word is 'bitch'. stupid girl." elizabeth finished dismissively - she wanted nothing further to do with the girl. she had done as aleks asked and had since refused to see the girl unless she absolutely had to; and she had only been forced to babysit her once, after she found her phone, which elizabeth promptly confiscated. "she won't learn. she's far too stubborn. she'll be in our basement forever."
[/font][/size] stephen. graphic to lilly can't be tamed. outfit & car.[/font][/blockquote][/justify]
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Post by STEPHEN NICOLAS WRIGHT on Jun 5, 2010 16:52:31 GMT
this is our decision to live fast & die young. now lets have some fun. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Oh Stephen, you can hardly call those brainless blondes dinner. I know your standards are low, but they didn't even make it onto the scale.” As much as Stephen would have liked to argue the statement that Elizabeth liked to echo from time to time, he couldn’t. He probably could find food that was more intriguing. Perhaps a human who was particularly good at running away. Make a hunt of it. It would be exciting and occupy his enormous amount of free time. Or perhaps he could choose smart, brooding female humans witch which he could debate politics. But really, what was the point? Stephen was a lazy fuck who was used to having everything done for him or handed to him on a silver platter. It was a wonder he even got to be co-leader of the mafia. He supposed it hinged on the fact that he was good at being in charge—micromanaging and politics. And he ruthless and could be pretty scary when he wanted to be. But back to the blonde bimbos. You see, Stephen didn’t like to have to work for his dinner unless he was really craving a hunt, and tonight he wasn’t. He didn’t want to even bother. Thus the social climbing bitches he’d gathered up for a snack. Really, if he’d wanted to have fun, he could have called upon his numerous, well, he didn’t want to call them friends, per say. Alliances. Whatever they were. Companions. That was more appropriate. Once upon a time Stephen had friends, real friends. And where did that get him? Absolutely nowhere. Now his ex-bff was the leader of their biggest threat. That was why you couldn’t have friends. In the end, you couldn’t trust them either.
“Now Elizabeth,” He started, sounding overly sarcastic, “It’s not my fault they’re all just dying to be bitten. And I’m here to listen to an Opera, not hunt down my dinner. It’s like room service.” The funny thing was, one time Stephen had stayed in a hotel and ordered room service. The poor server that brought up his food didn’t realize he’d be the snack, not what was inside the dish. It was wonderfully ironic. Stephen had to remember to try that again sometime. He loved irony. Hah.
She spoke again, commenting again on their lack of brains. Just the way he liked them. Most Women that actually possessed brains tended to be trouble. Elizabeth may have been an exception, but Elodie? She was the case and point. That girl needed to be locked up somewhere. Maybe she could switch places with Jamie in the basement. Though the other girl was just as bad. Women without brains were easy to ignore. As Elizabeth made her comment about humans being brainless he snorted softly. If only. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about . . . well, anything really. But it wasn’t like he’d never considered this before. It was a deceptively wonderful thing. Sure, they’d rule—no more watching their backs, no more secrets. They could do what they want, when they wanted it. But really? Even someone as lazy as Stephen knew it would be a bit dull if humans were brainless. There would be no more hunting. No more terrorizing. And they’d still meet opposition from the peacekeepers. From Trace. That was a chapter of Stephen’s life he didn’t particularly enjoy bringing up. And he’d managed to keep it secret this long. And it no longer mattered. The ex-friends were clearly allied on opposing sides. And Stephen would fight to the death for the mafia. He just shrugged as Beth’s voice faded out.
“Then everything would be just as complicated as ever.” It was nonchalant, unfeeling. Because nothing was easy. Especially not these days, when their very existence made them outcasts. Sometimes he wondered if this had been different, then would they still be the same? Or would they just be nameless faces in society who happened to be dead. Everything was so circumstantial.
His smile reappeared as she spoke of Jamie with such obvious distaste. He’d love to join in the hate club, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Especially after the bit about her never learning. Because he was trying to get her to do just that. Of course, he wasn’t advertising this, but he’d thought it a smart thing to do. After all, what if they needed the basement for a new captive? Jamie was just taking up space. He shook his head, adjusting his weight in the red plush chair he was sitting in. And, as he’d mentioned to Jamie, nobody appreciated her dirtying their couches when she snuck upstairs. He quickly checked himself, however, as showing any warmth towards the girl, even through his annoyance with her, wasn’t appropriate. Not here. Still, he chuckled lightly as Elizabeth growled. He almost playfully asked if she thought Aleks would mind him playing with Jamie, but he figured Elizabeth would tell him to ask Aleks himself. Which he wasn’t too keen on doing. Always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“She’s certainly ungrateful for being allowed to live.” He paused, realizing the statement was incorrect. “Well, she’s dead, I mean as a vampire, of course. She could have died. She should have died.” He shrugged again. It was true. He previously had firmly believed, like Elizabeth, that Jamie would have been better off a corpse than stuffed in their basement taking up space. “Don’t underestimate the child, though. Aleks wanted her for a reason, I suppose. I just wish I knew why.” Not that he’d waste any time actually pondering this. Because he had his own business with the girl now. And that was far more interesting than wondering over elusive ‘whys’.
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TAGGING: [/color] open for business LOCATION:[/color] royal opera house, box 13 WORD COUNT:[/color] 949 LOOKING LIKE:[/color] a douche lol & carNOTES:[/color] :] [/font][/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ELIZABETH AMELIA CLARKE. on Jun 6, 2010 7:56:13 GMT
elizabeth certainly wasn't picky when it came to food; she ate when she was hungry, and didn't mind where it came from as long as she got what she needed. as a habit she preferred to feed from males, but she wouldn't object to a female if she tasted decent. age did not entirely matter - she tended to leave the elderly, as she had found she didn't prefer their taste, but adults and teenagers were fine. young children were a little iffy - even as a hungry vampire elizabeth understood that there had to be a line somewhere, and if you were going to drink human blood, even a mafia member could sense the fine line surrounding children. she had drank from a few - possibly some of the best blood she had ever tasted - but despite her status as a mafia member she held onto at least this moral. children were not for drinking unless desperate, for vampires this was a rule. or, more of a guideline. elizabeth allowed herself a treat from time to time. but she at least attempted to find someone stimulating, someone who presented a challenge. she had a lot of free time; a hunt simply passed some of this time and made the reward even more tasty in the end. but then again, she reasoned with herself, stephen was lazy. they hunted together, of course, but stephen did always like his food to be handed to him wherever possible.
"room service? and here was me thinking you had class, stephen! a little hunt passes the time, and works up an appetite. and a human who tries to put up a fight is highly amusing." elizabeth did enjoy when humans put up a fight. it was as if they actually thought they stood a chance, as if the act of desperation wouldn't be their final moments, it would be the moment they defeated a vampire. no. that wasn't how elizabeth worked. she allowed a human to put up a fight for her own amusement, before simply draining it and leaving it to die. humans that fought back were always the most amusing. the sadist in elizabeth reared it's ugly head and she found pleasure in tearing apart the people who fought back most. elizabeth may look like an innocent girl, but underneath it she was a true mafia member, and her personality suited that fine. sometimes, she came across humans with brains, with personalities, with looks .. humans that, if she were human too, she would consider getting to know. consider befriending. if she were human too, if she weren't dead and cold and unforgiving. these were the humans she killed immediately. she didn't want ideas to enter her head, just blood to enter her mouth.
"then everything would be just as complicated as ever." elizabeth nodded her head slightly in agreement. no matter whether humans had brains, no brains, tentacles or twenty eyes, everything would still be complicated. vampires would still be feared - from elizabeth's point of view, vampires were right to be feared. they should be something that was feared. humans should be afraid. but it didn't matter whether they had no brains, two brains or two hundred brains; vampires would always be feared, always be misunderstood - or in the case of the mafia, understood all to well? humans thought vampires were bloodthirsty and the mafia certainly was. "when is anything not complicated? life wouldn't be life if everything were simple." life would certainly be boring if everything was simple. humans would accept vampires, there would be no need for the mafia, and elizabeth would be one of a handful of outcasts, for although she would be able to - and indeed, had - integrated into human society well enough to be undetected by most, she would be unable to stop eating human blood.
elizabeth rolled her eyes. jaimeson was certainly not her favourite topic of conversation, and definitely not her favourite person. jaimeson didn't even make the list. she'd be on the list of people elizabeth hated most though - most likely at the top in six foot high letters. she just managed to get under her skin - if elizabeth had hackles to raise, they would be standing at full attention every time she was near jaimeson. and elizabeth wasn't exactly a rotten judge of character. she was careful; she observed and judged and calculated and worked out what she needed to know about a person. and she knew all she needed to know about jaimeson – she was a spiteful bitch who would rather be dead than a vampire. or so she said. elizabeth knew she was glad to be alive, in the loosest sense of the word; she had confiscated her mobile phone and read through the texts on it; and to her delight, she found out that jaimeson had a boyfriend. she hadn’t told jaimeson that she knew about alex, but she had managed to find the boy and offer him 'advice' which had hopefully left him feeling worse about jaimeson’s disappearance. "she should be dead. she’s lucky she isn’t." elizabeth scowled. "aleks always wants new toys. i just happened to get to this one first, so he changed her. i don’t want to get into the things that go on in that boys mind, it's not advisable." aleks did what he wanted, got what he wanted. there wasn’t much of a question around it, except the occasional why. jaimeson was definitely a why. ”next time you visit her, give her an extra slap from me.” if stephen wanted to interact with her, then let him.
[/font][/size] stephen. graphic to lilly can't be tamed. outfit & car.[/font][/blockquote][/justify]
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Post by STEPHEN NICOLAS WRIGHT on Jun 30, 2010 8:11:56 GMT
this is our decision to live fast & die young. now lets have some fun. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Stephen’s soft laugh echoed in the dark box as Elizabeth chastised him about having class. If there was anything Stephen had, it was class. And he played it up to the extreme. He was the world’s best show off, that was for sure. Stephen’s apartment could have been photographed in some expensive magazine, most of the items within imports or priceless relics from all over the world collected on his many travels. He had impressive paintings, high vaulted ceilings and dark oak furniture. His library was massive in size and stocked with first edition copies of historical works he prized. The entire place was a wonder and always kept spotless. (Except perhaps his bedroom, but nobody ever was allowed in there anyways). His car collection was incredibly diverse and well-kept. His clothing choices were straight out of GQ. He preferred suits and wool peacoats to hoodies and sneakers. He was impeccable in manner and taste. In fact, the only time Stephen wasn’t classy was when he was being extra vampire-y.
On the hunt he was fierce, merciless. For a vampire that kept his emotions very open (which was probably unusual, but he’d never found it hindered him in any way), on the hunt, Stephen was scarily blank. Uncharacteristically so. He felt nothing. He was a hunting machine. He became a predatory animal and nothing more. Like a cat, he occasionally toyed with his victims, but for the most part, he just killed without hesitation. What was the point in delaying that? He didn’t rejoice in pain to the extent of Aleks and some of the others. It was fun, sure, but not necessary. And when hunting, he gave up his capacity for amusement in favor of efficiency. The only other time Stephen lacked class was when he was using his power. He often dwelled in it, perhaps too much. He’d tortured humans beyond recovery many times simply for the sake of his own curiosity. Hell, he’d tortured vampires the very same way. Torturing vampires was far more interesting. They were creatures who believed themselves to be invincible, so to have them face their deepest fears was quite riveting. Stephen could be downright frightening when he wanted to be. He made sure everyone knew when the party was over.
Still, despite his enjoyment in hunting, Elizabeth’s comment about it passing time was true. Except, as of recent, Stephen didn’t really have that much free time to pass. With the increasing laws concerning vampires, Stephen and most of the mafia had been in work overdrive, tracking, killing, and working out how to live in secret—and perhaps one day out in the open. One could only hope. In fact, he recently had heard rumors about things that would allow them to live in the light of day. It was something that had interested him greatly and he was currently researching it in detail. He was far more interested in that than hunting.
“You are mistaken, Elizabeth, for we both know my levels of class are some of the most sought after in the world.” He grinned and winked. “Or at least the mafia. I have better things to do than chase silly humans around.” His tones were light, but not teasing, for they were the truth. He shrugged in response to her next point, about life.
Elizabeth had a point about life not being fair, no matter how cliché she sounded. Not that he ever had expected it to be. You couldn’t expect fairness, not when your very existence wasn’t fair. Well, not fair to the undeserving mortal brats. Being a vampire was like being incredibly ‘special’ and gifted and being a nobody at the exact same time. It was strange, existing in the in between. They were superior in every way, and yet they fought every day to live. They were not invincible. For every human they killed, another vampire was put at risk. Vampires were dying too. The vampires, despite what they liked to think, did not necessarily have the advantage in everything. They were outnumbered, in the end. And the recent string of vampire deaths only made that statement more true. Stephen knew he personally had nothing to worry about, nor did the rest of the mafia. Which, he supposed, in his world, made everything very fair. For him. And that’s all that really mattered in the end.
As far as Jamie, went, Elizabeth’s disgust with her was Stephen’s amusement. In fact, he was rather enjoying this. Not quite as much as he loved playing with Jamie herself (fucking that girl emotionally was almost as good as actually fucking her), of course, but nearly. Perhaps his own fascination with her was rooted deeply in the fact that Jamie and him were very much alike. Of course he’d never admit this aloud or otherwise, but it was true. And the more time they spent together, the more he realized that. He hated her and wanted her and was utterly fascinated by her all at the same time. She was like a car wreck, you don’t want to look but you can’t help it. He cocked his head to the side slightly as she spoke about the girl, Elizabeth not masking her distaste. Which only made it all the better. He, however, was not really afraid of what went on in Aleks’s mind. Twisted, dark, whatever. It hadn’t really ever phased him. But he was speaking from a different standpoint, of course. He’d helped the mafia exist, he trusted Aleks, in a way, even if he didn’t really think he could trust anyone. Aleks and he had a bond, a companionship, a partnership. It wasn’t warm, but Stephen was fiercely loyal to him. They were privy to things the rest of the mafia wasn’t. Well, most of them anyway. He couldn’t help but grin as Elizabeth mentioned the slap. “Oh, I don’t think that’s advisable, you know. She might start to think you like her or something.” He didn’t mask his enjoyment in the idea. It would just get Jamieson all riled up and then he’d have to fuck her because he wouldn’t be able to resist. It would be such a hassle, really. “And just think, she might start getting ideas! Like that she could talk to you. All on her own! I’m sure you’d love that, hmm?”
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TAGGING: [/color] elizabeth LOCATION:[/color] royal opera house, box 13 WORD COUNT:[/color] 1058 LOOKING LIKE:[/color] a douche lol & carNOTES:[/color] sorry this took like a MILLION years :[[[[[ [/font][/size][/blockquote]
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