|
|
Post by Gayleish** on Aug 26, 2012 1:09:46 GMT -5
J A S O N MR. LEFEVRE
Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
The engine runs on glue and tar
Come on along, not goin' very far
To the East to meet the Czar.
* _ * _ * _ *
Sleeping was probably one of the things that made Jason the happiest. Not because of the rest he got from it, most the times his dreams kept from getting any of that stuff; but because it was a way to pass the mornings. The fanged-frenchman hated being couped up in his house, even if his house was a giant mansion. It was like a cage when the sun was out. While he was a Childe, it meant that he could go out into the sunlight when he absolutely needed to; but it hurt him. Bad. Jason didn't like being weakened, so he refused to go out until the sun was setting. Then it wasn't so bad.
Hitting the beeping alarm clark with scary speed; it smashed under his hand. That woke him up. It was the fourth alarm clock that met an untimely demise this month. While Jason could afford it; it wasn't something he liked to buy. Each one seemed to be more annoying than the last. Throwing away the covers, Jason sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, rubbing his face to get feeling back in it. He could feel scruffy fur growing in and new it was time to shave anyways.
Moving gracefully from his bed to the bathroom, Jason began to go through his daily wake up routines. Shower, shave, get dressed, the usual. Then it was off to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Jason had secret shipments of blood coming in from an outside hospital. It wasn't breaking the truce if anyone caught on, but to save himself from that argument he made sure to keep it under wraps. So whenever it happened he had it say it was tiger's blood for his resturaunt. Gotta keep it fancy, no?
It wasn't long before Jason was dressed in a snappy suit and on his way out for a night on the town. The leader of the vampire uprising, Lié par l'honneur, decided that a drink was in order. It was a quiet little place he had in mind. Though it was ran by werewolf, Jason knew that he had to keep up the appearance of your friendly, every day business tycoon. Sadly, that meant mixing with the dog-breaths and the meals alike.
Parking his car, which was a stylish '61 Bugatti Royale Coupe; Jason entered the bar. It wasn't very busy, but it was possible that it would pick up later on into the night. Sitting down at a stool in front of the actual bar; Jason pulled on one of his most charming smirks. "I'll have a vodka, straight and on the rocks please." Jason spent a large amount of time in France, almost more so than here; so it was an apparent accent. Though Jason also knew America better than most Americans; so it wasn't unable to understand.
* _ * _ * _ *
Word Count: 478.
Comments: (:
Outfit: Clickie!
His car
Credits: Lyrics to the doors, banner by moi.
|
|
|
|
Post by cyrakellenhonora on Aug 27, 2012 1:13:45 GMT -5
All that hate is gonna burn you up,
It keeps me warm at night,
Warmer than anyone,
I think how many drinks I've had,
No more in either hand,
I'm slurring on purpose,
And it's certainly worth it.
Was it that time already? Seriously? With a groan Cyra sat up slowly. So what if she lived the nocturnal lifestyle? So did half the other non-vampiric weasels in Chicago. It was simply a way of life in the big city, and most of the time she could pass for normal. Not that she actually wanted to. There seemed to be a certain seductive factor to her whenever men knew she wasn't.. alive. So many questions, and they were always the same. Of course Cyra never felt the need to actually answer those questions. Those silly humans were nothing but trash she left crumpled in her wake.
In fifteen minutes Cyra was in and out of the shower, the best way to awaken her. The high rise loft was void of windows in exception for one, heavily hidden by a black out curtain until the curvaceous blond shoved the velveteen fabric aside, the luxurious living room gazing out over diamond encrusted sky scrapers and exhilarating silhouettes of artificially lit architecture. Still in her towel, her frozen eyes scanned the world buzzing with life below, a certain excitement brewing within their enticing depths. The world was her playground, and Cyra knew exactly how to get down and dirty. In another fifteen minutes, the long haired vixen had slipped into a showy black and white dress that did things to her figure no man could describe accurately. In fact, most of them just stood speechless.
Soon after she was gone, vanishing into the crowd and fitting in just perfectly, teeth nipping her bottom lip as her eyes narrow on the bar a two minute's walk from her studio. With a grin, she lifts her hand, fingers splaying through her golden locks, ruffling the already lush waves to give them only more body, the stares she receives both satisfying and somewhat intoxicating, exciting her only more for the night just around the bend.
When her fingers grip the door handle, she throws a wink to the bouncy, a smile flitting to her glistening lips, an eyebrow quirking in a seductive way. "Busy night, gorgeous?" Asks with a grin, her voice practically a purr, and with that she presses open the door, sliding her slender frame through with ease. Her strides to the bar are deliberate, purse slinging off her shoulder and onto the cool granite, fingers trailing over the smooth stone. "Cranberry and Jameson. Heavy on the Jameson, no ice, please." Smiles a sharp smile, eyes drifting to her right, slipping over the form so close to her, her sharp grin melting into a poisonous smirk.
Tilts her head, eyes looking the man over with a curious gaze. He was much too.. perfect to be human. And he didn't smell like a dog. Was he changed? Or perhaps another childe? Well, wouldn't that be something. After a second more of studying, she finally speaks, lyrics dripping with a seductive venom. "Evening, handsome." Leaves it short, a smirk flickering on her lips, blond hair falling like a curtain over her shoulder as one hand falls to rest on her hip, pressing into the fabric hugging her curves, gaze steady, confident, and a little too sure of herself. For once, maybe Cyra had a few questions to ask. But there was no reason she couldn't have a little fun doing it.
Everything I do is bittersweet,
You could tell me secrets that I'll probably repeat,
I'm not trying to hurt you, I just love to speak,
It feel's like we're pulling teeth,
So bittersweet.
Word Count | 556
Outfit | Click
OOC | Will get better when I've slept D8
|
|
|
|
Post by jason on Aug 27, 2012 1:52:24 GMT -5
J A S O N MR. LEFEVRE
Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
The engine runs on glue and tar
Come on along, not goin' very far
To the East to meet the Czar.
* _ * _ * _ *
Jason got his order and he nodded his thanks. He also put the money on the counter so the bartender didn't think he was trying to jip him. He had way too much money to steal things. The vampire could smell the fact that the bartender was a werewolf, but he didn't let it effect his outward appearance at all. His eyes also didn't show a drop of emotion about them. Jason was greatful that it was one of those long shotglasses. He didn't feel like doing shots at the moment, so it was going to be a slow sipping experience. Someone entered the door but Jason's mind was on the television which was showing some football game. Not that he was one of those macho-men who dwelved in the world of football; but he enjoyed a game or two.
At the moment it was the Broncos verses the Carolina panthers. It was going to be an interesting show indeed. ”Evening, handsome.”
[/i] The words fluttered into his mind and for a second it didn't register that they were shot in his direction. Undoubtedly a mortal female drawn to his vampirism. Humans were finicky beasts. So fragile yet so drawn to power. Turning his eyes from the game to the voice, Jason was met by a mild surprise that, from appearances at least; it was another vampire. The sun was still too high for it to be a bitten one. They waited until absolute darkness. So that meant it was another childe. She was pleasing to look at, though Jason never gave much though to relationships or sex. Most thought it was odd, he was male after all; but Jason had more important matters to attend to. “Hello mademoiselle.” It was a habit to refer to people as the french term. “Lovely evening tonight, is it not?” Jason wondered if he was supposed to be enamored by her. “Childe, right?” Jason hoped that she didn't read too much into his words. It could of easily came off as him over analyzing her, which maybe he was; but that was just how Jason did things. The vampire leader refused to be caught off guard by people, and though that was a goal that wasn't easily obtained; he at least liked to get in the ball park of things. The man let a rugged smirk slide over his lips. “Shall I buy you a drink?” Again, it wasn't meant to be flirting though it may come off that way. It was just how gentlemen did it in France. * _ * _ * _ *Word Count: 427.Comments: Sorry it's so short. It'll get better hahaOutfit: Clickie!His carCredits: Lyrics to the doors, banner by moi.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/color] |
|
