The theme tonight was an unusual one for the White Mice, but it was a common one throughout most bars: dark lighting, an almost gothic look to the place, dull music - wait. That wasn't the entire story...the music was off. In fact, it was down right mellow, if in a modern technofunk kind of way. It was exactly the kind of music Colleen typically associated with midnight clubs and 2am feedings. In short, she liked it.

The slow rhythm of a deep bass mixed with the low-pitch tune of some far-off song no one had ever heard of gave the whole place a 'living dead' feeling. Indeed, it was perfect for blending in and falling into the mix - just like Colleen was doing now. Her gyrating hips and bouncing heels were a clear sign that she was lost in the moment. Her eyes were closed and her hands were above her head like she was in cuffs as she turned around and around and moved through the dancing crowd like a fish in a school.

She was one of many women noticed that night in the club, but there was one difference that few people save for her own kind would have ever recognized: Colleen was anything but mortal. She was a vampire.

(Sorry it took me so long to post.)

It was only Claude's second week in town, first week on the job, and already he was loving Demaitre. The night life was amazing. He now understood why people went out to dance clubs and bars on the weekend. He had never been to any himself and had never understood the attraction to it, being neither a good dancer, nor much of a drinker.

Nevertheless, he stood behind the bar, pouring two shots of God knew what, and taking the money and credit cards of those that he served. It was simple enough. He had a little mixer cheat sheet to look up the drink recipes on and, though he was still learning, he got quite a few compliments on his speedy, tasty delivery of booze and liquor. Even if the remarks came from half-baked drunkards, it was still nice to hear that he was doing something right.

The tips were a perk, too. He had been able to rent out motel rooms again for the time being, and to buy a few cheap work outfits. He stood now, swaying and bobbing his head lightly to the bass, in a pair of black slacks and a green button down shirt. One of the other bartenders playfully unbuttoned a few of the top buttons for him and complimented him with a wink on the light stubble he had growing on his chin, calling him 'hot-stuff' and other flattering albeit embarrassing nicknames. The truth was, he couldn't afford to buy shaving cream at the moment.

He couldn't complain. Well, that was a lie. He had a lot to complain about, but he wouldn't complain... After all, this was the life he had chosen for himself, and he told himself as each day passed that there was no turning back.

He stuck a few tips in his pocket and walked down the bar. "What can I get you?" he asked nobody in particular, tending to the first request. He was getting tired, but he only had about another half hour until his shift was up.

((No problem. :) ))

"The red stuff," came the reply.

Colleen had finished her dance, though the music was on a loop and would probably be playing all night, and now wanted a drink. Of course, for a vampire, that meant more than just the typical whiskey or vodka. Blood was the drink of choice for vampires, after all, and to get such here - well, she could have manipulated any of the mortals here into bed, but she didn't feel like it tonight.

Her mental abilities had aided her in controlling the minds of mortals for almost six decades, growing stronger with each passing year - though they were still nowhere near the level of an Amman and probably never would be - and she had developed a peripheral mind in much the same way that most mortals developed peripheral vision. She sensed that this man was relatively new, so she pointed to the minifridge nearby. It wasn't really a minifridge, of course, but something entirely different - a safe. It was merely made to look like a minfridge and most people couldn't tell the difference. It actually had no power running to it.

Most of the bartenders here knew enough not to ask questions because of the probably illegality of whatever was in the bottles in there, though they still charged an arm and a leg. Colleen could have easily gotten past that little problem most people called money, but having an almost unlimited supply had its advantages and she was just here to relax tonight - not get a date or play with her food. She handed over hundred dollar bill for the stuff - the typical price, which bought both the blood and the silence of the bartenders - carefully folded so as to seem as though it were merely a ten. A girl throwing around hundred dollar bills in a nightclub that charged only four bucks for a shot of whiskey was something the local cops tended to notice - not to mention civilians. Of course, she was no girl - she was a fully-fledged woman and had been for around sixty years - but that was besides the point.

Claude nodded, and gave his usual answer. "Comin' right up." He turned away and looked down at his little cheat sheet for the drink. It wasn't listed. He glanced up at her again, about to ask her again what it was she wanted, but he saw her point to the little mini-fridge in the corner. "Oh," he said quietly. That. Everybody called it something different.

He had seen other tenders serving out of it a couple of times and had asked what was inside, but he was never given an answer. He hadn't been given a key to it either... At least not by management. Alice had slipped one to him earlier that night, growing tired of him asking for it.

He knelt down and unlocked it, opening the door a small ways and reaching in. He took out a bottle with black tinted glass, with no label and no remarkable features. He liked serving this stuff. It was the most rewarding tip-wise, even if it was illegal, as he suspected. He always felt like somebody was watching him when he served these. It always got his heart pumping a little faster, as if he were handing off a drug deal... For all he knew, he was.

He stood and walked back to the counter. He took the bill from her, wrapping his entire hand around it and slipping it into his pocket. He held the bottle below the counter and twisted the cap off and handed it to her. "Enjoy." He said with a wink. He'd be enjoying his tip later.

"Thank you," she said as she took the bottle, looking the man over.

He wasn't too bad-looking, though his bartender's outfit didn't show much. It wasn't baggy or anything; it just didn't reveal if he was anything more than average size and height. For all Colleen knew he might be scar-riddled and hideously deformed. But that was where her telepathy came in, of course. From what she could discern from the cavernous recesses of the mortal's mind, he was actually quite handsome. He had a bit of muscle, though he wouldn't have stood out much in a crowd. But he was definitely distinguished despite the corrective lenses he sometimes wore. All in all, he was most definitely pleasing on the eye, even if he wasn't marcus.

Now, Marcus - that was a man she could definitely settle for. In all her eighty years, sixty of them as a vampire, she had never met a man more able to accomodate a woman than him. That finely muscled torso, that beautiful wavy brown hair, those strong shoulders, those dashing eyes...well, okay - so she was only imagining what his shoulders must look like. But that man...if vampires could sweat, she would have been drenched by now just thinking of that sexy devil as she sat there drinking her blood and surveying the crowd of half-drunken idiots, dancers, and barmaids throughout the club. God, she wanted him - bad. She'd met him only a handful of times - perhaps a dozen, if that - over the last sixty years, the first meeting not even taking place until she was around fifty, and always briefly. But each time she saw that gorgeous idol, she could feel herself practically begging him to jump her right then and there - if only he'd quit being a man and actually notice.

She smiled at the thought at first, but as the reality of it hit, her smile faded and she grew sullen. She took a long, slow gulp of her blood and then sighed. She would never have a man like that - certainly not Marcus. A man that old - for she had heard somewhere that he was around two thousand - would never be interested in someone with less than a century of undeath under their metaphorical belt.

Claude tended to a few other customers and their drinks before he came back to where he had been before. Nobody down here was begging for a drink, nor where they at the other end. He saw the young woman he had just served, sipping her drink, her cheeks brightened with a hint of pink. He gave her a gentle smile and leaned toward her from across the counter. "So what's in that stuff? I'm new here and nobody will tell me," he whispered, a playful grin on his face.

(Sorry it's so short... I couldn't think of anything.)

As her attention was reluctantly drawn back to the bartender, Colleen found herself highly amused inside. She smiled a slow, seductive smile and let her mind wander into his. She plagued his thoughts with certain - images. Very lewd images. Images that involved the two of them. Her smile broadened as her vampiric powers took their toll on the mortal.

"Trade secret," was all she said, hiding a slowly broadening grin behind a drink of the stuff. "What's the matter? You look a little odd," she said with a smile as the images continued to pound the mortal's consciousness. She loved teasing them like this; it was so fun to play with her food.

Claude gasped softly as the most vivid and erotic of images flooded his mind. He leaned close against the counter in order to both hide his sudden physical reaction and to lean closer to her. This was highly unusual, especially for him. He never had fantasies so intense that he couldn't control or subdue them, especially whilst in such a public environment, nor that came on so quickly without him willing them to form in his thoughts.

"I--" he panted, unable to help himself as his eyes cascaded down her body. He brushed a hand against his mouth, covering whatever garbled words he might have managed and wiping away the perspiration that formed on his upper lip.

Alice stepped up next to him and touched his arm, recoiling slightly as he flinched against her touch. "You ahright?" she asked him, making a side glance at Colleen. She recognized her. Knew her as one of her own people. Teasin' the boy, are we? she asked the vampire across the counter. Her lips twitched into a slight smile, though it savored of disapproval. She didn't like other immortals messing with her bartenders.

"Huh? Y-yeah I'm fine. Not feeling very well."

"Why doncha take a break, eh? Go to the loo and put some cool water on your face."

"Uh, yeah. Okay." Claude stood up straight and walked slowly away, Alice sliding back into his place, leaning against the counter.

"Boy's new in town," she told Colleen once he was out of range to hear her. "Doesn't know about us yet." Her lips pursed together, but a suggestive twinkle lit her eyes. "Just don't kill him, alright?" She held her hand out to her, offering to hold her drink behind the bar if she chose to follow the young mortal to the bathroom. Somebody had to teach him eventually.

In the men's room, Claude splashed water on his face and rubbed it cross the back of his neck. He didn't know what had gotten into him. He glanced around the room and, satisfied that it was empty, went about adjusting his pants so that he was more comfortable now that the images had left him. He was almost afraid to go back outside .

(There we go. Tired to set something up for us. A bit of a plot line to go with-- at least for this thread. If you choose not to have Colleen follow him, I'll have him come back out and ask for the rest of the night off or something. Up to you.)

Colleen laughed lightly. That 'man' was hardly a boy, though he was young compared to Colleen. Had Colleen been mortal, she'd probably be tiny, wrinkled, frail, and living in a home where the food was almost as bad as the service and everyone smiled at you like you were crazy - which you probably were. Being eighty had its disadvantages as a mortal, but as a vampire...well, that was another matter entirely.

"No, I'm fine. Just having a bit of fun."

Colleen winked and grinned.

"So, this place yours or you just work here?"

Her grin reluctantly faded into a smile as she continued to enjoy her blood.

"I work here," Alice answered. "Shift manager." She glanced toward the men's room and prepared another drink for a customer. "Ain't that stuff shit when it's cold?" she asked Colleen. Alice refused to drink it herself. She liked her blood warm, boiling even, depending on her mood.

She held up a hand, a gesture to have Colleen wait a moment before answering, and stepped down the bar. She muttered something to one of the male bar tenders and he walked off to find Claude. Then she took a few more drink orders and came back to stand before Colleen. "I've seen you here before. You ain't the one who hunts in the alleyway, are ya?" She perked a brow and went about pouring a pitcher of beer.

(Maybe I ought to make a character out of her.)

John popped into the mens room to see Claude sitting up on the counter, leaning back against the grimy mirror. "Hey, get down from there."

Claude's head rolled as he turned to look at him. He looked drunk, and when he got down from the counter he staggered a bit. "Whoa, you okay, pal?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just... Got a massive migraine." The music wasn't helping at all.

"You want me to go get Ally?"

"No.." He turned back to the sinks and turned on the cold water, splashing it on his face and neck, and then drying it with his sleeve. "No, just tell her I'll be out in a little bit."

John nodded and, stepping briefly back to the bar, brought Claude a drink. "Have this. It'll make you feel better."

Claude took it and downed it, making a face. "Jesus, what is that!"

"Vodka." John grinned. He remembered when Claude said he didn't drink hard liquor. "Take a seat on the shitter and wait for it to kick in. Get rid of that headache in a jiff." Then he left him in there, muttering to Alice that he was fine, just taking a piss, and that he'd be out soon. She nodded and gave him a few orders to work on until Claude came back out.

At the comment about it being cold, she nodded. But it was what she had for now. She didn't feel like hunting tonight - an oddity. Perhaps sixty years of being what she was had finally softened her. It had certainly hardened her pretty quickly. But of late she felt like slowing down again. She didn't think it was age, necessarily - she was a vampire, after all; she didn't age - she was just bored. Perhaps she was finally 'growing up'.

The other went off to serve some liquor, leaving Colleen to her thoughts, but she was back after a few moments. Then she was asking about hunting. Colleen shook her head. She'd definitely hunted in a few alleys in her time, but she usually picked up men from the bar and led them back to her place for a fuck and a feeding. She didn't have to kill them, but it was fun. Odd for her to enjoy it...but there it was. She shrugged mentally at the thought.

"No, I'm not. I don't use the alleyway here," she said, now completely serious but somehow seeming mellow. Maybe she was. She could never tell these days; her moods seemed to be swift and varied the last few months. Another symptom of her recent boredom, she was sure.

"So...since I like to get to know others like me...name's Colleen. How 'bout yourself?"

"Good," Alice said plainly. "Some asshole's been killin' outside. Looks bad on us." She cleaned out a few glasses, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was almost two. Fantastic. She wanted to get out of her. She was hungry.

"Last call," Alice shouted over the blare of the music, and a few other bartenders, as well as the DJ, took the cue and relayed the message.

"I'm Alice." And that was all she said.

(I got nothin'. Lol)

((Loser. :P JK XD))

"Then I'd better finish this quickly," she said with a smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Alice. You in a coven?"

Her question had two purposes, of course: the first was to determine whether or not she was within range of a kindred spirit, a fellow Nephim willing to chat on occasion when place got slow - as if it ever did. Most nights, there seemed to be more people than their was sense in the club. Then again, isn't that how a club was supposed to be? It made for easy kills, anyway, starting with very pliable mortal minds. The other reason was more than knowing those around her. She was learning of possible friends - and enemies. In a town where five super-powerful covens gathered simultaneously, it was better to know where the traps lie than to stumble into them blindly. She didn't particularly expect everyone to be her enemy, of course; she just liked to be prepared should there be an enemy around the corner. Perhaps she really was growing up - or perhaps sixty years had hardened her more than she'd thought it had.

Alice smirked as she prepared drinks for the crowd that hovered around the bar. Last call always made drink orders come faster.

"I do not choose, nor am I allowed for that matter, to discuss my political views on the job." Covens weren't necessarily politics... Not entirely anyway, but for the sake of mortal ears, they might as well be. And as with any job... "I don't wish to portray the views of this establishment based upon my own." It was a practiced answer, sounding as if it had been adapted out of a book. The grin that accompanied it was definitely worth while.

"Oy, Claude! Get over here, we've got last call!" She called out as she saw Claude emerge from the restroom. He hurried around the bar and hopped right in, being wary to stay away from Colleen.

"I never said anything about the establishment," she said coolly, though she recognized the other woman was right.

Against her will, she probably would have started to think of the tavern as an extension of whatever coven the owner or its employees were of. That wasn't entirely accurate, of course, especially since certain wines had been brought in secretly by Colleen and so had a great deal of the blood she'd managed to 'acquire'. Fresh corpses were the best source of the blood brought in, but that blood was really for vampires who drink any kind of blood without a problem - people like Colleen, for example.

She finished up her blood and pushed the bottle away, asking (and paying for) two double shots of vodka mixed with 7-Up on the rocks. With last call out there, she might as well get two. More to enjoy that way.

Alice called out the order and Claude responded, expertly pouring and sliding two shots down the bar. He wasn't very good at it yet and had lost a number of tips for performing and failing numerous bar tricks, but this time he succeeded and a whoop of congratulations rose from those serving drinks. That was his one trick for the night, he decided, lest his good luck go down and he ruin it streak.

Alice on the other hand took a few orders and, flipping the bottle around in the air, poured three shots without spilling a drop. She was amazing to watch, and Claude hoped that one day he could be as good and agile as her.

Once all the drinks had been served and the bar closed for business, Claude and the others began cleaning up for the night. He didn't like closing much, mostly because cleaning up others sticky, pukie messes wasn't fun in the least. He grabbed a washcloth and a bucket and went to clean off the tables just after the music stopped, before all of the people left. He wanted to get out of there early tonight. He wasn't feeling so good.

Colleen let out a whoop and a clap with the rest of the bar crowd as the drinks came her way. She caught them easily and watched the lady behind the counter do her thing, grinning slightly. It's the kind of thing she could do with no problem, and she'd never been a bartender; for her, though, it was due to her vampiric reflexes - nothing else. She got a job as a bartender and started showing off, it would lead to uneasy questions - and even she couldn't manipulate the minds of every single vampire there. Then again, the lady bartender was also a vampire; perhaps her tricks were a product of her vampiric reflexes as well. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was a little too perfect even for a skilled bartender.

Colleen finished all but a few sips of her last drink as the music died and the mortal went to cleanup. Her next words weren't whispered, but they also weren't loud enough for them to echo over to the mortal's ears.

"So," she said, "what do you do on your off time? Surely you don't spend all your time here."

Colleen was only engaging the woman in small talk because she was bored and wanted to finish her drink casually, but it was two in the morning and she was curious. Despite being a Nephim, she hadn't socialized with too many vampires over the last sixty years. It had mostly been mortals, but every once in a while she liked a bit of immortal company. There were still four hours until dawn.