Panic stumbled in through the doors after he had awaken from his assault. A strange beast had attacked him he was now very confused. But he was happy to still be alive. He slid the key into the lock of the front door and then fell inside landing flat on the ground. He looked up and everything was blurry, moving in circles as if the shadows had come alive while he was gone.

He pushed himself up from the ceramic flooring and crawled to one of the swivel chairs that he tattooed other's in. Grinding his teeth and clenching the arm rests for dear life, he sat. He did not realize if but he had began bleeding all over himself. He turned and looked into the mirror but saw nothing. He gasped and fell out of his chair. "What the hell!?!" he yelled as he stood uneasily. Panic was thoroughly confused and deeply disturbed at this moment. Demaitre was known for being a little odd but not to this extreme. He suddenly ran up to the mirror and bashed his hand into it. His eye's seemed to be drawn to the shattering pieces of glass as they flew through the air and to the ground and counter top. He cursed and then his eye's caught the flow of blood that trickled from the cuts.

He stood dead still and watched, not even blinking at the scarlet liquid. He shook himself
suddenly and walked to the door now closing it. He pulled down the shades and turned the lights on. Looking up at them he frowned. "I should change these" he sighed as he walked over to the chair again. He pulled out a rag wiping off his hand and wrapping it up tight. He leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. "For now I guess the Midnight Club is open for business.

Just a small one he had said. Isabelle rolled her eyes. It's not like she had never wanted to get one. It's just that she had not decided what she wanted. If it was going to stick with her her whole life, she wanted something that suited her. She wanted something unique and daring- but not too out there.

It would "attract more business" he had said. "Your tips will pay for it all" he had said. She frowned. It's not like he could force her to do it. But she'd abide to his will, as she often did. He was the only one who really took care of her.

Isabelle pushed open the door to the tattoo parlor, bringing a cool burst of air with her. The little bells rang above her head, signaling her arrival.

"Hello?" she called out, seeing no one at first.

Why was she here? She should just turn around and go? Just walk away. But her feet stayed planted to the floor. She was putty, to be molded and shaped because her job was to make the men happy. She sighed. Such is life. Just a few more months and she'd be able to get into any dance school she wanted.

[hope you don't mind. I wasn't sure if this was for someone. It wasn't in the description. If it is, let me know. I won't be offended.]

Panic looked over to where the voice had come from. "Welcome to the Midnight Club." he said climbing out of the chair. "One moment and I'll be right with you" he said as he walked over to a small broom closet. He opened it up quickly, grabbing the broom and dust pan, and then went over the mess of glass all over the floor. He briskly sweeped up the shattered mirror and the disposed of it. He the returned to behind the desk.

"Now your here for a tattoo, is suppose" he said. "What do you want and where you want it?" he asked as he bent over to grab a booklet of the flash sheet tattoo's. A large selection lay inside, some of his own laying within the pages.

*Sorry for taking so long to reply*

"Hi, and thanks," Isabelle replied, unsuredly. While he cleaned up, she flipped through some of the artwork she saw, looking up as he approached.

He was extremely pale, almost sickly looking. Was he alright? She shrugged to herself. He seemed fine. And he was here, so what did it matter. As long as he was sanitary she didn't care.

"I don't know what I want, but where- we have a few choices. My lower back, my abdomen, or right here."

She placed her hands on the exposed flesh of her breasts before dropping them to her side.

"But I think I prefer one of the first two. I want something original. Something that suits me."

She felt like a bird in a cage. Perhaps that would fit her.

"Maybe a faerie? Can you do that?"

The Spartan had long flowing blonde hair that cascaded over honey-brown eyes that almost glowed in the darkness. She had smelled the blood and had come- looking to either save or scavenge a body, but none could be found.
The streets were seemingly empty of death, the alleys as well- Well, there were those that died on the streets in the night, but that wasn't the kind of death she was looking for. She was looking for murder.

As a member of the Amman, she had the duty to watch out for the mortals. It wasn't their fault they were at a disadvantage- and there was no excuse to kill and torture- and there was no reason to turn mortals randomly. There had been quite a few of those lately. And those unprepared fledglings reverted to violence and stupidity. She shook her head. All the young vampires turning humans- becoming sires when they themselves were not even adults. Dumbasses. Zeus, she swore that some days she'd never understand the selfishness of some--

Now. now- maybe she was being too harsh? Possibly. There was a possibility that she was being judgmental. True, she had a fledgling and she had murdered- but only when it was necessary. And her fledgling.... She was taken care of. Sane the last time she heard.

But that didn't matter. her child was of no consequence anymore.
Angelette was gone.

Ariel passed through and noticed a tattoo parlor called the midnight club. It was strange that a mortal would willingly work third shift in Demaitre. She shrugged. Whatever floats your boat?

Her ivory skin was flawless, except for a few scars and cuts that graced her usually bare feet. But tonight, tonight her hair hung loose about her slender frame and a simple yellow bohemian dress clung to her body, swirling in the gentle but unfeeling wind. Leather thongs accessorized her feet. She pulled her brown sweater around her shoulder, really out of habit and not out of need. She couldn't feel the brisk night air anyways.

She stepped into the parlor, the bells ringing overhead. She always liked to witness art- and look at the books in the parlors. Of course, fate would have it that she couldn't get a tattoo- it'd heal too fast, but she liked to look. She was an artsy one. She had her own flat above a restaurant and actually sold painting and sketches and other such things to pay for her rent and clothing. She was- actually- rather good. But music, art, and dancing had always been her passion. And throughout her centuries of existence- that hadn't changed. It never would.

"Hello...." she greeted the two with a warm smile, immediately noticing what the male was. She arched a slender eyebrow and met his eyes- wondering if he could feel what she was?

Panic nodded to the first women who wanted the pixie tattoo. Then he turned towards the other person. In the back of his head he thought "Wow, business is really getting good." As he turned to the new woman, he felt a strange notion like she was strange, and oddly supernatural but he just figured he was still a little shook up from his earlier encounter.

"Okay, well I guess I can do a pixie and when it's done you can tell me where you want it." he said. "Until then, just hang out." he said as he went over to his light box where he began working on his layout for the tattoo.

As he sketched out the pin up girl style tattoo of the pixie, he thought about what the other women was doing. She had looked at him funny for some reason though he wasn't the most usual person you would ever see but she was in a tattoo parlor, what could you expect. He had a feeling that something might have happened during the jumping of him and this lady knew what that something was. After about 20 minutes he finished the look. It was a tan skinned pixie that was bent over laying on her back but in a vertical form. She had flowing hair and bright and big eye's that gave an emphasis on her face.

"This good?" he asked laying it out on the table. If you want i can put it on your leg and you can see what it looks like on you." he says enjoying his art. Right now he was really enjoying himself right now. He always really got into his work whether it was just a basic tattoo for somebody or one with really deep meaning.

Isabelle looked up as another woman walked in. For a moment she had trouble taking her eyes off of her. She was gorgeous. She had creamy skin and long blonde hair... but it wasn't what she looked like, but how she held herself and those glowing eyes. There was something mysterious and slightly dark about her. Isabelle had never seen a woman like her.

She might have gasped, she didn't know, before she turned her eyes away and sat down. The artist had told her to wait. She would wait.

"Can you make her look a bit... sad?" She asked as he began to work on it. Then she was silent, watching the two of them, until he called her back.

She took a look at it and nodded. She liked it. She supposed she had always wanted a faerie of sorts when she had first thought about getting a tattoo.

"I can't have it on my leg," she frowned. Though it might look sexy there, but if she was going to dance for a living... and by dancing she didn't mean stripping, she was going to need to put it some place that would be inconspicious were she to be in a unitard.

"My lower back. I think I'd like it there."

Ariel didn't respond to their stares or curiosity, merely opened the book of tattoo drawings, pictures, and templates and began to search. She did rather like the gothic roses, the symbols, and the lettering. However, as stated before- she could no longer get tattoos. She was dead. But she wanted to speak with the artist. He was a vampire as well ad she was quite intrigued by him. He didn't seem to know what had hit him yet. Had the hunger even tempted him yet?

Would the blood of the tattoo be enough to make him under the mortal that he would be inking on? Would it? Either way she looked at it- the decision to stay was wise.

Ariel picked up the book and took a seat in the corner, her eyes occasionally flicking up to the others as she turned a page. It was obvious she was waiting- but for what- even she did not know.

Panic nodded as he placed the layout on her lower back. It was pretty good on any body part which made it such a good tattoo. He showed her where a mirror was so she could take a look at it. Meanwhile he walked over to the other lady in the corner. "Hello, welcome to the Midnight Club, my tattoo parlor." he said in sort of a business voice. "I'm Panic, how can I help you this evening." he asked looking into the mesmerizing eye's. He was taken back now for he didn't really notice the beauty of the lady when she walked in. Now he noticed the creamy yet slightly pale skin, and the dress. He smiled now catching himself staring.

Panic was interested in what this strange women wanted or whether she was just another artist looking at his tattoo selection. Either way he wanted to know a little more about her.

Ariel smiled, her eyes quite gentle, but not overly so. She smiled at Panic.
“Hi. I’m Ariel- It’s nice to meet you. I’m here for--- well, I was looking at some of your designs. I don’t think I want a tattoo but I certainly admire your art and would really like to talk with you about your style…. After she’d inked however. Don’t worry, I can wait.” And so she did. Ariel sat back, flipping pages occasionally and running her fingers over the laminated books- interested and intrigued by the color, design, and craftsmanship of Panic Habil.

ooc: sry it's so short

ooc: No prob

bic:"I'd enjoy that." he said as he walked over to the tattoo seat and prepared for the job. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves and got the colors around. "So what colors do you want?" Panic yelled to Isabelle. He needed to get ready so he could get the most out of his time this evening. He hadn't tattooed in a while and he would probably need to get back into his profession more than he was.
ooc:Sorry so short, not much on my mind for this post.

She had him place it on her, not in the middle of her back, but instead on her hip. She decided later on she'd want to get something symmetrical on her lower back and up her spin.... if she got another tattoo.

"Hmm?" she heard Panic's voice, "Oh. Colors. I want her to have dark red hair and... maybe blue for her dress. Any other colors you can choose. Though I'd like some orange in there somewhere."

While she had been speaking to him, she had wondered over to the chair and sat down to wait.

((Mine's short too. Blah. The tattoo on my hip was the worst on the pain scale I think. I think fat hurts worse than muscle and bone put together. Ha. ^.^ Besides it's also partly on my ribs.))

Panic nodded gathering some of the various colors that she wanted and a couple others for blending purposes. He then sat down and got the needle ready, and then began. As he inked he began to get back into his rhythm, going along at a slow but even pace. "So what made you want to get a tattoo?" he asked as he worked on the deep red for the hair. He liked a little conversation to help the person get through it a little easier and to help his mind have something to focus on while his hand did the work.

To him his customer looked a little peculiar and not someone that you would see on a usual basis. Of course not a lot of people knew that this place was open at midnight to 4 A.M. so he didn't blame them. He glanced over to the other lady briefly but then turned back to Isabelle.

She watched him with interest, studying every graceful movement- every twitch of muscle fiber. She could hear the woman's heart but couldn't seem to hear his. He was gone. Did he know that he was gone? Could he feel the fangs in his mouth? He was oddly sane for one so young. She suspected that he didn't know. Did he? He couldn't. Her nose told her that the attack had occurred early this night- and he- he just wouldn't be this calm. Hell, she wasn't this calm after being turned. Damn little pre-teen vampires- running around the city, turning people left and right for their own selfish gain. It was- disgusting.

She frowned, and even in that horrid expression her face was still breathtaking. It came with being unable to decay. It came with vampirism. It came- with death. But this wasn't death. This was- something else. She talked, she breathed, she felt, she cried, she raged, she ripped, and she crashed like a storm upon the shore. She was just as alive as anything in nature. Perhaps vampirism was a way of going back to nature- back to the earth and the darkness….. back to the beginning of time when everything was black and cold.

As Panic tattooed he began to think deeply. Now he knew that something had happened just hours earlier and that something strange was going on. He felt somehow different as if everything was beginning to come into focus for him. He definitely was the same in looks but there was a new sight that had just awoken within him.

He gracefully moved the vibrating needle in his grip, puncturing the skin again and again, leaving a trace of ink that was so fine in his eye that it might just blow away in a breeze. And once the other color would go on the pixie might as well up, and fly away, glittering off in the cold night.

But now he snapped back into his mind, that was tieing down to this plane of existence. He sanity was holding him down, keeping his from finding out the truth of what he now was. A dead but breathing Vampire. A creature of the night. A shadow to the sunlight.

Isabelle winced as she heard the sound of the gun coming closer to her skin. Her automatic reaction would normally be to pull away, but she didn't move. She didn't want him to mess up but she could feel the sinking feeling of dread in her stomach. Then the gun touched her and all her muscles tingled. And not in a good way. It was all she could do to keep herself from moving away. Nevermind the little muscle twitches she couldn't control.

"Feels like cat scratches," she muttered, "But deeper and worse. Right down to the bone." She knew it wasn't going that far, but it was enough that it felt like it.

At least he was talking to her, distracting her and it didn't take long for her endorphines to release and lessen the pain. She had felt dizzy for only a moment but that quickly faded as she got used to it.

"My boss wants me to get one," she began softly. Did she want to admit to this stranger what she did? He would automatically think her a whore like everyone else. Maybe it was best to keep it to herself, "Says it will add color and appeal."

She rolled her eyes, "Guys like sexy tattoos I guess."

Maybe by now he would have guessed what it was that she did.

With a sigh she looked away from where he was working. Watching had helped lessen the pain, a bit. But now she was growing bored and it was helping less. She needed something new to set her eyes on.

They automatically shifted to the girl in the room with them and Isabelle heard her breath automatically catch in her throat. She had such an ancient beauty. Perhaps the two of them would think it was about the pain. Isabelle forced herself to look away from the woman and back to her tattoo.

"Don't you ever get tired or sore? Especially when it takes hours?" She didn't know what else to say. Now she too was just trying to make conversation.

"Hmm, so your getting a tattoo for work. That sounds pretty cool." he said as he kept working along with the inking. "Some people like them, but personally I don't like the pain to much. I prefer the style and the work it takes to put one on another's skin." he stated almost matter of factly. "Do I get Tired, yeah sometimes. But its just one of those things that you sit through and ignore the aches and pains. In the sake of the art." he said finally after a few moments. He kept on working neatly, assuming from what this person said that she was either a stripper of a prostitute. "Whatever you have to do."

He sighed lightly whiping off the excess ink and light blood. His eye's were suddenly stuck to it. He smelled the air and the scent and it all melted together. He was in a mental high. He kept working but now he was twitching. He suddenly shut the needle off, and pulled off his gloves. "I'll be right back" he said choking the words out. He fast walked into the rest room not bothering to lock the door behind him. He stood staring into the mirror but he saw nothing. He just stood there darkly, and then he turned the water on letting it run over his hands. He closed his eye's and stood like a statue. Now his tongue grazed his fangs. He couldn't believe. He was a vampire.

And then it happened.

Exactly what Ariel had been waiting for. He realized. He finally realized when had happened. She could smell the blood too, feel his stomach clench with the hunger of it. And he knew- knew the desire. Her eyes smiled as he resisted the urge, fought the temptation of the woman's blood. She sighed and stood, excusing herself so that she might follow him.

"I have to- use the restroom," she told the other woman, the mortal. Her smile was reassuring, soothing, and confident, just the sort of thing to keep the human calm- and unawares of what was really happening.

She slid into the door which he had entered, the home-made restroom sign above it quite quaint for a tattoo parlor. She appeared behind him, her reflection showing in the mirror. She had never developed that certain trait. She was lucky. How horrid would it be to not see yourself for such a long time?

His reflection, however, did not show. He was one of them- kin. He was her kin now. And he was only just now realizing. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, her touch sure and strong.
"You alright? Don't let the reflection fool you...." she explained, smiling to show flashing white fangs. "I'm one too."

She turned off the water and turned so that she could sit on the sink. She touched his cheek with one hand, examining him.
"You were turned tonight I presume- any idea who did it? And.... please Panic, keep this newfound life- or rather- death of yours.... a secret."

Panic was somewhat suprised yet he had a gut feeling that she was different from the other lady in the room. That beauty, such a dark yet age old beauty. Death was never thought to be beautiful to him until now. "A secret." he said nodding to her. "I have now idea who did it. I was just traveling home when a man leaped out and knocked me out. That is all I remember. When I awoke I stumbled here and thats when Isabelle arrived." he said his mind and voice slightly cloudy.

"How did you know that I was a vampire as well?" he said still a little confused. Panic was completely shocked through tonight and it seemed like that wasn't going to stop.

Isabelle winced again at the slight pain as he spoke to her, distracting her. She didn't really feel like talking now. Just listening. She sort of wished she had music in her ears to help her distraction.

Then he suddenly stopped. She had noticed he had looked pale when she came in. Maybe he was sick. She followed him with her eyes as he got him, concerned but not knowing what to do. He had become uncomfortable so fast. She could see it in his face. Isabelle knew she didn't do it. She hadn't even said anything to him. She frowned. And as the other woman left her alone in the room, her frown deepened.

Isabelle didn't feel comfortable now. She was slightly cold, though glad for the break, and she felt utterly alone. She knew it was silly. It was just a room. It wasn't like she wasn't used to being alone- but she didn't want to be alone just then. She wanted to check on Panic, to make sure he was okay. He had left so quickly that her stomach was no uneasy.

Isabelle had always been that way. Others pain was her pain. She didn't like to be in a room where someone was angry or sad, because she tended to absorb the energy in the air and it effected her. Generally when someone was angry in a room, she got agitated. But now she felt agitated for a different reason. Something just felt wrong. But she couldn't leave now... and she didn't want to. She had to make sure he was okay. She'd wait a few more minutes before she want to go check on him.

Ariel closed the bathroom door and locked it, the doorknob fixing itself in place with a click. Just in case. Just in case the mortal decided to play the sympathetic persona. Ariel smiled warmly. She had become cold over the years, but her outward expression and treatment of others had never suggested harshness. She was here to help- one of the Amman, a protector of sorts-

The Spartan grinned as he asked how she knew.
"I can feel it, smell it, and sense it--" Ariel sighed, cupping his face. "You're also abnormally cold, as pale as an anemic...." She shook her head and took her hands away, leaning on the sink, and this time speaking in hushed tones. The little human couldn't possibly overhear.

"As a vampire, you can usually just sense a fellow.... you just have to- feel it. Don't you feel something different when you look at me- rather than when you look at Isabelle. You recognized me as something different when I walked in- but you didn't know what that something different was.... and now you do-"

Ariel looked over her shoulder. "Does your home have dark curtains? You know you can never go out in sunlight again- you need to feed though I don't know how often since your sire has abandoned you- Dammit- I hate when they do that." She frowned. "My sire left me, but she did show me the ropes first... and then I led my own life.... rather death- anyways, you have any questions for me?"

He was- so lost. He didn't understand anything. It was- truly horrendous. How could a vampire possibly leave someone so vulnerable? And at the mercy of the thirst? She just- had to help him. It was her duty. She had this duty. Besides, it wasn't as if she had anything better to do than answer his questions.

"Wow, yes I did feel something different when I saw you." he said now beginning to realize some of the things she was saying were absolutely true.

"Curtains?" he asked. I have some blankets set up over the windows. "I usually sleep during the day anyways so yes." he said thinking of the layout of his home.

He could never see the sun again. "Life in darkness, plunged into shadows forever. Should be a new experience." he thought out loud. "Umm, how old are you?" he asked. "I know it is rude to ask a lady her age but I just want to know." he said now more carefully about choosing his words.

"I do have some questions as well. Why did this suddenly occur when I saw the blood that I wiped off of Isabelle? And why me?" he added as the thought popped into his mind. "Was it just some random attacking or was I chosen; basically what I'm asking is when you hunt do you just pick whoever or do you have designated people you can feed on?" he asked putting emphasis on the work hunt for he wasn't sure if it was the proper term.

Ariel merely smiled as he spoke, her twisted lips gentle and warm. She nodded and laughed softly, musically, as he asked her age.
"I'm not sure the exact age, but I do now I'm about one-thousand and ten years of age.... Yeah, that sounds about right. It has been such a long time---"
She tilted her head and put a finger to her lips to hush him as he began asking questions fervently.

"Shhh.... we don't want Isabelle to hear," Ariel stood and moved closer to him- looking back at the door for a moment. "The hunger appears because you have not fed yet- the hunger is triggered by blood. You must drink blood. I'm not sure if dead blood will kill you or not so make sure you always drink live blood- blood from the living. Try not to kill if you don't have to---"

She paused. "Biting is instinct- the body will take over when you unleash the thirst, but you'll still have to check it- prevent yourself from letting the desire own you. You have to own it." She nodded curtly. "It takes practice- and constant vigilance."

"Why you? I don't know.... There was no choice- for if your sire really wanted to turn you- he or she would have stayed with you- would not have abandoned you...." Ariel frowned in thought.
"Hunting does not mean making vampires- turning vampires is not just biting them- usually there is a sharing of blood or a series of three bites and a night's rest. Hunting is feeding- not turning. Making fledglings- or vampires out of humans- isn't wise for vampires as young as you. You should wait.... oh- maybe three hundred years or so before you can sire with control. Most fledglings sired by the young go mad and end up slaying themselves or turn into mad murderers and have to be slain by the members of the Amman. I am- an Amman actually."

"An Amman?" he asked now in a hushed tone so as not to be to loud. He was starting to get the picture now but he was confused and now very hungry. He needed some sustenance to fuel his undead body.

After a moment of silent thought he asked "So why am I different from you besides age?" he asked quickly sitting down on the toilet. He stretched out lightly as he asked the questions that the woman brought up and some that he wondered about.

Ariel laughed softly, moving closer to him as he sat on the toilet. She let her hand drop down and run itself through his hair in a calming motion. He needed to relax. His blood pressure was rising. She could feel it. He was hungry- and he still had to learn.

"Relax; I'll take you hunting myself to watch you." It wasn't an offer. It was a command, a statement. She had to make sure he knew how to do it. And how to do it right. She frowned slightly as she spoke.
"Vampires can join covens if they wish- and I am old enough to be one of the Amman. We protect and defend the humans from the more violent covens. Some vampires never choose to join a coven, but most think of a coven as a family.... If you wished I could explain more and take you to the hideaways so you could join a family- unless you are the solitary type." Her warm brown eyes sparked as she looked at him with scrutiny.

"Though if you choose to be Ishak or Tarepha I will abandon you Panic," he voice was kind, but a thread of anger ran under it- a current of something dangerous. Despite Ariel's kind appearance, deep down- she had as much fury as those vampires which she hated.

"We are different because I am stronger. I know control. I know how and what to do to turn a mortal. With age comes wisdom and you--- you do not have that knowledge yet. I'm not saying I'm perfect- or that I don't make mistakes, but I've lived this long...." she shrugged, as if her words proved their own point.

Her fingers still ran through his hair. She turned her hand and let her wrist fall just before his eyes.
"Take a bite and I'll stop you when you've had enough. Just open your mouth and bite before sucking. Trust me- I won't let you hurt me--- and this will tide you over so that you can finish that woman's tattoo. Afterwards, we'll go find you something more filling."
She clenched her fist and braced for the bite, her eyes calm.

Panic took in the information slowly, nodding occasionally. When she ran her fingers through his hair his cares almost slipped away but then when she told him to bite down he hesitated. He then sunk the fangs into Ariel's wrist. He was surprised by how easily the fangs sunk into the pale flesh but then he began to take in the blood. "Smooth like Vodka" he thought as he took it in gradually. He felt his hunger pangs disappear and float away as he fed from his savior.

He continued to drain the red liquid from the wrist. It was wonderful what he took in. He didn't want to stop. He had to have it all. He looked up and then he suddenly snapped back to his right mind. He pulled away. "I'm sorry" he said walking over to the sink to wash his face. "Thank you for that." he said. "I need to go finish my work" he said, his voice now darker, deeper than before.

He unlocked the bathroom door and plastered a small smile on his face. "Thank you for waiting" he said to Isabelle as he sat back down, pulling on his rubber gloves. He turned back on the needle, got some ink, and the went back to coloring silently while thoughts floated through his head about what just occurred in the bathroom.

She had just been about to check on him when he came out. Looking not so pale and sickly as before. That was good.

"Oh, no worries. It was nice to have a break," but she immediately regretted it as she said it. The pain was worse now after her body had a chance to relax and it wasn't ready for the sudden feel of the needle against skin.

"Christ," she muttered under her breath, grimacing for a moment as her body got used to the pain.

"Hey, are you alright? I mean, you looked pretty pale a moment ago."

"I just had to throw up real quick" he said as though it was something that was very common. "Not a really big deal" he said as he worked. "We are almost finished he said as he neared completion of the coloring. "This is just the base colors though" he said quickly. "You'll have to come in again next week after it has worked into your skin. Then I can finish up the coloring. It should stay covered up though" he said. "Otherwise it will get infected." he said peeling off the gloves real quick. He placed the needle away, and stood up. "I'll see you next week then." he said stretching out his hands

Ariel grimaced as he bit- quite hard. However, it was to be expected. The young knew no control- no restraint. But surprisingly- he let go of his own accord. She didn't have to pry her hand from his grasp and that was good. he'd be fine then. If he had enough control to stay stop now- at the most tempting stage of vampirism.... Well then, he'd be fine when he got out on his own.

She licked the remainder of the blood off her wrist with a catlike flick of the tongue, her eyes watching her reflection in the bathroom mirror as he brushed past her to finish his work. Ariel took time to clean her wrist in the sink before she returned to the main room of the parlor. She sighed and seated herself in her corner as before and smiled at the human, civil and reassuring.

She picked up a sketchbook and began to peruse once again- waiting for Panic to finish and close up for the night.

"Oh," muttered Isabelle, "Okay. Well I hope you feel better."

She was quiet as they finished up the coloring, but something felt wrong about what he had said. And that woman was still waiting there. They had acted like they hadn't known each other but maybe they were lovers or something of the sort. But it wasn't any of her business really.

"Thank you," she told him as they finished up and she paid the man the cost of her tattoo plus a twenty dollar tip.

"See you next week."

And then she was gone, with nothing left to say.

[I suppose she didn't really have a place in this plot. Maybe later or something.]

(Definitely Aspen.)

Panic walked over to the counter and pulled out the key to the shop. He walked about and locked the back door, and shut off the lights. He locked up the remaining hardware that he had used, and then walked to the door.

"We can go now if you want." he said leaning up against the desk. Panic opened up the door ushering Ariel out the door. "Ladies first" he said suavely. It was cold out but it didn't bother him as much as it had before. He looked over his shoulder to make sure she was following him. He then walked back to the door after she was out and locked up shop.

Ariel stepped out into the night, her element. The darkness had harbored her for so long. God, it had been- so long. So many years.... alone. She looked over to Panic and couldn't help but pity him. Sure, the powers- the strength- it was all invigorating and exciting. But at the end of the night- you died. And at the end of a century or less- everyone else died.

She shook her head sadly. How many of her own friends and family had died as she lived on? She was forced to walk on- alone for all time, until she was slain or decided to take her own life. But she was afraid of death- she was afraid of the watery river of death- afraid of meeting Hades, afraid of displeasing the gods. They had given her such a wonderful gift, but the gifts of the gods always had drawbacks. But she'd be fine. She had made it this far- without losing too much of her composure.

He locked up the parlor and she flashed him a white smile that burned through the shadows. "Hungry?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow- ready to show him, just what they did- ready to explain to him what he should never do....

She had a duty- to make this world a better place. And she did that- by making sure vampires didn't torture the human race. At least, she did what she could. She had been a human once as well- they all had been- how could they possibly forget their lives?

She hadn't forgotten hers. She thought of it often- of her mother. The only person she ever truly loved.