nice COLD;; one (boundaries of the U N D E R W O R L D)

Title: nice COLD;; one
Description: open

Troy Bradley White - July 20, 2007 09:18 PM (GMT)

The sun was playing peek-a-boo behind some thick lingering clouds overhead that promised rain in the near to immediate future. That was just for the best. Depressive days either pushed people into their beds or woke them up for a day out on the town because dark things and days just made people happy. Just the thought of death either turned them on or made them skip in the rain. Troy could see how many could get thrills out of dark days, deadly things, and near death experiences. That Grim Reaper was such an appealing figure that it would be highly difficult to back away if He tempted you with such an offer. Humans were fickle creatures – some were stupid then a box of rocks, some had the bodies to rock all night long, and others were so tempted by death that they would probably gladly turn into a vampire just to flirt with danger and that sweet seductive death. Ever since he had turned not so long ago, he had made Death his bitch and did whatever he damn well felt like with whoever, whenever. Nothing stopped him – cops, werewolves, and not even a coven leader. He was just the cocky bad ass on the back of a motorcycle.

The roar of his engine wasn’t as loud as others for it was tricked out to be quieter instead of louder. Quieter was much more threatening then a boisterous loud engine that would completely wake up anybody that he was robbing from. The motorcycle made its way through the street that had a presence as if the Devil had risen from the fiery flames to collect their souls. People stopped and stared as if a saber-toothed tiger was making its way down the street on a unicycle, in a tutu. It didn’t bother the eldest White boy; it was a common reaction really. The black helmet with a silver skull on it just made him feel completely untouchable by the entire world. It was a masculine feeling. There was no particular reason into why he was out and about in a world for of humans, not that there was any hatred toward them. Being cooped up was irritating and he just loved to cruise the streets, no matter how small or wide, poor or rich, or what they were selling or who was living in it.

Pulling off onto the side of the street, cutting off one of those miniature compact cars, a finger was given with leather-clothed hands to match the rustic leather motorcycle jacket. Manners weren’t really his strong suit at the moment, had it been a girl with wearing a bikini top and Daisy Duke shorts, then maybe something a little more regal would have been used, but it was just a bald guy with thick rimmed glasses. Stepping off the bike to remove the helmet made him feel like he was from a movie. Had he been a female, a good shake of the hair would have been earned, but neither did he have hair, or much of any, and he was not a woman. Looking up into the sky, removing the gloves, the vampire reached into the jacket and pulled out a set of aviator sunglasses to perch at the ridge of his nose. The sun was promised to hide out for a while, but he didn’t want to take a chance. It was doubted the sun would even find a patch of chilly skin except the neck and face for the jeans, worker boots, navy t-shirt, and the leather jacket hid the integumentary system.

Smiling at a group of giggling young ladies, Troy left the motorcycle to head off inside one of the bars for a nice cold one. No matter what people said, the beer in France just did not taste as good as if in America. It didn’t matter if it was imported from the same place or was the same brand; it tasted different, not as authentic. That didn’t stop him though, drinks were drinks and he needed a drink. It would stop the incredible craving overcoming his tongue to eat a pig. Pig blood was not his favorite, but damn did it sound down right tasty. Entering the bar, aviators still on, the large man took a seat at the bar to order a beer in English. Being in Paris for so long, French had been picked up in different forms of dialect, but so many bartenders knew English since many of the America tourists found the comfort of a bar so much more nicer. This bar, however, was famous for both vampires and werewolves. It didn’t bother him. Sitting there, drinking the beer, a flask was pulled from the coat and dropped in several red drops of blood. Eyes pierced the back of his almost-bald head. A mischievous smile spread over his lips. He was all in the mood for the fight, flirting with Death, and drinking till he died, which would be quite some time.

Jac Roberst - July 25, 2007 09:39 PM (GMT)

Jac's eyes searched the heavens, not that they were there of course. If they were than that would mean there's a hell, and there's not. The proof of that is that if there was, Jac would be there. She smirked up at the clouds. In her hand was stroking the fabric of a shirt. It was once white but was not like a dalmations coat. Only, it wasn't black and white, it was black and red.

Attachted to the ripped shirt was a body. A teenage boy, dumb enough to whistle at her tiny mini-skirt. The white skirt also had splatters of his blood on it, it didn't matter. Half his neck was ripped out, why should she give him the curtosy of a clean death after the disresepect he gave her?

He didn't die instantly. Oh no, he only passed on a few moments before, which meant he felt the full angony of his throat being ripped to pieces, he felt Jac pin him to the floor, her sharp nails digging holes in his arms. He got to feel his blood being poured out of him, along with his life.

Jac dropped the shirt, the body falling to the floor with a small thud. She smirked, looking back up at the cloudy skies. Where were you god? She thought to herself as she stuck her middle finger up at the clouds, wiping her mouth with the spare hand. Where the fuck were you when he was screaming your name for mercy?! She laughed bitterly as she left the dark alley, leaving the young boy in a pool of his own, solidifying blood.

Jac was on a high from her blood. So young, so fresh. Her smile was slightly crooked but her eyes shined a brilliant, unhuman blue. Her ears picked up everything, the sound of a faint motorcycle and that's when among the fumes she picked up the scent, and it smelt yummy.

Jac followed the scent, her feet barely touching the floor, she moved with such silent grace. She was eery like a ghost, that's all she really was. No covern, no family, no friends and no need for any of them. Jac entered a bar, one which she was very familiar with and they were very familiar with her.

She grinned at the bar tender, blood still around her lips. "Jac." He said with an exhausted sigh, yet he did manage a small smile as he poured her her usual straight vodka. "Thanks." She smiled with a small nod, sitting at the bar next to the thing she'd tracked. She could tell, from the scent pouring off him that his blood was going to be a thousands times sweeter than thats jerks which was already pulsating around her body,

Troy Bradley White - July 26, 2007 12:52 AM (GMT)

((Not to sound like a complete nerd, but could you watch out between the words ‘were’ and ‘where’. You’re using ‘where’ instead of ‘were’. I’m just saying =P))

Taking a drink of the beer, his eyes moved around the glasses, looking at all of the paraphernalia around the place. He had been there several times, but it always amazed him why the owner put up such stuff. Didn’t they fear that they would get stolen? It was in wonderment that somebody hadn’t already. Old posters of movies, newspaper articles ice skates from what seemed like the 1800s, new pictures and old pictures, and just stuff that looked like it should have been in a museum. It would a great place to steal from, but really, he didn’t have the heart to steal from the establishment in which got most of his service. Troy would protect the place, if he were bored, before he stole from it. The stained glass behind the bar that held different assortments of glasses and alcohol was mesmerizing to look at; he could even see himself in it. The TV soon caught his eyes – an old baseball game. Worked nicely for him.

The place was small and not upscale, which it didn’t need to be since their clients were exactly the rich and famous. The most that hung around were vampires, even a werewolf or two, quite a bit of humans of various prostitutes, biker dudes, and just regular Joes. There was a pool table in one corner, accompanied by a jukebox that held nothing but classic rock, which suit him fine still again, and a couple of tables. It was normal and he liked it since Troy was one of the best looking guys in the place, not that it really took a whole lot since a lot of them looked like their mother and father had once been sister and brother. It was a wonder they had an IQ at all. Perhaps they had a sixth toe, and not possibly on there feet either. The woman were pretty…some of them, but he’d pretty much lay anything with boobs and a pulse.

There was a strong scent of vampire that had just walked in. They smelt fun. Barely tilting his head, peering out from the corner of his eye, he saw a nice piece of female body walk in. From behind those big, dark glasses, he trailed those orbs up and down her body. Slowly looking away, still managing to see her as she approached the bar, a sly smirk formed on his lips, taking a drink of the beer. Mmm…went down smooth. Jac. Her name was Jac. It was a unique name which Troy thoroughly loved – hot name for a hot girl. Running a big hand over his face, scratching at the five o’clock shadow, he removed the glasses to return them to the pocket they had come from and crossed those bulking arms on the bar. Sure, the vampire would rather draw blood from an animal then a human, but just the shape of the guy was purely intimidating, like he had snapped the neck of his mother just to prove a point. Some found it scary, others just for it quirky and kind of hot. It was a surprise how many innocent girls went for the bad guys. The eldest White was a bad guy, just not a murderer.

Turning to look at her again, enjoying that she was bold enough to shoot the vodka straight, his eyes followed her body again. Like it could have been stopped. The Sanguinaire was a red-blooded male full of testosterone pulsing through him. ”Come here often?” It wasn’t a pick up line, wasn’t supposed to be, just merely picking up conversation. If this Jac only wanted to talk, he’d talk, if she wanted to play pool, he’d follow like a puppy, and if she wanted to get more physical, he wouldn’t say no. It was his mission really, to get some tail. Rolling back his shoulders, feeling the sinew move about, Troy finally looked the female in the eyes, removing them from the bar in front of him. She was a vampire, that was for sure, but whose side was she on? Usually they had a smell to them, but this one didn’t. It didn’t matter all too much too him really. What would they do? Kick him out of the coven – oh boo hoo.

Jac Roberst - July 26, 2007 08:34 AM (GMT)

((Eck, I'm such a retard. I'll look out for that :] ))

Jac raised her thin eyebrow in amusement as the vampire spoke. To be honest she'd expected something better from him. Come here often? Just the sentence alone made her think of him as sexually dormant, one of those nerds with come overs at a speed dating company. After all, how many girls is he going to pick up with that line? Though, he did have the looks, just a glance in his direction and she was tempted her to a various array of things that god would not look kindly upon, becuase if he did he would be named a pervert among other things. And maybe it wasn't a chat up line, maybe he was just trying to be "friendly" or something, unusual but it happened.

Jac studied her clouded glass for a while before answering him. She held the beaker in her hand, swishing it around absent-mindedly before gulping it down. It took a hell of a lot to make her even tipsy, she just liked the way it burned fire right down her throat. She put the glass down to one side, watching as it got refilled before turning her hypnotic gaze back to him. Her eyes flashed an icy blue for a second before returning to thier normal earthy brown which shone out with an intense clarity. Her eyes, where her most striking feature, they seemed to draw you in, tempting you to whatever she needed at the time, it worked alot better on humans but who she never really needed it that much for vampires or lycans anyway.

"Often enough." She said with a small smile to cover the fact it came out so cold. She didn't like the way she said it at all, it sounded fridgid and like she wasn't interested, and she really was. She smiled again revealing her teeth his time. No her vampire teeth, her human teeth which where naturally quite pointed anyway. She needed to fix this. "I guess you know my name.." She said, leaning over enough so that she could whisper in his ear. "And I think I know yours." She grinned pulling back and downing her second glass of vodka.

Troy Bradley White - July 26, 2007 08:47 PM (GMT)

Life had been great to him the last couple of weeks with great things to steal. It was a surprise on how many of those air polluting Hummers were roaming around Paris. The normal traffic was foot traffic, those on bikes or scooters, and those compact cars that just didn’t seem quite normal to him yet considering America never really had compacts, just big mack trucks, convertibles, and really anything except compacts. It was even rare to see a motorcycle around, which made him love his even more. Heads turned to watch the great piece of machinery roll down the streets. It was his baby really. It was the only object in his life that he loved. If he had to pick between women or his motorcycle, it’d be a tough choice, but it’d most definitely be that motorcycle, unless this woman really meant a lot to him. Too many hours went into the building of that metal ride, but it was all worth it – not only giving him something to do, but he got to play around in oil, something he thoroughly loved to do, acting like a grease monkey. If stealing ever became too tiring for him, Troy would start up his own shop. It almost sounded fun.

Did he ever miss America? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. There were moments in time when there was an extreme longing for those spring break vacations to Florida and just the people or opportunities. He loved the people! So many of them were friendly toward him no matter what mood he was in. Even when filling up the gas tank people would say ‘hi’ when they came too, asked how his day was, and then even tell him ‘to have a good one.’ Complete strangers too! It was always amazing to see how truly nice people in America could be. Then again, there came the creeps and crazies too. Those that did unspeakable things to their own kind, which reminded him much, like the Meutriers or the Courroucés. They would not only kill anything in site, but the people in their own pack or coven. It was sadistic and something a complete maniac would do. Troy would never be able to bring himself to kill a human, not even if his own life depended it…well…depending on the situation anyway.

Often enough. The way she said it came off frigid, but that didn’t really bother him any. That answer made him wonder if she came all that much. He was a regular and never really saw Jac around, but that didn’t stop them from coming in at different hours of the day or night. Troy didn’t keep the same hours from one day to the next, it just all depended on what heist he was doing that day, what girls he could get, and when slept crept over him. Smiling, he nodded his head to a response to her first statement. ”Yes, I do know your name.” It was almost like a game what they were doing. He always loved the chase of cat-and-mouse with a girl – the hunt, but only for sexual reasons, not food. ”And you think? That sounds oh-so positive,” Troy said with a nice, toothy grin, looking over at her, just teasing her. What fun was a woman when a guy couldn’t play around – in more ways then one.

Jac Roberst - July 26, 2007 09:02 PM (GMT)

"Mr Troy White?"

"It's not that hard to work out, A vampire with an american accent, on a motorcycle..not many of those around."

"Your also anothe thief.. like me.."

human

"So now you guess who I am, you know I'm Jac but what's my alias."

black widow

"I need.."

Something a little stronger

Troy Bradley White - July 28, 2007 12:49 AM (GMT)

Mister? Oh how formal of her. And really, formal wasn’t the first thing a person thought of when they looked at the woman. Mister was his father or some old flunky with a graying beard and salt and pepper hair on the top of their head that they cover with a hat, which failed miserably. Not even good ‘ole Dad called either of his sons that and brother Blake called his big brother an assortment of names, but none of them Mister. It was just kind of funny for the big guy, mostly because it was so American, something foreign to him anymore. They were in Paris where a majority of them, not so surprisingly, spoke French where it was all monsieur and madam. Her guess was golden, but Troy knew that it was going to be easy, even amongst a group of people from the same town Jac would be able to point him out – he seemed to be the only one on a motorcycle, and God did he love it! Not many? Almost none, but that little statement sure did feed the ego, hence the smile plastered on his face. ”Thief? Moi?” he asked as if surprised. ”Oh, no, I’m not professional, I just do it for fun,” he said matter of factly, almost smugly.

His glossy eyes didn’t need to dart down to the spot where her hand rested on his land. It could be felt, which was pretty much the point. Like that would ‘tame’ him at all from not jumping her bones. The smile stayed close to his lips, watching her like she was the best sports game on TV. She was playing coy with him. Hell, she was just playing with him like he was her cat toy. Yes, Troy really knew her alias, but answering it would play into the palm that he was a professional thief since only those in the business or those that had been one of her victims knew the alias since it was one of the scariest things a person could really hear. Twitching nose back and forth resembling the act of trying to think difficulty and with longevity. ”Well, lets see, if you were a villain in a comic book, all in spandex and revealing clothes…let me think about that first.” Eyes shut, a cocky half smile formed on his face truly imagining this image. It was good too. ”I believe it’d be something like…Black Widow perhaps?” One eye peeked open as one shoulder moved into a shrug.

Taking another drink of the beer with the blood infused, he could feel himself grow stronger and just almost out of control, like he was about ready to go off to take the motorcycle for a ride to jump a cliff. Energy pumped like crazy on the inside, but on the outside the tough muscular body looked relaxed and calmed almost as if this drinking establishment was a place of Zen. Looking over at Jac, a twinkle in those orbs in his skull, a mischievous grin replaced the one of cockiness. ”I think I might be able to help out with that.” Massive hands began pawing through the jacket until he pulled out the flask he had pulled out earlier to use on himself. The crimson liquid wasn’t human, never was it human, but a simple combination of animals that had been bled for his feast. Troy swiftly moved the container through the air out to her, allowing the distance so his fingers would end up briskly touching her flesh. Nobody ever said that he was a good, good guy. She still looked like fun.

Jac Roberst - August 3, 2007 09:15 PM (GMT)

”Thief? Moi? Oh, no, I’m not professional, I just do it for fun,”

"Dont we all."

”Well, lets see, if you were a villain in a comic book, all in spandex and revealing clothes…let me think about that first. I believe it’d be something like…Black Widow perhaps?”

"I could kill that fucking marvel guy. He stole my name."

"I had auburn hair back in that day.. what was I thinking?!"

"Anyway I was named after the spider not the super heroe thing.."

”I think I might be able to help out with that.”

"Bye bye blood."

"Come on babe we're going hunting!"

Troy Bradley White - August 4, 2007 05:59 PM (GMT)

Well, her statement had him in bet a rock and a hard place there. It was actually quite factual. Most thieves anymore just did it for their sick little jollies afterward. It wasn’t always about the money, it was just a nice little perk afterward that left them in a state of minor luxury rather it was in their mansions by the seaside somewhere by the Mediterranean or some modified apartment some where in the metropolitan area in France. For Troy, he didn’t really quite rob for the money. He’d do hard hires for easy, quick cash. He liked the challenge of it all, so his theory was if he had just enough for a couple of weeks, then it would keep him inspired to steal. Then again, he did have a Swiss bank account that help only a million or so that was stashed away for some sort of emergency. Whatever emergency required a million dollars he wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. At least he had something to fall back on for…what? He could literally survive almost anything. He didn’t have to worry about retirement because he’d never reach that age, at least physically and customarily. He’d reach the age, but not like a human. Oh well, that didn’t matter since he was still a newb in the coven and had many years to live. Half of the vampires he knew were over the age of a hundred. Damn. That age had always scared him, but not anymore.

A slow, deep thunder came out of his throat as a chuckle to what she was saying. With another drink, his eyes passed over her and then back in front of him. ”I’m certain that Stan Lee didn’t steal your name, just the name of a spider.” It sounded almost self-obsessive the way he heard it. God forbid there be something out there that had her name, even if it were just a bunch of harmless drawings even though Jac got her name from something else. In all actuality, she seemed a whole lot closer to a villain than a super hero, but that was just his opinion that didn’t need expressed. Yeah, he might have been a little bit pissed off if there was something much like his own personal self rolling in and out of the pages of a comic book, but all the more reason to not give himself a stupid name. Hers fit her, but nothing would ever make Troy completely happy with the way it sounded. Besides, creativity wasn’t really his thing. What name could he possibly have? Biker dude? The American-Fox? Nothing sounded good. It wasn’t like the media gave him a name and the new employers only found out a telephone number passed onto other people. He was more a free lancer though, working for himself to claim the money on the piece. Lots of times the employers paid enough so that was just dandy for him.

Watching as she poured out the blood that wasn’t really hard to get, he saw her in a whole new light. She was one of those. Being pissed over that little spilt blood should have happened, but it didn’t, it rolled over his big, muscular shoulders. The owner would be more pissed then not since it was a real bitch to get bloodstains out of the floor. Perhaps he should be looking at ‘the Black Widow’ with more respect since she willingly killed people just for her own life. It only demoralized any respect he had for her at all. He was almost sickened with the thought of this. When she tugged at his arm, almost like a child, he pulled his arm away. They were both vampires and he was equally as strong as her, if not stronger. Besides, Troy wasn’t one to let some filthy murderer to lead him anywhere. Maybe had she hadn’t exposed her distaste, he might have been following her out, but only in hopes of something else, which sure as hell wasn’t blood. ”No, thanks.” He looked at her with disdain as his eyes scooted back to look at whatever was in front of him at that time. Let her go, he didn’t need her.

Jac Roberst - August 4, 2007 06:58 PM (GMT)

”No, thanks.”

"No thanks?"

"Your a vampire for fucksake!"

"It's disgusting, you denying who you are."

"Drink up."

easily

Troy Bradley White - August 4, 2007 08:38 PM (GMT)

Her outburst was easily ignorable. Pretty much everybody knew that was what he was already. They cared, slightly, but that was only because they feared their life. She had managed to draw more attention to herself. More and more she seemed like an attention whore. Hell, maybe besides being a thief, she was a whore on the side. Eh, too probable. It was just about likely to happen, especially in France. People looked, and then turned away, not wanting to get involved with what was happening. He couldn’t really blame them at all. If he were in the same situation as a human, he’d get the fuck out of there; and if this were to happen to any wolf or bat around him, he’d just lay back and watch the show, not daring to get involved between two vampires unless wanting to get into a brawl. All of them were just there to drink…alcohol, no blood unless they brought it themselves, and to just unwind from the long, strenuous day that was their lives. So many of the humans that passed in and out like a random breeze had families and things to live for, just like rest of the humans in the world. He would not bring himself to ruin what they had worked so hard for.

With an almost superior look on his face, his now cold eyes turned to her, fangs poised out in a sneer. So what if he drank blood? He didn’t give a damn if she looked down at him because he was looking down at her right now, both metaphorically and literally. ”I don’t deny shit. And what’s disgusting and right down pathetic is you thinking that you got the right to go around killing anybody you damn well please.” In truth, he’d be able to drink the blood of the human, but nothing that brought death. Taking blood from a blood bank, sure, but running up behind somebody to snap their neck and have a drink…no? Psychologically it had something to do with the fact his family was still alive and it was kind of worrying thinking somebody coming after them like that. Anytime he’d kill a person the images of mother, brother, sister, and father would haunt him. Plus, Troy was still new to this and compassion was held deep within him. Killing other people for his own survival was just down right selfish. He’d rather somebody chop off the handsome head of his before ever having to do such a thing. His parents taught him well enough to know better then to ever think that and never, ever would he want to be such filth as those sick fucks that ate humans.

Before even being able to realize what this pathetic excuse as a woman was doing, a man laid limp in her hands. Sympathy poured from the heart in his chest. His family, all that he had worked for, was gone in a single instance because this psychotic vampire just wanted to prove some point. The way Jac practically demanded that he drink from this pour soul just sent him over the top with rage. Getting off the barstool in quite a gusto, the animal-drinker grabbed it with one big hand to end up smashing it against the bar, getting quite some attention too. ”Go screw yourself.” His voice was harsh when this was said. Troy wasn’t tempted by the smell of the blood mainly for that fact that it had been in the drink all along. It was a good way from stopping such a thirst with humans. Digging out the leather wallet, he tossed a hundred dollar bill to the bartender who caught it. This would do more than enough for the damage and his drink. Looking at her again, wanting to snap her neck himself, the vampire turned around and left the bar, heading for the motorcycle.

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