RP:In Bad Taste
Summary: Brennia tries to take a little time for herself on her travels when a vampire fledgling messes everything up.
Hanging Corpse Tavern
This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron chandelier suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place, and up the stairs are various rooms for rent. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.
Brennia figures there is no harm taking a little detour on her way home from and checking on the piano which she used to tinkle away on. Once she walks through the threshold, though? … well… this was a huge mistake. So many memories and most of them either foggy or just wrong come flooding back. Remembering how she was the taverns live-in bard who was in mourning, using herbs, wine and… people to numb her pain. Steadman and one of the barmaids look surprised to see her and maybe a little happy as she waves while looking a little nervous. Her wings rustle in unrest behind herself before she tucks them tightly to her sides and moved on to the piano. Melting down into the chair and caressing over the keys like a long lost lover, she smiles warmly before tucking her hair behind overly long tapered ears. The barmaid brings over her old favorite, blackfire wine, and this gives Brennia pause as her mouth salivates which causes her to swallow hard. “No thank you…” her smoky alto timbre declines before looking back at the beautiful ivory keys and beginning to play a song. A few things happen; the atmosphere in the tavern seems to change and the few patrons left in the establishment in such an hour are willingly entranced by the magic of the music for it does allow them to feel… if only for the duration of the song.
Elioyahazer isn't one for the dramatic flair. Especially not now that his evening had been spent fighting among Larewens enemies. If one were to look close enough, they'd spot a bit of blood on his hands, and a few splatters across his left cheek. Regardless of such subtle details, Elioyahazer is an odd looking man. Once cinnamon colored skin has gone pale since his turning. Oh sure, he's mildly attractive with those piercing mutated eyes - they are brown, with patches of blue; the mark of sectoral heterochromia. He's dressed in black, with his left arm completely covered in a mixture of leather and steel. An off looking bastard sword hangs from his hip by means of a leather baldric - the sword itself has a very odd, totem hanging from it. Carved with unknown runes, and, is it made from Xalious wood? It can't be, can it? Eventually he makes his way to the barkeep, get some blood wine and a towel to clean himself up with. Soon his attention is on the avian, playing piano. Interesting to see one here. By the end of the song, Eli claps once and throws some coin up on stage.
Brennia shifts a wing around herself as a shield to any potential pelts from coins. Who does that, even!? With a quirked brow, the caramel toned woman peeks solid teal hues over her wing at the guy before her smoky tone gently chided, “careful, but thank you.” She gently rubs circles around her temples where some of the tattoo which covers her whole body also marks her. Headaches… always coming on at the worst time. The six foot two woman stands from the piano and makes her way towards the bar which brings her close to the coin throwing man along with his favorite scent. “Water please, Steadman?” A warm smile curving up her full lips as the barkeep welcomes her back, “oh… that’s sweet, but I don’t think I’ll be staying tonight. Just dropped by to visit the love,” she gestures to the piano. With the headache, they awful memories, the way some vampires are looking at her like she’s dinner, the avian is feeling warm all over and pulls at the off the shoulder collar of her sweater outward a few times in attempts to cool down. She must have always been so drunk or altered on herbs to care of the vampires looked at her like this, that… and she used to like any beast with sharp teeth. If one were to look closely, they might see hints of scars mixed in with the tattoo pattern on her neck and shoulder area of; vampire teeth marks, lycan, maybe even dragon. All of which was probably just another unhealthy coping mechanism and she sees that now while gulping down the water.
Elioyahazer watches the avian as she exits the stage; clearly his mind was a little preoccupied. By that, he's staring at the revealed markings and yes, he's most definitely looking at her like dinner. The fledgling can't help that. Nearly shaking his head, Elioyahazer attempts to clear his mind. A single hand slides over to his bloodwine and take a sip, perhaps that would calm his overwhelming urge to feast from this poor avian? Then again… The desert born scoots closer. “Quite the talent you have there. Don't see bardic levels of skill like yours often.” He has no idea if this Avian is indeed a bard, he just assumed so.
Brennia shines that warm dimpled smile at the man who she can tell is looking at her like dinner and that’s when she regrets that she sent Thedez on ahead. Keeping her cool on the outside, though, is a talent of her’s, “thank you. Names Brennia,” she holds out her hand for a shake while hoping he won’t be one of -those- and try to kiss the back of her hand. Noticing the unique complexion of his skin, she mentions, “you’re not from Vailkrin, are you?” Figuring that if she keeps talking and asking questions, that his man might cling to whatever humanity is left within. “I would also hope the old Dean of a bard college might have -some- talent?” Regardless of the obvious sense of danger she knows she’s in, she still attempts kindness and friendship over fear and hatred. Sure this guy is somewhat reminding her of her toxic vampire ex boyfriend, but surely the avian must find some differences.
Elioyahazer does still have -some- humanity left, he's only a fledgling after all. However, the corrupted blood fed to him by Larewen is slowly rewriting his mind with slaughter. Most unfortunate. Truly. “Eli,” he extends a cold hand to clasp her own in greeting. “No I'm not originally from here. I'm more of uh…” his voice trails off while he fights with his own mind. You're in public Eli, fight those urges. “From the nameless deserts. Born and raised.” He quirked an eyebrow and leans back, just a little. He had heard rumors about the smell of Avians, but good God. His mind could only gather the scent of fresh, warm and delicious blood from her. Which is not helping his case. “The college of bardic arts?” No, Eli has not heard of this place, nor does he go slimeball and kiss her hand. “Never heard of it.” What a disappointing response right? “I apologise but such knowledge never reaches the deserts.”
Brennia lets a short raspy giggle bubble up, “well I would only expect you to hear of it if you are a bard yourself and....” her gaze trails the length of the man, “that doesn’t seem your speed.” Which is actually probably a compliment to the man, “you don’t really scream ‘spread the joy of music’ type… more ‘I’m kind of a badass’ type.” She crosses one long leg over the other and turns herself a little towards him since he doesn’t seem like a creep at the moment, “the desert, huh… so you weren’t born with tanned skin? It’s just from the elements?” Brennia obviously wasn’t born with the tattoos that start at her neck, but she was born with her dark complexion. In attempts to curb the vampires appetite, she pulls her hair forward so the chestnut tresses cascade over both sides of her neck at the tasty part.
Elioyahazer is having a difficult time keeping this facade up. On the inside he just wants to tear into this woman's pretty neck and gobble up everything that comes out. Though he's doing a very good job of not displaying such thoughts. He does offhandedly wonder if Larewen would be pissed if he decided on a public snack? Eli raises the glass to his mouth to wash more of the red fluid down. “It's a long story, but yes, tanned. Parents are originally from cenril. My mother, while pregnant refused my father's advice and set off for an archaeological dig in the nameless deserts. She was captured by the Dal’ra tribe. And here I am, years later.” He still can't get her scent of his mind. His eyes shift to the piano in the background. “Well, I have a certain appreciation for music. Not that I play anything.” No, but music does help to soothe the soul. If he had one. “But yes, I am more of the British type.” Brennia certainly doesn't want to run into him in a dark alley. “So what brings you all the way out here?”
Brennia feels her wings twitch slightly and subtle hues of dark greens mixed with navy blues are illuminated just right in the dim light of the tavern. “I’m sorry to hear that, Eli,” the name is short, but sounds unique on her the hint of her accent. “Yes… I’ve always felt that music can heal what medicine cannot,” she glances over her shoulder at the instrument which causes the tendon in the middle of her neck to exaggerate under her supple caramel skin. “Well. I actually used to stay in one of the rooms here so I could play the piano all I wished. That was until I had a home built with its very own grand piano.” She softly sighs after drinking some more of her boring water, “but my home has been trashed and my piano was one of the casualties.”
Elioyahazer frowns once. Brennia might believe that it's because he felt some sort of empathy towards her tale of a destroyed home and piano. When in actuality, it's because he can feel those fangs within his mouth again. This isn't good. “Shame such a thing happened.” His gaze moves to the piano once again, anything to get his mind off of this bard. He had become painfully aware of a heartbeat. He desperately wishes to know the rules about all of this. “I don't mean to be impolite.” Elioyahazer stands abruptly. “But I seem to be in a pickle. I'm a newly sired vampire and well, you smell intoxicating. I need to leave before I do something to you within this bar. “ At least he's being honest about the urges. “Pleasure to meet you.” Damnit, is he really going to let this warm meal escape? Yes. Yes he is. Elioyahazer turns on foot and begins to walk away. Stupid rules.
Brennia is surprised by the man’s honesty. “Not impolite at all, mister Eli. I have spent enough time here in Vailkrin to know the signs of a fledgling,” oh how she used to relish in their pain and alter how they felt with song. “Hey,” she stands being eye level with the stranger and gently grasps his forearm before he walks too far away. Her teal gaze sort of twinkles as she smiles at him, catching his gaze if his own isn’t locked on her neck, “just trust that this won’t last forever. You’ll be in control again before you know it. You got this,” with that she releases him and offers a friendly wave before sitting back at the piano. She will leave eventually, but she’s determined to play some more before she flies back home to Schezerade.
Elioyahazer || The last vestiges of Elioyahazers will, to not break any unspoken rule, completely collapsed the moment she made contact. The warmth he felt, the smell, that beating heart. Who is she kidding? Elioyahazer absolutely loves this feeling, the heightened senses. All of it. Instead of responding or even leaving, he stands there momentarily, looking around the tavern They were all friendlies. People of Vailkrin. He caves finally, activating a runic amulet he has tied around his neck. She certainly loved shows didn't she? Well fellow Vailkrin people, you are about to have a new one. The amulet mentioned before is magic, made to silence his footsteps. The ones that approach her as she plays the piano. Elioyahazer leans in giving into his desires - hands reaching out in an attempt to hold her in place. Suddenly his attack springs, arms work to wrap around her and his face moves in next to her ear from behind “I can't wait to taste you,” his voice is only a whisper. Not a single soul in this room would move to help her, instead, her ears might be filled with jeers and whistles.
Brennia has been there done that. Back in the day, she might have even pushed all her hair to one side and given the man a hug, but she doesn’t need to fill that void anymore and that’s when she heard it. ‘Let me help.’ The monotonous and sarcastic tone is all too welcome in her mind just when the man crushes her wings against her back and whispers to her ear. Keeping calm even though her heartbeat quickens, be it from fear or excitement is quite unclear. She gives a push with her wings, but she is not one to strike. her inky companion, Raven, on the other hand, “Eli… you don’t want to do this.” Her booted foot lifts and pushes off the piano so he’s forced against the wall where the curtain folds. The few watching try to crane their necks to see the show, but can’t get a good view anymore. She’s trying to pull her arms free from under the vampires grasp, but his bloodlust makes him too strong. All she can think up quickly is music. Notes laced with a spell, she starts to softly sing a lullaby in order to make the vampire drowsy, at peace and possibly even fall asleep.
Elioyahazer || Sing as much as she might, but he would do anything to keep this going. His eyes were glazed over with a special form of hunger and to prevent damage from that sleepy song, a hand simply moves to her throat - giving it a tight squeeze to cut off her air supply. Luckily for him, his strength is more than she can handle, and he smirks so devilishly. “ Oh but I do Brennia. I want this -badly-.” Once again his strength comes into play and he lifts her and turns, pressing her into the wall. Instantly the show is back on as lips attempt to teasingly caress her neck with hungry kisses. Is he warming that neck up? Is he attempting to savor the flavor? Yes to all of the above, Elioyahazers mouth opens, revealing those fangs. His bite, provided she doesn't get away from him, would not be something delightful or romantic. There is no euphoria. Nothing to keep her focus off of the pain.
Brennia struggles and squirms in Eli’s grasp and she feels the cool side of the wall as she’s forced up against it. Then the teeth… that familiar sensation of thrill and pain used to be the only thing that made her feel alive. Unexpectedly, she doesn’t scream and even for a minute she relaxes into the bite. An explosion of experiences probably hit Eli all at once. The exotic blood of an avian, sure, but something is powerfully decadent about her blood. Something old and royal hidden deep within and forgotten, abandoned, but nothing the vampire will ever taste again for she is the only avian in Lithrydel from the island Vere and the rightful heir to the empty throne there. Just as Eli might figure out if he really desires such blood, his mouth is suddenly filled with the taste of ink… By this time her wings became hard, like onyx stone and bristle up against the vampire. Surely he backs off, because ow! When she turns, he can see the tattoo ink dancing and swirling on her skin and the lack of expression on the woman’s face as she now steps into his space with threatening energy, “savor it, for that’s the last time you will ever taste it.” What was once a sweet and warm voice becomes cold, monotonous and sarcastic. A disgusted sneer curves her lush lips as her gaze drops to the man’s lips and her hand hand raises up to be placed on the man’s neck, but no pressure is applied - the intent is there and that’s all Inky needs, “you. Are. Nothing.” The ink that the man may or may not have ingested spills out of his mouth and returns back to the woman’s skin. With the added force from one best of her wings, the avian darts out of the tavern before taking to the skies. Was as Eli done!?
Elioyahazer doesn't bother to even give this thing a proper response. If it wanted a fight to the death, Elioyahazer was more than ready. Arms raise wide, his features twist into a sneer and he pressed into the creatures hand daring her to try. When she takes off he only mutters to her back. "I'll find you again." His fingers raise to touch his lips - recalling that beautiful flavor. Elioyahazer was hooked.