Oh, the nerve! [Liander]

[Anouk Gallant]

Anouk may very well have loathed drunkards, but that didn’t mean much. When she was sober and they chose to annoy her with their clamorous behaviour and their intent to cross the border of her personal bubble—that was when she loathed drunkards.

But when a person chooses to get drunk, and become a drunkard, clamorous behaviour and closeness became the norm. It was something both parties participated in, and it could be reveled.

Not that Anouk had entered the pub with the intent of getting drunk. So far, she was well able to hold her alcohol; thus far, she’d only had a few drinks and was only slightly tipsy. It was a sad state of affairs that she should have gotten so far without a drinking partner.
And there was no real reason why Anouk felt the need to consume alcohol tonight instead of blood. In the far reaches of her mind she wondered whether later she should combine the two—find several humans who were completely and thoroughly drunk and consume their blood. Would that have the same effect as drinking alcohol straight up, or would it be diluted some? It was an experiment she was more than willing to participate in.

The truth was, tonight had been a night of solitude. It was rare that Anouk ever found herself alone, and it left her to her own thoughts and musings. And, because she had the time and energy to reflect on her own state of being, she suddenly realised that she really did feel alone. It confused her for a moment, until she realised there was a very familiar bond missing.

It was like suddenly realising she was no longer in love with a person whom she’d grown accustomed to loving for a long period of time. There’s no longer a reason to keep two people together if they’re no longer in love.

This was more physical, however. It was a material bond which she’d grown accustomed to, and it was suddenly gone. She could no longer feel the link she had between herself and Ian. The man had done something to sever that bond. Maybe he was dead? Anouk had no way of knowing.

She didn’t know when the bond had disappeared. Really, it can’t have bothered her all that much. She'd always been a fast learner and soon enough she'd stopped going to Ian for help. She'd stopped needing him. In reality, she didn't feel that she needed a sire to guide her anyway. She'd always been a lone wolf by nature, and she'd not be told what she could and could not do. But now that she’d realised he'd severed her from him for no particular rhyme or reason, she felt the need to complain about it. Assuming Ian was still alive, what right did he have to go ahead with such a thing without consulting Anouk first? She felt she ought to have had some say in the matter. She wanted to go hit him over the head and ask him what his problem was.

In fact, she’d resolved to do just that, but she’d been distracted by the lure of alcohol. It was bleeding into her system and she could feel herself dwelling on things which shouldn’t worry her, and she was only making herself angrier.

With a frustrated growl she realised her glass was empty. She turned to the bar and hailed the barkeep, slamming the empty glass down onto the bar top as an indication that she’d like a refill.

[Liander]

The moment Liander stepped through the doors, it was apparent he was riding some sort of high. He stumbled to the bar, barely able to keep his balance before nearly collapsing into a seat. He'd been feeding tonight, and not from his normal supply.

No, tonight he'd taken the opportunity to feed off a group of teenagers huddled in the back of a large van and smoking out of questionable paraphernalia. Their intoxicated blood had flowed through his system quickly and easily, distorting most of his senses.

The human bartender wandered over to him, eyeing the man cautiously for any sign of danger. "Something I can get you?" He asked, his tone wary. Liander smirked at the man, fangs glinting in the light that hung above the bar. "I need a Devil's Advocate." The bartender nodded before slipping away to mix the drink - Half blood, half holy water.

When he brought it back, Liander slapped a wad of bills onto the counter. "Keep it flowing." The man nodded silently before slipping away to tend to other customers. Lifting the poisonous drink to his lips, he downed the glass in a single gulp, slamming it hard onto the counter when he was finished. A raspy growl echoed out of his throat as the liquid ran through him, burning his throat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Liander noticed a young pyre sitting by herself, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. A quick Second Sight told him that her name was Anouk, and that she had no sire. From the look on her face, that was a recent development. He'd been severed from enough sires to know what it felt and looked like.

Sliding over to the seat next to her, he flashed her a knowing smile. "Wanna talk about it?"

[Anouk Gallant]

The barkeep gave Anouk a ‘you’ll have to wait’ look before gliding toward another customer; one who had admittedly got there just before Anouk had hailed the tender for herself—but technically, she’d been there first. It kind of irritated Anouk when it shouldn’t have. But the small things bothered her more than they should.

She shook her head and sighed heavily, watching the tender as she waited for him to return. The customer he went to serve was another vampire, which piqued Anouk’s interest at least a little. What made her even more interested was this pire’s choice of beverage. Blood and holy water? That had to burn, like a sonofabitch.

It was only after the tender had taken the money, that he returned to Anouk, grabbing the bottle of vodka on his way over. He had the bottle tipped and ready to pour before Anouk held up her hand to halt his progress. ”Wait, I changed my mind. I’ll have what he’s having.” She said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the vampire he’d only just served. The tender stared at her for a few moments before shrugging his shoulders and sauntering off to get her drink.

It was only then she noticed that the ‘he’ she’d pointed at had sidled closer to her, and was speaking to her.

She turned sharply to face him, narrowing her eyes as if she expected foul play. She, too, second sighted the guy…she found out his name was Liander and that, unlike her, he had a sire. Besides which, he looked far too happy to give a damn about her woes.

But what the hell. She needed to vent.

”You know, I never knew a person could be considered an object…so easily discarded.” She began, and then felt the need to explain herself. “You know, fair enough if he’d wanted to discuss it. At least then I might feel as if I’d been carefully pushed aside or… or sold on e-bay. But no… I may as well have just been thrown out with the trash.” She ranted, her eyes wide in the kind of mad look people got when they were on verge of making no sense at all.

The tender then returned with her drink, and Anouk, in her desperation to put out the fire of her anger, forgot what she’d ordered. She took the glass in hand and downed it in one gulp, only to almost fall backward off her stool as the glass clattered to the floor (miraculously not breaking) and Anouk’s hands flew straight for her throat, which felt as if it were being consumed by flames.

[Liander]

Liander raised a single eyebrow as she talked. He too, had been tossed out like trash by multiple sires, but never once had he not been given an explanation for it. Unfortunately, that was the way of some of those in the city. Her sire, whoever it was, had probably decided he had more important things to do than train someone. It was a pity, really. So young and obviously full of potential, she could grow to be a powerful denizen of the city.

Then her drink came, and he knew what would come next. The girl was young, and not yet fully powered. She wouldn't be able to handle it. Not many could. In truth, it was an... acquired taste. He'd seen his brother, Kaio, drink it once and had been slowly developing a taste for it ever since. The key was to make sure you had enough blood flowing through you for the holy water to have a minimal effect.

Sighing as she grasped her throat, Liander reached down to retrieve her glass and set it back on the counter. He turned to the bartender. "Get this girl a pint of blood." And the human actually had the balls to say, "That'll be 100 coins." Liander growled, baring his fangs as he rose to his feet. "It'll be free, or I'll drain it from you."

At the words, the elderly man reached under the bar, coming back up with a crossbow which he held point blank in the vampire's face. No doubt it was laced with garlic or holy water, as was the weapon of choice for most hunters. Liander rolled his eyes before leaping over the counter, his reflexes too quick for the human to get off a shot before he ripped the crossbow from his hands and tossed it aside, shortly before snapping the man's neck.

The bar froze for a split second as the event unfolded, but quickly returned to it's normal hustle and bustle. Being a bartender in this city was a dangerous occupation, especially for a human. It wasn't uncommon for them to die on the job. Liander picked the corpse up and flung it on the counter, his voice carefully commanding as he spoke to the girl. "Drain him. You'll feel better."

[Anouk Gallant]

Really, it was a wonder how the guy could handle such a drink. Anouk thought she’d be able to handle it if she could—she wasn’t that far away from being fully powered. It was only now that she realised every little thing counted. Maybe there was some invisible force field which suddenly appeared as soon as a person gained that last power. Was there something she was missing?

Whatever the case, it felt as if tiny little blisters were bursting open down the length of her throat, all the way down into her digestive system. Sure, she could see how some people might like this. It was a bit sadistic…but everyone had their own quirks, right?

Her slender fingers massaged the outside of her throat, as if that might help the inside. It didn’t help at all. The pain wasn’t unbearable, it was just unpleasant—she realised she couldn’t quite breath, that the mechanics of her throat had been damaged and her windpipe wasn’t working quite like it should. But she soon after realised that she didn’t need to breathe so it didn’t matter.

So instead, while she struggled to keep the pain under her control, she watched Liander as he dealt with the bartender. Anouk would have been quite happy to pay the 100 coins, but her ‘savior’ didn’t seem to think it was appropriate. The poor bartender. He was only trying to run a business.

Anouk felt herself cringing away from the crossbow, but the bartender was disarmed and dead before she had the chance to react.

She didn’t have to be commanded to drain the guy. It was her first instinct to do it anyway. The creature inside of her screamed for blood, and she was quite happy to drain it from the conveniently dead human. She set upon the corpse, fingers clutching at the tender’s stained shirt as her sharpened canines sunk easily into the soft flesh of his neck. It wasn’t the most savoury meal she’d ever had, but it immediately started to sooth the pain in her throat and she drank with relish. The blood was somewhat stale, and had already started to die. But it still did the trick.

Once she’d finished she pushed herself away from the corpse, licking her lips and sighing satisfactorily. Her bright, now near-emerald, eyes sought the man who’d helped her.

“How…who invented such an idiotic drink?” She queried; her throat still tingled slightly, but it was the familiar kind of burn that an ordinary shot of alcohol might produce.

[Liander]

He chuckled slightly, leaping over to the other side of the bar at her question. "No idea," he answered, even as he reached down for a bottle of bood and a vial of holy water, twirling them both gracefully in either hand before pouring himself another one. He'd spent time working as a bartender in the past, so until someone else came to take the dead man's spot, he'd have no problem with pouring his own drinks.

"It's a rather acquired taste. Even our elders have difficulty downing it." As if to show off, he downed the drink once again, tilting his head with a growl as it burned it's way through his system.

Raising his dark green irises back to hers, he canted his head to the side curiously. "So if you don't mind my asking, what are your plans now that you've been severed?" Truthfully, he was concerned. Did she have a place to sleep, or anyone to train her? Wayward childer with no place to go were an all to common occurence in the city, and it would be a pity to see another with such potential leave simply because they had no place to go.

[Anouk Gallant]

Anouk watched the stranger with an idle curiosity; the corner of her mouth twitched into an amused smile as he first told her that even some of their elders couldn’t handle the drink and then downing another one. Show pony, Anouk chanted in the forefront of her mind. But she didn’t care. Show ponies could be amusing. It was fun to dare them to do things and watch as they tried to prove their worth.

And of course the guy’s obvious good looks were not lost on Anouk. She was well able to appreciate his rugged features and she could definitely see why he had a reason to show off and get away with it. But looks weren’t enough to affect Anouk in any way. They’d not sway her one way or another.

The question he put to her was rather blunt, and was that concern that she could detect in his tone? How quaint.

She quirked a grin and sat up straighter in her stool. She hadn’t really thought about it. She’d been independent before, but now she could truly claim it.

“Who says I have to have plans?” She asked cheerily, eyes roving back to the various articles of alcohol behind the counter. It didn’t matter that she could now truly claim her independence. It wasn’t something that had bothered her before. She still felt miserable at being ditched so easily, as any normal person should. So although on the outside she looked happy enough, there was still a need to completely drown her sorrows.

“But now that you ask the question… I plan on getting drunk. I don’t do it often enough, and I need to … figure out again why I don’t like it.” There was a discarded bottle of vodka on the counter right near her—it hadn’t yet been put back in its proper place. Anouk reached over the counter, standing where she sat and arching forward, stretching neck and arm, to reach the bottle. As soon as she’s accomplished her mission, she retrieved the shot glass she’d dropped on the floor and poured herself a drink.

“Bottom’s up.” she muttered, before downing the drink in one go.