milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

He was out flying around the little village he had move to recently. He was bored, and wanted to do some hunting, but due to his fear of pitchfork and torch wielding peasants, he hadn't fed in weeks. There was the synthetic blood the Bar provided, but it wasn't quite right. He wheeled in the moonlight, it always helped him feel better to fly. Suddenly, the scenery changed, and the sun was out. This was really bad as his skin began to smoke and burn. He dived towards the building in the middle of the field below him. He landed changed from bat to man and burst through the back door into the Bar.

Standing in the bar, he did his best to pat out his burning body parts.

"Fucking hell!" he said wondering if he should be tearing off his clothing, "What the flaming torches is going on?"

Have a Count, also please feel free to try and extinguish the smoking vampire.

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Using her coat Amanda walks over and starts patting him down. Somehow she doesn't think now is the time to be concerned about personal boundaries.

"That's what I was inclined to ask you." she points out, "As you are the one on fire."

"It is the middle of the day," said The Count turning on his charm for the beautiful lady helping him, "My kind do not get along with the sun. Thank you lady."

He of course had picked up her hand and was kissing it like he had learned to do as a boy.

"Vampire?" she asks inquisitively, pretty certain of the answer. Her expression and body language shows no fear or distrust, just curiosity.

She gives him a kind smile and accepts the kiss as if she is used to such behavior.

"Why yes," he said still surprised that so many people here had no problem with his being a vampire, "I guess the Bar decided to catch me during my night flight... only it was very sunny here."

Different sun, same result.

He nearly bounced his lanky form over to a near table still holding her hand. He then pulled a chair out and indicated that she take a seat.

"Milliway's and time are strange bedfellows." she can see how that would be inconvenient, "I'm just glad you were able to make it in before you were dust."

Amanda grabs her jacket and takes the offered seat. "I'm Amanda" she offers.

He may or may not have noticed the sword sheathed in the jacket.

"Why yes," he said as he lead her to a table, "Seems the Bar caught me mid night flight. It just happened to be sunny here. Different sun same result."

He pulled out a chair at the table for her.

When she sits she crosses her legs exposing her dark blue jeans. Her bright red blouse reflects off her brown eyes.

"And what should I call you?" because he never responded.

"You can call me Count," he said, "What is your name?"

He was, of course, wearing a pair of black on black brocade pants, black boots, a black button up shirt tucked into the pants, a large bat shaped belt buckle, and a black leather cape lined in red satin. Some of these clothes were damaged from his run in with the sun. His hair was long, dark, and was pulled back into a ponytail that revealed his old fashioned sideburns.

"Nice to meet you Count. I'm Amanda."

She looks him up and down taking in his attire and trying to identify his origin though it can be difficult if he is from a different world. "Your style is a bit old fashioned but I would guess you are from Earth, early 21st century. I mean it could be later than that but that is as far as I have gotten myself."

"Would you care for something to drink?" she waves over a waitrat.

"I would love a bottle of vintage blood, but I will take some of the synthetic stuff the Bar has," he said, "And yes, I am from around 2006, what year are you from?"

He, for some reason, hadn't contemplated people from different times, even though two of the first people he met were from the fall of the Roman Empire and Shakespearean times.

"I'm from 2015." she offers. "I think some vintage blood could be arranged." offering a mischievous grin. When the rat arrives she requests one empty wine glass and one with red wine.

"And other than flying around at night, what do you do with yourself in 2006?"

"I take care of my children," he said with a grin as he guessed her intent, "You do smell different from most other breath.. I mean humans."

Amanda laughs, "Why thank you ... I think." tilting her head, "Breath? that's an interesting term. But I suppose it makes sense."

She can imagine what he means by children. "Do they give you much trouble? Your children."

"My son and heir wants to be anything but a vampire," explained the Count, "He even goes to a breather school, and wants to play a sport. Vampires don't play sports."

His voice was almost a whine.

"My daughter is a daughter and very much like her mother," he shuddered at the thought of Magda.

He moved close to Amanda, "Now, tell me by what you mean by vintage. You can't be more than 25. Of course I have a very hard time telling human ages any more."

"I'd imagine playing sports as a vampire would give him an advantage. Presuming you have supernatural strength." she loves cheating.

"How sweat." she chuckles as she was 30 when she first died. "What is your favorite vintage?"

"17th century French Aristocrat," he said, "He is still young. He doesn't have any powers yet, he still breaths. Now, if he weren't such a goody two shoes. He is insists on following the rules."

"Well I am French. Though in the 17th century I didn't spend anytime in France. Though had I known what was coming to France in the 18th century I may have visited sooner."

"Rules" she rolls her eyes, "Overrated."

Now curious, "How does that work? How do you have a son and daughter who aren't vampires?"

He smiled at her and leaned in close, "Oh well, the usual way, I guess, though they won't reach their full vampire power till they turn sixteen."

He sat back in his chair suddenly, "How old are you?"

He knows it isn't polite, but she was making some very interesting statements.

"I mean how can a Vampire procreate? Most immortals don't have that ability." she is a bit fascinated.

"I'm circa the 9th century BC." she'll let him do the math. The waitrat arrives with the glasses. "I assume you do not take issue with my vintage?"

"No," He said happily, "I must say, you are a few centuries older than I."

Then he leaned closer and spoke in her ear, "We procreate in the usual way.... You know."

She takes out a dagger from her boot, places her hand over the glass and then carefully slits her wrist. It doesn't take long for there to be a small amount of lightening on the wound as it closes. Then she offers him the glass.

"I have no doubt that you have sex or are capable of having sex. But having sex and being able to reproduce are two different things."

"Well, sex sometimes has consequences," said The Count, "I happen to have two of them."

He picked up the glass and took in the nose of the blood then sipped it, "Not bad at all. Your blood has a somewhat effervescent quality and it has the sleight scent of ozone."

He leaned close again, "What are you?"

Yes he was taking in her scent.

She lets him take in her scent as she takes a sip of her wine.

"I'm an immortal. Unique in the uniqueness of my ability." in Milliways she has met immortals that were vampires, gods, and aliens but no one else is just immortal.

"I wonder what would happen if I were to bite you," he purred purred in her ear.

"You are welcome to find out." she leans in "Just not in the Bar." she doubts that it would be allowed. Setting down her drink, "Another time perhaps?"

The Count sat back in his chair with a little huff, "What is it with the rules here? It's no fun!"

He sipped again at his glass, "This is quite delicious. Could I tempt you to fill a bottle?"

"Yes, rules can be quite tedious. But Milliways is not the place to break the rules." she leans in, "have you seen the cells?" she has and has no interest in a prolonged stay.

"If you like. What size bottle?"

"No, not yet," he said, "But I don't know how long I can keep all of the rules."

He smiled wolfishly.

"A pint would suffice," he said, "I'd put it aside in the blood cellar."

"If I can do it anyone can. And the rules pretty much only apply within the bar itself. They don't extend to the rooms upstairs or outside. Though I would be careful about what type of violence or nudity you engage in outside." she smirks, "Well maybe not."

"Very well." she calls a waitrat over and asks for a bottle that can hold a pint.

The Count's smile widened, "And if some of the indiscretions can be in the company of a beautiful lady...?

"All the better indeed." her eyes gleam with mischief. Nothing like friendly flirting.

When the pint sized bottle arrives she places it in her bag. "I'll drop off the filed bottle at the bar for you later." she isn't going to do a large blood draw right now.

"You are too kind," he said with a purr, "Now, tell me what is it that you do?"

"Currently?" she gives a grin mixed with mischievousness and amusement. "I own and run a nightclub in Los Angeles." She has had a lot of time to fill.

"How about yourself? Other than raising your children." Even Amanda is still having a difficult time wrapping her head around a vampire that can reproduce.

"Not much," said The Count, "Though, I do find Television rather interesting."

"What do you like to watch on Television?"

"Whatever is on," said the Count, "It is quite boring."

"Then why don't you do something more entertaining?" she doesn't see why anyone should be bored.

"I can think of a few things that are much more entertaining," he purred.

(OOC: Oh God now what?)

Her voice drops to a low seductive purr, "As can I" she stands up and gives him a kiss on each of his cheeks stopping to whisper in his ear, "Now I am off to find some."

She stands and walks to the front door.

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