Starring:
=Summary
A vampire and a werewolf try to gather information on each other, unknowingly.
Date It Happened: December 26th, 2008
Fishing in the Dark
The Silver and Gold, Chinatown
The lights pulse and throb like the beating of a heart. One second the place is pitch-black, aside from some glow in the dark decorations, and those cheesy glow-sticks some teenagers have - the next painfully bright lights of various colors are shining down at randomn spots in the floor, lighting the place up with the colors of the rainbow. Meanwhile, loud music and a deep base on the speakers *thump* *thump* throughout the room; you can almost /feel/ it. Not the style of some…but pleasant for others.
One hungry vampi…err ordinary woman, Mariko - is standing at one of the high, trendy metal tables, glancing out at the dancers. A scotch sits in front of her, seemingly half-empty. (The other half is, in truth, on the floor - but its so dark most probably won't notice the deception.)
She continues to stand there, alone, listening to the music and surveying the dancers with a critical eye.
The dimly lit dance club is the kind home to some questionable elements, perhaps why one man makes his entrance after a brief word with the lightweight oriental bouncer at the door. The pulsing lights are not welcome to his brown eyes, squinting under them to scower the crowd. He sniffs the air, two short quick inhales. Teenagers, lots of them, and they were all giving off the smell of lust like a cologne.
James moves slowly and cautiously through the groups of dancing people, probably the only dead serious face in the whole club.
Mariko is definately not giving off a smell of lust; she's here on business…or dinner, rather. Not that she'll admit that. While glancing about those dancing for a likely target, she notices the all too serious face of James. She takes a long minute to size him up as he walks through the dancing people, then does her best to catch his gaze and give him a Look, from afar.
Those searching brown eyes don't take long to rest upon Mariko; and when they are greeted in return James decides to make his way over. "Drinking alone?" He asks, in a harsh rough tone once he stands close enough to her table. From here the long scar is visible across his face. He looks briefly to the half empty scotch in question.
Mariko holds up the scotch. "I'm afraid so. Whats a city coming to?" she asks rhetorically. "You look a bit serious for a fun-loving place like this. One of the rules you know - gotta have fun. You should get a drink."
"I'm not much of a drinker." The man dismisses, pulling up one of the clubs tall stool/chairs without being invited. "Do you hang around this place a lot?" James asks, watching the woman from across the tiny table. There was something off about her that he couldn't place yet.
Mariko shrugs. "I've been around Chinatown most of my life. So I've been here before, but no - I don't come here often. I like to…spread my wings a bit, avoid any one place too much." She pauses. "So, what about you?"
"Just passing through." James returns cooly, his gaze glued to the woman. "Visiting some friends of mine." He adds, while reaching for a cigarette from his jacket pocket.
Mariko shakes the glass back and forth in her hand, listening to the overabundance of ice rattle around in it. "Ah, friends. Not in town on business then?" She nods at the dogtag. "You in the military on leave or something?"
James ignores the line of questions for a moment as he ignites his poison with a small lighter, a soft orange glow burning in the gaps between pulsing club rays. He sets the lighter down on the table. "If anything - they left me." He says finally, a cryptic response. "What's your name?"
Starting at the orange glow for a moment, Mariko replies, "Mary. At least, thats what my friends call me." She lets the military comment go unremarked on. "And whats your name, mysterious?"
"Jack." The man supplies, through a shrouding bubble of freshly exhaled smoke. "Jack Boss." He lies, leaning forward ever so slightly. "So, St. Mary. What's your idea of fun?"
Mariko laughs. "Saint Mary? Usually its 'Mary Mary Quite Contrary'" she says, laughing. "Well Jack…I like trouble. Not one for being bored, myself. Always got along with cats. What about you? You don't strike me as much of a cat person, for some reason."
"I've never liked the superstition that follows them." 'Jack' supplies, his lips pulling in a tiny smirk. "The cat has a long history of being a witches best friend." He catches the stink of something under the table. Spilled scotch.
Mariko laughs. "Witches?" She laughs some more. "Come now, you don't really believe in witches, do you? Next you'll be telling me you believe in werewolves and vampires and…" She pauses, "Elvis."
For what seems like a long moment James' remains completely serious. Finally, he smiles, a little wryly - like he had just caught the joke. "The king is dead." He confesses, glancing away to the dance floor briefly. "Why don't I buy you a drink?"
Mariko smiles. "Certainly. As long as you have one too. A girl doesn't like to drink alone." She glances over at the dance floor as well. "Then why don't we dance a round?"
"Scotch on the rocks?" Mr.Boss feigns at asking, already knowing the answer. He rises slowly from the table, retrieving his lighter to its rightful place in his jacket pocket. His cigarrette burns in his mouth as he gestures with a tilt of his head toward the bar. Maybe they would relocate.
Mariko winks. "I'm not sure. Not a big fan but…for you, this time, I'll take it." She stands up, grabbing her glass, and follows behind Mr. Boss.
James regrets his choice as soon as they enter the din that is the dance floor, a necessary detour to make it to the bar. His senses are immedietly overwhelmed by the sweaty writhing bodies that groove around them to some obscure high beat music the ex-soldier was not familiar with. He looks back once amidst the floor, a pause to make sure Mary is still following.
Mariko is still following, not bothered by the writhing bodies, the (occasional) darkness, or the fierce beat of the music. She slides through the dancers, with an ocasional gentle push to move one out of the way, with the practiced movements of someone whose done it many times before.
As 'Jack' approaches the bar with Mary in tow just as the bartender swoops in from his last customer to greet them with an expecting ear. "Scotch on the rocks." The first can be seen mouthing, most conversation blocked out by music. Then he holds up two fingers - for two. The bartender retreats a short while away to prepare the order.
Mariko stands by Jack, glancing at the bartender, then turning her gaze to him. "So, thats an impressive scar." she says. "You look too young for the Gulf. How'd you get it?"
What's left of his cigarrette is mushed into ash into a nearby tray. James turns to Mariko with a frown. Or maybe that was just his regular expression. "Hunting accident." He explains, briefly.
He was trying to place something that had been bothering him since he'd approached Mary. Everything else reeked around here, except for her. "I don't like to talk about it." He finishes, as their drinks are set down before them.
Mariko nods her head, then picks up her glass, holding it towards him. With a light sniff in his direction, she smiles. "Well then. A toast. To new friends, perhaps?" And then she downs the drink with a foul look on her face. "Oh, never really liked the stuff, to be honest. Terrible, awful taste."
James takes his glass after the impressive display, only taking one gulp from his before setting it down onto the bar counter. "Agreed." He… agrees. "What would you say to a dance?"
Mariko is still grimacing from the taste. "Really hate that stuff." she repeats, before standing up and away from the bar. "Sure. Lead on."
James nods once more. No taste for alcohol, no body odour. There was one more thing he needed to be sure of. He leads out onto the pulsing dance floor before finally finding a spot in the middle of the din and turning back to Mariko, managing some groove and bob in his body. He hadn't danced in a while, and the last time he did he wasn't very good at it either.
Mariko dances and grooves, shaking her hips back and forth while pumping her head up and down to the beat of the music. After a minute or two of that, and seeing that James' isn't dancing as strongly, she tones it down a bit however. She gives another sniff in his direction, hoping to learn a bit more about him from the smell…like his blood type, perhaps.
"Are you a superstitious person, Mary?" 'Jack' wonders outloud, as he dances. He pats the ciggarette box in his right chest pocket, then as if finding nothing, moves his right hand behind his back - under his jacket. Or maybe his back pocket.
Mariko gyrates back and forth with the beat. "Not really. In Chinatown however, they have a few the old-timers still practice." she says, still dancing. "They hide mirrors near funerals. They think its bad luck to have a mirror near a coffin. And the children of the deceased don't cut there toenails for 49 days. Of course, almost noone does that anymore. In Japan, they consider it bad luck to shove chopsticks directly into rice. Invites bad spirits."
"What would you know about those." James asks, rhetorically. He was about to find out. From behind his back comes a hand carved thin wooden cross, of glossy brown texture. He thrusts it forward at her, attempting to touch Mariko. Just a touch would be enough to tell.
Mariko takes a step back from the cross, not letting it touch her. She glances from between the cross and James. She doesn't seem to be bursting into flames. "What are you doing?" she asks. "Your not one of those evangelicals, are you? Come to tell the teenagers how bad they are for dancing?"
James doesn't back down from his assumption just yet. He keeps the cross leveled like a pistol, shuffling forward closer, another try. His face is hard and determined.
Mariko takes a step towards James, mentally wishing she was wearing an outfit with /pockets/. "Listen dude. I'm not a Christain. I'm an athiest. Ever read the God Delusion? I don't want anything to do with a bible thumper, you hear me?"
Still darting out of the way of the cross, she adds, "And quit being freaky!" She glances towards a far side of the bar. "Oh, good. Its Dan." She heads off into the crowd. Of course, she's expecting James will try and follow, but she's making a good effort to try and put people between her.
As Mary enters the crowd, James does as she suspects and follows. The cross lowers to his side, as to not draw anymore attention than he already had. The problem was following a void scent within a pool of other scents. He leans towards his military training and follows, occassionally shoving people or darting inbetween gaps to gain speed.
Mariko chuckles to herself. She's probably one of the most paranoid vampires you'll ever meet - and she's spent a long time making a study of how all sorts of people react to feeding situations; she's much more careful then most vampires. She slides through the crowd like an eel through water and heads out the back door, into the alley.
Eyes like a hawk, scanning the alley for clues, James finds his back against the wall of the rice shop. "Gone." He finally says as he pulls out a cigarrette with his free hand and lets it rest in his mouth.
Listening from atop the Silver and Gold, Mariko feels frustrated. He is not, apparently - taking the bait. She was hoping he'd either peer inside the dumpster, or try to climb up on the building. But he smells funny - he's not human, she's sure of that. And he carries a cross. She can't quite put her finger on the smell though.
Pausing a moment, she tries to decide if she should leap out at him, let him go, or wait and follow him.
The soft glow returns, with an exhale of smoke that coincides with a sigh. "Next time, Comrades." James promises to some invisible audience that doesn't have much to say back. He makes his way back towards the club door, flicking his poison away into a left over magazine. The image burns slightly.
Caution is the better part of valor, Mariko decides, as always. She's not quite sure what James' is, but she has a few ideas - and can take some precautions for the future. In the meantime, she'll have to watch out for his 'friends'. Sniffing towards the alleyway once last time, she stalks off across the roof.
