We Can Always Plot More If You Like! - Blog Posts
Her father had acquired this place years ago, the perfect hunting ground for his experiments. Full of unsuspecting participants already willing to offer themselves up to a vampire without a fight. Though those who became a part of his studies certainly became less willing once they realised what was growing inside them. When they eyed the hybrid as she moved through the club few of them understood they were looking at a version of the demigod her father intended to replace humanity with.
The lawyer now sniffing around the club had been getting too close for Joham's liking, too close to uncovering the missing woman who had frequented the place. Her body lay in the incinerator at his lab, another failed experiment. Another woman who had looked at Serena in fear and confusion as her body gave out just as her mother's had over a century ago. This one had called Serena a "cold little bitch", which the hybrid supposed was partly true. Her responses to this kind of thing had become cold, methodical almost. She could no longer afford to grow attached to humans, she had learnt that long ago. Especially not ones who met their fate at the hands of her father. The disappointment if he saw her show any emotion toward them was enough to paralyse any emotion out of her.
Though perhaps not enough. She clutches the pendant she'd slipped off the woman's body before her father had gotten to her, turning it over in her fingers inside the pocket of her jacket. It wasn't unusual for her to keep a token, something to remind herself. Of what exactly....she wasn't sure. A fleeting impulse has her wanting to hand it over to the lawyer perched uncomfortably in his booth as she approaches. Evidence for his case. But she resists, keeping it firmly pocketed. Perhaps it was a test, her father did like to do that. Even though he had no way of knowing what she held, he was always testing her anyway. She had to remain strong, loyal. His dutiful eldest.
Slipping into the booth opposite him, Serena eyes the vampire with a curiousity. The ones still play pretending human fascinated her, a reminder of a distant time when she'd also been fool enough to try such things. Crimson lips turn into a small smirk at his reaction to the drink. Such an odd thing, so out of place with his nature. "Jacob, wasn't it?" The hybrid leans in closer, browns intently locked on his. "I heard you've been asking questions about my family's club. I'm sure you understand that the privacy of our patrons is something we take very seriously. So I trust you have a good reason for asking them?"
open to: m/f/anyone plot: Jacob is a lawyer working a case for someone & is meeting someone in a club for vampires getting vital information to win his case & help his client. hmu if you’d like to plot more! connection: worker or owner of the club, another vampire or supernatural, old client he helped in the past, a regular informant. either way the person he’s meeting for info.
Jacob didn’t make it a habit of coming to places like this, blood clubs, places where his kind could feed freely from willing participants. The scent of blood was thick in the air, at least, to him, but he never had quite gotten over the humanity in him, even after all these centuries. It was dim lit and gothic, a stereotype if anyone asked him but it wasn’t like he had much to go on. He wasn’t exactly a social vampire, least of all with his own kind. Music pulsed to drown out the noises of talk, laughter, and pleasure. Over on the dance floor, a good distance from Jacob was, masses of bodies writhed together in dance and sensuality. It flowed through the place, clung just as heavy in the air as the scent of blood and sex. This was a dark place intended for dark pleasures. Certainly somewhere Jacob would never frequent but he was no stranger to such places, he had indulged in his carnal desires before.
Jake shifted in his seat at a booth tucked in a corner as far away from everyone else as possible. He’d been holding his breath, not that he needed to fill his lungs with oxygen anymore anyway, it helped with the overwhelming scents if he didn’t inhale them. There was a glass in front of him, watered down from the melting ice, and he rotated the glass in place absently as his dark eyes slowly scanned every dark crevice and face he could see. Searching impatiently. He didn’t want to be here. It was clear in the rigid way he sat, decades of etiquette training from a mother that always felt appearances were everything. Jacob was uncomfortable but he was there for a reason and if the tip was correct, this was important information he needed to progress in his case. Not only in court but in helping the family as well.
His senses flared with the warning of someone approaching and Jacob snapped his gaze over to whomever it was, his face was void of anything other than mild tension. Clearing his throat Jake took a gulp of his drink, the watered down substance doing little to hide the strength of the liquor and blood inside. He almost grimaced but swallowed quickly, setting the drink back down and stirring it with the tiny straw. There was a sharpness to his gaze as he watched the other, a shine to them not quite natural but nothing like the glowing eyes scattered among the other bodies around the club. Jacob was watchful, wary, intrigued but certainly just wanted to get what he was there for and get the hell out.