Post by christia isabelle aglionby on Jun 27, 2010 18:42:01 GMT -8
Music sounded in her ears, the bass so loud it felt like it was beating against her skin. The change was sudden; one minute she was outside in the peaceful night, and the next she was surrounded by people and loud music. Chris smiled as she made her way through the crowded club to sit at the bar. This was her scene. Not that she didn't like the peace and quiet of night, but she was a very exuberant person. The noise, the atmosphere, everything about a night club appealed to her. She loved how busy everything was, the dancing, the drunk people who didn't have a clue what was going on. Though there weren't very many drunks just yet; it was early. In a few hours there would be plenty stumbling around.
Chris sat down, crossing her legs so she didn't flash anyone; she was wearing a short jean skirt, so if she wasn't careful some lucky guy would get a peak of her black lace underwear. But she would be careful, only the ones she wanted to see would see anything. On her torso was a tight black corset, and on her feet were five inch black heels. She was only five feet, two inches tall, so she was in the habit of wearing tall shoes. People tended to think smaller individuals, especially girls, couldn't handle themselves. Chris could, she was good at fighting, and could use knives and guns. It was just easier if people didn't try anything in the first place.
The bartender ignored her; he knew she wouldn't want anything. Chris owned the club, and the staff knew what she was. At least, most of the staff knew. Though technically she could drink, if she wanted to. But she didn't, normal food no longer interested her. If she drank anything that night, it would not be the alcohol behind the counter, it would be the red hot liquid that ran through a human's veins. The thought of blood, of the wet pulse just under the skin, just out of reach... It made her close her eyes, lick her lips, and smile with eager anticipation. But she would wait, hopefully for a willing donor. If not, she would be forced to attack and unsuspecting human, but not in her club.
She opened her eyes and inhaled deeply, controlling her urge. It was second nature to her by now; she was over three hundred year old. By now she knew how to not get in trouble, how to lay low. The first few years she'd been a free vampire, she'd killed several people, but she'd spent a lot of time trying to control herself. She didn't want to relive those awful first few years. Now, if she could, she fed on willing victims, and if she couldn't, she never killed. She only drank enough to satisfy the thirst.
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