DEAD & BORN & GROWN.

Night was his favorite time. Sure, he had his normal nap time before he went out to hunt the creatures of the darkness. Fergus whistled as he walked around the outskirts of town thoughtfully. Would he even run into anything? That’s one of the best things about Ashbourne and that was that he always ran into something. His hand had been tucked into his pocket, and held his gun proper. A stake in his other pocket, and he pretended to look up to admire the stars. To seem like an innocent fledgling oblivious to those that would do harm. The physical monsters in comparison to the inner monster he was.

“Dinner, ready to go.”

“Oi ye know..” Fergus murmured as he heard her words and lifted the corner of his lips into a smirk. “How about some take out, lass?” He said while he lifted the gun from his pocket and aimed quickly shooting two bullets in her direction. Both targeted for nonlethal areas, and he beamed over towards her with a wag of his brows. Sometimes the supernatural got the hop on him, but tonight he had been ready. He hadn’t grabbed the stake yet, because in all honesty he wanted to play with this monster first. This is a monster he would break, and it was going to be a joyous victory in his favor.

At least those were the thoughts running a marathon in is mind.

The human was quick, Fleur would have to give him that.

One bullet goes straight through the left side of her abdomen, the second bullet unfortunately getting caught in her hip. The force is enough to cause the old vampire to double over between the physics of it and the sheer surprise. Most of the hunters around here – well, they were rather useless, weren’t they? They certainly seemed to be when you looked at the state of the town and all of the monsters that walked around without fear, herself included. A hand moved to cover the wound, pulling back to see her own blood staining her finger. With a frustrated growl vibrating through her lips, her fingers dug into her own wound and ripped the bullet out of her hip so that it could heal properly.

There was a serpantine charm about the woman, as if she could delicately wrap herself around you and you’d barely notice until she was squeezing you to death. Blair couldn’t even claim to have minded. A woman as gorgeous as that was as good a way as any to die.

She did her best to give a veneer of confidence, the black leather jacket over a white fitted tee and jeans giving her that casual biker look, the kind that said she wasn’t here to impress people. And yet she still found herself wanting to make a good impression. A profound kind of loneliness that bordered on desperation swelled in her. The attention from the older vampire made her feel more alive than she had in months.

“O-Negative?” she repeated, stumbling on the words. “It comes in flavours?” She’d never really paid attention to the blood type of her victims. She’d always assumed the slight differences were based on the person. She must’ve made a freaking idiot of herself, because Fleur laughed almost immediately. Relieved, Blair rolled her eyes and gave a chuckle. “Very funny.” She gave the bartender a nod, placing her order, a Johnnie Walker blue and diet coke. With the drink in front of her, she turned back to Fleur. “So, do you toy with all the newcomers, or am I just special?”

Watching the blonde stumble over a reaction to the teasing words that she had thrown out confirmed two different things, as far as Fleur was concerned: she was young and she was new to Ashbourne. That was always a fun combination to toy around with.

One leg crossed over the other as she adjusted her seat on the bar stool, hemline on her black dress rising up slightly. It didn’t matter if it was an evening at a bar or a trip to the blood bank: Fleur Chenery always dressed her best, tailored outfits carefully styled and heels that looked like they could double as a weapon. “You’re young,” she grinned. “It’s cute. Ashbourne may be a home to monsters, but we still enjoy the finer things in life like everything else.”

In her many years there had only been a handful of moments where she had ever truly sat and thought on her existence as a vampire, wishing for a daylight enchantment to feel the sun on her skin again, beautiful people or art had been the few times it had ever bothered her, so the comment of staying open late didn’t go unnoticed, the smile only growing. “Oh.” It was then that it clicked, this woman had been trapped for some years, unlike Talia herself, “Well you weren’t missing much, the last century the world has been rather a mess without supernatural intervention.” She shrugged herself, but nodded again in answer, “We try to keep it neutral, Boss calls it a safe space, I prefer to think people leave their hang ups about other kinds at the door in favor of good music and decent booze.”

There had been advancements in the rest of the world that had taken place in Ashbourne that she had enjoyed. Now, with news coming instantaneously, it was easier to keep up with the rest of the world than it had been when she was first stuck inside of the little town. Still, there had been many instances in the past and both now that Fleur wished to be on the outside of the world. Even if humans weren’t capable of much more than ruining everything good. They were stupid. That hadn’t changed over the years.

“Perhaps I’m simply more prone to softer emotions.” Juliette offered patiently. It wasn’t necessarily surprising that Fleur felt the way that she did. While Juliette wouldn’t pretend to be an expert on the woman’s bloodline, she thought that might be a bit par for the course. Of course, she wasn’t even an expert on her own bloodline. She didn’t delve too deeply into what she was, besides the very clear rules and guidelines that she had to live by. She held herself with an air of grace and sophistication, because she was a Regium, but also because she was simply a lady. “I suppose we can’t fault them for something they’ve no control over, though. It wouldn’t exactly be fair.”

“Unfortunate that I haven’t had a chance to visit East Asia. I don’t think I ever made it past Russia. Beautiful country, that was, as well, but far too cold for anything to be truly fashionable, it was all function there.” Perhaps some day. Juliette refused to believe that she was forever damned to be in Ashbourne. She had enough time that eventually, there would be a way out. And then she would go back to visiting all of the places that she had always wanted to see. Perhaps Asia, perhaps somewhere South of the equator with warm breezes and glittering oceans. “It sounds fascinating, truly. Did you have a favorite style of clothing from your life? Was it that one, or something else? I was rather fond of the flapper style in the twenties, with the fun dresses and fancy hats. It was simply a fun time to be alive.”

“I suppose that would make sense given what you are. In my experience, rulers often let their emotions guide them as much as they do anything else." Of course, kings and queens had always fallen for one reason or another. Just as the Regium would one day – not permanently, just in mere recognition that they were not all they thought themselves to be. They were too humane. “But I suppose you were born more on the end of the monarchies, weren’t you? Other than Britain. It’s always been an anomaly.” She waved her hand dismissively. What was the point of the monarchy there if they did not hold all the power? It seemed pointless to her.

Blair had been burying her head in the sand. Since ending up in Ashbourne and leaving her sire and bloodline behind, she’d been struggling by as best she could. She was so terrified of not being able to control herself that all her meals came from the blood bank. Tonight, though, she decided to venture out.

Blair had been curious about the vampire bars since her arrival. When she was still a hunter, they had been a distasteful place that filled her with intense disgust and discomfort. Fighting that impulse was like being scared of heights and riding the elevator up the Empire State Building. She must have been looking lost as a little sheep when the stranger spoke to her, and just as vulnerable too, but she put on her best face, giving a nod. “That’s because I am,” she said with a neutral shrug.

The woman was attractive. Almost unreasonably so. She carried herself with a class and allure that drew her in. “Blair,” she said, introducing herself. “Sure, a drink would be great.” How to phrase this without sounding like an absolute idiot? “What’s good here? It’s my first time.” It sounded better than ‘I don’t even know what they serve’.  

If Fleur had been unsure about whether or not the blonde was new to Ashbourne before, then the answer that Blair gave her only made her certain. A feline smile remained curled on her lips as she eyed the other woman. There was always something fun about new people, vampires or otherwise. They were still learning the town which meant that there was plenty of opportunities to play games with them. Now, it was just a matter of what kind of game.

“Well, I prefer O negative.” She stated bluntly.

That was just a little toy, trying to see how she would react – if she were really new to all of this in the same way that she was Ashbourne, if she would believe all of it. Fleur’s expression remained serious for a long few moments before a smile broke across her features.

The Library was becoming a bit of a godsend for him of late, what with his research into the town’s history and the differing species here. To understand something was to hold sway over it, there was also his general interest in the types of magic this town happened to be home to. Plenty of topics that needed time and effort to study, granted, he didn’t like studying or even sitting for long periods of time but some evils were simply ones that had to be endured.

Explaining why he presently wandered the stacks of bookshelves, pausing in one particular section on historical origins and scanning the shelves for anything that struck him as being potentially useful. He needed to get to grips with this town, what made it tick and more importantly what opportunities it might present to him. There was also his interest in the actual layout of the town, not just the street maps but the ley-lines and underground tunnels that existed. His reasoning was his own, but they would prove useful information regardless.

It was while rummaging through some of the lower shelves that he heard a distinctly feminine voice from the opposite side of said case, one that caused his head to tilt up in that direction listening to her muttering. He debated answering, but figured the stranger might find an intrusion rude. He’d just been about to grab the book he needed when it shot out the opposing side evading his grip, “merde ces livres magiques,” he grumbled in a slightly accusative tone. Still, with a slow exhale through his nose pushed to his feet and circled around the shelves where the stranger wandered. “Ah, my apologies madame– A book I need is evading me…” he pointed to the writhing book jittering around the floor in question which he knew he wouldn’t be able to fetch what with the narrowness of the shelves.

Curiosity was something that Fleur allowed to take over her here and there over the years, particularly when it came to the cause of finding entertainment in Ashbourne. It was often hit and miss over the years. But this was a mystery just waiting to be unraveled, something that she could certainly make do with. The town was messed up and had its faults, and they ran back even longer than she had been around, this was proof of that. Even if it were some measly humans in the book, the woman’s will to just drown her own children to handle her problems had caught a little bit of interest. It wasn’t Henry so much that caught her attention as it was his wife. That was how it seemed to work with most men, after all. Most of them were just unimpressive enough to fly under the radar.

French, however, did catch her attention.

Her dark gaze flickered over to the male in question, lips pressed together in a thin line. It seemed as if he was having trouble of his own when it came to finding whatever he needed. She didn’t intend to offer him a hand with any of it. She was familiar with the library which was why it was so frustrating to not be able to find exactly what she needed so immediately. But truthfully, she didn’t know exactly what she needed.

“I think that I would argue that we all need a good cry every now and again. We may technically be dead, darling, but we still do have hearts.” Juliette was certainly not afraid of a little emotion. There was absolutely nothing wrong with feeling joy, feeling sorrow, feeling anger. The whirlwind of emotion that existed in the world, the way that she continued to experience it day in and day out, was something that helped Juliette hold on, just a touch, to the essence of who she might have been before her change. She had been human once, had been swept up in romanticized dramatics as any teenage girl might have. Her change hadn’t occurred until after she had the chance to over-dramaticize every feeling, every thought she might have had. She thought she might be better off for clinging to it, just a little. 

She didn’t consider herself necessarily superior, but being able to empathize with others, no matter their species? It was a fantastic life skill.

“The fifties, with their beehives and their dresses that hit the calf in an odd place, those poofy skirts.” A dramatic hand lifted to Juliette’s forehead as she recalled it all, nose wrinkling just a touch. She had been a rather forward thinking woman in the fifties, when the humans around her were getting married at eighteen and having their first child by twenty. Meanwhile, Juliette was writing her second novel and enduring whispers from women at diners about how odd and unnatural it was that she had no husband at her perceived age. If only they knew. The thought drew a smirk to her face.

“I didn’t necessarily mind the color palette, though. Neon colors and exciting patterns. I could have done without the swish swish of the pants as people walked, though.” A chuckle, and she offered the smallest nod of her head to the woman’s comment, a soft hum. “I would agree, but I can only recall the parties I used to attend with my parents, the hour or more that my mother would spend tightening my corset and the terribly itchy lace around my neck. I think I prefer the silhouettes of today, slender and closer to the skin, softer fabrics.”

“Oh, I feel plenty. There is no shortage of that.” Rage. Disappointment. Frustration. There were plenty of negative emotions that coursed through her veins when it was appropriate but rarely did they manifest themselves in a form of sadness. Perhaps that was due to her bloodline. “But it’s been at least two or three hundred years since I’ve felt something like that. And I should think if I were going to shed tears of blood, I’d be even less inclined to do so.” Perhaps it was because most things other than her church were held at an arm’s length so that they did not break at her in such a way. But the only thing that had come close to causing her to breakdown like that was the church being burnt. She hadn’t felt a heaviness like that in a long time and she had no desire to feel anything like it again. All of it was better to be kept at a distance where she did not truly have to confront the way that she felt.

After the curious old journal had arrived on her doorstep, Fleur had poured through every page of it. It was obvious it was old and had not been kept in the best condition over the years – whoever had been its keeper prior to her, she had no idea. No one had been around when she had opened the door, not even a trace. It almost felt like a hoax. Why leave this on her doorstep? What was so important about it? The way that it was written, the fog... it was undoubtedly about Ashbourne. She could piece together that much on her own, and some man named Henry’s family. But that didn’t give her much to go off of. Henry wasn’t exactly an uncommon name. She would have to do more digging to get her answers.

Perhaps some kind of a witch could have gotten her answers more quickly, but she wanted to come across them on her own terms. That was why she had come to the library. Perhaps one of the chained books would hold an old answer. If Willow liked to write down the stories of the townsfolk, who was to say there wasn’t one who did the same who came before her?

It was a habit of Fleur’s to keep an eye on the vampires that came (and possibly disappeared) inside of Ashbourne’s limits. She liked to be familiar with those around, know who was a believer and who was a heretic. Of course, the latter had been more difficult in the last two and a half months after the Sanguinem Aeternam had been burnt down by a mad man. Answers were running dry as to who had done it which only left her feeling more and more unsettled with each day that passed. The Council was useless – careless. She wanted answers that she wasn’t sure she could wait for much longer.

“You are an unfamiliar face.” And a pretty one. Given that this place catered primarily to vampires and she did not wreak of humanity, it was an easy assumption to make. “Can I get you a drink? Fleur Chenery.” She introduced herself.

Juliette didn’t want to tell the woman that the idea of a vampire religion that worshiped the idea of ruling over humans like flocks of sheep was not her idea of a fun time. That, quite frankly, it sounded absolutely awful if she was being completely honest, the idea of lording over humans something that, by rights, they shouldn’t have to begin with, was almost disgusting to her. It had taken a long time for Juliette to stop resting her own death and rebirth, though she didn’t hate the idea of her immortality now, she had not always loved the life of a vampire. She had wanted to be a human again several times over her long century of life, that she had found several humans that she thought far better than any vampire she had met.

There was a reason she would never sire another person herself. She didn’t regret her own life, found herself strangely fond of it the older she got, but it didn’t mean she would wish it or inflict it on anyone else. 

A small smile tugged at her lips, however. “Regium. I’m not sure I would be able to handle the crying blood that comes with Cupiditas, though I have met one or two from that bloodline that are pleasant company over time.” 

A chuckle left Juliette, and her head shook a bit. “Americans rather enjoy rewriting their own history to make it seem less bad than it was. But it wasn’t all bad. I rather enjoyed the ridiculous fashion and music of the sixties and seventies. Disco and feathered hair, quite a wild ride.”

Regium. Although Fleur preferred vampires to all of the other species that were roaming around in this little town, she often couldn’t decide how she felt about that particular bloodline. The fact that they tended to act superior to the other bloodlines just because they were so genteel and apparently enlightened. They might have been the least annoying of the other bloodlines, but she didn’t see what gave them the right to be so haughty about everything else. Her irritation lied in the fact that she thought that Furorem were superior to the Regium. Not in the same way that she thought vampires were superior to all of the other species, the bias wasn’t nearly as big. Vampires were still vampires at the end of the day. It was more a problem with the attitude of the species than the species itself.

“The crying blood is quite dramatic, isn’t it? As if crying by itself isn’t embarrassing enough,” she commented with a small laugh slipping through her lips. Such emotions weren’t meant for a public place to begin with and she would have rather been dead than caught having that kind of breakdown. She swung between pleasure and rage. “But I agree, they aren’t the worst.”

Judgement was hard to keep hidden, and try as she may have in the past, Natalia wasn’t above judging people purely on their aesthetics. This woman was beautiful, in a way that almost made the other mad she wasn’t a fellow Cupiditas, and when the art gallery was mentioned her point was only pushed further. “I’m always looking for new places filled with art to enjoy.” A smile, small but sweeter than she may have usually given a regular patron or even business owner in town, “So, besides my interruptions, how are you enjoying the Diamond so far?”

“Well, then you might enjoy my gallery. It’s open late, of course, most nights.” Corners of her lips do remain turned up as her gaze doesn’t stray away from the woman. She was quite good at remaining focused even in busy or noisy places like this. Some people found her focus to be quite intense or intimidating given how unafraid she was of eye contact. “I have to admit, it’s not my... usual scene. But I do like jazz music. Following its invention was a bit difficult in this town.” She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. 

fleurchenery‌:

Science was something that had not always held much interest to Fleur over the years. When she had been human, education like that had not been available to her – even for many years after, women just hadn’t received the kind of knowledge easily. She had picked up on some over the years. but she still didn’t care much for the details. Whether or not feeding was caloric to her was equivalent to nonsense. It was unimportant.

“Do you believe all of the humans who go missing here just die?” Fleur didn’t. Perhaps vampires contributed to some of it, but it seemed to be too much for such a small town. She regarded it as magic and didn’t think too much deeper about it.

A mocking laugh escaped. “Oh, no. There are two reasons a vampire will bite enough vampire. Rage or sex. He is neither.” Henryk hadn’t been angry until after she’d fought back, after all. She wouldn’t have cared less about what was going on with him if it was not for the fact that he had attacked her. Any other vampire and she would have turned her head. “You don’t think that I’m going to give you everything, do you? See how far that knowledge and curiosity takes you.”

Vivienne shrugged at the question. She didn’t have those answers. Not yet. Surely there must be some who survived, but had they found a way outside the borders of town? Or were they simply living like brutes in the woods, far away from everyone else. “No, certainly not. There is plenty of mystery here to suggest otherwise. But it wouldn’t be far fetched the assume most of them do, and rather unpleasant deaths at that.”

Viv responded with a tight lipped smile. “I assure you, it’ll get me farther than you think. But I appreciate the head start all the same.” So it wasn’t uncommon for vampires to feed on others, but only when they were aroused, either by anger or libido. Interesting. 

A drunken reveller crashed into the garbage bin next to the woman, signaling it to Viv that it was time to leave the parade to the more debaucherous crowd. “It’s been a pleasure,” she offered, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her tone. While irksome, the woman have proved quite useful, but Viv hoped not to run into her anytime soon.