play me out

*:・ﾟ✧          A heavy sigh sounded from the woman in question   ;     ❛❛ If I had enough money,   I would bribe you to keep serving me   … ❜❜   The words were grumbled,   a slight slur to them as she looked up towards the male with slightly glazed hues.     ❛❛ …  ❜❜    Artemis’ gaze travelled towards the bartender as he took a seat beside the woman.    Did she look as though she would be good company?   Did she look as though she wanted company?    There was a slight roll of her eyes at the question.

           ❛❛ Depression?   Existential Crisis?  Feeling empty on the inside?  A total fuck up that hasn’t got anythin’ going for her?   Take y’ fuckin pick. ❜❜    

A brief chuckle escaped his lips. He raised the bottle as he would a glass. "All of the above!" he cheered as he enjoyed another swig of mead. The abrasive negativity didn't seem to put him off. If anything, it beckoned to him. As Ash swished around the nectar he prudently tasted his next words.

“What, no flowers?” She muttered with a wry grin, but her expression told him that she wasn’t very pleasantly surprised by the gift.

Not nearly as surprised though when she bit into one of the chocolates, a satisfied “Mmm!” passing through her lips as she gave a few experimental chews.  “Damn good, where’d ya get these from?”

"Made 'em myself!" he proudly proclaimed. He plucked a single chocolate from the box and scarfed it down with a swig of stout. "I don't bake too often, but I figured this would be a good day for some sweets."

Ash was Cyr’s port in the storm sometimes, in the chaos of chasing down a lead or organizing information.  Always an ear, always an avid confidant, at times the only reason she was able to receive cases on particularly slow months. It was for this particular reason that she’d stopped in on him today, hoping to take advantage of the nosy nature of his job and prize what wisdom she could from the rumor mill.  

“Sounds like bullshit crafted by junkies, yeah. Normally I’d agree with your first instinct…but…” 

The descriptors were interesting to be sure. Vampires weren’t known to make such sloppy repeated attacks in the same area to the point they’d be noticed. One or two incidents, sure, but dozens? It didn’t smell right.

On the other hand the idea that this was some mass drug trip seemed as unlikely. Shared hallucinations were a thing, but from what Ash mentioned these were stories stretching over the course of some weeks.

“The truth is probably somewhere in the middle. Not a vampire, no. But something is definitely happening to these people.” 

“Any of the survivors mention feeling any differently?  Maybe there’s a common thread there I can pull on.” 

     “Hrmmm, I’m not sure.” He lightly chewed his knuckle as he mentally scoured the various through testimonies. It wasn’t something that he’d thought to ask, though in hindsight he probably should have. Well, the answers would most likely be nebulous anyways considering the nature of second-hand sources.

     “I think one person mentioned that the survivor felt a little dazed... some of them said they looked pale. But that’s about all I’ve heard.” How frustrating it was. Why couldn’t he remember something as simple and crucial as that? Why didn’t he think to ask anything about it?

     Wait.

     “... Isn’t that weird?” He posed his question to both Cyr and himself. “Think about it. Multiple people coming forward with stories sharing the same MO and yet none of them have any injuries. They weren’t strangled, no hits to the head, nothing. All they wake up with are needle marks and some drowsiness. You’d think that’d be proof that they’re lying about their drug usage, but why would somebody who’s supposedly sober, let alone a dozen or so somebodies, go to someone they trust, show off their track marks, and make up a story about some vague, shadowy intruders? Somehow that makes even less sense.” 

* talk about your muse!

send 🍯 for a food headcanon

Ash used to have the tolerance of a toddler when it came to spicy food. Just the smallest amount was enough to have tears streaming down his face and snot dribbling down his chin. Zoey would use this to great effect. She’d randomly add spices to his food and get him to try new spicy treats without telling him just so she could laugh at him squirming under the heat. Now that he has years of drinking under his belt (especially fireball), he’s a bit better with it now. Still doesn’t go out of his way to eat spicy stuff.

I’m gonna head out in a little while for a COVID test, but I shouldn’t be gone long. I have really been in the mood to plot with some people, so I’ll reach out to some blogs and try to do that. If you have any ideas, feel free to reach out! I’d be happy to chat!

     "Well, look who's here to brighten my day!" Ash greeted the auburn detective with a silly grin. "Come on in, sunshine! I'll fix up the usual." After he invited her over, the bartender mixed and poured two simple vodka cocktails over ice. He slid back over to her, handed Cyr her drink, and snuck a quick yet confident peck on her lips. When she caught his gaze, she'd be met with his dumb, lovestruck smile and cheeks streaked in scarlet. "It's good to see you," he humbly fessed. "How's it going?"

...

     "Mmm, leads, huh?" The heat of his drink spilled from his lips in a course sigh. A hand idly drew circles on the countertop as he racked his mind for anything that might sate Cyr's need. "Well, I don't have anything solid; don't have much at all, actually. But there's been this weird little rumor that's been floating around for the last, say, six months or so, and I've been dying to learn a bit more about it."

     "I've had a couple people come in and tell me stories about strange dealings in the night. Ghouls and vampires, of all things. They say that these things break into your house in the middle of the night and attack you. Some claim they suck your blood, others say they kidnap you, one guy even swore that he found someone butchered like an animal. Crazy shit."

     "Of course, there's like a dozen caveats to these stories. They're all coming from the slummier end of town, lots of the testimony comes from junkies and people crazy enough to wind up in my bar, they refuse to go to the police, and I've only heard second or third hand accounts. But a couple things tipped me off. All of the victims who've claimed to have had their blood sucked out had at least one small puncture somewhere on their body. Even weirder, all of the victims were young. Like, kids to young adults. And the person telling the story would always swear up and down that they weren't known to use drugs, especially not IV drugs."

     "Oh, here." Ash interrupted himself at the end of his little report to take each of the glasses over for a refill. "Wild stuff, huh? I've only heard a handful of tales like these over the past six months or so, but they caught my attention enough for me to remember. Again, I know it’s not much to go off of, but it’s curious, right?” He returned and set both beverages down, peering up with prying eyes. “Whatdya think, Sherlock?”

Perhaps,    upon hearing the laughter which sounded from his lips,   most women would have been offended———   Artemis however understood where such a laughter came from,   she understood the depths of such a reaction   ( and if she wasn’t so genuinely frustrated,   she perhaps might have chuckled herself )   There was a dismissive wave of her hand when he apologised,   followed by a roll of her eyes as she continued to listen to him.

            The bartender’s next questions caught her off guard————    Not too many people picked up on that.

            Without a moment of hesitation,   she started drinking   ;   she would need something to help her if this was where the conversation was going.   A moment of silence lingered within the air before a loud sigh came from her   -   there was no doubt that she would need to explain things and whilst she didn’t mind,   it was still a little humiliating for her.      Artemis was twenty six and she hadn’t ever been on an actual date !!

            ❛❛  It’s  …   complicated …  ❜❜      she sighed internally as she dug up old memories of when she was a sweet seventeen   ;   the thoughts made her features twist.        ❛❛  When I was seventeen   …  I got into a relationship with a guy that was  …   well,   he was twenty-five or something at the time.  ❜❜      her hand waved off that small detail.

      ❛❛ Anyway,    we kinda just fell into a relationship I guess  …   he would call me up to go over to his place and I’d be there  …  we never went out to like  …  a restaurant or café or anything like that  …  ❜❜      she could feel a bitterness rise upon her tongue,   finger tapping at the surface of her drink.          ❛❛  He would invite me over   …   I’d sit and wait on his couch as he played video games for hours …  ❜❜      The woman bit down on her tongue,   sharp sigh leaving her lips as she held herself back from being a little too bitter about her relationship.

“That’s... uhm...” How would he put this delicately? “That sounds like the saddest fuckin’ relationship I’ve ever heard.” Nailed it. “I mean, y-you can’t even count that as a hook-up. That’s just two people existing in the same space. And for what? Just to enjoy the privilege of being able to say you’re in a relationship!?” The tension in the air crackled as his voice intensified with that last statement. God, what was he even feeling right now? Anger? Over a stranger’s decade-old relationship? Maybe Artemis wasn’t the only one getting stirred up by this conversation. 

He needed to cool off. Fingers snagged his drink back up and brought it to his lips, sipping it until he emptied it of sweet, stinging nectar. Just before he placed the glass back, he mentioned "But I guess that's how it goes." When he did set it down, he glanced back up and revealed how his expression softened. "You wind up in a situation like that, I mean you're miserable, it's unhealthy... But at least it's something. And it's better to have something than to go back to those awful, lonely nights, right?" A dry chuckle slipped out to the currents of the air, as if the boards themselves were creaking in a groaning laugh. "Right..."

Truthfully,    Artemis hadn’t expected for her words to be answered,   let alone listened to———   the ramblings of a woman who was simply tired of being single   (  and who could blame her,   she’s been single for a good ten years !! )      Through the thick frames of her glasses,   her attention turned form her phone and towards the bartender himself  ;   both brows arched as she listened to him spout off advice as if he was an expert on these matters.

           It took everything within the brunette not to roll her eyes ———   she had heard this spiel once before   ;     someone will fall in love with you and accept you for who you were.     At first she had hope for such a thing but after so many years of being on her own   …   without a single guy looking in her direction or taking interest in her   ;   it made her tired and frustrated.           Was there something wrong with her that she wasn’t seeing ??

           Artemis shifted against her seat,   both elbows leaning against the counter as she crossed her legs   -   she leaned her chin against her fingers and continued to stare up at the male blankly.      ❛❛  And yet here I am   …  ❜❜      It was then that she rolled her eyes a little,   falling silent as uncertainty washed over her.          ❛❛  I know I’m not cute   …   or pretty but   …   if I told you that I haven’t had a relationship in ten years  …   and in those ten years,   I’ve never been asked out or  …  had someone take an interest in me   …   Well   …  ❜❜      she trailed off with a defeated sigh.    

           There was a lazy wave of her hand as he started to become flustered,   a shake of her head following.    ❛❛  No  …  It’s fine   …   or whatever   …  I’m sorry, I probably sound incredibly bitter or like one of those girls who needs to be in a relationship   …  ❜❜      Well,   she was bitter   ;    but it was just one of those nights where she was just feeling more lonely than normal.           It was creeping up on her.                ❛❛  I’ll pay.   ‘s the least I can do.  ❜❜  

     Her defeated musings and subsequent apology had what must’ve been an unexpected effect on the bartender: he laughed. Not a laugh of condescending superiority or of knowing pity, but as if she had recounted a stinging joke long lost to recesses of infinite memories. Recognition, empathy, and a hint of pain. What a grab bag of emotions.

     "Sorry for laughing, and I'm sorry again for the lecture. That obviously wasn't what you needed to hear." He paused to take a sip of his drink, though it became more of a gulp as he finished half the glass in a single swig. "It's just… I mean I can't say I completely understand all the ins and outs of your situation. But I knew a couple of guys who felt that exact same way, were in that exact same position. I knew them very well." Far too well. More than he would care to admit right now.

          "Fuckin' hell, you're hot." The sentence slipped past his lips without even registering in his brain. I mean, it was an observation he'd made a hundred times: every single time she's walked in and taken a seat at his little establishment. Her strong, sharp stature that rivaled his own. The way her messy orange locks fought with the brilliant emeralds behind them. The husk in her voice as she shared tales of her cases between shots of vodka and rum. She was tough, yet she was so uniquely beautiful. He'd caught himself fantasizing about her more than once, but never really knew how to break any further headway than the small talk they'd gotten so accustomed to. In reality, all it took was time and a few extra drinks between the two of them.

          When he did realize what he'd said a stripe of scarlet rushed across his face, putting the one left by the rum to shame. Eyes widened from the shock and embarrassment and she got to see the glimmer in his own verdant irises. It was only for a second, however, as the booze slowly calmed his nerves and brought him back to a defeated smirk. He glanced back down to his drink for a moment before his eyes returned back to the face he so admired.