The Ivory Magnolia, LA

[Nightengale Xzerxia]

It had been many miles since the sun hid itself over the horizon allowing the petite biker to make a mad dash for the border. Her mind wandering as the bike between her thighs growled like an under fed lion threatening to devour the first edible morsel in sight. Vaguely aware of the echoing desire in her own stomach she bit into the flesh of her full, scared lip. Ignoring the churning in her stomach she continued on her path down the dark moon lit road.

All her troubles for that night would be solved once she managed to make it to the well known biker bar known as the Ivory Magnolia. Her face lit up with a ghostly smirk as she thought of the swamp stained bar and the inhabitants within. The bar had no restrictions, the quick and the dead all co-mingling in the chrome and oak decorated cesspool.

In truth it was the only place she had ever claim in a way of home. The violent tension the built was like a drug. An aphrodisiac to her sado-maso ways. There she could get anything her leather studded heart desired. Blood, sex, shelter, it was merely a few humid, mosquito riddled miles away.

[Solemn Creed]

Sol's face twisted into a grimace as he stumbled down the road, his feet barely lifting from the ground. What was left of his shirt was in tatters, clenched in his left hand. He was drenched in sweat and covered in a thin layer of dust. The how and why of it, Sol did not know.

It was night time but Sol felt as if he baked beneath the sun. It was a feeling he was not familiar with. He always felt hot, but this time things were a bit different. Sol felt as if he had a fever, his head ached and felt afire, the skin of his body itched and gave him the urge to just rip out of it. His hands were twitching every few minutes as if they wanted to just reach out and break something.

But the worst of all were the voices. The screamed endlessly, torturing him with their wails of misery that only he could hear. Thousands upon thousands of them, all lending voice to this screech trapped within his head. Every so often one voice would break away from the group and shout at him in their own way that they were dying, he was killing them. And in the process he was ending his own life as well.

They would whisper that it would be so easy for him to make them well again, that the headache would go away, the voices would fade to a faint but insistent whisper, and he could stop shaking. The muscle spasms would cease if only he just gave in. But no, Sol was trying to better himself. And the effort was killing him...

Finally after what had seemed like miles, Sol could see a building which, from this distance, seemed to be a bar of sorts. He felt drawn to it as though the living within offered their lives to him. Sol shook his head, vigorously, to clear it of such thoughts. As he shuffled towards the building, he told himself My throat is parched from my fever. Im only going inside for a quick drink.

Once close enough Sol noticed several bikes outside of the bar, and he even saw a woman entering the bar just as he was twenty feet from the door. Sol glanced at the tattered remains of his shirt that he held in his hand and he flung them aside. Not like he'd be able to use them again, were his thoughts as he opened the door to the bar and slipped inside. He took a quick glance of his surroundings and dismissed the possibility of danger as he walked over to order a drink.

((sorry it took me so long))

[Nightengale Xzerxia]

Pulling into the dusty lot of the rough and tumble bar the female quickly shut down her bike. Killing the choked purr of the engine with an indifferent twist of the key. Ricking the kick stand she allowed the bike to relax on it's tilt before swinging her leg over, the well worn leather of her pants creaked in complaint. Standing straight she rolled her head on her shoulders, the bones in her neck cracked slowly in succession.

Though she was no longer human it didn't stop her body for reacting to the long harsh hours on the ebony bike. Slipping her hands into her pockets she moved make her way to the door eying a male on her way in. Quickly dismissing the twitching testosterone bag as some drug addict she pushed the heavy doors open.

The scars covering her body glittering in the darken lights of the bar. Moving slowly her heavy boots were all but inaudible on the oak floors as she found her way through masses that currently inhabited the bar.
(Sorry my phone is messing up.)

[Solemn Creed]

Sol came to a stop and leaned against the bar. He waved the bartender over to him and even in his current state the air of calm command about him compelled the human to take his order before any others.

Sol inhaled deeply while closing his eyes and fora moment, he mastered himself. The shakes stopped and when he opened his eyes and spoke, it was with the seductively soothing, yet powerful and commanding, steady voice that he knew as his own. "I would like a glass water, now." he told the man, his stomache in the mood for no more, no less.

Once finished speaking, Sol's hold over himself slipped once more and his casual lean upon he bar became one of a man needing the support of something steady.

When the bartender handed him the glass of water he had ordered, Sol downed it in one gulp. The soothing clear liquid eased his dry palate and settled his uneasy stomache. He tossed a twenty dollar bill to the wretch, though he knew it was much to high an amount for the brief drink he'd had from the poorly washed glass he was given.

His thirst momentarily taken care of, Sol turned around and, leaning his back against the bar, he surveyed the other patrons, much as a predator would seek out prey. But he was just here for a drink...

[Nightengale Xzerxia]

Peering down the bar as she heard the voice of the male she had dismissed so easily a finely quirked brow rose with interest the, movement causing the scars covering her face to gleam in the light. The man wasn't like most of the patrons of this biker home. She could feel it.

Keeping her distance she eyed the bartender motioning her head to the back room where she proceeded not bothering to see if the male would follow her. They all fllowed eventually. It was the perpetual curse of man. It pleased her that she didn't even need to use her natural gifts of persuasion to coax the bag of meat after her. Perching on the counter of the room she waited like a cat preparing to pounce.

She had been quickly rewarded as her meal walked into the room having abandoned his post behind the counter. After all, there was a woman willing to open her legs for him, or so he thought. Smiling like the minx she was she didn't speak a word as she raised a finger coaxing the male toward her, and there he came like the puppy after his master.

As he came closer she grabbed the lapels of his shirt and tugged him into her embrace sinking her fangs into the male in one swift motion. He gave a grutaled cry as he felt her tear into his neck but soon became quiet as pleasure overtook his senses.

Finishing with the male she left him collapsed on the floor as she licked her lips clean of the crimson liquid staining her pale skin reentering the main bar without a second glance back at the worthless male she'd fed from.