Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 13, 2011 14:58:14 GMT -5
Russia. In 206 years, this was the one place Gypsy had never traveled to. She'd been damn near everywhere else, but never Russia. And it was beautiful. And the clubs! It was winter, but winter was Gypsy's favorite time. Longer nights. And Gypsy spent a lot of time in Canada, and well, that's some harsh winter.
Today Gypsy was dressed rather tamely. Her long hair was only black and blonde, hanging straight down to her waist. She wore blue jeans, and black knee high leather boots. She wore a black t shirt, under a black long sleeve shirt. She had on a nice fur coat, one that fell to her knees. Her makeup was dark as usual, and a black hat with a green G sat on top of her head. She also wore a nice pair of leather gloves. The only thing out of place is that Gypsy carried her guitar, as she usually always did.
Gypsy didn't actually need any of this, but it was a way of blending in, which was pretty essential when you're a vampyre. She walked down the street, loving the sights, the smells. She loved the smell of snow, ever since she was a mortal child. She'd always loved music as well. She learned to play the guitar when she was..80 or so. And the only person she ever truly cared about had given her this guitar, and had been brutally murdered shortly after. Not by her. By mortal men. Gypsy shut her eyes against the memory, and re opened them to look at her surroundings. Now.. She thought, Where can I get some good beer and dance?
She heard a beat a little ways away from her, so she walked to her, and smiled when she realized it was another club. Score! Gypsy turned on her 300-watt smile, and walked right in. She pulled off her coat, and hung it up. She had everything she needed. She bought a drink, and instantly got on the floor. Soon, she was dancing with three or four people. Gypsy usually attrached people to her. Her eyes scanned the bar, seeing who was there. She wanted a sexy person, male or female, to charm tonight.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 13, 2011 16:00:07 GMT -5
Russia. Home of the infamous former KGB. It was a fortress of espionage and assassination. Even twenty years after the supposed end of the Cold war, the fall of the Berlin wall, the United States and Russia still competed for mastery of the information world. Even if the competition became less hostile, they still fought like cats and dogs for that top spot. Of course, Rennia knew a fair bit about that field, so naturally she had been to Russia more than once in her life.
Today she had been scheduled to meet with one of those fabled KGB members. The organization had been officially shut down in 1991, after the fall of the Soviet Union. However, anyone with an inkling of insight knew that Russia was not about to completely decommission their infamous security agency entirely. Even in the world of secrecy KGB members worked off-grid. It was all unofficial. If they were ever caught, they were to act as if they simply had retained a grudge against the fall of the Soviet Union, that they remained true to the fallen empire, and would die for that belief.
Of course the world knew better. Well, at least the informed portions of it did. Proving the contrary however, to the known world, and even those outside the world of secrecy, would be a task nigh impossible. You would have your conspiracy theorists that would easily gobble up information about Ex-KGB members still working actively, but conspiracy theorists often were counterproductive to the truth being believed. They still argued that the world trade center attacks were an inside job. Most of the world thought they were insane. So the KGB could operate just fine, safe in the knowledge that the truth would never be believed.
Rennia sighed heavily. If the world knew half of what was really going on behind closed doors, it would likely fall apart at it's hinges. Of course Rennia was in a unique position. She was aware of the secrets of the mortal world. However, she was also well connected within the supernatural world as well. Most humans truly did not know what was hidden right in front of their eyes.
In short, this all boiled down to Rennia finding herself at the counter of another dreaded club. Clubs had not been Rennia's thing for the past twenty years. Ironically enough the fall of the Berlin wall signified the fall of an era. Rock and roll, and even pop had been phased out of clubs. There were a few rock and roll 'shelters' left in the world, and those she did frequent. The Hard Rock Cafe happened to be one of her favorites.
Places like this, however, were not her favorite places to hang. They often blared trashy 'techno' beats across their speakers. The god awful tones just made Rennia want to gag. How anyone could enjoy this, or even rap, made her question what the world was coming to. However, the person she was to meet with had requested this location, so here she found herself.
Rennia sighed as she leaned on the counter. By now, the person had come, met with her, and left. Now she was simply burning time as she mulled over the information she had been given. It wasn't pretty, but it wasn't an urgent situation that called for immediate action, lest the world come to a screeching halt.
The demoness picked up the glass that was placed in front of her and drained the vodka from it. She made a face at the taste of it. Russians liked their Vodka. Rennia did not. Unfortunately a toast is not something you turn down in Russia. It was almost like a slap to the face with them. So now she had an entire bottle of Vodka that she had to find something to do with. Wasting it wasn't really an option even if she hadn't asked for it in the first place.
Like so many other supernaturals she wasn't overly bothered by the cold. In fact she was somewhat fond of it. Winter was one of her favorite times of the year. The scenery of a frozen mountain range, dotted with evergreens. A small lake nestled in a valley and frozen over. It was simply beautiful. However, also like many supernaturals, she wanted to blend in. So she had donned a nice, high quality, Russian fur coat, which she had left at the door. Now she was still covered from neck to toe in black. She even had that cloak about her to hide her wings and tail.
Unfortunately that sometimes drew attention to her, being clad in such unusual attire often made her stick out. Fortunately for her she was in a dark corner while the rest of the people were too busy dancing and having a good time. That seemed to include the latest newcomer. Unfortunately she seemed keen on finding someone to have fun -with- and thus was scanning the inside of the club for someone. Rennia lifted her shoulders slightly and tilted her glass up after refilling it in a halfhearted attempt to escape the woman's attention.
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 13, 2011 16:46:00 GMT -5
Gypsy finished her drink, and the song, before thanking her dance partners and walked off the floor. Well, danced off the floor. She wound up dancing with a few more people on her way to the bar. She was laughing by the time she got to the bar, and the laugh etched beauty on the vamprye's face. To the naked eye, she simply looked like a 20 year old who just wanted to have fun. Which is what she felt like right now. She never forgot what she was, or that hunters searched for her and others like her, but she liked when she could just go out dancing and let the worry of the world go.
The sad part was, she'd still look like a 20 year old when these people were old and gray. She didn't know what to think of that, since it happened all the time. It was awkward trying to have mortal friends, since you have to explain that you'll never get old, or have a reflections...or a shadow. Eh, she thought. She had the marks, and they didn't. Just the way the cards were dealt, she supposed. You either played the hand, or fold and walk away empty. Even though Gypsy had an endless life, she still wanted to live it to the fullest.
Gypsy spun on her heel, her eyes landing back on the woman at the table. She tilted her head a little, but shurgged and ordered a round of shots for the people around the bar. They took the shot together, and she went back to dancing. Gypsy also knew how to move her body like actual gypsy dancers did, and she also knew the belly and Spanish dancing. And when Shakira's "La Totura", her body couldn't help but move the way she knew it could. It drew a lot of attention, and soon there was a circle around her. It was all good attention though. Gypsy had always known how to dance, and she could dance many different dances, from pole dancing to ball room dancing.
Eyes followed her, and she loved the feeling of it. she spun, turned, shook her body. And her eyes scanned the people. Sadly, as much fun as she was having, there wasn't really anyone here that she wanted to sleep with. The song ended, and the crowd went into claps and cheers. Drinks were bought for her, and she took them, but soon the vampyre was bored. She leaned against the bar, her eyes looking around again, and falling on the woman sitting half in the dark.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 13, 2011 18:04:31 GMT -5
The demoness watched as the vampyre began to dance. Those glowing orbs followed her around the room as she swayed. Rennia knew she liked the attention, but for the moment she let her have it. She moved like someone with more years of practice than her age allowed. Rennia however, for one, was not surprised. She herself only looked roughly the same age, but she had seen more years than most nations as a whole had.
Finally the fiendish woman decided to test the waters. She pushed herself out of her seat. She grabbed up the bottle of vodka her contact had so generously bought for the occasion with a black gloved hand. Her middle and ring finger clutched at the neck of the bottle as she towed it along with her on a short trip over towards the DJs stand. She stalked right up to the man and leaned gently against the nearby pillar. If it wasn't for the fact her stance the entire way there had been perfect, one might have thought she was drunk.
It wasn't uncommon for DJs to take requests, but hers was an unusual one. "Триста долларов, если вы играете в первые несколько песен на здесь." (Three hundred dollars if you play the first few songs on here) She spoke in fluent Russian, a language she had studied extensively following the Second World War. The DJ looked at her as if she had spoken nonsense for a moment, but the look quickly disappeared as he plugged in a device that she held out to him. It was a small MP3 player that she had brought with her for entertainment. It was worth maybe sixty dollars itself, so she wouldn't be overly bothered if it never made it's way back to her.
Immediately he spun up the device and queued up the first song on the device. Immediately the atmosphere changed as good old fashioned rock began to pour through the speakers of the club. The song started off with the standard guitar solo, intermittent drums played before soon joining in on the background. Then the words came through fluently. 'Your cruel, device. Your blood, like ice. One look, could kill. My pain, your thrill'. The world was instantly plummeted back into the late Eighties as Alice Cooper's "Poison" filled the club's halls. Rennia grinned as the fitting song thundered out of the speakers.
At first the song selection drew a few quizzical looks from the club's inhabitants, but even as old as the song was, it soon had people bobbing their heads and swaying to the beat. A few people cooed out their approval of the song and immediately set to dancing.
Rennia herself grinned wickedly over at Gypsy as she found herself a seat closer to the bar. She shot the ball into the other woman's court. Now she wanted to see if, and how, Gypsy would send it back.
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 14, 2011 10:33:58 GMT -5
Gypsy's blue eyes followed the woman around the bar, then back to the dance floor while the woman spoke with the DJ. Her ears picked up on pieces of Russian, though that was one language Gypsy didn't know. She knew several others, just not Russian.
She turned back to the bar to order another drink, before a chill crawled up her spine when she heard the opening piece of "Poison". The blonde spun around, her eyes landing on the DJ, then the woman who was grinning wickedly at her. Gypsy's smile spread slowly, back at the woman. So, the lady wanted to play, did she? That was fine with Gypsy.
She grabbed her drink, downed it, and turned back to the floor. They all looked at her like they expected her to do something. It happened every time she pulled out the Gypsy moves. (hehe that was a pun..Anyways). Her eyes scanned the building, as she danced. She loved "Poison", absolutely loved it. She also sang the lyrics, which considering how old the song was caused people to tilt their heads at her a little. She didn't give a flying fuck, she'd kill them all in a second if she chose. Gypsy listened to the songs that the woman had requested, which were all older, and heavy. She knew how to throw the ball back. She danced her way off the floor, and went to talk to some people she'd met earlier, all musicians. When they agreed, she went to talk to the DJ. Well, she had to give him a little shock of pain to make him say yes, but sue me, she's an evil vampyre.
There was a stage with a full band in the house. They jumped up there, and set it up. Gypsy was about to sing, which she loved to do, but usually didn't do it in public. Since she couldn't speak Russian, she got the guitarist, who thankfully spoke both English and Russian, to translate. Basically, he just told the crowd that they were going to do a couple of songs, and we hope you enjoy it. A few quizzical glances at her, and each other was the response. Gypsy shrugged, and first picked up a violin, and played a small piece to the approval of the crowd. Then, she grabbed her guitar, and belted it out.
"Gimme fuel, Gimme fire, Gimme that which I desire!!"
The band kicked in, and the DJ played with the lights to bring more attention to them. Gypsy, being the firecracker she is, she bounced around the stage as she continued the song. She didn't play her own guitar for a while into the song, but when the solo came, she swung it around, and rocked just as hard as she could. She played a perfect solo, and it was obvious the longer Gypsy was on stage, the more it could be seen, if she'd lived her mortal life, she probably would've been famous. She missed that sometimes, but oh well. She enjoyed rocking night bars. Her eyes flicked to the woman sitting near the bar, then the crowd, where a really tasty looking morsel was standing. Rocking out worked up Gypsy's appitite, and sex drive, but she'd deal with both later.
As she ended the song, the crowd, to her honest shock, cheered. She hadn't really cared if they had cheered or not, but it was cool that they did. Gypsy smiled her 300-watt smile, designed for melting the hearts of people. She ran her fingers through her head, and tried to decide what to do next.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 14, 2011 13:41:37 GMT -5
The demoness's eyes followed the woman as she made her way back out to the dance floor. She seemed just as fluent in dancing these tunes as she was the newer era of what people called music. She even knew the lyrics. She watched as Gypsy danced through tune after tune, never missing a beat.
Rennia couldn't help but chuckle lightly as the woman got up on stage with the band. So the other girl knew how to play ball after all. Well that certainly would make this game a little fun. She also seemed to know what music really was. Rennia admired that. Then the music began to pour out of the speakers and Rennia couldn't help but run her tongue along those rows of sharp pearly whites. This was absolutely delicious.
The demoness bobbed her head to the music Gypsy and the band put out. A cover of an older metal tune. She had always liked most of Metallica's work. Of course you occasionally come across a bad egg or two. No band was without those. But this was not one of those. And though it had been covered by more than a couple bands, she never the less appreciated the song for what it was.
When the music came to an end, Rennia offered a clap. It wasn't an overenthusiastic smack your neighbors on the rebound clap, but it was one of appreciation all the same. So she could dance, she could play the guitar, and she could sing. Well, Rennia found the ball back in her court. Now it was time to serve it back she supposed.
Rennia again found herself leaving her seat and walking, as apposed to stumbling, over towards the stage. She set her Vodka bottle off to the side and hopped up on stage. She knew clubs often carried spare instruments in case someone decided to perform and didn't have one with her, so it took a few moments to locate herself a rather nice looking guitar. She mused that she might have to buy it.
She plugged it in and tweaked the settings before she began to slowly strum. Those familiar with rock and roll, and even it's techno revitalization would instantly recognize the opening riff of the Rolling Stone's "Paint it Black". She played the extended form, covering the first two lines of the song before adding that little flare. She slowly looked back to the drummer who seemed to be waiting, wondering if she wanted him to start his part.
Rennia brought a finger up to signal him to wait a moment. She then tweaked the settings on the instrument yet again and then looked around to the crowd who seemed to be expecting her to do something. She then looked to Gypsy and smirked. Those gloved hands lightly stroked over the strings, giving a soft strum of the guitar.
All of a sudden she turned back to the crowd and shouted. "ALL ABOARD!" At that moment the bass guitar and drums began that short intro. It was shortly joined in by Rennia strumming the main riff of the song. "Crazy, but that's how it goes. Millions of people, living as foes. Maybe, it's not to late, to learn how to love, and forget how to hate."
The music blasted out of the speakers to the crowd who seemed to be suffering whiplash from the night's unexpected entertainment. Rennia meanwhile kept looking to Gypsy as she sung the song's lyrics. Her own fingers not missing a note on that guitar she had slung over her shoulder. Unlike most rhythm guitar players she used her fingers rather than a pick. The fingers of both hands were flying up and down the instrument as she kept time with it.
Soon the song came to the solo and Rennia went all out. Her fingers would likely have been a blur to most of the intoxicated crowd as they slid up and down the neck. The strings buzzing as they weren't given a moments rest. As with most live versions, she added her own improvisation on the solo, without missing any of the base notes.
She wasn't a professional singer herself, but her voice was far from unpleasant, and she was quite apparently not tone death either. Simon Cowell might have given her a pass, but she doubted he'd have been overly impressed by it. That didn't matter to her, however; all she cared about was having fun doing an activity she enjoyed. She wasn't even playing for the crowd, well except maybe for the woman next to her on stage. It was just her, the band and the guitar in her hands.
Finally the notes of the song died off, leaving her standing there in her ever so awkward black attire that she had not dared to shed even for this little performance. It made her look odd, standing there in a full body cloak, a thin black duster underneath that occasionally showed itself when she danced about the stage. It felt good to finally let her streak out again. She hadn't been on a stage in years. Her uniqueness played a part in that. The rest of it was due to the dying era of rock. Now she had let all that pent up energy out and it felt good.
She looked to Gypsy and tilted her head in a respectful bow.
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 14, 2011 14:10:46 GMT -5
Gypsy watched the crowd, and set the mic back in the stand as the other woman walked up to the stage. Gypsy pulled out a smoke, and lit it up while she waited. She watched the woman search through the guitars with the same care Gypsy herself did. She leaned on the mic stand, her own guitar slung on her back. She nodded approvingly to "Paint it Black", and Gypsy smiled at the woman when she looked around at her friends.
When she turned back to the crowd, and shouted "All Aboard". Well, as Gypsy was the was standing with the mic, guess what she did? She knew this song too. Who didn't? Gypsy kept her own beat by getting the crowd to join in before the lyrics started. Since this was Gypsy's song, she had alot more fun, as she hopped, danced, and got the crowd involved. Before long, she had them shouting "I'm going out the rails on the crazy train". Gypsy went over to Rennia, and the two sang together for a while, before Gypsy bounced away again. Gypsy knew this song very well, but it was a song that she knew was very hard to cover, because hey, it's Ozzy.
When they reached the solo, Gypsy stood back, and watched Rennia play with everything she had. She watched her get lost in the passion of the music, and almost missed her cue when she got caught up. But she saved it. She held the last note longer then others might've but honestly, she liked the sound of her own voice. And she could even do the laugh at the end. She set the mic back in its stand while the crowd went wild. She smirked a little, crushed out her cigarette, and looked back at Rennia. She nodded a little, also in a respectful manner, and then grinned brightly at her.
Gypsy got such a high from being on stage, and had thought once or two of being a famous vamprye, once every 100 years or so, but she never followed through with it, because she liked death and mayhem a little too much. This was the only time Gypsy felt normal. When the bass and drums were pounding on her, where you couldn't hear yourself think, and all you can think is the next part of the song. She tilted her blonde head at Rennia, and smiled. She walked over to her.
"Well, now that we've put on a very rocking show, why don't I buy us a drink?"
Gypsy had the slightest English accent, that couldn't be heard when she was singing. And it was thick when she was angry. But right now, Gypsy's eyes sparkled like a child on Christmas day, and she looked like a regular 20 year old. But you only had to look past the sparkle to know she wasn't.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 14, 2011 14:58:05 GMT -5
Rennia approved of Gypsy's taste, and had no objections to her joining in. She also found Gypsy had a talent for getting people into the music. It wasn't a quality Rennia herself had. To be honest she often tried to avoid the attention. She didn't sing in public places because, well she never considered herself to be that great at performing, and she had a reputation she liked to uphold. She did however, have a similar talent. While she couldn't get people to bounce off the walls and sing, she did have a knack for inspiring people to fight for what they believed in.
She watched Gypsy and time seemed to flow backwards for once. She was brought back to the days of hard rock and enthusiastic crowds. How often had she been one of them? How many times did she wish she could just jump on stage and pour herself into those guitars. When she did get on stage, the world just faded away. Nothing else mattered but what she wanted to do. Screw the crowd if they didn't like her music, she did. People didn't have to love her for who she was. They just had to live with her. But, hers was a life of secrecy and shadows, and as much as she liked to play, the thought of ten thousand pairs of eyes watching her all at the same time made her stomach churn. She was a watcher, and hated being the watched. Maybe in another life she would have been a guitarist for some rock band.
When the music stopped, when it was all over and it was just her and Gypsy, the other woman offered her a drink. Rennia chuckled, dipping her head to look down slightly. When she brought her head back up she used a gloved hand to brush the bangs away from her face. Rennia had the face of some proud, arrogant, "highborn" would dream to have. Had this been the middle ages, she might have been mistaken for a noble. But there was one thing Rennia lacked. The arrogant pride. When she smiled, it wasn't that look of 'I'm so much better than you'. It was an honest, warming smile. Like her eyes, however, she still retained the look of a serious woman. Someone who would kill without question.
"Anything but vodka please." She chuckled again before turning her head to nod over to the mostly finished bottle to the side. "I've had my fair share of it. Unfortunately, being we're in Russia, it seems to be the only thing in abundance at the bar." Rennia was over a millennium old, and she naturally began her life in Eurasia. However, she did not bear any remarkable accent. It wasn't French, German or English. She had spent the last leg of her life in the United States. It was there she adopted the accent, or rather, lack there of, of the Northern Plains. It didn't carry the thick accent of the Norwegians who settled there. It wasn't like the Southerns either. It bore no Texan drawl, no Arkansas hillbilly slur. There was no New Yorker in her. Her words were simply bare and pronounced. It was a far cry from when she spoke Russian, which carried with it that Russian bur.
She looked out over the bar and motioned with her hand to the general area. "After you."
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 14, 2011 15:23:44 GMT -5
Gypsy's body was always moving, it always looked like she was dancing. Unless she was on a mission, or in a fight, Gypsy couldn't stay still, and normally, her hands shook. Sadly, being changed into a vamprye didn't change that. And being changed into a vamprye didn't really effect her body temperature either. She was usually quite a bit warmer then other vampryes, and she didn't know why. And Gypsy had always loved the sun. She used to think she'd make a terrible vamprye, but so far, she was doing fairly well.
She looked at Rennia when the woman spoke, and Gypsy's smile brightened. Anything but vodka. She listened to her next words, and a laugh escaped Gypsy's lips. It was a nice, easy soft sound. For an evil bitch, she was quite the people person. As she turned, she saw two girls kissing, and she let out a whoop, which made the kissers stop, and look at her. She waved then strolled over to the bar. She looked at the bottles behind the bar, then looked at the bartender.
"Bottle caps!" The bartender smiled at her, winked, and went to mixing the shots. A bottle Cap was 1/2 oz Sour Puss® raspberry liqueur, 1/2 oz root beer schnapps, 1 1/2 oz 7-Up® soda, and 1/2 oz margarita mix. She watched as he poured the Sour puss and schnapps in a shot glass, and the 7-up and mix in a highball glass. He dropped the full shot glasses into the glasses, and slid them forward. She slid him the bills, and took the glasses. She took them to Rennia and gave one to her. She smiled.
"These are so good, I think you'll like it"
Gypsy watched her face for a reaction, and she twirled her fingers around her hair, something she did often, because of how long it was. She kept her smile in place, as she turned her eyes to the floor. She watched the people for a moment, her eyes turning slightly misty. She smirked, and turned back to Rennia. She held her glass up.
"Cheers"
She tapped her glass against Rennia, and drained it in one. Her body moved as the music returned to what it had been when they entered the club. She loved this song, and looked at Rennia, a grin on her face. She had a whole dance to this song, and in her opinion, that dance was kick ass. But, she had started this conversation, and Gypsy wouldn't put off someone to talk to for a dance....Usually.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 14, 2011 15:49:12 GMT -5
The demoness's eyes wandered over towards the pair that were kissing when Gypsy whooped. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she was suddenly reminded of Rayne. It had been a while since Rennia had been with Rayne. As unfortunate as it was, it was well out of her hands for the moment. That's just how life was. One moment your happily enjoying time with your Fiancee, the next your in Russia at a club.
Rennia sat down at the edge of the stage as Gypsy went up towards the bar. As old as she was, she hadn't lost interest. So her eyes wandered down a little too far, watching the other woman's caboose without a hint of shame. She smirked to herself and forced those eyes to wander elsewhere for a moment. The club seemed to be winding down slowly, the dancers having become exhausted after their little show. It would only last for a good half an hour before the next crowd would arrive to take it's place while they rested up again.
When Gypsy returned the demoness drew a deep breath. She could smell the liquor and it did smell enticing. She gave a grin as she reached out to grasp the offered glass with that gloved hand. "I do enjoy a good drink every now and then. And it is most definitely something other than Vodka." She raised her glass and tapped it against Gypsy's before she similarly downed her glass in one go. A long life of the occasional heavy, straight drink had given her a good tolerance to alcohol, even beyond that which naturally graced demon-bloods.
Then Gypsy asked for her name. Rennia spun her glass slowly within her grip. The background music flooded into her ears as she mulled it over. It had been a long time since she'd given anyone her real name. There was more than one reason of course. She wanted to keep herself out of the spotlight, and that meant being elusive. But inwardly something compelled her to tell this woman anyway. After all these years, maybe she could let it slip here and there. After all, she was sure she could handle anything they sent after her. Maybe it was time for the world to know Rennia Trayvold again.
Rennia shook her head to clear her thoughts before she smiled to Gypsy again. "What do they call me, or what is my name? Most people call me Wolf. My name, however, is Rennia."
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 14, 2011 16:25:49 GMT -5
Gypsy felt eyes on her, which kind of irked her. She liked attention, but she hated when people simply stared at her. She relaxed when she realized it was just the other woman checking her out. She smirked, and flipped the shot glass up and down, catching it with her left. She shook her hair out of her eyes, and took a look over her shoulder. She had a nagging feeling something was watching her. She turned back.
"Rennia...I like that. Most people call me Gypsy, but my name is actually Melissa. Though, I prefer Gypsy"
Melissa was too normal, too much reminderer of the poor mortal she'd once been, with no food, money. Anything. She'd join a Gypsy camp after she was turned, and she became very good at the dances, and practices. Of course, when they found out what she was, she was banished on sight. But the name had stuck with her. For almost 200 years, the name had stuck. It suited her, she thought. Gypsies were supposed to be mysterious, and when she wasn't acting like a normal 20 year old, Gypsy was quite mysterious.
Gypsy looked at her face, her eyes, and scanned the rest of her, noting her appearance fully, and filing it away in her brain. She lit a smoke, and took a long drag while she glanced around the club. Now that she'd danced, sung, and drank, Gypsy was...almost bored. Now she just needed a good fuck, and her night would be complete. Usually, thats how it went, but tonight, she'd met a very interesting being, and wanted to talk more with her, then she had probably anyone. She just had no idea why.
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 14, 2011 16:50:21 GMT -5
She placed the glass down upon the stage and gave a nod. Gypsy huh? She certainly had the moves one one. Rennia tried to remember the last time she saw a real gypsy camp. Even in this day there were those who still roamed about, calling themselves gypsies... but they were as fake as the "gold" jewelry they decorated themselves with. It had been probably close to sixty years, if she remembered right. She had caught the last of a dying breed back during her tour in Europe... during the Second World War.
"A fitting name miss Gypsy. You certainly move like one of them. I wonder if you like the song "Into the Night" by Santana and Mister Kroeger? A nice little tune about dancing as it were. At any rate, Rennia or as they used to call me, Ren, works just fine." Rennia watched the woman light up a cigarette and she chuckled softly. "You know they say those things will kill you. So they say anyway. I've seen plenty of people who smoke and they're still kicking so..." The demoness shrugged before chuckling softly. It wasn't something she often partook in. Smoking just wasn't her thing. Then again killing people with a bow or a sniper rifle, or even working on a sixty seven stingray, was not often something people did as a past time, unlike her.
"So what is someone like you, versed in old time rock and roll, doing out here in a club like this huh? I suppose out here in Russia there aren't too many places that have dance floors for Rock though. There's a Hard Rock Cafe or two... but they're not really dance clubs are they?" She offered another smile before she leaned back, looking towards the ceiling of the club. "At any rate, it's a pleasure to meet you miss Gypsy."
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 14, 2011 17:18:12 GMT -5
Gypsy grinned when she said that she certainly had the moves of a gypsy. She puffed on her cigarette, and swayed the beat, almost unconsciously. She was very familiar with the song, and indeed did love it.
"I do know that song. I dance to it often, actually. I also love 'Why Don't You and I'" Gypsy smirked at her. Ren, it was then. She looked up at her next comment about the smoking. Yeah, but it wouldn't kill her, she mused. "So they say. But I have this feeling these won't be the thing that does me in"
A solid oak stake...or any stake really, would do the trick though. As would sunlight, and fire. She turned to the bar, and ordered another drink, and ordered one for Ren as well. No vodka. She gave her the glass, while she thought about the question. She bit her tounge ring, and let out a small breathe.
"Russia's the only place I haven't been to. I was born in England, and spent most of my life in Canada, or Greece. In these last few years, I've been doing alot of traveling. It was just Russia's turn. I do a turn of the night life, and scenery. As for this bar? I was bar-hopping. I was gonna try the Hard Rock Cafe after this, if you'd like to join me"
Gypsy's eyes searched the club for a clock, and it was over ten feet away. But Gypsy could still read it. 1:30 A.M. Gypsy still had lots of time before she had to be in her hiding place to avoid the sun. She set up a hiding place wherever she went, and it was her safe hole if she ever went back to the country, which she did often.
"It's a pleasure meeting you, but I must ask. You look like you're headed to a Goth convention, what in the world are you doing in a pop club?"
She didn't mean to sound rude, she was just usually more honest then others. And Gypsy liked the outfit Ren was wearing, it just looked so out of place in this night club. Gypsy looked down at her own attire, mostly because she couldn't remember what she was wearing, and she saw boots, jeans, black shirt. Worked. She looked a lot more in place here then Ren did.
Last Edit: Sept 14, 2011 17:19:47 GMT -5 by Gypsy Winters
Post by Rennia Trayvold on Sept 14, 2011 17:43:13 GMT -5
Rennia took the glass as it was offered, turning it about like she had the last before taking a drink of it. Unlike the last one she didn't down this one in one go. She half-nursed it as she listened to Gypsy talk. So the woman had been many places, but not Russia. Rennia herself was quite well traveled, though a lot of that had to do with her occupation and lifestyle.
"Wonderful places. I often like the English accent. Something about it was always so sexy. Boys and girls both. Myself I've been all over as well, but I'm afraid I consider my home to be the States." She chuckled softly after admitting that. "Yeah, I know I'm a yank right? One of those bloody fat, ignorant Americans right? The ones who can't even name the continents? Hate to disappoint you, but not everywhere is as bad as the huge cities that dot our coasts. Up in the North they have a good education system there. Quite respectable really."
"As for joining you in the Hard Rock Cafe... I would love to. Admittedly I've not been to the ones in Russia. Just about everywhere else, but getting around Russia's never been very high on my priority list. However, I would never turn down an offer to enjoy a bit of the past that will hopefully never truly die." The demoness offered another respectful bow of her head to the woman, a sign that she approved of the woman's taste.
"I suspect, Miss Gypsy, that I wear this get up, for a reason all to similar to why it won't be smoking that does you in. One must learn to blend in, even if it does mean sticking out." She chuckled before draining the rest of her glass. "Though I don't think we're...exactly... the same." She nodded towards the clock. "I for one don't need to be in bed when the sun comes up."
Post by Gypsy Winters on Sept 16, 2011 12:29:31 GMT -5
She liked this woman. She considered her home the States? Gypsy's smile spread as she named off all the typical American stereotypes, but Gypsy didn't think she was like that. She rather liked the States, she just didn't understand the law, and the way it was run. Then again, Gypsy had never liked guns. She never got the point of them. Why kill someone with a tiny piece of metal that might not even kill them when you can just rip out their throat? C'mon now.
She turned her eyes towards Ren when she said that she would love to join her in the Hard Rock Cafe, and those eyes slightly widened when she said she wore the outfit for the same reason smoking wouldn't kill Gypsy. So the woman was a lot smarter then Gypsy had originally thought. She liked that. Gypsy's eyes flicked to the clock as hers did. But if they weren't exactly the same, then what was she? She turned eyes burning with curiosity on the woman, but she thought it was rude to ask what she was. Once people figure out Gypsy had to be in bed by sun up, they usually figured out what she was.
"I don't have to be in bed for a few hours yet. I still have a few hours to play."
That sounded dirty, didn't it? Meh. She drained her own glass, threw it up and caught it,smiling lightly to herself. She slammed it on the table, and turned towards the door. Turning her blue eyes back to Ren, she gave her a "Are you coming?" kind of look, and waited with an odd little smile on her face.
Gypsy's smile snapped to a snarl as she felt someone's hand on her ass, and a tiny flash of fangs had the idiot backing away quickly, nearly wetting himself. She made her eyes flash black, just for a little more incentive, before looking back at Ren with the same beautiful blue eyes, and smile she had before. She hated when people touched her without asking, or when people stared at her when she wasn't doing anything. She was an odd little vamprye, that was for sure. She watched Ren for another moment, before turning toward the door. She grabbed her coat and guitar, and put them both on, before stepping into the falling snow.
