Downtown Eyes of the Beholder

[Elias Warren Baker]

The Urban Nights Bar & Bistro
Mood Music​

A crystal cut whisky glass swayed gently through the air, the bar's soft white glow fading into the glass' caramel contents and backlighting the ornate etchings on the other side. With a careful grace the glass dipped through the air to the rhythm of tonight's entertainment - a dark haired beauty, from a place far enough east that Elias had never even heard of the place in his day, sat behind a sleek black piano that reflected the rounded edges and pressed suits of the restaurant around her. Beside her was a tall, dark man - who reminded him very much of his best Tobacco harvester - with a strange, J-shaped instrument he vaguely recalled hearing about after he was embraced. Elias only knew it was called a saxophone because the host had mentioned it earlier in the evening.

The kindred's eyes followed the curves of the pianist's neck, his eyes focusing on her slow pulse as she gave herself completely into the music. She was, without doubt, the top of a short pyramid for him. She served her patrons with elegance and grace...he could only imagine what her blood tasted like. Elias tucked his lip and turned away, chuckling to himself before taking a down what was left in his glass. The nectar passed over his cold tongue like a river of cinders, though the blush of life dulled the taste of char that usually overcame his kind when they consumed mortal refreshment. Elias suppressed the curl of his nose and placed the glass to the side, tapping the top and signaling the bartender for another.

As the next glass of emptiness was poured, Elias spun carefully in his chair - and he caught a dulled glimpse of himself in the black, mirror-like floor of The Urban Nights. He almost blended into the darkness of the floor and if it weren't for the small bits of silver hanging from his Austin Suit he may as well have been a shadow. He paused for a moment, wondering if such style would be fit for stalking his new target.

Elias' eyes lifted from the floor and peered through the dim lighting of the restaurant, his blood rousing so that his eyes could peer through the darkness with the ease of a nocturnal predator. Sitting at a table near the wall farthest from the bar was the man he'd come to Santa Noche prepared to embrace for the greater good of his cause, Jean-Charles Rayne. Wealthy, connected and a man with a crow's eye for the intricacies of architecture...the perfect candidate for not only the Ventrue, but The Architects of the Monolith.

Even if he was of foreign blood.

But things had changed since he first began following the man. Jean-Charles was aging and the controversies surrounding the airport had led some to put distance between themselves and the once illustrious artist. At first it seemed like it would be the broken spoke in his current designs and yet here he was, his eyes having drifted not too far from the tree. Sitting alongside the balding, mustached Jean, his overly powdered wife and their entourage of prospective art gallery investors was the girl with the wildfire hair who'd garnered his attention. She had been little more than another mortal on his radar at first, but as his long nights watching had moved on he found himself rethinking his grand design.

The men at the table may have come to speak with her father, but they stayed for the rush of blood flowing to their thighs. Adeline Rayne was a lightning storm where her father was an old, busted windmill. She was already stirring up something awful from what'd he'd made some mortals tell him. Founded herself a business, grew something herself and she had an eye for the artistic - plus she was young and gorgeous. Mortal men couldn't hardly resist themselves a mortal woman, let alone a kindred one. But he wasn't betting the farm yet, not on her.

Not just anyone had the...grits to turn unlife from curse to gift. Jean-Charles had squandered his chance to be useful to the cause by making ignorant, stupid decisions with who he decided to gamble on. Adeline was...well she was an unknown player in things. He needed to test the water, test her.

"Hunter, 'mere a second for me" Elias turned back to the bar and waved over the bartender, who finished cleaning a glass before placing it carefully on the shelf and approaching,

"Decided to make it a double, sir?"

Elias gave a flawless fake chuckle, "Nah boy, I got a favor to ask." turning back toward the Rayne's, Elias continued with his high-class Carolina drawl, "Walk your eyes up over to the far side of the building there, you see that fine young lady sitting there. One with that fiery red hair who looks ready to die of boredom?"

Hunter paused a moment before giving a short whistle, "Uh, yes sir I do. Beautiful...and uh young."

"Oh come now don't insult a man whose been tippin you so well" Elias laughed, giving Hunter a friendly slap on the arm, "now listen, listen...how bout you get one of them pretty waitresses to bring her over something nice. Good glass of wine, that'd be nice - oh and uh you got a pen? Give me a napkin."

Hunter fumbled behind the bar for a moment but produced both, which Elias took and quickly wrote a note with before passing it back. "Send that over to"

The bartender looked at the note, chuckled and went to do as Elias asked. Soon a glass of wine would make its way over to Adeline along with a note scrolled in cursive.

From your new friend at the bar.

 

[Adeline Rayne]

Caught within a gaggle of men whose conversation could put even the most hyperactive child to sleep, Luci found herself hyperfocused on the ambient music which drifted through the air from tickled ivories and pushed back every yawn which threatened to break free from her otherwise dutifully manicured expression. Inoffensive, with a steady, almost too easy smile, it would be her eyes which were the dead giveaway to her state of boredom and loathing for those around her, but few even glanced that far north for it to be an issue noted.​

​

Father had insisted on her presence, just as he had insisted upon the perfectly formed black evening gown with its sweeping neckline and all too thin straps that made her want to gag. There was nothing spectacular about the design, it wasn't the least bit comfortable to wear, and around such company as her father kept it made her feel like a show pony. He had assured her that her presence here was necessary, that it would build upon her studies to see such meetings play out, but she figured it had more to do with keeping that tight leash he'd held since her return from New Zealand. Rarely out of sight, never out of mind. That or she was playing a role parallel to an escort, something sweet to look at to soften the deals.​

​

An unexpected shudder ran along her spine at such a thought, alongside the feeling that she was being watched. Well, she supposed she was. But for a moment that sensation felt a little different.​

​

She lifted a hand and maneuvered some stray hair back behind her ear, revealing the one act of rebellion she'd gotten away with for that evening. Father hated her choice in earrings, ever insisting that diamonds ought to be worn, or something akin to such. But the golden swords which dangled below her lobes were a personal favourite of hers. He hadn't noticed them yet, if he had she'd have known, so she kept that victory tucked away in her pocket for the time being and turned her head in the direction of the bar. Eyes which had previously been sent their way drifted back to some other sight; after a few moments she returned her own focus back to the pianist.​

​

Snippets of conversation drifted into her ears, talks of a dockside renovation which was in truth relatively small game where her father was concerned was brought to the forefront. Much to her surprise he seemed invested, though given the spectacle that had been Hap International she supposed it wasn't too far fetched. Take a little while for the salt to settle.​

​

She was made aware of a question directed her way by one of her father's carnivorous associates when drink and note were passed along by one of the waitresses. A beauty in and of herself, though would such an establishment settle for any less? As she peered down at the note, the first semblance of a true smile curled upon her lips that evening, though she was swift to school it down. Taking a moment to first inhale its scent, she took a brief sip before realizing that all eyes at the table were upon her.​

​

For the life of her, Luci could not recall the question. asked. Her eyes shifted from the man who had asked it, to her father, then back again.​

​

"I apologize," she retorted after mentally composing herself, "Could you please repeat the question?" Her voice, though decidedly of the North East, held a twinge of foreign undertones picked up from her rather cloistered upbringing. It was light, some might argue dainty in that moment. Unlike most who hailed from New York she didn't project herself loudly, yet she knew how to make herself heard all the same.​

​

The conversation resumed, and somehow Luci found herself drawn into it despite her best attempts to remain on the edge. Apparently her father was intent upon her involvement in the up and coming dockside project, despite the fact she was barely through her first year of college, and the one attempt she made to quell these plans was met with a carefully veiled glare from the Rayne patriarch. Clearly it wasn't a debate to have with present company.​

​

She gave herself a few minutes, so as to ensure the two did not seem interconnected, and then excused herself from the table under the guise of freshening up in the restroom. Whether by conscious decision or subconscious whims, she made a point of passing by the bar on her way there.​

​

Elias Warren Baker​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Elias observed carefully, the fresh and undrunk glass of whiskey twirling in his hand, while the waitress brought over the ordered drink to his new interest. He couldn't help but smile when he noticed her fumble with whatever pointless questions were being prodded at her from the mass of sweaty mortals beside her. Soon enough she found herself roped into conversation, her father leaning in and using the slightest touch of the shoulder or glare over the table to force her into answering...but it hardly took the eyes of a predator to see through it all. The way her form pressed back into her chair, how her eyes averted whenever she could manage. She wanted to pull away from the conversation, from her father...that was something he could use.

Before long Adeline Rayne found whatever reason she could fabricate out of the horse shit conversations to leave the table. She stood and marched through the dim light, past the pianist and across the dim lights of the bar. Her destination was obviously not the bar but somewhere beyond it, where too didn't matter. What mattered was if she stopped.

"Excuse me, miss" Elias called out to her in a voice like a southern breeze, "but I'm just dying to know if that wine took the edge off whatever conversation them boys were boring you with"

He flashed the most genuinely human smile he could produce, leaning into the bar and forcing another sip of ash flavored whiskey down his throat, "cause I do think you look like you could use another"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

It was as though a weight had lifted the moment she excused herself from the table and began the long walk across the luxurious room, her previously stiffened shoulders eased up, and she took a brief amount of time to linger beside the pianist, as much to admire as to stall. She watched the woman's fingers grace the keys, envious of the talent she'd worked so hard to achieve, before turning and continuing on her way.​

​

As her heeled feet brought her past the bar, a pleasant enough voice reached out to garner her attention. The Southern drawl was a welcome respite from the busy city slickers and French tones of her most common acquaintances, whose fast paced world was at times dizzying and intrusive. She slowed herself to a halt, turning to face him and taking the time to truly study his visage. He was older than she, both in appearance and presence, one might even argue world-weary, yet unlike the older gentlemen at her father's table she didn't feel all that put off by it. Maybe because he was actually acknowledging her, and not simply her assets.​

​

A short glance was made toward the table, before she let out the slightest of sighs that ordinarily might have gone unnoticed and stepped closer to the bar proper. How long could she remain absent, the girl wondered. Long enough, surely, to repay the favour of a drink?​

​

She made a loose gesture to the bartender, indicating for two drinks, and slipped into one of the plush leather seats. "You have exquisite taste in wine," she finally retorted, as though only just remembering she even had a voice, "I appreciate the distraction." For a moment a look of consideration crossed her expression, as she contemplated the best method of introduction. Formal might have been best, given the setting, but formal was all that the evening had been thus far, and what a mighty uncomfortable evening it had been. She was sick and tired of hearing her name on the lips of crass old men with vile thoughts, and so as she extended her hand out toward him to make his acquaintance it was her favoured pseudonym which graced her lips.​

​

"Luci; Who might you be?"​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

The moment the woman's curiosity let her guard down and her eyes made contact with his, he had her. He could have roused his blood and turned her mind into a soft, clay ball that he could mold and shape into whatever he wanted - at least within the bounds of the night. But he didn't, that wouldn't suit his purpose nor would it allow him the genuine company of a sophisticated lady. So instead he twisted his corpse into a warm smile and gentle clasp of her hand, one that turned into a careful lean - like the the footfalls of a stalking wolf - ending with a kiss to the back of her hand.

"Elias Baker - just a very humble, very charmed man" he said, withdrawing in measured pace before gesturing towards the bartender, "so humble that I couldn't even pick the wine myself, Hunter over there is the man with the prim, proper pallet."

It was in that moment, looking at the gorgeous woman, that his eyes caught sight of the gold embers sparkling behind the waves of fiery hair. He focused in and...no...were those? Dangling from her ears were two swords, points sharp and if he hadn't known better he'd say she was sporting the colors of his clan already. His internal self smiled, that was just too good not to chuckle at - his Malkavian friend would surely have something smart to say of it.

But Elias didn't mention it for now, taking the drink that Hunter passed to him before speaking, "if I was a betting man, I'd wager those men over there aren't listening to a damn thing you had to say. Seems like those city boys like to hear themselves talk."

 

[Adeline Rayne]

Certainly, there was more to this man than he was letting on. His verbal humility was most definitely at odds with the way in which he held himself, there was a confidence which could not be faked, a self-assurance which had been lacking at the table of circle jerking yes-men who craved the validation of one another. In many ways he mirrored her patriarch, strong against the tide of weak upstarts, one who peaked curiosity - though whether that curiosity was well placed remained to be seen. Yet the man before her was no Jean-Charles, and for that she was most grateful.​

​

He took her hand lightly, in many ways keeping the ball of freedom in her court, and brought it up to his lips in a gesture she very rarely witnessed in these modern, trying times. Kisses on the cheek by way of greeting was common place in her sphere, more often than not they never actually even bothered to grace skin, more a gesture than any true intimacy. This one act caught her momentarily off guard, for as charming as it was it roused within her some small amount of suspicion that she couldn't quite place. As unexpected as it was, it was over before it had begun and her hand languidly returned to its place at her side. In its place, a name.​

​

"Well, Mister Baker, you needn't unveil all of your secrets at once," she offered with a small yet surprisingly genuine smile as he confessed of the wine, a light shake of her head tousling her hair, "Though I daresay delegation is a crucial skill to have." She turned her gaze over to Hunter for a mere moment, though the man was understandably refraining from hovering too closely to understand the cause for such a look, and then returned her attention to Elias.​

​

As talks returned to the table she'd crept away from, Adeline resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She lifted the wine glass to her lips once it came into her possession, letting the flavours settle upon her tongue as she mulled over his words. Then the loosest of shrugs graced her shoulders. It wasn't until the glass had returned to the bartop that she gave voice to her thoughts.​

​

"Why listen to the daughter when the father holds authority supreme?" she queried rhetorically, running a fingertip around the rim of the glass absentmindedly; though her eyes were set upon Elias himself, there was a faraway glaze present there which instead had her looking right through him. "What Jean-Charles wants he finds a way to get... No matter cost, nor distance." The latter particularly struck true, though that wound was still a little too fresh to give more than the briefest of thoughts. "Heaven forbid I reason with him in such esteemed company as he keeps."​

​

Another sigh escaped her lips, this one heavier than the former, and once again she found herself shaking her head.​

​

"Forgive me; complaining to a stranger is rather unbecoming, isn't it? Tell me instead, Mister Baker, what is it that brings a gentleman such as yourself to a city like this?" Santa Noche was not on her list of must-see destinations, if she had it her way she'd already be back in New Zealand, or paving a path through some other far off land. From what she had seen thus far, Elias could do far better than a city such as this.​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Elias could hardly recall the last time he had sat and shared a conversation with a mortal woman of Luci's style and class, it was not his usual self to feast on those of the upper crust. This was a sort of, treat for him, though he could feel the burning in his guts - the pain of claws slipping over entrails as the beast inside urged him to sink his fangs deep into her flesh and drink until his unending hunger was sated. He drowned that hunger in a flood of crematorium flavored drink, the excellence of mortal taste lost on the old kindred for centuries now. Again he stifled any visible reaction to the taste of the mortal beverage, already regretting its vial taste when his body regurgitated it later in the night.

He did his best to refocus his mind to Luci, allowing himself to drift into a gaze as she ruffled her wild hair with a shake of her head and spared a parting glance to the bartender. Where the subtle twinkle in her eyes required nothing of her as she turned back to Elias with a mix of caution and interest, the Kindred had to think of every step as if it were a carefully scripted dance. His gaze was intense, but curious, with his eyes squinted just enough to convey sincerity. His head tilted ever so slightly - rousing his blood to bring a blush of life to his eyes so that they might become just lubricated enough to add a gemstone sparkle to his emerald eyes.

And then he hung on every word, picking apart the sentences and cycling them through what he already knew of her and her family. Now, on que, a faint smile and a stroke of the chin to let her know she was heard - and heard she truly was...though for reasons beyond what a mortal would ever understand.

Then she mentioned her father's name and his mind puppeteer the body without flaw, a slight widen of the eyes - a cock of the head towards her father's table that stopped just short as if coming to some conscious realization. He played the part of a surprised mortal down to the slight gap in his jaw, but he let her finish.

Then when she changed the subject, summoning his name and asking him of his business in Santa Noche, he allowed himself a split second before answering - shaking his head and mimicking a surprised chuckle.

"Um yes well, uh let's just say I was dead tired of livin' in the South - but I'm sorry excuse me..." he leaned inward, his voice dropping low and only assumed she knew what he was about to ask. You are the daughter of THE Jean-Charles, aren't you? Could I meet him? Please allow me to grovel at his feet...but instead

"...are you the same Lucie who started that Prosperitea tea company?" he had added a little extra drawl to the name just to add to the charm factor of his question, "I had no idea, thought I'd recognize you sooner. Aren't ya'll based out of, oh where was it...Australia or some other? Watchya doing here in this city?"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

For the first time since her return to the States, Adeline Rayne was surprised to discover someone who was actually, genuinely listening to what she had to say. There was no pandering, no rush to cut her off, or chime in with some unrelated comment. Perhaps that came with the territory of southern charm, it was said that things were more languid down there, that time could simply be enjoyed. Certainly she doubted it was the content of her chatter that held his attention, though he listened all the same.​

​

The soaring sensation she was presently feeling as a result was marred only by the look of realization which snatched over his expression at the mention of her father's name. Just like that, Adeline knew she had ruined the whole affair in one unintentional slip of the tongue, and some of the visible tension in her shoulders returned, body primed in anticipation of the usual change which overcame those who were aware of his accomplishments.​

​

And there it was, apparent in how swift he was to dismiss the query and turn the attention back to her words, there it was, that excuse me... She inhaled a short breath which was held in wait, as though by doing so she could prolong the inevitable and enjoy the moment a little while longer, before Jean-Charles took even that from her.​

​

Imagine her surprise then when talks turned instead to Prosperitea, the social media storm she'd conjured up during her travels and which still to this day was a passion project of hers, despite the distance from its center of operations. For once, Jean-Charles' name had proven something of a boon, though never in a million years would she have expected such.​

​

"I... Well, yes..." Well and truly caught off guard, for a moment - just a moment - it appeared as though she might cry. Of course she didn't, she pulled back all of that unexpected emotion and reined herself in, but it temporarily flashed over her expression all the same. "You know of Prosperitea?" Her head tilted lightly to one side as she regarded him once more, almost sizing him up. As though looking for something she hadn't noticed the first time she'd taken in his visage. "Our core demographic has always been young women, I don't think I've ever met someone who did not fit such a bill..."​

​

Whatever suspicion she might have had though was wiped away with a sense of humility instead, truly Adeline Rayne had never expected her brand to have such reach. A slight knot in her stomach revived some of the tenderness of that unhealed wound, prompting a growing frustration she thought she'd had a hold on. For a second, just a second, her gaze shifted toward her father sharp as a spear, the kind of look that you felt in your core, where the hairs on the back of your neck would prickle and stand on end. Did she want him to know she was glaring at him?​

​

Given how quickly she looked away again, and composed herself once more, she knew the answer was no. Fly below the radar, that was the best method when it came to dealing with her patriarch. And keep her little rebellions where she could. Instinctively, her hand lifted to touch one of the miniscule swords for strength. Then she remembered she hadn't fully answered Elias' question.​

​

She met his gaze with a smile, eyes softening. "New Zealand, though I'm looking to bring some of the production and distribution here too. If nothing else, it will broaden our reach, and make shipping internationally that much simpler." For a moment she contemplated ignoring the last part of his query all together, she had already complained enough in his presence for one evening, and truly she did not know enough about him to risk him being some friend of her father's. For this to all be some ruse. She wouldn't put it past her old man.​

​

"I was brought back for schooling," she explained, lifting the glass to her lips to take a sip as she mulled her words over. "I may have over extended my gap year." A quick grin spread over her lips at those particular words, partially hidden by the glass as she took one more sip before settling it back down to the bartop.​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

The art of mortal conversation was a tiring exercise for those of the kindred blood, but its grace and enjoyment had not yet been lost on the beast that was once Elias Baker. He enjoyed the subtle, joyful surprise in her voice just as much as he lusted for the sanguine delicacy that rushed to her cheeks as she held back tears. Elias leaned further back into his stool and rested an elbow on the bar, his chin coming to rest in hand while he mused to himself about how well the dance was being performed. And Luci was not at all disappointing for her part in the conversation.

Not only was she rising to the bait he was laying, but she was providing him useful information - adding to the portfolio of considerations he needed. She had aspirations, wanted to expand her business and that - he was sure - would hardly be the extent of what she wanted to reach for. He wondered how the elder Rayne played into all of this. He doubted a woman so invested into the visions of her company would have come back for schooling, especially with the success her company had seen. No, she was being kept on a leash and that was what made her tick.

She wanted to feel free. So he obliged, allowing the conversation to take its slow course just like they always had when he was still a living, breathing human being.

"Brought back, huh?" Elias asked rhetorically, allowing his corpse to display a crooked, knowing smile, "my folks always insisted on schooling for me as well. Never was a good student myself - but I rode on through it for them" a flat lie. He had attended school of his own accord after the British surrendered at Boston, but that wasn't exactly a story to be told in present company.

But Elias said it with stonewall conviction, his eyes coming to rest in a soft gaze with Luci's - his drink gently spinning in hand. "Of course I don't use that schooling as much anymore, turned to investing in younger futures sometime ago. My ear is always to the ground on what ya'll more beautiful generation are up to" he allowed the comment to serve as both an answer to her question on how he'd heard of her company and let the compliment rest where it was before offering a perfectly staged smile and sitting straighter up - his eyes returning to her father's table.

The lot of old men seemed far too engrossed in their own baboonery to pay any know how to the bar - and Jean-Charles seemed to have everything but his daughter on his mind. Likely she had served the purpose of getting those men right and talkative, but sooner or later he expected someone to pick up the scent.

For now, he turned back to Luci and brought his drink up to his lips - mimicking a drink without taking any past the lips. He couldn't afford to press his luck with the Blush of Life, sooner or later his undead guts would reject the living's poison. "If I were so bold, I'd wager I know exactly how you feel. Folks aren't listening to your big ideas. But an intelligent woman like yourself? Don't need no old timer telling you how the world is run. You're of a different breed, you know what you want and how to get it...but family is family after all."

He allowed himself to spare a long stare at the sword's dangling from each of her ears this time, not trying to mask where his attention was momentarily drawn. "I do hope that you are at least studying something you are passionate about?"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

Pieces were beginning to slot together the more the man spoke, culminating in a juxtaposing strengthening and softening of any suspicions she'd had up until this point. On the one hand this all could have simply been serendipitous, a chance meeting that seemed to benefit both parties in vastly different ways. For her an excuse to linger away from the oppressive table and sit in modest freedom for a time, and for him? Well he had seemed pleasantly surprised to run into her. What else he might get out of such an unexpected encounter was beyond her comprehension, though. She wasn't really one for speculation.​

​

On the other hand though, he could have known who she was all along. Could have had eyes and ears on the ground, and come here with an agenda, a hope of meeting with her. Or, perhaps even more cynical, her mind once more drifted back to the possibility that he was in truth here to become acquainted with her father. Or, similarly, at his behest. Cozy up with the daughter, heighten her expectations, before crushing those dreams and forcing her back to reality. Jean-Charles' reality.​

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That, however, was bordering more on paranoia. Paranoia was not something she would indulge in, it was a dangerous beast and had led to more than its fair share of downfalls throughout humanity's existence. By her father's hand, Adeline was already fairly isolated - she did not need to isolate herself further with such toxic thoughts. She let out an internalized sigh, a breath she hadn't remembered holding, forced herself from her thoughts.​

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"Legacy is everything," she retorted with something of a sing-song tone, yet in a fashion that resembled one reading a quote more than waxing poetic, it was a familiar phrase she'd heard muttered countless times throughout her life, and not just from the lips of her father. The Raynes were all about furthering their good name, their lineage, of broadening the horizons of those who came next... So long as it was done in an agreeable fashion, of course. Heaven forbid the likes of Adeline try to pave their own way.​

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"Did you? Study something you were passionate about, I mean?" Deflection wasn't a typical tactic of hers, truth be told when conversing with someone like Elias, someone who truly wanted to talk with someone and not at them, she was happy to oblige with the continual back and forth, answering most of what came her way. ​

​

This time, though, the idea of admitting just how under thumb she had allowed herself to become was bordering on humiliating. As much as she had indeed paved her own way, flown the coop, this songbirds wings had found themselves snipped.​

​

From the corner of her eye she watched as her father finally peered toward her empty seat, no doubt a momentary lull in conversation had all the more highlighted her absence. In response she turned somewhat in her seat, setting her back to the table in hopes that she could evade notice just a little while longer. But she knew that time was ticking, and soon the pleasantries would have to cease.​

​

Adeline wasn't sure if she was ready to put on that fake smile just yet.​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

It wasn't lost on Elias, the gentle dodging of his question. Smart. She was being cautious, not giving away too much out of fear that he was...what? He quietly smiled to himself, taking an odd pleasure in the guessing game she was presenting to him. It was not often he was able to engage in such mental puzzle solving during conversation, at least not in such a manner as calm as this all had been for him. When interacting with other kindred were had to be careful with what was spoken and unspoken - you never could tell which of your kind could smell your lies or which had plans for your downfall.

With mortals there was no such fear and he'd forgotten how fun it was to speak with them without having first violated their minds. But then there it...Legacy is everything. Something dark crept up inside the masquerading monster sitting beside Luci and a dark, fanged grin slid open somewhere deep inside his withered soul. There it was, the beginnings of where this little test would begin - the crack in the armor he would pry his claws into and see how far he could peel it back.

"Business, for the family...but art and architecture for myself. It was always a shame to me how people stopped caring about creating something from the soul and heart...they'd all rather make something to please everyone else. If I was gonna have to do business cause my father wanted it, then I was gonna be damned if I was gonna do it some building that was copy-pasted from the last" Elias watched as Luci's eyes shifted back to her father's table before her back turned away and her head almost sank into the bar itself. It was then that he let himself slither closer, a gentle hand reaching up and folding away a stray strand of red hair back over her ear - his knuckles brushing against the dangling sword.

"If I'd known more at the start I'd have just given up on my father's business altogether. Focused on my art and designing from the beginning" a gentle nudged hers and Elias pointed to the shining mirror at the back of the bar, where both of them were reflected in the faint glow of the bar lights, "because what I learned is that legacy isn't something your given or maintain. It's something you build for yourself."

Elias stared deep into the reflected eyes of Luci, "and you have a legacy of your own to build, don't you Luci?" a warm smile, "and you ain't gonna let some old man who can't build a decent airport get in the way of that, are ya?"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

Architecture.​

​

Something about that word was universally jarring for Adeline. Though none of the family businesses truly suited her desires, she certainly would have preferred to be pushed toward the fashion industry of her forefathers than forced to follow in her father's footsteps. Still if it was a passion for another, who was she to judge them for such? Architects were a necessity to be sure, and some of the wonders they created were truly an awe to behold.​

​

It simply wasn't for her.​

​

His experiences seemed to oddly mirror her own, though at the same time they appeared antithetical too. She would much rather have pursued business as her major, heck even in doing so she might have been happier about minoring in architecture. Instead she'd had to plead to even minor in business at all, which was strange given the necessity of such. She was sure it was her father's way of trying to ensure the path she was locked into. Why couldn't he have pestered Tristan instead? Or tried to tempt one of the younger girls into enjoying it from a young age rather than springing it on Adeline at the tail end of her high school experience?​

​

She supposed in a way she ought to have been grateful, had this been any number of generations prior she might have been dismissed solely on her gender alone. That he was allowing her to further the line in such a concrete way was more than many could ask for.​

​

"Did you have his support, in the end?" she inquired as he spoke of his own little rebellions; at least he had been able to choose the form of business he dabbled in. Surely that was a victory in and of itself. As he reached out to tuck another stray strand of hair behind her ear, and shuffled closer, she could not help but become enveloped in his presence, peering at him through the mirror at his urging.​

​

It was all subtle enough that she didn't truly comprehend the sinister undertone of the words used, the persuasive nature of the man ahead of her. All she knew in that moment was that there was no way he was working for her father... Facade or no, none of his little minions would dare slander his good name, even if he was trying to catch her off guard. So was this genuine then? She held his gaze in the reflection, unknowingly mesmerized, and slowly but surely began to nod, as though words alone might break the spell.​

​

"He has his methods for keeping me grounded," came her response, quieter than before - a mere whisper in comparison to their previous talks - and if she hadn't already met his reflected gaze she might have looked away. She wanted to look away... "But he can't stop the inevitable." There was a confidence that crept in with that statement, despite the still-whispered tone. A fiery shine which entered her gaze, and a strengthening of her posture as she knew it to be true. Jean-Charles could halt her operations, he could do his best to tear it asunder, but Adeline was not the type to simply roll over and let it die. Not even under patriarchal scrutiny.​

​

Especially under patriarchal scrutiny.​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

"I had a feeling, you strike me as a fighter - I have a spot in my heart for fighters" Elias whispered, turning his gaze away from their reflections and allowing them to rest on the side of Luci's striking visage. "As for me, my father supported me because I gave him no other choice. He either accepted a son who did as he pleased - or died an old man with no one at the bedside."

Again the glint of the sword dangling from her ear caught his eye and he felt a chuckle escape his chest - it was all too good to be true. At last he allowed himself to make notice that he'd seen them, his eyes focusing in and his voice rising just a pitch to mimic a slight surprise,

"Oh well now, lookie there. Those are absolutely beautiful, you make them look right stunning." The sword and staff were the emblems of Clan Ventrue, a reminder that they alone could direct the politics of kindred affairs - whether the other clans accepted it or not. To see his new mark wearing such an emblem made him feel as if he'd just seen one of the visions that his Malkavian friend was always on about...maybe he was right in switching away from that withering Jean-Charles.

Even better than some sign, however, was the way in which Luci seemed to fall into a trance. There was no need to force his will upon her, charm and words alone were slowly swaying her into his favor. "Excuse me, Luci, if I can take a moment to be a bold sonofabitch" he said, making sure to rise his voice as if he were capable of such natural nervousness around prey animals, "I would hate for us to end our conversations with tonight. Could I see you again? We could discuss your business plans and how long you'd be stayin'...that is if you don't think you'd mind the company of a ole' county boy"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

Some of the fog began to lift when their reflected gazes went their separate ways, and the next inhale of air she took seemed to breathe life back into her body as though she had unknowingly been holding her breath. His words felt brazen as he mentioned the ultimatum he had placed before his own father, and in turn emboldened her slightly. Was that a thing that she could do? Would Jean-Charles settle for her paving her own path?​

​

He wasn't going to be alone on his death bed, he had three other children after all and a wife far younger than he. Would that change things? He already knew that the life he planned for her was not the life she wanted for herself, would placing a line in the sand make much of a difference?​

​

Truthfully, it wasn't even the fear of being cut off monetarily which had stayed her tongue these past months. Men like Jean-Charles had a way of moving people, and the last thing she wanted was to be cut off from her family. Tristan was a man in his own right, but her mother? He had her ear. And the younger two? They were still relative children.​

​

She blinked back to reality, and turned her head back toward him as he noted her earrings.​

​

"Were you afraid? When you drew that line in the sand?"​

​

Some would argue that fear was foolish, and for cowards, but over the years Adeline had realized it was quite the opposite. To fear was rational, to fear meant that there was something worth living for.​

​

Once more she found herself touching one of the golden swords which dangled from her earlobe, as much a distraction as to draw strength from its cool exterior. Her lips curled into a gentle enough smile at his compliments. "They are my favourite pair," she remarked, turning her head slightly to give him a better view of them.​

​

That was until he spoke again; then his tone garnered her complete attention, and she settled her gaze back upon his. Her head tilted just a touch to the left, unable to fully hide her curiosity as his first show of nervousness was made visible. Her response did not come immediately, instead she measured his words and her thoughts on such as she resisted the urge to peer back to her father's table. Such wasn't his choice to make.​

​

Slowly but surely she began to nod her head.​

​

"Yes... I think I should like that." She made to reach for a phone she didn't have on her person - the purse which held it remained behind at the table - before turning to gain Hunters' attention. "Might I bother you for a pen?" she inquired of the bartender, reaching over to pick up one of the napkins afterward. When the pen was acquired she wrote down her number, and then passed it along to Elias.​

​

"Feel free to contact me when you're next available. You were a breath of fresh air, Mr Baker, and for that I thank you."​

​

Time was ticking, and she couldn't afford for her father to take notice of the company she had found this evening. So with an internalized sigh she rose up from the stool, and gathered the remnants of her wine glass. Still though she lingered a moment more, not quite ready to return to the boys club.​

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

He thought for a moment on Luci's question, not having answered when she first posed it - instead distracting from it with the comment of her earrings and the pressing to see her again. Had he truly been afraid when he confronted his father? It had not happened in the way he had presented it to Luci tonight, but he and his father did eventually have their own little David & Goliath story. Fear was such a distant memory for him...he hadn't felt afraid of anything but the loss of his own unlife in so long that he wondered if he even really remembered what genuine human fear felt like. He had given up maintaining a connection to it so long ago in favor of becoming "God's answer to Sin" as his sire had so aptly put it.

"I'm so glad you think so. I truly consider myself no more than a dumb ole dixie dandy, myself - always prattling on" he said with a smile, testing her own comfort by gently placing a hand over her own, "I think you are the fresh air for me, darlin'. This city was starting to feel too big for a country boy like me but...I'm thinkin I might just be able to handle it with such beautiful, talkative company"

Elias held Luci's gaze for as long as she would allow, making a show of searching hers for some piece of his own humanity - which he knew he wouldn't find. For a brief second though, as he stared at her in the dim light of the bar, he could have swore he felt his own heart beat. Then he remembered what he was and the blush of life was roused by his blood so that his eyes glistened just that much more as he looked at her. A set of cold stones that only mimicked true beauty.

"And by the way" Elias commented, his eyes peeling away from hers as he allowed himself a brief gaze to the table of Jean-Charles and his gaggle of mortal imbecils, "yes, I was afraid" he said decidedly.

"But fear is natural - might be the one thing in the whole empty universe that everything shares. Even the angels and the dead can be afraid, I reckon..." he paused just long enough to let his eyes meet Luci's once more and the fake warmth he'd summoned to his hands grew tighter as his grip became firm, but only cautiously so, "...but you ain't gonna let a little fear stop ya, are ya Wild Fire?"

 

[Adeline Rayne]

"Were you? Prattling on? And here I thought we were having a pleasant conversation." A grin formed upon her lips as she spoke, seemingly unphased with the touch of his hand on hers. A breath of fresh air indeed, it was nice to be in the presence of one who acknowledged her as a being in her own right, who - at least on the surface - wasn't simply hoping to get something out of her, or her familial ties. If Elias Baker was hoping for some long con, then at least he was making it worth her while in the meantime. ​

​

Once more she found her gaze set upon his, mesmerized with unintended enchantment. There was something to be said about holding such an intimate position, more often than not she had a habit of avoiding eye contact all together, making it only when necessary, when it was expected of her, and no longer. It made her feel vulnerable otherwise, as though another could peer into the very depths of her soul.​

​

She watched as he spoke and peered across to where her father sat, only to find him snatching her gaze once more as quickly as it was broken. The tighter grip over her hand should have been a red flag, but it was blocked by the intensity of his words.​

​

"Fear is a catalyst," she whispered in response, by way of answer,. "In the right hands, at least..." No... Adeline Rayne would not let that fear hold her back, to do so would be the death of her. At the very least, the loss of her independence. For too long she had rolled over and succumbed to the wishes of her father, and in doing so she had felt pieces of herself breaking away. Some of those pieces seemed to be making their way back to her, crawling at a snails pace of course but crawling all the same.​

​

Knowing that the time for pleasantries to end had come, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a brief kiss upon his cheek. As quickly as she did she drew back, offered a far meeker smile, and then broke away from man and bar, making sure to grab her wine glass on the way. She didn't look back as she approached the table and settled back into her seat, the set of her shoulders a little stronger than before.​

​

"I see you've decided to grace us with your presence once more," came the unusually snarky comment from Jean-Charles, who peered past her to glare in the direction of the bar moments later. He paid particular attention to Elias, if indeed he remained there at all, before returning to his talks, his jaw a little firmer set than before.​

​

No doubt she wouldn't hear the end of this.​