Bloody Mary's Bar
Given to irony, Bloody Mary's Bar is decorated primarily in black and varying shades of red. From the black bench seats and chairs, black tables, black walls with chilling red blood flowing down them in a continuous manner, it's quite obvious why this bar has the name it does. Deep red mahogany makes up the floor and bar. Dangling red star lights illuminate the bar, lending to it's somewhat creepy look.
<A couple of poses were given as set, but unlogged by the logger.>
Desiree doesn't say anything for a long moment, sitting almost as still as the vampire seated across from her. Eyes remain on Michael's face, but they're elusive, almost haunted as she apparently contemplates how to answer his final question. Finally, she takes a breath and exhales. "I believe so, but … only time will tell. It was good to be alone, and I love walking along the shore at night." A pause, then, "I want to thank you for taking care of me after that … attack, and afterward. I figured you had people watching me in New York. It wasn't necessary, but I appreciate it nonetheless." Desiree sits back in her seat, eyes darting around the bar. Remembering a meeting she had with the King (albeit she doesn't know he's that), she asks softly, "Has Mr. Grant asked about me at all?" This is said a little nervously as Desiree takes a sip of her wine. The two are sitting toward the back of the bar, in the shadows…but, then, most of the bar is shadowy.
Shaking his head Michael smiles. "No. I haven't spoken with Mister Grant, but I haven't heard any word that he's been looking for you. And I suspect I have." He frowns a little as he studies Desiree. "There's no need to thank me.. I thought that much was obvious. Did you really think I'd do anything else?" He shrugs a shoulder taking a sip of his drink. "I should have been able to stop the attack in the first place. As for New York, I simply mentioned that you were my friend… I have a number of associates in New York, I thought they might keep an eye on you." He glances around the room. "Are you really that worried about Mister Grant?"
Bloody Mary's does good business in the city, be it from vampires or fangbangers, or, as they say, 'the curious'. Thus, the door of the establishment opening and closing again garners little attention, except for a couple of random eyes from those who simply have not yet found what they're looking for.
This particular vampire, once his presence is recognized, does gain some attention, and most of it in the form of looking away. There is no chance of the younger vampires who are using Mary's as a 'hangout' even remotely challenging the new Whip, and so discretion is certainly the better part of valour.
Marius sets cold blue eyes gazing across those gathered as he walks towards the bar and nods ever so slightly to the barkeep. A bottle of TruBlood is offered, and remarkably, the veteran accepts it. It's not done in insult, certainly— it was by his request.
Desiree nods regarding the need for thanks, but smiles at Michael. "It was appreciated. New York's not Dallas, and I guess I'm still just a Texas girl with ambitions— or delusions of grandeur." Her laugh is soft, too, and almost musical. "I don't know if worried is the exact word for it, but he did ask me to do something for him, and I … never did. I kind of avoided it by claiming to be too busy with the recital to go into AVL." She pauses. "I feel a little cowardly for that. I guess I'm not as much of a drama junkie as I thought I was." Sheepish, that last. "Anyway, I was more curious than worried. You've given me the impression Mr. Grant doesn't like to be … disappointed in people he asks to do favors for him." Desiree isn't talking loudly, but she's also not whispering. The flurry of "movement" in the atmosphere of the bar draws her attention, and her eyes watch the newest arrival much like she'd watched Michael's. Only this time there's no warm feeling. Instead, Desiree almost shivers, prompting her to ask, "Who's that man?—-the one who just sat down at the bar?" Covert glances are cast at the man, but it's never too long before she looks away.
Michael shrugs. "He asked a favour, if you did it or not is your choice… if you'd done it he'd have been… obliged to return it at some point, but he never seemed the type to take a refusal personally." He turns to look at Marius with a shrug, but he does study the man for a second, the blonde hair is what finally helps him decide, he almost seems to dismiss the man. "I'm not sure, although he does fit the description of one of Grants new Employees." Michael's been quite overt with his recent lack of interest in vampire politics, it's likely he'd do little more than give a polite word to Sheriff or even the King unless they came in an official capacity.
Marius stays out of politics. His is a single purpose position, and he likes it that way. Let others do what they will, and eventually, he will be called upon to do his job. Nothing more.
Nothing in particular draws his attention to the corner where the pair sit; there are more than a few vampire/sheep couplings in the bar. 'Couplings' as in 'seated together looking friendly'. Of course, there are different stages within the large-ish establishment as well.
None of his concern.
His gaze simply runs across the pair, his expression a study in neutral. Turning back to the bar, Marius hunches slightly and grips the bottle with a single hand, looking all the world like 'just one more vampire in the room for a drink', which is certain to draw attention from even 'the curious'. He's not on the Hunt, but rather.. well, hunting for something other than blood— information that these sheep may have.
The moment Desiree sees Marius' eyes pass over their table, she looks down, careful to mask her features to composed. She nods at what Michael says, remembering how the old vampire had told her before politics, especially vampire politics, didn't interest him. "It's always good to be informed of what others are doing, thinking," she says, finally, looking at Michael. "I know you can take care of yourself, and you know vampire society better than I do, but be careful. Please." There's concern in her tone. "Do you want another?" she asks, nodding to the bottle of True Blood he's nearly finished. "I'm going to get a refill, so I can get one for you." She rises from the table, movements concise and graceful. She doesn't look the typical fangbanger, and, so far, there hasn't been too much intimacy between Michael and her. They're different in that than other couples present. Whether or not Michael wants a refill, Desiree will head up to the bar, slipping onto a seat not far from where Marius sits. Again, there are covert glances, but hopefully nothing offending.
Michael nods to Desiree with a quiet chuckle. "Oh, I know what is happening as well as most, I simply don't get too involved. As for being careful I always am." He seems amused by the statement. "I didn't get to my age being anything else. Tell them the drinks are for me. I still get free drinks it seems." Mary seems to know how to treat her elders. He doesn't rise, although he does watch Desirees' movments to the bar subtly.
Marius doesn't need to cant his head to study the breather that has settled, however briefly, into the seat near his. Remnants of fang marks, however pale against the skin, show like a beacon to a vampire. A neon sign. All that is left for any vampire to do is to determine the status beyond that.
That is not his purpose this evening, here, however.
It is still the bottle that holds his gaze, even as he finally says something. "Speak, if you wish." His voice is low, the words carrying a German accent, and something of a .. command? Permission, perhaps?
"And I would ask something in return."
That soft voice sends a startling chill down Desiree's spine, but she doesn't flinch. Well, not really, just a slight intake of breath, and her head is turning to the man near her. She sees him in profile; a study in neutrality, impassive. Then, as if realizing she's staring at him, lowers her eyes. The bartenders are busy, forcing her to wait. Finally, "I was just curious. I've never seen you in here before," she says, her own words soft. "And I saw other people's reaction when you walked in." A pause. "What do you want from me?" Green eyes lift at the last, canting over her shoulder to where Michael sits, then back. "I'm just … a nobody."
Michael had intended to leave Desiree to her own devices, but the conversation with Marius proves too good an oppertunity to miss, he rises from his seat and slowly makes his way over, watching the conversation, when he finally arrives it's with the mask he wears so rarely, his features totally devoid of anything, it's more than the simple vampire coldness, it's the look of someone who's truly been dead so long they've forgotten what it means to be alive, his tone matches, there's no sign of any feeling or what he thinks in his words. "Good evening." He inclines his head to Marius. "I hear you're working for Miss Symon. I am Michael Isonzo. I wonder if you would be so kind as to let her know that I intend to honour the agreement I had with her predecessor, if she should feel the need to enact it." Yes he's being somewhat cryptic, and surprisingly formal for him. He turns his attention to the bar, apparently awaiting his drink, his features still those of a deadman.
Marius turns his head to the side, finally looking at the breather from anything but his periphery, and he nods, his expression still deadpanned neutral. Like Michael's expression, the windows of the soul show an empty room within, as far as humanity is concerned. Cold. Dead.
"I know. There is another.. lamb of whom I search."
Without looking back to the tables that had reacted when he entered, Marius inclines his head again, "You are observant. I have hope that you will have an answer for me."
Before Marius can go any further, however, Michael approaches. He looks up and accepts the nod of greeting with the same expression he's worn throughout, listening. Michael may discern a touch of.. irritation that flashes in the blue orbs, but he will certainly not correct a vampire in front of a vessel.
Ever.
"You will have to speak to her. She will be .. available in the coming evenings as work progresses on her new establishment. There, you may bring your willingness."
If they were alone, however.. things would have been somewhat different.
"Now.. I wish to know where may be found a breather named 'Mellie Cornett'."
Michael's approach is more startling than the man beside Desiree, and her head whips around as the elder speaks. She doesn't interrupt, eyes carefully lowered to indicate respect to both vampires. Despite this, Desiree is observant enough to note the slight change in Marius' expression, however brief. No attention drawn to the fact she did take note, just quietness until their conversation ends. Then, when she's questioned about Mellie Cornett… Desiree blinks, the name familiar, but not exactly well known. Then one of the waitresses saunters by, and thinks click. "The waitress? I've seen her working, but never talked to her much, other than to order drinks." Desiree licks her lips, looking thoughtful, trying to remember if anyone's mentioned anything to her since she came in. "I don't have a clue where she is, though," she explains to the cold man beside her. "I've been gone almost six weeks, now. I've not seen her tonight, at least. Nor heard anyone mention her whereabouts." Deciding that was more than an answer, Desiree stops herself from talking. "Sorry I couldn't help. I can keep an ear open, though, and let you know if I do hear anything?" It's a peace offering, of sorts.
Michael would have stopped that last sentence if he could, but again there's nothing, no flickers of feeling, or opinion to the ancient vampire as he looks to Desiree and then to Marius. "I have spoken to her several times, a typical fangbanger if memory serves." He shrugs a shoulder. "I can't say I've seen her for a while though, nor heard anyone mention her lately." He's something of a regular what with the free drinks, and the fact that he's not been feeding on humans for a while. "I can't say I'd given it any thought however. I had thought she may have become someones….. favourite. I hear some like to keep those they've claimed financially."
One of the amusing things about lambs is that they make more noise than is perhaps good for them. It's something Marius notices, and there is rarely a time when he doesn't use it to advantage.
"Yes." As the answer and request is part and parcel of his 'end the bargain', there is nothing that even remotely resembles a requirement for reciprocity. He's certain Michael is aware of this, even though the other is a study of impassivity.
The fact that she's a known 'fangbanger' arouses some interest, and there is .. a little cruel pleasure that reflects in the cold expanse of blue eyes. A common trollop, free to take, free to drain— a sheep who understands her proper place in the world.
"I would have heard if she was." The kings lamb would be all over it, and news like that always travels to his ear. "I am certain she is not. I will, then, continue to search."
The bottle before Marius is as of yet untouched, and finally, he brings it to his lips, letting the crimson liquid flow down his throat. Some of it spills from the side, tingeing his face with red rivulets. After the bottle is emptied, he puts it down with a *thunk*. "This is disgusting."
Desiree knows she babbles when she's nervous; it's something she's trying her best to overcome. "I don't think anyone's claimed her," she ventures, agreeing with Michael. "At least as I understand a claim works," she adds. A glance to Michael, but so far, no mention of any claim on /her/ either. That was never settled between them, at Desiree's preference. "I do hear some gossip, usually about hookups and all. There was nothing of that before I left, at least." Again, Desiree stops herself from saying more. "I should really head home," she murmurs. "I've a lot to do at the studio, and … I should go to the AVL tomorrow. I kind of left my boss there hanging. Ms. Baker probably wants to throttle me." A glance up at Michael as the bartender slides another drink to him. "I'll see you again. Soon." Just not yet. Her expression says she's just not ready. Marius can make of that what he will. "A pleasure, sir, and I'm sorry I couldn't help." The girl slips from the stool, turning away to the door. In moments, she's gone.
Michael nods to Marius. "As I said, I paid the woman little mind." He takes a look around the room. "I somehow get the feeling that few here will have many leads." He looks at Desiree for a moment, a smile forming, although it does nothing to add feeling to his features. "I look forward to it." He sighs as he takes a sip of his own blood his attention once more turning to Marius. "I agree, but it does the job well enough. Which in the long run is what really matters." He again inclines his head, once more it's a measured gesture, on intended to give away nothing more than required. "I suspect that you will wish to continue your search? I won't detain you any further."
As far as Marius is concerned, his conversation with the breather ended at the word 'yes'. She asked, he set her to a task. All other conversation is for the vampire before him.
"It is disgusting." The veteran is one that still prefers his meal kicking and screaming.
"I will continue my search." Beyond that, there is no reason for him to elaborate. Leads are given, and he can work on those. A breather may find breather, and so there is that as well.
Pushing the bottle aside, and rises to his feet. He's certain that it will go on the king's tab. Even they pay here. It suits them that this establishment is here.
"I will take my leave."
