Deep Ellum
Just a few blocks from Downtown, Deep Ellum acts as the arts and entertainment district of the city. With a myriad of live music venues, theaters, and a few small galleries, it has become the nightlife hotspot for the city. In addition to the usual arts, the are is prone to gaffiti art and murals, some of which appear overnight.
Deep Ellum is also becoming known as Vampire Central, thanks to the city's first and only vampire accommodating establishment - the Hotel Carmilla.
The evening in Dallas is well underway. The pedestrians on the street are out in some number this evening, the humidity in the air down. Now begins the 'but it's a dry heat' argument as temperatures truly begin their upswing. The skies are clear, the moon bright in the sky, easily outshining what few stars can be seen for the light-bleed of the city's illumination.
Departing from the Hotel Carmilla are two figures, one after the other. The first more stumbles out, face blooded, his arm held at a peculiar angle in comparison to what 'nature' has decreed, supported by his 'good' one. Behind him, another figure emerges; a blonde in dark coloured clothing, his step easy and looking crisp in the heat.
A police on the foot beat slows and calls out, "Hey, buddy, you okay?" Stopping, it's obvious he's not all that sure about getting involved. This is the Vampire District, after all. They've got their own .. ways of treating injuries.
At first, the injured says nothing, but with a glance behind him at the impassive face of the blonde, he shakes his head quickly, "I'm fine.. fine.."
"You sure.. you don't look.."
A flash of fang is all that is needed to wave the policeman from his current path, and it comes from the injured. Stepping forward in a flash of speed, a hand strikes the back of the injured vampire's head, sending the man flying to the side.
That is all the cop needs as a reason— to continue on. Vampires. So long as they don't get me!
A dead gaze looks at the injured vampire, and as Marius stares, the other struggles to rise and finally do, perhaps, that which he's been instructed.
"I will have no more," is rumbled, the distinct german accent noticable.
Desiree emerges from her studio, a large duffle-bag on her back and in her hands, two rapier-style swords and epees. The bag is dropped to the sidewalk while she unlocks her car, and then summarily placed in the back seat. The rapiers and epees, however, are still held as she turns to watch the scene unfolding in front of the Carmilla. It's about 3/4s of a block from her and across the street, so, while she can see what's going on, she can hear nothing unless the voices are raised. Naturally curious, she moves closer, still holding the practice swords and epees.
One person she recognizes instantly; the other two are strangers. She's not at all surprised to see the cop retreat in the opposite direction, and Desiree smirks, laughing. She's probably close enough by now that anyone looking in her direction can see her. Hearing? Probably, since they are vampires. At least she's close enough to her stuido to run back inside, if need be. Marius cannot enter without her permission, after all. «unless the studio's considered public—» The thought is not comforting, especially considering the vampire in question. She knows he's powerful, and dangerous. And she just hopes no one in that Ren Faire crowd told him of her faux pas about Michael's age. If Marius looks down the street, he'll see Desiree dressed completely in black, a rapier and an epee in either hand.
Vampires can hear, and rather well.. the scoffing laugh draws cold, dead blue eyes in her direction, his expression one of death.. impassive and inhuman. The police officer is now heading away, and the injured vampire is trying to regain his feet. He's obviously reeling from the strike, and once up, he's more than a little shaky. Marius leans in to the other vampire and something is whispered.. and with that, the vampire wobbles a nod and turns around to re-enter the hotel.
Once business is concluded, if only for the moment, the elder vampire's attention comes back around to the weapon-carrying lamb. She's playing at fighting, is she? His voice raises for the breather's benefit, the accent still very evident. "You scoff.. shall I give you reason why the constable was in the right?"
Desiree began a strategic retreat the instant she felt those cold, dead eyes on her. Backing slowly away, she's careful to keep her own eyes trained on Marius. When he speake, she stops. "I snickered at one of Dallas' Finest so bravely facing vampires," she tells him honestly. "Not that I blame him," is added soto voce though she knows he'll hear her.
When she reaches what she feels is a safe enough distance, she stops. The weapons in her hands are real, not toys. Both are sharp, both are well made. "If you want to tell me, sure." She doesn't back away now, instead giving Marius the choice of yelling down the street, or approaching her to speak. For her part, Desiree is quivering with fear deep inside. Marius terrifies her, but she's not going to run. That would mean he'd probably just follow her.
From a distance.. and in a flash, Marius is seemingly beside her within the span of a heart beat. Vampires move quickly, older ones very quickly, and some, well.. have special little tricks.
A lesson in 'there is no such thing as safe distance'?
"It was the bravest thing he could do. To go home to his children.." is given softly. Reaching out rapidly, he moves to take hold of both her hands in a vice grip, forcing the flesh to relinquish the weapons.
"Are you so foolish to mock, then.. when I can hear the pounding of your heart in your chest, the blood racing through your veins? You are foolish to be so brave, with no protection from your words and actions. Perhaps I should send a warning… ja?"
Desiree swallows the scream that rises in her throat. "I wasn't mocking him in that respect," she counters, wincing as she's forced to give up the weapons. "I don't blame him. I'd want to get away from you, too!" There's heat in the words, fueled by her fear and pain. "Be careful with those. They're not toys," she snaps, jerking her hands away from that vice grip as soon as the weapons are relinquished. Her eyes are blazing jade green, expression angry.
As soon as she can, Desiree backs away again. Digging in her pocket, she produces her keys. If she can make it to the car, she can at least get inside and lock the doors. Cars are like homes, right?
But, Marius is right. Her heart is pounding in her chest, her blood racing icy cold through her veins. "Why am I so foolish? Bravery and courage are virtues to be admired, not scorned. I don't need anyone's protection. I am my own person." She pauses, forcing composure and control to keep from running at his last statement. "Just give me back my rapier and epee, and you can go your way, I'll go mine."
"They are foolish in the face of death." Whether Marius is referring to himself as the bringer of death or if he's going to snuff her life, there is no clarification. Instead, he reaches out with a strong grip and slides forward and reaches to grasp the woman's throat, just below the jaw, and draw her near, his voice a whisper. "Foolish lamb to the slaughter. You are nothing. Your spirit may amuse some but for a trifle of time before it becomes tiresome. And when my patience is at an end.." she'll know it. As will Michael.
With that grasp of her throat, it's easy for Marius to feel the pulsing of her blood. Desiree's afraid of him. THere is no doubt of that. It shows in her eyes— wide, with the whites showing around the pupils— and in the sudden beads of sweat on her forehead. It's likely he can smell her fear, too, albeit she tries to still her heart and remain composed.
"Will you kill … me on a public … street?" she whispers. She can't speak any louder, not with his hand on her throat. "Or will you … release me only to … hunt me down?" It's not a challenge, just questions. "Why is it … I must be owned … for you to leave me alone? I'm /not/ nothing. I'm—" The grasp is too much, and her questions end in strangled silence.
And when his patience ends? Desiree feels an icy finger of fear travel the length of her spine. She looks into the blond man's face, and there is nothing behind those pale eyes. Nothing, save death.
"Oh no, lamb," His words are whispered. "not on the street.."
Letting go of her throat as suddenly as he'd grasped it, Marius turns around and begins his path back to the hotel from whence he had so recently departed. And the evening is still young.
