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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.

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The evening is in full swing, as it were. While there is a good collection of patrons indoors, there are few outside in the muggy, humid night air, taking their nightly strolls.

Due to the humidity that hangs in the air, there are a few girls who complain loudly about what the air does to their hair and are spending an inordinate amount of time ducking and bobbing so they can primp and preen awkwardly at the tables with their compact mirrors placed on the table. With each arrival, vampire or not, these girls, and a few others that have companions beside them, turn to look at the newly entered.

Marius has been seated at the bar long enough to have noticed these girls, and easily ignore them as marks. With a bottle of TrueBlood before him, he fingers it lazily.. his expression deadpanned each time he decides to take a pull, a drip of the red elixir trailing down the side of his mouth.. only to be cleaned by a move of his thumb, or a wipe of his sleeve.


It's a typical Saturday night, and Bloody Mary's is packed with gawking tourists, desperate fangbangers, vampires and similar creatures of the night. Or, wannabe creatures of the night, at the very least. Desiree hasn't been here in a week or so, but needs to find someone. If anyone will know where to find that certain vampire, the bartender will. And if the vampire isn't here? — she can leave a message for him to give her a call. It's all very simple. She doesn't even need to stay all that long; in and out in a few minutes, either way. Marius, after all, isn't one for lengthy conversations.

Moistening her lips, she steps inside the bar, standing to one side of the entrance to allow others egress. Her eyes scan the bar, searching for the familiar short-cropped blond hair and powerful physique. There are butterflies in the pit of her stomach; she may know the truth of his innocence, but the glamour still tells her it was him who committed the atrocity against her. So, there is a war inside her head, and Desiree must fight hard to maintain composure.

Finally catching sight of Marius, she takes a breath and strolls confidently up to within a few feet of the vampire. She has no idea what kind of mood he's in, and doesn't want to irritate him. So, she takes the only empty stool at the bar, the one next to him. "Evening," is all she says, voice quiet. "I would speak with you, if you're not busy."


Marius' posture is such that he's slightly hunched over his bottle in the manner of many a breather, and there is a long moment as the vampire seems to consider it, only as evidenced as the single word that comes as permission. "Speak."

Tilting the bottle up, he finishes what is left within, another trail of blood escapes from the edge of his lips, though this time he doesn't quite catch it, and the drops fall upon the front of his jacket. The bottle is put down once more, and turning finally to the lamb beside him, he takes his thumb and pulls up along the liquid, and licks what is there.


Desiree nods, steeling herself for when Marius faces her. She can't stop the shiver which runs down her spine, but tries to look as composed and calm as she can. "I've been searching for this Mellie you wanted found," she says, getting right to the point. "Tonight I looked up a couple of people who my sources say know her very well. I went to their … house, for lack of a better word … for a party, and asked around."

She pauses, trying to forget the stench of the place, the too loud music, the drugs being passed around. "They told me she left Dallas about a month, month and a half ago. No one's heard from her since. All they said was she took off with some guy." She shrugs her good shoulder. "They didn't even know if he was human or not. She's pretty much … disappeared to someplace new."

That's the gist of what she learned from the V-addicts. "They were so high they barely made any sense, so …" Another shrug. "I'll keep asking around, but there's been absolutely no sign of her since I started looking. I'm pretty sure she's gone." Or dead, but she doesn't say that.

Desiree tries not to look at the synthetic blood dripping down his chin, her eyes following it down as it drips onto his jacket. "Sorry I couldn't be more help, but I'm limited in what I can do. I'm decidedly not in the same league as she was," and this is said with distaste, meaning she's a cut above the rest of those "lambs."


Marius continues to stare, his blue eyes revealing nothing within.. dead, dark.. empty orbs. He can sense the pulse rise as she tries to tamp down her fears, and he simply.. waits. Silently. Motionlessly.

"I understand," comes barely above a whisper. "You are all in the same 'league'. You may play at games to push and pull each other up and down, but you are all the same, ultimately." V-addicts go down just as easily..

Turning back to raise the bartender's attention, something that isn't hard for the vampire, he gets another bottle of the synthetic stuff. "You have done enough. I have the information I require."


Some of Desiree's anxiety lessens as Marius speaks, although the remark about all of them being the same does kind of rankle. She clamps down on her natural instinct to retort, her lips pressing together thinly. When Marius summons the bartender, Desiree waits until he orders, then gets the man's attention for herself. "Jack Black on the rocks," she orders. Not her usual foo-foo drink.

"Good," she says in regards to him saying she's done enough. "I can leave off going to the wrong side of the tracks. Thought for sure I was going to be mugged any second." Slightly peeved, she mutters, "I don't suppose I'm worth a thank you."

When the drink is poured, she picks it up and takes a strong swig. It does down harshly, but she refuses to cough. Instead, she swallows and blinks away the sudden watering of her eyes. The second sip isn't quite as bad, and by the third, the drink is gone.


The bottle is placed before Marius once again, though from Desiree's vantage, she can see the momentary confusion on the human bartender's face as the vampire is served. Still, if TrueBlood is requested … and the alcoholic drink is also served. Probably something to deaden the fangs, given the state of dress the woman is in.

Bringing the bottle back to his lips, a couple long draughts are taken, the trickling of blood from the side evident.. and Marius simply doesn't appear to care.. not until the bottle is lowered once more, and his sleeve is used, pushing the red liquid into something of a light pink streak. "Not my concern on how information is gained. Only that it is." As for thank you, it never passes his lips but for a select few… and none of them take mortal breaths.

Canting his head sideways to look at Desiree once more, his voice remains soft, the accent obvious as it clips his words, "If you continue to drink that, you will undoubtedly be a target.. however, once again, it is not my concern. I am merely stating a fact."


"I'd no intention of having more than this one," Desiree replies, setting the empty glass on the bar. "And, so what if I'm a target. Maybe next time I'll remember things right." She glances around. She's speaking very quietly, but that doesn't mean anything. Vampires have very keen ears. "Forget I said that," Desiree tells him. "It was drug central at that place, and I think I got high just breathing." Her eyes regard her empty glass a moment.

"Seems to me you guys would want to put a stop to that kind of place. I didn't see anything myself, but I'm pretty sure they were dealing —" She stops, clamping her lips shut. It's several minutes before she speaks again. "I think it's time for me to head home. Can I offer you a lift back to Deep Ellum?" It's only polite; she doesn't expect him to take her up on it. Of course, it's private in her car, and she could speak freely there.


"Correctly. 'remember things correctly'." English is Marius'.. more than a few languages down on the list, but he's something of a stickler, it seems. "It is unfortunate that one of us has left such a drastic mark, but there is no way of telling whom it could have been. Until such time.." He remembers the conversation, "I find it somewhat insulting that they used my name. Makes me look soft." Is he joking?

"Stop what 'kind of place'? Was it a place for drainers? V-dealers?" It's not something he really concerns himself with unless there is a specific threat. And if that happens? It will be shut down.. and quickly.

"I am not going to Deep Ellum. My evening has other things in store for me. I require something other than this.. before much else occurs."

Rising from his seat, Marius looks to Desiree still seated beside him, "Do you have need to tell me anything else, lamb?"


"Yes, teacher," Desiree mumbles, just a little belligerently, but she does correct herself. "Remember things correctly, then. I remember my English lessons, I just don't always use them ri— correctly." She amends herself this time.

"Soft?" Desiree's brows climb nearly to her hairline. "Makes you seem soft?!" There's complete surprise in her voice, which rises slightly. Fortunately, no one seems to pay her any mind; the joys of being a lamb amidst a den of lions. "Trust me, it wasn't soft." Bitterly, that. "I'll be healing for another two or three weeks, thanks to whoever … or whomever it was."

"I can't say for certain, but I know the couple were V-addicts. They offered me some. I know where their house is, and where the party was held. I never left the living room, so no telling what went on elsewhere in the house."

Finally, she shakes her head. "Not really. I guess I was just missing … it was always nice having Michael to talk to. With him gone, it's kind of —" Desiree shrugs, rising from the stool. "I'm sure we'll run into one another again, and I'll find you if I remember anything from the…" She nods to her arm. "Wouldn't want you appearing … soft, would we?" Sarcasm. Yes.


"You are not dead."

Now on his feet, Marius ignores what is left in the bottle and looks as if he's ready to depart. He pauses, however, and his attention is firmly on the lamb, bleating for—

"He is gone." It's a statement and a question all in one. His expression as he studies Desiree is.. empty. Devoid of any life. The almost-melancholy air of vampire-loneliness hasn't escaped Marius; he simply chooses to ignore the emotions, for the moment. "Left the City, or simply walked away when he discovered that he was incapable of convincing you that a claim was in your best interest?"


Desiree pauses on her way to the exit, turning to face Marius. "Gone to Europe for personal business," she says, as nonchalantly as she can. "He didn't tell me where or when he'd be back, so I don't know." It's not defensive, but Marius can tell by her expression the comment about a claim didn't sit well. "A claim might be in my best interest, but who says I want Michael to claim me?" she says flatly. "Maybe I'd prefer someone else."

A little snappish, that statement. "When the right one comes along, I'll say yes to a claim faster than you can rip off my head." She sighs. "I'm so tired of explaining that Michael and I are close, but no longer that close. Besides, maybe if my attacker tries again, you all will catch him. I just don't think he's interested in me anymore. I'm not that tasty."

She turns away, moving once more toward the door. "Good night, Marius. If I hear anymore info, I'll be sure to let you know." What that's in reference to, who knows?


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