| Minding His Own Business |
[30 Oct 2006|10:55am] |
"That's the guy, huh?"
The bigger a vampire's reputation would get, the more recognition they got from others like them. It went as much for Katherine as those she had a reason to track down, which was why she took care to hide her tracks. She had safe dwellings all over the city and generally shifted between them, just in case.
And it went for Tristan, too; the blonde who Rhiannon had asked her to take care of, in return for neutralizing a problem of Katherine's own.
"Alright," she thanked, handing dollar bills over to the informer and slapping them on the shoulder. "Guess it's time to say 'hello'..."
The bars in Las Vegas were not all that different from those anywhere else. A few were themed, but there were others, like this, perfectly casual in their environment. A sort of shielded retreat from the neon playground outside.
Approaching the figure, Katherine didn't come to this one for reasons of pleasure. She came to hunt bear.
Bear with fangs.
"Hey," she greeted. "Tristan, right?"
Tristan took a sip from his glass and raised his eyebrows, looking at his visitor from above the rim of the glass. "Depends who's asking," he said, then took another gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, a black leather jacket he had recently acquired. Other then drinking, he didn't move. He didn't invite the stranger to join him. He wasn't all that surprised to be greeted by name. After all, he did have a reputation. One didn't kill a Slayer without other vampires catching wind.
"Someone who knows Rhiannon."
( What is it with these Vegas ladies? )
|
|
| The In-Between |
[30 Oct 2006|09:28pm] |
Simon sidled up to the bar, gently drumming his palms on the edge of the sticky bartop. Once the bartender looked his way, he ordered a coffee and slipped easily onto a stool.
Too many free drinks had shot his judgment; he’s spent the better part of an hour at a scammed roulette table before he even realized. His peculiar talent for spinning wild – and yet wildly believable – lies and detecting the same treachery in others worked well when applied to the world of casinos: he could sniff out a rigged machine or table from a mile away.
Unless, of course, his senses had been dulled by a few dozen drinks, brought courtesy of winking waitresses.
Las Vegas had always been good to Simon, and this extended trip had been no different. He had been able to call in a few debts from the old days, though it took a little convincing for the old crew to realize he was who he claimed to be. They remembered the flawless face of a Fallen angel; the less than perfect human visage he had claimed left little reminder of his divine heritage. Still, they had eventually agreed and his pockets were lined with thirty years of past debts owed to him. All that was left for that particular evening was to sober up.
( Choice )
|
|