http://thatsmyjob.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] thatsmyjob.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tampered2009-08-15 09:57 pm

Log: Ongoing

When; Late Saturday Night
Rating; R for snacking?
Characters; Eric Northman [livejournal.com profile] itextedyou and Thom Reston [livejournal.com profile] thatsmyjob
Summary; After the events here, Thom goes to Fangtasia for a much needed drink. He's really got to start paying more attention to the City guide!
Log;

Thom was that pesky combination of tired and wound up all at the same time. He'd forgotten what an adrenaline rush working in the hospital could be at times and combined with the fact that it had been Tony who had been hurt, well it had him a bit jittery.

Staying a little late at the hospital, just to make sure everyone was resting comfortably enough, Thom had eventually allowed himself to be shooed off and headed for his empty apartment. He still didn't entirely mind the ticking but tonight the thought of trying to cook was too much energy and he didn't want to just sit on the sofa so after some thought, he decided to check out Fangtasia.

After all, a free drink, some music maybe a bit of dancing would be what he needed to work out the adrenaline and then he could get to sleep, right?

Right.

Checking out the address on his PDA as he showered and changed into clean clothes -black on black ... again- he packed up his few coins and headed down to the club.

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Eric was no Pam-- he couldn't say that he never forgot a name and a face --but he could keep things in mind when he wanted to, and he kept an eye out for particular people in the city, targets that he thought were interesting or could be of some use. Thom was one of these, especially in a place where so quickly humans became wary and jaded. When he spotted Thom's slightly familiar face walk into the nightclub, it clicked in his memory. He quietly dismissed the woman he was speaking with, sliding out of his chair and making his way over to the man, dressed in all black.

At least he had good taste.

Slipping a stamp out of the pocket of his pants, he grabbed the man's arm gently, but without warning, and pressed it against the back of his hand, leaving a stylized 'F' in faint red ink. A drinks-all-night stamp. He had refused the offer, but Eric would make the decision on his own. It would be worth the money if he decided to get what he wanted.

"I was worried you might not show, Thom." The smile he offered was, in one word, radiant. And would have been the look of a snake smiling, if snakes could smile.

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
The hand didn't linger, but instead pulled away before Thom could realize that it wasn't clammy but cold, slightly below room temperature. It moved to the man's shoulders instead, patting him between his shoulder-blades and then directing him toward the bar. It was easy enough for Eric to cut a path through people. He owned the place, and even if he wasn't the oldest thing standing in it currently, he would still have been just a hair under six and a half feet tall.

The flush of pink, no matter how subtle, did not go unnoticed to him. If nothing else, even through Eric's cheerful sangfroid, it did make him more certain of his choice and more determined to see it through to the end.

"It's the only way to run a business if you really want to make money. A business like this, at any rate. Most of the income you will have flowing in will be from repeat customers. And so it pays to keep them happy. Do you do anything interesting for a living?"

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
By the time they reached the long, sleekly modern-looking bar, Eric had parted his hand from Thom's shoulder and moved to press a white barmop into his back pants pocket, leaning over the bar to the bartender, who quickly got the idea and escaped down to the far opposite end to deal with an approaching couple. Vaulting the bar with one arm, he turned and leaned against it, keeping his face near to Thom's in an attempt to catch his eyes with his own artic blue pair, curious and eager, sizing the man up.

"At the hospital? Really? You should tell me what you would rather be doing. And then you should have something to eat. Go ahead-- grab a bar menu. You look like you need to keep your blood sugar up."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
Falling into his eyes was a bit closer to the truth than Thom would have realized, given that it was becoming clear he hadn't been warned that Fangtasia, pun name and all, was a vampire-themed nightclub, and that Eric could use his gaze if he so chose to influence others; summon them, or modify their emotions or memory. He used the ability to his advantage again, very subtly, making sure to catch Thom in both eyes at once-- to be dead, a void, something that Thom could sink into. Let their thoughts become one shared entity.

Eric cocked his head and smirked, scribbling something onto a piece of paper before reaching below the bar to pull out a bottle of excellent Riesling and a corkscrew.

"Turkey panini with roasted bell peppers and summer squash. Best thing on the menu right now, and good with the wine. White with white, am I right my friend?"

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
"People should eat healthy," he muttered, sending the paper off to the kitchen and uncorking the wine, pouring a more than generous amount into a wine snifter for Thom and sliding it in front of him. He dragged a bar stool up to his side of the bar, sitting in it and leaning forward with hunched shoulders, arms draped lazily, relaxed, over the bartop.

"They live longer that way."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
The redness had returned to Thom's cheeks. He watched the man drink his wine with an air of understated delight and an anticipation. The corner of a pink pointed tongue moved to brush against his pale lower lip, but restraint was easy for a vampire of his age. He could and would wait, until the man had had something to eat, even if it was only a little. It would keep him from collapsing on his way home, the sugar in the wine and the food in his stomach.

Eric didn't want any nasty anti-vampire lobbyists on his tail here, or anyone with any ideas of something more permanent and physical than arguing with his methods.

"No, it's fine. I own a nightclub. I am more than used to listening to other people talk about their frustrations, and you are welcome to it. An impartial ear, if you want."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 04:44 am (UTC)(link)
The food came minutes later, and Eric slid the plate in front of Thom, to set beside the glass of wine before adjusting the collar of his jacket and giving a look around the nightclub's floor, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary and, more importantly, that there was nothing else more than human around-- nothing that might see through is glamour. Because Eric was about to break his no-biting-on-premises rule to some degree.

"I prefer to be generous when I have the ability to do so. You could say that I grew up wanting."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
"What were your conditions at home, then?" Part of it was to keep the other man distracted, but another part was honest, if bored, interest on Eric's part. He stood from the stool and leaned his elbows on the counter, eyes patient but staring the column of Thom's neck up and down with vaguely carnal interest, watching the flicker of the artery close to the skin there. A sudden glance toward the other people in the area had them shuffling nervously, moving subconsciously away from the area without truly realizing why they were compelled to do so.

It was Eric's territory, after all. They were all, more or less, guests in his nest.

"You seem like you were very comfortable. And stylish, at that."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
"It's a crowd-pleaser for men like yourself. The kind with sophisticated taste."

The shiver drew Eric's attention; Thom was making it clear that he was finished with the food that he was eating, and the large glass of wine was halfway finished. It was enough to make sure that he wouldn't become hypoglycemic, that Eric wouldn't be held culpable if he ended up unconscious in a ditch somewhere. He slid the plate far to the side, and then the glass of wine, leaning close enough so that if he had had breath, it would have shifted the hair around the human's ear.

"Be still." Eric stood to his full height to lean further over the slick wood and metal surface of the bar. The fangs in his upper jaw slid down, more like the curved striking fangs of a snake than canine teeth. He threw a deadness over them, made the scene seem ignorable, commonplace, so that only the nervous bartender at the far side of the bar seemed to notice anything was going on.

"I also have sophisticated taste. I don't like pathetic humans, but you-- you're charming. I want a taste of that and you are not going to remember what happened here. Only your sandwich and your glass of wine. I am only taking repayment for the food and drink."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
One cold hand reached to pat-- to brush --against Thom's opposite cheek, as if stroking an obedient cat, broad shoulders settling even closer to him as Eric perched over the furniture between them, then getting a hold on the back of the man's head.

"Some humans enjoy this," his voice coaxed, mostly honestly, to help the glamour set in and keep the man calm, before his body blurred slightly, summoning the force to puncture the skin and the tough, smooth material of the artery cleanly and painlessly. He wouldn't need much, he had been making sure to take small amounts and regularly, to make sure that he wasn't giving anyone who noticed a bad impression-- he didn't care if he seemed disgusting. Evil was another matter entirely.

Pressing his lips around the wound, he let it drain into his mouth, trying his hardest not to waste a drop to the floor or the fabric of Thom's black shirt. Eric allowed himself the noise of a breathless sigh, feeling an internal warmth which could only be attained in this one singular way. The wound would begin to heal and stop bleeding after only a minute.

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 06:25 am (UTC)(link)
He adjusted his fingers, raking them through the man's hair-- he was quiet. Eric liked that. He liked when they struggled a little, but he liked most of all when they didn't talk or fuss overly much, were simply quiet so that he could focus on the steady beating of their hearts and the song of blood rushing through veins.

That was enough. He allowed himself one more nibble against the column of the man's neck before lifting away, with one long draw of his tongue, laving the wound. It would heal within hours. One of the benefits of being Eric's age. He held the glamour for a moment longer, long enough to make sure that he reassured the man and so that he was far enough out of his personal space for the comfort of the other bar patrons.

"You did well. Are you awake?"

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
Eric resumed his position on the stool, draped across it with a satisfied smugness about him, one thumb pressed between his lips as he finished cleaning the last few suspicious drops off of his bottom lip. The look in his eyes was bright, the blue clearer than before, very much the cat who'd got the canary, because, after all, hadn't he? He'd laid a good trap and broken his own rules but he had what he'd wanted.

And it was to his liking; he wondered if he couldn't risk it a few more times. Only a few-- more and the psychic connection would begin to form, and he did not need one of those at that juncture. He shrugged and jammed the cork back into the bottle of Riesling, easily managing it with bare hands and minimal effort.

"You have nothing to apologize for. There's nothing wrong with a cheap date if it's a tasteful one."

[identity profile] itextedyou.livejournal.com 2009-08-16 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
Eric stood again, moving to the other side of the bar to push Thom's bar stool back into place, and motion the actual bartender to clean up what was left behind. Pointing a way toward the door with one hand, he jerked his head in that direction, jewelry jangling-- a set of Thor's hammers, the claw of a sea eagle.

The other hand he held up in an offer of a firm handshake.

"Come again. I insist. And take care of yourself out there-- the night can be extremely dangerous here, and I wouldn't wish for anything to happen to you. Thom."