The Night Has Just Begun *OPEN*

[Jeannette Báthory]

The Night Has Just Begun
So much for your freedom
So much for your thoughts

The day time was of no interest to Jeannette. America was to hot, to sunny! Her days were spent with little more then sleep, the meals she was still forced to eat much to her disgust and run chores. Not like the nights. No the nights were entirely different. With the setting of the sun came the life of the club she lived above, came the bringing of those who feasted on blood, the beautiful ones. Some would come with mates, some alone for the drink or hopes of company, some with a mortal merely for entertainment, merely for something to bite on through out the night. But no matter who it was – they came.

The now silence surrounded her would be filled with the blaring of music, the soft talk of the undead, the giggles of young girls and handsome men she employed to loiter the dance floors, the dark alleys leading around the bars, through the never used toilets, up the stairs that lead to the balcony surrounding the floors, around the back to the rooms ‘privileged costumers’ were entitled to use for the right price. They always left a terrible mess that she had to pay to be cleared up. And she was always there. Dressed finely, swimming through her punters, charming and smiling ensuring all was well.

The sun would be setting soon. And in a few hours once again life would be restored. She rose silently from her place perched on the window skill gazing down to the empty streets where humans usually walked – sickening creatures, foolish! They did not know what she knew. They had no idea. Turning she swanned through the large apartment placed above her club, high beside majority of flats and warehouses. The entire place was filled with rich furniture, macabre art in rich burgundies, dark reds and blacks. A present from ‘Daddy’ at the soft flutter of eyelashes for his deranged daughter. The windows sported large black blinds that when wound down would cast the entire apartment into darkness for she had long since adjusted to nocturnal sleeping habits to make the most of her livelihood. But one day… one day she wouldn’t have to sleep again.

She stood adorned in what she would wear that evening. Typically gothic as all her states lay, long hair cast straight down her back, parted lazily at the top slightly back combed for effect. A tight black corset bound tightly around her slim waist, cleavage thrust to the heavens, waist crammed impossibly tight ribbon cascading down her back from where the steel bones were tightly tugged in. Fishnet tights lay beneath the skirt that was tucked into the corset, flaying over long hips falling into ragged cuts at the back past her knees, at the front just above to show the slim legs adjourned with long black boots, the heel impossibly high and slim curved in an old Edwardian style. Her neck adjourned a large choker perhaps to hide the pulsing veins and arteries in her neck from those she consorted with. A vampire she longed to e perhaps, but not dead at a vampires hands. Her face was as painted as a dolls, pale with thick eyeliner, the fake feathered lashes, the shock of red lipstick to a otherwise monochrome appearance. Silently she unlocked the latch of her apartment kicking it open to show the floors heading from the floor down. She followed them down easily, the club giving a soft creek at the new movement – awakening from its sleep. At the foot of the stairs she reached the ‘back rooms’ for the privileged customers. The dark corridor, decked with a wooden floor, the walls covered with more morbid paintings between the dark burgundy walling. With a right turn she was soon lead to the door beside the bar between the ‘toilets’. The bar was stacked with all manner of bottles illuminated with the green neon lighting. They were never opened, merely for show what her punters came for was kept blissfully warm.

Dark green eyes cast around her carefully observing the large dance floor surrounded by thick red velvet sofas and chairs, walls decorated in that same dark burgundy pattern, a large mirror spanning across one of the walls faked blood splatter spread across it for effect. Truly any human or at worst police who caught a glance inside would merely think it the typical goth club, a fetish club at the very worst although the décor was rather tasteful for that. The bouncer was already outside to ensure it was not the likes of humans who entered, in moments her club would be bustling with life… well unlife.

((You know I didn't copy and just change the last paragraph of my application post because... that would be terribly tacky... ;D))

[tristan]

His cell, which hardly rang, started to flash at him. Of course, he was in a chair with a book in his hands. All of his pictures that he had previously taken were done and sent off. It was three in the morning, though not a problem for the vampire. He was always up and alert. Looking at the cell once more before picking it up, Tristan attempted his best disgruntled voice into the phone. The conversation lasted much longer than any he had every had with Harvey. He was given a very specific assignment, but it wasn’t just pictures that Harvey wanted. He wanted a story. Of course, the vampire was reluctant to say yes. He did not want his name anywhere near the article, but Harvey assured him that it could be anonymous. That was a bit better to his now sweltering heart rate. Piercing his lips he wrote down his instructions and clicked the phone off. It was a club that he had heard a little about. Apparently there was a human that only seemed to let vampire into her little get togethers every night. He rolled his eyes at how stupid some vampires could be. She could ruin them all, yet nothing was being done about it. Tristan figured this way he could kill two birds with one stone.

He had been looking for a good excuse to go, considering he was the reclusive sort. He had already finished off her sire and his coven with the help of a few friends. It was not an easy task and he had been sore for weeks afterwards. He did not go to the club because he had heart of the immense security there was there. But, if he could get the girl alone, to trust him, the rest would be ancient history. His goal tonight was to merely get the story and make his presence known. He was not so presumptuous to think that he could have the female eating out of the palm of his hand the first night. He would have to sway her. Make her believe that she was safe and perhaps he was in love with her. It wasn’t that heart for Tristan was a charmer. His gift helped him miraculously in most situations. Eying the clock he knew that he there was still a chance that the club was busy. He counted on that fact.

Picking up his coat, he placed his tape recorder in his pocket and a camera that clung to his button. A new age device that was highly useful especially in situations such as these. He had no emotional attachment in people, which helped him do his job. He did not find people that shared their secret friends either. That was perhaps a trait he had reciprocated from Marcus. He was a stickler for old time rules and the new age vampires were diminishing things that had been set in stone long before their arrival. A bitter taste coursed through his tongue as he thought about the discrepancies. It would be something to mention to Marcus at a later date. The problem was getting a little to big for him. He did not like taking on the role of a tattle-tale, but this human was placing everyone in danger. It made him want to growl out in rage, but he kept such sentiments to himself. He couldn’t be bothered with anger tonight. Tonight, he was going to be the perfect gentleman. Once outside, he walked the streets, noting exactly where he was going. He knew right where the club was, even if he had never went into it before.

The bodyguard was a vampire as well. New age, most likely. Hoe could so many of his kind sweep to this human’s command. What was going on? It was something that interested him. Once inside, he passed through the crowds with a new vigor. The rush and excitement were not there. There was a girl up on the stage singing while others passed around blood in wine glasses. Most of them vampires, but a few were humans. He rolled his eyes inwardly. The sent of blood being far to powerful for him to refuse. His blonde locks tucked in behind his ears, the man quickly grabbed a glass. The girl offered him much more with the way her body moved against his own. He couldn’t help but to smile at her little show. Oh if he weren’t on business he would enjoy the little brunette’s company more so than ever before, but right now he was forced to stay on target. “No,” he whispered into her ear. “I find your blood far more alluring,” he chuckled taking up a glass to show the mild joke and clear away the small obscenity. “And who owns this club?” he asked lightly trying to seem as if disinterested just merely making conversation.

The girl pointed over to a raven haired woman. He nodded, stepping forward. It was only a few strides before he was before her. A charming smile placed on his lips as his fingers rubbed against the wooden table in delight. “A very charming vicinity, if I must say so myself,” he commented silkily. He didn’t want his dry characteristics to seep out just yet. He would be polite and charming for as much of the time that he could.

[Jeannette Báthory]

As always Jeannette was around her club, as always she was found as she was every night either by the bar indulging in the own stock she ensured was kept to keep the presentation of her club and silence the humans or at one of the side tables in conversation never seeming to care of the frailty of her flesh or the hungry eyes a vampire would occasionally shoot her. She sat currently at one of the dark tables, a vampire opposite her – a fledgling of no real status of charm, his hand upon her lower calf which rested to the free chair on her left. Getting far to close. How often vampires tried it, how foolish they thought she was. How often a vampire would attempt to convince her they were in love, they desired her when she knew all they wanted was a taste. She had long since built up a defence with a single look to the bar someone would be sent in her direction with a need to pull her away with a lie of urgency.

Her eyes glanced up when a shadow was cast over the table, a man – no a vampire standing over it the foolish monster at her feet promptly raising and leaving knowing full well from merely how this man held himself – he was higher up the foot chain. Her own green eyes fled over him promptly taking in the fine blonde hair, the toned form neatly dressed. He was beautiful – but then so were they all. A girl had to be careful of her neck in this line of business. He looked oddly familiar, something of a dream within a dream. Strange.

With a slim paled skilful hand she gestured he now take the empty seat opposite her. His comments rang on deaf ears how many times she had heard them be it truthfully or a method to get a warm meal.
“Thank you.” Came her simple dry comment, truly not caring or listening to his compliments having heard them all before. Her eyes soon separated spanning over the club, all seemed fine the girls undisturbed the punters enjoying themselves in regal conversation with glasses of thick red ‘wine’, dance as the dark tones of music fled across the room or looks of hunger to the girl upon the stage.

“I have not seen you here before.” She told the man opposite her simply not bothering to yell knowing full well his vampire ears would be able to hear a feeble whisper from her lips in a sand storm. True most of the punters here were merely vampires passing by regulars faded and became every few years when it was necessary to move on or boredom set in. Truly she was thinking of opening a branch of her clubs, spread far and wide across the globe not just America. And she could travel, stay for it’s routes to be set before moving on to another certainly this one did not need her hands anymore to flourish and one of the many doormen had already been chosen to take other should anything… untoward happen.

[tristan]

Tristan remembered everything about the night that he had taken her sire. He was a foolish sort. Taking a human on when their entire lives depended on secrecy. He had been all too thrilled once he had caught the vampire a lone without his other ‘friends.’ Nothing was easier than killing him and the blonde had not thought twice about doing it. He had wanted to kill the others, but the girl was surrounded by too many people. Of course he couldn’t just let her travel around the world. She’d try to find others like them, for their kind was some what of an addiction. With only one taste, humans would never stop looking and never stop seeking for their kind. He did not know at the time what her reaction would be. He had not expected her reaction though. Tristan felt the need to watch her. Wait until there was a time when he could get her alone. Though, he wasn’t always there. He had a job as well. He couldn’t just baby sit the pampered brat at all times.

Anyhow, he was here now with her. This was the first time that he had spoken to her or sought her out. He didn’t mean to chit chat with someone he was destined to kill. That was not Tristan’s style. No, he didn’t get too attached to people. He just didn’t like mixing business with vampire business. His job today was the story, but he had to get into this girl’s circle in order to kill her. He already had tried to get her alone on previous accounts. She never knew, but she was always surrounded by people and now vampires. If he made a stupid move they would kill him, Tristan was not stupid. He was actually very smart about what he did. He had to wait months to get her sire alone. The plan was the same and it wouldn’t change if she batted her eyelashes or tried to talk him out of going home. No, Tristan would prevail if it took years. It wouldn’t take that long though, she had to be exterminated.

The entire club had to end. He knew that. Once Marcus and Aro arrived they would see to it as well. He might not even have to bloody his hands, but he’d ask to kill Jeannette. He’d want her dead by his hands because he deserved it. After all of his tracking and long nights, Tristan deserved to drink his fill of his pompous, spoiled brat. Shaking his head, he pulled his thoughts away from the past. Away from the victory that would be in his grasp. He had to concentrate on the now. He needed to remain focused tonight. Turning his full attention back to her, Tristan watched her casually. He acted slightly interested, but nothing that was too over bearing or needy. Her words rung into his ears and caused him some slight disbelief. He then remembered that she was surrounded by vampires on a daily basis. It wasn’t such a shock that she didn’t find him highly attractive, or at least wasn’t drooling over him.

It was true that the vampire was conceited, but this situation took a new grim twist. Her lack of interest in him was not as endearing as he had hoped it would be. He wanted her attention because she wasn’t giving it. Ah. So that was her game plan. He’d not give in. He’d truly act as casual as possible with her. It was bound to aggravate her if that was truly her game. If not, he’d still be as casual as possible. His crimson gaze turned to her when she spoke again. Tristan smiled, the gentle curve of his lips turned up in mock laughter. “No, you wouldn’t have.” It left his words with a sense of wonder. Ambiguity was one of Tristan’s favorite traits. If she was going to be dry, then he would have to turn his own methods against her. One of them would tire of the game, but he was betting that it wouldn’t be him. Jeannette had a temper, and he imagined that if things didn’t go her way then she would not let it go over well with him or anyone else.

Turning his gaze to the thrilled crowd, he watched the blonde girl take the mic from the stand and travel down the steps to sell herself to the crowd in a fictitious manner. Inside, he rolled his eyes at the method Jeannette had used. He wasn’t particularly found of clubs. If he needed a whore he could find one on the street and pay a lot less for the same service, not that he couldn’t talk them into giving it to him for free. He was happy to support their pathetic lifestyle. “It would seem your blonde is a favorite of the crowd,” he commented without any interest, showing in his voice this time as he turned back to face her. Clearly he wasn’t interested in paying for her services, and he wanted to make sure Jeannette got the message.
[/size]

[Jeannette Báthory]

Oh yes Jeannette was spoilt in almost every sense of that word. Deprived of affection yet never starved of wealth her parents had so easily believed that love was buying their precious little girl all she could desire practically burying her in gifts at birthdays and Christmas while ensuring a huge allowance and truly when a girl had all she wanted what else was she going to do with such amounts of money then turn to the darker side of life. Even now instead of the phone call she received a large check from ‘daddy’ enough to cover her living expenses let alone with the money the club brought. There was nothing in this world Jeannette could not have – save the thing she desired most. Immortality, vampirisum the one thing her money could not give and oh how deeply she longed for it. How she would do absolutely anything for it.

She was careful to pay this man little attention having seen before what trouble it could bring a girl if she was to sit drooling. He was undoubtedly handsome, more so then many vampires – but beauty no longer appealed to her. She was surrounded by it every day yet none who were willing to share. She merely lent back in her chair, long legs stretched over the other free seat sharp boots resting to the wood. Her hands merely came to the case infront of her on the table within seconds withdrawing a cigarette to place between dark red lips the flash of a silver lighter evident for a few seconds as the flame flickered to life just long enough to touch the end before it was cast back down to the table. With a long inhale she exhaled the puff of smoke in her guests direction as he continued to be elusive. They all did that, these bloody vampires who knew they were so much better who knew they could get away with being elusive and mysterious never answering a question.

Her eyes scanned over her beloved club to meet the blonde of the stage. Selling herself with the seductive words of her lyrics, the tempting teasing of her body and the wafting scent of her blood.
“She doesn’t come cheap.” Were the only words she gave this man as she sucked on the cigarette as if her very life depended upon it. Truly that girl raked in the cash, she was an asset though Jeannette would never tell her it. Her eyes flicked over him carefully, suspiciously.
“Did you want something?” She demanded harshly truly not able to stomach another vampire trying to charm her into a dark corner for a warm meal – did they truly think her so foolish? A mortal perhaps and perhaps she did not know everything about their world but she was logical and knew full well how to defend herself.

[tristan]

He was almost insulted by her words. Did she think him like some of the low scum here? That he would buy the affection of the human girl whom he could seduce into his bed at any moment that he wanted? He was insulted, but he did not show it. He wanted to slap the pompous brat off of her bar stool. She was far more tiresome than any other human he had ever met, but at least with the others it was a quick death. A bite to their neck or wrist or breast and he had them at his own mercy. Jeannette however failed to meet his standards, by that he means that she would not cooperate with his plans of killing her. Instead, the raven haired girl surrounded herself by vampires day in and day out. It was a wonder that none of them had changed her, perhaps they feared her becoming one of them and turning them all into slaves. He didn’t understand the reasons for their loyalty. Tristan just knew that if he made one false move he would be dead.

He rolled his eyes at her, taking her cigarette from her hands. She would no doubt be annoyed by him, or either intrigued by his brave action. No matter, he enjoyed the taste of the nicotine on his tongue and how it wafted around the room like a fitted glove. If she was going to be rude enough to blow her smoke in his face, he would just take the luxury of having part of her cigarette. He closed his eyes, taking in the new aroma of the material in his hands. It was only a few seconds before he opened his eyes to peer at Jeannette. A twisted smile formed on his face as he looked at her from across the table. She was playing a tough game, but one he was capable of winning if he played his cards right. He was having trouble deciding on whether to get her alone tonight or just make friends and do a bit of chit chat so she would trust him.

For some reason Jeannette did not appear to be the trusting type. He had seen her be as careful as possible when picking out employees. He knew friends were probably one of the toughest things she would fuss over. “Yes, you just gave me what I wanted,” he teased her slightly. Offering the cigarette back to her, the blonde shrugged his shoulders and looked back at the blonde working up a new guy before the song ended. “I wasn’t interested in the blonde, but it’s nice to know you over charge the customers. I don’t see how you remain in business.”

Tristan’s comment was cold and forthcoming. He had no intentions of playing into the brat’s ego. He didn’t care for it and he would knock it down if he could. As soon as a girl walked by with a glass of blood, he quickly took one. If he was going to be here he might as well enjoy the supplies the club had to offer, besides it might make Jeanette believe that he wasn’t here to suck her blood. That was an added bonus that he didn’t see coming. Shaking his head, Tristan sat the glass down. He looked back up at her, giving a charming smile. “Do I frighten you or are you normally always this tense Jeannette?”


[/size]