Arriving in new places was never easy. They meant that one had to learn a whole new language, and a whole new way of behaving around people. But Russia had long since become tiresome, and the cold nights an irritation she could bear no longer. So little by little and night by night, she'd made her way eastards, across to the Bering, across Alaska and all across what she could only describe as the gorgeous Canadian emptiness to Demaitre, following the tracks of another vampire to where she figured they might congregate. Where there were vampires...there was sure to be something for them to feed on. And luckily, her many years on this Earth had given her a chance to brush up on her language, though it had never fully erased her slight Russian twang.

The hood of her leather outfit was up, despite the fact that it was high midnight. The sun had long retreated beneath the horizon before the onslaught of darkness, and stars glimmered in the sky. The moon basked its familiar passive blue glow gently upon the ground of the quiet streets in sympathy of the streetlamps' feeble attempt to make night as bright as day, and Malise's gaze, masked from view by the hood, flicked over to a potential target. A young courting couple...probably bourgois class, judging by their expensive, flashy dress.
Her eyes flicked up, to the tall silhouetted buildings either side. Most of the building lights were off, but it wasn't the architecture or a room she was currently interested in. She was looking for potential competition...or a hunting partner. So long as she took the man, she wouldn't mind making an aquaintance here.

A shadow slipped across the street, unseen by the mortals nearby. Carefully, it dragged itself behind a tree and waited. No danger. Eery engery floated in the air as the dark spot grew. First, it grew up wards, four feet and five inches. Then it molded itself into a human-like shape. Slowly, the darkness seemed to peel away, revealing a woman in a tench coat and rose tinted glasses. She smiled and brushed her dark curls out of her pale face.

"Lovely evening," she commented, unemotionally. She removed her glasses and looked around. Another vampire was close to her. Swell. "Time to feed, Morrigan," the vampiress told herself.

Morrigan stepped out from behind the tree, her red heels not making a sound. A mortal man just happened to pass by her that very second.

"Hello," she said, without looking at him. Her hand grabbed his neck and pulled it to her mouth. Her old fangs broke through his flesh easily. Thob. He fell to the ground dead. Not a drop of blood on Morrigan's lips. She did not gloat, however. The joys of hunting, if you call that hunting, had worn off.

She saw the other vampire. "Hello!" Morrigan said, a smile on her face, "Fine night." It was, then, the warrior eyed the couple.

Malise had observed the other vampire's movements, admiring the precision and timing with which she'd dealt with that morsel, but rather noticing by the fact that she had not spilled any blood...Malise was not known for such subtlety. Why give their family the honour of an open coffin, when vampires needed to sleep in a closed one?

"Mmm," was Malise's audible reply, as her dark lips cracked a smile. She brought up one quaint hand, and with her thumb and index took the lip of her hood and brought it down over her purest-black ponytail, revealing her pale features in their entirety.
She blinked, a motion barely noticeable due to the almost total lack of colour change between iris and eyelid, and looked upon the vampire before her. Through her nose she could smell the faint scent of blood from Morrigan's victim, and that alone was enough to make her thirst override all else. Her eyes resumed their onto the couple.
Taking her hands to a prayer position, she pulled the heels away to allow her to crack her fingers sickeningly as she spoke.
"I take it by that look in your eyes you're still hungry?" she rasped. Either way, that couple's evening would be cut short, but a bit of company while one dined never went down badly.

A familiar, but creepy, sensation crawled up Morrigan's spine. Her dark eyes rolled back for a second as she purred with pleasure. It was the lust and passion seeping out of the couple to her. Her oldest vampire gift was calling. The warrior loved mortal emotions and these two were throbbing with it. It was delicious. For a moment, Morrigan was lost, almost possesed by it, but the presence of the other pulled her away.

"Is a vampire ever truely satisfied?," Morrigan asked the other, her eyes still on the couple. "If you don't mind I'll take the female."

With vampire-quick movement she stood before the couple. They were trapped between their hunters, unknowingly walking their last steps. At first, they did not seem to notice. Their simple, living brains filled with happy thoughts about tommorrow. Morrigan lowered her head and watched them through long lashes. The grin she bore was demonic. Morrigan wanted the woman. The mortal's passion was enthralling.

Pear scented perfume. A soft, summery dress. Warm flesh and even warmer blood. The girl's sweet face was pink with life. Morrigan was forgetting to breathe. Not that it mattered. She listened for a heart beat. Ah! There is was. A young one. Pure. Morrigan gasped for fresh air, then glanced at her current partner and winked. She would let the other go first. The vampiress wanted to hear the female scream.

Malise gave a smirk. She had been somewhat perplexed by the strange behaviour Morrigan had displayed...the odd purring noise she'd given, and the strange look on her face. What was it she'd experienced...? Granted, the thrill of the kill was indeed a pleasurable thing, but Malise had never experienced anything quite on that scale.

The couple also seemed perplexed, more by the sudden appearance of another entity in front of them, and by the wink. The male was first to turn around and see who it was Morrigan had been winking to-
And it was then Malise thrust her left hand forward like a talon, grabbing at his right eye and literally plucking it out with perfect precision and lightning speed.

For a moment time seemed to stand still, and Malise observed the blue iris that seemed to stare back at her, before rolling the item in her hand, to the baseline of both male and female screaming in terror.

The sound was incredible. Virtuoso. It had been a long time since she'd had the delights of torture, and the screams were like sweet music to her ears as she suddenly snapped her head forward and silenced the lower of the two pitches with a pair of fangs to the throat, gorging on the sweet life-giving liquid within. She had little in the way of table-manners, digging her regular teeth in deep as well as her fangs, not caring how much of a mess she made.
The male's partner for the evening found herself immobilised with horror at what was going on, yet her shrill screams still pierced the otherwise silent night, awaiting the silence that Morrigan would inevitably bring.

Morrigan's eyebrows raised. She found it amusing that Malise had revealed the male of one of his eyes. A strong, roaring laugh escaped her. She had not seen such gore for too many years! The screaming echoed in her perfect ears as the engery of passion was cut short. Lust was gone. Love, dispair, confusion, and terrible fear flowed from the female like a flood. Sweet.

Malise had her share and Morrigan watched. Obviously, this one was a savage eater. Morrigan felt like something more dramatic for herself this evening. As the woman stood there, hands on her wet face, the vampiress slipped next to her and grabbed a hand full of thick hair. She yanked the prey off the ground, tangling her fingers in the curls. The woman's hands instinctively reached for her neck. It was hopeless. Her attacker shook her furiously. But she did not scream. There was no possible way her life would end like this. She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her face.

Morrigan pulled the thoart close to her mouth and let it linger there. Fear and surrender radiated from the girl, now. Too easy. Her nails dug into the flesh, releasing red that poured down the limp body. Slowly, she forced her fangs into the skin waiting for the vein to burst. Suddenly, warmth and life gushed into her mouth, soothing the thirst. Morrigan closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of peace. The girl's life flashed quickly through her brain. Nothing unusual.

At last, the blood flow slowed and the vampiress pulled back. Her hand let go of the corpse, hair and blood clinging to the fingers and nails. Her pink tongue licked a little blood from her bottom lip. She looked at Malice and nodded with approval.

Tossing the now lifeless and bloodied male body to the ground with a wet thud, Malise took a second to work her tongue all around the outside of her mouth, which was, of course, utterly covered in the sweet redness that formerly breathed life into the male's every cell, but now instead only served as nutrition for her sadistic body.

She had kept an eye on Morrigan's feeding with a glint of approval. Oh, very novel she thought to herself. She'd not seen it done like that before. Had they been out of sight, perhaps in a basement, she might have invited Morrigan to investigate the human pain threshold...one thing from her mortal life was that she had been a nurse...perhaps the only thing she did remember, and so had a lot of knowledge of both dispensing and alleviating pain.

The bottom half of her face was still covered in gore, but she didn't care. It had been fun. She used her sleeve to wipe away what she could, but nevertheless it still smeared, making her effort more or less useless.
"Now that we've quenched our thirst for now, I suppose we should be introduced, no?" she said, that slight Russian twang noticeable on her 'r' sounds. She extended her slender right hand to Morrigan, still rolling the eyeball about in her other hand. "I am Malise..."

The other vampiress still had blood on her face, which made Morrigan smile. Old, cold visions of warriors covered with blood, sweat, and guts came to her. She liked this one. She brought back memories. Morbid memories, though they be, they were cherished ones. Morrigan's fondest moments were on battle fields that laid hidden beneath thousands of bodies. Grand were the wars of vampires. Then, it was every mortal and immortal for themselves. Now, there was peace for the most part. Peace that allowed Morrigan to accept the hand of Malise, a vampire she did not know.

Morrigan shook Malise's hand firmly. "I am Morrigan...from the Emerald Isle," she told Malise, proudly. These days it seemed only places mattered. Tribes, families, and scars were not important.

Morrigan's head flicked, suddenly, towards the street. She sensed a group of mortals coming. Intoxicated. One was angry, she could feel it from here. Tucking her hands into her pockets she looked at the bodies. Bliss would call it art. Amadahy, yes, she knew about her, would worry about them. Morrigan just stared blankly.

"Well, Malise, I'm sure you can hear them coming. Do you want to feed, again? Flee? Or dispose of the bodies," Morrigan asked, curious what Malise did after attack. Every vampire was different.

"Dispose?" Malise gave a chortle as she looked down on the two lifeless lumps. "Leave them...why waste valuable energy cleaning up this mess?" To her, humans were little more than a necessary worthlessness; she needed them to feed, but that was about where her care for their existence ended. As long as she got a meal, everything else could be left to rot.

Malise too reflected on wars she'd frequented. They weren't trenches. They weren't bunkers. They were restaurants. Her favourite had been the Russian Front in the First World War. Lieutenants were so easy to get hold of if one plied one's way correctly. Being female had a perk or two. It got one into places where the cruder sex could not so easily go.

Malise did not know what the Emerald Isle was. But better to keep one's mouth shut and be thought an idiot than to open one's mouth and prove it. It wasn't what you knew, but what others thought you knew.

"Well, it's up to you what we do next. We can gorge on those cretins over there..." she nodded, indicating the group of drunkards, "or we can go somewhere for a drink, maybe? The night is young, and I've no plans to find a dark corner to haunt just yet."

Leave them to rot, the other had said. An uncommon thing now days. Many new vampires were afraid of being discovered or causing curiousity among the living. Apparently, this one did not think that way. That was fine with Morrigan.

What to do next? Morrigan had to stop day-dreaming about war, which was difficult. The sounds of flesh slicing and bones breaking filled her ears. A decent crowd would be nice. Hundreds would great. Morrigan felt through her most recent memories. There was a rave of mortals only a few blocks away. Fives blocks away there was a club. Rave or club?

"Let's head to the nearest club. We'll be passing a rave on the way there. If you like, we may stop there," Morrigan said, more suggesting than demanding.

The vampiress straightened her clothes and started walked towards the club. The fresh blood pumped through her like fire making her cheeks pink.

It had been a long time since Malise had been part of a massacre. Usually they'd been solo, but clearly Morrigan had an anarchic streak in her as well. Excellent. The two would get along splendidly.

She put her hand to the back of her neck to eradicate an itch, but found that the cause for the itch was that her long ebony locks had managed to fall out of their ponytail. She tied her hair up using itself as the knot and bobble, before proceeding to follow on, making sure to dig her heel into the man's mouth before stepping off without breaking stride. The dental record would now be inaccurate.

Malise didn't care who saw her when she fed. She was more than capable of taking a number of humans on without breaking a sweat. Most of them were just scared witless, though, and that was fine by her. The more fear in the heart of the victim, the more utterly delicious the blood tasted. Perhaps it was the extra adrenaline and endorphin...sort of complimented the flavour somehow.

"I take it the booze will be as free flowing as the blood at this rave?" she asked, hopeful. Maybe it was her Russian heritage, but liquor was second on her list of body needs after blood. Not necessarily alcoholic, but if she had been human she might well have been.

There was one thing missing, Malise thought, an instrument of torture. Even a rusty butter-knife would do.

It would not take a vampire to hear the noise caused by the rave. Morrigan stopped and stared. Hundreds of mortals were dancing and drinking at the local park. Three bands stood at random places blasting curses through very large amps. There were, undoubtably, other Dark Children among the mortals. No vampires older than eighty years.

"Yes, they have alcohol," Morrigan told Malise the obvious. "I suppose they have drugs as well. You have to be careful with that sometimes." Her eyes searched over the bouncing crowd. It moved like an angry ocean. Images of enemies fixed themselves into her head. Barbarians with mead.

"So, do you care to stop for awhile?" She asked the other, not caring too much what they did.

Drugs could present an issue, depending on the drug. Any intoxicant's potency could easily be passed from victim to vampire, which is why Malise preferred those who had had a few units of alcohol. They weren't just tastier; one got to wine while they dined, in a rather crude way. The licqeur chocolate taken to its extreme.

Unsure as to what Morrigan meant by 'stopping for a while', Malise gave a quizzical look. Did she mean stop hunting? Stop in town? Or leave this group of yobs for the time being and come back for them after having had a couple of drinks of their own.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked. Her thirst was not raging at her throat; she did not have to feed, if Morrigan had some other idea lined up.

Morrigan picked up Malise's look. "We could draw out a few of these mortals and "play" with them. You seem to like torture. Thought you might get a kick out of it," the vampiress explained herself. "We could even drag them to the club and mess with them there."

Just then a boy fell out of a wave and landed at Morrigan's feet. She laughed and helped him up. He was drenched from head to toe and smelt of blood and beer. She did not detect any drugs on this one. He stared at the two of them, bewildered. It was not every day he saw angels.

"Y'all angels? You're...fuckin' beautiful," the boy blurted, apparently intoxicated. He glanced between the both of them, mouth gaped open. Morrigan smiled.

Quite obviously, the boy was totally out of his tree, if he could honestly describe Malise as an 'Angel', or 'fuckin' beautiful'. All one had to do was to look at her eyes. Then again, if one asked him to count her eyes, he probably would have given some impossible number like five.

"Here..." She stroked her hand seductively against his slightly swaying side, using her Russian accent to put a detectable purr on her 'R' sound, "give me a kiss."
She didn't want a kiss. She just needed an excuse to get to his tongue. Everyone knew how much biting one's tongue hurt, but very few had pierced the muscular flesh to the artery beneath.

She gave a wry wink to Morrigan, subtly nodding around the corner of the club as if to tell her to wait there. When his friends noticed he hadn't come back in, they'd come and investigate. She'd make a lot of noise as she kissed this little cretin, and since she knew just how much men thought with their phalli as opposed to their brains, they'd all want a piece of the action. And they'd get it, too, along with a piece of their tongues ripped out, or worse.

Already her mind had a germination of torture. She envisaged thrusting her hand down his throat to grab at his larynx...just the sound of his voice had made her want to destroy any chance of him ever making another sound like it.

Morrigan grinned and shook her hand. And I thought I was sick sometimes! Morrigan let the vampiress play; she walked away from the park and waited at the club. Letting herself melt into shadow slightly she was hidden against the wall of the club. People walked by without noticing her, like usual. The urge to smoke came to her as a man whipping out a pack stopped feet away.

Morrigan just stayed there and watched him. Smoking was almost pointless for her. She would rather suck his blood. After several minutes she glanced at the park to where Malise. She was not impatient, just wondering.

((ooc: I'm sorry about the short pathetic post! I'm so busy!))

((ooc: Don't worry about it. I'll have to bring in some food for Morrigan though :P although I have to admit I thought we were both directly outside the club otherwise those louts would have been my target :P ))

Malise commenced kissing the cretinous wretch she held in her arms. She felt the desire to douse her entire body in scalding-hot water just from the fact he'd touched her, and to drink a glass of the same water to remove the blemish the idea that his lips had met with hers.

Plus, even the kiss itself was very piggish. Even Bobrov had been a better kisser.
And that was when it began. The very thought of that one name from her past filled her with an impossible rage. Her hands clenched at the sides of his waist, fingers almost burrowing through the skin, and he would have yelped in pain had she not sunk her fangs straight into the body of his tongue. Her eyes were filled with pure hatred, as though somehow the kiss had transformed this poor drunken soul into Bobrov, the man who had sired her for his own personal enjoyment, and had kept her there for night on night, year on year, praying to a God she soon lost faith in for it all to end.

Her arms shook as her strength focused itself into her hands, and they dug deep into his flesh, blood oozing from the punctures in his abdoment as she bored her teeth straight into the blood vessels of his tongue and was soon sucking and lapping up the blood from within.

One part of her wanted to use the purchase she had in his abdomen to tear him apart, while the other part just wanted to drain him of every drop of life within him.
She decided to stick with the latter, although her left index finger did manage to reach his kidney before she finally released his dead body to the ground, her mind still filled with a burning rage, which she then proceeded to take out on the wall of the club, punching it time after time until tiny chunks of mortar and bricks began to crumble away and her hands bled profusely. She screamed in a manner more befitting a feral animal than someone of over four centuries of maturity.

After a few moments, the rage subsided, and she propped her back up against the wall, sliding herself down it in melancholy, her arms still shaking like leaves.

The smoking man must have been teasing her! The way he sucked on the cigarette, it was seductive. Morrigan pulled a pack of camels out of a pocket and dropped them at her feet. The sound turned the man's head. Morrigan sensed a spark of excitement from the mortal as he bent over to pick up the free smokes. As he rose up he noticed something in the shadows. He leaned forward to see better...

Morrigan grabbed his neck and dug her cruel fangs into his neck. She found no joy in sucking his neck; joy only came in the blood that rushed into her dead body. The vampiress sucked him dry and tossed him aside.

Alas, Malise was approaching. Correction, Malise was storming this way.

Morrigan said nothing; her face was serene as ever. Dividing from the darkness she appeared whole beside Malise. The warrior did touch her. A vampire in rage was not touchable. Instead, she squated down to eye level and tilted her head.

"Bad food?" Morrigan's words sounded strange.

Malise clenched her fists time and again, trying to work the endorphines into her hands to kill off the pain that now came from her savagely bleeding knuckles.
She was no longer blinded by her rage, and the red mist had cleared.

She rocked back and forth against the wall, her eyes no longer seething, but instead numb and dumbstruck. Why had that name popped into her head? Of all the things that could've sprung to her mind, why Bobrov?
It was something she'd long tried to forget, but scars such as that ran deep.

"It wasn't the food. Just...past, catching up with me at an odd moment."
She looked up to Morrigan. "Forgive me for making a scene," she said, her voice flat and monotonous, "I think my slender grip on sanity forsook me quite a while ago..."

The warrior listened intently. Morrigan could not help but smirk. Was a vampire ever sane completely? Who could join the undead without losing grip on reality? No one. Even those with a noble cause, such as Morrigan's. Turning dark to save the day. She, too, lost grip long ago.

It was safe to touch Malise. Morrigan pat the vampire's shoulder casually. An odd gesture, Morrigan thought. She pushed herself back up and offered an unneeded hand. "The past often bites you back. It will all become a dream one day. Just enjoy the blood." She bowed her head, smiling at Malise through dark curls.

Malise took her cohort's hand, using it to hoist herself back to her feet. Her legs were like jelly, and keeping her balance wasn't so easy. Morrigan's words were the very ones she lived by. 'Just enjoy the blood'.

"We should make ourselves scarce...somewhere quiet and out of the way. And has free-flowing vodka."

She gave a sly smile. Vodka made the world go round, and not just because of its intoxicating properties. It was second only to blood in Malise's standing.

"Care to join me in a drink? It's on me...but you'd have to show me where. I've only just arrived here, and I do not know where the drinking pits are."

The vodka had a second use other than being guzzled. She could use it to help clean the concrete-dust out of her knuckles. Even as she moved her fingers she could feel something abrading beneath the skin.

((ooc: I'm just making up a place, but we can take this to the club section if ya want.))

"Vodka," Morrigan repeated. "This place has vodka. Follow me, please." She turned the corner and looked up. A bright purple sign flashed "Purple Darkness" down on the crowd. The line of hopeful drinkers was at least an hour long, but Morrigan walked right past it to the door. The bouncer ignored her for a second to let three young men in. He nodded at Morrigan.

"Business?" He asked Morrigan. She was a frequent visitor.

"No. Pleasure," she replied, flashing her fangs. The bouncer grinned back. He bore fangs was well. Without asking for I.D. he opened the door for Morrigan and her guest.

The vampiress turned to Malise. "Come on. I bet they have every vodka there is."

((Ooc: If you make the thread in the clubs section, link me :) Until then I'll keep this post short to leave that up to you))

Down every winding alley and empty street, Malise followed her new cohort. Upon seeing the bouncer, she'd instantly realised what this place was.
A vampire nightclub, Malise thought, interesting.

She didn't need to flash her fangs, even if she ever did bother to retract them. Her eyes would have been clear enough a sign.

One of the hopeful punters piped up that there was a line, and made no bones about complaining that Malise and Morrigan had bypassed it.

"When it gets to the front," Malise said to the bouncer, "let him in. I think I fancy a Bloody Mary."

It didn't take a genius to guess that the redness in Malise's idea of a Bloody Mary wasn't tomato juice...

Malise followed Morrigan into the club, eyes instantly scanning for the bar. Unconsciously, her arms tucked tightly against her side, defensively. This many vampires she didn't know and couldn't touch. She must be cautious.

((ooc: I'll keep it here for the moment. The club full of vampires sounds kinda fun.))

The club suited it's name. The pitch black was peirced with dizzying lasers and white fog. The slick, red dance floor covered most of the walking space and held up a large throb of bouncing immortals and mortals. Strange music screamed from a balcony where a tall, red-headed DJ danced. There was no band or stage and the bar was almost empty. Morrigan paused at the entrance for a moment, apparently scanning for someone she knew. She spotted such a person at the bar. The vampiress gestured Malise to follow. Of course, Malise was more than welcome to help herself to the floor or the dark corners.

Morrigan was sure Malise might feel uncomfortable in such a bar. Rightfully so. Morrigan acted much more relaxed, but kept her guard up. Most of the swarm was very, very vampires. New vampires were probably being born in the back as Morrigan walked to the bar and tapped a man on the shoulder.

"Bitch! I haven't seen you in ages!" It was a older man with silver streaks in his black hair. His blue eyes looked the two female vampires over.

"Hello, Thomas," Morrigan said with a cool, sweet voice, "This is Malise." She pointed a thumb at the other vampiress. Thomas winked at Malise, as he does to everyone and finished his blood drink with a quick gulp.

"Nice to meet ya." He bowed his head. "Been here before?"

Malise shook her head calmly, almost distantly. She discreetly kept her hands out of his view. The cuts and bruises would heal quickly, but for now she wished she had a pair of gloves, if only to keep them concealed. The last thing she needed around a group of vampires was to set a bad impression.

"No. First night in this town...although I expect I'll come back, if the liquor isn't watered down."

Her twisted eyes cast their gaze over the entire bar, taking in every detail. Who was talking to who, their body language showing who had power and who did not. The location of the exits, both conventional and less so; taking the high road was possible here, as the aesthetically-notched supporting pillars made for an easy climb.
She didn't see vampires, humans or anything else. She saw only threats, and this made her rather uncomfortable. One vampire she usually found tolerable, and easy to make acquaintance with...in a room with hundreds, she always felt ill-at-ease.

She suppressed these feelings as best she could, burying them deep down out of view, and instead tried to maintain a neutral appearance.
She had to admit she liked the lasers. They looked unusual. She'd never seen them before, and found her less cautious eye drawn to watching them carve dizzying patterns in the very air.

She snapped out of this momentary lapse in awareness, and turned her attention back to Thomas. "It is nice to meet you also."

Thomas nodded. "Watch out, Morrigan is trouble!" He told Malise, winking at Morrigan. The warrior just rolled her eyes and looked around. It was a bit too crowded for her liking. She would not stay long.

"What have you been up to?" He asked Morrigan, catching her attention. She turned back to him.

"Nothing really. Two of my spawn are in town," she explained, "One made a vampire of his own."

"Which ones?" Thomas asked.

"Bliss and Drakeon."

Thomas chuckled. He knew Bliss. "Let me guess...he made the new vampire?"

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Yes, indeed he did. A female. Amadahy."

"Don't know her."

"You wouldn't. Just a young punk. I'm really close to killing her. Her emotions are getting the best of her." Morrigan sighed. It was true. Amadahy was becoming a problem.

Just then another man approached, tapping Thomas on the shoulder. He was mortal. Thomas stood up and bowed to the vampiresses. "They need me. I'll see you later?" He asked her. Morrigan did not answer, only smirked. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away. The warrior faced Malise.

"So, what do you think of place?" Morrigan asked Malise, smirk gone.

(Can Nicolas play?)

((ooc: I don't see why not :) ))

Malise had been distantly observing a few of the others, while making sure to get a drink from the bar, which she gulped in about the same time as a heartbeat. Good. It wasn't watered down. Unusual for clubs; usually the vodka was only about 40% vodka. Given vodka itself was only about 50% alcohol, you ended up only getting about 20% potency...nowhere near enough. And it tasted god-awful.

"Interesting," was her rather non-committal reply.

She had been casually overhearing the talk about spawns and making other people. She had done that once. And every time she thought of it it made her sick to the stomach. Subconsciously her hand brushed against the side of her throat, as though it felt cold...somehow as if it belonged to someone other than her.

Her mind wandered, and she looked down to her feet, not really knowing what to say or do. She looked a little forlorn.

"I'm sorry...my mind is in three places at once at the moment. I need to relax, haha."

Her laugh was a nervous one, but it allowed her to regain some composure.

"Indeed," Morrigan said, noting Malise's uneasy laugh. "I, too, need to relax." Morrigan helped herself to a stool. A bartender asked what she wanted. She smirked and began to say something, but something made her stop.

"I'll have a Captain and coke, please," she told him. The drink was served quickly and Morrigan tipped a great amount. She sipped on the drink. It was too strong. Oh, well. She let her senses reach out. That is when it hit her. Her eyes narrowed. Her mind shields went up. Could have been a mistake, but unlikely.

"What's troubling you?" Morrigan asked Malice, still watching the crowd over her shoulder. She knew Malise may not be willing to share personal information, but offering a listening ear was worth a shot.

Malise felt claustrophobic around this many vampires...understandable. She couldn't even raise a finger in self-defence if one decided to pick a fight. That was why she kept out of the way a lot of the time.
"Nothing," she lied. It was an obvious lie. She wished neither to talk about Bobrov or about her fear of the situation.

Bobrov. The very name stirred up her anger once more. But sadly, there was nowhere to vent that anger. No brick wall upon which she could empty her frustration.

Instead it was forced to fester behind those brooding pupilless eyes as she demanded another vodka.

"How long have you been in this town?" she asked of Morrigan, desperate to try and divert her mind from the subject. Her slender grip on sanity would be well and truly broken if her mind continued to chew over her problems...

Morrigan took Malise's "nothing" as "I don't want to talk about". She understood completely. With a gulp she downed the rest of her drink and ordered another. This time telling the bartender she wanted a tall.

Morrigan was intrigued why this mortal, the bartender, did not mind working among vampires. Surely, he know his risk of living more than a season. It was likely he was a "ghoul", a mortal teased with vampire blood; stuck between desire for life and wishes for death. Morrigan had never tried this before. She did not like the idea. "Ghouls" tended to be always lustful for their master's blood, blindly loyal, and thoughtless. Morrigan prefered children that thought on their own.

Malise asked Morrigan question. She caught it just before it slipped through her entirely. How long had she been here? Time did not matter to her that much. Actually, she hated clocks and calendars. Someone her age would find clocks useless. Time patterns did change over the years and centuries, but the changes were easy to keep up with. Morrigan guessed time in her head. She knew how far away sunrise was...but what day of the year was it?

"I'm not sure," Morrigan replied. She chuckled. "I believe I've been in Demaitre for a few months at least." She took another sip of the rum mixture. Just right. "How long have you been here?" Now that Morrigan thought about it, Malise was not in her records.

Nicolas walked into the bar, his blond hair lay loose on his shoulders and his blue eyes shone with his latest kill. He wore a pair of loose brown leather pants and a white t-shirt, the girl who accompanied him wore a simple black halter-top dress. For once he was not being followed by one of his fledglings, Andriette was still mad at him and Amorisa was most likely hunting.

His entrance was noticed by most of the bar, not many vampires lived to be 2,000, and most of the vampires weren't even to the 126 years he had on top of that. But one was.

Morrigan was here, Andriette would be mad at him, but to quite honest he didn't really care. The fledgling had grown mouthy in his abcense and even though he loved her he wasn't above beating her for her own good.

He made his way to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, his companion took a sip then suddenly passed out on the counter. Nicolas pretended to whisper into her ear and came up licking his lips, "Poor Dear..."

He swirled his glass and breathed in the aroma of the expensive wine, then turned and looked across the room at Morrigan. Hello...

"First night," Malise admitted. "I only just got here."

She looked across to the antics of the newcomer who'd just arrived in the club. He didn't impress her much. Just some other vampire trying to look hard by eating.

Oh look at me, I can suck blood! She rolled her eyes scornfully (not to mention invisibly). She said nothing, though, just keeping her drink close by. It should offer some escape from this riff-raff.

"I'm surprised there are enough morsels for all the vampires...especially with more and more being made even before my eyes." She commented. There was an unusual concentration of vampires here. You'd think somebody would have noticed the large number of disappearances, or the lack of reflections in mirrors, or at least the number of people you saw who didn't work. Kind of hard to work a day-shift for a vampire, of course. Malise just killed the rich toffs and stole their cash. There was no shame in it. That was her job. The Romanov family had been a particularly good score, she remembered.

"First night? You'll enjoy Demaitre," Morrigan said. She nodded to Malise's comment. "There are too many vampires. But the Dark population lives in cycles. Soon, the amount of blood-suckers will decrease, again. Fights, arrogance, and confusion ruin most vampires. The old ones...we're just lucky it seems. I don't believe in luck, but it's intriguing to watch much better vampires than myself vanish."

Morrigan's senses proved true. Nicolas was here. A shiver she could not control crawled up her spine. Why did she let him get to her? Her heart skipped a beat. She did not want to search for the answer. Trying not to stare she glanced at him. Damn it. He was staring back. Morrigan bit her lip. Fear was holding her back. A daring battle with a dragon? Sounds fun. Approach Nicolas? Foolish.

Inside she battled with herself. Unsure if she leave the club or talk to Nicolas. It seemed his fedglings were not with him tonight. Morrigan thought that was interesting. The idea of introducing Malise just crossed her mind. Morrigan stood up and spoke to Malise.

"I see an old friend," Morrigan said, half lying. Nicolas was surely not a friend. "I'm going to speak with him. You may join me if you like." She paused for a moment to give Malise time to answer.

Malise looked back at Nicolas, and then back at her with a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'are you for real? He is your friend?'
After a second or two of doing so, she shrugged, as if to say 'each to their own, I suppose'.
She had a habit of using body language to say things her conscious mind that controlled her mouth diplomatically realised it was better to not utter.

"Sure. I'll come along." she said with a nod at last. Even if her first impression of Nicolas had not been a good one, she surmised it was better to know the names of more people. You never knew who mught prove useful, or who might be able to do you a favour. Even people you wouldn't normally care for.

She didn't really understand what Morrigan had meant about luck, or vanishing. Arrogance? It was easy to be arrogant when it came to the morsels (an easy interchangeable with 'mortal' in Malise's vocabulary), but why would a vampire be confused? What about?

She said nothing about this, however. Better to say nothing and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and prove it.

Morrigan adjusted her clothes; a habit she could never break. Every step towards Nicolas felt heavier than the last. Embrassing. She thought for a moment how her sire would act. Brave and all knowing. Of course, her sire was much older than Nicolas. Camlin's strength and wisdom was far beyond hers, so he had a reason behind his cockiness. Morrigan was not cocky. Her bravery usually came from fear. Her fear of fear.

"Nicolas," she summoned his attention. "How are you?" Her voice held some bitterness. It would take long for someone to see they were not friend, but rivals in past. Morrigan's old ways of thinking stirred up. Many centuries ago communicating with Nicolas would have been betrayal.

Nicolas sipped a bit of the wine, enjoying the soft bitterness of it. It had been a long time since he'd had good wine, he wondered if Andriette kept any in the house.

Morrigan had been forgotten in the momentary enjoyment of his wine, but he kept tabs on her as she moved across the crowded room. She was bringing another vampire with her, but this one was young. Not half his age if his estimate was right, she seemed confidant, full of herself, more arrogance he couldn't stand. At least not in anyone, but himself. Maybe he should have brought Amorisa, just to keep it fair.

He turned on his stool to face her as she neared him, leaning back on the bar, seemingly relaxed and at ease. "I've been better, but I've been worse." He looked at her with his crystal blue eyes, they had both seen the climb of civilization. He and Morrigan were probably two of the oldest vampires in this town.

Malise took the look Nicolas gave her with a pinch of salt. Chances are he liked her about as much as she liked him, but she didn't suppose it mattered. Her acquaintancy with Morrigan probably cast a dim view on her, given the obvious tension in their voices.

"'Evening." was all Malise could bring herself to say. She wanted to remain noncommital, and keep out of any quarrel they might find themselves in. It was none of her business. Not that she could have lended assistance to either of them anyway.

Morrigan slowly bowed her head to Nicolas; a habit of the old world. She fully understood what the vampire meant. "Allow me introduce Malise. A vampiress I meet just tonight. We shared a couple on the street. The pair was quite delicious," Morrigan said, gesturing to Malise. Hopely, her conflicts with Nicolas would not hinder his view on Malise. That is why Morrigan mentioned they only just met. She would not want such a vampire going up against a young one. It was not fair. Of course, Nicolas was probably was wiser than to assume they were in league.

After the introduction, Morrigan was not sure what to say. Causing a scene in a place like a club was not her style. Besides, she did not want to fight Nicolas. He seemed to be relaxed. No point in poking a sleeping serpent.

"Alone tonight, Nicolas?" Morrigan asked, trying to strike up a peaceful conversation.

Nicolas took the youngster's welcome as a side note, she was to young to be any concern to him, and his buisness was with Morrigan any way.

"Yes, Morrigan. Andriette and Amorisa decided not to join me, they seem to think I would cause trouble." He grinned a little as he took another small sip of his wine, Andriette would be having kittens if she knew he was here, and Amorisa was better off not getting between two vampires as old as he and Morrigan.

"But we both know I would never do such a thing." He set his drink down on the counter and motioned to the empty stool to his left, "Care to sit? I have a buisness proposition."