bianca solderini (poisonandpearls) wrote in bibliophagic, @ 2011-04-15 12:02:00 |
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It had been a long, long time since Bianca had set foot in America. It had always been much easier to avoid others of her kind in Europe and Asia as long as one avoided the large cities, and for the time being, at least, Venice was hers, any other Immortals being young and choosing to stay out of her way. She had been content enough in her old home for a couple of years now, and many years before that, but she still felt the need to wander, traveling from city to city as she wished, only leaving when she sensed another vampire similar in age to her. She didn't fear the others, exactly; there was just no desire to interact with them, get to know them. Mortals were so much easier to deal with. Getting attached to a mortal and having them leave, or leaving them, never seemed to be as painful as getting tangled up with another vampire. Her kind were very good at hurting each other.
Why she had chosen San Francisco was something of a loss to her; it had been random, a starting point. As far as she knew the population there consisted of gangs of young vampires, with the occasional elder drifting through. Many still came looking for the infamous Vampire Lestat, she supposed. Personally, she had no intention of looking for him, or anyone else. She could move on in a day or two, but for now the sea air was soothing, and the bustle of such a diverse crowd of mortals was refreshing. It was a lively city, certainly. Not somewhere she could settle for any amount of time, she didn't think, but for the moment she had a little stretch of beach to herself, the only noise the crash of the waves on the shore. Distantly, she could hear a group gathered around a bonfire, their voices catching on the edge of her consciousness, along with the smell of smoke and charred wood. If she wanted to, she could have concentrated on them, picked up their conversation, the music they had put on.
She didn't. Instead, she slipped off her shoes, wriggling her toes in the cool sand. Even after all her years alive, she still loved the feeling, the realness it had never had when she was a mortal woman. A faint smile was on her face as she moved closer to the water, the wind whipping her loose hair around her face and shoulders, the curls tangling in a way she would probably be bothered about later, but couldn't care about now. Her steps barely left indentions in the sand; any marks she made would be quickly blown away or washed off by the ocean. The water was cool, and she crouched to pick up a shell, shoving the sleeves of her sweater up to avoid getting them wet. The hem of her skirt wasn't so lucky. For a few seconds she was content to study the small shell in her hand, watching it glint wetly in the moonlight. Her reverie was broken as she heard a slow, steady heartbeat approaching. She stiffened, rising, her senses scanning for who it was. Another vampire, but their thoughts were not audible. That either meant one who could mask their thoughts well enough, a skill learned over time. Or it was -- Bianca sucked in a sharp breath, the shell clutched tightly in one hand.
She turned to flee.