Grace Freeman (vamp_enforcer) wrote in btvsal, @ 2011-03-14 21:13:00 |
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Current location: | Avarice |
Current mood: | calm |
Entry tags: | grace freeman, place: la, rachelle martin-bale |
Befriending Mortals
Who: Grace and Rachelle
Where: Avarice
When: Saturday Night, 3/12
Normally Grace wouldn't go to Avarice to just hang out. While the place was her style a little (although she was a little more biker than teenage wannabe), she worked for Benjamin Bale in an 'extra special' fashion that usually led to her not wanting to be seen around there too much. However, tonight he was off at his stripper club, so they wouldn't run into each other. Plus, Grace just needed to get out. She had been either cooped up in her own home or doing work too much lately. She needed to let loose a little. She walked up to the bar and got herself a drink from one of the bartenders.
As had become damn near a HOBBY lately, Rachelle was spending some of her free time at Avarice, snarking it up with Kayla, who was bartending tonight. The two had built up an almost hilariously comical chemistry together, one that even Neely got a kick out of watching. But for now, while Kay was off helping a few other customers, Chelle just stood by the bar, wearing a plaid schoolgirl skirt, black combat boots, and a nicely snug-fitting Red Sox t-shirt, with a backwards Sox cap on her head. Beer in hand, she was poundin' them down like a seasoned PRO.
Well now, wasn't this just interesting? Grace actually knew all about Ben's extended family. Hell, it was her job to know everything about people and exploit weaknesses. While she had no interest in exploiting Ben at all, learning everything about people was still something of a hobby, let's say. So, she knew exactly who Chelle was. "Someone who drinks like that has been doing it for a very long time," she said playfully to Chelle.
At first, Chelle didn't bother looking. "YOU come from a house where you're the only chick in a house with FIVE fuckin' guys, and you'll learn to handle yer shit at a REAL young age." Then she turned her head and almost spit her drink out. "Holy Hot Bitch, Batman..."
"That's something I can understand." Grace had grown up with several brothers way long ago, after all. She gave Chelle a smile when she commented about her looks. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself." A bit tom boy, but that's part of what made her interesting.
"Dude. Of COURSE I'm not so bad. I got a set of cannons that could bring down a battleship." Ahh... obviously being married to Neely had done wonders for SOMEONE'S esteem, hm? "You're totally a vampire, huh." Well, at least she'd started to be able to notice subtle things about people to be able to tell!
Grace tilted her head and smiled. "Aren't we observant tonight?" She actually liked it when people surprised her. It happened so rarely these days, after all. She was old enough that she had learned the general behavioral patterns of people. "What gave me away?"
"Nothing major... just that living with a werewolf I tend to learn things to look for. Like the fact that while we're talking? You've not taken ONE breath. Your stomach hasn't moved at ALL. Also? Hello... unless you're a albino, you're pale as HELL."
"I was actually quite pale when I was alive. My owner was a bit of a night owl when I was still among the living." Grace had actually been a serf in life Interesting fact right there. "So some things never change."
"Your owner? What, were you a slave? Or employed by the Yankees?" Oooo... a Steinbrenner crack FOR THE WIN, folks.
Grace chuckled. She actually followed sports a little (mainly for conversations with marks), so she at least got the joke. "A serf, to be technical. Same thing, though, as a slave. Just a Slavic term."
"Oh. WHEW. So not a Yankees employee. Thank God. Then I'd have to walk away right now. Vampires I can deal with. People that like or work for that fucking Evil Empire? Not a fucking chance." Rachelle, people. Ever the pinnacle of priorities.
Grace just laughed. "Actually, I'm an employee of your...cousin-in-law, I guess I could call him. And I'm NOT a stripper." Grace was a dancer, but she was certainly NOT a stripper, thank you.
"You in a band then? Or an agent for the record company?" She asked, not exactly sure WHAT all Ben was involved in. Not that anything would shock her at this point...
"I'm actually one of his body guards," she said smoothly. Grace was a perfect liar at this point, not that calling herself a body guard was even that huge of a lie. "People less observant than you don't really expect that I can bench press them."
"Ohhhhhhhh...." Rachelle smirked, realizing what she meant then. Oh, from talking to Neely AND to Skylar, she knew by now that Ben was essentially a little werewolf Don Corleone... this made sense now. "That's WAY hotter than it should be."
Grace chuckled. "I get that a lot," she admitted, usually from her own 'team' members. She really didn't look like she would be worth much in a fight if you went strictly on her looks. Boy would you be surprised if you tried something funny with her.
"Well... DUH... have you seen yourself? Oh. Yeah. The mirror thing. Guess not. Well, take it from me. You're fuckin' SMOKIN', ok?" Chelle laughed, shrugging her shoulders.
"No reflective surfaces at all, actually," she said, Pictures actually did work. The wonders of modern technology. "I remember what I look like, though."
"You should swing by my bar sometime. It's always a great time. Next week we're gonna have a night where anyone who brings in a piece of Yankees merch and destroys it in the middle of the place gets free wings." Wow. The worst part there was that she was SERIOUS. "Of course, I also pimp my joint out like an old-school whore, so..."
"I may have to come by there, actually." Not that she was broke or anything, but she could certainly get a hold of some Yankees merch to destroy. Plus, this girl was utterly entertaining to talk to. Grace also happened to like hot wings.
"I should have Ben send you to New York, to bite Derek Jeter. Although my luck, fucker will live, become a vamp, and end up hitting like 130 home runs a year." Sadly, this was really Chelle's brain at work here. She almost always thought about sex, music, or sports.
"If Ben really wanted me to do that, I would make sure that Jeter didn't live." Grace's services came at a high price, but Grace was VERY good at her job. She simply didn't fuck up when asked to do something.
"Goddammit... I wish Ben hated the fucking Yankees." Chelle muttered, shaking her head. "Anyway... I should probably head upstairs. Neely should be home soon, and I kinda wanna tear that ass UP."
Grace chuckled. "Don't let me stop you from doing that then," she said with a slight wave. She had seen Neely plenty of times. The girl was quite lovely to look at, she had to admit.
"Later, babe!" Chelle laughed, winking as she turned to head over to the stairs... yep. She was about to POUNCE Neely.