Nikita Vostrikova (trickylittlegun) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-10-11 22:43:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 2009-08-23, nikita |
no one sings like you anymore
Who: Zhari and Nikita
When: Evening
Where: The bar where Zhari works
Nikita was feeling... well, pretty damn good was the only phrase that seemed to come to mind. She had indulged herself in a bit of her newly acquired stash of drugged blood; to be more specific, she had drank a pint of the stoner fire elemental's blood and a pint of Kiara -- her new favorite siren--'s spiked blood. Nikita had wanted to forget her worries for an evening and she was well on her way to doing just that. Her mind felt light, like it had been padded with cotton. Her skin was humming, not only because the effects of the drugged blood had dulled her senses, but the fire elemental blood made her skin feel warm, both inside and out. And then there was the siren in the mix. Nikita was well aware of what drinking Kiara's blood would do to her and that was exactly why she had taken some in the first place. She was lonely, truth be told, and she was looking for someone to make her bed a little less so -- at least for the night. "This place looks good.*" When Nikita was intoxicated, her words flopped out of her mouth, making them difficult to understand -- even in Russian. The black town-car pulled up to the sidewalk and one of her men stepped out to open the door for her. As though her body were made of liquid, Nikita poured out of her seat and onto her feet on the sidewalk. "Park the car. If I don't find my way back by one, go home without me.*" She was certainly more friendly to the men that worked for her when her mood had been properly lightened -- hell, Nikita was friendlier to everyone this way, siren blood or no. It was difficult to navigate her way into the bar she had seen from her car, but with practiced skill she was able to remain fully upright on her spiked heels all the way to the bar stool inside. So, an intoxicated vampire walks into a bar -- there was a joke in there somewhere, Nikita was sure of it. As she settled into her seat, she realized that her stool was the sort that swivels. She was still in enough of her mind not to spin like an idiot, but she couldn't resist a slow turn around to look over the patrons of the bar. There weren't many people, but then again, the night was early yet. Her eyes caught the sight of a woman with stunning red-hair when she did return to face the bar; the color was mesmerizing to Nikita in her current state. She brought her hand up to prop her head up on it, staring at the barmaid with a mischievous smile. "Hello, beautiful,*" she spoke, not realizing that her words had been in Russian. *Spoken in Russian |