Sylvia Cohen (sylviacotour) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-09-07 18:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, 2009-07-26 |
The leader of the pack
WHO: Dawn and Via
WHERE: A vampire speakeasy in Manhattan
WHEN: June 9th, 1952
In 1952, Via Cohen was still going by her birth name, Sylvia, but only that. She’d begun to make mild success as a model and was still relatively new to this whole ‘vampire’ thing. Sure she’d been one for over 10 years, but at this point, it wasn’t too odd that she hadn’t aged. She thought she’d never get used to drinking blood, being the undead as it were, but it wasn’t really something she could ignore. This was the first time she encountered, what was known at the time as, a speakeasy. Sure they’d borrowed the name from those around during the prohibition but it was just the same, what they were doing was very illegal. Still, at this point in time, it was the safest way to go about it and Via had definitely not learned of how to dispose of the body and wouldn’t let her hands get that dirty, her career starting to put her in the spotlight.
As always back then, Sylvia was using her gift of the Cyri and mimicking the heartbeat and flushed cheeks of a human. Her dress was obviously not an inconspicuous one, but before she came a sudden urge to revive the flapper look often associated with speakeasies struck her and she arrived decked out and the most noticeable in the place. She came down the stairs, muttered a word she was told she would need, and made her way inside. She practically asked for trouble, a room full of hungry vampires intently listening to her heartbeat, looking at her flushed red cheeks hungrily. This was the first time in a long time she felt the need to stop those things. Finding herself a place at the bar area, she smiled at the ‘bartender.’ “AB+ please, thank you.” she said and looked around to see those like herself, vampires, it was something she didn’t really see all that often.
“‘Dis would be a good moment to cut the livin’ act altogether, darlin’” Accent thick and strong, words slightly slurred and low. Dawn was half slouched on the bar, and she had eyed Sylvia. No, she hadn’t thought of jumping the girl -she was obviously younger, to make such a mistake- on sight; let someone else try to bit a vampire, as careless as she might have bee. Dressed in a little dark gray dress and matching shoes, and apparently bored out of her mind. She had arrived way earlier, wanting to see if there were other Crimson Blades on the zone, but so far she hadn’t been lucky. Or rather, those hypothetical Crimson Blades had been the lucky ones.
“So, Cyri, ain’tcha?” Already over her third century, Dawn had seen plenty of vampires, as almost as many family lines, all with their quirks and characteristics, and all with their laws and society structures. For her, it was all bollocks, they could as well declare what they were to the world and become humanity’s pets. Or test subjects, sure. But, being in a room surrounded by the very ones she would rather see on fire was enough to make Dawn keep her thoughts for herself. This was supposed to be a social meeting of sorts, after all, and not a slaughter, although it could very well turn into one, and the vampire had the feeling it would be a lot funnier...she stopped that particular trail of thought there in order to actually pay some attention to Sylvia, giving her small, predatory smile. “Been around much?”
Sylvia had obviously not been around much, she’d barely arrived in New York from London, and in London she had a sire to baby her. Here she was, for the first time in her life, free from the shackles of a sire. “I make a living showing off my face”, she said to the other vampire, who seemed much older but looked like merely a teenager. “I get used to pretending.” It wasn’t as if Sylvia had been British by birth or anything, but she’d lived there for a while and had adopted a very slight accent. That was of course nothing next to the weary Irish vampire sitting next to her. “Not that much actually, I’ve only been back in New York for a short while, you?” she asked the other vampire, oddly drawn to her predatory smile, it was one that Via would adopt later in her lifetime. “Sylvia.” she added, to put her name out there. Sure, one could walk around through these places with anonymity and never dare to speak a word or that information could be put out there in the open before it becomes too much of a risk.
Living, the word echoed in Dawn’s head as she smirked a little. “Ah don’t think ya might want to play pretend in ‘ere, darlin’”, said as she straightened, giving Sylvia a more dedicated look. “Makes the fella jumpy”, added as she grabbed her own glass, apparently forgotten for a moment; she wasn’t hungry, as she had already ate before the meeting, but still...blood was blood. “Here an’ there, but most of the time Ah’ve been on the other side.” Of the world, of course, but she assumed the other vampire would get the point. It wouldn’t do for her to tel Sylvia she had had only about ten years on American soil, neither; one never knew who she would talk to later. “Name’s Dawn.” If Sylvia wanted to keep the last names hidden, she was fine with it.
“So, what are ya expectin’ from ‘dis lil’ meetin’ of ours?” She sounded amused alright; Dawn herself was there to see people making fools of themselves.
“I’m here for blood.” she said, taking the drink from the bartender. “And unless you can show me a better time, I will most likely drink this and head back to my loft.” she said to the vampire, it was hard not to talk down to her when she looked so much like a teenager. Via herself was only about 37 years old at this point, but she was beginning to feel the mental drag associated with growing older while her looks still remained the same. She raised her brow to the other vampire, maybe it was a challenge maybe it was just her own curiosity about her, but either way, she’d let Dawn make her own assumptions. “I’m expecting that you’ve got a fight in you in never says no to a challenge.” she said with a grin, sipping from the glass which stained her lips momentarily red.
Far be it from Sylvia to ever in her life to stay out of trouble. Anyway, it wasn’t ever getting out of the trouble, she was beautiful and deadly, it just came naturally to her. However, it was still an addiction in her seemingly infinite youth to cause a ruckus.
She had been talked down plenty of times, and most of them ended in bloodbath. It might take a year, ten years, or a little more, but she usually hunted down and killed the ones that pissed her off. Therefore, it was surprisingly hard to really piss Dawn, even if she was fast to show her displeasure. But at any rate, this little vampire had caught her in a particularly calm moment. She had been doing great in the new continent, and a little chit-chat with someone that hadn’t really lived just yet wasn’t going to get her mood tampered. Not much, at least. “Define a better time, heart”, purred as she took a long drink of her drink. She remembered how one day, the one where she turned a hundred and fifty, her reflection on the mirror had horrified her; eternally eighteen, with looks that could put anyone over thirty lusting after her if she leaned in a way, if she laughed like she knew she could, if she used little dresses like the one she was using.
“Ah gotta know how much of Hell ya have seen so far. What makes ya squeal an’ what makes ya scream.” And what made her moan...she liked to guess about that sort of things.
Via smirked at that particular comment at the end. Yes, she’d just gotten out of a messy relationship with her sire but she was enjoying her freedom, and while Dawn did look like merely a child, she could tell by her intonation that there were years adding up behind those youthful eyes. “How much hell?” she asked, tilting her head to the side a bit, ever so slightly with the intention of showing off her best features. She couldn’t necessarily help it, she was a model and posed sometimes all day. She shrugged her shoulders and took another sip from her glass, trying to enjoy it as slowly as she could, despite the fact that she was so very hungry. “I’ve seen war, terrible, brutal war.” she said, but then again, this wasn’t an indicator of her age, merely her locale. Had she been in Paris, a normal person on the street might asked ‘Et alors?’ but they didn’t experience war here in the States like she did in France.
“Perhaps if you’d like a more clear answer, I might get a clearer definition of ‘hell’ from you.” she said, and so it seemed like she’d pegged her right. She must have been the type to live off of danger like a junky.
Ah, a prideful one. Those were the best to break, in her humble opinion. “Now, see? There ain’t no thing like a single proper definition of good ole Hell, Missy.” She smirked, her fangs showing -she had been killing a little too much lately, so their size was still abnormally large-. “Maybe ya have walked across a desert, maybe ya have been forced to bite old fellas to survive, maybe ya have been hurt and runnin’ through miles and miles o’ fields as a hundred hunters tracked ya down.” All nice and completely true anecdotes, but not the point.
“What Ah was asking, girlie, is how much of a life ya have had.”
Sylvia looked up with a smirk as she finished off her drink. “I watched men taking defenseless women who'd all had their hair chopped off and brutally raping them before shooting them in the head.” she remarked, which was not something everybody could say. It wasn't that she necessarily wanted to say it but it was a story she could tell that not a lot could. “I was chased by 35 Nazi soldiers through a field outside of a French concentration camp.” she stated, or maybe it was 32, she never really remembered exactly, but she did remember barely outrunning them and taking a good hours rest before running again. It was still fresh in her mind, over a decade ago and she still couldn't shake those images from her mind. Little did Sylvia know, she never really would.
“And you with the silly little accent..” she actually liked the silly little accent, thought it suited her. She leaned into the obviously older vampire’s ear and whispered soft enough not to be overheard in the noisy speakeasy and loud enough for Dawn's ears to pick it up. “What makes you scream, lovely?”
There was just a silent nod as she listened, maybe a bit intently, taking into account all the little details of Via’s body language; World War II had always created the best kind of messed up people, and it kept living up to its legacy, apparently. With a calm sigh, Dawn used that moment of proximity to give the other vampire a soft nudge, as if trying to test the softness of her skin...and maybe that was exactly what she was doing, a soft, feral purr rising. “Me? Darlin’, Ah’ve been askin’ myself that question fo’ th’ last three hundred years”, whispered with a little laugh at the end.
Leaning back a bit, Dawn gave her another calculative look, but said nothing.
Via smirked at that, and stood up as she looked down at the other vampire. She knew she had been old, that much she could tell, but 300? This lady definitely had some years on her, but the age gap seemed hardly the point. She raised a brow at Dawn, sitting herself back into the bar stool of the speakeasy. “Perhaps I could help you in that department.” she spoke as she downed the rest of her glass. At this point in her life, Via lived off blood in glasses, she couldn’t afford to go around killing people when her career was so delicate still.
She was all up for playing whatever little game this girl had for her, Via never said no to something like that.
Standing up -and closing the distance way over the boundaries of personal spaces- Dawn gave Via a hard, bordering with murderous stare for a few seconds, before it seemed to melt in a soft smile. What did American kids used to say these days? Leaning in just a little more, she took her time to stare right at Via’s eyes, as if she were trying to find the soul that no longer resided in there, before taking a small step back. “Wanna get out of here, darlin’? ‘Dere are much better places we could be right now.” Like some flat she happened to own not too far from there. “Ah’ll give ya the crash course on survival an’ everythin’.”
Via nodded her head with a smirk, grabbing her purse off the bar and throwing it over her shoulder. During these times she was uninhibited, free and rather careless as it were so encounters like this were hardly a point of worry for her, but as she began to lead Dawn out, out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she’d seen her sire, Liza. But when she turned to look she’d managed to duck away, leaving Via looking rather confused for a moment. She ignored the impulse to go look though and just turned to lead Dawn out of the door. She was young still and she had years to look forward to considering her now infinite lifespan, why not spend her youth doing wild things?