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[vara ♥]

Stupid Black Iris. A couple of made vampire bouncers had kicked Chryso out for causing too much uproar. She had killed one of the humans there - only because he wouldn't leave her alone - and every single human there freaked out. Silly little Day Worlders. Sending a third of the club into turmoil had been fun. But then a few less experienced vampires went into hunting mode and more blood was spilt.

So, here she was, at the Black Dahlia. It was a much quieter venue, but Chryso didn't want to head home yet. She had grown rather restless after that little episode and now she just wanted to cause more trouble. Lucky her parents weren't around.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, Chryso scanned the club. She was surprised at how many humans were present. They sat in their little circles, drinking and laughing together. The sounds of their voices made Chryso cringe. Ugh.

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[lily tomlinson]

Damon's upper lip curled back in a silent snarl as he entered the fray of the Black Dahlia. It was disgusting place, really. It wasn't that he had a problem with humans; they were his food, after all. It was all the laughter and sunshine and the freaking hippy Daybreaker feel that surrounded the place that had him disgusted.

His dark eyes scanned the crowd, narrowed and disdainful in usual fashion. Elegantly dressed in expensive clothing, and a superior aura surrounding him, it was obvious he didn't belong here, but other than a few passing glances as he strode lazily to the bar, he was not bothered. That was his only reason for coming here. He despised those of the lighter side, but if there was one thing he could count on, it was to be left alone here. There were no old acquaintances here, nor anyone who would dare try to schmooze with him like at the Black Iris.

For a while, when he'd first arrived in Vegas, he'd spent his nights in the darker of the Nightworld clubs, drinking away in a dark corner, but too often he would be annoyed and prodded at by anyone who thought they had a right to. Surprisingly too many women he'd sired had passed through there, angry still after all these years that he'd thrown them away like trash. Well, he WAS Damon Salvatore. What did they expect? To live happily ever after?

Shaking his head at such annoying thoughts, he kicked out a chair and lounged in it, waiting for the waitress to hurry up with his damned drink. He looked like a haughty panther, black and dangerous and arrogant and he knew it. In a place like this, it was the perfect look that said 'leave me alone and I won't kill you and your hippy friends.' Exactly what he needed now, to be left alone to brood.

Of course, the elder Salvatore brother did NOT brood, and he would never admit to it. But those who knew him would be quite apt to believe that was exactly what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Another reason to avoid his usual haunts.

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