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Post by shinigami on Jun 24, 2008 23:08:55 GMT -8
Beatrix arched an eyebrow. The expression wasn't playful -- it was just what it was. Arch. And rather lovely, rather careless. He was carefully elegant, earlier; that was clearly not Beatrix's MO. The witches and Liam were playing, and they were getting louder by the minute; Beatrix also canted her head. Just so. Just slightly. Tipped her head back, too, so she was eying Damon sort of upside down.
"But what I can't tell is whether or not you just agreed with me or disagreed with me."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 24, 2008 23:19:58 GMT -8
"Can't you?" Damon said, raising his cracked glass in a mocking salute before tossing it into the fray. It bounced off of Liam's shoulder and splashed a witch in the face. The same witch with the fire. Now that was unintentional, helping Liam out. But that was just his luck, wasn't it? Everything turning out exactly as he had NOT planned.
His eyes still on the fight, he smiled. It was one of his rare smiles, lacking it usual disdain, or charm. It was just a smile. Strange girl, she was, but she still got him to smile. How odd.
"Well, bella, it would go against my nature to satisfy your confusion," he drawled on, leaning back against the bar so that his elbows rested on the edge of the counter. The movement made him look like a lazy hunting cat, and he watched the dance floor with the hooded eyes of predator.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 24, 2008 23:29:11 GMT -8
He smiled. Heavenly chorus! Well, perhaps not -- but she was pleased. The reason she'd touched his neck was she wanted to see him crack a smile or a chuckle that was a real thing instead of a spiritless habit, and figured that maybe he was ticklish. The brooding types often were, she found, although they pretended not to be.
Just look at the male witch chanting (chaunting, even!) at Liam from behind -- the one in the top hat. He looked the very picture of dark, but that's all he was, a picture -- and he was very, very, very ticklish.
"And I'm sure," she replied, grandly, and just as grandly offering Damon her lassi -- to sip from, although he might be perplexed by just what she wanted, "that it would go against my nature to be satisfied by you, but I have made it a rule never to trust to nature, what with it being so damned flexible."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 24, 2008 23:39:31 GMT -8
"Nature is destructive in it's ever-changing behaviors," Damon replied cryptically. She was beginning to rub off on her. She wasn't as annoying as most females, he found. Odd, but intriguing. A duality of personality that kept him from tossing her off like he normally would have with a girl.
He eyed her drink with a raised eyebrow. He contemplated taking it, though he had no interest in the drink. It was the girl who offered it that was interesting. But before he could come to a decision, the drink was swiped away.
Liam had rose victorious from the fight. And was bloody thirsty, so he grabbed the first thing that caught his eye. Finishing it off in two quick gulps, he tossed it at Damon, who merely moved over so that it hit the ground instead of him. Glass shattered across the floor, and both men merely shrugged.
"Thanks, doll," Liam said with a wolfish grin, before taking a seat on the other side of her. "Damon'll buy you another one, won't ya, 'ol mate?"
Damon growled lowly. Why was the man so blasted annoying? Pinching the bridge of his nose in one hand, irritated, he waved the bartender back over with the other. He was surprised Liam hadn't been kicked out yet... but hopefully all in good time.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 0:13:13 GMT -8
They complemented each other rather nicely. Cool, chivalrous Damon; anything but chivalrous and cool Liam. Beatrix took a moment to look between them. Her head was still tipped slightly back, and her hair fell over the bartop. Easy to pluck a strand, easy to weave a charm. Don't try it.
Except she straightened, turned her face away from the glass when it shattered. She didn't want to get a stray shard in her eye, after all. Briefly, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, well, she was looking straight at Liam, except her head was still a little downturned, so it was one of those looks -- up through the lashes, a movement of the eyes, not the face.
"Thank you. Damon?" She sounded shy, when she used his name. Go figure. Nothing else about her seemed particularly shy. Witness this next move:
"So what are you going to give me?" She paused. Then said, more formally: "Gift me. You took a gift from a witch - "
Says Beatrix, quite seriously -- at least seemingly quite serious. The distinction seems to be he took what wasn't offered him, so now he's got to respond in kind, and asking Damon to buy a new drink doesn't cut it.
" - and now you owe the witch a debt."
Beatrix tapped the tip of his nose with her finger and winked. "But it's okay. You were thirsty. You can have some time to think about it."
---
Meanwhile, back at the place where Beatrix's family lived. Her mother. Adoptive mother, actually, but still: her mother. Her mother opened her eyes, suddenly; sucked in a breath so quickly it sounded as if it hurt. She turned to her husband, who was still awake, and said, "Where's Beatrix got to?"
"She's out with Dulcimer," he replied, raising an eyebrow. There was a silence. Then: "She should be out with Dulcimer."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 25, 2008 12:39:15 GMT -8
Liam rarely took the time to think about his actions. He always acted upon impulse, with no regrets or thoughts about another's comfort. Why should he? After all, he did have the protection of his Boss, and then he was Liam. Enough said, at least for him.
"So you want a present?" Liam drawled, his lips curving into a particularly nasty smirk. He leaned over, draping his forearm on on shoulder. Close enough that he was right at her face, speaking into her ear. "I could give you a present. A nice, bloody little surprise, if you like. A-"
He broke off with a choking sound, for Damon had moved so swiftly that even Liam hadn't followed it. He was off his chair, a cold strong hand wrapped around the green-eyed vampire's neck before there was stopping it.
And he was smiling. A cold, dangerous smile. One that few saw and lived afterward. Liam wasn't scared, but he really hated it when the Salvatore looked at him like that. Damon didn't follow by Seth's rules, nor did he care about retributions if he were to kill one of Seth's men.
"Never speak to a lady in such a manner," Damon said quietly, but it was no less cold than the smile. The words cut right into Liam, like ice cutting through his veins.
He didn't need to say he'd kill Liam if he harassed the girl again. He didn't need to. The smile said it all, and the dark eyes were colder and crueler than Liam could ever aspire to have. Liam was just a bloodthirsty killer, a sick puppy. But Damon... was a master of the shadows, of his nature. He pulled it off in the fashion of a natural born predator, a beast in it's most elegant and refined state. To Damon, Liam was just a pathetic savage. An annoyance.
The hand on Liam's neck was growing tighter, a hard enough grip that could snap his neck if he should so much as move a muscle. He didn't need to breathe, but it really hurt, and he had no intention of getting killed over something like this.
So with a glare, he shoved his hand into his pocket and then threw a blood-red Visa onto the bar counter. That was silently telling everyone around that drinks were on him, and here's your freaking present... so let go of my neck, stupid Italian.
Damon barely raised an eyebrow in recognition before relinquishing his hold on Liam and returning to his seat. Some men just had no manners.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 13:58:06 GMT -8
Beatrix became an alcolyte of stillness when Liam draped his forearm on her shoulder. She didn't close her eyes when he smirked in that way. That way -- nasty -- that so many'd seen last of all, and then never again, before they went down into the dark, down into death. But as he spoke against her ear, no hint of breath to shape his words into something real and true, the hairs at the nape of her neck prickled, and her pulse thought seriously about kicking up.
Then -- Liam choked and Beatrix lifted her head and turned to look. Her dark eyes widened, too, and her eyebrows rose. There was a part of her that just had to admire how beautiful they both were. They were really, really beautiful. Even that smile that Damon had? Really, really beautiful. Beatrix rested her elbow on the bartop, and curled her hand underneath her hair, against her neck, and watched gravely.
This night was definitely worth waking up for.
"Aw, shucks," she said, after Damon had resumed his seat. Her voice was cat-fur soft; smoke and ashes soft. "There's that poise and grace again. Hey, 'tender -- can I get a pen and a napkin please?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 25, 2008 14:08:17 GMT -8
The bartender never dared question those who accompanied either of the two dangerous men, and followed each order as requested.
Damon was triumphant, slightly mollified, when he received a new glass of brandy that he did not have to pay for. Not that he didn't have enough money to cover a thousand lifetimes, but it was a shove to Liam to use his money.
Liam was irritated still by the chokehold, but figured with his bottle of whiskey he would be fine. Taking a long swig out of the bottle, he watch through narrowed eyes as the bartender placed the pen and napkin on the counter. He rested an elbow on the counter and leaned forward, but this time he did not touch. He was prepared however, if the touchy Italian were to strike again. He'd get him back eventually. All in good time.
"What's the paper for, deary?" Liam asked, knowing Damon wouldn't bother to feign curiosity. He was such a party-killer. "You don't mind if I call you deary, do you? How about doll? Sunshine? I'm particularly fond of sunshine, myself." He would probably wind up calling her that anyway. He didn't care for other opinions, and even if he did know her name, he'd still call her something else. Why shouldn't he?
Damon resisted the urge to roll his eyes and said lowly, "You're in for it now. He'll call you the least fitting name just for the kicks."
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 14:17:19 GMT -8
When the paper was brought, Beatrix covered it with one hand -- the way you'd cover a test in school if you thought some annoying jock (in this case, Liam) was trying to cheat, while the cool badboy didn't pay attention in the seat in front of you (ahem, Damon) -- and offered Liam a quirk of her mouth, an almost smile, something that was in her eyes. "You'll see, kiddo."
And she started to scribble. Damon spoke, and her divided attention became divided slightly more in his favor -- she even looked away from her drawing to say:
"Really? What does he call you?"
Her gaze went from Damon to Liam.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 25, 2008 14:24:05 GMT -8
Damon made a 'harrumphing' sound in the back of his throat and did not answer. It was too embarrassing, too disgusting.
Liam however grinned proudly and declared, "Angel. Or Angelcakes on an especially broody evening."
He was of course referring to the brooding vampire character on Buffy, and also to an actual angel, because Damon was anything but.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 14:33:22 GMT -8
"There. C'est finis!"
Beatrix gave the piece of paper to Damon. Because, technically, it was for him -- her way of saying thank you, and yet also controlling her urge to hug him. Behold: stick figure art. That's right. Beatrix had drawn a stick-figure Damon -- the face was expressionless, and he was all in black, holding a glass of brandy -- it was even labelled. And a stick figure Beatrix, smiling and hugging him. And a stick figure Liam, whose face was Evil Bad, with a BIG smile and BIIIIIG fangs. And cat eats, for some reason. The stick figure Liam was shrugging.
" - I would," she says, in explanation. Meaning she'd've hugged him. "But I don't want to get your back up." Then, to Liam: "Angelcakes, huh? That's pretty awful. What would you call yourself?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 25, 2008 14:40:18 GMT -8
Damon stared down at the drawing. He understood it as a way of thanks, and though he didn't really understand why, he found it to be a bit... dare he think it? Touching. God, what a sappy description. It almost made him want to throw up. But there it was.
He was just glad he hadn't been hugged. Hugging was too intimate. He was fine with anything else that was physical. A kiss was just a kiss. Sex was just sex. But hugging was an odd thing, too intimate and emotional for him to feel comfortable with. It was distinctly wrong in his opinion.
Liam shrugged slightly, trying to see what was on the napkin. He didn't like feeling left out. At her question he merely gave her an astonished look. "Liam. That is my name after all." After a pause, he added while craning his neck and trying to see the napkin, "Boss says I'm too angry to have a nickname. He usually changes his employees names, but mine was just fine, so I got to keep it."
He felt no need to bring up the Liam-bear incident. When Seth had bought a polar bear and named it Liam just torture the vampire Liam. He was always running around in confusion when Seth called 'Liam', never knowing if it was the bear or him.
Such as, "Liam, I told you not to pee on the carpet!" "I... I'm... sorry, sir?" "Not you, fool! The bear! The Liam-BEAR!"
Such trauma...
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 14:47:46 GMT -8
Beatrix wasn't hiding the napkin any more -- she just hadn't wanted Liam commentating while she drew her stick figure masterpiece. Whether or not he gets a gander of his own stickfigure portrait was now all up to Angelcakes.
The luminous lil' witch-girl sipped on her (new, improved!) cinnamon lassi and licked her lips, because it's just such a refreshing drink. Her eyelashes lower -- almost indolent, clearly dealing with pleasure at the moment. But that didn't mean she'd just let the conversation, such as it was, slide. No! So she says:
"You could've been Bruiser. Oh, or Wolverine. Or Fuzzy Wuzzy."
...fuzzy wuzzy was a bear...
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 25, 2008 14:54:35 GMT -8
Liam was silent for a long moment, mouthing 'Fuzzy... wuzzy... fuzzy... bear....' And then: "Dear God, woman! Are you reading my mind?"
He was slightly panicked because he didn't want Damon to know about the Liam-bear name. He'd never live it down. The shame!
Damon glanced up from the drawing, amused by Liam's antics for once. "What? Someone call you fuzzy wuzzy when you were a kid? Does have a certain ring to it, don't you think so?"
"No! No I do not think so, Angelcakes!"
"Didn't I tell you not to call me such an absurd name?"
"Make me!"
"Stop acting like a petulant child or I will."
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Post by shinigami on Jun 25, 2008 15:05:43 GMT -8
Beatrix's lips curved. And there it was, again: the proof that, for all that she looked as if she coalesced from a fall of light, she really wasn't. Beatrix was enjoying poking at Liam, and as far as secrets went, things he wanted to keep hidden, that was pretty lite -- she just hoped that's all she saw right now.
"Angel Food Cake is pretty tasty," she says, appropros of nothing.
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