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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 7, 2010 13:54:47 GMT -5
He didn’t mind sports.
Most of the time he enjoyed the simplicity of sitting in a sports lounge watching the game. In fact, its how most of the department relaxed after a long grueling day at the office or on the road. Christian mainly worked in the homicide division after ’moving’ to RB because he was good at what he did. What bothered him about sitting in this bar was the fact he was alone, there was no one to laugh with him about the rookies. Leaning forward against the table, he picked up his beer glass and drank from it. Though he could be slamming these all night, it would draw unwanted attention to him and his new companion.
When Eleanor joined him at his table with her drink, he looked down from the television to her. With a small smile, he waited for her to completely situate herself on the chair before starting a conversation. But before he could say anything, she beat him straight to the introduction that he completely forgot to do outside. “Christian Lecroix.” He answered shortly before reaching into his pocket for her wallet. As he pulled it out, he kept it a fine distance from her so she could neither snatch or steal it back from him just yet.
“I’m not your enemy or whoever you think I am.” Christian explained, trying to figure if it would help at all. “I recognized you from somewhere before and all I wanted to do was figure out where. So here’s my proposition, I’m going to give you the wallet back but you don’t leave until your food is gone. Deal?” He questioned.
To show good faith, Christian placed the wallet on the table in between them before leaning back. Leaving the wallet untouched, he didn’t tell her that he had a couple of forms of ID and some cash that had previously been in there. Eleanor had been so anxious to get her wallet back, she didn’t mention her ID’s. “So why did you run?”
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Mar 7, 2010 16:40:03 GMT -5
The name surely had a familiar ring to it, but she could never be sure whether that was due to previous acquaintance or the media; it could easily be either. Bryce watched his hand as it reached for her wallet, and she waited for him to finish his sentence. Completely ignoring his question, she reached for her possession.
If you want me to stop treating you like the enemy, stop treating me like a child she chastised, sliding her wallet towards the edge of the table and setting it closer to her body. It did not cross her mind that there may be things missing from within, for she didn’t even consider the amount of time it had been in his position sufficient for him to remove things in it. Additionally, the funds were scarce, so there was no predisposition to panic about her potential loss when it came to the money.
Grunting, she ceded to his query, albeit vaguely.
Why did I run? It’s called an adrenaline rush, it’s very common. You should Google it.
She was quoting Twilight’s main vampire verbatim, but she could afford to be cocky now that her wallet had been returned; Christian no longer had the upper hand. Taking a swig of her drink, she lifted her eyebrows at him in a ‘hm? what?’ fashion and lowered her amused expression from full view. Why on Earth should she tell him? Wouldn’t he run too if he was being pursued by a stranger? Perhaps not, not unless he was haunted by something.
With all the dangers lurking in this city you surely can’t honestly say you expected me to stay put and wait to find out, do you?
It was rhetorical, but she presumed he would have an opinion about that. Oh, Christian Lecroix, the all knowing vampire-cop. Bryce glanced towards the game for a few seconds before turning her gaze back to him.
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 18, 2010 8:35:39 GMT -5
“Then stop acting like one…” Christian commented.
He watched as she captured the possession she had wanted so badly without stopping to check if anything was missing. In that moment, he wanted to laugh but he stifled his throat by pouring more alcohol down it. As Christian lowered the glass from his mouth, he adverted his gaze to behind her to a couple doing the same exact thing they were. Though the situations of both parties were very different intentions.
Shaking his head, he shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head slightly at the sarcastic answer she provided. “Adrenaline rush? Only people who have something to be guilty about run. The question is, what have you done that makes you flee the scene?”
Christian was not a mastermind at reading people’s thoughts, but he had spent enough time in the FBI to know when someone was hiding something. Though sometimes he could never figure out what, he was damn good at getting people to confess it. Three years of Interrogation training had proven to be a good asset when it came to this world. Christian’s hand was still wrapped around the tall glass idly as he brought up his free hand, propped his elbow on the edge of the table and rested his chin on his knuckle. Though it was true that no one could stay around and wait for danger to find them but it would prevail sooner or later.
“Well being what you are and what I am, I don’t think that you have any problems taking care of yourself.” Christian observed as he tilted his head back straight. “I guess that depends on how you were brought up, when I worked for the FBI a couple years back, they gave me enough critical skills to survive in any situation thrown at me…and I did…sometimes. Sorry…pretty sure you‘re not interested in hearing about my past.”
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Mar 18, 2010 15:31:12 GMT -5
To be quite honest his accusations were far from wearing her resolve down, they were merely making her more defensive. Perhaps that in itself would be proof that she was indeed hiding something from him, but who the heck was he to go around demanding explanations? Just because she’d made him run a few blocks and ceded to his offer only to retrieve her possession, did not make them share-it-all chums. And with that attitude, Bryce left out a muted scoff, there was no way she would be budding up to him. Okay, so she stole from strangers who looked like they didn’t need the extra coin they carried, and she charmed her way through various transactions, but he was probably equally guilty if charged. Yet, to indict him would no doubtfully make things worse, for she doubted he would set his self-righteousness aside. What a load of crap, truly; yet here she was.
Sighing, she kicked her legs under the table out of sheer restlessness. Bryce was a girl of action, and despite not believing her, Christian would surely see she was on a constant adrenaline rush if he kept her to that seat any longer. Still, he was not forcing her to stay there, it was the promise of food that was keeping her from leaving, for she was starved, and before she’d pull another escape stint, she needed to recharge. Whilst she distractedly took in their settings, head inched forward, she listened to him.
FBI.
Instantly her muscles tensed, and the hand that had been circling the base of her glass gripped the thing before it could be knocked over. Her knuckled turned white, fingertips pressing into the chilled surface as she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Bryce could have lived with him being any old cop, but this guy was connected, and that instantly made him of interest. Trying to act aloof was not as hard as she would have expected; the crowds yelled and cheered as the Americans scored, and the increase in heart rate could easily be attributed to her being startled. Turning the glass slowly, she perked an eyebrow at him.
When you worked? How come you don’t work there anymore?
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 25, 2010 20:40:01 GMT -5
Working his forefinger around the rim of the glass still half-filled, he listened to it make a quiet ringing noise before he stopped. The abrupt cheers from the crowd watching the game had distracted him. Christian lifted his head and turned it slightly towards the television to see what the commotion had been about. He monitored the replay for a moment before making a face of disappointment as he looked towards his companion. When she questioned him about not working there anymore, his frown deepened, as if it really did stir up old memories. He hated reminiscing on the past but this forced him to do just that.
“I was betrayed by someone I trusted. He sold me out to advance on a case and I lost everything.” Christian replied curtly. “I was betrayed by my partner.”
Christian’s mood had been light before but just being reminded of his burn notice had darkened his mood. With a deep breath, he lifted his glass and finished off the rest of his beer. Placing it down on the table, he looked towards the bar counter and lifted his hand up in the air. Her food had not arrived yet so he decided one more drink before he would call it an evening. When the bartender acknowledged his hand, Christian dropped it back down and pushed the empty glass towards the edge of the table.
“Well, I was going to say if you were in some kind of trouble, I may be able to help.” Christian offered as a peace treaty between them but he doubted she would have taken the bite. She hated him already for getting her wallet and not giving it back until she agreed to have a drink with him. Usually he would have just given it back but he felt like he needed someone else besides Chloe to hang around. He had been sure that he would have been driving her insane being back.
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Mar 27, 2010 15:45:35 GMT -5
Christian could have been making everything up on the spot, and his account could have been as true as him being the fairy godmother by night. To be fair though, she didn’t picture him wearing tutus and waving wands; though it would be sight she’d pay to see. Despite the amusing thoughts that crossed her mind, her face remained stoic. She glanced off into the barman’s direction when the ex-agent before her raised his hand; and she secretly hoped that the food would arrive soon. Bryce had already forgotten what she’d ordered. Her intense pursuit of the nature of her order was pushed aside when he spoke again, offering his help.
Her left brow arched high, gaze purposely deadpan as she tried to make sense of his suggestion. His offer was, to say the least, unexpected. The brunette shifted in her seat uncomfortably, buying time by reaching for the straw and setting it between her dry lips, sipping purposely slow. Swallowing the bubbly liquid, she pulled herself away from the glass and stared at him evenly. Surely he had a motive, else she saw no foundation for his statement. That concern was secondary, for if she showed any interest, she would be incriminating herself. Instead of taking the offer seriously however, deciding to let him work for it a while longer before she decided to pursue the suggestion theoretically, she tapped upon Sebastian’s influence.
Humour worked magic at times like these, but as she considered using Charisma, she came to realization that he had not used it upon her; it would be rude to impose it on him. Yet, how would she know if he was not using Charisma on her? Maybe he was, subtly so, but she disregarded the thought, realizing it was the promise of food that appeased her, and the fact that her wallet was back in her possession. Both parties got what they wanted, he his drink and she her wallet; but that did not mean there was trust. No, his offer was out of place, and though she was curious as to what he could do for her, she had yet to trust him. For all she knew, he was making all this up.
“So, now... instead of a top agent, you chase women down, coax them into having a drink with you, and offer them your help...”
She tilted her head and shrugged thoughtfully, expression stoic: “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to have a monthly subscription to Match.com? I mean, this has got to cost you...”
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 28, 2010 22:21:19 GMT -5
Upon hearing her comical accusation, Christian let out a long low chuckle before shaking his head. If she only knew how true that statement was then she would have understood the reaction he was hiding. Christian had seen his former partner in the investigations section of the department get dates. He had never been one for trying it out like that because he never had a problem with women before. Well, his taste in women had been eclectic as well. He wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted to remember at the moment but it was sure as hell something to think on later down the road.
“Well, it’s only on Saturday nights so its safe to assume you aren‘t a target.” He responded, before he instantly dropped the conversation when the waitress approached with his second beer and Eleanor’s food. Whatever she had ordered at the counter smelled delicious enough that it almost made him wish he were human. Upon hearing the comment about the dating website, he offered a light-hearted shrug before answering. “Well most of them had been rich widows, so they usually pay for the drinks.”
Unsure of how she would react to his comment, he readied himself to be chastised and slapped in the face. It would not be the first time something along those lines had played out in a situation but this time, he would be prepared for it. Christian didn’t acknowledge that the barkeep had brought out the drinks and before he could tip her, she had disappeared into the crowd again. He sighed once before shrugging his shoulders to turn his attention on the new glass of beer. This was turning out to be better than he would have expected but most women would have been willing to have a drink with him. This situation intrigued him if anything.
“So, are you going to tell me anything about yourself tonight?” Christian wondered aloud towards her as he watched the bubbles in his beer rise to the top. “It doesn’t have to be true, but at least, make it sound believable. For instance, you already know I used to work for the FBI.”
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Mar 29, 2010 1:17:19 GMT -5
Bryce replied to his slapstick admission with a low chuckle, gaze diverting back to the hockey game on the flat screen momentarily. The food that settled before her caught her off guard, and as he continued with his comedic reply, she stared down at glazed ribs in awe. The sweet smell of BBQ sauce reached her nostrils, stunning her mind into a single-thought track as the waitress walked away un-thanked. Hesitantly reaching for one of the sealed moist napkins, she glanced up at Christian as he inquired about her. Unwrapping the napkin and slipping it between her fingers to sanitize them before she attacked the grub, she pondered her reply.
“I’m an astronaut, or well, was before I camped out on the night of a full moon... My bad” her tone was light-hearted, betraying some of the bitterness that such a statement ensued. Clearing her throat, she set the used napkin onto the table and reached for her drink, bypassing the straw and taking a large gulp. Setting it down, she added whilst ripping the ribs apart into sizeable chunks: “And I’m dating this guy, I guess it is serious...”
Using both hands to bring a meaty rib to her lips, she caught his eye and motioned with her chin towards Christian before biting down, barely managing a “You?”
She was famished.
As she chewed, a content purr sounded in her throat, eyes closing briefly as she savoured the protein. Meat, it had never truly appealed to her until her siring.
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 29, 2010 13:43:31 GMT -5
Christian watched.
Though it never bothered him to watch mortals eat around him, something was itching at him tonight. With a long glare at the piece of meat, he decided to draw his attention behind him at the flat screen. The hockey game was provided enough entertainment for everyone else tonight but it just wasn’t cutting into his poor mood. Instead of acting like the drunkards that surrounded their small table, he turned back towards Eleanor to see if she had devoured the whole thing yet. Not likely.
When she commented about being an astronaut, he raised another skeptical eyebrow in her direction. If this conversation was going to keep continuing, she would have to come up with something better than that. But she added on a hint towards her siring--possibly. He wasn’t sure what to believe but it wasn’t like he couldn’t run a background check on the ID that he had. He remembered names well but for the moment, he acted good enough where he believed her. “Oh. Aren’t you a little far from Florida? I assume that’s where they still launch rockets, right? I think that‘s where the Kennedy Space Center is…”
She was dating someone too.
Christian chuckled at her vague explanation of the term “serious.” There was something about that word that made him uncomfortable thinking about. Shifting in his seat, he gulped down some of the inexpensive beer he ordered to get rid of the thought of a serious relationship. “RBPD was a couple of months after I…moved here. The one time I’m a complete gentleman, I offered a woman a ride home after her car was crashed. My bad.”
Frowning, he remembered the night he was sired. Marjaan seemed like a normal woman but obviously, she was far from it. Refusing to dwell on the past, he shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing serious for me.”
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Mar 29, 2010 15:31:50 GMT -5
Of course she was far from Cape Kennedy, but if it meant facing his ex-employers to get pricked with needles and asked stupid questions about her extraterrestrial origins, she would give the damn place a wide berth. There was an unmistakable pang of pain in her chest upon the familiar name however, and she masked its effect on her by biting widely into the grub and looking down at the table. Bryce chewed determinedly, trying not to let the mention of Florida sour her mood. Luckily he continued to speak, and she could only presume he was mimicking the format of her storytelling and hinting to his siring as well. Surely hers had more of a comedic side to it, at least she presumed so for not many got to wander the forest talking to a wolf, did they?
For moment she sat in silence, eating pace slowing as her stomach was finally able to focus on the sugary protein. There was no real need to talk, at least not on her behalf; she had said what she wanted to say and her mouth was full. Bryce was not the type to inquire about people’s love life either, she was far too familiar with the awkwardness nosey commentary entailed; she refused to put others in such uncomfortable situations. Setting the half-eaten rib back down on the table, she let out an exasperated growl and shook her hair out of her face. The paper napkins ripped as she tried to wipe the excess sauce off her fingers, causing her eyes to roll. The low ponytail she had been sporting was useless; the hair tie’s grip on her hair was loose. Glancing up at Christian, she slipped off her seat, sticky hands apart and in the air.
Coming to stand besides him, she turned her back to him and sniffled. The hair tie was visible at the tip of the makeshift ponytail, halfway down her shoulder blades.
“Could you tie it up for me?”
Bryce didn’t necessarily want to have BBQ sauce in her locks, regardless on whether she was going to wash the city smell off it when she got home.
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Mar 31, 2010 2:06:33 GMT -5
They fell into a silence again.
This time though, the silence didn’t feel as tense and forced as it had before when the night started. Though he wasn’t exactly enjoying himself with the fact that the company had been mandatory for her, it could have been worse. Christian told himself that several times throughout the evening thus far as he mostly alternated his attention between her and the television. When her attention was drawn back to the food that she devoured, Christian took this time to check the scores again. He wasn’t sure what it was about hockey that thrilled the Americans into watching it. Though his answer was soon provided when a fight starting breaking out on the ice and people in the tavern started getting riled up over it.
Frowning, Christian turned back around to see Eleanor now standing beside him with her hands covered in BBQ. For a moment, he perked a curious brow towards her before she asked her question. Tie what up? Christian took a few quick seconds to study what she meant by her question before he noticed her hair. “Seriously?”
He couldn’t believe this. Wasn’t ponytail tying for female friends? His frown deepened as he gestured with his hand for her to turn around so he could accomplish what she asked. “Why didn’t you just wipe your hands with the napkins on the table? This is not a thing a guy does unless its for reasons involving alcohol.”
Reaching up, Christian tightened her ponytail in a feigned silence before tossing a look around. He wasn’t sure who saw that little display but he hoped no one would dare consider joking around about it. “There…happy now?”
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Apr 4, 2010 14:17:20 GMT -5
Men and their insecurities. She wasn’t asking him to braid it, just tie it up, a feat that did not question his masculinity for it required as many pulls and loops as tying shoelaces did. Smacking her lips together and rolling her eyes as he did as told, Bryce couldn’t help but imagine what Sebastian would have to say about this. Moving her head sideways as though it had become unhinged, the only way to check whether it was tight enough without using her hands, the werewolf thanked him before sauntering back up to her stool.
The fact that she trusted him her hair was merely a tiny fraction of what he could earn, but it was a good start. Bryce offered him a brief smile before turning her attention back to the ribs. It was in between bites that she spoke again.
So you don’t eat? Like, at all? she perked a brow at him, Like Edward in Twilight and stuff?
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Apr 4, 2010 14:28:27 GMT -5
Christian might have seemed insecure.
Oh boy, well he felt it after performing that task expected of him. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that she even considered asking. Looking over towards her as she took her place back up onto the stool, he studied her. When they met the first time, Christian had never really stopped to look at her that night before he suddenly had bolted off. Frowning, he perked an eyebrow towards her when she asked if he consumed human food. That did it. She had to bring up Edward from that stupid saga that was all the storm lately. There was not a place he could turn without hearing something about “Edward.”
“I eat.” Christian replied curtly. He didn’t bother hiding the fact that it also bothered him to be compared to a glitter fairy. Yes, he had referred Edward to a glitter fairy. “I can consume human food but I don’t go out of my way to do it. If the situation requires me to have it, I will.”
When he finished answering her question, he stopped himself from taking a drink of beer before adding. “Don’t ever use that fairy to compare. And I’m hope you are aware of we don’t glitter in sunlight…we ash.” He hated Twilight.
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Post by Bryce Lamkin on Apr 4, 2010 14:37:18 GMT -5
Bryce ran her tongue over her lower row of teeth, perking a brow in Christian’s direction as he replied. Her fingers reached for a few French fries, holding the golden sticks to her lips before letting out a small chuckle. The fact that he even knew who Edward was, was enough to cause a smirk on her youthful features. Chewing quietly, her eyes sparkled in amusement. Swallowing, she leaned forward for her glass and caught the straw between her teeth; she took a long swig before speaking.
That must suck... There was no point in bringing the Twilight series again given his aversion to them. To be quite honest, she didn’t approve of the books either, finding the storyline plain and the characters undeveloped. Anyways, she preferred Jacob over Edward.
Reaching for another set of ribs, she held them close to her mouth as she shot another question his way; she knew little about the real vampires. So... you kill people when you, you know...? Bryce bit into the meat, tearing it with her teeth as her lips wrapped around the grub. Luckily her stomach was no longer screeching for food, allowing her to eat slower and enjoy.
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Post by Christian Lecroix on Apr 4, 2010 14:47:22 GMT -5
He had stopped looking over his shoulders wondering what other people in the tavern were thinking about. It appeared that the hockey game was still the main center of attention for most of them anyway. So that chance of them seeing what he had done was minimal, but to him, there was always that one person. Yet if anyone had the brass balls to come forward, he would be showing them a thing or two about messing with an angry vampire. Instead, he had his shoulders slightly hunched and his head low just in case it was going to happen. And he tried to accomplish this all very discreetly so that Eleanor wouldn’t tease him further about his insecure self.
She asked about if he killed people when he fed. Christian didn’t open his mouth right away to answer a touchy question in itself. Of course, some vampires killed people because they had no real morals when it came to humanity. Personally, he didn’t start off by killing mortals but as time went on and Marjaan’s decreasing presence happened, he started caring less. Choosing his words carefully, he stared at his half-full beer glass. “Sometimes. I mean, it’s not something I try to do but it happens. I don’t know how to explain it really. It’s not something we like to think about because when you start to reminisce, you start to think back on everybody you have…and it’ll drive you insane if you do.”
Had he been feeling guilty for killing everyone who had fallen victim to him? At one point, he had stopped caring but lately, he felt his humanity returning to him. “Don’t you guys accidentally kill people? I don’t know much about your kind…I never really took the time to learn.”
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