Contortionist [Chloe!]

[Jac[leen]]

Jac wrinkles her nose with distaste. It was simply rude of Chloe’s first childe to abandon her in such a manner, even if he hadn’t done so intentionally. Still, Jacqueline possessed the power of telecommunication and she assumed that this boy had, likewise, so what was stopping him from shooting Chloe a quick goodbye message. Why couldn’t he have left a note? Simply rude. Still, he was a thing of the past, now, and it was one less person which Jacqueline would feel pressured to impress.

Always a good thing.

But it seemed she wouldn’t be getting off scott free, and there was another childe waiting in the wings that Jac had to attempt to befriend, “So he’s older than you?” she asks of Chloe, small hands settling upon the rise of her hips, as she’d no pockets to speak of, “How handsome?” Jac asks of Chloe then. Though Jac wasn’t so much nervous over impressing him as she was over having some sort of a male sibling. Her last sire had provided her with not one, but two “sisters” with which to cope. Needless to say Jac took to one more than the other. Tatyn, and Isabelle. She was quite fond of Tatyn, the two had gotten along splendidly. Though she’d never had a brother-figure. In life she’d been an only child, after all.

Though if he were as quiet as Chloe said Jac had nothing to worry about!

Oh, but then it was her turn. Jacqueline wasn’t particularly ashamed of how she’d been turned, though for some reason she was hoping to get by without weaving her own tale. Maybe she was just being fussy. Whatever the case Jac mulls over her own tale, attempting to squash it down into a much shorter version of what it really was. Her fingertips toy upon the simplistic barbell poked through her lip all the while. “Well,” she begins, simply to assure Chloe that her query would be tended to, even if it took a few more seconds, “You know how all kids say when they turn eighteen they’re going to leave their home town?” Jac offers up. She’s pretty sure everyone could relate to that, if even only a little, “Well, I was one of those kids, only I was serious,” she continues onwards, skipping over the fact that her mother was potentially the most unfit for the bill.

“Anyway, a few bus rides into my run away scheme and I decided to stop… here.” RavenBlack city. Not much better than Detroit, to be honest, “And as a perpetually poor teenager I stopped into an AA meeting - you know for the free cookies, and coffee, but I wasn’t the only one who was thinking likewise.” It was almost strange rattling off her own story in such a manner, as though she were dictating her own autobiography at the age of nineteen, “Well, her name was Tally - Horrer - and I guess we hit it off well enough and she invited me out for coffee the next night. And… Long story short, she offered to turn me.” Jac pauses, showing a vague flair for dramatics, “And then went Dead and Buried - or whatever the fuck you guys call it - a few months later,” Jacqueline shrugs, offering up a more passive reaction than the way she truly felt about these happenings.

She’d been upset about it, the way a girl gets upset when a boy leads them on, promises them the world, and then dumps them when she doesn’t put out. Whatever, fuck her. Jac had managed just fine without her. “And here I am,” Jac concludes neatly, a smile accompanying.

“This the place?” she asks of Chloe, gesturing upwards and toward that looming shamrock overhead. Maybe not. There were plenty of bars within RavenBlack, though this pub seemed Irish, and Chloe was, of course, Irish, so it was an easy sort of assumption to make.

“How the hell did you wind up in a shit hole like RavenBlack?” Jac asks of Chloe, a smile forming upon that young mouth of hers.

[Chloé Flannigan]

Chloe nodded.

“Yeah, he’s older. About... seven years, I think. More world experience, I suppose.” She shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t about to complain about it. Christian’s behaviour helped their relationship—they had a friendly banter between them. She liked to think she soothed his bad mood, or his moroseness, with her optimism and general cheeriness. But she had no idea how to classify the relationship. There was nothing romantic there, or not that she’d thought there was. And she did not feel as if he were her older brother or anything. Maybe cousins... the kind of friendly teasing that passed between cousins. Yeah, that worked.

Her light shoulder shrug also answered Jac’s following question. How handsome?

“Well, that depends on what you think defines handsome.” She said, thinking about Christian and his looks. “He’s got bright blue eyes, a bit of stubble...ruggedness.” And here she shook her head. She didn’t know that she could define why she thought Christian was handsome.

And then Jac continued with her own story about how she ended up here, in this spot. Chloe frowned, shook her head. Yeah, Chris may have gone missing, but that was okay in her books. Chris didn’t have any obligations or responsibilities. But you don’t do that as a sire. It’s wrong, to bring someone into this kind of lifestyle and then abandon them. It’s pathetic, it’s shurking one’s responsibilities, and it should be against the law.

Chloe could have ranted about it, but it was not called for. They’d reached their destination, and Chloe nodded as Jac asked whether it was the place. They stepped inside and, as Chloe had predicted, the place wasn’t as busy as it might be if it were the weekend. There were a few elderly regulars down one end of the bar, a few younger couples (students, most likely) bopping around over by the juke box (there were live bands on the weekends, too, but no such luck in the middle of the week). But other than that, the place was theirs.

Chloe led them over to the other end of the bar where they’d be able to talk in relative privacy.

“Oh, curiosity led me here.” It was the simplistic explanation, and Chloe smiled a bright smile as she uttered it. There’d been no running away from home for Chloe. “I was doing some study in the University library. There were some books in storage that I had to find, but I stumbled across this old journal. It was written by this guy who claimed to have come from London, but from ages ago, like centuries old. He documented his travels, said he went to a place called Ravenblack and that he was turned into a vampire. At first I was dubious, I didn’t believe it. But I wanted to believe it, so I tracked the place down, came here.”

And that was the story as to how she’d ended up in Ravenblack, but did not explain just how she’d been turned. That story was long, and probably not all that interesting.

“Before I tell you the rest of it, I need a drink.” She stated, hailing down the bartender and ordering herself a glass of Merlot. She turned to Jac and waited for her to order—she was not about to let the girl go drinkless.

[Jac[leen]]

So Chloe was on an adventure of sorts. Jacqueline would be hard pressed to deny the fact that she admired that. After all, adventures had far more potential for enjoyment than running away from home.

Adventures took balls.

Lady-balls, In Chloe’s case; guts, if you’re the delicate sort. Though Jac wasn’t always the quiet and delicate. It was simply when she was around those who could be considered strangers. Chloe wasn’t exactly a stranger any longer; they’d met once before, and the two had gotten to know one another in a more intense manner not even an hour ago. Not to mention the fact that Jac had asked the woman to become her sire! Nah, her and Chloe were far past mere strangers, and in such a short amount of time.

Yes, it was almost remarkable, though it seemed so… right, to be cliché about it. Still, cliché or not, Jacqueline had grown fond of Chloe in this short amount of time, though that seems to be the case with just about every interaction she’s had so far - you know whether or not you like someone within the first five minutes of conversation. She’d liked Chloe, she’d like Elektra well enough, too. Vincent, though, he’d been somewhat of a douche.

Oh! Drinks, yes, that’s why they were here, after all, no? The two of them had come to simply talk over drinks. Well, maybe only one on her part. Not only was this not her money but Jac seemed to be prone toward hellish sort of headaches, not to mention the horrid dry mouth that came with such. So Chloe was having wine, and Jacqueline was having a… uh, crap. Her nose wrinkles and the small girl eyes the bar almost critically, “I’ll just have the same,” Miss DeVen finally manages. She was still horrible with booze, despite living with a notorious connoisseur. She’s sure if her mom cared at all about her, she’d be proud of her prior resistance to the siren call of alcohol.

Still, Jac should at least brush up on the stuff, if only for appearance’s sake!

“so,” Jacqueline utters as the two of them await their glasses, “You’re an adventurer?” she teases thereafter, a smile spreading across her pretty mouth. Truth be told, Jac could still hardly believe it, though it seemed that RavenBlack was full of all sorts of people, from all walks of life, and those who are here for all different reasons. There was no reason to think that Chloe, too, had been running away from home.

[Chloé Flannigan]

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at Jac’s open query. It was a loud, eager laugh, the kind that she only let loose in situations where she was comfortable and happy. It was a genuine laugh, and not that silent, half-hearted laugh that she offered when laughter was an obligation.

Truth be told, when she was a child and learning about the history of the world (in a very vague way) she’d wanted to be an adventurer. Her first ever goal had been to become an adventurer. It was only when she came to the conclusion that the whole world had been discovered already that she gave up on that goal and strove for something different. Of course, she could have wanted to become an astronaut or a deep sea diver. But that required that she do science. She abhorred science.

Her first urge was to say no. She was no adventurer. But instead she shrugs her shoulders and admits that, perhaps, her story did sound somewhat adventurous. What kind of person would leave the comfort of home for a place they’d never heard of, just on a whim? Just because they’d read some journal that could have been a sham?

She was glad she was the kind of person who would do so, otherwise she wouldn’t be here right now. And she liked being here. She liked the way her life had turned out. She’d never go back, ever.

“Maybe... it was fate, or destiny...or whatever you want to call it. The forces of the world gathered and conspired to get me out of Dublin. Doesn’t matter whether I was an adventurer or not, I would have ended up here.” Chloe’s smile was wide, and she was laughing lightly at the notion. She didn’t believe it completely, of course. But she liked the idea. The idea was always nice. She liked to indulge in such fantastical ideas, and had done so the majority of her life. Her grandmother had hated it. Hell, her grandmother was probably turning in the grave, considering what Chloe had become, and the other things she indulged in these days.

At that moment, the two glasses of wine were settled in front of them and Chloe flashed a smile at the tender, pushing the money across the counter. And then that glass was twirling in her fingers and she was tasting the deep red liquid, indulging. Always indulging.

“And anyway, you sound like a bit of an adventurer yourself. I don’t think I’d ever have been game to run away from home.” She said. Running away took courage. Chloe only ever got so far as the second hillock. She lost heart as soon as she lost sight of home. But then she supposed going to University in Dublin was a form of running away. It was just the kind that was condoned by the parental unit.

[Jac[leen]]

“Maybe,” Jacqueline agrees over her point of faith. If you believed in that sort of thing, that was. And that’s not to say that Jacqueline does. In fact, sometimes she does, and sometimes she doesn’t. More often than not Jac was more a fan of that butterfly effect - the notion that even the smallest thing can effect just about everything else in the world - of course this belief was likewise a fickle sort of thing.

The small girl mentally prepares herself for the wine - she knew well that she wasn’t exactly apt toward the taste of alcohol and this would probably be no different. Though with any luck it would be better than Christian’s beloved Jack Daniels. So with all that hope in mind Miss DeVen lifts the cup, but not before the slightest of inclination of such in Chloe’s direction - a silent sort of Thank you for the drink, among many other things before she bothers to tip the glass toward her lips for the slightest of sips. And admittedly, it wasn’t that bad.

“Well, adventurers or not, we’re here, now,” Jacqueline points out with a crinkle to her pretty little nose. “I don’t really think of myself as an adventurer,” Jac continues onwards with a good natured grin, “I mean, it’s not like I’m an archeologist by day, and some fedora-wearing, whip-toting … Adonis by night,” Once more Jacqueline offers up a widening grin before her teeth press upon the lower tier of her pout to stifle the slightest bouts of good natured laughter.

“There were just… circumstances that all sort of piled up and finally ended with me running away,” Jac confesses. First and foremost there was that negligent mother, and then there was the press of her hometown upon her - Detroit was no dream city, after all, and nowhere anyone deserved to grow up in, let alone live in for the rest of their life. In not so many words it fucking sucked, as did her petty friends, and the impending doom of college drawing ever near - something Jacqueline definitely wasn’t interested in. Sure, the experience would have been something, but education wasn’t exactly Jac’s forte. Or, rather, she simply didn’t care about her grades, or what could be done with a proper education.

Still, her shoulders lift upwards one more time for good measure, offering up a passive sort of shrug, “Chloe,” Jac comes to utter, those pretty blue eyes of hers widening with a sudden sort of realization, “We should get fedoras,” Quite possibly one of the most ludicrous suggestions Jac could have mustered in that moment. Well, not entirely, still, it was up there, at least right now it was.

Her brows furrow with that realization and though she’s quick to recover with a surprisingly charming smile.

[Chloé Flannigan]

Chloe wondered when exactly Jac had run away. The girl didn’t even look much younger than Chloe, and she sure looked old enough to look after herself. Chloe couldn’t remember whether any time parameters had been mentioned in Jac’s story about running away. How long had she been running before she found Ravenblack and had been turned into a vampire? Whatever the case, Chloe wondered whether her adventure could be classified as ‘running away’. Surely, if a person was old enough to look after themselves, it was more a case of just packing up and leaving rather than running away.

But even packing up and leaving could be considered a form of ‘running away’. She could have been running from the pressures of family or society. Running from a life that she’d rather not have. Running to some place to try and find a second chance, or a new beginning. Ravenblack was the perfect place for that, if one got lucky, and if one was willing to submit to the consequences. But one could just as easily end up dead—fodder for the insomniacs.

But she was right. It didn’t matter what had occurred in their past lives. They were here now, and they were no longer human. Some people might call this new life of theirs an adventure, and in many ways it was. There were new things to learn and to discover, and many different scrapes to get oneself in. Best not to dwell on the past too much, or the things you might think you could miss.

And then Jac’s saying that they should get fedoras. Chloe is not averse to the idea. In fact, she’d always wanted a fedora, but had never found one that she thought suited.

“You know, I think that’s an excellent idea!” She exclaimed, holding up her glass of wine as if in toast. They were toasting. They were toasting the brilliance of Jac’s idea. They could buy fedoras and stalk the town whilst wearing them, and pretend like they were adventurers. They could be nostalgic in a completely different way, and pretend they were children again; they could turn the city into something fantastical with their imaginations.

Not that the city really needed much changing. It was pretty fantastical as it was, if you looked close enough. It just wasn’t suitable for those underage.

Of course Chloe isn’t aware that Jac had reconsidered her random outburst about fedoras. Chloe’s quite fond of spontaneity and randomness, especially now that they had all the time in the world and there was no pressure to be mature and grown-up.

“I doubt we’ll find any this late at night, though...” Chloe says, brows furrowing into a frown as her eyes drift and focus on nothing-in-particular, as she tried to think of some place that would sell fedoras to late-night revellers.

“Let’s ah... finish this bottle of wine,” She said, gesturing the barkeep to let him know they’d like to consume the whole bottle, “And then we’ll go see, yeah?” She said, flashing a brilliant smile, mischief glinting in her emerald eyes. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to be affected by alcohol. Why not now, when she had someone to keep her company? Someone who was not male, and whom she wouldn’t be trying to avoid by the end of the night...

[Jac[leen]]

“What!” Jac replies when Chloe agrees to somehow obtaining fedoras at such a time of night. “I was kidding!” Jacqueline laughs, though if Chloe truly wanted to get fedoras Jac wouldn’t be the one to argue over it! After all, she’d be hard press to admit that bopping about town in silly, if not matching, hats did sound like the start to a good time.

The boys would wonder what the two of them had been up to. Perhaps they’d simply giggle and keep it to themselves with a “It’s a long story,” Or maybe a “You wouldn’t understand, it’s a girl thing,” though in all fairness, fedoras were hardly ever a ‘girl thing.’ Still, what happened tonight was really their business, and not Christian’s, or Thaddeus’, that was, unless the two of them allowed them into this little space of time. Perhaps an exceptionally amusing story would be shared, though Jac doubted she would divulge the entirety of the night.

Idly Jac wondered just how she’d look in a fedora. Probably not that great, luckily, though, a fedora wasn’t an every-day sort of hat. Not even Doctor Jones himself wore his fedora every day! No, it was a hat for special occasions, and mischief, and all sorts of trouble. Perhaps she’d wear it whenever she met up with Chloe, though Jacqueline doubted it. Still, it was a more than humorous notion, no doubt.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Jac confesses with a wide and shameless sort of grin. At the very least it sounded fun.

Jac seems eager to embrace this whole idea as the small girl brushes her hair back, and from her brow whilst the other easily balances that glass of wine upon her fingertips, bringing such a glass toward her pout for another eager sip.

“Do you have pets?” Jac asks suddenly with a knit to her brows. It’d occurred to her that she had a pet, and it could be considered a very important part of her life. While not everyone was like Jac she knew many people who doted upon their pets like they were their very own children. So why not Chloe?

Aside that, who didn’t like to brag about their very own pets?