Dominic Spencer
Vampire (A)
Marshmellow
Pain in the ass, miraculously dodging death.
Posts: 107
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Post by Dominic Spencer on Oct 1, 2009 11:14:42 GMT 1
With an ego as bruised as his face, Dominic Spencer stormed towards Leicester Square. He had tears in his favourite bright yellow jeans and his nose still throbbed as it healed back into place. Man, it had been big enough already without being broken. To say he was not a happy little vampire would have been an understatement. The boy cursed as he walked, shooting passersby furious glares as they stared at the dried blood that still could be seen on his face and clothes.
The flaxen-haired vampire’s thoughts were all on getting revenge for his humiliation at Dacian’s hands and to make himself feel better by spending the night with some pretty stranger, hopefully a dancer from the place he had in mind. Dom had overheard a wizard in some pub whispering excitedly to his slack-jawed, idiot friend about a wizarding strip club called ‘Scores’ in Leicester Square so that was where the boy was heading, swearing and cussing as he went.
It took him awhile to spot it but eventually his eyes raked over the club’s entrance. He could have sworn it hadn’t been there before. Feeling a little happier, Dom strode over and made to move through the thickset doors, completely ignoring the bouncer that stood next to them. Before he even got to lay one hand on the door he felt a large hand close around the scruff of his neck and drag him away. For the second time that night he was thrown to the ground and this time his attacker had the audacity to ask for money he’d never even heard of before.
”Entry fee of eight Galleons, five Sickles. No money no entry.”
Galleons and sickles? How and why on Earth was he supposed to pay with eight large sailing ships and five blades used to cut grass? He said this to the bouncer and the man looked at the boy like he had something mentally wrong with him. The look was infuriating to Dominic and he demanded profusely to be allowed entry simply because the charge to get in was ridiculous. Still he was refused entry and the more he was refused the angrier the young vampire got.
He could take this mortal even if the man was about twice his size and weight. The bouncer had muscle and Dominic may have been built like a weed but he had super-human strength, speed and pointy teeth on his side. He threatened to attack the bouncer but still the man would no move. His funeral Dom supposed. The boy ran his tongue over his fangs, thinking about where to bite first before a new man coming through the door distracted him.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Oct 1, 2009 17:51:50 GMT 1
... Oh fuck. And you know what? Before Silas had inadvertently stepped out into what looked like an imminent fight scene, this had actually started off as a pretty good evening too.
Emphasis on had been a pretty good evening.
It wasn’t the fact that one of his bouncers and a boy who barely looked like he fit the age requirements were glaring daggers at each other that caught his attention, or the fact that both their hands were balled into tight, angry fists. No, if that had of been all he would have happily let them both battle to the death for his own amusement continue without his interference. What got his notice was that for some reason, long unmistakable stains of red were slathered down the boy’s front and smudging the knees of his pair of ridiculous yellow jeans.
Blood.
Oh fucking hell. How about no. He could already smell the Ministry Hitwizards and Aurors coming a mile off. Until he knew how the hell that shit had gotten on the boys pathetic excuse for clothing, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near the club.
“Won’t pay the entrance fee,” the bouncer supplied crossly, throwing the stranger a particularly filthy look. Silas immediately found himself hoping to God the bouncer hadn’t laid a hand on him. Looking like that, the kid was in a pretty decent looking spot to try and start crying about excessive force to try and swipe some money off the club in court.
“I got this,” Silas interrupted, giving the doorman a dismissive wave of the hand before surveying the boy again. It suddenly struck him that if he wasn’t very much mistaken, it looked he had been crying. That, and unless that shirt was covering something important, none of the blood appeared to be his. Okay, maybe not such a waste of an evening after all, his interest had just been piqued. “You alright? What happened?” he asked in a manner that managed to sound a suitable level of concerned.
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Dominic Spencer
Vampire (A)
Marshmellow
Pain in the ass, miraculously dodging death.
Posts: 107
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Post by Dominic Spencer on Oct 2, 2009 6:09:59 GMT 1
Dominic looked the new man up and down, his tongue still running over his fangs. There would be no point attacking either one of them now, even he knew two against one wouldn’t swing in his favour. Those wands were dangerous when wizards were given enough time to use them and the young vampire already had been a punching bag enough for one night. That and the fact the bouncer was now looking smugly at him had begun to frustrate the boy to no end.
”Of course I won’t pay the entry fee, it’s ridiculous and downright impossible,” Dom snapped with an ill-tempered glare for the bouncer. Stupid man, how could he not hear how silly the entrance fee was? The only money he had on him was, well, none actually. He didn’t exactly have to buy anything, especially his food, at this time of night. Whenever he ate out, the meals had a habit of being free. Besides, he was a drifter, an awesome one at that, and drifters lived off very little and were very good at it.
Watching the new man eye him up made Dominic feel slightly uncomfortable. He glanced down to see what it was the man was looking at and saw it was the dried blood that had caught his attention. The boy knew there would be no signs, maybe aside from the fading bruising around his nose, that would suggest the blood was indeed his. ”I’d be better if your bouncer would let me in. You’re the boss I presume? Well then this service is terrible and you already know what I think about the entry fee,” Dom answered snidely, neglecting to answer the question of what happened. As far as he was concerned it was none of the strange man’s business.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Oct 3, 2009 15:24:32 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] Right. Who the fuck did this jerkoff think he was?
“Let me get this straight,” Silas repeated, folding his arms and raising one eyebrow. His voice was still paced and civil but now with an added hint of sarcasm. “You’re pissed off that a profit-driven business, isn't giving you free stuff?” The boy didn’t look drunk enough to be that stupid, so either he was merely a spoilt brat or just another young asshat trying to impress anyone he could by being argumentative and failing spectacularly at it. “Kid, are you familiar at all with the word ‘capitalism’?”
There wasn’t much that Silas had patience for, and out of the one or two items on the list of things he found tolerable, ‘cocky teenagers’ wasn’t one of them. Bloodstained or not, he could probably just get the bouncer to toss the brat and deny having seen the little runt anywhere near the club tonight. It’s not like the boy was anyone—
... Please may that just be a fucking trick of the light.
Silas frowned, shifting his weight to his other leg and keeping a close eye on the boy’s mouth. No, there it was again. Fuck. Unless he’d started hallucinating in the last few seconds, for a brief moment a pair of fangs had been visible underneath the boy’s upper lip. Fuck, the rest of it suddenly made sense. The kid was pale enough to blind someone and of course he didn’t have any cuts or bruises on him. God fucking damnit, since when had ‘Scores’ come to mean ‘All You Can Eat’?
Was this the one that had attacked Jac? The idea darted to his mind immediately, but was just as quickly discarded. No, if he was he’d be inside the club already, not stamping his foot and throwing a tantrum to get in. Whoever it was had more sense than that and this one had the subtlety of a boathouse painted in fresh elephant’s blood with the corpse still sitting on the dock. Besides, he couldn’t get in anyway, not without Silas’s personal permission – and honestly? It’s not like he had much of a shot of getting it after this.
“Answer me, who was it?” he asked a little more crisply, uncrossing his arms to gesture at the bloodstains before sticking his hands in his pockets, left fist closing around his wand handle as a precaution. He’d decided to assume from the amount of blood on him, the thick downward strokes of the stains and the boys general demeanour that he had been the one to come off worse. If vampires were having fights in the neighbourhood that was something he needed to make his business, immediately.
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Dominic Spencer
Vampire (A)
Marshmellow
Pain in the ass, miraculously dodging death.
Posts: 107
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Post by Dominic Spencer on Oct 3, 2009 15:40:36 GMT 1
The sarcasm in the new man’s voice did not escape Dominic’s notice, what was it with people and taking that tone with him tonight? The vampire sighed, clenching his fist tighter. Being treated like he was an idiot was starting to get on his nerves. The hopes of spending the night with a dancer were becoming fainter and fainter, such a shame. Dancers of any kind were always the most flexible, especially when it counted.
”I know I should pay to get in but how do you expect me to pay in sailing boats and grass cutters? Do I look like I have any on me at the moment? I told your man here that and he was no help at all. In fact he was bloody useless,” the boy complained in a patronising tone in an attempt to bait the bouncer into a scuffle. Winning a fight over a mortal, although a little easy, would make him feel better he’d decided already.
Oh shit. Dominic closed his mouth when he realised the fancy looking guy was staring at it. When he got angry he tended to accidently flash his fangs and give himself away. The flaxen-haired vampire’s maker had always tried to tell him off about it and usually he was pretty good at keeping his fangs hidden but he’d slipped up now. God damn it. If he had any chance of entry before, that was completely gone now. Stupid fucking vampirism.
Oh and to make things even worse the blood had been pointed out. The young vampire rolled his eyes and inwardly chastised himself, although he supposed the blood would have been noticed either way. ”Some asshole named Dacian, though I don’t see how that’s any of your business as he’s one of my kind. Our affairs don’t concern you mortal,” he spat, reciting a speech he’d heard as a changeling many times. Personally he loved humans but not the ones in front of him at the present time.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Oct 6, 2009 14:21:08 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] “How do you expect me to pay in sailing boats and grass cutters?” the vampire complained loudly, but his attempt to sound condescending was ruined somewhat by the fact he was making no Goddamned sense. Silas blinked, brow furrowing in a rather noticeable confusion as though the boy has just announced he was a secret Ministry agent who had arrived in order to inspect soil quality. What the flying fuck was this idiot on about?
“Sailing boats and grass—” he repeated before he realised what the hell he meant. Oh come on, who could possibly take the names for Wizarding money literally? The kid was either new around here or he was trying and failing spectacularly to attempt sarcasm. Then again, maybe he was really was just that stupid. “Hilarious,” Silas replied sardonically, now well and truly convinced the boy had a mental capacity somewhere between a desk chair and a woodlouse.
Okay, patience definitely running out. He was seriously considering giving whoever had beaten the kid up a drink on the house if he ever ran into him. As if the runt hadn’t been asking for it.
“Some asshole named Dacian—”
What?!
“Dacian’s dead.”
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[/i] Silas snarled back with a vehemence that was downright alarming. His hands were out of his pockets and balled into fists before he’d even realised. Of course the vampire was dead! He’d been there; he’d been the one to fucking do it! Like hell some fucking moron was going to be the one to tell him that the bastard was still up and moving. Although, shit, maybe the young vampire just hadn’t been specific enough. Silas took a breath and unclenched his fists. Surely there was more than one man walking around with the name Dacian. It’s not like the one he knew had a copywrite on it, despite the fact the name itself was a little unusual. Fuck, he wasn’t even sure if it was a vampire that was responsible. “—he’s one of my kind. Our affairs don’t—” Yep, vampire. Fuck. “Around this tall, long brown hair, black duster fetish?” Silas listed off brusquely, completing ignoring the last part of the boys little speech and holding his hand up at approximately the five foot ten or eleven mark. God. Fucking. Damnit. [/justify][/color][/font][/td][td][atrb=valign,top] [/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=valign,bottom] [/td][td][atrb=valign,bottom] [/td][/tr][/table] [/center]
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Dominic Spencer
Vampire (A)
Marshmellow
Pain in the ass, miraculously dodging death.
Posts: 107
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Post by Dominic Spencer on Oct 7, 2009 13:36:51 GMT 1
What? Did the man seriously think he was joking? Why did wizards have to be so different? At Silas’ reaction Dom finally figured out that Galleons and Sickles must be wizard money. What was wrong with them using pounds and the like? ”I wasn’t joking, I had no idea that’s what wizard money was called,” the boy said indignantly, a dark look on his face that resembled something close to a pout. He was feeling mighty embarrassed now and was contemplating giving up and going back to where he was staying when Silas’ snap made the boy jump.
”Well this Dacian was most certainly alive,” Dom snapped back. Just the thought of the other vampire was making his nose start to throb again. By now the bruising and swelling had almost gone and completely disappeared but the memory of the event hadn’t. The whole thing had been so embarrassing he was getting angry at both himself and Dacian going over it in his memory. It was that and the fact the new man was looking rather threatening. Instinctively the flaxen-haired vampire balled his fists up ready for a fight.
He scrutinised Silas’ measurements and nodded at them. ”Yeah that’s about his height but his hair was shortish and I don’t think he was wearing a duster, just black normal clothes,” Dom answered impatiently, wanting nothing more than to either go inside or go home. Home was looking like the more obvious destination at this point in time. ”Now what? From your reaction you obviously don’t like the guy, hang on a sec. You didn’t give him that scar across his face did you?” the boy asked curiously, mildly fearful. If it had been this wizard that had given Dacian the holy scar then Dom didn’t want to hang around him any longer than he had to.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Oct 8, 2009 7:36:55 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] Shortish hair and regular clothes. The measurements were about right but the rest didn’t add up. Yes, perhaps it wasn’t the best to be jumping to conclusions so quickly. Or maybe he should be jumping to conclusions. It wasn’t as though it was impossible for Dacian to change his appearance, but fuck, how the fucking hell was he meant to have survived a stab to the heart and getting his fucking spine severed? He couldn’t have. There was no fucking way. He’d left the body in the open barely minutes before dawn. There shouldn’t even be a body for Dacian to regenerate with!
“You didn’t give him that scar across his face did you?” asked the vampire suddenly, a note of worry in his voice. Silas responded with an instantaneous volley of curses. Memories of the night in question were being pulled to the forefront of his mind, and he definitely recalled that Dacian had indeed been slashed over the eye with the holy knife he had given Cain. The coincidences were too much to ignore.
“No,” Silas replied quickly without thinking, the dislike of Dacian practically oozing from every syllable as he continued speaking, “but I know of who did.”
The fact the older vampire was both alive, active and in the area should be reason enough to be concerned, but Silas was feeling less worried than he ought to be, instead more furious the prick had managed to return. He’d just kill him again the moment he found him, but fuck. In any case, looked like he could now answer the question as to who Jac’s mystery attacker was. Bastard.
He surveyed Dom thoughtfully for a moment before speaking, not realising his hands had clenched into fists again. What the fuck to do with the boy now? Whoever he was, he happened to be the only person he knew that had even a scrap of information, ignoring the fact he was about as dumb as a post. This was assuming the boy wasn’t lying his arse off. Fuck if he knew what reasons the stranger might have for making up Dacian’s survival, but just because Silas couldn’t guess the ulterior motive didn’t mean there wasn’t any.
He needed to find out more, and that may be a tad difficult if he turned the young vampire into a crisp first. Well, he said ‘young’, but with vampires it was impossible to tell for sure. He didn’t look much older than twenty and certainly didn’t have the mental capacity or maturity much better than that, so if Silas had to guess he’d say the vampire wasn’t that old. As if you could go much longer than that and still not have a fucking clue about the wizarding world.
“Well, you know what they say: An enemy of an enemy,” he resigned at length, exhaling audibly and speaking with an affected calmness, although the fact he was less than pleased about the news he had received was still clear. He'd unclenched his fists at least. “You know what? Forget the entrance charge. Were you still looking for a night out?” Although he wouldn’t be surprised if the kid refused; he looked about ready to crawl back home, which just wouldn’t do until he was sure he had gotten all the information he could. The more he thought about it the more likely it was sounding that all this was being made up and if that was indeed the case, the boy had signed his own death certificate. As if he could have somehow managed to miss the fact Dacian was still alive that night.
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Dominic Spencer
Vampire (A)
Marshmellow
Pain in the ass, miraculously dodging death.
Posts: 107
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Post by Dominic Spencer on Oct 11, 2009 9:02:21 GMT 1
Keeping a careful eye on the strange mortal, Dom resigned to stand quietly and wait for the man to take in what he’d said. The guy didn’t look happy about the news Dacian was a live and beating up other vampires. Maybe, through this man, the blond vampire could exact vengeance on the older of his kin? No, mortals were not to be trusted with vampire affairs and if this man went after Dacian himself Dom would rather stay out of it. Whatever bad blood they had between them was their business and his trifle with the older vampire was a different matter.
That being said it was probably better if he kept as much information about himself to himself. Dom didn’t need or want Dacian hunting him down, especially since he already would if he found out the flaxen-haired vampire had set foot in Hogsmeade. Well technically he hadn’t yet but he sure as Hell was going to, soon.
So the mortal knew who’d inflicted the holy scar, a clear sign the man knew how to deal with vampires and was one that may have to be avoided in the future. ”The scar was a holy one, a nasty one at that,” the boy reflected derisively, letting the mortal know he did not approve at all. The use of holy items was something the young vampire felt was a dirty tactic. Just because someone wasn’t powerful or diplomatic enough to deal with one of his kind didn’t mean God had to become involved.
”Huh?” Dom sounded quietly, utterly confused. The man’s saying had made no sense to him, he’d never heard it before but the boy decided not to challenge it further. Wizards, of what little he knew about them, were different to normal humans. They had their own customs, money and, obviously, sayings too. His face brightened when the entry fee was announced null and void for him but he was also suspicious. ”Yes, but why? Why the sudden change of heart on your part?” the blond asked slowly, eyeing Silas with apprehension.
”It has suddenly occurred to me that I don’t even know your name. I presume you’re the proprietor of this place and I would feel rude accepting your generous offer without knowing whom I would be thanking for it,” the young vampire said respectfully, his suspicion guarded with a fake look of eagerness. ”I am Thomas Harrow but everyone calls me Tom,” Dom lied with practised ease, holding out his hand as part of the introduction.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Oct 20, 2009 12:07:20 GMT 1
“Why the sudden change of heart?” the young vampire responded suspiciously. Silas felt himself almost sigh exasperatedly. Oh come on, the kid couldn’t be that clueless could he? Was he from the absolute backwoods of nowhere or something? First there was that ridiculous statement he’d made about the scar being holy (no shit Sherlock, what else left scars on vampires?) and now this.
“‘The enemy of an enemy is a friend,’” Silas repeated slowly, his tone somehow managing to avoid any hint of patronisation. Cue the flying pigs. Well, if not a friend, at least an ally against a mutual enemy, but the point still stood. He wasn’t ruling out either that Dom might be playing the role of the moron to sell his story. Although what the hell was in it for the kid in pretending the older vampire was still lurking? On the off-chance he was telling the truth, this was entirely Ed’s fault. If the stupid bartender hadn’t of interrupted before he’d had a chance to divide the body into pieces, no one would be in this fucking mess.
“Ancient Arabic and Chinese proverb, and it applies double as far as Dacian is concerned,” Silas added. Everything applied double with that fucking vampire: double the irritations, double the time wasted, and apparently double the stakes and sunlight needed to finish the job. “He has a magical habit of always coming back.” Understatement. “Don’t be surprised if you end up seeing him again.”
So the kid was called Thomas Harrow, huh? There had to be a way to check up on that one. Even vampires had birth records. Silas was hesitant to provide his name in return, especially seeing as the last thing he wanted was any information about him filtering back to Dacian. Instead he gave a sideward’s look at the bouncer who was listening in bewilderedly before he grudgingly answered with “Rosier, let’s say I know the ownership.” Never before had he been glad to have a brother working in the same place and with whom he shared a decent resemblance.
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