Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => Sticks & Stakes Pool Hall => Topic started by: pentagrandma on May 09, 2019, 03:42:16 PM
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Aislin pushed past the double-doors and into the pool hall with a measure of faux bravado. It was a Saturday night, and she had overdressed for the seedy establishment, sheathed as she was in a velvet mock-neck romper that glittered like an imitation galaxy; it was paired with a black patent moto jacket and retro go-go booties to match. She’d spent the last several days rationalizing her own self-imprisonment, wallowing in self-pity inside her shitty one-room apartment. But she’d had enough, and needed an excuse - any excuse - to feel good about herself. To go out and experience this new life of hers; this city. She'd just barely missed registration for spring quarter at the art institute, but she could still go out and do things. Besides, how could she feel bad about having no friends if she never made an effort to find any? … Not that this is the ideal place to do it, she concluded after perfunctory inspection.
Still, she made her way toward the bar - picking out a random stool and stepping up to seat herself upon its dingy cushion. “I promise I’m of age,” she said, casting a winning smile toward the bartender as metallic-blue polished fingertips probed into a jacket pocket to obtain identification. It was from out of state, and she prayed he wouldn’t believe it fake; but was pleasantly surprised when he spared it only the briefest of glances, and asked her what she’d have. “Vodka tonic,” she replied, paying cash and leaving a generous tip. Server habits die hard, even when funds are low.
With drink in hand, she swiveled in her stool to face the tables and their corresponding players. Being there made her homesick; the mingling scents of old, spilt beer and stale cigarette smoke; the clack of pool cues against balls, and the crash that usually followed; even the jukebox in the corner served as reminder. Everything the same, but so very different. There wasn’t much to do by way of recreation in her small hometown, but pool and alcohol… those, they had.
She sipped from her drink and resisted the urge to scroll through her phone. Appearing unapproachable would get her nowhere, even if she were the one to do the approaching. Instead, she scanned the crowd - in search of a friendly face... Or an intriguing one.
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(ooc: This is not necessarily the best fit, character wise, but my character loves this setting and I can't bear to let such a lovely opener remain idle any longer! ;D)
Dominic didn't notice the stylish newcomer until he decided he wanted another beer. He spotted her as he headed towards the bar. She looked cool and collected but altogether too fancy for this place. Perhaps this was just a convenient meeting point; that made sense. She seemed to be looking around, though it felt more like she was eyeing off the competition more than searching for a familiar face. He looked respectable in his dark bootcut jeans, maroon longline T-shirt with a curved hem and crew neck and brown boots (clean, suede ones, rather than his work boots) but he had nothing on her.
As he walked up to lean on the bar beside her, he smiled so his dimples showed, deciding to take a risk. "Hey there. You looking for a game?" he enquired, turning away briefly to order his beer as the tender came up to him. Once he'd finished speaking, he returned his gaze to the impeccably-dressed woman, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. The chunky silver chain and cross nestled between his solid pectorals glinted in the light with his every movement.
He'd already begun to think of the woman as a princess, doubting she'd actually come here to play. A woman like her would surely have far more interesting prey to hunt than a lonely guy monopolising a pool table by himself on a Saturday night. "I have a table. Or are you waiting for someone?" he added, supplying her with an easy out if she wasn't interested in some pool and a friendly chat.
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Internally agonizing the thought of asserting herself into an already-established clique, Ash had nearly relented. Particularly, she’d begun to fear disapproval based on her excessive state of dress - be it spoken, or otherwise. She should have worn something more casual, to fit in. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? To belong somewhere? … Just as she lifted her glass to her lips in a bid to reaffirm her courage, her attention landed upon the approaching man. He was attractive in a sort of way that wasn’t seen in her hometown - and she considered him well-dressed, even if he wasn’t as spruced as she.
She couldn’t help but to meet his smile with one of her own. She’d always found dimples pleasing, and often wished she’d had a pair - if only so she could charm others in the same way that she felt charmed by them. “I guess I am,” she answered, aiming to curb the relief that threatened to flood her tone, as she angled herself in her stool for better viewing.
Her focus fell upon the cross lauding the man’s pectorals while he turned momentarily away. Gaudy, she thought, making a compulsory effort to lift her gaze anew - lest she admire the surrounding assets at impolite length. “I’m not waiting for anyone,” she further divulged, punctuating her words with an easy shrug. After a brief pause, she added, “But I’m not very good at pool. If you don’t mind that, then I’m game.” It wasn’t a complete lie; she wasn’t an ace, by any means, but she certainly wasn’t bad, either.
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Dominic laughed good-naturedly, wondering if she was telling the truth. He'd been sharked by princesses before. And princes, for that matter. He'd play conservatively until he figured out how much effort he'd need to apply to win - but win, he would.
"That's cool. I'm no expert myself. I'm Dom," he introduced, organising his beer into the hand still holding his cue so that he could hold his left hand out towards her to shake.
"I'll head back to the table. You might wanna' collect yourself a cue on the way," he advised, gesturing at the racks spaced out on the walls surrounding the pool hall. His table was in a good position near the wall but there weren't any cues in the rack nearest. There wasn't a grand selection available, given that the place was relatively busy, but she still had choices... he hoped that at least one of them matched her height.
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Aislin stepped down from her stool to slip her hand into his, and subject it to an affable squeeze. Even with the additional inches provided by her boots, Dom was far loftier than she. “Ash,” she responded in kind, reclaiming her hand thereafter.
… “Right,” she acknowledged in the wake of his advice; the single word carried out upon a small laugh of her own. She fell into stride at his back as he made his way toward the table - lagging further behind in her scrutiny of the available cues. Pausing along the wall, whereupon one such cue-rack had not yet been excessively culled, she trailed her blue-painted fingertips overtop her selection. She drank thoughtfully from her beverage as she considered her options, supposing that she didn’t have much room to be picky - and if she were, well… that would contradict her previously-declared amateur state, wouldn’t it?
A glance was afforded toward her newfound companion - both so that she wouldn’t lose sight of him, as well as to determine whether or not she was being watched. She decided that she didn’t care, returning her focus to the task at hand. With the occasional, off-hand sip from her glass, she withdrew two cues in turn. With each, she examined their length, testing their weight within her palm; with one, she went so far as to lift the butt to eye-level, and peer down its length. Good enough, she determined, before winding her way toward the table with a cheeky smile - cue in hand.
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By the time Ash got back to the table, Dom had racked the balls and hung the triangle on its hook on the side of the table. He greeted her with a reciprocal smile, encouraged by her happy face.
"You look pleased with yourself," he observed, wondering how the process of choosing a cue had resulted in her looking like the cat that got the cream. "You come here often?" he asked, suspecting that her grin was connected to some sort of joke she was playing on him. He then laughed as his question registered, swiping his hands - still loaded up with his cue and beer bottle respectively - between them in a negating gesture.
"Shit, I didn't mean that the way it sounded!" he declared, eyes wide and dancing with mirth (there may even have been a blush of pink, tinging his cheeks with embarrassment).
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Dom’s accidental line, in addition to his placating gesticulation, earned a merry bout of laughter - breezy and unruffled. “It’s fine,” Ash offered in her own attempt to mollify. “The answer is no,” she continued on, a trace of humor sparked within her own gaze, and likewise coloring her tone. “I’ve never been here; this is my first time. I’ve actually just moved. You’re the first person I’ve met, aside from my landlord.”
Maintaining an instinctive measure of eye-contact as she spoke, Ash noted the striking color of Dom’s eyes. She’d seen they were light before, sure, but she hadn’t really looked; hadn’t noticed how vivid they were, or how expressive; hadn’t observed how well they contrasted with his skin tone, or their thick outlining of lashes. It should be a punishable crime for a man to have lashes that long and pretty. Unfair.
… “Loser buys the winner a drink?” She proposed, sipping from the one in her possession as though in punctuation. It was almost gone, but that was fine; she’d always played a little better with a light buzz. Not that one drink was enough to get her there. She didn't much mind losing, either.
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Dom was glad she laughed his blunder off; he chuckled as well, shaking his head at his own idiocy. Still, it seemed like the perfect opener because now he knew she really didn't come here often. Her outfit had indicated as much, but he hadn't wanted to presume, because she looked beautiful and her confidence made her radiant. She might have been a local intending to outshine most of the folks in the pool hall. He thought she could've done it even if she'd been dressed in a burlap sack - and that was entirely discounting her hair.
He pulled a playful face and sucked in an intimidated whistle at being told he was only the second person she'd met in the city. "Now the pressure's on," he quipped, implying that he felt obligated to make a good impression. Close on the heels of that thought came one about just how educated she was about what prowled the city's streets. Out-of-town humans generally didn't have a clue; usually only supernaturals flocked here to join the party. Still, it wasn't Dominic's place to tell her. It was also against District laws.
"Deal," he agreed to her terms of play, turning to put his drink on the window sill beside their table - one of the advantages of getting a wall table. The window was open, allowing the fresh scents of the night - such as they were, in this part of town - to roll past the bars and alleviate the ripe fragrance of sour alcohol and marginally cool down the sweaty bodies playing hard within the hall. "You want to break?" he asked Ash with a grin, prepared to allow her to choose. It seemed the honourable thing for a local to do, for a newbie.
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Ash exhaled another little puff of laughter. “As it should be,” came her response to his implication. “If you turn out to be awful, then I’ll naturally assume that everyone else in this city is the same. I’ll be forced to move again, and god--” she overstated around a playful sigh, “--do I hate moving.” The truth was, not even the worst of experiences could have convinced her to leave so soon. She’d waited too long to be here, worked too hard; no way was she running back home with her tail caught between her legs.
His grin was met with one of her own, accompanied by a nod in the wake of his offer. “Yes, please. It’s probably my only chance at winning,” she confessed. Another half-truth; she hadn’t any inkling as to how skilled he was. Either way, she suffered no qualms with taking advantage of his offer. At least, as things stood, she could play poorly without risk of embarrassment.
Turning toward the windowsill, she downed the remaining contents of her drink - setting the glass down afterward with a soft clink and the sound of settling ice. She dried the condensation from her palm with a swipe of her hand against a bare thigh. Even with the faint, nearby breeze of outside air - or, perhaps, in spite of - Ash had begun to break a mild sweat. Her jacket needed to come off, and she took to mentally cursing her choice of costume anew. Fuck it, she thought; if she was going to be flashy, she’d do it with dignity. She stripped herself of her patent jacket, draping it over a stool that remained, mercifully, unoccupied. Her starry playsuit was markedly fitted - calling attention to the slimness of her waist, as well as the swell of curves below. It was modest, only in the sense that she was fully covered from neck to upper-thigh, with sleeves long enough to warrant the use of twin thumbholes.
‘Fake it ‘til you make it,’ had always been Aislin’s favorite aphorism; one that she had frequently proven effective within various trials in her life. Even now, she’d convinced herself she was hot shit as she practiced the maxim - returning to the blue-felted table in a way that suggested this was commonplace for her. Just an outfit. She took up the little square of chalk and smudged it over the tip of her cue, placing it upon one corner of the table thereafter. As she adjusted the location of the cue-ball behind the line, she asked, “Do you prefer to call shots, or keep it casual?” She would’ve chosen the latter, but she thought it only fair for him to decide - given that he’d yielded the break.
Curling her fingers over the felted edge of the table and arcing her thumb to serve as guide, Ash bent over her cue in a position that affirmed she was no novice. After a few experimentally tentative thrusts, she drove the tip home with a satisfying clack - sending the pyramid of balls scattering and ricocheting until two sunk. One stripe, and one solid.
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Dominic chuckled appreciatively at her joke that he would represent the citizens of the city and possibly cause her to move away. "Nobody does," he agreed solemnly, because moving was awful in every way, as far as he was concerned. He was about to elaborate and ask her where she'd come from but she continued talking. He scoffed when she said breaking might be her only chance to win, playing down his own abilities. He had the home table advantage, he supposed; he came here often, by contrast.
When she asked about calling shots, he realised they'd rather neglected the discussion of the rules they'd use; there were official rules, commonly understood rules, pub rules and Sticks and Stakes rules. They needed to decide. "Keep it casual," he confirmed first but then waited until she'd broken. When two went in off, his eyes widened and he gave another scoff, this time accompanied by a smirk and a pointed look.
"Riiiight. Okay then, 'amateur'. Generally, the rules played in this joint are - you nominate what you want now, since you sank one of each, and that's what you stick with. Mind, you'd have the same option even if you only sank one, you can still nominate for the opposite, if you want, as long as you sink one. A tricky rule is that you have to cushion on every shot - whether it's the white ball or the colour ball doesn't matter, but one of them has to strike a cushion every shot or you give up two shots.
"Two shots can accumulate. Sinking the white off the eight ball isn't end of game, it's just surrendering two shots and you don't have to re-sit the white ball in the D if you've got two shots, you can place it anywhere behind this line," he indicated the line that went from one side of the table to the other at the head of the table, where the D was stencilled onto the blue felt. "Naturally, you can shoot backwards and a pants-dropped lap of the table if someone doesn't sink a ball is always optional."
Dom grinned, wondering if Ash would follow all that and whether she'd negate anything he'd said. They were regulation rules but every establishment accepted different aspects and he was open to opposition on any of it. They just had to be negotiated now, rather than later. "Any amendments?" he challenged, raising his eyebrows cheekily.
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Aislin twisted to lean against the edge of the table on one hip - a hand flattened nearby for additional support, while the other kept her cue propped upright with its butt to the ground. As Dom set forth his outline of rules, she listened with brows lofted in mild incredulity. So much for keeping it casual. She took a moment to be grateful for the billiards-obsessed veterans back home who insisted she know the right way to play. When he finished, she rolled her eyes - but smiled afterward to let him know that it was done in good humor.
“No,” She said in response to his challenge. “That’s all fine - but no pants-dropped laps. This is all one piece,” She added by way of explanation, lifting her free hand to touch the collar of her garment. There was nothing underneath, but she had no intention of passing on that little tidbit.
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Dominic chuckled, looking her over consideringly. "Well, yeah... I'm not a fan of that rule, myself, don't worry. I'd be even sorrier if I thought it would destroy such a beautiful outfit - not that you're in any danger of having to worry about it, with two balls down. Which do you want, by the way, bigs or smalls?"
He realised that his recitation of the house rules had held her attention hostage - she hadn't had a chance to even see which of the sets of balls had the best setups around the pockets. Now she could look and decide. He made a sweeping gesture towards the table, grinning at her.
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Ash twisted her lips into some semblance of a smirk. She liked the compliment to her outfit; it helped to ease any remaining diffidence, and she carried it with her as she turned to face the table anew. Her mouth pursed into a thoughtful little moue as she considered the spread that lay before her. There was a solid near the left center pocket that would have been an easy shot, but the rest were fairly inaccessible; clustered up with no clear path toward success. Two, isolated stripes seemed viable enough to pocket with a little extra effort on her part.
She lifted her cue, extending it parallel to the table’s surface, and slanted it this way and that - calculating the best angle of attack. “Bigs,” she finally declared, adopting his terminology. He could have that single, effortless solid victory; so long as she could sink at least one of those two stripes.
The trill of a wolf-whistle sounded from an adjacent table as Aislin bent over to make her first shot. “Why don’t you come play with us next, sweetheart?” Hailed a drunken man, whose less-intoxicated friend admonished by way of a hard elbow to the ribs. The sober friend cast an apologetic look - not toward Ash, but toward Dom. Like she was his; like his friend’s behavior might result in both of their asses being kicked. Typical. Ash afforded the pair no more than a sweet smile before resuming her focus. Cat-call aside, she hated being named ‘sweetheart’ in that patronizing tone; still, she didn’t let on that she was even remotely troubled.
Instead, she struck up a conversation as she lined up her cue, directing a query of, “Have you always lived here?” toward Dom. When she struck, the cue ball bounced against a felted edge, colliding thereafter with her intended stripe and knocking it effectively into a pocket. One down. She circled the table and positioned herself for her next attempt. This time, however, she missed; the second stripe bumped into the cushion and rolled just shy of her target.
Laughing off the loss, she stepped aside for Dom to take his turn.
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Dominic was concentrating on the balls on the table, calculating what opportunities he had for sinking and setting up now that he knew he was in charge of the solid-coloured balls, so he was stunned by the unwelcome intrusion from the nearby table. He frowned at the two guys, wondering if it would become a thing he'd have to get in the middle of but they calmed down of their own accord. He could hold his own in a fight - liking his chances especially since he was more sober than the mouthiest one - but he'd only ever waded in to settle an argument, never provoke it. Plus, there were two of them, even if they were smaller than him. His chances of defending Ash's honour were average at best.
He watched her as she glanced at them but basically gave them the cold shoulder. He was offended on her behalf, as well as appalled on his gender's behalf. Wasn't it considered gauche to do that sort of shit to objectify women these days? Hadn't the world become more enlightened yet? She didn't look overly troubled - and she made her next shot - but he'd been watching her closely since she started sinking on him. Her shoulders were tighter, as was her jaw. He thought that had a lot to do with why she finally missed but didn't say that.
"Yep, born and bred twenty-eight years ago," he answered as he moved past her to get to the white ball, "and I can tell you that we're not all as ignorant as that dickhead. I'm sorry you had to put up with that." His expression was sincere as he looked at her but tilted his head in the direction of the drunken cat-caller. "Do you know much about the city?" he asked casually as he leant down until he was as close to flat in line with the table as possible, his hand tented on the blue felt and his cue nestled snugly along the inside of his thumb. "You would've heard about it on the news, right? Those gas leaks we had here about twelve years ago that shut the city down for weeks?"
He took his shot, delivering a glancing blow to the ball positioned near the middle pocket that she'd left mostly set up - the angle was wrong and it bounced off the cushion, heading for the middle pocket on the opposite side of the table - but his main target had been the cluster of balls at the far end. He hit his seven first, the maroon ball scattering all the rest. As luck would have it, the two dropped into the corner pocket... but so did one of hers. Dominic straightened up, cringing. "You have two shots," he told her, moving towards the wall so that he could take a swig from his beer, cue resting on its butt by his feet.
Her every movement was surreptitiously scrutinised by him as he searched for signs of her knowledge regarding supernaturals. If she thought running into some guys with no manners was the biggest problem she was likely to face in this city, she had a lot of thinking left to do. Dom wasn't going to be the one to tell her but if she already knew about the Apocalypse - sold to the general public as a gas leak that shut down the city - then he'd know he could speak freely. Maybe she was waiting to say something or ask him questions, too. He hoped so.
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Ash smiled in response to Dom’s apology. It was small, subdued, but a smile all the same. She didn’t doubt his sincerity, believing his character to be evidence enough that he spoke truth. What she’d seen of it, anyway. So, she shrugged it off - releasing a measure of tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying.
When she was asked what she knew of the city, her first thoughts were geared toward the largely LGBTQIA populace. That progressiveness was part of what had drawn her. She was a touch confused when he made further mention of the gas leak, and her expression likely read as much. It wasn’t that she minded the topic; she actually found it quite fascinating. Rather, it felt somewhat… random? She supposed it must have made a strong impact on the natives.
“I was pretty young when it happened, so what I recall of the news back then is a little hazy,” she began as she closed both hands over the tip of her cue, butt on the ground, and propped her chin up on the makeshift pedestal. “But I’ve read up on it quite a bit since. It’s pretty wild to think that so many people suffered the same illusions. There are a lot of conspiracy theorists who think it’s all a big cover up.” With an oblivious grin, she made additional comment of, “Those are my favorite articles.”
That grin remained when one of her own was unwittingly sunk, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth in playful censure. Straightening up from her stance, and reaffirming her grip on her cue, she returned to the table to contemplate her next move. She had four balls left to pocket, excluding the eight, and she was still ahead by one. At this rate, she might win, after all.
“I take it you were around for it?” She inquired, figuring he must have been, since he’d brought it up. She lined up for her first shot, then reconsidered - skirting the table to come at the cue ball from an alternate angle. After sinking three more successful stripes, Aislin’s sweet little ego inflated. Her fourth shot was careless, and resulted in a scratch. Now, it was her turn to wince. "...I got cocky," she confessed, with a shade of sheepishness.
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The doors of Sticks and Stakes Pool Hall opened abruptly. The old west jumped into the present, and it wasn't a pool hall at all. It was a salon, and now all the cowpokes were looking at the latest varmint to roll into town. The varmint in question entered wearing a wry smirk proudly, his eyes narrowed, and his overall expression a mischievous one. The noise of his entrance had drawn attention, and it was clear that the person making the noise wanted attention. He sauntered inside, letting the doors flap closed behind him and moved towards the pool tables. Jimmy Barrow needed to blow off some steam, and his less fun half had been put to bed. Cain hadn't been called. He needed something different. He hoped the pool hall would scratch his itch. If not it was on to Venture or maybe even the White Rabbit.
He was bobbing and weaving slightly, the natural grace of a refined man... who also happened to be incredibly drunk. He carried it off well considering that vampires needed a lot of laced blood to get this intoxicated, and he was proud of this recent accomplishment. As he looked around at the humans on display there were a few that popped out as potential refills. At first Jimmy saw a redheaded boy that he might like. He was staring -
why wouldn't he stare?
... and had a pouty lip. Jimmy loved a pouty lip. However, the voices whispered something, a few soft scratches in the madman's ear.
Power struggle
Dom and Sub
Ash and Pickachu are really from Montana
The last one sounded like Archie, and Jimmy tapped his head to get that voice out. He realized that whatever the voices wanted, it wasn't the pouty lipped redhead, and so the child of Malkav moved deeper among the tables until he stumbled upon the game in progress. He liked the look of the pair and so while whistling an unfamiliar tune, the vampire made his way over. He wore blue skinny jeans, torn to shreds at the knee. A cute flannel and grey beanie made up the rest of the outfit, with casual sneakers on his feet. The suits and glasses were James's thing. Jimmy knew how to dress for a pool hall. His hair was a sculpted form of bedhead, and on his left hand was a claddagh ring made of pewter. A quarter came out of his pocket and he placed it down firmly on the table.
"Can I get winner," he asked, a working-class London dialect meshing well with a baritone tamper. His eyes moved first from Aislin to Dom. His breath smelled like mouthwash. "Unless you're doing a tourney." His eyes lingered on Dom's physique for a second longer than anything else.
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Aislin's answer told Dom everything he needed to know; she was ignorant. He was encouraged by the fact that she was open to the conspiracy theories about the city's gas leak, it meant she wasn't a sheep and that she might even be open to finding out the truth. He wondered how many articles she'd read and what they'd said. Not all proposed theories came close to the truth; very few had mentioned supernaturals, as far as he recalled - he'd had reason to research it when he'd lived with his ex, around the time he was debating coming clean about his, uh, kink regarding vampires. She probably hadn't found any articles that accused vampires of being real or the supernatural community as a whole of being responsible for the 'gas leak' disaster.
"Yeah. I was sixteen," he answered her question about the Apocalypse, not elaborating because it wasn't a subject he could discuss at length. The topic had served its purpose. She began wiping the table with him after that, which was embarrassing. He watched ball after ball go down, feeling a tightening in his gut at the thought of losing to this petite scrap of a redhead. He was a local, he knew this table well, he needed to get his head in the game and stop worrying about everything going on beyond the border of their table. He needed to focus!
All hope of that was blown completely away when the newcomer approached them and put his coin on the edge of their table. Of all the tables in the room, he just had to come to theirs? Dom, who'd been leaning forward to take his shot, straightened like a soldier called to attention, his eyes widening when he got a good look at the guy's face. Doctor Barrow. He remembered him, from Lazarus' trial. In fact, he'd had a burning desire to seek out this very man ever since that night and see if he could help him with his Lazarus problem. Obsession? Whatever. And now here he was, loud and in the flesh? A shiver ran down Dom's spine and he blinked, realising he should say something. He wanted to make a good impression and communication was key.
"Uh, sure. It's going to be Ash, at the rate I'm going," Dom answered, attempting a joke that came with a nervous smile and no mirth reaching his eyes. It was difficult for him to stop staring at the doctor, his mind a whirl of activity and calculation. If he played his social game right, could he score some time alone with Barrow? Had he effectively negated the notion that they were playing a tourney? He hoped Ash hadn't thought along those lines; he doubted it, because nothing had been discussed beyond the loser buying the winner a drink. Now, the winner would also be obligated to play the third in their spontaneous little trio. Focus! "I'm Dom," he added, because he couldn't remember the doctor's first name and he needed it. He didn't lean down to take his shot, waiting instead for his answer.
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Jimmy heard the names and the words from the voice's whisperers reentered his mind.
Ash.
Does she want to be the very best, like no one ever was?
Dom.
Well boy I hope so, he thought darkly about the name's owner.
"Name's Jimmy," he offered, waving his hands with a fair amount of dexterity. He turned to Dom's partner. Was this Sub? She didn't look like a sub. Then again, one could hardly know what people were into these days.
"Are you from Montana, and do you have a Pikachu?"
He gave a winning grin, and didn't bother to explain his guesses. What was the fun in that? He made an innocent expression as he waited.
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What was it like? … Ash had wanted to ask, but she wasn’t given the opportunity.
The newcomer made enough of an impression on his own. He was attractive - dressed casually, but in a charming sort of way. Her attention, however, was drawn toward Dom and his abrupt change in demeanor. The way he uncoiled and tensed; the widening of his eyes and the loss of levity therein; the effect of nerves on his previously-placid way of speaking. Had she missed something?
She turned her focus toward Jimmy with a grin, prepared to attribute her current gains to a mere streak of good fortune. Likewise, intent to supply a polite introduction, despite having already been named. A hand had even begun to lift in offer, but fell swiftly away - echoing the drop of her smile. What the fuck? Allusions to Pokémon had been a prominent enough facet of her childhood that she was able to dismiss the second part of his query, but how in the fuck had he guessed where she was from?
“Um,” she offered eloquently, casting a skeptical glance toward the bar. The bartender had checked her ID - could he have given away the information? … She’d sworn he’d only given it a cursory look, doubting he’d even bothered to peek at the photo. Finally, she brought her attention back to the man, a deluge of contending emotions flooding her tone as she asked, “How’d you guess?”
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Jimmy gave Ash a shrug, and kept his expression the same.
“I know things for a living,” he replied.
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… “Right,” she replied, apparently unconvinced. His expression was innocent enough, she supposed - but that didn’t make him reliable. Apprehension had etched itself into her brow as she looked again toward Dom, as though in seeking some sort of affirmation. She wasn’t the only one who found this weird as hell, was she? She hadn’t even told him where she was from yet. What kind of living could this dude make investigating someone as insignificant as her? She was a literal nobody.
Could he be-- gasp! --a stalker?! Immediately, she shook away that thought, and forced her features to smooth. It was probably nothing; she was overthinking.
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Jimmy. So that was his name. Okay.
Dominic's expression was reproving but he couldn't say anything. It wasn't in him to chastise a vampire - let alone one he wanted a chance to get help from - but he thought the doctor's parlour tricks (he assumed he'd read Ash's mind and wondered if he was observing his thoughts in the same way) were entirely inappropriate. How could he get away with spouting things he shouldn't know to an ignorant mortal? Dom knew the new laws and, in every district, they were all still concerned with maintaining the illusion of normalcy. He hadn't been blatant but Dom could see what had been said was irrational enough to have unsettled Ash.
"Ash is brand new to the city," he told the Englishman, doing his best to sound nonchalant as he moved into a shooting position, bent low over the table. "Try to make a good impression by not freaking her out, yeah, Jimmy?" Dom requested. He focussed on his shot then, aiming to skim the outside edge of the ball he'd sent near the other middle pocket and sink it on the way to the cluster he'd broken up at the far end. He knew he needed to put a bit of bottom spin on the cue ball so it didn't bounce too hard off the far cushion. He breathed out as he took the shot. Finally, his plan worked when the middle ball went in and he was left with position on two more of his balls.
As he walked past Ash to get to where he'd shoot from next, he raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes upward, indicating their new playmate. "Bet I'm not looking half bad at all, right now," he joked quietly, smiling at her so that his dimples showed. He hoped it was a reassuring smile and that she was encouraged by his gesture of solidarity. He gave her forearm a light touch and then spun to take his shot.
He managed to sink the next two balls in quick succession, his setups working in his favour, but his last two balls were back at the other end of the table, blocked by the eight and one of Ash's balls. He'd have to take his time and measure out some angles in order to hit them without giving away two shots; he found a midway point for his cue to rest on on a far cushion and did his best to work backwards and calculate the exact angle, the place he'd need to strike the cushion and then where he'd have to hit the white ball. Tension rose in him and around the two sets of eyes now watching his every move but he fought it off, took his shot... and failed to connect with his ball first. He knocked one of Ash's balls closer to the corner pocket instead.
"Damnit!" he swore, disappointment flooding through him. "Two for you," he told his opponent with a wry grin, reclaiming his customary position drinking his beer while leaning against the wall. Surreptitiously, he watched Jimmy, not game enough to go over and stand beside him while he waited for Ash to have her go.
-
Jimmy looked at Dom with an annoyed expression. He didn’t see what the big deal was. It’s not like he was reading their minds! His desire to play with them had been blunted. Perhaps this wasn’t where he we supposed to be after all.
“Well we cant have that,” he replied with a healthy dose of cheery. “Enjoy your game you too. I’ll be at the bar until there’s a winner to face. Welcome to the city Ash.”
He nodded at Ash and was all polite smiles as he walked away from the table, leaving his quarter in place. Maybe that redhead was still around. He’d come for a good time and if he needed someone to tell him how to behave it wouldn’t be from a human he’d only just met.
-
There were those dimples, coaxing Aislin back toward peace of mind. She laughed at Dom’s joke, finding additional comfort in his brief touch. Her lingering smile only began to subside in observation of his last shot. Ouch. A part of her had hoped that he’d gain the lead, and triumph against her. She had half a mind to throw the game, if only so she wouldn’t have to oppose Jimmy. Two shots were really all she’d need to win; it would be too obvious if she did that now, wouldn’t it?
She looked toward Jimmy as he spoke again, providing a smile and the customary, “Thank you,” in response to his welcoming words. She watched as he walked away, waiting until she believed him well out of earshot before finally giving voice to her most repeated thought since he’d come to join them. “What in the actual fuck?”
With brows raised to further convey the sentiment, she returned her focus to Dom. “Do you know that guy?” She inquired. The fact that they had exchanged names had suggested they’d never met, but she still felt the need to ask. A contemplative glance was cast toward the game table. Still, she made no move to yet take her turn, apparently in no hurry to wrap things up. She needed another drink.
-
Dominic was mortified by Jimmy's departure, watching him head for the bar with a fluttery feeling beating in his chest. He regretted saying anything untoward now, even offhandedly. It hadn't been his place, he should've just kept his stupid mouth shut. Shit, fuck, motherfucking fuck! He'd offended a vampire! Unless... unless he'd moved away so that Dom could speak with him alone? He would've read that thought in his head. Of course! It was all a strategy.
Feeling less panicked, he turned to smile at Ash, unsure how to reassure her without giving anything away. He knew they were in the district of Saraekiel, a dark angel, and suspected that a place this busy would have 'observers' placed around it, listening in. The only angel he'd ever known - Gene - hadn't been the type of guy anyone would fear, but a dark angel sounded like an entirely different story to Dom. He wasn't interested in breaking any laws, but how could he reassure Ash, answer her and not incriminate himself?
"Uhhh, yeah, I know, right?" he laughed, pulling a face that matched her 'wtf' query, finishing his beer and putting the bottle down on the sill again. "I know of him but we've never officially met. He wouldn't know me. He's a head doctor of some sort. I heard a rumour he's psychic. I never believed it but... maybe it's true?" he shrugged. "There's a... lot of strange people in this city. You kinda get used to it," he nodded thoughtfully, as if he was encouraging her to agree with him. "Want me to go have a word with him and get us new drinks while I'm at it? Pretty sure it'll be my shout anyway," he grinned.
He hoped she couldn't tell just how badly he was quivering with the desire to stride away from the table and sneak a word with the doctor in private.
-
Psychic? Aislin mulled that over for a moment, lips twisting into a thoughtful little pout. She turned her attention toward the bar, seeking out the strange man with her gaze. She didn’t find it completely implausible. There’d always been a part of her that wanted to believe in things like that; spiritual and mystic things; supernatural things. Maybe she’d misjudged him. She felt somewhat guilty over it now.
When she returned her focus to Dom, she rolled her shoulders in an easy enough shrug. “Sure, if you want,” she said, words carried out upon a calming exhalation. If he wants; not her. She didn’t know him well enough to recognize his facade, but she still felt that something was slightly off. “Vodka tonic,” she disclosed thereafter, spanning a composed smile of her own. “Should I wait for you to come back for my turn, or do you trust me not to cheat?”
-
At the bar, the redhead was proving to be not that interesting.
Oh you went to Duke?
Who's your father know?
Yes, yes, you're very pretty.
Jimmy was already bored, and the whispers were silent on this one. That was no fun at all. He naturally disengaged, letting the boy down gently by completely ignoring him. After a few pissy digs, the boy got up and left, leaving an open bar stool next to Jimmy. He wondered if the pair from before would actually get him when the game was over, or whether guessing Ash was from Montana was a step too far. Humans were such uninformed creatures and he sometimes forgot how limiting the conversation could be. In truth, Jimmy had trouble remembering the importance of the Masquerade. That was James's department. He was also starting to sober up, and hoped that a neck would soon rear it's head.
-
Dominic's heart performed an excited somersault as Ash declared she didn't mind if he went to speak to Jimmy and he laughed good-naturedly at her question. "I trust you. I won't be surprised to come back here and find it's all over," he grinned, grabbing their empties to take with him to the bar.
As he approached, he was relieved to see the seat beside the doctor open up. He moved closer cautiously, unsure what sort of reception to expect. "Doctor Barrow?" he queried, sidling onto the stool like any man of his size trying to sit down at a child's tea party might; carefully. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke. It was wrong of me to question you. Obviously, you know what you're doing and I can't apologise enough for thinking you wouldn't know Ash is ignorant. Of course you didn't need a warning! I... I told her I'd heard you were psychic, I hope that's okay?"
Dom kept his head low, his entire body cowed with regret as he tentatively placed the empty glass and bottle on the bar ahead of him while he spoke. Doing so magically summoned the bartender and he hastily ordered another beer and Ash's vodka and tonic before he turned to look humbly at Jimmy. It'd been too long since he'd come into contact with a vampire and, truthfully, this one had a far more alluring vibe than Ben and Kerr had (when they'd coached him to present evidence that had never come to fruition). As quickly as the notion occurred to him, he tried to shuffle it out of his brain. Such thoughts weren't going to be helpful.
-
As he was about to leave - bored out of his mind - the delicious looking human Dom approached. He felt almost double Jimmy's size, and the delicateness with which he sat down only added to his Hulk like appearance. Jimmy didn't like being called Dr. Barrow. That was James, but he remembered that not everyone knew that, least of all a human like Dom. Then the rest of his words were so apologetic, almost like grovelling. Jimmy liked that very much. He turned on his stool, "accidentally" brushing their thighs together. "Oh excuse me," he said innocently, fidgeting in the seat and only managing to rub against Dom more. After a few more seconds of fidgeting, he finally managed to free his leg from the human's, unless of course Dom pulled away at first touch. Jimmy doubted that would happen, and he didn't even have to read Dom's mind to make that guess.
Once they were sitting more congenially, Jimmy waved away the apology with a flick of his wrist. The wry smirk of his entrance resumed on his face, and he looked at Dom like a cat stares at a yummy looking mouse. "Oh no need to apologize," he lied, loving every bit of the apology. "I sometimes forget not everyone in this city is in the know. It's why I chose to relocate here."
He locked eyes with Dom and found them ever so pretty. The human was named Dom and looked Dom, but his apology was so submissive. Was he both Dom and Sub? Was this the power struggle; Dom's attention? He thought of Ash as an opponent for a moment, before dismissing the thought as too simplistic. After all, she never answered if she had a Pikachu or not. There were still unchecked boxes on that one too. He found it humorous Dom had told her that he was a psychic. Humans would believe anything, and what better lie was there than the truth? Maybe he should set up a fortune teller booth in Chinatown? No, that felt done already for some reason.
"Oh that's fine," he replied, "I'll do her star chart or something." He found a piece of fuzz on Dom's peck, and quickly snatched it away, pinching a bit of flesh as he did. "That's better," he said, showing the piece of fuzz to Dom. He made the same innocent expression he'd given Ash.
I'm sooooooo not up to anything, the look suggested.
-
The interplay with their legs had Dominic's eyes widening and his mouth dropping open ever so slightly. Wetting his lips with a nervous tongue, he did his best to accommodate the vampire, only to become even more tangled before they got everything straightened out. By then, his heart had started pumping a little faster as the thrill of contact whispered through him.
The drinks he'd ordered were placed on the bar before him and he shifted his hips to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, creating a little friction of his own as he leant forward to pay. His gaze returned to the doctor as soon as possible, his pupils slightly dilated once he'd looked down at his chest at where he was touched and then back up. A hand strayed to the firm spot, swiping idly across it as if he were relieving the sensation of being lightly burnt.
"I've wanted to talk to you for a while," he confessed, leaning closer and lowering his voice to a more intimate level. He knew he'd be heard by the man that mattered. "Ever since I saw you at the trial. Lazarus was my first and I've had a, uh, a bit of a problem with... you guys ever since. I can't say no, to any V-man, even if I want to! I was wondering... is it anything to do with Lazarus or am I just fucked up and weak? I kinda... I mean, the guy ruined my relationship, he raped my boyfriend and Ben and that Jake guy, so... why aren't I madder at him, y'know?" he frowned, truly flummoxed by his own subservience.
If Lazarus walked into the pool hall at that exact moment, Dom was pretty sure he'd go home with him and let him do anything he wanted to him. Was that addiction? Was it trauma? Or was he just being a fucking pathetic loser?
-
Without the added tension that came with being watched, Ash achieved a swift and smooth victory. Rather than rack the balls for a new game, she left Dom’s remaining as they were - if only to show she’d played fair. Though, if she had wanted to cheat, she supposed she could have just plucked up the last two with her hands and dropped them into a pocket.
While she waited, she stood near the window - breathing in as much fresh air as she could. She fished her phone from her jacket, which remained draped over the stool nearby, and fired off a couple of responding texts. Her mother, checking in on her; Adam, her best friend and ex, wishing her a goodnight. Further time was wasted bonding over fashion with a girl who’d come to compliment her clothes.
-
Jimmy listened, but was far less interested when he realized this was a professional consultation. This was such James work, and he debated fading out and letting his more prissy half take over. He wanted to play with the delicious looking man, not treat him. Still, the mention of Lazarus, and the awkwardness of the beauty before him, kept Jimmy engaged. He liked the extra friction created by Dom when he leaned over to pay, and let his lips get's dangerously close to the mortal's during the moment. He thought about Dom's question, knowing that bar-side consultations weren't the best way to do an assessment. An experiment on the other hand could produce interesting information.
"So you're saying you just can't say no to a man like me," he parroted back. "And you're wondering if it's Lazarus or you. One way to find out. Drink that whole drink for me and order another."
It was purely scientific experiment to see if he could say no or not. Jimmy hoped he couldn't say no at all. That made this whole evening so much more fun.
-
Dominic looked at Jimmy with a confused expression, uncertain how him chugging a fresh beer would give him any sort of insight into his weakness for vampires. Maybe the doctor was playing a trick on him or extorting some sort of fealty before he said anything? It wasn't like Dom was looking for an analysis on the spot, he'd more been broaching the topic of a future conversation in professional circumstances - one he'd pay for.
He blushed as he realised he definitely hadn't made that very clear. No wonder Jimmy was testing him; he thought this was some sort of gaslight to get him worked up or give his time for free. Dom always felt the same way whenever he got cornered into helping someone with their garden, because they knew someone he knew. That murky area of not being compensated for your professional time because of an acquaintance was always as uncomfortable as shit. He deeply regretted putting the doctor in that position.
"And look, I don't expect any answers right now, I get that you're not at work and all," Dom assured Jimmy, obediently grabbing his beer and emptying it down his throat in a few long swallows. He placed the empty bottle back on the bar and made eye contact with the distant barman, pointing at it and lifting a finger to signal he wanted another. His other hand came up to cover his mouth while he emitted a healthy burp. He turned back to Jimmy, feeling the effect of skolling the alcohol with a light headspin but persevering with his reassurance nevertheless. "Sorry if I didn't make that clear, and all. I was just hoping I might get your number or something, so I could book some time with you? If you have any openings, that is?"
The leg friction shuffle was played out again as Dom retrieved his wallet to pay for his new beer, his gaze earnestly centred on Jimmy's until he glanced over his shoulder and saw Ash standing looking at her phone. He turned back and smiled at the doctor, his dimples flashing. "I reckon you're up, too. Think she's finished me off. You coming?" he asked, sliding off his stool and collecting his drinks, belatedly realising he hadn't put enough thought into his actions when he found himself trapped in the lee of Jimmy's legs. His stool was pressed up against his ass, hemming him in until the doctor chose to move.
-
Jimmy's wide smirk became much more sinister as Dom did as he was told. There was no reason for him to drink that whole drink other than Jimmy had told him to do so. Even as he explained what he wanted he still complied. It would be one thing to do so out of simple obligation, but his acquiescence had seemed almost second nature. Jimmy had all the same training as James - although loathed to admit it - and decided that Dom probably could use James's help. He wondered if he could ruin Dom tonight and let James fix him down the line, or would a torrid hook up tonight mean no work for James tomorrow? He debated just grabbing the mortal and leaving the pool hall. It wasn't his job to fix broken humans with a vampire problem. Still, some small part of James was present, and his desire for immediate gratification was put off for now. He still had the other human to play with, and decided he wanted to play a fun game of pool while he further watched Dom.
"Take my number," Jimmy instructed, providing a cocktail napkin and bar pen. "I'm drunk as a skunk tonight, so you might have to remind me of some details come our first session, but yes... I think I can help you."
He made sure that the untangling process was lengthy and full of lots of leg rubbing. "Gosh, these stools are small," he excused, as he finally rose, turning to rest his bum close to Dom's crotch. He sauntered back towards Ash, hoping that Dom was watching him go. He saw the human on her phone. Humans loved phones these days. If they all didn't have masquerade breaking cameras they'd be lovely distractions. He approached the table and started racking the balls.
"Still up for a match," he asked, ignoring the business from earlier.
-
Dominic looked down at the napkin and pen, Ash's drink in one hand, his beer in the other and tried to figure out how he could pick the objects up and bring them with him to get the doctor's number. He got distracted when Jimmy stood up practically in his face, holding the drinks aloft so they didn't get bumped as the vampire tried to figure out how he was going to get out of a space mostly occupied by Dom's huge frame.
He blushed, feeling personally responsible for the awkwardness, even if Jimmy said he was drunk. He was pretty sure vampires couldn't get drunk and stay drunk for any length of time so he was obviously just being polite and trying to make Dom feel better about getting in the way. The ass pressed against his groin brought colour to his cheeks for a whole different reason and he stayed where he was to have a few deep breaths while the doctor finally extricated himself and sauntered away.
Dom looked at the pen and napkin again, his mind buzzing with the four beers he'd now consumed. "Fuckit," he muttered as he realised he didn't need the pen and paper. He sidled out from between the stools after Jimmy. He had his phone in his other back pocket, he'd just give it to Jimmy to put his number in contacts when he got a chance.
He circled around the table and walked up to Ash when he got there, handing her her drink with a silent smile. Not wishing to interrupt her conversation with a random woman that was standing with her or with Jimmy, he sat on the stool that she'd put her jacket on. He was angled towards the pool table but far enough away that he shouldn't interfere with anyone's shots. That said, he was now rather looking forward to watching the doctor bent over the table; from what he'd felt, the view would be tight and generously rounded.
-
Ash was all smiles by the time the pair had rejoined her, having self-soothed herself into a state of calm. “Sure am,” came her breezy response to Jimmy. She accepted the drink from Dom with a grateful inclination of her head, and gave focus back to the woman to thank her for the chat. After a bout of polite goodbyes, she pulled a generous mouthful from her drink, swallowed it down, and turned back toward the table. “... Your terms?” She queried.
-
"A gambler," Jimmy remarked, mocking surprise, and placing a hand on where his pearls would be. Jimmy loved a good wager, normally because he won them. Having supernatural sight helped out a lot at games, and being able to read people helped a lot at cards. He looked around the room, as if looking for something worthy of wagering. His eyes stopped on Dom. Ash had given him an idea.
"Well since Dom here is the loser of the last match, let's say whoever wins this one get's to go on a date with him. The loser loses nothing except the possibility of being escorted by such a fine looking bloke. If you don't want a date with Dom, I understand he's shared I'm a psychic. I'll answer three questions of your choosing... if you beat me."
Dom's permission was not sought, but Jimmy made sure to give big eyes and chose that exact moment to stretch, lifting up his shirt and revealing a small amount of smooth torso. His promise to answer three of Ash's questions was a rare treat indeed, and he wondered if she won how she'd use them. He pulled his shirt back down and returned his gaze to Ash. "Unless you'd rather play for money. That's what I normally do."
He grabbed a cue and and began to chalk. He was ready to play.
-
Aislin turned toward Dom with marginally lofted brows as their stakes were established; if they could even be called stakes. She found him attractive, sure, but she had no interest in dating him. She had no interest in dating anyone. The last thing she needed was to rely on another person in that way, like a crutch, when she wanted so badly to stand on her own.
The two gentlemen together, however… that was something she’d have liked to witness. They would make a truly sexy pair, she determined, and the thought served to coax forth a bloom of incriminating color across her cheeks. She could feel her face heat, and hoped neither of them would interpret the response as some girlish display of hope. Yikes. Times like these made her wish she weren’t so fair-skinned, so she might better conceal her embarrassments.
“Three questions will do,” she said, almost in a bid to exonerate herself - attention having returned to Jimmy. Had she not already convinced herself of his apparent psychic abilities, she’d have taken that offer as confirmation enough. Sweet, gullible Aislin. The truth was, she had no desire to know about her future; the notion frightened her. What if she didn’t like the answers? She’d rather remain unaware; it was safer. If she won, she’d waste her questioning on trivial matters.
She moved to reclaim her own cue, sipping again from her drink before stating, “You break.”
-
Dominic had interpreted Ash's questions as being about the rules Jimmy wanted to follow while they played. To suddenly hear talk of a wager - with him offered as some sort of reward - had his eyebrows lifting even higher than Ash's.
The thought of a date with Jimmy thrilled him far more than it should. He'd been so good, staying away from vampires for so long... but a ravenous part of him ached with desire to get close to temptation, perchance to be bitten. He suddenly wanted Jimmy to win, even though he'd been having a great time with Ash and he found her lovely. Of course, the good sport in him also wished her a victory and he was pleased that she chose to have three questions as her reward. He wouldn't be much good to her on a date, after all.
Dom sat silently, nibbling his lower lip thoughtfully, sipping his beer and fiddling with his phone (he'd set up a new contact under Dr. Jimmy Barrow and was just waiting for the man in question to pass by so he could give it to him to add his number) in between watching Jimmy. He had a new regard for him now. He wasn't just the doctor that might help him get some perspective on his life, he was Jimmy the vampire, pool player and potential date. It was going to be fucking hard to stay professional, if things went that way. He'd have to strive for restraint... and his track record was dismal in that regard.
-
When Ash asked him to break, Jimmy smiled like a fairy tale trickster - Rumpelstiltskin or a leprechaun. He sauntered over to the front of the table and leaned over slowly. With one eye closed, he used the inside of his thumb and index finger to measure out a good angle. The vampire took pool seriously. It had long been a way to meet bad men, and he loved beating those bad men in more than one way. Sticks and Stakes was family friendly by comparison to the pubs of Vauxhall. Condescendingly, he'd actually learned to play the game over the years, and now used it to pass the time. Even he needed a healthy habit or two, and considering what he'd been doing before arriving at the pool hall, this was down right moral.
A quick strike and Jimmy's shot was off, the cue ball hitting right between two balls and sending the spheres whizzing around the felt. Two solids and a stripe landed in various pockets. The remainder of the map wasn't as pretty, a few balls clumped together near the left bank. Jimmy eyed the map, and the results thus far and made an assessment.
"Looks like I'm solids," he said. The good doctor's follow up shot was not as successful, only serving to make the mish-mash of balls even more cramped. He saw a few ways inside, but all of them would have to wait until his next shot. He turned and winked at Dom, flashing a closed mouth smirk. He had to win. Dom was too good of a prize.
"Take it away Ash," he teased, pointing to the clusterfuck he'd made for her.
-
Ash exhaled a soft little wisp of laughter as she considered what she was left with. She couldn’t do much, could she? If she opted to break up the cluster, it would only serve to aid her opponent - and she wasn’t likely to sink any of her own in the process. She drank again from her glass, and walked casually over to the window to place it upon the sill.
Upon returning to the table, she made another show of contemplating her options - skirting its edge and examining all angles. The best she could do was nothing, so that was the avenue she took. She leant forward, and shot the cue-ball toward an uninhabited cushion with just enough force for it to bounce barely an inch away. Not a single colored ball was touched - leaving the clusterfuck still, effectively, clustered and fucked.
“Oh, no,” she relayed with a healthy measure of faux regret, words at variance with the spreading of a wide grin. “I missed.” At least she had nothing to lose; nothing to gain, really, either.
-
Jimmy laughed at Ash as she missed handing him back what he'd left her. He supposed it was only fair, but he'd been hoping she'd clean up his mess for him. Pity. Oh well; it was more fun this way. He patrolled along the table spinning his pool cue like a baton. It went in front, round the back and into the air, before landing neatly in his hands. He was mostly sober now, the half life of alcohol for vampires not being nearly long enough in his opinion. Jimmy did the little trick for nothing but his own amusement, and quickly scanned the table for what to do with this bastard of a board.
His shot ended up freeing a few of the balls, both stripes and solids, and the clusterfuck was still still a bit clustered but not nearly as fucked. Jimmy eyed a few open shots Ash might have, and thought it might be time to read her aura. He'd made sure to make his shot so that bum was clearly in view.
"Hope you don't miss again," he said sarcastically, assuming she wouldn't. He spun his cue again, although this time just a simple once around the back.
-
Dom snickered at Ash when she surrendered a penalty in favour of not helping Jimmy out, taking a sip of his beer in order to hide his amusement at her cheek. Luckily, Jimmy was just as easy-going and he shrugged the tactic off, spinning his cue like some sort of pool-playing ninja. Dom couldn't resist admiring him, even though those moves were pure sass. If the wood hadn't been swirling like a blade, he might've been game enough to approach with his phone and get the number he was increasingly more interested in getting. But it was, so he simply sat back and kept watching, greatly entertained.
-
Aislin found herself quite impressed with Jimmy’s cue-whirling stunt. She would never have been able to pull something like that off. If she could somehow manage to avoid flinging her cue in the process of an attempt, she’d most assuredly strike an innocent bystander instead; a combination of both outcomes seemed likeliest. Some trick that would be.
She cast a sweet smile toward Jimmy, one she’d practiced well in her years serving at the local diner back home. “Come on, now,” she implored, allowing a touch of humor to color her tone. “That would be outright sloppy.” She was having fun; it felt good to be socializing, and she resolved to not hermit away again.
Enough liquor had now run its course that her following performance was far more relaxed; less calculated than in her match with Dom. She allowed herself to be driven by impulse over deliberation, and it served her well in her first two shots. On her third, however - though she still managed to sink a tertiary stripe - the cue ball dove into the pocket in swift pursuit. With a wince, she stepped back. So much for avoiding sloppiness. “Ouch,” she said, in reflection of the sentiment. “I suppose you’ve got two shots, then.”
A soft bloom of muted pink, as a peony; enjoyment, laced with a small, remaining drop of nervous energy; a longing for success and acceptance, and the determination to achieve both.
-
Jimmy's eyes didn't change colors, or glow, or any other stereotypical feature of vampire power, but they did seem to twinkle, and cast a strong reflection of light. He stared intently at Ash as she made her shots, and learned some valuable information. His lips formed a sinister smile. Her aura came into focus, and as she was a human he gained much from a surface look.
A soft bloom of muted pink, as a peony; enjoyment, laced with a small, remaining drop of nervous energy; a longing for success and acceptance, and the determination to achieve both.
The old seers said an aura's color told the seer a great deal about the person it belonged too, and whole code books had been written on the subject, saying what colors meant what things. As Jimmy racked his memory for what pink meant, he moved to examine the board. She'd gotten two up on him, and he couldn't have that at all. He was losing now. As he took his first shot, sinking a solid ball that was near the right corner pocket, he remembered what the old books said about pink.
Compassionate
However, there was a muted quality to it. Was it a limited compassion? Was it muted due to her distrust of him from before? It made more questions than it answered. There was something cotton candy tasting about Ash, not that Jimmy actually knew what cotton candy tasted like, but he imagined this feeling of sugary sweetness was it. The most interesting part of the read was the longing feeling, the wanting to be accepted. There was determination yes, but beneath the layers Jimmy smelled something very human indeed; insecurity. He evened the score on his next shot, rather impressively jumping the white ball over a stripe and knocking two solids into a side pocket. It would've been a perfect play, except that his jump shot had caused the white ball to move with too much force, and he scratched.
"Fucking hell," he cursed at the white ball, smiling at Ash to let him know his frustration was with his own playing, and not with her. "Well I guess it's back to you now," he offered.
-
Ash returned Jimmy’s smile; he really wasn’t so bad. “I guess so,” she replied, moving to retrieve the white ball and place it back upon the felted table; having the advantage of choosing its placement secured her first shot. As she circled the table to consider her next, she decided it was too quiet. Not quiet in the sense that there weren’t any sounds - there was plenty of chatter and buzz around them - rather, she felt that they should be having some other form of exchange. More discussion beyond the repeated passing on of turns.
“You’re a doctor?” She supplied by way of conversation-starter. A brief glance was directed toward Dominic - both in indication of where she’d heard it, and a friendly reminder that she hadn’t forgotten he was there. Some kind of head doctor, he’d said. She couldn’t help but to puzzle over what that might entail, and whether or not his psychic abilities played any part in his work.
While she awaited his response, she leant down to make her next play. Her angle was just off, and she missed. Too bad.
-
Jimmy watched Ash continue to lead the game, and decided that wouldn't do at all. He scanned the board and determined a good shot existed near the left corner pocket. As Ash asked about James's profession, Jimmy sunk his first shot with ease. He looked up to meet her gaze, and turned his gaze to the sexy man keeping them company. Dom had chatted about him quite a bit it seemed. Well, how sweet. He looked grumpy at being referred to as a doctor. His wry smirk turned downwards, and he returned his eyes to the table as he answered.
"Sometimes," he answered rather cryptically. "Tonight I'm just Jimmy, but yes sometimes I'm Dr. James Barrow, clinical psychologist."
His tone mocked his professional name, and he said it in a fo-posh dialect, over the top and queenly. He landed another solid, and just like that he'd taken the lead. His smile returned.
"And you, what task do you exchange for money? Dom you too. What is it you do?"
-
The sarcastic lilt of Jimmy’s response did not go unnoticed by Aislin. It wasn’t uncommon for folks to dislike their jobs, and she imagined his to be pretty mentally taxing. She couldn’t fathom having to help someone else sort out their thoughts and issues; she had trouble enough doing that for herself. It was good, she decided, that Jimmy had made time for himself - and she resolved not to ask him about work again.
“I haven’t even started to look for a job yet,” she replied with an easy roll of her shoulders. “I’ve got decent enough chunk of change saved from working back home. It should last a few months, if I’m careful with it. I figure I’ll find a part-time position in the service industry once school starts, and use the free time I have now to get familiar with the city.” With a smile, she looked toward Dom for his answer.
-
Dominic was drinking when the question about his work was asked and he'd had enough now that it was definitely going to his head, making everything in the room a little shinier. Especially Jimmy. Ash answered first and he found he had to concentrate to process her words; the beer was making them quite slippery and muddly because she used so damn many of them to get her point across. She didn't have a job. She was living off her savings. Right. Risky. He didn't voice his opinion, he just answered for himself.
"I'm an owner operator of a landscaping business - All About Gardens," he told Jimmy, including Ash in his answer because it was very easy to slide his gaze her way. Outwardly, he knew he wouldn't appear drunk, no slurring of his words or physical stumbling but, inwardly, he was cresting that nice precipice where everything was starting to feel easy and liquid. The place where bad decisions became so easy to make. He smiled at them both, all dimples and relaxation, his left arm folded across his body with his hand tucked in his armpit, his right resting on it, holding his beer.
"I design, install, renovate, even do a bit of plumbing when called for. It's a lot of hard work, outdoors most of the time, very physical. But I'm great with my hands," he announced proudly, his eyebrows flickering as he looked slyly at Jimmy.
-
"How butch," Jimmy teased, giving Dom a smirk, and licking his lips for no apparent reason. He turned to Ash, digging her whole I'm trying to find myself vibe. It was very Stevie Nicks in a way, and he thought, who doesn't like Stevie Nicks? He walked up to her, flashing the same smirk he'd worn all night.
"What are your qualifications," he asked, his voice now that of a member of the British Parliament. After his two tongue and check replies, he felt sufficiently annoying, and moved back to the table and the game! They were getting down to the wire, and Jimmy went for one of his remaining solids. With a zing, it went into the pocket. His lead had grown, but he didn't put it away, scratching again on another failed trick shot. He cursed under his breath and switched sticks.
-
All About Gardens. Not the cleverest of names, but it got the point across well enough. Nevertheless, landscaping was an art - and Ash had a great appreciation for all things artistic. Politely, she adverted her gaze from the two men's brief little exchange of coquetry; twisting a small, humored smile. Jimmy would likely score a date, regardless of whether or not he won their match.
When he stopped in front of her, and asked about her qualifications, Aislin laughed. “I haven’t got many,” she admitted with a shrug. “I spent three years serving at a diner; I’m great with customers, am very good at balancing things on trays, and can make a mean milkshake. I’m also confident enough in my ability to draw that I aim to eventually make a career out of it.” She watched as he returned to the table, convinced that he’d finish it off. Her brows lofted after his second botched trick-shot. No way she’d have taken that risk on the eight, not with a win so close to guaranteed. There were three balls left on the table now; the eight, and her remaining two stripes. They were closer together than she’d have liked, but she could probably still end the game here, if she were careful. If she wanted. Did she want? Jimmy was smug - it would feel good to best him - but she also felt some weird inclination to act as wingman.
Her lips pursed thoughtfully as she stepped into position before the table. She lifted the little cube of chalk, recoating the tip of her cue in an act of tarrying. To try, or not to try? … Try, she finally decided - leaning forward, in time with a slow exhalation, to prepare for her first shot. There was no fun in letting someone else win. Besides, she somehow doubted he’d have willingly done the same for her.
It was only that initial shot that was difficult; finding a way to break apart those two without knocking in the eight before she was ready. Still - after further time spent in deliberation, and a few experimental thrusts of her cue - she managed. From there, it should have been easy. There were only two balls left on the table, and they were nowhere near one another. Any one of six pockets would do. Her second stripe was sunk without effort.
Rather than making a move toward her third, and final, shot - she straightened up, casting a cocksure grin toward her opponent. Again, her brows raised fractionally; a look that amply conveyed, hope you’re ready to lose.
-
"I love drawing! I draw all the time, too!" Dom blurted out to no-one in particular.
The tension of the game almost finishing was getting to him and he'd been holding onto the comment since Ash had mentioned she wanted to be a full-time artist - it was going around and around and around inside his head.
He hadn't wanted to interrupt her concentration but, since she'd paused, he couldn't hold it in any longer. Sighing with relief, he went back to drinking his beer and watching.
-
Jimmy looked cool and confident, and gave Ash a devilish grin. He leaned his hands down onto the table, twisting his head slightly to the side, and blinking rapidly. He suddenly stood up straight and raised his right index finger towards the eight ball.
"Here's a riddle," he posed. "As Dom told told you, I can see the future. I know who wins the game, and I know I get everything I want in the end. Who wins?"
He looked at Dom, and put his finger over his lips, whispering, "don't help her!"
-
Dom’s cute little outburst prompted a snort of laughter. Aislin’s smile remained, shaped more by humor now than overconfidence. With brows inquisitively lofted, she returned her focus to Jimmy as he presented his riddle. “This feels like a trick,” she said, thoughtfully narrowing her gaze and pursing her lips as she closed her hands over the tip of her cue; and perched her chin atop her knuckles thereafter. She wanted to say that she would win, but no - that seemed too obvious.
… “I suppose,” she began, slow and speculative, “That if you get everything you want in the end, regardless of whether or not I make this shot, you’re the winner.” She smiled anew, then asked, “Right?”
-
Jimmy smiled proudly, his riddle being a clever distraction from the game. He pointed to the eight ball and then her cue.
"Take your shot and find out," he threw back, smiling.
-
With a good-humored roll of her eyes, Ash lifted from her post and reaffirmed her grip on her cue. Little forethought was spared as she leant forward to take her final shot. She had this in the bag - or, so she thought, with only one ball remaining.
Perhaps it was greed - or just some good, old-fashioned enthusiasm - but too much force was used. Though the eight was successfully pocketed; so, too, was the cue ball. A foul.
… “Well, fuck,” she said as she rose. “I guess you really did win.” The words were punctuated with a breezy little laugh.
-
Jimmy bowed respectfully at his opponent, but his sinister grin let both of the humans near him know that he was pleased. He hadn't seen anything about the future in regards to the game. He never had known who would win or why. All he'd wanted was to make Ash doubt herself in the exact moment when she needed to be most in control, and her scratch at the end had proven he'd done just enough. He considered she might've missed regardless, but now the vision and result fit neatly together. He patted himself on the metaphorical back.
"Good game. You solved the riddle," he offered, before heading over to Dom and, without permission, sat on his lap, wrapping his legs with the gardener's and looking into his big eyes.
"Guess that means you owe me a date," he said, his tone playful, seductive, and with just a touch of dominance. He turned his body towards Ash, keeping his bum clearly pressed on Dom's lap. He wasn't quite done with this one yet.
"However, don't say I'm not a good sport! I will still give you three questions! Use them wisely," he offered. She could refuse him of course, but what fun was there in that? Besides, humans were a curious bunch.
-
Dominic had found the intrigue of the game's conclusion riveting - to the point where he'd finished his beer, put the empty bottle aside and begun gnawing on his thumbnail, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two opponents facing off in front of him. Ash's disappointing snatch of defeat from the arms of victory had him laughing, starting to cheer and then giving a heartfelt, "Ohhhhh!" in the space of a breath.
He was sharing a consolation pout with her when he scored a new vampire lap decoration, much to his surprise. He grinned and exhaled a breathy laugh when told he owed Jimmy a date. The tone it was delivered in meant that he didn't consider arguing, he simply settled his hands on Jimmy's hips in order to better secure him in his lap. Dom also swallowed when the vampire squirmed around into a different position, debating whether he knew about the pressure his fine English ass was putting on his cock.
If he didn't, he was going to know very soon, if he kept moving around the way he was. Dom didn't know of actual psychic vampire powers - he'd only made up his lie to cover up the fact that a complete stranger might be able to read things from Ash's mind - so he was rather confused by the offer of three questions. He wouldn't say anything, though. He was too busy trying to think of anything but how nice it would be if Jimmy turned, straddled him and sucked on his neck while Dom fucked him.
Don't think about that. Think about something else!
But what?
Anything!
He whimpered a little as Jimmy shifted again, hanging onto him grimly.
-
Ash strode toward the wall, lifting her cue up to return it to the rack. Her brows rose marginally as Jimmy offered to answer three questions in spite of her loss. Well, that was nice. She still didn’t want them - but it was nice, all the same. She reclaimed her drink from the windowsill, now watered down with molten ice, and moved to lean against the game-table and sip from it thoughtfully. It would be rude, she reasoned, to decline when he was being so charitable... “I can ask anything?” She finally inquired - wondering, in part, if he’d count that question against her three.
Her focus remained studiously on Jimmy’s face; unable to help the feeling that she was bearing witness to something that should have been kept private. Not that she was judging! It was her own awkwardness that made it any bit uncomfortable. Thankfully, the din of the pool hall spared her from having to acknowledge Dom’s tiny whimper.
-
Jimmy laughed brightly, and his eyes seemed to twinkle like they'd been hit directly with the sun. He changed somewhat as he massaged Dom's crotch with his rear, more than pleased with what he felt stirring beneath him. His whole demeanor relaxed and he stared at Ash intently, like he was looking into something just past her eyes. After a few moments he blinked, and then drew his head back. He whispered so soft that not even Dom could make out the exact words. He seemed to get a reply nodding his head with fervor.
"Anything can be asked, but not all things can be found," he said in an almost sing-song style of speaking. "When one doesn't already know the questions to ask it's normally fear of the unknown, or a lack of vision. I see a path for you that lacks direction, full of unknown purpose, and the danger of moving from one experience to the next, without investment or substance. To be a player in other people's stories is to lack a meaning of your own, and without meaning, well.... perhaps that's enough for one question."
While he was calm and still in a good mood, this was the most serious he'd seemed all night. There was a level of focus that was knew, despite the cryptic nature of his vision and advice.
-
Ash blinked back her surprise as she caught the mystifying glimmer in Jimmy’s gaze. When he spoke, she was further stunned into silence. Her lips were the only part of her that moved - shaping a soft little ‘o’ as alarm set further in with each additional remark. She hadn’t been ready! She hadn’t even really asked anything! And what the fuck had that murmuring been? She couldn’t hear it, but it looked like he had been saying something. Was he communing with spirits to get his answers? The fact that he’d gone from cheeky to near-solemn, too, only stoked her anxiety all the more.
It felt like a long time before she spoke next. Her lower lip curved inward to meet the tip of her tongue in a show of nerves, before she finally queried, “How do you predict a person’s future?” She took a moment to pray that he wouldn’t somehow turn that back around onto her. If his first answer had been any indication as to how this might pan, he wouldn’t require much to prophesize her course without prompting. Maybe he would do it to fuck with her. She didn't know him well, but she wouldn't put it past him.
-
This time Jimmy didn't whisper, but he did look like he was listening, and his eyes never left Ash. He changed a little more, his expression less expressive, his tone becoming less theatric. He smiled, a lazy, content grin, blinking for the first time in what felt like minutes.
"Oh a variety of ways," he began. "Sometimes the best way to see one's future is to look into their past. For example, I see the Adam to your Eve both in the past and in the future." He grew excited for a moment. "Oh my goodness. Is he your meaning? Oh wait, I'm not the one who's supposed to be asking questions."
He laughed hoarsely.
-
Aislin widened her eyes, then let out a nervous trill of laughter. “God, that’s creepy,” she said - unsettled, but still in good humor. It didn’t matter to her that she was the one meant to be doing the asking; she still felt pressed to answer. With a shake of her head, she explained, “No. I thought he was once, but I know now that’s not the case. We’re too different; we want very different things for our lives.” There was a long pause, followed by, “... Will he be happy?” Last question.
-
Jimmy seemed to get philosophical at Ash's last query, placing fingers on his chin and looking up towards the heavens.
"Ding," He said, like an oven who's cookies were ready. He looked at Ash sadly and answered as best as the voices allowed him. "Happiness is such a fleeting feeling. Most people are lucky to really feel it once or twice in their lives. Will he have a moment of it? I see one or two, but I see a great deal more if he'd ended with you."
He looked sad, and for a second Ash would see Jimmy's face hold one of Adam's expressions perfectly. While Jimmy looked like Jimmy, Adam looked at Ash. After a moment, the fortune teller's face returned to look like himself. He regarded Ash, like she'd just missed her last shot. "Lovely meeting you, and thanks again for the game." He smiled oh so sweetly.
-
That had been the wrong question to ask. With Adam staring out at her through Jimmy’s eyes, Ash was utterly crestfallen. Her heart suddenly lived in her throat, threatening to suffocate; and no matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t swallow it down.
She dipped her head to acknowledge his cordial words, too devastated to say anything beyond, “You’re on my jacket.” Helplessly, she gestured toward the stool on which they both sat; overwhelmed with the sudden need to leave.
-
Ash's distress got Dom moving. Thankfully, Jimmy's odd predictions had stopped him squirming around in Dom's lap, so he wasn't completely humiliated as he surged to his feet, lifting Jimmy with him like he weighed nothing (he wasn't exactly a feather but Dom lifted using his legs, and Jimmy was well balanced).
Depositing his passenger on his feet, Dom turned to collect Ash's jacket and held it out to her. "Are you okay? You don't have to go," he said lamely but her expression (which he hadn't seen clearly from his position behind Jimmy) said that she did. "Look!" he said as a way of delaying her, withdrawing her jacket before she could take it and turning to grab his phone as well. He navigated out of the contact screen he'd set up for Jimmy and madly added a new contact, holding his phone towards her, along with her jacket.
"Put your number in my phone. I'll text you so you have my number and then, if you need anything - anything at all! - you can contact me and I'll see if I can help you out. Cool?" he encouraged. He had no idea if she'd find the offer creepy but she looked so sad and the thought of her heading out into the night, ignorant to everything lurking in it and completely alone in the city, made him want to protect her, if he could. At the very least, she might need some furniture moved or something and he could definitely be of assistance then.
-
Ash provided no response to Dom’s inquiry. In that moment, she wasn’t okay. She should have been, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t her responsibility to ensure Adam’s happiness; and she had tried to get him to come with her, only for him to stubbornly dig in his heels. She’d proven just as willful - determined to live her life for her, and only her - and so, she went. It was amicable. Why did she feel at fault?
... She could have handled the words on their own. It had been that expression that Jimmy wore; Adam's beseeching with another man's face. That look would haunt her, most like.
Her fingers closed, grasping weakly at air as Dom withdrew her jacket before she could claim it. When it was offered the second time, along with his phone, she took both with a bit more force than was necessary. Her anxiety was peaking; all she wanted to do was cocoon herself in the warmth of her bed, and drown her guilt in soothing music. Still, she entered her details - naming the contact, ‘Aislin (Ash) Delaney,’ and even going so far as to add a little note that read, ‘Sticks & Stakes’. With a forced smile, she passed Dom’s phone back to him.
“Thanks,” she said, “I had fun.” Not a lie, even if she didn’t feel it in the moment. She did appreciate his offer of help. After offering a parting wave to Jimmy, she turned and left - leaving her unfinished drink on the bar along the way. She sat in her car for a long while, head bowed over arms folded atop her steering-wheel. To anyone passing by, it would look like a drunken siesta.
When she felt she was no longer at risk of coughing up any vital organs, she drove home.
-
When Ash asked for her coat, Jimmy jumped in time with Dom's moves.He'd been hoping for a bit more stiffness near his rear, but understood delivering predictions was hardly hot. He managed a quick, "oh, pardon me," before stepping aside. He found it curious Dom wanted this other human's contact information. Weren't they done with her? She was nice and all, but it was Dom Jimmy was after. Still, he'd had good fun reading her aura and future. If she wasn't aware this city was strange before she was now. He'd done her a favor. He snickered internally.
"Bye," he managed as she practically ran from the pool hall. The moon child turned to Dom once she was gone, "was it something I said?"
He snickered externally this time, placing his hands on the gardenr's chest and moving in close enough to embrace.
-
As Ash hurried out of the pool hall, Dom texted her, like he'd promised he would.
This is Dominic Kaho's number. Sticks and Stakes. Let me know if you have any trouble settling in :smile:
He barely got the message sent before his personal space was invaded by a very cocky
sexy as Hell
vampire. He slipped his phone into his back pocket with one hand while the other automatically wound around Jimmy's waist, his hand splayed across the small of his back and pressing him close. Once his phone was secured, Dom's other hand landed on Jimmy's hip. His gaze flicked over the shorter man's head, trying to gauge how much attention they were getting. When he determined it was next to none, he looked back into Jimmy's mossy peepers and smiled tentatively.
"You're exactly the kind of trouble I was hoping you'd help me learn to avoid," he murmured, finding it impossible to resist Jimmy's pull. His hands were filled with firm, cool vampire, his dick was still twitching in his pants, eager to push out and rub against a man he knew he was better off walking away from - right now - and he was juuust inebriated enough to not give a shit about any of that. His heart was pumping faster at the thought of being bitten and fucked and it was very difficult to think past it. "Where are we going?" he prompted, his dimples appearing as his grin widened.
He wanted to kiss those firm, pouty lips badly but he was holding himself in check. Just.
-
Jimmy smiled proudly at being called trouble. It was a great compliment, and he rewarded his companion by cupping his crotch in his hand, a light massage being worked through his fingers. They were mostly hidden from view, and Jimmy decided anyone who got close enough would become very confused. He wanted to rile Dom up. He wanted him to be afraid of getting caught. He wanted him hard, and he wanted him to feel it all more than normal. Jimmy let his own passion pass through to Dom; a mix of hunger, horny feelings, and the smugness from his trial with Ash. He leaned in to kiss his new toy, and whispered into his ear.
"Well if I can't just drag you into the bathroom, or your car, we could always go back to my place."
Jimmy hoped he'd get to bite Dom in the bathroom. The danger made it hot.
-
Dom felt like he was drowning and Jimmy was both the water trying to drag him under and the lifeline that would set him free. His hand instinctively followed Jimmy’s to his crotch, resting on the back of it and trying to process that peculiar sensation of a vampire’s malleable-stone touch as it brought his dick back to life. His clothes were an uncomfortable barrier, dulling the sensations he wanted direct contact for but this was neither the time nor the place. The intent was there, however, and his dick hardened, thirsty for more, betterfaster, tightersqueezingandpulsing.
He took a breath, looking furtively past Jimmy’s face, feeling like they were being stared at, that someone would say something and they’d get caught. He usually wasn’t one for public displays but his head was a maelstrom tonight and all he could think about was how powerful Jimmy was, what it’d be like for him to sink his fangs into him while he fucked him, how hard he’d cum. If he bit him now, Dom knew he’d likely strip and spread his ass, splayed across the pool table, onlookers be damned and he despaired at that weakness in himself. It was getting worse! He felt like he was losing his mind in a whirlpool of desire, lust and hunger taking chunks out of his rational mind and leaving him a hot, quivering pile of need.
“Your place,” he whimpered, staring at Jimmy’s lips. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage to walk out of this pool hall, let alone get there but he knew he needed to find a way. He gripped Jimmy’s hand, working up the courage to pull it away from his throbbing crotch long enough for some blood to get to his head and allow him to think. “Definitely your place. Is it far?”
-
It was to be a home visit, and Jimmy pulled away with a sexual cruelty, deigning Dom access to his flesh. His expression was a teasing one, and he let his pretty eyes linger on Dom's now very errect rod. It didn't take second sight to see that Dom would be a handful. Jimmy wryly smirked once more, and motioned for Dom to follow with a subtle movement of his eyes and neck. It somehow said, follow me human, even if a syllable was never uttered. Jimmy delighted in the control. It made his nipples hard, and his body felt electric as he imagined Dom presenting his neck, his ass, and whatever else Jimmy required of him.
What did old Grousedark call them; mortals so eager to please they're not even human? Blood Dolls?
Jimmy's sire appeared beside him for a moment. He was a tall older fellow with a large top hat and a set of gentleman's clothes. Coat, waistcoat, shirt, trousers, winged tipped shoes and a jeweled walking stick adorned an older looking fellow, his expression the same wry smirk Jimmy had worn all night. If Dom was looking he'd see Jimmy's had face turned to one of displeasure and the vampire was looking at seemingly nothing.
"Indeed I did, James," the phantom whispered. "Although that's such a vulgar term. Don't you agree?
Jimmy blinked hie eyes, and then the visage was gone. A bit of the pool hustler's edge was replaced by something more anxious and he allowed Dom to touch his body once more. He knew Dom hadn't seen the image. Nobody else ever did. He just ignored the ghost now. A full five seconds after Dom asked him, Jimmy realized he hadn't answered.
"Oh, ugh no. Not far at all. It's a nice flat. You'll see."
He sounded shaky at first, but quickly regained his silver tongue. He wasn't going to let a hallucination ruin his night. He led Dom from the pool hall, Ash nothing but a sound bite in his memory. He wouldn't even remember her once James reemerged. It always happened that way.
/End