Another night in the city of angels

The city of Las Angeles was one he had been getting used to. His kind has spread around a world larger than he could have ever dreamed, feeding off of humanity while the species thought them nothing more than a story. Bringing them to heel was something that didn’t take too long. His own power enough to bring most of the elders under control, set to sections of the country and making sure that the young ones didn’t drink too much. That they didn’t reveal the truth of their kind and bring humanity with their full terrible might against them. Times had changed, so it only made sense he changed with them. Thinking on it now was enough to make him chuckle, though the bartender only gave him a curious quirk of the brow before returning to her duty. Such a fastidious woman.

Being immortal had its own perks. Aside from a few changes he was no different than he was thousands of years ago. Tall, strong looking and with hair that was cut nightly to fit with a more modern style. More often than not he found himself the object of attention from humans, mortals unable to turn their attention from something that had been refined and improved by The Blood. Here in one of the many bars he owned it was no different, though he found few really knew him as the owner. It lead to less people trying to get some manner of free drink if they knew. Only the immortals tended to know really, and his employees because someone had to pay them. Otherwise what was the point of hiring them?

Osiris sighed, looking down to the deep red drink swirling in his hand. A bloody mary, well literally bloody though he kept that small fact even from the bartender who had to be mesmerized to keep from raising a fuss. A preference Adam had introduced to him, and the small joke simply stuck.  Sipping away he let the flow of the bars music flow through the room and over him. What was it? He hadn’t heard the song before, yet could see some of the patrons doing ever so subtle sways to the music.  Being around mortals was just something that he enjoyed. They were full of a life he had been robbed of a long time ago.

A few eyes he could feel lingering on him. At times mortals even approached him, the same idea within their minds. With a soft hum, he returned to his drink and let the night flow as it did. He was dressed in casual fashion with stone washed jeans tucked into boots, and a white t-shirt with an open jacket over it.

She giggle-snorted to herself, one of her military buddies clinging onto her, face smashed into Elaine's own breast screeching aloud.

"Come on Jen, you can't leave the story half told...

Elaine said, giggling to herself, curious to hear how the end of her one-night stand went.

'Well, alright now don't go pulling rank on me Lieutenant, I'm getting there...'

The soldier said, winking at Elaine as she knew Elaine wasn't like that. She was too easy to tease sometimes.

'So, he's like yeah... If you don't mind my Mom actually doesn't like it when we uses the upstairs bathroom, so I just use the mobile bucket.'

The group of six broke out laughing again, Elaine included.

'Horseshit, Jennifer'

Another spoke, to which the storyteller quipped immediately;

"May God strike me dead, if I'm lying. One of those yellow buckets you mop in...

Elaine shook her head in disbelief. "You use it?"

Jennifer deadpanned to her, the table going quiet as the question was posed. Jennifer blushed, holding her fingers about eight inches apart.

All of the girls loosed a simultaneous growl before she could even finish her statement.

"You're god damned right I used the bucket, hey you know what f*** you b*******, I got what I needed last night."

"Yeah, everything except the toilet...."

Again they broke out laughing, causing Elaine to simply shake her head and down the rest of her Heineken. Her sixth for the night, and yet she waved the bartender for another one. Though they didn't notice, so Elaine, being a rather selfless individual would move to the bar, getting her drink herself. Elaine was dressed in a manner that suggested military service. An official NAVY T-shirt, tucked into blue fatigues, her pant cuffs curled, jammed into long socks, with black boots that looked like she had spit shined them moments before the club. Her hair was immaculate, done into a simple pony tail. The scent of deodorant, and a hard ways work may not have been obvious to others but a creature of the night could smell it with ease.

She would stand at the bar, right next to Osiris, able to get the tenders attention now. "Hey, sorry can I get six Heineken's, for that table over there?" She said aloud, turning, and revealing her neck to the Vampire, unwittingly. After all, to her she was just another bar patron.

Nights like these were slow affairs. Ones where he found himself sitting, only occasionally drawing attention from the mortals or even rarer immortals around him.  It wasn’t often they drew his attention, ephemeral as they were with lives that didn’t often interest him. The few times his whims drew that attention were times he followed through on. Blood thinned with liquor tended to make the hunger even stronger. So he found himself considering the idea of setting out, roaming the city until the sun came up. That being until he caught a scent.

It was blood of course. Modern deodorant scent rife with chemical, beer and another scent he couldn’t quite name right now. Enough to turn his eyes towards the source. A neck with the head turned away from him, pulsing and vital with blood flowing beneath the skin. The modern ages soldier if the clothes were anything to believe. Likely coming to a bar like this to relax, akin to how many used taverns and inns of old.

Even at his age he could feel that beast of old roiling within him. He hadn’t fed meaningfully for a while, leading to the voice at the back of his mind speaking much louder than usual.  Blood coming closer and closer to that of a sirens voice, though now he could resist the hunger that came with it. Despite all the control he had over himself, there was no helping the curiosity. An irritating motivator that was followed by him downing the drink in a single gulp, feeling the zing of blood go all the way down. Not enough to even dampen the fire.

”One of those Heinekens,” The bartender eyed him curiously.

“Drinking an actual drink for a change?” he seemed to chuckle at the concept.

”I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Despite that he snatched up the bottle, trying to figure out what he was doing himself. The millenia had led him to become a person of whims even he didn’t understand. ”so stop looking at me like that and get back to work,” His response was a little catty, but he could hear the mans thoughts.  Little insinuating things, somewhat insulting towards him and towards the woman.

”This might be a little cliché but come here often? I’m not too good at talking to pretty women,” He smiled, flashing white teeth.

She was a very attentive individual, and heard everything from the word 'one', to the word 'women'. She had been glancing to him throughout, but finally focused on the man when he full on engaged her in discourse. He was a regular, she ascertained that much information from the conversation between him and the bartender. Versus her, a habitual bar-hopper. Normally she would've blown it off, but tonight she was manhunter for a different reason.

"Ah... Be right back."

She said, taking the tray of drinks back to her group, and dispersing them... After she did this, she took one of the Heinekens, then raised her eyebrows briefly.

Be right back, ladies..

She said, ignoring the snarky comments, and low whoops coming from them. As such, she sauntered back over to the man, walking past him, and putting her group between him and herself (With purpose, though he likely wouldn't know why).

No, I don't come here often... I'm on leave, I'm military, all of us are. My name's Elaine... Well, in my official capacity, I'm Lieutenant Elaine Sierra Wolff. What's your name stranger?"

She asked him, taking a deep swing out of her... Was this seventh Heineken? She was only getting a light buzz so far. She would've needed to drink maybe twenty or so before the word drunk became a thing...