Talking About the Weather (RP)

Emma ran a perfectly manicured finger across the rows of books, finally coming to a rest on a rare, finely bound edition of the ‘The House of Fame’. Out of sheer curiosity, she pulled the book out and flipped through the crisp pages. It confirmed what she suspected all along; the book has never been opened, just like any of the others in the Vampire’s library. Elliot didn’t read. The library which spanned an entire room was nothing but a status symbol, a thin veneer of sophistication. He wanted her to include his character in one of her novels, but no doubt, her own book would one day end up on one of these shelves, left to collect dust, never opened nor read.

Vanity.

Just like his library, she, too, was there to stroke the Vampire’s ego.

The book went back to its cleft, and Emma turned to face the Vampire so she can give him her full attention.
"Come on, darling" a playful, teasing smile crossed her face. She closed the distance between the two, stopping within less than an arm’s reach from him "You know I have to get to know you better first. We don’t want your friends to mistake our protagonist for any other dashingly handsome, powerful vampire. I need just enough details so they can recognize you in those pages"

She decided against brushing her hand over the lapel of his jacket. A little bit of banter was fine, but if she provoked him too much, she would find herself dizzy and gasping for air on the living room’s couch. Which is why she dressed casually for their meeting today; a pair of jeans, a buttoned-up blue blouse and a tailored white blazer. Nothing too enticing about her appearance, except the blood coursing through her veins.

Emma didn’t mind having an audience to their meeting, but she did wonder why he felt the need to keep his lackeys in the room. It’s not like they were contributing anything to the conversation, or that they were there to protect his person from a mere mortal. If she had to wager a guess, they were there because they made Elliot feel important. They were his entourage, a group of courtiers circling their medieval king. And it was to make Emma feel small and insignificant in comparison. He could dismiss her at any time and go back to his ‘business’ without losing a second out of his day.

She wasn’t disturbed by their presence, at any rate.

"Unfortunately, I still have a day job. Got to make rent"

It wasn’t a mere excuse, but the real reason she couldn’t dedicate herself fully to her book. One of the reasons, at any rate. She wasn’t Elliot’s biographer. She was trying to tell a story, and she hasn’t found one yet. The Vampire lord wasn’t even such a good character, except maybe as a foil to the real protagonist. She didn’t expect a cold-hearted Vampire to have any meaningful or engaging character arc. Maybe if she did dig a little bit deeper, she could find the real story. Conflict. Drama. Something to sink her teeth into.

"Why don’t you tell me about your greatest triumphs? Something to impress our readers with?"

She took out her notepad from her purse, and her biro, giving Elliot a short soft nod of her head for him to go ahead. He WAS a vain vampire, wasn’t he? It shouldn’t be too difficult to get him talking about himself.

"That is very impressive" she feigned admiration at his accomplishment. There are mortal men that managed to accumulate greater wealth, in a shorter time period, without the benefits of vampiric powers. She wasn't awed, but that didn't meant she wasn't respectful. He was clearly exceedingly dangerous - not because of his vast wealth and influence, but because of his swollen ego. The way he talked about those other vampires, all the focus on his achievements and the laughing chorus of his toadies, - it all suggested that he was the sort of man (or vampire) that wouldn't tolerate a slight to his person. An insult, even a suspected one, could be met with extreme violence. His ego was as fragile as it was big. A dangerous combination, and Emma reminded herself once again that she had to tread very very carefully around such men.

She lifted her eyes from her notebook and smiled warmly at him, before asking her follow-up questions. The topic that most intrigued her were those 'ancient ones' he mentioned, the ones centuries old. Those were possibly even more dangerous than Elliot, because they had no reason or desire to associate with humans. Still, they intrigued her greatly. If she could somehow arrange a meeting with one of them, at a safe location...

It was something she would have to ponder some other night. She had to keep her focus on the Vampire standing in front of her. Talk about him, and him alone. She figured he wouldn't be happy if she steered the conversation to any other topic other than himself.
"- and there are older vampires living above ground too, who never managed to accumulate such power. Am I right?" she paid him a compliment, before segueing to her real question: "How does it work? Do they come to you asking for favors? Do they have to ask for your permission to stay in London? In England?" she knew next to nothing about Vampire society, and how they organize themselves. Any tidbit of information could prove to be very interesting.

"What the...". Not sure what the problem is, Jacob starts to slow down, but then he sees the thug standing near Benji's place and resumes driving at normal speed. Careful not to speed up too much to attract his attention, Jacob turns the corner to park.

"Who's that? You weren't expecting company, were you?" he asks Benji.

So Elliot's power extended no further than the city of London, if she could take his word for it. Considering his arrogance, she could safely assume he would exaggerate about the extent of his reach, rather than play it down.

She had the answer to her question. A part of it, at any rate.

His casual mention of her remote hometown brought a smile to her lips, not because she found it amusing, but as a way to subtly push back and assert herself in the face of his challenge. The conversation was growing a little bit stale as it was; she might as well stir up the hornet's nest a little. If she wanted to play it safe, she would have stayed home with David in front of the TV.

"OK" she flipped her small notebook shut and placed it back in her purse. Now her attention was fully on him, locking her blue eyes with his "But can you tell me something about myself that you couldn't find on my bio page at the Independent, or by having your goons shadow me during the day? A real secret??"
She was testing him. Did he have any profound knowledge about her, or was he nothing but a stage magician trying to impress her with cheap tricks? Would he play along, or would he retreat back into his fortress while claiming this game was 'beneath him'? Would he be amused? Angry? Whatever his reaction would be, she would discern something about his nature. Hopefully, she wouldn't pay for that knowledge with blood.

The tension in the room was palpable, an eerie kind of silence - just like the one before the jump scare in a horror movie. Exactly like it, as a matter of fact. The Vampire went still, and suddenly, he no longer looked like the breathing, living human being he pretended to be, but like a cadaver. Cold and lifeless, bereft of any emotion or compassion. How could she reason with such a creature? What could she offer it in return for her life?

Should she grovel at his feet? Elliot didn't want for sycophants. The group of toadies that surrounded him were sucked dry of their personality, empty husks that followed him around and echoed his every word. Would he kill her if she kowtowed to him, because then she would add nothing he didn't already have to his life? Or maybe the evidence was right in front of her eyes - that being his lackey was the only way to stay alive?

It didn't take her very long to make her decision. Dead and brain-dead were one and the same, so she might as well take a gamble and show a little moxie, than bend over backwards and sacrifice her identity at the altar of his ego voluntarily.

"Come on; I'm here because you wanted to talk with an actual person, remember?" she tossed her wavey hair around her shoulder, lowering her head ever so slightly before hinting with her eyes at their audience "Maybe we should conclude this conversation in private?" she wasn't any safer with his servants around. Less safe, as a matter of fact, because his ego wouldn't allow him to lose face in front of them, even if they were not much more than sock-puppets at this point. That he might construe her words as a salacious invitation was something for future Emma to worry about. She had to diffuse this ticking timebomb first, then figure out how to climb out of the hole she dug for herself.

Emma was relieved to see his minions dismissed. If he was so certain he wanted to kill her, he wouldn't have bothered waiting for them to leave the room, only to call them back immediately after to clean up the mess. But she was not out of the woods quite yet. The Vampire was still standing there without moving, looking at her expectedly. It reminded her of that story she read in her youth. About the clever daughter of a vizier who survived for a thousand and one nights by telling her murderous husband a story each evening, leaving out the ending incomplete so he would have no choice but to keep her alive for another day, if he wanted to know how the tale ends.

She didn’t think she could just sit next to him and read him a bedtime story. But maybe she could find some other way to hold his interest, remind him there is still some value to keeping her alive

"Do you know why I am here?" she turned her head from him to look at the rows of books on his library, of all things, her soft voice growing fainter as she went on telling him something personal about herself. Not a secret, but intimate nonetheless "It’s because I’ve seen how life turns out for most people. That dreary routine. Working for a salary. Doing the same thing over and over and over again, day in and day out. Drag yourself out of bed and slip into the monotony of another workday. The tasks become familiar – almost too familiar. You go to work. Pay your bills. The days blur together into a haze of gray, filled with repetitive chores and fleeing distractions" she paused for a moment, lost in her reverie, before turning to look at him once more.

"And then you find yourself pushing a shopping cart down the aisle of the supermarket when you’re forty, wondering what happened to the little girl who sat under the cover of the bedsheets and flipped through the pages of her books, dreaming of adventure. Of doing something strange, and unknown, " she smiled wistfully at the Vampire "maybe something a little bit risky"

She stopped short of asking him if he knew what she meant, leaving it for him to infer, if he was smart enough, or else leave the subtle metaphor for his own existence hanging at the back of his head; that winning his throne was so much more exciting than sitting on it. And that the woman standing in front of him was an intriguing oddity that broke the mold of his predictable routine, and that it was worth keeping her alive for a little while longer – at least until her novelty wore off.

"I see. Yes, probably the fewer people that know about Lizabeth and her findings, the better," Jacob agrees. He is aware of Elliot Parry; after all, he is one of the most prominent vampire figures in London. However, the nature of Benji's relationship with him is unclear to Jacob. He has always perceived Benji as a "free soul," seemingly indifferent to the city's supernatural politics.

"Do you want me to accompany you to meet Mr. Parry?" he offers.

This was no longer merely about leaving his penthouse alive. She didn't step into the Vampire's lair just to leave empty handed. She wanted more. His wealth, his influence, his experience about the supernatural world, and likely even the surge of adrenaline she experienced at the presence of a predator, are the things that drew her to him. She just needed to convince him to share a little.

She was playing a very dangerous game, with potential terrible consequences for more than just herself. But right now, she didn't care. She only saw what she stood to gain from having the vampire lord thirst for more than just her blood. All she needed to do was give the him a little nudge in the right direction. His silence spoke volumes. He WAS listening, which meant she couldn't be far off the mark "Don't tell me you've never felt like that" her voice was smooth and velvety, drawing him in just as much as her tantalizing words "that you didn't wake up some nights and wanted to throw caution to the wind. Do something different, and dammed be the consequences?"