[Erilyaer]

Erilyaer gazed up at the balcony before her, sighing. The graffiti on it left her furious; she had read the play Romeo and Juliet from and early age of 10. Shakespeare's literature left her asking for more- only it would help if he was alive. Tragedies were her favourites; they kept her eyes fixed onto them as if she were watching for blood.

That was the thing about Erilyaer. Unlike most vampires, she adored the metallic taste of blood. Sometimes she craved it, though she had to ignore it; she didn't want to turn rogue. That would lead to trouble.

She slunk around the shadows, clinging to the ivy and climbing up 4 meters panting, stepping onto a platform that was 2 meters wide and 2 meters in length. She sat down, swinging her legs continuously and enjoying her own company. Just me, myself and I, she thought, grinning as she saw no one around.

Then she realised she'd like a guy to talk to, not because she was desperate and wanted love but because she was sick of girls at the moment. But she wouldn't mind talking to anyone, not in the least.

[Ilire]

Ilire had been walking down the streets when a gilded balcony slathered in illegible words caught his eyes. How elegant. There was also the matter of, of course, the peculiar striped stockings hanging off the side. He did a quick double take and took a few steps back; it was the little girl who had stormed out of the salon earlier. She looked terribly young to be out by herself. Oh the indecency of it all.

As much as Ilire detested teenagers (nevermind that he was one), it didn't feel right leaving her alone. She reminded him briefly of his own sibling.

He glanced warily at the ivy, then forgot them in favor of a few elongated bricks that formed a barely visible, narrow set of stairs that led up to the balcony. Even at eighteen years old, Ilire was impossibly slim and lacked almost all muscles necessary but for the most trivial of tasks. A sharp exhale as he reached the top.

He sat down next to the sharp-toothed teen and asked in an exasperated manner,

"So what's a little girl like you hanging out by a balcony for?"

[Chris]

Chris had been sitting in an dark ally, drowning down her last vial of blood. With the shortage at the bank, she could only pray that more people would donate blood soon. The vampires were already surrounded by tension because they were in the human sanctuary, and the shortage wasn't helping with the temptation.

Having finished the vial, she put it next to her and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She placed her chin on the top of her knees. Her thoughts quickly and easily turned to her father, as they so often did. Eric Kostosis had been a generous and kind man. He didn't deserve to die, she thought, a silent tear rolling down her face.

She pushed her head back against the wall and turned her face towards the opening to the ally. As she did, a man, or a boy, passed by. He was.. well, tall, dark and handsome. Chris wiped away the lone tear, and got up to follow him. When she came out into the main street, he was climbing the bricks next to a balcony, where a girl sat. She smiled. His climb was obviously struggled.

Chris, having developed her body over the years, could have easily followed him up. Instead, she leaned against the building opposite, and waited until he sat down next to the girl. So what's a little girl like you hanging out by a balcony for? Chris looked up at him, and cocked her head slightly, giving him a flirty smile. I think the real question is, how's a man like you roaming the streets of Italy alone? As she spoke, she was careful to hide her fangs. She wasn't sure if the man was a human or an Elysian, and she wasn't taking any chances.

[Ilire]

Ilire had been folding his hands in his lap when a disjointed voice all but purred,

"I think the real question is, how's a man like you roaming the streets of Italy alone?"

Ooh...I'm a man now. The words bought a smirk to his lips before he realized that the girl next to him hadn't spoken a word. In fact, if she had, he probably would've been more than a little alarmed. He pushed himself up a little to get a better look at his surroundings.

He looked around incredulously, left, then right. Odd. Could it be that he was hearing things? Or perhaps a passing deity spending some of her endless time on harassing fledglings? Or maybe... Oh...he frowned. He looked down and was pleased to see a pretty lady looking up at him with what he decided was a coy smile.

"I wander the streets sometimes. What’s it to you?" Ilire murmered through half-lidded eyes. He threw in a little sigh of feigned indifference just for good measure.


Please remember the two paragraph minimum rule. Thanks

[Chris]

As the man looked around, confused, Chris kept in a laugh. As if that little girl would really say such a thing! She kept waiting, silent, until his eyes found her.

When he spoke, he was obviously trying to "play cool". Chris raised her eyebrows slightly, trying to keep the edges of her mouth from curling up. His indifference was something she had mastered. She had never needed to throw herself at a guy. Looking up at him, she noticed he was wearing an earing. She had always found guys' earrings sexy.

I wander the streets sometimes. What’s it to you?

She waited a moment before responding, just to keep him waiting. She would have bit her lip when she looked back up at him, but those fangs would get in the way. Instead, she had to keep her mouth closed over her teeth.

Oh, it's everything to me. She walked forward, closer to the balcony. I'm Chris. Mind if I come up? She moved towards the wall the man had used to climb up, placing her hand on the first stone that jutted out. It would be hard to climb in wedges and a short skirt, but she could do it.

[Ilire]

Her eyebrows went up. Amused, he imitated her; raising one of his eyebrows into a neat arch and wondered if it would frustrate her. For a moment she didn't answer, and Ilire watched with intense fascination as the corners of her mouth twitched. Was she trying to hide a smile or a grimace?

"Oh, it's everything to me. I'm Chris. Mind if I come up?"

The way she moved toward the wall made it quite plain that she, Chris – wasn’t that a boy’s name? Perhaps another strange human custom; after all, nothing out of place indicated anything more than a plain dull human – was surely going to climb up. How…tenacious of her.

He watched as she tested the first brick with one hand. That was an awfully short skirt she was wearing. A smirk found its way onto his pale features again and he gave a short snort of amusement. Humans could be so oblivious sometimes.

“I’m Ilire,” he offered. “and I don't mind, but that’s one hell of an outfit you’re wearing to climb up a wall.”

[Chris]

I’m Ilire, and I don't mind, but that’s one hell of an outfit you’re wearing to climb up a wall.

Chris laughed, and looked herself over again. Hell yeah, it is. Trust me though, I'll be fine. She turned towards the way, and pulled on the bricks that stuck up, bringing up her feet onto the ledges. She moved slow for herself, but not slow by anyone else's measure. It had been a while since her last exercise. As she went, she was careful to keep her skirt from moving up too high, though she did allow it to move up an inch or so.

Soon, she was at the top and climbing over the railing. Slightly out of breath, she laughed again. So, how'd you think that was? Feigning concern, she pulled at the bottom of her skirt.

Now that Chris was up at the top, she could get a better look at Ilire. He had silver hair, and his eyes were two different colors. That, however, wasn't the weirdest thing about him. Rather, it was the tattoo that covered almost half his face. Quickly, Chris' thoughts went to her own tattoo on her back. She automatically pulled on the back of her olive green tight tank top, making sure it was covered.

Ignoring any rule of society about boundaries, Chris knelt down next to Ilire, facing him. She stuck out her right index finger, on which the nail was cut short and painted with a sparkly black nail polish. She touched his forehead softly, and moved her finger down around the side of his face with the tattoo until she reached his chin. She let her finger linger a moment, and then removed it. What, she said almost playfully, is up with that? Her face, she noticed, was not far from his.

I know you had permission to godmod because I saw you two plotting in the cbox, but don't forget your notes, guys.

[Ilire]

She seemed to take his comment with a grain of salt and after testing a brick, began the moderate climb upwards. Joy.

Ilire watched with blatant interest as Chris steadily made her way up to the balcony; apparently she was in much better shape than he was, and lacked the fear of heights - not really a fear: just a dislike, of course - he suffered from. To his dismay, she kept track of her skirt and made a point of smoothing it down every few bricks. A pity. Perhaps she was not as stupid as he had previously thought her to have been.

"So, how'd you think that was?"

She trailed off and stared at him. And stared some more, studying his face as if he were a map. Had a mole sprouted onto his face? Was there a ketchup stain?

Manners, manners.

The silence was finally broken when she took a seat near him and started touching the contours of his face, more specifically his tattoo, his baby. A wave of revulsion swept through him as she absently stroked it with a finger. Her finger glided over each curve and strike of the etching. He prayed with every fiber of his being that she would please take her -pottymouth- hands off him.

"What is up with that?"

Ilire gave a small shudder and prayed she wouldn't notice in the dark. Having people question his tattoo was something he had gotten used to; touching it on the other hand was something he would always detest.

"None of your business, babe." He sneered, and pulled away from her; folding his legs up to his chest and leaning his chin on his knees.

[Chris]

Chris once again forced herself not to smile as Ilire replied. However, as he moved back, she realized he wasn't joking anymore. She swore silently under her breath, realizing she'd just have to try harder. It wasn't so much that she wanted him- not that he was bad to look at or anything- but that she wanted someone. She hadn't had any... action since her arrival in Elysia.

Following Ilire's cue, she sat back as well, though she pulled her legs under her, and put her hands on the ground behind her and leaned back, moving her head quickly so her long blondish brown waves swished behind her. Oh, have I offended you? she asked, feigning innocence. She knew immediately that it was the wrong action, but what could she say? She always made things a challenge for herself.

You know, she said, leaning forward, I have a tattoo too. Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll get to see it. She almost shuddered as she said it, regretting her words. She didn't want to show anyone that tattoo. How desperate was she, really? She could only hope it didn't show.

[Ilire]

A few moments ago, Ilire had been feeling quite enthusiastic. Now he felt drained and annoyed and too tired for this girl's games.

"Oh, have I offended you?"

No, I'm moping because I just remembered my pet hamster died. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to breathe normally. It wasn't the first time someone had touched his face, but it was so...disarming each time. His left hand disappeared under a long sleeve and tugged on the black satin ribbon tied around his other wrist. Almost immediately he felt the usual soothing quality of the scrap work its magic.

"You know, I have a tattoo too. Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll get to see it."

This time, Ilire gave in to temptation and rolled his eyes before leaning on his cheek to regard her much like a flounder. A quick skim of her body told him that her tattoo wasn't in any readily visible areas... His pulse jumped for a moment as the letch in him reared its ugly little head. She really was quite pretty; it was a shame she was so graceless.

"I'm sure it's a nice tattoo," he said peevishly, "but I'm really not interested in knowing where it's located. I've had enough surprises tonight, thanks."

[Erilyaer]

Erilyaer blinked at the comment. Little girl? she thought, staring oddly at him. You shouldn't be hanging around on your own, she sneered. bad things happen to little boys. She glanced at his slim figure, rather like her own, only almost slimmer. She sighed as a female came over. She seemed to be hiding her fangs, but Erilyaer saw them alright.

She restrained herself to push him slightly, and as they conversed, she fingered her own tattoo on the ridge of her back. She made no comment though, and merely sat listening to them and gazing into the distance as she swung her right leg backwards and forwards constantly, then stopped.

She was quite sick of the conversation, so instead commented herself. Okay, okay, she said coolly. I'm sick of remaning silent but anyway. What are you here two here for? She folded her arms and hung her head so that her jet black hair was able to fall in front of her on either side.

[Ilire]

"Okay, okay, I'm sick of remaning silent but anyway. What are you here two here for?"

Ilire turned his head so fast his neck cracked a little. He winced for more reasons than one. He had almost forgotten about the other girl; almost forgotten her snide comment about little boys. Almost, but not quite.

Ilire gave a derisive snort and shook his head ruefully.

"As I said before...I wander the streets sometimes." He jerked a thumb himself at Chris and continued, "Dunno what she's up to, though."

He resisted the urge to snicker as the younger girl tucked her chin to her chest and caused a dark curtain of hair to obscure her eyes. Kids these days. Really. Everything was about moody this and moody that. It was so rare to find a vampire or demon these days that wasn't living up to the imaginative descriptions of humans. He was not quite sure where he fell, but Ilire prayed it was outside the sterotype.

"So what're you doing out here, little emo? I saw your fangs earlier; d'you plan on biting me?" He joked. For all her bluster, she was still so vaguely innocent; Ilire felt sorry for her.

[Chris]

Chris could sense from Ilire's voice that she had no chance. Well, not for now anyways. She could feel herself getting increasingly desperate as well, and she knew she had to leave the situation. She could only hope that she'd run into him at another time and pick back up from where... well, where they started. Deciding to leave, she stood up, brushing off the back of her skirt.

As she stood, the other girl stood as well. Chris had forgotten about her. She looked young to her, maybe at least five years younger. Being 21, Chris was really only interested in those 17 or older. When the girl spoke, Chris just rolled her eyes. She waited for Ilire to respond, and then said her own reply. I don't actually have any reason to share. Especially if you're going to be so rude about it. Realizing fully what she said, she looked down, and spoke softly so only Ilire could hear. Though I suppose I'm not one to talk.

Gaining back her confidence, she straightened her back, tossing her hair over her shoulder. You know what? I don't really need this. She strode over to the railing, and swung one leg over. She followed with the other, and put her feet down on the little edge hanging out from under the railing. She held on to the top of the railing, looking straight at Ilire. Maybe you'll forgive me one day. Goodbye, Ilire. She said his name slowly and delicately, and without a smile.

Turning away, she took a deep breath, and jumped down from the balcony. It wasn't that far to the ground, and jumping would just be easier. She landed, and immediately crouched to the ground to soften the impact. As she fell, her skirt flew up a bit, but she quickly pushed it down again.

Having hit the ground safely, she stood up and walked away down the street, swaying her hips slowly as she went. At the first available alley, she disappeared into it.

[Erilyaer]

Erilyaer smiled slightly, then it faded as she heard the word "emo". She shook her head at Chris' sensitivity, and stroked her own bangs. Ah, here come the labels, she said, uttering a small laugh. Well, I suppose because I like it here. Especially on this balcony. She stopped to pull up her knee length socks, then stopped and noticed a large scratch down it her thigh. Stupid girl, I am. She commented this aloud accidently as she attempted to cover up the scratch that was quite wide and stretched from either side of her thigh.

Do you like night? Erilyaer asked the boy, realising she hadn't told him her name. And I'm Erilyaer, by the way. She shivered slightly in the cold night air, her black hair glinting in the light as she faced upwards to the moon. She fingered her sharp nails which she had painted to match her hair just because she was coming to this beautiful country. She then regretted it, knowing that he'd start calling her goth or emo again or something.

[Ilire]

Ilire was only partially surprised when he saw Chris out of the corner of his eye leaving after a brisk answer to the dark-haired girl. He examined his nail and picked at a small piece of dirt that was lodged under it. Ouch.

"You know what? I don't really need this. Maybe you'll forgive me one day. Goodbye, Ilire."

Her voice lingered a little too long on his name and he looked up to see that she had moved toward the the edge of the balcony. What in the name of Xanth was she doing? Panic began to set in as she leapt nimbly over the banister and teetered on the two inch edge. He finally got off his bum and instead kneeled awkwardly on one knee, unsure whether to stop her or let her do...whatever.

"Err..."

He nearly had a heart attack when she jumped; but the frantic thudding of his heart was soon joined by the tap-tap of heels to cement. Ilire let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. She'd be fine, hopefully, and recover from his rejection soon.

His attention turned back to the girl beside him, who was currently tugging at her stockings. She said something about being stupid, but his eyes were fixed on the large cut on her leg. He frowned and ignored her question, looking down sharply at her.

"Erilyaer, how did that happen?"

[Erilyaer]

Erilyaer stole a glance at Ilire's face and form, and decided to herself he didn't look like a very strong person. I'm not sure. And it's nothing, she replied, lacing her fingers together. How old are you? She asked this uncertainly whether he would tell her or not, being just 17 herself.

Sitting herself in silence for a bit, the vampire leaned against the side of the wall and stared at the bright dots in the sky.

Erilyaer could not help but end up glancing very oftenly at Ilire's neck, something within her nature to hold back and resist. She bit her lip, one fang piercing her lip and drawing a few drops of crimson blood. She fixed her attention on her own feet worriedly, not wanting to attack him. Why was it so hard?

She jumped down from the balcony, waving up at him. I should get going, she said, looking up at Ilire. Goodbye. Maybe we shall meet again. And with that, she was off and away from the balcony, away from temptation.

[Ilire]

Ilire frowned at her nonchalance toward such a conspicuous injury. He found it almost impossible to believe that it didn't at least sting. It pained him to wonder what could've attacked her - he tried to rule out any chance that it was a self-inflicted wound. Suddenly unsure of himself, Ilire began with a stern: "If I were you..." He quickly ditched that train of thought, though, because he wasn't her. As a child, it had been his favorite sentence-starter, much to the exasperation of his siblings.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen." He said, evenly. He attempted to catch her eye and bring the topic back to the cut on her hip, but her eyes appeared to fall just under his chin. An uneasy silence ensued, and Ilire joined her in looking up at the night sky. Stars had always entranced him ever since his sister had first dragged him out that faithfully fridgid winter night. Despite the fact he had caught a cold and been bedridden for the next week or so, it had been a life-altering experience.

"I should get going, goodbye. Maybe we shall meet again."

Another curt farewell. Ilire found himself truly sick of them - full of untold secrets and insincerity. Instead of voicing this, he gave a tired nod. It had gotten quite late, and when the gentle pattering of the other girl's departure disappeared, he began the nerve-wracking climb down the side of the balcony again.

It had been an odd night.