To Aggrivate the Dead

[ωΘĿƒ]

Middle of the day and the town was deserted. Figures as much... Z took a stroll through the place, looking at all the cool old buildings and knowing full well that vampires didn't like the sunlight as much as him. Well, sucks for them, he thought, kicking a stone across the sidewalk. Faintly, he could see people inside the stores though. They must be awake, but not able to come out into the light.

He shrugged, guessing that made sense. Just because he was a mythical creature did not mean he knew all about the other ones. He just knew that vampires hated light, and that was it. As he was walking, a storefront caught his attention. It was more modern than the rest of the buildings, and even in the blinding glare of day seemed to be open.

Z looked around, making sure no one was trying to bite him from behind, then entered the building. The sign had said "bite cafe", and as not funny as that joke was, it rung true enough to him. This was the bite cafe. He could get a bite to eat, and he could get a bite taken out of him. Sounded wonderful.

Inside, though the lights were on and everything, there still wasn't anyone inside. Not a soul, though the place looked open for business. As he examined the strange and awkward scene a little more, he noticed that not only were there no patrons, but there also weren't any staff. This probably should have tipped him off to something being wrong with the place, but his infallible sense of curiosity got the better of him, and he walked up to the bar and sat down.

He wondered if he could have a little drink while he was here?
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[Iƪƪia]

(ooc: sorry it took so long^^)

Slowly and deliberately, Illia sauntered through the old town, marveling at the aged architecture. Occasionally, she would stop to inspect something interesting in a shop window. As much as she tried to remain calm, she couldn't help but glance backwards at every little sound. The attack the vampires had launched on them was still fresh in her mind. It was foolish to worry, of course, vampires can't come out in daylight. That's why the town's always deserted during the day. Just like today.

The chimera stopped as she subconsciously looked around her, clenching her fists. Actually, she wished that one of them would come out right now. She'd make them pay for what happened.... Somehow... Could she even..?

With a defeated sigh, Illia looked up at the building she had stopped in front of. "Bite Cafe," was it? Chuckling at the name, she decided that she might as well stop in for a bit.

As she entered, Illia looked around curiously. There was no one to be seen. This place was open wasn't it? Well, where were the customers? Or the employees? Taking one last suspicious glance around the place, she noticed that it wasn't empty. There was one other person at the bar. Upon closer inspection, she realized that she knew this other person. With a smile, she ambled over to the bar and took a seat beside him.

"Hey, so what brings you here?"

[ωΘĿƒ]

The dragon looked beside him and noticed for the first time Illia sitting there. At first, he hadn't been paying attention. He was still thinking about that little drink when she'd sat down, and in reaction to the sudden movement so close to him in a vampire infested town, he nearly toppled out of his seat.

"Whoa! You scared me..." Z tried to choke his lungs back into the proper place in his chest, inching himself back up on the barstool as he did so. Wow. He needed to pay more attention. If that had been a bloodsucker... He shuddered at the thought.

Talk about mental scars. That one went right up there with his parents abandoning him. He didn't think he could ever feel the same way about a deserted little town, or for that matter nightfall again.

"Sorry. He said finally, composing himself. "I was just a little distracted. I'm here because...

Actually, why was he here? He thought about it a second, and the answer came to him in a flash.

"I'm here because I'm not so sure about this whole Crane thing... Where the hell do we stand, Illia?"

He'd been thinking about it for so long. Ever since the first moment Illia wanted to get the the bottom of it all. And he'd been asking himself all these questions, only to find that he wasn't sure about any of it. Was he even on Illia's side with Crane? She seemed angry at him, but did she still trust him? Z didn't think he did. How could he? He'd already been taken advantage of once by the self proclaimed "adults" of his life, and he'd ended up hopping from school to school, with no family, no friends, nothing. He wasn't sure that he could trust another one of those people that gave you an obscure promise and expected you to be fine with it.
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[Iƪƪia]

The sudden, strange response stunned Illia into silence for a moment. She thought carefully about her answer, wishing it could be simple. Did she even know where they stood? So what then?

"I... Don't know," She answered honestly.

She had thought about this for quite awhile, but had never come up with a definitive answer. A back-and-forth battle continued to rage on in her mind. They had almost been killed multiple times, so Crane should be stopped, right? Then again, maybe he had a good reason. Maybe everything was for their greater good?

Closing her eyes in concentration, she tried to sort out her feelings. To put them together in the most logical, coherent manner.

"I... I don't trust him. Everything he's done... Everything he's keeping from us. I don't trust any of it. But... I feel like... Like I want to trust him. Does that make sense?"

Illia thought about her words for a moment. Yes, that was exactly how she'd been feeling. Unable to even say them to herself, it was strange that she was able to speak to Z so easily.

"If we just find out what he's up to... Then I could form a more exact opinion."

[ωΘĿƒ]

"Exactly" That was it. That was what he'd been trying to put to words. He didn't trust Crane. Not as far as he could throw the guy. But... he did think something more was going on, and maybe Crane was on their side, although he'd never said it.

Maybe... but Z could never be content with a "maybe". He had to know something soon.

"Touching."

Z's head snapped around, and at the sight of the pale white skin and the leering eyes, he actually did fall out of his seat in fright this time.

There was a sharp pain at the back of his head as he hit the ground, and he was pretty much crumpled defenselessly on the floor of the cafe, but that didn't stop him from clenching his teeth together and letting out a nasty snarl.

"You're that guy!"

The vampire had leaned over the narrow bar table to find Z sprawled out over the floor, and the dragon could just see him as he clawed at the barstool trying to get back up.

"That guy?" White lingered on the words disdainfully, taking it a little too personally for anyone's comfort. "I give you brats the death sentence, and all you know me by is 'that guy'? Crane's wasting his time teaching you kids how to be real monsters if you can't even remember a name."
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[Iƪƪia]

Eyes widening in surprise, Illia turned to see the vampire glaring at them. Her anger igniting immediately, she didn't notice when Z toppled out of his chair. Fighting to stay calm, she continued to glower at White as she listened to the exchange of words.

"Why should we bother remembering the names of scum like you?" She spat.

Her nails became claw-like as she dragged them across the bar, toward herself. After quickly looking around the room before turning her attention back toward White, she leaned back and attempted to seem undaunted. She wasn't about to let this guy get the best of her.

"Speaking of which, where are your friends? They don't want to play today?"

[ωΘĿƒ]

Z crawled his painful way back up to the top of his seat and perched there silently. Illia was right. There wasn't anyone around this time. Sure it was day, but he'd seen a few of the vampires up and awake. They were here, they just weren't in this building.

"That's kinda true. Where are they?"

* * *

White looked more than bothered by the mention of his kind as "scum", but that reaction only lasted a second. He'd dealt with insults before. It seemed in the community of mythical monsters, vampires were the butt end of many a vicious and otherwise completely false barge of rumors. Name calling was not unheard of, and even in this quiet little town there still lay the tensions between races that he'd been so used to in the outside world.

He flattened his frayed nerves and replied evenly.

"Unlike some of you abominations, we don't fancy our sun dresses and afternoon walks. It's daytime. We sleep. That's where everyone is. Sleeping. I'd do the same, but the sound of young love bickering woke me up."

There came then a strange and almost undetectable change in White's manner then. The sharp edge to his tone smoothed out, and he became unceasingly cordial.

"And I run the local cafe, so I needed to tend to business. What'll it be?"

* * *

Z was cautious... but he had also been thinking long and hard about that drink before Illia got here. He quickly piped up in that regard.

"Oh! I want a pint of your best!"
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[Iƪƪia]

Illia only rolled her eyes at the new affable tone in White's voice. She crossed her arms over her chest as she wondered about what kind of drink one could find in this place. Blood, perhaps? No matter. She wasn't about to try anything from here, considering the bad blood between them. She looked away from the bar, silently cursing Z's lack of concern.

"I'll pass."

As she scanned the rest of the room, Illia contemplated heading out. It was uncomfortable to be in this town at all now, much less inches from their leader. Then again, she couldn't leave without Z, lest he do something to get himself in trouble. With a quiet growl, she began rhythmically tapping her fingers on the bar, warily watching the vampires actions.

[ωΘĿƒ]

With lighting precision and a careful, practiced hand in the matter, White produced a tall glass and angled it towards one of the taps behind him, the spout ingeniously camouflaged enough under all the wood and bottles for it to be almost unnoticeable. The liquid that came out was just slightly under ice cold, and had a pleasant frothy texture. The color - not red, as he was sure one of them was thinking - was a pure flawless gold, just a few shades lighter than the immaculate metal itself. When the glass was full, White closed off the spout and steadily brought the full glass around to the table. Once there, a few things had become clear to him.

First, he understood that the dragon had been slightly joking when he wanted a beer. He stared at it disbelievingly, watching the bubbles scar the perfect color as they floated lazily to the top. Still, he had wanted the beer. White could tell. He looked it over, almost meekly, before ever daring to take a little sip.

White turned his attention away to discover the second thing he was to learn. The chimera - Illia, as the dragon had called her - was watching him. She obviously had a few trust issues she needed to simmer down on. The vampire leaned on the counter with one of his elbows, that same inattentive and bored expression dulling his normally threatening features just as it had when they'd first met.

"Your loss, that is, only if you don't like alcohol." He thought for a second, watching again as the dragon finally grew brave enough to begin guzzling the pint of beer. "Although, I'll let you in on a little secret. Once the part where Daniel says he doesn't want you dead is out of the way, there is no longer an issue." He smiled a bit, out of habit, he guessed. "I compartmentalize that way. Don't think you're important enough to make me gather another swarm of children just to dispose of you."

* * *

There was a smile planted on Z's face as he finished off the first half of the glass. He'd been cautious at first, but after he'd thought it out, he found there really wasn't any reason to be worried.

Crane had specifically told this guy not to kill them, and there'd been a pretty massive power struggle over the whole deal. His guess was, after something like that, the last thing this guy wanted was to **** off Crane any. That logic at least was enough to convince him he hadn't drunk cyanide or something...

"Man, this is good stuff." Z sighed. He wondered if Illia ever drank.
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[Iƪƪia]

Illia watched disdainfully as Z finished his drink. It wasn't as if drinking was beyond her. How many times had she sought to drown her sorrows in the bottom of a glass. She had even found herself in trouble many times when things got... out of hand. For that reason, she's chosen to abstain from alcohol for a time. Although... A drink sounded good right now. However, her unyielding stubbornness got the better of her.

"Whatever. Don't think that's ever going to change what I think of you freaks."

She turned away once again, a scowl still fixed on her face. So what if Crane ordered them not to kill? Were they supposed to trust this guy because Crane says it's okay? That wasn't reason enough for Illia. It didn't matter what anyone told her. Any time she would come to this town now, she'd constantly be watching for one of these blood-suckers to attack her. It was better to be cautious than careless.

[ωΘĿƒ]

White granted Illia's harsh words just enough merit to consider them speech, and left it at that.

"Suit yourself."

Hey, if girly didn't want to trust anyone, that was her prerogative. In any case, he had sensed a bit of an old wound with that in her. Not only could he see this because he was a vampire and subject to a higher degree of recognizing detail, but he was also a damn good bartender, and even the mediocre ones could tell a bit about their patrons. He could see clearly that something had happened in this girl's life - maybe even over the course of a few years - that had scarred her inwardly, forcing her to be cautious in making connections. The dragon really didn't know this. He was too blunt an instrument to get anything more than a hint of what damage she'd been subject to. Yes, he may have noticed a few things, but he was one of those hopeless romantic types. There was no salvaging him...

But there he went, analyzing the people at his bar again. White swiped the empty glass as the dragon finished it off, already refilling it and setting it back down.

"Hey!" He heard the dragon whine. "I didn't ask for another one!"

"You wanted one though, didn't you?"

Silence, then the dragon backed down and started on his second pint. See? Hopeless. Sure, he had the stomach to sit there and gripe to himself about all the injustice served up to him, but he never really did anything about it. Poor kid. White felt for him. Stubborn yet willing to put it aside and be stepped on by anyone who tried. No wonder he hadn't found out about his sweetheart Illia yet.

* * *

Z intentionally drank the second glass more slowly, staring at the vampire guy and trying to figure him out. What the hell? Thought he was so slick and smart... Just like all the self righteous adults out there that knew what was "best for him" and etc. with all that crap. Figures. He really hoped if he began seizing from the poison in his drink that Illia would be able to get some kind of help. Maybe get Crane to bury him like he did all those other blood suckers.

Hey... didn't this guy know about Crane? Like, a lot? The two had looked awfully friendly - well, in between arguing over his and Illia's life. And Z had heard from the prime gossip that this guy had been here around as long as Crane had. He'd know everything! And he was involved in this plan thing, or else why would Crane use him to freak them all out with the day of the dead scene?

Anyways, the guy looked less clueless than Mikey, and more accessible than Rehnquist. Maybe the answers had been sitting in front of them the whole time.

He attributed all this ingenious thought to the beer, of course. What else could work its magic like a few good old fashioned brewskies?
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[Iƪƪia]

Continuing to watch the vampire uncertainly, Illia had been attempting to sort out her thoughts; to create a logical plan of action. White and Crane were supposed to be good friends, right? Both of them had certainly been around long enough to know a lot about the other. He must know about whatever Crane's been planning as well. After all, didn't he have a part in it?

Perhaps they'd be able to find out about everything. Here and now. They wouldn't need to go through with the raid. They could learn everything right now and, if necessary, put a stop to it.

Then again, didn't this guy almost kill them? Even if it didn't turn out that way, that thought was certainly on his mind. Also, would he maybe feel a strange sort of loyalty to Crane? Sure this guy was a lowlife, but after having known a person for so long there must be some sense of duty. So could they trust anything this guy says?

Well, as long as the opportunity presented itself, one might as well take advantage of it.

With one sharp inhale, she smoothed out her features to form a near-perfect mask of composure. Lowering her arms to a less-guarded position, she leaned forward onto the bar. When she spoke again, only the slightest hint of animosity remained in her voice.

"Excuse me, but I've been thinking... You know Professor Crane pretty well, don't you?"

As she said these words she felt her confidence raise enough to even be able to offer a small smile.

"Because we've been thinking a lot about this plan that Crane's been formulating... And I was wondering if maybe you knew anything..?"

[ωΘĿƒ]

(I was waiting for that to happen XD)
Z looked over at Illia, happy that she'd said something and not him.

Not that he wasn't amazing at talking to people and all, but he found that if they really didn't have a sense of humor, he never really got that far. This bloodsucker creep didn't have one. Z could already tell. He was one of those badass types that smiled nice for the camera and shot you in the back when the publicity died down. Yeah... He didn't deflect bullets that well... Best to let Illia work her magic on him and see where that went.

Z sunk down into his glass as he slowly slurped down the beer, waiting and watching to see what would happen.

* * *

White had to keep himself from smiling at that. This girly really wanted to know what was happening. She'd muscled down all that hate and suspicion just to sweet-smile it out of him.

Crane had told him that the kids wanted to know. At first, White had assumed this was the man's daft and dreamy way of saying he hadn't gotten them to lose interest yet, but apparently not. Apparently, Crane's words had meant exactly what they should mean. These kids really wanted to know. Thinking of it, he guessed he would too. It was a pretty juicy secret, especially considering where the kids were in all this.

White had no real loyalty to Daniel Crane. Sure, they were old friends, but what did that mean to someone like him? Not much, was the answer. Loyalty is not a solid thing. It is wavering and unreliable. White had no sense of preserving Crane's little secret, especially since his fate didn't alter much depending on if they knew or not.

Now, did that meant he'd tell them? Well... that was another matter entirely.

"So, willing to be civil now, are we?" He asked, the same kind of smile already present on his features. "I've known Daniel for perhaps the longest besides Mike, but Daniel never tells the old spider anything important. Mike's got a heart condition. Daniel wouldn't want to worry him too much and have him keel over one day from the stress."

White left a little time for that to sink in before he continued.

"And, he does like to come here to talk things out. Something about the charm of a little town tavern and the company of an old friend, I'm sure."

As with Daniel, White had the distinct urge to get out one of his fine imported cigarettes. Daniel had never minded his smoking, and he'd always noticed a bit more of an ease in the old chimera, once White had a cigarette and a nice glass of liquor. White had understood that Daniel was the kind to take pleasure form others' pleasure. He liked to know that other people were happy, so he could be happy and settled himself. This had admittedly worked up a bit of a routine to White's conversations, and often times after first meeting Daniel, he would still practice the ritual of getting out at least a cigarette to calm his nerves while he spoke. Upon thinking of how children would react to such a thing though, White stifled this urge of his and chose to remain propped up against the bar.

"Besides, Rehnquist may be close, but he'll only ever be a disposable human. The man is only along the lines of sixty - not old at all by our standards. Daniel knows that no matter how old he gets and how frail everyone around him becomes, he can still sit down at my bar, and talk to me about life."

White concluded with a small pause, purely for emphasis.

"So, to answer your question... Yes. I know all about his plans for you."

He left off there, purposefully. These cute little kiddies might not be able to feel his wrath, but they sure as hell could get a taste. He spoke no more on the subject, just to show them he could.

He knew all there was to know about Daniel's plans, but that didn't mean he was going to tell them anything.

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[Iƪƪia]

Illia lingered over every word that White said, pretty much committing them to memory. Until he stopped rather abruptly. She knew it was useless to wait for him to continue. He knew everything, but he wasn't talking. The chimera had to wonder why. Why wouldn't he tell them? Just what would he get out of it if they don't find out?

Why did everyone have to be so damn mysterious?!

Resisting the urge to scream, Illia took several deep breaths as she contemplated the man before her. Would it be possible to persuade him to talk? Unlikely. He did seem rather inflexible. Not to mention apathetic. Although, perhaps he was uncaring enough to decide to tell them anyway. No matter, Illia wasn't prepared to give up just yet.

"Could you tell us?.. Please?"

Overall, a weak attempt. White wasn't the type to be swayed by mere niceties. She wasn't sure if anything would be able to convince him. After all, none of this affected him. Why should he care whether they lived or died? Still, Illia found that she had to make an effort, no matter how futile.

"I think we have a right to know."

[ωΘĿƒ]

There was a small smile twitching at the ends of White's otherwise stern, immovable mouth. He couldn't help it. Not that he wasn't completely iron clad in all regards of information. He found that being a smuggler had that kind of effect on you, even if you had a good old friend to deflect the human police, and an even better cover to keep the eyes of the all powerful mythical authorities off you. Still, there was that little part of you that must be developed. That little section that, when someone got too close to an answer you wanted hidden, would snap shut and refuse to open. It was more a survival tactic than anything.

Forget the police, the authorities of the mythical world.... Well they weren't something to spit in the face of so easily. They didn't play games, and they didn't like it when someone somewhere wasn't playing by the rules. The last thing they wanted was some idiot human finding out about them and calling the marines, or worse the media. White hadn't been on the safe side of the rules for a very long time, and he shuddered to think what would happen if a few of those all seeing eyes wasn't diverted at the right time. Because of that, he'd learned quickly not to say anything when it was really important.

More to the point, if he could divert and refuse to divulge where the mythical authority was involved, he could handle a little girl and her pleading.

White couldn't help but smile, then break out into a full fledged fit of laughing.

"Really?" He asked, the sarcasm in his polite demeanor literally scathing. "That's it? You get tossed into a room with a troll, then are nearly killed by my children, and that's all you use to persuade me? It's your right?"

He took the time to calm down, and decided in the end it was better if he did have that cigarette. It would work out better for all of them, he rationalized as he struck the match and produced one of the thin flammable sticks.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want something from me. Sorry, girly. That's the way it works." He laughed a little more, just to get it out of his system, before taking the first draw.

* * *

Red. Bright, blinding red. Everything he saw, painted an immaculate red color, like someone had spilled paint all over his vision. Z couldn't breathe. He could just look, and see the red, and that was it. Something small was scraping, like a brittle object being slowly strained by a more hardy force. After listening to the small, squealing scrape, he realized what it was. His glass as his fingers raked against it, trying to form a fist.

Knowing what the sound was didn't stop it any. Eventually, his hand wouldn't be denied its fistlike nature, and it shattered the glass to become a fist. Some of the remaining beer spilled out over the bar table, but Z really didn't notice it much. He was too focused, to busy with the red in his vision.

No one talked that way to Illia. He didn't care who they were, badass bloodsucker or not. He'd open his big toothy dragon mouth and eat this guy whole for talking like that to his Illia...

Before he could properly think of more ways to kill the guy, he was already sliding over the table and at him full force, the red getting brighter and brighter as he did.

Then, there was a big crash. Z really didn't know what from, but it was pretty huge. He felt a little dizzy, and a little more of a pain all along his chest, but other than that it was just. All. Red.

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