The Bard's Bottle

[Andrew Baron]

Several dark and poorly lit allyways beyond where the proper gentleman strode the streets on their way home from work, Andrew wrapped his coat tighter about his body, shivering in the winter air, and jingling several coins in his pocket. He tipped the hat further over his eyes as he walked, but his smirk still showed through all of his cover.
After a rather generous tip for the cab driver, he was told about this place. Supposedly, and the cab driver sweared by both horses that drove the carriage, this pub made the best ale in all of London.
Andrew wasn't suprirsed. If he wanted good pie and good ale then he knew it would be best to stray off the formal, respectable path, and he was used to it. Many years in London gave him this sort of intuition towards food and drink, and he never tossed aside a tip like this like another man of this city might in a hurry.

He followed the driver's directions perfectly, down one more back street of dirty cobblestones, and then he stopped, feeling the warmth radiating from the building on the corner across the street. Laughter echoed out from the open doorway, and he could see bright lights and a fire roaring inside. The scent of meat pies drifted across the street, and glancing at the sign he knew he was at the right place.

The Bard's Bottle

The little wooden, crooked sign wavered in the wind, creaking ever so slightly, and he motioned for Tobias to follow him across the street.

"The first round's on me," Andrew offered, even though he could well afford to pay for all of them (and so could Tobias). "Shall we?"

[Tobias]

Tobias surveyed the building in front of his eyes. It's backalley location had no effect on it, for it seemed through the open doorway was a crowded pub.

"Good, it's crowded. We won't get murdered." Tobias said, chuckling. "And fine, you can buy the first round. And the second. Hell, you can even pay for all of them...just kidding mate. After you," the male said, motioning towards the open door, the noises from within carrying them both inside.

"A table in the corner?" Tobias asked, checking with Andrew. "You get the drinks, I'll get the table. And try not to get into any fights in the process."

[Andrew Baron]

The place smelled of leathered seats, the sweat of many customers, the juice of meat pies, and the fresh pour of ale. Glancing around, Andrew's smile broadened at the characters moving about the place.
At the table closest to the door, a man sat with a girl who was most certainly not his wife, and in the booth behind him, a group of musicians plucked at their instruments as if they did not know how to play them. A strong smoke came to Andrew's senses, and he grimaced, sniffing the air. In the table he next almost tripped over sat a man with a pipe stuffed with something other than tobacco, and Andrew slapped a handful of coins on his table when Tobias wasn't looking to buy some.
"Murdered?" Andrew laughed at his friend's comment, hiding the handful of pipe stuffer behind his back. There was no need to point out the humor in it- vampires.
"I'll get you a pint to start off. Me too. Then we can move into the whisky." Turning away toward the bar, he called back over his shoulder. "What makes you think I'd get myself into a fight?" He gave a light shrug, knowing all to well his own record in the past. It was still beyond him as to why anyone would ever try to mess with someone who could tear them to shreds.

[Tobias]

Tobias just shook his head as his friend walked towards the bar to get the drinks. He sat back in the chair at their table and took a deep breath, only to choke on all the stenches that the place seemed to be putting out.

Elsewhere in the pub, Tobias heard a fight start up, the sound of breaking glass over the sound of cheers and jeers. But no one paid any mind to it. That was all in the atmosphere of the place. That is what made it fun.

"Would you hurry it up already?" Tobias called across the bar to Andrew

[Andrew Baron]

"Quit being so impatient!" Andrew scolded mockingly, that grin still crossing his features. The ale splashed onto his hands as he travelled around the barroom brawlers to the table his friend chose. "This is an original ale from here. I wonder...it looks rather good. So, before we begin, should we take bets on who will win?" He motioned laughingly to the people fighting behind them and turned in the seat he took to view it better.
The man on the right must have been sixty five years old, minimum, with a long beard of fading red and beady black eyes. He was missing several fingers on his left hand, but he seemed to be putting up quite a fight.
"ARGH!" he growled unintelligably. He swiped his fist into the other man's stomach, a much young, less burly boy of about nineteen. But the boy did not fall over. He only fought harder.
"Half a crown on the right man, the lad with the tough swing." Andrew whistled, sputtering from drinking his ale too fast. "The driver told me about the food and drink but failed to mention the entertainment."
He quickly tired of this, and turning back to Tobias, he asked, "What do you think everyone else is doing right now? I have this sneaking suspicion that all my wines are going to be mysteriously missing again. Last time, Sienna told me that I must have misplaced three bottles of the finest French. Bullshit. They're drinking all my liquor and talking poorly of us."

[Tobias]

"I'm sure they are not talking poorly of us Andrew. Probably just of you," Tobias said, raising his mug to his lips, hiding his smile as he drank up. "And you cannot tell me you have anything against them. You know you love the talk."

The fight behind them ended, the older gentleman being the victor. Applause broke out in the pub, and the laughter, music, and drunk chatter all started back up again.

"And you do know Andrew, if they are drinking your wines, then they will be drunk. Which is a damn funny sight."

[Andrew Baron]

"Women have no alcohol tolerance," Andrew proclaimed stupidly, and he sadistically laughed at the images in his head of Sienna tripping over things all over the house. Ah, sweet karma. "You're right, that would be fun to watch. I do love it when people talk of me anyway. I talk of them. I suppose it's only fair."
Cracking another winning smile, he felt around in his pocket for his cigarettes, careful to avoid the pot in his pocket. Lighting up the white, tobacco stick, he leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, offering one to Tobias with a motion of his hand.
The smoke curled about his fingers and fled his lips, smothered by his breath. Several women glanced over from a table nearby, entranced by the supernatural beauty of it, the way he controlled the smoke and his expression so well, the way he smouldered his gaze on everything he even glanced at.
They began to giggle and whisper to each other, and Andrew leaned across the table to Tobias. "You're so right. I do love the talk. Don't you too?"

[Tobias]

Tobias shrugged off the offer of a cigarette from Andrew. "No thanks," he motioned with a wave of his hand. He watched Andrew's eyes meet the women from the table nearby, and saw their reaction to him.

"Talk it alright most of the time. But other times, action is so much more satisfying. If you get my drift..."

[Andrew Baron]

"Tobias!" Andrew gasped jokingly. Tapping the cigarette ashes into a tray, he let his eyes linger longer on the women farthest from him, a brunette with deep blue eyes and a cunning smile on her lips. "Whatever do you mean?

It's a shame you've tied yourself down with marriage." he continued with a faraway, thoughtful expression. "The one on the right is staring at you. You and I could book a few rooms tonight, account for all the vices, and share one wretched hangover in the morning. But unfortunately you're a man of good morals and virtue, and we'll have to settle for just about half the sins.
It'll do. It's better than being completely pius."
He leaned back in his chair casually, placing his hands behind his head, and pressing the cigarette between his lips, shifting it ever so slightly as he spoke. "So I've ordered us meat pies. They should be coming any minute.
And this place has a suprisingly wide selection of whiskys. Fewer brandies. The ale's rather good."

Suddenly a strange expression came over his face, changing his subject entirely. He smelled blood. Across the room, he saw with widened, acute pupils, a man prick his finger on a splinter from the table, and lick the blood from his cut. His muscles grew tense, the artery in his neck protruded ever so slightly. He breathed deeper, and even choked on the ale again.

"I'll only tell you this because you're my best friend, Tobias-"

He straightened up and fidgeted, unable to keep still with this bothersome question, and he delved his actions further into smoking the cigarette, rapidly, with swift, supernatural movements. Then he continued his statement. "-I haven't hunted in weeks."

[Tobias]

"Clearly Andrew, you already know what I mean with such comments like getting a few rooms and sharing hangovers in the morning. But exactly as you stated, I have my morals and my virtues. All of what I have is for my wife and wife alone. I won't stop you from seeing if these women will join you later, maybe you can tempt them with the ale and the pot that is in your pocket..." Tobias smiled his usual clever smile.

His stomach grumbled at the mention of meat pies, and his mind seemed to find the mention of whiskey pleasurable. Which was very much unlike Tobias. He was about to get up and grab a few whiskey's for he and Andrew when his friends' chosen words hit his ears.

It was also in Tobias' nature to have smelled the same blood that Andrew had, yet he was doing his best to ignore it. But if Andrew had not hunted in weeks, the capability of restraining even an aged vampire such as he was near impossible.
"Andrew, you need to ignore it for now," Tobias said, his eyes locking onto his friends. In his eyes, those desperate eyes, a hunger that Tobias knew all too well.

"Remember last time we went drinking and then went out hunting? I nearly killed you. You want that to happen again?"

[Andrew Baron]

"How did you see that-" But Andrew decided that the answer to that question didn't matter. "Have some tonight?" He asked instead, trying to mask a conflict crashing inside himself over something far more serious. "I- I-b-bought this to share with you, not them." He motioned to the women, but suddenly he gripped the table.
A drop of saliva slithered from his teeth, and in the mortal, gentleman fashion, he dabbed at his mouth with his napkin as if nothing happened. Just a drop of ale, Tobias, he tried to pretend. I'm handling myself rather well.
The woman behind him flushed in her face, enough color to remind Andrew of blood, and the man across the room still bled away-
"I have to piss. Why don't you buy a few more drinks?"
And he left to the alley outside of the pub as fast as he could to breathe in the fresh air (well as fresh as it got on that side of London). He panted and rested his hands on his knees, resisting the urge to either vomit or loose all control entirely. After all, a man stood outside tapping his foot and changing the chalk on the ale sign.
His breath billowed out in a puff of air from the cold, and he seemed so human and vulnerable right then to Andrew, so vulnerable-
He berated himself and cursed at the wall he faced, biting his lip and willing the hunger to leave him. Once he gained a bit of self control, he felt sick to his stomach and sick to his head, and returned inside, past the man with the white chalk and past the table where he'd bought the pot. Seating himself back across from Tobias, he ignored his own bloodshot eyes and the smell of desire on his breath.
Sighting loudly, he clapped his hands together. "Well, there's our meat pies!"
And a rather dusty woman brought them over, slapping them down onto their table roughly.
"No, Mr!" she laughed humorlessly into Andrew's face. "I 'aven't got rare meat pies! So don't ask me again! You eat 'em how I make 'em! You want steak tearateara you go to France-"
"Tar, tar," Andrew corrected wincing. "I was just wondering if you had anything-"
"With blood in it?" the woman mocked. "Blimey, you'll catch something. You'll eat 'em how I serve 'em!" She still muttered to herself as she shuffled off to the kitchen to make more overdone meat pies.
Andrew weakly shrugged as he jabbed his fork into his meat pie, suddenly feeling less of an appetite. Blood. It sounded so deliciously refreshing, he could hardly resist-
"I've been thinking that the coven needs a vacation," he interrupted himself. "Not that we work for our bread or anything like that"
Not that we work for our blood- bread- blead- He sighed with frustration.

[Tobias]

Tobias watched the man he knew as his friend return from his brief hiatus outside. He knew that Andrew could overcome the hunger, but under the stress Tobias seemed to notice in Andrew, he was unsure.

He noticed the bloodshot eyes and the irritability of Andrew and knew that he had not taken the chance to drain someone in the alleyway, some passing stranger who came there at the wrong time. He thought back to his own experiences, the hunger which he now knew to overcome, how it took a hold of his senses and drove him wild. And what of the horrors were committed when the ravenous thirst scorched his throat and the crimson liquid within mortal veins was the only cure. What people lost their lives to his hunger, and why now, of all times was he feeling regret? If he could only figure out-

The bringing of the meat pies and Andrew's corrections to the the barwoman interrupted Tobias' thoughts. And the mention of vacation distracted him more.

"Vacation? Why Andrew, that is one of the best ideas I have heard from you all night!" Tobias chuckled, drinking more from his mug.

[Andrew Baron]

"Someplace exotic."

Andrew's lips thinned as his cigarette smoke jolted with a quick breath. The pub around him by now filled with so much smoke from cigars, cigarettes, and whatever else one can possibly stuff into a pipe that the faces grew wispy, as if set behind dirty veils, and Andrew's refined accent grew dreamy.

"Someplace where the air smells like spices, where the women wear cinnamon and jasmine as perfume and whisper strange languages through the sheets.
I know that isn't your attraction to travelling, but it is most certainly mine (and maybe Adrien's, but we won't approach that subject- really, we won't go there.)

I never knew living forever could make me so restless. Do you ever feel that sometimes?
I wonder what America is like.
Or the Caribbean.
Or the Middle East.
I haven't seen any of these places.
We have forever. We might as well."

He stole the idea from a laughing group at a table next to them, and he glanced back at the English women behind them. With a shrug of his shoulders, he asked, "Tobias, I know this sounds very childish of me, but will you have a smoke with me?" He laughed rather loudly and tossed what he purchased onto the table in front of him. "You don't have to. I just thought it would be fun for Anabelle to smell it on you later and wonder what the hell you've been doing.

And afterward, I'm finding someone to book us a ship to anywhere- because we are going on vacation."

[lions_go_rawr]

"Andrew," Tobias said, looking down at the small bag the man across from him had thrown in his general direction. "Do you know what would happen if Anabelle smelt that on me when we get home?" Tobias knew he would not have one happy wife on his hands if the present situation worked out as Andrew wanted it to.

But Andrews colorful words about seeing the world got stuck in his mind. To see the rest of the world, shores unknown to Tobias' eyes.

...He could lighten up a bit...

But no, Anabelle would not speak to him for weeks on end. Tobias' mind battled on and on while he knew Andrew waited for an answer.

"'Nother pint?" He asked in a small voice, trying hard to hide the loud argument he was having in his mind.

[Andrew Baron]

"Ohh," Andrew laughed softly, his eyes narrowing with a teasing expression of reproval. "Does Anabelle think I'm a poor influence on your good, gentlemanly ways? I wouldn't want to get you into trouble, Tobias, of course not...
So I've devised a plan."

Dashing his cigarette into a stone tray nearby, he took several bites of his meatpie and waved off a nearby serving wench. No. He did not want the next pint that Tobias offered him. The blood scent still ran strong through the air around him, even through the thick, wafting smoke as he lit up a pipe.
"The plan is- you let go of your inhibitions right now and have a smoke with me. Then we arrive back home, I distract Anabelle (never you mind how) while you make yourself presentable. She'll never know.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen? We're not adolscents anymore. Those years were fun (wish we shared them together- but you would probably hate me now because I would've thought you were boring). But you and I are not schoolboys- no one is going to kick your arse for failing to behave respectably (and it is pathetic if you think Anabelle will).
Here."

And he shoved the pipe into Tobias' hands with eagerness, ignoring even the barroom brawl that broke out once more on the otherside of the pub. No. Making Tobias feel pressured was his top priority right now. Sadistic- but Andrew enjoyed getting him into trouble.

[lions_go_rawr]

Tobias pondered the situation before him.

He shut his eyes, and muttered one word: "Fine".

"Under some conditions. One: This is a one time thing. Two: You will not be distracting Anabelle is any way, shape, or form. I will take care of it all. Three: For the love of god, please make sure that I don't get too crazy. "

[Andrew Baron]

A sly grin.
"Alright. Fair enough." But Andrew didn't mean it.


Smoke billowed out of his mouth, nose, perhaps even eyes and he felt it immediately taking affect. Something gave Andrew the impression that Tobias never tried hashish before, and it entertained him. Andrew had, dozens of times perhaps throughout his life. He remembered the first time, thirteen, sitting on a slanted roof top with a boy from his uncle's village, choking on the smoke, dreaming of colors and adventures that made no chronological sense. Then a blank patch of memory. Then his friend's father dunking their heads into a bucket of water to wake them up...
He laughed under his breath as he viewed Tobias across from him. Oh yes, Adrien would be terribly jealous he did not accompany them tonight.

"You and I really should have grown up together. Wouldn't that have been fun? All of us, actually. The whole lot of us. I could have corrupted you much sooner."

[lions_go_rawr]

"It would have," Tobias said, nervously trying the substance and then choking on the smoke.
"How in the world can anyone do this? It burns..." His eyes started to water.

But he felt himself calming down. Slowly but surely, calming.
"You had a good childhood Andrew? I know you might have mentioned it before, but I don't think I was listening... Hey look, wait, what was I looking at?"

He burst into a fit of laughter.

"oh, Anabelle is going to kill me..."

[Andrew Baron]

Andrew stared at him, wide eyes, holding his own ground rather well, and an expression of horror dawned on his face.
It was an 'Oh, shit, what have I done' phrase from his mouth trailed off with an unsuppressed laugh. Tobias looked absolutely ridicu- riddiicul--reididculllus- Oh shit.

"She controls you- it's unbelievable. Anabelle and Sienna," Andrew offered whether or not anyone listened or took his unwanted advice. "-they both control... no one wants to be respectable like women expect- respec-respecte-respectable- it's terribly dull."

[lions_go_rawr]

"Since when did you have a stuttering prob-prob-problem..." Tobias said, pointing at his friend.
"I thought you were all gentleman and proper and all that load of crap. But dont get me wrong, being gentlemanly is cool. I like my gentlemanly ways. And being a gentleman is what some ladies prefer.

I would prefer a gentleman over anyone else. But I, my dear friend, are not of that orientation and prefer the lovely company of ladies compared to the sausage fest that is the pub down the street"

ooc: I KNOW I KNOW, they didnt use sausage fest back then, but I just had to say it