☼ Lace - [open]

[patmeister]

---

☼ Lace. The heart of Times Square.

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex.
I know you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed. ♫ So Hott

Unlike many other strip joints around the city, Lace isn't overly glitzy. It is a small club, intimate with it's two dozen or so seats on the cabaret floor, and just one stripper pole. The clientele are very often repeat visitors on overly friendly terms with the handful of girls employed there. The lap dances come awful damn close to mimicking the real thing. Before 8:00 P.M. there is no cover, and for two and a half seasons out of four, the sun doesn't shine for a good half hour prior to the 8:00 P.M. cover charge cutoff.

Edward stood out in the street under Times Square's pseudo-daylight, flashing neon panorama, near cheek to cheek with one of thousands of hookers that walked those streets in an endless parade of flesh. He had his favored haunts -- those night spots pigeon-holed for bloodletting that easily crossed over into sado-masochistic edge play and fetishing. Few would ever have suspected him a full-fledged, card-carrying vampire though. It's like it's always the furthest thing imaginable in the human psyche, and so easy for a chameleon like Edward Holliday to simply blend in with the minions.

Do you play with your food before devouring it?

Following his tête à tête with the scantly dressed prostitute, the girl plucked a wad of cash right from her cleavage and offered him half, while the remainder was secreted away once again. Now there was a first. Unless he was the girl's pimp. Hard to say for sure though, what conclusions the average people-watching voyeur would draw. Edward didn't really have that classic pimp-look about him. No fur coat and five pounds of shiny gold jewelry rivaling the sparkly flash of Times Square. And yet he kissed the girl. Right on the mouth. Such a no-no for many a hooker. Ironic perhaps, but for most it was a personal thing, and while they didn't mind getting on their knees for a blow, a kiss to the lips was taboo.

Edward left the street, heading for the strip club where he slipped right in past the doorman and vanished into the little crowd within.

[†The Blood Countess†]

Pathetic. Is this what mankind has sunken to in order to find mindless entertainment and satisfy their urge to procreate? Sky blue eyes, hidden behind shades, tossed a venomous glare at the females dancing along the poles in provocative manners while men and other women watched with extreme interest. While Elizabeth had her "moments", if you will, she'd never allow herself to become nothing but a mindless sex toy for other's enjoyment. Perhaps the term "fuck meat" would suffice to describe those wretches better?

Silently, she took a seat at the bar and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, though, she didn't have full intentions of downing the entire drink. The alcohol content was very high, though her tolerance was too, but she did not want to have her senses dulled. Tonight, she had a target who would be mingling within the crowd of this sinful place, and her sights were dead on him. A lone werwolf, garbed in gothic-like attire, weaved through and sat down at a table with a few of his friends-the ones involved in her beloved's demise.

A sneer spread across her lips at the sight of them laughing and toasting to the gods-know-what. Their happiness will be short lived, of this, she assured herself; and calmly returned to sipping her beverage with thoughts of revenge on her mind. The slow and painful path to their demise just made those intentions all the more delicious...

[patmeister]

---

☼ Lace. The heart of Times Square.

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex.
I know you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed. ♫ So Hott

Strip clubs were the ultimate tease. All bark. No bite.

Down near the end of the bar he stood, more than a head taller and completely surrounded by a bevy of lovely cocktail girls in their skimpy thong get-ups. They were eye candy, though not meant to utterly detract from the live strip show. The girls at this particular joint were somewhat forward, too, never minding the touches of a few miscreant clients. It was all in good fun, afterall, and kept their cash tips on a high roll.

Edward had slipped an arm around the curvy hourglass waist one of them, only to get his slender white fingers tangled in the elastic of her thong. He drew her briefly close before letting her go again. By night's end, that entire wad of cash he'd been given by the hooker prowling the Square would be blown.. and not one cent of it on drinks, despite the two-drink minimum rule. Why he, above all others, had always been allowed to break the rule, was not a topic that ever seemed to arise. It was just the way it was.

Eventually the cluster of servers all dispersed, each with their loaded trays as they worked the floor, and Edward Holliday was left standing there, unmoved from the spot. Until now. He turned about and leaned right up against the bar's edge, lighting a cigarette from a red and white pack nestled in his shirt pocket. Dark eyes, dazzling in the colored overhead lights, were fixed with an almost obsessive intensity upon the current gal up on the stage who was in the throes of ripping her clothes off, piece by scintillating piece. Edward licked his lips between expelling grey-white clouds of smoke.. though doubtful for the very same reasons all the other men in the joint licked their lips.

Needless to say, he loved the tease game. In fact, he loved all sorts of games. Particularly those that wound up down in the bowels of some dank S&M dungeon and ended in bloodshed. Games that overran the boundaries and had no rules. Edward was a dangerous player. And he always.. won.

[†The Blood Countess†]

Elizabeth reached out a hand and tapped one of the scantily dressed waitresses on the shoulder. Without looking in her eyes, she handed her a note, and gestured towards the table where the werewolves sat. At first, she seemed to refuse, probably about to say she wasn't a "delivery" girl; but a venomous glare from those icy blue orbs made her obey immediately. What, did she expect a tip for that? Bitch. The note was put on the table, and the one nearest the item opened it up to read it. It only took them less than a minute to realize who it was from, but could not locate the whereabouts of the sender. They whispered to each other, confused, and paid for their drinks so they could slip out.

Soon, thought the ancient, your death shall be avenged and I will continue with the original plans you bestowed to me.

Drinks dealt with, the small group was preparing to leave. The hunt was about to commence for Elizabeth, and already her body was preparing for the soon-to-be slaughter. Another set of canines slid down, past the original ones in front, which ended in a sharp point. Eyes, once blue, had bled black; and the sunglasses were pushed up the bridge of her nose to hide the transformation from sight. However, before she could leave her seat, her concealed gaze looked towards the vampire eying the stripping female. So, her own kind had also taken pleasure in this place?

The vampiress sniffed a few times, nearly gagging in disgust at the stench of testosterone and estrogen clouding up the air, which was still heavy with alcohol and tobacco. Yet another reason for her not coming to these places-it was like a gas chamber. Elizabeth coughed a few times, unable to control one of her natural reflexes to the atmosphere. "Dammit," she hissed under her breath. When will those idiots leave the place?

[Blegh. Sucky post is sucky >_<]

[patmeister]

---

☼ Lace. The heart of Times Square.

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex.
I know you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed. ♫ So Hott

I can feel your stare.

His spellbound enchantment with the strip tease dance was briefly broken when he turned his attention aside to a woman down at the end of the bar. A woman in sunglasses, no less. If she'd meant to look inconspicuous that way, wearing shades at night, she was failing miserably. And after several moments a grin formed upon his maw.. slow like molasses. On top of that, he gave the woman a wink before turning his pale white face once again to the flashing array of colored lights upon the burlesque stage, where the current performing beauty was baring it all to an inebriated and cheering crowd of men. And not merely limited to the small table of wolfish fellows, men were dogs. All men. Even the dead men.

Edward didn't hunt here, though. Perhaps in part because he liked the little club and it's pretty employees.. liked them enough to allow them to go on living their meager lives, so long as much of it was spent entertaining him and his dark proclivities.

With one cigarette butt crushed out and left to smolder in the little tin ashtray, Edward lit up another right on the cusp. He was an obvious chain smoker. In a previous life he'd been a lot of things. And some things not so very nice, either.

In a rare break between shakers and stirrers, the pretty blonde bartender behind the bar slipped over toward the end of the counter where he stood, and boldly plucked the burning cigarette right from between his fingers. She took a long, slow drag on the end of it, expelling a cloud of smoke on an exhausted-sounding sigh. The woman was not very tall, but a pistol all the same. And after another two drags, she handed the man his cigarette back.

"When are you gonna marry me and take me away from all this?" she asked with a subtle grin.

"When are you gonna start supportin' your own habits?" Edward replied with a counter question. And the bartender, whose name was Ellie, made a gun of her thumb and index finger.. then shot him before blowing away the imaginary gun smoke off the tip of her forefinger.

[†The Blood Countess†]

The pounding music; the choking atmosphere; the constant chattering-this wasn't the type of environment The Countess preferred when hunting her prey. When will those fur-fags get their asses out of their chairs to leave this place? Her irritation became fueled thanks to that vampire staring at her followed by a wink. Her lips parted into a sneer; and the hand holding onto the glass cracked, which caused liquid to drizzle out onto her fingers. It's a shame that men like Vicious are a rare breed, she contemplated, the world would be a far better place. At least people wouldn't throw their dignity aside so easily. What happened to the vampire race being proud and noble?

The conversation caught her interest; and Elizabeth allowed her sunglasses to slide down the bridge of her nose to reveal the solid black eyes. Movement behind her stopped The Countess from speaking up. Her targets were leaving; it was time to exact her revenge.

"'ere," she slid the necessary amount to pay for the drink forward towards the bartender, stood up and shoved the chair back. Without another word, she slid off the glasses, and strode after the werewolves with purpose. It was easy to weave through the small crowds gathered in clusters. The front door was guarded by bouncers who let her out without a passing glance.

Her targets had run off down the street towards her right. Grinning ear to ear, she pursued.

[patmeister]

---

☼ Lace. The heart of Times Square.

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex.
I know you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed. ♫ So Hott

Ellie rounded up the cash left on the bar there, depositing it into the cash register on the counter behind it. The back wall was entirely covered in mirrors, giving the illusion that the space behind the bar was much larger than it truly was. It was surrounded by glass shelves and a very large assortment of glassware. Edward had been watching her in the mirror's reflection before his gaze shifted off to the left where the other woman seemed in a sudden hurry to run off. She didn't seem as if she'd enjoyed the dancers much. Pity that.

"Now where were we?" Ellie asked, materializing right in front of Edward again, as she leaned over the opposite side of the bar and snatched the red and white pack of Marlboros right from his shirt pocket. Evidently the pretty blonde was entirely unaware she was essentially getting chummy with a viper. One who could turn nasty on a dime and dole out the kiss of death. But for now, the vampire simply played along. He was neither hungry nor in a vengeful frame of mind just now.

"You were about to kneel at my feet and beg like a bitch."

The bartender lit up and reached to drop Edward's cigarette pack back into his shirt pocket, giving it a little pat against his rail thin chest. As if she were humoring him and his perverse sense of humor.

"In your dreams, Mr. Holliday," she grinned, enjoying the smoke while awaiting the next rush round of drink orders from the cocktail girls. The banter between them was nothing new, for he'd been coming to that same strip club for several years now. One might assume that Ellie felt safe around him. She might have even harbored a fantasy or two about him. Though she never broke her standing rule about not sleeping with the customers. And never would she.