Another Day, Another Dull Topic [open]

[Enya Rose Belliveau]

368 Words

Enya Belliveau currently just wanting something Ah, yes, the Azalea Alliance. As much a home as Enya could dream of. It wasn't perfect by far, but it was better than any other vampire nest. Maybe she was biased. She could admit she had her biases. It didn't change the fact that her biases were objectively correct, but still. It was a rather quiet day in the nest, all told. She leaned back in her chair, idly fanning herself with a half-lidded gaze as she looked around. Not much to do, not much to see, no plans to put in motion... well, none that weren't already in motion, at least. Enya let out a soft sigh, adjusting her skirt and her position just so. She hoped someone would come talk to her soon; she was all but dying of boredom. The irony of death, indeed. Technically she had already died, and here she was, still around. The sole inheritor of her parents' estate and money. Of course she had to sell the estate, after a hundred years of keeping it with no issue from anyone who would like to cause trouble. But the sting had faded after a few decades, and her new house was pleasant. And designed moreso for a vampire. Few windows, and all of the windows with thick, heavy curtains to block the daylight. It was one story instead of two, as well, although it did have a basement where Enya kept her bedroom. But that was all besides the point. The point was that, today, Enya wanted socialization. There was a reason she was here, and it was talk to her... more-or-less equals. Some vampires weren't that, but the Azalea Alliance should be for the most part. They were steeped in tradition. Even if they did... silly things. Like the whole orphanage idea. Not every human deserved to become a vampire. Perhaps the closing of the orphanage was the one good thing about the war, but Enya hardly enjoyed the werewolves' win. She snaps her fan shut, eyes still scanning anyone who passes by. Come talk to me, she silently said. She wanted conversation, to see who was her ally still - and who was an enemy. interesting to do

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[Lucille Evi Vanderbilt]

After doing some research into the traffic of her bar, Lucille had determined which day consistently brought in the least amount of patrons, and subsequently shut down the bar that day of the week, just to give herself and the two other employees a day's break. It wasn't like the vampire had other shit to do, but it also was just painful to have to go to work seven days a week, even if she admits that she likes it more than any other possible job. 

When Lucille had returned to NOLA she settled in the only neighborhood she was familiar with. The Azalea vampires had welcomed her back more or less, some suspicious of her, some shocked that she was still alive after the rest of her family were staked and killed in the war, and others who just shrugged and went back to what they were doing. It was from one of these individuals in the last group that she "bought" a house for herself in the neighborhood. It felt only right, in a sense, because the house she had purchased was her old home, the one she, and everyone else in the family dating all the way back to the first Vanderbilt vampire Cornelius IV, grew up in. Despite her lack of care for the current Azalea and its present state she couldn't help but feel a little resentment that someone had the audacity to swoop in and just steal the property after so callously assuming all the Vanderbilts had died. 

So maybe she'd brought that up to the realtor, and maybe he'd cowered enough to give it to her for free. "Thanks for giving it back," she'd snarked, snatching up her keys and slamming the door in his face. It was a nice house, a quasi-mansion that was well-secluded and built for a vampire's lifestyle. Moreover, there was a hidden weapons room and evidently nobody knew about that because when she flipped the secret switch and took a look around inside, there were still a stockpile of weapons hanging along the walls, thick with dust from no use. There were locks on all the doors, and beyond the actually building, a gate that drew a radius of twenty feet between the house and the outside world. Perfect, for someone like her who didn't have any friends left and didn't care that it was that way. 

Unfortunately, that did mean that Lucille got bored often. The first few months of just laying around, passively exploring New Orleans alone (and avoiding the curious stares of those who knew her), and sitting on a giant inheritance was not very fun. Not like her life had been much fun, ever. And it was a little disquieting to have to adjust to all the tension between the species under this new blanket of "peace." Many of the vampires themselves were resentful, had become self-loathing former shells of themselves. Well, former shells of the shells of the humans they'd been. She had opened the bar in an attempt to relieve herself from boredom and the quietly developing shame of being technically unemployed, as well as to just try and create some place where people, including herself once again, could feel safe. Could have a chance at being happy. So far, so good. 

But, you know, now that Lucille had a job she was entitled to complaining about it even if she didn't dislike it. Ugh, people, am I right? Ugh, vampires, ugh, werewolves, ugh, other inhuman people. She'd missed the time she'd had to herself so she granted one day where she could have that. And now that she did, she once again did not know what to do. Since when did Lucille have plans? 

There was someone sitting outside, peering through a fan at the world beyond their house. Lucille heard the snap of the fan as the other lady vampire closed it, a sound that was loud only because Lucille had directed her attention there. The lady looked familiar; most did, because vampires lived quite a long time and never aged, so it was easy to recognize the same person after a while of not seeing them. Decades were seconds to the undead. "Enya?" Lu called out, feeling friendly for some reason now that she had put name to face. "Enya Belliveau?" 

Words: 719
Tags: Enya Rose Belliveau

[Enya Rose Belliveau]

The stranger's voice was music to Enya's ears. Someone interesting, someone fun... and someone familiar.

Enya stood, brushing off her skirts and smiling at the semi-familiar face and giving a rather broad and welcoming gesture.

"Back from the dead, are we, Ms. Vanderbilt?" the vampiress purred. All the same she allowed Lucille on to her own porch. She had... already known the woman had been back, actually, but decided it was best to allow the approach to happen on Lucille's terms. Last Enya knew, they had been on rather opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Welcome back home," she said in a rather genuine manner her voice quite warm. "I'm glad to see you survived the war." She tsked after that. "I've heard about your bar, actually, though I won't be visiting myself. Have you had much success with it?"

Enya tilted her head with interest, although caring about Lucille's bar was not nearly as genuine as the warm welcome. After all: Lucille was a fellow vampire. It wasn't the woman's fault she lacked grace and, er, class. She could still be genuine and comfortable with welcoming a fellow member of the Azalea Alliance home.

"If you'd like, we can sit inside, get more comfortable. I've restored the exterior of the place to look more-or-less like it did when it was first built, but the inside I've made sure to have all the modern conveniences." She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with some rather innocent mischief and her voice falsely conspiratorial. "Even for vampires, air conditioning is a godsend in the south.

[Lucille Evi Vanderbilt]

"Back from the dead, are we, Miss Vanderbilt?" Enya called back with a teasing lilt, and Lucille chuckled, shrugging. 

"Yeah, something like that." 

"Welcome back home. I'm glad you survived the war." Lucille didn't know if Enya knew that she'd basically hid from the war the entire time, but decided to let it go, unsure of whether it was an actual barb or just a redundant comment. "I've heard about your bar, actually, though I won't be visiting myself. Have you had much success with it?"

Lucille shrugged. "Depends on what your notion of success is." She rolled her eyes at the common response, given sarcastically. "I'm making good money, enough to support my life and more," she continued. "Haven't gotten into any trouble, haven't had someone come in and rob everything or smash everything to bits in a fit of drunken, hateful rage. So pretty successful. Overall." Though she managed to keep her voice cool, Lucille unconsciously crossing her arms, betraying her slow move towards defensiveness. It was no longer customary, nor did Lucille wager it was Enya's personal style, for Lucille to be enquired about her life without her prefacing that she even had one. Normally, people would've asked, how are you? What do you do? You own a bar, right? That's so cool, can I ask where is it and what is it like to own a bar? You know, courtesy remarks that should be made even if you know about what the person is famous for. Lucille didn't really want people to be so blatantly intrusive, but such was life for her. 

But Enya seemed interested, or at least pretended to be, so Lucille dropped her arms and tried to say some more. "Last Saturday we had live music from a band of teenage witches from the Lady of the Water coven. They're booked again for this weekend too, people liked them a lot. Robespierre Academy's also asking to rent out the whole place for a fundraiser," she listed off. "So it's doing well. Keeping me busy. Keeping people drunk." she smirked at her last comment, offering another shrug. Enya would probably judge her for having such a life; she had clearly stated she would not be associated with Lucille's bar, and good for her. Good for her for being the epitome of posh goth, or whatever her style was meant to be. It was kind of laughable, how much consideration people put into making a character of themselves. Or maybe her own efforts to remain detached were a form of conformity as well.  

"If you'd like, we can sit inside, get more comfortable. I've restored the exterior of the place to look more-or-less like it did when it was first built, but the inside I've made sure to have all the modern conveniences. Even for vampires, air conditioning is a godsend in the south." Enya eyed Lucille as she leaned closer. 

"Sure." Lucille smiled and nodded, approaching the house. One good thing about not taking life too seriously: you weren't afraid if near-strangers randomly invited you into their houses all of a sudden in the beginning of your conversation. What did it matter if she died? Some people in town would lose their beloved watering hole? "Interested to see your place, then. Modern and antique? I haven't put any effort it to make my home my own. Wouldn't want to drive away the ghosts of my ancestors." She took the steps up to the porch, waiting for Enya to stand up and let her in. "How are you, by the way? Been up to other things besides doing interior decor?"

Words: 568
Tags: Enya Rose Belliveau