Drag the Waters

For The Record 

 Lazarus was still under the instruction to remain within the limits of Lavender Heights - which was, quite frankly, fine with him. It was a comfortable balance between adventure and safety - there was a sense of independence without the risk of having to deal with any potential problems on his own. Not that he couldn't handle a certain degree of danger. He could still recall clips of his human life, the dangerous thrill of thieving and fighting men; he liked to think he could hold his own with such experiences under his belt, but then again, a mere vampire woman had kept him under her thumb for over a century. Where was the line drawn?

 At any rate, a record store sounded like a small piece of heaven. Music was Laz's greatest reprieve from strife, and there was just so much of it. This place had shelves upon shelves lined with new and used vinyls - there were the metallic CDs and even considerably confusing cassette tapes. He would stick with the records for the time being, particularly because this store had a nifty feature for them: if a customer desired to listen to a record before they bought it, they could put it on a well-loved Crosley Executive and listen to it through a pair of over-ear headphones.

 It was a quiet night at the store - the employees were kind enough but did well to leave him alone, likely thanks to his own unapproachable demeanor. He had wandered through the rows and gathered a stockpile of interesting-looking albums, and played through the likes of Willie Nelson and Chris Stapleton before dropping Pantera's "The Great Southern Outtakes" under the needle. Something about the album had struck him as familiar - maybe it would be a country album.

 He was very wrong.

 But... not disappointed. It was dark, and heavy, and loud. It was passionately furious and a far cry from Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain. He turned the volume up as much as he could, until it drowned everything else out, including the heartbeats from the warm bodies in the building. If anyone passed within a few feet, they would have no trouble hearing his jams of choice - his head even bobbed a little with the beat.

Mameha was reluctant to enter the record store. Trying new places was somewhat of an anxiety fest for her, especially for her inner beast. New sites and smells riled up the anxious beast. The musty smell of the old albums hit her as she toom a deep breath to calm herself.

Her almond eyes scanned the store as she entered, her feet taking her further inside of the shop but her heart remained fluttering. She looked over each genre slowly until she found one that seemed to satisfy her. Well manicured nails flipped through the albums until one caught her attention. Her fingers nimbly pulled the album from the row and her eyes interestingly scanned over the cover and back.

She appreciated the design of albums, especially from the 60s with the psychedelic patterns, bubbly letters and bright colors.

No, no. Not this one. She placed the album back as if it never even left its spot, and inched over to a new genre quietly.

Outfit ignore the earrings

She’d felt a metaphysical tug for some while, only acknowledging it once she had Edith Piaf’s Eternelle in hand. CD format, which was how she preferred her music for its convenience.


He was busy bobbing away to some music - truly, what a sight for a Vampire she’d first met while he was naked in the middle of the street - and she had no intention of interrupting. Initially, anywho.

Carmen’s gaze soon shifted to a shorter woman, the stench of animal strong from her. That was more than fine, they weren’t hostile imbeciles here like in other areas of town - with one or two exceptions - but it no less left her gravitating towards her Clutch member.

She stopped in Lazarus’ line of sight, facing the rest of the store with her chin lifted, indirectly asking for his attention. Carmen’s gaze shifted between him and the young Werewolf, counting the seconds it’d take for her to notice them. Her finger tapped repetitively against her CD.

What on earth Lazarus was listening to was beyond her, but it had her leaving a pace or two between them.

 Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized the familiar presence of another vampire - even the distinct smell of wet dog registered in the subconscious, but it was not until he caught sight of Carmen that he was pulled from his daze. He blinked at her a few times, following her gaze to another woman who pawed through the albums before her.

 He glanced back at his fellow clutch member uncertainly, lifting the needle off the spinning vinyl and lowering the headphones around his neck. He was mostly sure that Carmen was okay, a safe bet for trusting, but engrained paranoia certainly imposed its limits. Anyway, she had a somewhat intimidating air; she was a stoic and confident woman who seemed to be able to conquer whatever task she desired.

 Laz turned off the record player and replaced the vinyl in its sleeve, before removing the headphones from his person altogether and taking a few steps closer to the undead woman. "Evenin'," he greeted her in a low voice, his tone carrying a lilt of questioning as his eyes returned to the smaller lady that Carmen had seemed so intent on.

The smell hit her hard. She scrunched up her nose at the scent and tried her best to ignore it. It was usual to come across vampires in the city, so she didn’t think too much of it but boy, that smell. And it was strong. They must both be vampires.

Mameha didn’t bat an eye when the girl came in. She stuck to flipping through records and occasionally pushing her silver hair out of her face to keep an eye on them. But when she glanced up to move to a new genre, she found the male meeting her gaze. She paused and gave him a blank stare back. She was a peacekeeper. There was no need for her to get all riled up. She took a deep breathe and broke her gaze.

”Good evening Lazarus. Faring well?” she asked by way of greeting, eyes following the girl. Simply... tracking.

She eventually looked in their direction, vacantly staring at Lazarus. Carmen had no idea what to make of the look other than that it certainly wasn’t one of friendliness.

”I don’t know if you’ve ran into any creatures with Edvin,” Carmen told him under her breath. ”So would you like to come give her the official welcome to Lavender Heights with me?” A slight nod was given in the direction of the Werewolf.

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