city_limits Victoria Foxworth - Counsellor With Fangs
Avery should have asked for a bag of some kind. Instead, he had a small stack of tomes in his arms. It was not the weight which was the problem, but they kept shifting and moving about and sending little clouds of dust into his eyes. He wondered if vampires could have allergies.

Logan did not live too far from the Loop, but it was quite a trek going back downtown. Well, he had wanted a walk. He would have to get home soon and put something on that wound. What a night to have experienced a near-stake experience.

The vampire walked along the sidewalk; most of the buildings were close for the night, but some nightclubs and bars still remained open, the last stragglers of party-going catching cabs and kissing in the street. Avery expertly side-stepped them.

Victoria's purr was a quiet one. Her more nutritional variety of appetite had been satisfied and she now walked casually from her last choice of venue, sure to avoid any remaining stains of crimson around mouth, by way of a make-up mirror and appearance of fixing lipstick. With that done, the brunette knew that, for her, the night was still very much young. Daylight would not break for a fair while and her body clock was not nearly tired. Perhaps she should just go home and turn on the computer, but a vibrant unlife seemed preferable to a digital cyberlife, at this point.

The young man would have offered nothing to hold her interest, usually, but as he neared, her gaze could not help but be immediately attracted to a number of vampiric images upon the covers of what was carried. Victoria's interest in the undead had not waned since joining their legions. On the contrary, it had only gone from strength to strength, with the only aspect of disinterest being that she no longer had any need to fantasise about what it would be like to become one. She now knew precisely what it was like to have fangs and prided herself on the fact.

And even as the one carrying those books was about to drift by, the brunette's attention stayed upon those tomes, eyebrow raised with intrigue.

A passing taxi full of laughing patrons drove too close to the curb next to Avery and a splashing of day-old rainwater had Avery jumping, shifting the books away to protect them. They did not belong to him, after all and seemed quite old. As his gaze swept back forward, he caught sight of the dark-haired woman. His mouth twitched a bit as he struggled to place her; she looked quite familiar. Instead, the image of an elegantly-made business card cropped into his mind. Why, she looked exactly like Victoria Foxworth, silver screen vampiress.

Avery's expression was admiring, until he remembered this was the one who had spoken to Francess. He frowned, hitching the books higher up to rest against his chest. The male vampire wondered vaguely if she had noticed his curious glances.

Under other circumstances, this might have seemed terribly romantic. Stolen glances and all that. Victoria had slowly come to an absent-minded halt, with just enough alcohol clouding her thoughts to make sure the brunette was in one of those light-hearted, floaty sort of moods, which could sometimes muffle more rational thoughts. By the time she came to realise his body language, reflective of someone who took exception to something, Vicky spoke a soft, "Oh," following up with an apologetic, "sorry, didn't realise I was staring."

It was said with a gentle flailing motion of hands at wrists and momentary bunching of shoulders, into a small shrug. She was looking at his face now and blinked as she had said it. Victoria, of course, had no recollection of him, personally.

He startled a bit when she spoke, even though she had been looking right at him as she did so. "Do you know a girl named Francess?" He blurted out. OK, maybe that had not been the best tactic. It was better than the requisite, 'Say, are you a movie star...?' At least, in Avery's mind.

It was just that he did not know how dangerous Victoria was. She seemed too demure and classic to be a slaughtering-rampage type, but that did not matter. She could kill with grace and subtlety, just as his own maker had. He just did not like to think of Fran' being in danger and added a smile to let her know he was not looking for a fight.

Victoria was not too different to the other vampiress he had met during that recent festival. She had matured in the year between Las Vegas and this; was less likely to back down from a challenge and did not comically fluster so easily as before. Nevertheless, she did not go seeking combat. Victoria rather enjoyed keeping a status quo, where possible. It was why she had even attempted to keep the proverbial peace between a Slayer and her own fanged maker. Did not last, of course, but still, she had tried.

"Francess, Francess... Oh, Francess!" Vicky said, looking a little startled, as she recalled the owner of such a unique name. "Well, I met one, lately, yeah. Young, kinda' cute, a little nervous with strangers, dark hair? Has this kind of exotic look about her?" She asked, fishing for clues. "Yeah, I met a Francess just like that, the other day. You know, the festival? I thought a face like that'd be cool to have in one of my films."

A finger extended into the air and she gave a friendly smile, dipping head. Clearly, a clarifying introduction was in order. Not everyone looked for fresh cinematic talent, after all.

"Victoria Foxworth...! Director, writer, actor... Y'know!"

Avery's smile widened at Victoria's description of Francess. "Yeah, that's her." Then, "She's a good friend of mine and I just wanted to make sure she wasn't in any danger from you. No offence."

He shifted the books to one arm and held out his free hand for Victoria to shake.

"I know, I recognize you. I enjoyed your film, although it was a bit... Sensual, wasn't it? I'm Avery."

Victoria's smile froze and then began to wane, a little, upon hearing his reason for speaking with her. Talk about passive-aggressive... Although his fears were justified, the way he had phrased them was effectively telling Victoria that she was suspected of potentially murdering the girl and that he was going to protectively look out for her. She could almost hear the 'so, there' being insinuated by it.

"Um... Yeah," she replied, now in two minds as to whether to take that hand, but doing so for the sake of politeness, even if her mood was now largely dampened. "So was 'Interview With The Vampire'. I was trying to do one better, artistically."

OK, so, her own actually had a lesbian sex scene in it, but the editing had made sure it was... Well, fair enough, 'tasteful' was probably too suggestive a term, but it was leagues above crude pornography. Most of the raw footage had been cut out, for length, in any case - although she was considering an extended edition. Some of it was even a few minutes of reshot stuff, specifically for close-ups. Regardless, the majority was a very intricate journey into what it meant to embrace vampirism, itself. The conclusion, where the heroine actually got turned during that sexual encounter, was a severe departure from the book, but that was the benefit of being able to label something a 'loose' adaptation.

Besides which, transplanting it to the contemporary age, more than did that, by itself.

In Los Angeles, a vampire known as Angel had once commented, at an opera, that he could spy a vampire on sight. Quite whether or not this was an instant natural gift to all of them, Victoria was certainly the type to have sought to discover and refine such an ability, if she could at all help it. Either because of that or detecting the scent of undead flesh, she now chose to voice that suspicion, with a casual tucking of errant hair behind ear.

"You should be a better judge, than most, of whether I succeeded, given what we both are..." A reserved glance down at the books, again. "History lessons?"

Avery shook her hand, then pulled it back to steady the lopsided volumes. "Oh, yes, yours was loads better than anything Anne Rice could have produced. I just meant, well, I'm not used to such things," he shrugged.

He nodded eagerly. His worry lessened about her danger to Francess and the star-struck feeling was slowly taking its place. "What, these? You could say that. I'm just trying to brush up on some of the facts, a little independent research."

One of the young men who stayed in the same hotel as Avery had suggested some place called 'Wikipedia', but apparently it was on the Internet. Uncharted territory for the blue-eyed vampire.

Victoria's expression slightly warmed at the complement. "Thanks," she accepted. "The weird thing is, I was never able to really get into her books, but I loved that film. Her stuff can be kind of... Depressing, y'know? But a death compelled her to write the first, I think, so..."

With the subject of vampirism being discussed, however, the brunette's interest surfaced in a more critical fashion and she reached out a hand to thumb through some of the spines, taking note of the titles. "Got that, that, that... Never heard of that... Oh, that one's kind of sensationalised... Ugh, who suggested this one? They got the dates totally wrong, in there! Ooh, this one's good, though..." And so it continued, until she came to a conclusive sort of nod, complete with prim little, "Hm."

With that in mind, she met his gaze and frowned.

"I had a thing about vampires, way before I became one - found out all I could, but... What's your research for?"

Avery looked taken aback at first, then an amused smile crept slowly across his face as he watched her thumb through the titles. He paid attention to the ones she dismissed. "A former Watcher lent me these," he told her, smiling.

Then, his expression turned embarrassed and he gazed down at her shoes. They were much more interesting than his and looked quite expensive. Movie star stuff. "I'm trying to solve a little problem I have. Well, it's not so much a problem, as it is a mystery."

Victoria looked about herself. She was not nearly so... Territorial as many of her kind were. It was to do, she had once concluded, with how she had once idolised all vampires, as a concept. Although becoming one and seeing how many acted, had done much to alter that idealised image, it had given her something of an activist's mentality. Even after being responsible for the staking of her vampiric 'sister', who had insulted and pushed and threatened to do precisely that, to her, Victoria had been quite shocked by it and even felt a little sad. So, yes, she could play counsellor to an apparently disaffected member of the undead, but this was probably too public a place to do so.

"In here," she gestured to the nearest wine bar. "Unless you preferred somewhere else? Don't worry about the books, honey. We can say it's a joint-project," she excused with a wink.

Avery looked between Victoria and the wine bar. On one hand, it would be terribly exciting to sip wine and chat with her, even if it was about his little peculiarity. On the other, though, he had no identification and unfortunately looked more suited to the environment of a high school classroom. But, he supposed, they would cross that bridge when they came to it and found himself following the brunette toward the establishment.

"This will work."

He felt more at ease around Victoria. Whether it was because she was another vampire or because he had just nearly died and talking to women seemed less daunting, compared to that, he was unsure.

"Good," the accompanying vampiress spoke over shoulder, asking if he would like anything in particular. Not that the sort of food and drink reserved for the living really did anything for them, taste-wise, but some things had a stronger alcoholic kick to them, than others.

With her taking care of ordering for both, they made their way over to a relatively empty table, complete with soft, leather couch, over in the corner. Victoria was a graceful type, most definitely priding herself on retaining femininity. Her very feeding habits depended on seduction, if nothing else. She often espoused the difference between fashion and style, always striving to epitomise the latter over the former, wherever it would seem possible. One was timeless. The other was not. The surface would also give him a place to put that educational cargo down upon.

"So," she began, crossing one leg over the other and raising a cocktail glass to lips, "where should we begin?"

Avery set his newly-acquired glass of wine wine and the books down on the table. He settled down where he could face her, the proximity a reasonable one. After all, they could both hear one another over the din just fine. He took a small sip. Had not imbibed in years.

"I'm not sure where to begin." Perhaps that was because he was usually getting punched or taunted by the others of his kind before he could even start explaining, with the exception of Rose and Victoria. Best to just keep it simple. "I don't like to kill people," he told her simply. "I know it's for sustenance, but even then... It just doesn't sit well with me and I have no idea why." He then took another, bolder drink of spirits.

Victoria froze in mid-sip. Eyes went wide and her expression immediately formed into one of the utmost sympathy. "Don't... Like to?" She repeated, only to adopt a look of sadness in receipt of the confirmation. "Oh, I... I don't know what to say! I'm so sorry, honey..."

Leaning over, Vicky took one of his hands between her own and gave the palm a quick squeeze of solidarity. The poor dear couldn't... Oh, but this was terrible! In vampire terms, it was most surely the equivalent of finding oneself suddenly impotent!

"I mean, I've heard it's meant to happen, once you gain a few hundred years or so... The challenge supposedly loses the thrill, but... Oh, Avery! You poor, poor thing!"

Avery's eyes widened as he took in her expression of sympathy. Well, it was better than disdain, he supposed. "Yes, but... I've never liked it," he said gently, as if easing the fact onto her. "And I'm trying to figure out why."

He had not the heart to correct her and say that not enjoying murder was a good thing, in his proverbial book. He had a feeling that sympathy would have been quickly retracted, so, instead, he took another gulp of wine. The vampire would need a new glass soon.

"You... Oh, wait - never?"

Victoria's heartfelt sympathy made a tectonic shift to outright confusion, because such a thing was a complete novelty to her. There were different degrees of murder, of course, but to be completely apathetic about it, at best? What was up with that?

Rearing head back, she made with an, "Oh." Then, as if trying to solve a new kind of puzzle, cocked head onto one side, eyes glancing down to sweep across the floor, as though it would in some way provide the answer being sought for. When none came, she slowly sat back on the couch and brought one hand up to head, scratching at scalp through hair.

"Well, I'll tell you something for nothing," she advised with an honest shrug of feminine shoulders, "you won't find the answer in any of those." A downward gesture of head was nodded at the books. "I've read just about everything there is... In fact, I'm actually writing my own. There's variations on our theme, of course - none of which I think really classify as our species, strictly-speaking. But if there's one constant? It's hunger. The need. The, uh, you know... Urge. I've heard some rumours about one who've supposedly had their souls woken up - and, personally? I've never even been sure about that theory. But, anyway... Even those ones, I've heard still feel the temptation to feed. I really don't know what to say, Avery... Did something weird happen when you got turned? Your maker piss off someone who could curse you, maybe?"

Avery lifted his empty wine glass up as a waitress walked by. The waitress nodded and went back to the bar to get him another and he turned back to Victoria. "Oh, I'm hungry alright, but I just turn to non-human sources, instead." He shrugged. "It's not that big of a sacrifice for me, to tell you the truth."

It was like when his mother had first convinced him to give up soda. Well, not a good example, because nowadays he found himself drinking it more frequently again. "The only weird thing which happened, was that I got turned. I was devastated! It was the worst thing that ever happened to me," he told her emphatically. "I kept trying to tell myself it wasn't real."

All of a sudden, it seemed to click into place. The entire thing. Weird, really, especially since, for all that Victoria knew, he could have been like this for a few hundred years or so. Still, she had spent the better part of both her life and unlife, exploring vampirism and all there was to do with it. She was also one of the rare ones who had been able to keep her fetish from veering into an overly strange preoccupation, although that was mostly to do with her finding much in the way of vampiric lifestyles and venues to be depressingly superficial.

"Wanna' know what I think?" She said, turning foot up at the ankle, before letting it drop again. "You're thinking of this as a vampire thing," she spoke, pointing to teeth. She then moved that finger to the side of temple. "What you should be doing, is treating this as a mind thing... You'd be surprised at just how far-reaching the placebo effect can go. I've seen human beings able to lift up cars without any trouble, just to rescue their baby. They don't have any memory of it... They just do it. Sounds to me, like you've convinced yourself you're something wrong... And that being wrong is kind of wrong, in itself. Mind over matter, babe. Some people bend spoons? Well, sounds like you bent your entire reality!"

With her theory laid on the line; that it was a psychological, rather than demonic, problem, Victoria took a renewed swallow of her glass and placed it down on the table.

"You're like... Some religious guy who doesn't dare look at women, 'cause it feels 'wrong' to see so much as an inch of them uncovered. Except your thing's death and blood, rather than skin. Am I right?"

He brought the second glass of wine to his lips, contemplating what Victoria was telling him. And it made sense. In fact, he had done this before, even in life. Convinced himself he had various physical ailments, even though the family doctor had determined nothing was wrong with him. A psychosomatic, they had called him. Avery thought they were accusing him of making it all up. It had all seemed very real to him, he could feel every symptom.

The male vampire set down his glass. "I think you might be right," he told her in resignation.

"Yeah, well... Now you're at a crossroads. Wanna' carry on the way you are or be all you can be? You know what they say; the first step in dealing with a problem is to acknowledge it. Personally, I don't think there's much point in being what we are, if we can't learn how to enjoy it. Give me liberation over repression, any day of the week."

Victoria had no reason to lie. Just as she had no reason to admit the very wine she was drinking, did very little for her, taste-wise. The only thing which had any flavour, whatsoever, was blood or other fluids from the living. Vicky was still trying to work out why that should be the case, for their species, but considered it as probably having something to do with the mystical bond to life, itself. The same reason for why drinking the congealed crimson-turned-black from a day-old corpse, was practically stomach-churning, even though, by rights, it should provide more or less the same level of nutrition.

And she was being honest here, too. Honest, but not to the point of indoctrination. She found him an oddity, but if he preferred not to go down the road which every natural impulse should, long ago, have been screaming at him to take up, then so be it. One less competitor.

"Here," she suggested, fishing out the same business card she had given to Francess, too. "Those're my contact details. You decide you're in the mood to try and embrace what you are? Give me a call. I'll be, like, you're counsellor with fangs or something..."

Avery took the card from her and it was, indeed, the same as Francess had excitedly shown him. "OK," he said. Nothing more, nothing less. He did not expect to ever want to be a bloodthirsty animal, but she seemed to be a good sounding board. After all, her theory was much more logical than any he had heard or came up with, thus far.

"Thank you," he told her, earnestly. "And I look forward to reading your book when it comes out."

"Hmm, signed copy, just for you," she teased with a wink and a smile. "Don't bury your head in the ground for too long... That's where dust ends up."

Victoria's way of telling him not to squander eternal life, now that it was theirs to enjoy. Going on an unlife-long search for existential possibilities tended to wrap just about any mind, be it human or vampire, up in knots. Waggling a little wave goodbye of fingers, the brunette raised herself back up to feet. A murderess, certainly, but no beastly animal, was she. Except maybe in bed, but that was a far more delicious kind of viciousness.

"Toodles!"