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 Charity Extravaganza, @ Belda/Kenzie
Lawrence Benoit
 Posted: Apr 21 2017, 10:31 PM
90 posts
puppeted by J-Chan
N/A
Mountain Standard time N/A
job
Neurosurgeon
species
Vampire
group
Valdit Nest
sexuality
Heterosexual
status
Single
age
514
mature
N/A
Maybe you think you that can hide I can smell your scent for miles
N/A
Nobility



It was another night of extravagance; all of the high uppity ups would be there, flinging their cash around at this charity event for children. It didn’t really matter all that much who the event was for – the rich folks would head there and support them, if only to impress other rich people and make a name for themselves. That’s not why he went to these things, though. Wasn’t there to rub shoulders or elbows with these types of people, and try to get in their good graces. The vampire went to these things because he liked children, but he’d been robbed of the ability to have any of his own a long time ago. Was a little happiness too much to ask for? Apparently; vampires weren’t supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be the monsters from the nightmares parents told their little young ones before bed each night. Or, at least, that was what he had heard, anyway.

Monster or not, Lawrence wasn’t here to feed on any man or woman at any rate. He’d already fed tonight, plucking some hapless person off the street and wooing her until he fed on her, and then sent her on her merry way. Perhaps it was not the best method of procuring a meal, picking people off the street at random, but it had suited him for quite some time. Immensely better than jumping from the shadows like he used to – or said one certain vampire, who shall remain nameless. He highly doubted he’d ever make a proper vampire in the eyes of that older gent, but at least he wasn’t starving himself any longer. There was a bright side to everything, and Lawrence was ever the optimist. Given immortality – and a ton of heartache – a vampire needed to have a little optimism in this world. Vampirism wasn’t meant to be glamourous, but it wasn’t without its perks.

The event wasn’t too far from his place in the North Western part of the city, a few blocks at most, which made choosing to come tonight all the more easier. Still, he favored taking a cab rather than just walking there, not wanting to must the clothes that he wore. Seemed a little faux pas to arrive via cab, but he wasn’t the only one that was taking a cab to this thing. He’d spent the last twenty minutes after he came here watching as more people filed out of taxis, looking prim and proper in their expensive evening wear. Okay, so this event wasn’t supposed to be super glamourous, he’d noticed; it was for children, after all. He wasn’t sure what his mind meant by that remark, but heh. After about thirty minutes, Lawrence straightened his dark grey suit jacket and went into the party.

Once inside, he snatched up a glass of sparkling champagne – rose tinted – and brought it to his lips as he walked. On the stage they had set up, there was a small orchestra with all of their thousand-and-some dollar instruments; bows stringing across the strings, flutes and woodwinds being blown into, and percussion as well. A nice little upbeat tune was played in hopes to lighten the spirits of the patrons within. No one looked too doom and gloomy, he’d noticed, but they were enjoying the music anyway. Some of them were dancing, even, while others opted for chatting in small groups away from the dancers. And others, still, were watching as other people danced. He’d say there were a hundred or so people here, perhaps more than that would show up a little later. It was still relatively early in the evening, and he didn’t think the bulk would show up until about seven or so.

There were trays of hors d’oeuvres being passed around by serves, which he declined all of them when a tray happened to be shoved in his face. Food was a thing of the past, and about the only thing he missed from his human years – that, and of course, the family from which he’d been taken. Valentina was not kind in removing him from his moderately happy existence – nor was she in the following years, making him a slave to her will and forcing him to watch as she violated his sister. How he hated her; the only solace he had about that whole thing was that perhaps one day she’d come here, and he’d get the chance to stake her himself. Or even, that she had been picked off already by some hunter. The latter was highly unlikely, but preferred, at the end of the day – he didn’t need a death drawing attention to him.

Ah, well. There wasn’t much he could do about it now. Even with feeling her presence like sirelings could, he couldn’t really say where she was at the moment. The woman was notorious for changing cities rather quickly as she was never one to settle in one place for too long. That thought gave him comfort because perhaps she had been here, and already left. But he doubted that rather highly. He’d have sensed her for certain if she had happened by his little corner of the world. Taking another sip of champagne, he was rather relieved when someone beautiful happened next to him – a woman – one that wasn’t too far off the type he preferred. He gave her a smile, and greeted her, saying, “Good evening to you, madam. I’m Lawrence Benoit. Might I be so bold to inquire your name?”
PMEmail
^
Belda DeRosier
 Posted: May 6 2017, 11:07 PM
41 posts
puppeted by Kenzie
Bel
EST She/her
job
Brand Consultant, Sugar baby
species
Siren
group
Seelie Court
sexuality
Pansexual
status
Single
age
382
mature
Bring on the debauchery
...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.
N/A
This Isn't Love




Oh, charity fundraisers, the excuse to get dolled up while endeavoring to make all the concern for whichever cause the event was being held for appear sincere. Although it was much easier to conjure up sincere concern when children were involved, the little things with wide innocent eyes. Of course it also helped that society had deemed them precious beings, representative of their future as a society. As if there weren't beings who'd seen the rise and fall of societies and still continued on living in the world. Belda may not have been the most motherly individual but even she wasn't completely apathetic towards children. Though to truly be fair the siren would have been attending the fundraiser regardless of the cause it was for. Her objective for the night was reputation, maintaining the good one she'd built over the years and staying visible among the wealthier potential clients. Rubbing elbows and making connections, dancing about important circles and smoozing. Along with bolstering the reputations of a few clients, ensuring they were present and acting appropriately. It really wouldn't do to have her clients tarnishing the work she'd already done for them and this would ensure the work the siren did would be continued into the future. Of course, the charity fundraiser was for a good cause and would justify attending but Belda had always been much more focused on taking care of those that she knew and cared about over strangers. The people close to her heart would always hold a much higher priority than the faceless mass of individuals these types of fundraisers attempted to champion.

A small drawback of the event being for children meant that a slightly more conservative and modest appearance would be needed. It would come off as distasteful and make her presence appear disingenuine. Which wouldn't do at all. Propriety would dampen some of the enjoyment the siren normally got from looking dressing up, requiring her to use restraint on not only her choice of dress but also jewelry. So Belda had found a modest enough dress, tasteful enough for a fundraiser aimed at children but still flattering and extravagant to match the company she'd find at the event. A balance she wasn't unaccustomed to, but tended to be more satisfied and better enjoy the whole experience of getting ready for and attending events where that wasn't required of her. Belda supposed for the children she could play at some modicum of modesty.

Like many events, regardless of their distance from her apartment, Belda would get a driver. It wasn't even a decision really, setting up with the chauffeur company she often used was just as much part of her routine to get ready as doing her makeup. Why bother with a valet parking and having to retrieve her car the next day?

Belda would arrive with the majority of people, filing from cars and into the event. Familiar and strange faces filtering through the crowd. The siren would largely ignore the orchestra and the dancing patrons, othering than acknowledging that they played well and were a much better option than a sound system. But it was a bit unsurprising the effort had been put in to get live music - it was for the children after all. The more people enjoyed themselves, the more likely they were to spend larger amounts. Rather than spend her time dancing Belda was socializing, talking up familiar faces from both her business and social lives. This was her reason for attending and Belda was incredibly effective at rubbing elbows while appearing much more sincere, as if the charity support was her main reason for attending. The siren was catching up with those she hadn't seen in her normal glamour in a while, having attended some of the same events with them but not as herself.

She'd float through a few clusters of individuals, pleasant conversation and compliments falling from her lips easily. These events were exactly her cup of tea, or rather glass of champagne. All dressed up and playing among the social elites, bettering her business and reputation. It lifted her mood back to where it normally would be at any other extravagant event. Belda would waive off the hors d'oeuvers with a polite smile, not wanting to risk bad breath. It wouldn't be too long before the conversation Belda was currently in would bore her as topics turned towards family and baby stories, apropos for the event but uninteresting to her at the moment. An empty glass would offer her an easy and effortless out to the conversation and Belda would discard her glass for a new one from a passing waiter as she made her way towards a quieter area. One where the blonde would be able to evaluate the room and consider whether she'd remain business like or simply enjoy herself for a while. Noticing an attractive blond on his own had her decision leaning towards personal enjoyment. The dark grey suit was a wonderful touch, fitted perfectly and stood out from the predominately black suits worn by most of the male patrons. He didn't appear to be searching or waiting for anyone; perfect.

With her mood raised even more Belda closed the distance between them, easily navigating through the few individuals in between them until they were close enough for polite conversation. Well maybe a little closer than was needed, but propriety had hampered her night enough already. The smile had already been present as Lawrence noticed her presence and began to introduce himself. "A better evening now Monsieur Benoit." She commented before offering her hand in greeting, an excuse for the closeness if he cared for propriety more than she did. "Belda DeRosier. It's a pleasure to meet you, I only regret that you aren't a familiar face. Are you often attending fundrasiers?" Her inquery was genuine, even at events Belda normally donned a different glamour she couldn't recall seeing Lawrence. Or perhaps he was part of whatever organization this was benefiting?
PMAIM
^
Lawrence Benoit
 Posted: May 8 2017, 09:10 PM
90 posts
puppeted by J-Chan
N/A
Mountain Standard time N/A
job
Neurosurgeon
species
Vampire
group
Valdit Nest
sexuality
Heterosexual
status
Single
age
514
mature
N/A
Maybe you think you that can hide I can smell your scent for miles
N/A
Nobility



The music was largely enjoyed by the vampire as he slipped through the crowd, staying on the outer edge so he wouldn’t bump into anyone. It was a good turnout, he noticed, and it was clear that there would be a good turnout as far as donations went as well. He himself had donated to the charity before, and had every intention of doing so again tonight. Eventually he would cross the floor and hand over a check for five-thousand dollars – a meager amount, he knew – but every contribution mattered, no matter the amount. And this wasn’t one of those events where a minimum was required. Any amount would do – even if it was just five dollars, but given the crowd within the building, he thought there would be a lot of deep pockets at this thing. One would think, anyway.

Lawrence paused on the outer part of the crowd, his eyes watching the orchestra as they began a tune he had heard a time or two before. It was from the movie Titanic he knew, but he couldn’t tell anyone the exact name of the piece they were performing. A lively, upbeat tune to quell the nerves of the crowd, if there were any. There was always some kind of music at these things; its purpose was to quell the crowd, and make them feel welcome. Lawrence didn’t know if it had either effect on him, if he was being honest. Perhaps the music calmed him in the way a soothing voice might soothe a beast – immensely bad analogy, but it was true. Anyone who knew anything about vampires knew that they were monsters. Murderers and kidnappers of young women – or some kind of shit like that. He wasn’t up to speed on the whole monster thing of present day.

More trays of appetizers were passed up, but he did place his empty champagne glass on a passing tray and grab another one that was filled with the same kind. Sipping at it with lesser vigor, he fell back into his trek around the crowd. He wasn’t searching for anyone, and he didn’t know if there would be anyone here from the hospital. Was always a possibility, he knew, but unlikely. Lawrence didn’t know if nurses would qualify to be allowed to attend something like this. Still, this event was for everyone. Hardly anyone wasn’t invited. There were types to look out for that might be denied entry – if nothing else than to keep the riff raff out. Drug dealers, junkies, other bad types, for example.

For once his mind was on something other than blood and keeping himself sated. For once he could slip through the crowd and not be tempted to bite into someone’s neck. It’d been a while since he had that. Years, even. Proper feeding kept him from attacking anyone, and he could even do his job more efficiently now. It was a good thing, and one that would remain part of his life from now on. His biggest issue was that he didn’t want to put a kind of burden on one of his nest mates – a burden that would result in the end of his life as he knew it. It came down to feeding properly or being staked, and Lawrence chose the one where he would be alive. Obviously, right? It was a hard concept for him to understand that feeding didn’t necessarily mean he had to kill in order to get fed – something he had his sire to thank for; chaulked up to be just another reason that made him want to see her dead.

No matter; tonight was about socializing and meeting people he had never met before. That was something he liked about the city: there was always a face within the city limits that he had never met. More people were moving here or passing through here on their way to another part of the country.

The appearance of the blonde female was refreshing; she was someone he would have remembered meeting, he was sure of it. He noticed a bit of a French accent that clung to her words, and that alone made him smile. It’d been ages since last he visited his homeland. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss DeRosier, certainly. It is refreshing to see someone I’ve not run into before, so in that I agree with you.” There was a bit of a French accent that clung to her last name as he spoke it. “I noticed your accent… Are you originally from France or did you just live there for a time?” He went on, although he gave her time to answer before continuing, “I was born and raised in Mâcon, but that was quite a long time ago.” He laughed a bit at that.
PMEmail
^
Belda DeRosier
 Posted: May 18 2017, 12:43 AM
41 posts
puppeted by Kenzie
Bel
EST She/her
job
Brand Consultant, Sugar baby
species
Siren
group
Seelie Court
sexuality
Pansexual
status
Single
age
382
mature
Bring on the debauchery
...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.
N/A
This Isn't Love




The touch of the live orchestra was appreciated despite the fact that the siren was largely ignoring the music. In fact its pleasantness was part of what allowed her to push the music towards the back of her mind in order to better focus on the people around her. Live orchestras were much more soothing on her ears than a sound system, and in her opinion allowed the players to show off and demonstrate their skill much better than a simple recording could. Of course spending years in courts with live performers long before audio recordings were an option may have coloured her opinion. It may have cost the organizers more money, but the orchestra would be able to grease the deep pockets in attendance easily. People who were enjoying themselves would donate more, even if it was a familiar song being played.

Upbeat music for the energetic greetings. It would also help with the mood of those who viewed these kinds of events are a chore to done, who underestimated the amount of opportunities an event like this could open up. Benefitting a reputation, publicity, and rubbing elbows with the influential and elite of the day. It was nothing to worry over for Belda, she’d mingled with aristocrats and nobles throughout the years and even witnessed their decline. Comparatively to societal and propriety rules of decades passed the fundraisers of present day were easy to navigate. Of course there were most likely also people who didn’t frequent these events sprinkled in, ones who were motivated by the charity that was being benefited rather than the social opportunity. Or perhaps those who worked with children, supporting their occupation and the charity but unused to the present company. The social rules may have become more lenient but they were still there, as was the distinction between the classes. Undoubtedly posturing would make it worse as well. Luckily none of that behaviour phased the siren, easily fitting into those of higher society and being warm enough to not cow those who were not. Cowing them would be bad for business and her reputation. Besides Belda was attending as herself, and not some pretty little bauble on the arm of someone in need of posturing and flaunting their status.

Conversations were easy to slip into, whether it was a familiar face that had caught her attention or a prominent name she had recognized and made the effort into the conversation. Warm greetings and Belda was immediately charming and ever the social butterfly. This was what the night was primarily about, charming and building her social network. Making new connections with those she did not already know and maintaining her current connections. It wouldn’t do to have her knowledge of the people around her out of date. Truthfully the charity mattered little to the blonde siren as it was acting as more of a backdrop and excuse for the whole affair than any kind of motivation. Sure she would donate a healthy amount to it, but mostly out of her own self-interest.

However, every one deserved a break from their work. Especially if that break was taking the shape of a handsome stranger who appeared to be alone. An absolutely delightful break when her name was pronounced properly by Lawrence, which had her estimation of him rising. So often Belda found Americans unable to quite grasp the phonetics of her name and had grown used to dulled version of her surname despite her refusal to speak her name with the accent she’d adopted in her time in America. “It is also incredibly refreshing to hear my name pronounced properly.” The smile that Lawrence drew out with the simple act of pronouncing her name properly was delightful and charming. As sincere reflection of her response.

“I was born and raised in France for my youth before travelling with my father and sisters.” She confirmed with a fond smile. Belda may have made a home for herself in San Francisco but there was nothing that would be able to beat the fondness that she had for her homeland. She preferred it even to the fae realm, something that was mostly evident by how far between her trips there were – and they were only ever to see family. “That’s just north of Lyon?” It was half a question and half a statement pulled from her recollection and offered with a smile. From what she could recall, Belda didn’t think it was a large city but that very well may have changed in recent decades. “I was born in Marseille myself. When did you make the trip across the pond?” She asked, eyes flicking over Lawrence’s appearance curiously. ‘Quite a long time ago’ had a lot of different connotations depending on how long someone had lived. She’d met many who would say her departure of Europe for America at the turn of the century was a long time ago, and she knew others who perceived that time span as relatively short in comparison.
PMAIM
^
Lawrence Benoit
 Posted: May 18 2017, 09:48 PM
90 posts
puppeted by J-Chan
N/A
Mountain Standard time N/A
job
Neurosurgeon
species
Vampire
group
Valdit Nest
sexuality
Heterosexual
status
Single
age
514
mature
N/A
Maybe you think you that can hide I can smell your scent for miles
N/A
Nobility



The music wasn’t too overpowering or loud, the sound level being just perfect for this kind of setting. People here and there were making their way to the donation area – a more or less podium set towards the back of the room. Ladies with shiny baubles here and there on the arms of perfectly groomed men – couples no doubt – seemed to be the ones donating money the most. A few bachelors here or there donated, men who were too wealthy or busy to have married. Rare among them was the one woman of the lot that seemed to be on her own completely, and she was already heading towards the exit with a couple of young men surrounding her. Security for the old broad? He didn’t know, but it was a possibility. Just from looking at the people it here, it was difficult to tell what their story was. Not that it was any of his business, but Lawrence was a man who liked to discern people’s stories as he watched them. Creepy? Odd? Probably both of those things. But there were men like that out there, and also those that took orders and those that gave them. Which one was Lawrence, might you ask? Hard to say – he’d been a man of all of those traits once in his life.

Older gentlemen and even ladies seemed swayed by the music – some of them were dancing while others were in tight knit groups conversing over the music. The days of waltzes and lavish parties might have been over, but charity events and galas had taken their place. The wealthy mingled with other wealthy, and the poor were actually welcome to some of these functions. Anything for the sake of children, he’d guessed. This particular function was for the children’s hospital – and it made him think of all the kids over the years whom he had told ‘the news’ to. Of course, during those times, the parents were told in place of the child. How could a little girl know what death was at her age? She’d barely begun to live, and he was telling her she was going to die? It seemed preposterous that he – a creature that fed on blood and chaos – should be allowed to live when a child would die. It didn’t make sense, and it wasn’t fair – a thing he’d been told time and again by parents who didn’t want to believe him. But it was life. Life wasn’t about fairness and happiness; it was cruel and unpredictable, and anyone who thought otherwise was living a fantasy.

His mood was somewhat soured with these thoughts, and instantly he was grateful for the gorgeous distraction that had come his way. This event itself was a distraction from the everyday toil of work. Even when he wasn’t at work, there were files to go through, documents to read and sign, and texts to flip through when making a diagnosis. His home was more like his office; there were three computers in the house, two tablets, three desks, two cell phones and a pager all within his home. At work there was more of the same, only there was one computer and little else technology wise in the office space at work. It was a lot to keep track of, really, but he was grateful for the nights when he didn’t have to look at a screen. When he could look at and talk to a real live person who wasn’t a patient. Add on top of all of it the nights when he had to hunt. Some nights he traveled down the street to hunt, and other nights he went clear across town into the Soma district. He’d starved himself, really, just to get more work done. But he couldn’t do that anymore. Proper feeding and taking care of himself came first.

“Oh? I imagine it, like mine, is pronounced in rather interesting and wrong ways. Amusing, yet aggravating – I know that all too well.” And in spite of how many times he told someone how his name was pronounced, they always seemed to get it wrong. In his field there was a lot of mispronunciation – something he’d grown used to, having worked in this field since the seventies.

“Oh how lovely – it must have been exciting to travel with your family,” God knew he never got to travel with his own family. Every bit of traveling he did was by himself – or accompanied by one of his fledglings. He missed France in all honesty and was in the same boat as Belda as he had a great fondness for his home country. San Francisco might have been where he lived, but it wasn’t truly ever going to be home for him. Every few years he traveled back to France - at least for a few days before being thrown back into work. “Yes, that’s right,” he said, confirming that it was, “The last time I was there it had changed immensely from when I lived there with my family. Of course, everything changes eventually.” He certainly had. His smile was easy – it felt good to meet someone from France, even if they weren’t from the same city. Macon and Lyon were rather close together, enough that it could have very well been the same type of land. “Shortly after 1900, but I didn’t arrive in San Francisco until – about a decade ago now,” he says, as if it was normal to be over a hundred years old and looking like he was in his forties, “A little secret – I’m older than I look.” He smiled at that, as if his species was some big secret or something. In point of fact, it wasn’t – not remotely. Some people liked to know what race was working on them at the hospital.

“So what do you do for a living, Madam DeRosier?” For conversation’s sake and everything, he’d try to stick to subjects that weren’t too invasive.
PMEmail
^
Belda DeRosier
 Posted: May 28 2017, 09:21 PM
41 posts
puppeted by Kenzie
Bel
EST She/her
job
Brand Consultant, Sugar baby
species
Siren
group
Seelie Court
sexuality
Pansexual
status
Single
age
382
mature
Bring on the debauchery
...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.
N/A
This Isn't Love




Some of the people floating through the fundraiser were part of families that Belda knew well, families that had been in San Francisco for a couple generations and continuing to populate the upper class. It kept their little world spinning around and continuing on. More family to carry on the name and bolster the wealth, living trophies for their status and accomplishments. Children were a cause worthy enough for them to deign with their presence, more important to them or their family reputation than other events that were thinly veiled posturing contests. A fundraiser more open to the public, and invitation extended to middle class and hospital staff members shifted some of the mood. More subtle posturing was called for; almost making a show of the walk towards the donation box. Peacocks strutting about, flashing their feathers to impress the crowd around them. The baubles adorning dates a subtle suggestion of how deep their pockets were and how much they could donate without a thought.

Sealed envelopes probably hid amounts that were small by their standards. Belda would wager the largest donations would come from parents, holding more on an emotional investment in the notion of children.

Of course there were plenty of faces who Belda didn't have a history with. The new connections, the newly made wealthy or the ones who were new to the city. It was a place that was drawing attention and with her occasional moves to different cities for a few years every now and again it was easy for her to find those she didn't know. Yet. Always a yet. The blonde would find out their stories at some point if they were important enough to her. Or if they managed to catch her interest long enough for a conversation.

Belda could spot more posturing from the wealthier attendees, flaunting their pretty baubles - dates included - in ways that others weren't. Questions of family or business were layered, social predators all dressed up and finding half of their potential prey not to their liking. Posturing was next to useless if the other person did not care or did not acknowledge it. They were made to flaunt and strut about.

At a later point in the night, the siren hadn't exactly settled on when, she'd make her own little parade to the donation box to slip a cheque into. A sizeable enough amount that would garner the positive reaction it was meant to. Truly which charity - or more accurately to tonight hospital - the money went to was of little consequence. The whole fundraiser was a backdrop to the siren, she was here for her own reasons and it certainly wasn't solely for a lavish night out. It was a decently extravagant affair, but far from the lavish and almost obscene decadence of centuries past. Of a time where the dresses took up significantly more room than the women in them did, and actual dancing, not just swaying to the music, but almost the entire room dancing. When there were more obstacles to dance about and all of her cunning was to be hidden behind painted lips and careless gestures. A predatory flash of teeth disguised with charm and a thoughtless façade.

But this society had apparently rejected the aristocracy that had thrown those balls, and dressed up their own with a different name.

It mattered little to Belda what the society wanted to call them - the aristocracy, the wealthy, the upper class - it was familiar waters she was navigating. Momentarily freed from electronic communication all of the work she'd done tonight had occurred face to face, where the full extent of her charm and joy of socialization could be on display. Of course Belda was more than comfortable with using technology to communicate, but this was truly her element - dressed up and in rooms full of other individuals.

"I'm certain you do. Perhaps the most aggravating part is that neither of our names are particularly hard or too far from the natural sounds of english. " Particularly aggravating as for Belda her work was directly tied to her name. She'd built her work around the most important part of her life - her family, and the least clients could do in her opinion was at least make the effort of pronunciation.

However the annoyance was easily melted away with the mention of her family. The siren nodded, a nostalgic smile smoothing out her features. Memories of swimming along with the family boat as they travelled around Europe, usually opting for longer water travel than land travel. "It was, though it did have its limitations. My father was a merchant so travel was a necessity through the years." There had always been an excitement of landing in a port and switching for the boat to the markets. " It became much more exciting when we were old enough to explore the cities on our own. Children can only be interested in business for so long." The comment was said with an almost dismissive but amused air. As if Belda's attention hadn't been caught at a young age by her father's work. Though no matter how far the DeRosiers had travelled together, returning to France was always a welcome site. It was and would continue to be their home, not matter where in the world the sirens were living at the moment. Their father even remained living in the home that the siren triplets had grown up in. "It is always intriguing returning to find things changed. Exciting and nostalgic all at once I find, being able to remember how things were one and see where time has taken them." A sensation that Belda was certain any non mortal was familiar with, of watching time march on and cities change as the years flow pass.

A delighted laugh bubbled up her throat, not only were the they both from France but apparently even their travel to North American was close. Belda leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping as if her words were some kind of secret, "So am I Lawrence." Her smile was secretive as she righted herself and with a wink before taking another sip of champagne. "It's rather surprising we've only just now run into each other." Born in cities close together and making the trip to a difference continent on either side of the turn of the century.

"I'm a brand consultant, and yourself?" The blonde wondered if perhaps their professions would be similar as well.
PMAIM
^
Lawrence Benoit
 Posted: May 30 2017, 08:41 PM
90 posts
puppeted by J-Chan
N/A
Mountain Standard time N/A
job
Neurosurgeon
species
Vampire
group
Valdit Nest
sexuality
Heterosexual
status
Single
age
514
mature
N/A
Maybe you think you that can hide I can smell your scent for miles
N/A
Nobility



Some of these people Lawrence had seen before, whether in passing or they had visited the hospital at one point in their lives. The rest, well, he knew them by association, aka he knew one of their friends and therefore he knew them as well. Complicated didn’t even begin to cut it, which was why his attendance to these things was spotty at best. At first it had been about the blood that pumped through their veins – how he couldn’t be around them for very long because his thirst was too great. Now, though, it was because he didn’t really want to be social, not unless he absolutely had to be. People were rather keen on ignoring his presence, although some of them flashed him charming smiles, which he returned because it was the polite thing to do. Too many of them were strutting about, flashing their wealth on their wrists, necks or ears, and turning their noses up here or there. Too prim and proper to have ever done a hard day’s work in their lives.

It was interesting and entertaining to see which ones were more likely to donate, and which ones were here just for the free food and booze. Hard to think that Lawrence counted himself among these individuals who cared next to nothing about the homeless or the sick children who never saw a day out of the hospital. Turned his stomach, and made him a little annoyed that these parasites would only part with their money just to put on a show, as if donating was a foreign word that they didn’t understand. Nearly every day Lawrence passed someone on the street who had nothing, and often he’d drop a few dollars into the tin they panhandled. Once, even, he pulled out five hundred dollars and gave it to a woman who had two small children with her. They didn’t look all that destitute, really, but they looked as though they needed it more than he did. If he could better a person’s day by sacrificing some of his wealth, then his own day was made in the process. The vampire with a heart; what do yah know…

Lawrence recalled a much simpler time when parties like this were everything, and anyone who said anything different was not counted among the nobles. Back then there were wealthy and well-known names, his own included, and lots of pretty faces to go with those names. But his pedigree mattered little nowadays, his name forgotten in his home town, the Benoit legacy having died when his family had. There were two Benoit children left in the world, and neither of them was a shining example of perfection. Maybe once, but no longer. Lawrence had a body count in his past so extensive that he often chose not to speak about such things, and Cosette – if she was still alive – was the pawn of a self-proclaimed queen. His hatred ran deep for his sire, but nothing could quell his hope that he might see his sister again, a woman who was robbed of her happy, comfortable life, and now was as much a monster as he was.

“Leave it to humans to get such things wrong,” Lawrence had sniffed out Belda long before their conversation began, and he could devise that she was a siren, “Just between us, I was human, once, and even I can say that.” His second comment was spoken a little lower, seeing as how he didn’t want to cause a panic amongst the numerous mortals in the vicinity.

“I was raised a noble in a family long since forgotten, but I have no ill feelings towards the passage of time,” another subtle hint to what he was, spoken of as if it was no big deal that he were a vampire. And in the truth of the matter, he did have ill feelings, but not against time itself. “I can imagine. I tired of my father’s business dealings and all of the rest of it to join the military. Did quite a bit of traveling in it.” But none of his travels were with family, save for the bit he had done with his sister. “I didn’t take well to the change I was presented with when I returned home, but after so long, you get used to the change of society.”

“Quite surprising, although from just talking a few moments, I hope that this is not the only time we run into each other,” his smile was easy and genuine, everything that did not fit his race in the least. But just because he was a vampire, that didn’t necessarily mean he was a bad guy. Just a product of another vampire’s decisions – good or bad, he couldn’t really say for sure. “I’m a Neurosurgeon, one of two on staff at the hospital where I work. Fortunate that I am here, actually. I don’t get much free time these days.” He says – and yes, he knew that any type of doctor would be a strange profession choice for a vampire, but it was not an impossible one. “So while we’re on the subject, what else would you like to know about me? I’m an open book; feel free to ask me anything.” Why not, right? This was how friends (and enemies) were made, was it not? Right.
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Belda DeRosier
 Posted: Aug 9 2017, 09:29 PM
41 posts
puppeted by Kenzie
Bel
EST She/her
job
Brand Consultant, Sugar baby
species
Siren
group
Seelie Court
sexuality
Pansexual
status
Single
age
382
mature
Bring on the debauchery
...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.
N/A
This Isn't Love



Of course if there were faces that were completely unfamiliar to her Belda could always simply seize this opportunity. It was a social event wasn't it? So why not take full advantage and socialize to her heart's content. Other than perhaps the gala would have been long over by the time she'd manage to fully satisfy her enjoyment of being a social butterfly. But that was neither here nor there, and something that she had long ago accepted. Almost an aggressively social person, the siren didn't simply pass up an opportunity to indulge in conversation. Not unless there was something incredibly pressing and demanding her time and attention, and without that she'd indulge in easy conversation. Never going more than a few minutes without some kind of social interaction while out, and especially while at charity events she was attending for her consulting work. Ranging some something as simple and fleeting as a familiar and warm smile or a full in depth conversation.

Connections and reputation. Work that she enjoyed and that made it an easier thing to do.

She'd even grasp tenuous connections if it helped spark a new conversation, a new connection to be used however it could. Whether that was for entertainment or work purposes didn't matter much. They were opportunities to be seized by manicured nails.

It wasn't that Belda didn't care for the plight of those that charity events like this were held for. More so that they were individuals and sometimes groups who just did not appear on her radar, their concerns and needs were things that did not take high importance because they were not among the people Belda held close to her. She had no emotional investment in them or their lives, so they did not concern her on a day to day basis. But she'd long learned that when parties began to crop up around social concerns it was smarter to play along with them, to write the cheques and part with some of her money to maintain reputation. Galas hadn't always been like this, hadn't always been about maintaining reputation and status through pretending to care for others. She had attended many parties where simple attendance was a marker of status and importance, an implicit validation and evaluation of social - and sometimes moral - worth. Your name meant something if you received and invitation, not if you donated the right amount of money.

The siren may not have been born into a family name that had always had the prestige of receiving those invitations but she saw the days when it was achieved. When all the work and effort put into bettering their family in order to ensuring their wellbeing began to pay off. And of course she hadn't stopped there. Before nobility had declined in importance and a family name was no longer enough to stake reputation and status on.

"Humans and Americans. Ones who believe they are the center of the world and its importance." Sure nobility had always had an ego, but an entire nation who fervently believed themselves to be the pinnacle and that other nations should conform to their thinking?

Though a brow would quirk at his admittance, and unfortunately Belda didn't have the advantage of a sense of smell that could clue her into someone's species. But there were drastically fewer who had begun as mortal. A starting point of consideration. And to have existed long enough for a noble family to have been forgotten narrowed down the options further. Interesting. An idle curiosity, as Lawrence felt more sincere in his attendance than most of the people she spoken with this evening. "I suppose most of the nobility have passed from memory as the aristocracy took on a new form. Changing as time marches on until new names take their place. New name for the same class."

A light laugh and an easy smile as she nodded slightly, "Yes well that was bolstered by arriving in port cities in different countries and wanting the excitement of a new culture over the familiarity of the family business." She took a moment to consider how so often each time they returned from a trip something slight would change, coming gradually when she still lived in Europe. And then change and time seemed to accelerate, moving along more quickly and making more and more drastic changes with each arrival home until she'd have to reacquaint herself with sections of the city. "I admit there were several times that change wasn't met well when I would return home. But you are right, we get used to it and now it's more expected. When things don't change is almost more jarring and unexpected isn't it? Just waiting for something to be not quite right but finding everything still in its place."

"Oh that is easy enough to ensure." Really it was only getting easier and easier to ensure that those you didn't want to slip through fingers didn't. Reaching out to establish or keep that contact, keep that connection from sliding away was so simple if only one took the few steps needed. Simple. So often blown out of proportion and bogged down by excuses. "Some changes are helpful for that I hear." The sip of her glass definitely wouldn't hide the curl of painted lips. "Neurosurgeon? That's quite impressive Lawrence, I commend you for that work. I am curious though, with all the advancement through the years in that field how do you adapt to it all? Are you expected to keep up yourself or return to school and study?" It was a genuine curiosity, one she hadn't ever considered before in regards to more than mortal physicians. And she had been invited to ask something, diverted only momentarily from more personal matters to sate the bit of curiosity that had sprung up.
PMAIM
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Lawrence Benoit
 Posted: Aug 12 2017, 10:07 PM
90 posts
puppeted by J-Chan
N/A
Mountain Standard time N/A
job
Neurosurgeon
species
Vampire
group
Valdit Nest
sexuality
Heterosexual
status
Single
age
514
mature
N/A
Maybe you think you that can hide I can smell your scent for miles
N/A
Nobility



Where Lawrence might have been of noble birth, he no longer cared for the reputation that came with it. He’d liked to think that he had a good one, however, given that he was known for his position at the hospital. Once, a long time ago, he did care – and threw around his wealth just because he could. Now though, there was a cause attached with that money he gave, giving because it was the right and selfless thing to do. Not because it’d make him anymore popular or anything of the like. What he cared about was that his money would go to help people, just as he was helping people in the hospital whenever they came to him for treatment. Some of these functions happened to line the pockets of whatever politician was running for whatever office, and you really had to do your homework if you were going to attend one. This one, however, was an annual event. Not one of these things that was thrown at the last minute.

Long ago had he been born into a family of wealth and status, but any remnant of that was the man that stood before the siren. All others had been erased by the test of time. Even tombstones were gone. Only rather distant family members remained – people who had no idea that Lawrence had even existed some five-hundred years ago. How he wanted to tell them that he was still here, still – well, he wasn’t really alive was he – breathing, still someone that they could see and touch. But hardly anyone would have cared to dig into their lineage that far. Maybe a hundred years or a bit more, but not over three-hundred for certain. His name meant little now, but to him it was a reminder of what he’d once had and, inevitably, of what he had done. A constant looming reminder whenever he signed his name or looked at the many diplomas on the wall of his office both at work and at home.

“I think every civilization have once believed such things, but they were human, for the most part.” Back before knowledge of supernatural people filtered into existence. In ancient times, long remembered by those that had lived to see it. Cautious of letting humanity know that they were there. “I have little to do with politics of any kind nowadays. My family is gone, for the most part. Our name doesn’t hold the weight it once did.” He’d sip more at his champagne, watching the little dancing that was occurring on the dance floor. The music took a turn for a song of sorrow, slow and sensual in its entirety. Allowing for more intimate couples to get closer together, enjoy the music and the time shared with their partner. It made him want to join them, but he was without a date and therefore without a dancing partner.

“Oh? What kind of business?” He’d ask, intrigued by professions of any kind. It was always interesting to learn what kind of business others had gone into, particularly when such professions were around anymore. Maybe not gone entirely, but were named something else now. “My father was a banker who dabbled in art; bought, sold, and traded most of the pieces he’d collected over the years. But I can remember the walls in our home being littered with paintings and drawings; the corners of every hallway dotted with sculptures of some kind; and every piece of furniture handmade. But things in those days were as such.” His life had changed drastically when he was turned. His family scattered and all but eradicated from the planet in just one night, and his home, burned with all of the possessions of the Benoit family. He’d only the clothes on his back that night, and a small pouch of coins in his pocket. He’d learn of his father’s wealth, and he’d get access to it – but the process was long and excruciatingly painful to have to go through, all those memories flooding back to him.

“Sometimes I take the time to go back to school to get up to date on all the new things that have come into being, all while working at the same time. Those are the times I have no extra time at all.” A stressful time – but he was a quick learner, absorbing it all like a sponge. And he’d always loved school, even as a child, so it wasn’t difficult for him in the least. “A good question though – there is only so much keeping up you can do in my field before you almost have to relearn everything all over again with the added details.”
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