Three Quarters of a Circle
Atlanta felt like home in many ways. The open crowd on the streets made sure the city had some life to it. It was not just a lot of empty streets like back home. In many ways, Atlanta had a real pulse to it. As first impressions went, it was having an attractive effect on Kris. He was pleased with himself to consider remaining in town after Mud got into his laptop and left him a spooky message. The cause of such a statement caused Kris to consider dropping everything and starting from scratch, but that was what a coward would do. And he was no coward.

There was a little bit of a heads up on what to expect from the First Circle, thanks to Mud. Between the write-up and Monicas own description, The First Circle sounded like the exact place Kris needed in his lonely nights. A place not to feel alienated. To have reverence and appreciation. Something all vampires should feel instead of the grimaces of those without their gifts.

But tonight was all about playing it cool. Don't be overly aggressive or come off as a goof. This was a new territory. The new opportunity was here. Time to make a fresh face start and show some worth.

In tonight's case, Kris was wearing black jeans with a similar colored belt, grey sneakers and a blue t-shirt with a flannel long sleeve button up on top. Checkered with the typical reds, blacks, and browns. He left his hair messy, lazily brushed so it was absent of knots. He wore two silver bands on his left index finger. His cologne felt like a low shelf variety of spice, a mixture of cinnamon and myrrh.

After making his entrance, he was pleased to be a complete unknown. It was fun to enter an unfamiliar place with no recognition of any kind and just soak in the atmosphere. It was a neat little place. Full of chatter and awash with the fresh scent of youthful life.

That was not his aim tonight. No need to persuade a beautiful young healthy jugular back to his motel or push to connect with the local biters. The only cold skin he wanted to rub up against tonight was that of the revered Monica.

Sliding up to the bar, he'd lean against it and wait for the keep to catch his eye, giving the figure a wave over before stating his interest in speaking with Monica. A full grin on his face after the request. As the tender moved off, Kris took this time to watch those who were dancing. One caught his eye, dressed up in far to much leather with equally to much skin exposed. Such kinky wear was rather dull to witness. His eyes would wander to catch the visage of a punk girl. One with blonde hair and blue highlights held up in pigtails. She had on the most vibrant shade of red across her lips and her skin was a rich tan. The shadowy blur she was speaking with was doing something amusing as it consistently was causing this punkette to give a full open mouth laugh.

Kris became mesmerized by her. There was an altogether soothing quality about her rebellious appearance and chalky white teeth. His stance shifted from curious to wonderment. Stuck as he was by the bar. The sound blaring over the speakers more akin to the soft beat of a drum and high pitched choir then the EDM everyone else heard.
Mud had been monitoring the Rose's communications and his schedule. To his credit, the pretty boy HAD changed his passwords and shit, but really? No extra upgrades? He'd have a word about electronic security later, he'd told himself.

This guy Williams was, lucky for Mud, happy to plan stuff ahead, and so he knew on what day he'd have to stake out "First Circle". Too bad he hadn't made note of his planned visiting time, though. So, that night Mud had gone for his all-blacks outfit: matte-black sneakers, a black pair of sweatpants and ditto hoodie. He'd also forgone oiling his skin. He really couldn't use the potential of glare on this. And thusly dressed, he hung out across the street from the club. Waiting. Watching. And probably scaring the shit out of a few homeless people. That last one was unfortunate, but couldn't really be helped.

Every sharp-dressed guy he saw, he checked against a printed out picture of Kris he had. It took quite a few 'tries' before he had the right one. He waited a minute or two after Kris had entered, then, as he darted from shadow to shadow, he turned himself truly invisible before passing the guards and entering the club. Inside, he had a little trouble locating his 'target'. Once he did, he carefully made his way over to the bar. He'd learned the painful way that his invisibility did not mean people couldn't HEAR him any longer. So, easy did it.

Once he made his way to the bar, and he took the stool next to Kris, Mud decided to have a little fun out of it all. He leaned in towards Kris, and whispered in his ear: Do iiiit! DOOO IIIIITTTT!, before returning to a more comfy position. He'd "pop up" as soon as Kris would turn his way, being RIGHT in his face when he did so, smiling his most friendly smile. Which might ot might not be VERY creepy to the Rose....
His vision felt like it narrowed down into a scope, colors mixed into a brilliant design offered by a kaleidoscope. As a mumbling slipped into his ear all to harsh for his tastes, his face scrunched up into a scowl. Whatever awoke him from his paradise on earth was certainly the caretaker on the descent towards hell. The light in his eyes that remained after his embrace flickered out as he turned his head away in disgust. The sudden transition from beauty to disaster was too jarring for this rose.

"Have you never heard of common courtesy?" He barked in a jittery manner. Nosferatu. You'd feel bad for them if they didn't just eat up the whole monsters of the earth bit.

Kris brought his hands up to dust off his shoulder. Never mind it was, in fact, a clean shirt and dandruff was not a concern.

So here was this guy. Mud. What an absolutely terrible name. Good song though. Maybe this jackass stole it from the rock legends. Did this toothy devil desire to build an empire? In this age it started online anymore, and both of them were working to build their own little empires,  

"Mud I expect. Look, dude, you can't crawl up on people like that. It's how unfortunate incidents come to pass and nobody wins. Not a damn soul."

Taking a deep breath, even without the need of doing so, he rolled his neck and stared at the street tough with a more relaxed expression. Trying to switch his emotions back to that of a calm, cool, collected vampire of the scene.

"In any case. It's good to have this meeting. Is there a comfy spot that you feel is best for us to settle in and discuss our interests? I imagine it's better for us to get our particular issues addressed before we dive to deep into other pleasantries."
At the mention of "common courtesy", Mud made a sound that was halfway between a chuckle and a snort. It's also common courtesy not to stare. And you stared. I just helped you, I reckon. No need to thank me. Even with the slightly raspy quality of his voice, the fun he had with the whole situation was clearly audible in it. Oh, I CAN. I shouldn't, I'll agree to that. But I just proved that I can. He grinned at the wordplay. He knew he was an ugly bastard, he just couldn't really care. There was nothing he could do about it, so why worry?

He listened to Kris suggesting a dark corner, basically. Grinning his overly toothy smile, he shook his head and mad a 'tut-tut-tut'-sound behind it: That would be a bit ruse, K. I mean, with just having semi-asked to see the manager and all. Besides, I like the fact I can be seen here. That I even have the chance, really. I think I might go after that ad for a photo model.... Not that he even considered that line of work. He wasn't fond of overly bright lights. Though that could be from under-exposure to them.... But ... issues? Us? What seems to be bothering you? I can't say that I'm overly bothered, really. Well, there's the matter of you seemingly not taking 'Net security all to serious. Did you know that can end up biting you? Mud stated with a faux surprise.
Another night at the club. No special event, but still a lively or unlively crowd. Spaced out electronic beats, people pretending their hunt were flirtation, that their flirtation were a hunt. Her home, the closest thing she had to a home.

She was busy, she was at work, and yet so comfortable. Wrapped once again in her routine and in the world she had built for her and her people.

It was no ordinary night, though, her dream of abnormal normalcy could only have so much space. She had agreed to that meeting, even looked forward to it. It brought up all sorts of horrible thoughts, but then, she had already decided the ostrich days were over.

(A small voice in her head, one with no sense of opportunity or taste, tried to fit it on a very wrong tune).

They were not hard to recognize: one, she'd seen him around, and he was quite unmistakable; as for the other, he had his likeness plastered all over his media, to make sure you did not ignore his face.

It seemed all vampires had blogs, those days; not that it was bad, just an odd contrast with the more old fashioned ways. It made sense, though. After ages of secrecy, they had an urge to show off and speak out; sometimes they even had something to tell.

What they were discussing between themselves? She walked closer, clad in a black-leather-minidress-and-pink-wig ensemble. They were supposed to meet, anyway. Still, she waited for at least a slight pause in their convo, assuming there was one.

"Hi, I'm Monica, I think we have exchanged an email or three?"
While not entirely sure what to make of most nosferatu, Kris was starting his early thought process that this one was not worth the trouble. To much chaotic expression. There were ways to express that disorder without appearing disheveled and splintered. Could Mud be any more of a nuisance? First impressions went a long way. This impression was already soddered in and Kris knew trying to flip the idea of a decent encounter out of this guy was going to prove fruitless.

"Yeah, so. No man. You might be able to stand out here under the spotlight with that visage of yours. However when it comes to personal interersts the last thing to be desired is long ears absorbing bits of juicy info drops. I'm sure you can understand. Especially since your whole shtick with the security thing."

Kris furrowed his brow. "I'll admit it could be better, but I did not think a nosferatu of all things would want to undermind someones efforts."

Before he was able to continue, the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of a familiar face. He had to do a double take just to be sure. The woman who was cutting through the crowd like a hot knife was the exact likeness in the photo he had. There was a lot of anticipation and want for Kris to meet with Monica. To him and the information he did gather, she was the woman to know in Atlanta. What she acturally knew or what connections she had were to be determined. But any potential high profile individual was a necessary to know. Especially if you were aiming to make sense of this vampire thing and bring order with it.

Turning from Mud without ceramony, he beamed at the woman and gave a up-tick of his head.

"Monica, yes. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Kris Williams. Your arrival for our meet was at the best possible time."

With a nod of his head, he swiped his hand across his jeans and extended the rather thin digits out towards her for a handshake. A habit of wiping the palm before doing so was something from his former life.

"Unlike my new friend here, would you prefer to have these manners discussed in a more comfortable location?" Never looking at Mud as he addressed the nosferatu. Feeling that the menace was also going to be inserted into this meeting with Monica. He decided to skip being snide and let what happens, happen.
Good evening miss Johnson. We indeed have exchanged some emails. Its good to finally meet you for real. Despite foul romours to the contrary, Mud could be very 'correct' and nice about pretty much anything. It was just his inner jester that sometimes took control that made him end up being "silly". Abrasive. Annoying.... An ass, basically. But a Mud on his best behaviour was only slightly less 'correct' than an amateur reporter, really. Mister Williams and I were just discussing our differences on operational security and ear size AND shape apparently. Oh, and approach to life, basically.

He was not above a jab here and there, but he'd try to be civil about it. Mostly. His previous conversational partner hadn't paid too much attention to him. Not a surprise there, really. No had feelings either. Mud hadn't nbeen opposed to secrecy, far from it. He was just not one for hiding when he had an appointment with someone. But seeing as that person was now with them, finding a quieter spot was not all that far-fetched. But yeah, some of the things we might end up discussing might be best kept to as small a group as we can manage. Mostly because it might no all be ... above water, as they say

He was not kidding there, either. He'd done some digging. Granted, it hadn't yielded nearly as much as he had hoped, but the methods he'd used were almost all ... if not illegal then highly amoral....It wasn't necessarily something he was proud of, but he could do it, and so he had done it. He had little patience for the authorities, never had, and even less trust. So, any "official communiqués" were, to him, immediately and high;y suspect.

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