Bohemian Rhapsody
There was something cool in the air this evening. Not that it bothered Storm, but she could definitely tell it was there. She could sense it permeate her bones, feel it in the breeze that tousled her hair. There was a change in the weather, incoming, likely rain. It would cool off these heated asphalt streets and half-decrepit wooden benches framed in rusty iron with their peeling paint and dusty old lacquer no longer able to produce an inviting shine.

Walking past one such seat, Stormy dragged her fingertip along the dusty edge, feeling every bump, every scratch, every inanimate pore. She thought about how much these dilapidated street objects contrasted with her current outfit, which she took particular care to assemble for the night - a cropped cherry red woolen military jacket, spaghetti strap black tank top and a pair of high-cut black denim shorts - offset by a pair of whimsical black fishnet stockings and topped off with loosely unlaced black cowhide combat boots.

Here went a girl with her own sense of style that in her eye, was nothing short of beautiful, even if it screamed bohemian from every angle...

There would be looks and whispers, whistles and maybe even scant sensuous touches once Storm entered Mary's, her primary destination of the evening. Wanting to unwind and perhaps lend an ear to a new catchy tune or two - not huge on expectations, merely wanting to embrace a loose social circle of unknowns, where she could remain someone or no one - whatever suited her at a given moment. Versatility meant everything. Confinement was not to be borne.

Only a couple of blocks separated her from the bar. She had visited it only once before but already knew the place was very relaxed, catering to a crowd of pretty much any orientation. But what attracted Stormy to it the most, was Mary's karaoke nights and its capable DJs spinning catchy, alternative tunes. Every Wednesday, too, they would have a previously unannounced newcomer come and sing in front of a live audience - introducing their art to the talent-hungry public. Hopefully, tonight's 'fresh meat' would be as easy on the eyes as she (or he) would be on Stormy's ears.

And a Vampire's ears, needless to say, were very sensitive, to say the least.

Weaving her way past other pedestrians on the sidewalk, the Toreador took her final steps to the bar and entered after paying the cover charge to a brawny looking, dark-skinned bouncer. Theo. She remembered him from the other night, where he had an issue accepting a fifty-dollar bill. Something about 'exact change' which she could not really be bothered with, at the time. Well, tonight she had a handful of bills in just about every denomination knowing it would get her in with no delay.

Pushing through a thick crowd of patrons, Storm made her way to the bar, grabbing a swivel stool in a smart way to mark her territory. "You got my special Bloody Mary?" she grinned at the bartender, a knowing twinkle in her eye. Before she could slide payment across the counter, the man had it ready and waiting. "Thanks," she beamed at him brightly, pearly whites showing. "Keep the change."

Claiming her order, vessel to lips, she observed the gathered from above the rim of her glass, checking out everything and everyone on tonight's menu...
Has been quietly sitting on a table by the side of the stage with earphones on, they were not making any sound however, ever since her embrace she has found that the voice of the Fugue produce far better sounds than what any human voice or instrument ever could.

Once the clock on her phone stuck 8 pm her earphones came to life, they started blaring the alarm in her ear at full volume, snapping her out of the distraction caused by the Fugue.

She got up from the chair and heads onto the stage, smiling at the faces that she recognizes and enjoying the bedroom eyes some of the girls present start giving her once she is on top of the stage. Once on top of the stage all within the bar are able to see her form and what she is wearing, a fishnet top with a purple blouse hanging loosely around her left shoulder and a purple pleated skirt and knee high heeled black boots.

She grabs the microphone from the stand and starts speaking on it "I am Samara, and today i will be doing a cover of the vocals for Tennis Court. I hope you all will enjoy hearing it as much as i will enjoy singing it." with her message given she makes use of her presence, getting the undivided attention of all within the bar and starts her song.
Same old, same old. Tonight's crowd left little to the imagination, mostly hipsters with broken dreams coming here to forget their derailed lives and finite existence. There was also a faint smell of Kindred, though they were few and far between here, tonight. Good. More mortal finery for Storm to adorn herself with. Finishing her drink, she ordered another, post haste. Crumpled bills were gracing the counter like fresh summer rain, offset by chime-like laughter.

"Keep 'em coming; I feel generous tonight!"

Her personal space got busy fast; the money in plain sight was particularly eye-catching and the supplier perhaps even more so. Ignoring the growing interest, Stormy spread her elbows wide, indicating her preference for being left to her own devices, one of them nearly knocking off a patron's watered down Whiskey. Scoffing in disgust, the Toreador stole a gaze toward the stage, where one of her primary interests lay.

Tonight's entertainment. May it come soon.

Corner gaze glimpsed a female sitting at a table next to the stage, rocking some headphones to a tune Stormy could not pick out despite augmented hearing sense. Talking, laughing, shouting noises - all drowned out the singular thread of music she was after - it was time to get closer or sit tight and wait for the fireworks to begin. The performer would either blow everyone away with her talent, or fizzle out trying.

By the time the clock struck eight, the woman was already on stage, her outfit whispering an invitation to unspoken sin. Stormy grinned right at her, as the girl introduced herself. Samara. Samara... "Woo-hoo! Welcome, Samara!!" she bellowed and applauded, egging on the performer and falling silent as Samara began to sing. Whether it was the woman's Presence or her natural charm, Stormy felt herself momentarily captivated by the melody; her hips swaying in the rhythm of the soulful ballad coming from the stage.
"Let's go down to the tennis court, and talk it up like yeah." she stands silent as she finishes, her gaze moving from one audience member to the next, examining their reactions. Soon the audience starts clapping, some of them cheering and a few whistling.

Samara watches it all with a pleased fanged smile and as it slowly dies down she jumps down from the stage and lets go of her Presence, a few members of the crowd, some beings her personal friends and others being long time fans, walk over to her, they start congratulating her, they hug her and kisses her cheeks an she does the same for them before she excuses herself to get a quick drink from the bar.

She walks along the bar, looking for a free spot, she finds it near a pretty blonde woman in a red woolen military jacket. She flashes the bartender a fanged smile "A drink please."
When Samara finished, Stormy was sure to reward the singer with a hearty applause. Her voice was smooth and silky, very sensuous. It appealed to the Toreador on every level, she had to admit. Was that it, though? Was she just going to do the one number and scatter to the four winds??

Eyes dimmed in mild disappointment as they traced Samara's moves off the stage, taking the Kindred in a new direction but one that would please Storm immensely. The bar. Yeeees... It took a while, with Samara's groupies congratulating and groping the woman, but eventually she did arrive at the counter.

The Toreador shifted to the side, allowing the singer to get some personal space as she watched her place an ambiguous order.

"What's your favorite?" she inquired suddenly about the singer's preferred blood type, brazen and inspired by Samara's newly acquired proximity. "Good form tonight. Great voice. Ever do any Eurythmics or Evanescence?"

Old be gold, she thought. And smiled.
She turns to the pretty blonde while the bartender pours  the blood onto  glass "My favourite comes directly from my girlfriend." she looks at the drink that the blonde is holding and  smiles as she identifies what it is "What about yours sister?"

She looks back at the woman at hearing her second question "Yes i do Eurythmics and Evanescence, indeed i tend to prefer the classics but i figure that Lorde would fit better with this crowd." she turns back to the bartender and takes  the  drink offering him a quiet 'thank you' and a smile before she starts sipping on it
Unabashed. Bold. Not acidic, though. Bashing a myriad of thoughts that intertwined through her mind as she regarded Samara, Storm grinned in obvious pleasure she gained in the presence of a straightforward, truthful confession. Girlfriend. "Care to share?" she ventured a bold suggestion, downing the full bodied, woody flavor of her A+ as she let the overtones of cinnamon linger in her throat. "You sing very well," she repeated firmly, her gaze darting around to the patrons swarming all around them now, some a little more curious than others.

Watching the seemingly innocent fingers drift across Samara's shoulders and back, some even grazing her thighs, she let forth a small chuckle. "You're certainly in demand tonight. What about . . .  what you want?" her gaze darted across to a sultry female, her hair flaming red intermixed with vivid orange. "And I can dig Lorde... you did Tennis Court proper justice, think you can do Glory and Gore for me later tonight? Provided you are properly .... inspired, of course." Biting down on her lower lip she watched Samara intently, her gaze still stealing away to the unattended redhead seated at the table formerly occupied by Samara, before she took to the stage.

"Wanna make some headlines?"

What could she say? Victory was contagious.
She plays a bit with her glass before giving a playful smirk, feeling talkful  for this night and wishing to keep the conversation flowing for as long as she can "I love sharing, ask whatever your heart desires."

As the fingers start touching her she does not makes any motion to suggest that she is bothered, rather she seems amused and pleased at the attention, occasionally turning to give a playful smirk at the more daring girls, before turning back  to Stormy "And sure, i do more personal shows and take requests. What is your name?"

She raises a eyebrow and quickly finishes her drink when she hear the question about making headlines, she licks her bloodied lips before putting on  a fanged smile "I do love being on stage, what do you have in mind.''
"I was thinking of starting off with a good time - whenever you're done with your act."

Storm was not in any hurry. She was all amusement and satisfaction, getting an eyeful of patrons baiting Samara with their onslaught of tactile-based unforced errors.No matter the spotlight, this one seemed to thrive in it. A kindred spirit, the Toreador thought, taking pleasure in being asked her name. Curious. Spontaneous. Flexible. What's not to like?

"I'm Lily," she gave that one up without a fight. "Well, I was Lily. But I go by Storm. It's a... street name, if anything. Figured with a new life, I should get a new identity. Started off with this alias, which is now me - for all intents and purposes." Pausing, she ran a lazy fingertip along the rim of her glass, focus never leaving Samara. "I like your name, though. It's very unusual; exotic, even."

The evening was slowly becoming lukewarm (a welcome change from the earlier low-pressure system), lifting Stormy's spirits to a simmering high. The possibility of a fun evening, spent in the company of a new acquaintance and some warm, willing, gyrating bodies? Yum. And now this open-ended question... The promise of a great time seemed all to easy from where Storm was sitting.

"Sing the song I asked for, and we'll take it from there. Also, your next refreshment on me," she bit down her lower lip, a subtle cant of her head hinting at the delight to come.
She pouts at being kept in the dark about what the woman, Lily, was planning but nods, it is not like she did not enjoyed these more private performances as much as she enjoyed the more public shows.

"There's a humming in the restless summer air." She calls upon her vampiric abilities of Melpominee to project her voice inside Stormy ears. To those around her it looks like she is merely whispering something inaudible, however Stormy is able to hear her words perfectly, as if she had her mouth planted firmly on her ear. It is a show more private than any human musician would be able to provide and it is more personal than any gadget could ever hope to be.

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