EZRA
Things I am currently enjoying:
1) not being dead.
Things I would change about item one:
a) also not being super alive.
Like, okay, so I can walk and talk and flirt and look fabulous, but I can't get drunk? Or high? Or hard? It's a waste, really, and while I am eternally grateful to Our Lady And Savior Madame Você, perfect beings we the people certainly are not.
And yet here I am draped over a bar, keeping an eye on the comings and goings while wearing something black and frilly and revealing that I found in one of the empty rooms. What can I say? I'm a creature of habit, even if many of my favorite habits are, quite literally, left behind to a past life.
So yeah. Draped on the bar, lazily pouring drinks for those fortunate souls who can enjoy them and waiting for someone to catch my eye. And the guy who does? He's a skinny and shy thing, not my type at all, all short and soft with ridiculous red hair and bright blue eyes. But hey, attention is attention, and so as he comes closer I flash him a dazzling white-fanged smile, extending my hand to lay in his, the lack of any sensation from contact deeply disconcerting.
"Ezra," I purr back, recalling my fingers to lay my chin upon my palm, elbow on the wooden bartop as I lean closer to Samuel. "You have good ears- I am indeed one among our risen ranks. I take it you've been doing this for some time? Being gorgeously undead, that is."
1) not being dead.
Things I would change about item one:
a) also not being super alive.
Like, okay, so I can walk and talk and flirt and look fabulous, but I can't get drunk? Or high? Or hard? It's a waste, really, and while I am eternally grateful to Our Lady And Savior Madame Você, perfect beings we the people certainly are not.
And yet here I am draped over a bar, keeping an eye on the comings and goings while wearing something black and frilly and revealing that I found in one of the empty rooms. What can I say? I'm a creature of habit, even if many of my favorite habits are, quite literally, left behind to a past life.
So yeah. Draped on the bar, lazily pouring drinks for those fortunate souls who can enjoy them and waiting for someone to catch my eye. And the guy who does? He's a skinny and shy thing, not my type at all, all short and soft with ridiculous red hair and bright blue eyes. But hey, attention is attention, and so as he comes closer I flash him a dazzling white-fanged smile, extending my hand to lay in his, the lack of any sensation from contact deeply disconcerting.
"Ezra," I purr back, recalling my fingers to lay my chin upon my palm, elbow on the wooden bartop as I lean closer to Samuel. "You have good ears- I am indeed one among our risen ranks. I take it you've been doing this for some time? Being gorgeously undead, that is."
isn't it lovely, all alone
heart made of glass, my mind of stone
heart made of glass, my mind of stone
