Post by Demitrius Oronra on Dec 6, 2009 3:42:54 GMT -5
Demitrius entered Merlotte's with less enthusiasm than he usually did. His somewhat normal entrance was only slightly less of an event to the bar patrons than he grandiose first entrance. In fact, Demitrius was feeling as close to sullen as he could. He had been in Bon Temps much longer than he had anticipated, and had yet to rescue a single person, or do any good deeds, other than keeping the local eateries open with his superhuman appetite.
Not only was his mission a monumental failure so far, but now he was about to be in some trouble with the local vampires. He noticed that they had been following him and watching his movements for over a week, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Sheriff sent someone to chastise him. He hadn't figured out how to hide his scent, so he had probably left the lingering scent of corrupted Fae everywhere. The scent had to be pissing the vampires off. But they knew better than to strike. Demitrius would have to see one of the sheriff's people before long, or he'd never hear the end of it.
Demitrius tried to put it out of his head as he smiled blandly at the staring faces, blinked his alien blue eyes for good measure, and lowered himself into a booth. The current occupants leapt from the other side of the booth and tripped over themselves as they found another seat, but Demitrius barely noticed as he slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He reached up to adjust his vintage and very demure, '30s pert hat as the waitress came to his table. She smiled; it was clear she wished he hadn't sat there. Demitrius decided to save her the trouble.
"Three hamburgers "Lafeyette." Two orders of french fries. One order of onion rings. Two chicken tender baskets. And, a chilled merlot. That's all."
With relief, the waitress went back towards the kitchen. Demitrius peeked at the cook; not Lafeyette. His burger better be good...
He reached up and scratched beneath his tight, braided bun as his eyes searched the room. He hoped there weren't any vampires here. He could do without cold glares while he ate.
Not only was his mission a monumental failure so far, but now he was about to be in some trouble with the local vampires. He noticed that they had been following him and watching his movements for over a week, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Sheriff sent someone to chastise him. He hadn't figured out how to hide his scent, so he had probably left the lingering scent of corrupted Fae everywhere. The scent had to be pissing the vampires off. But they knew better than to strike. Demitrius would have to see one of the sheriff's people before long, or he'd never hear the end of it.
Demitrius tried to put it out of his head as he smiled blandly at the staring faces, blinked his alien blue eyes for good measure, and lowered himself into a booth. The current occupants leapt from the other side of the booth and tripped over themselves as they found another seat, but Demitrius barely noticed as he slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He reached up to adjust his vintage and very demure, '30s pert hat as the waitress came to his table. She smiled; it was clear she wished he hadn't sat there. Demitrius decided to save her the trouble.
"Three hamburgers "Lafeyette." Two orders of french fries. One order of onion rings. Two chicken tender baskets. And, a chilled merlot. That's all."
With relief, the waitress went back towards the kitchen. Demitrius peeked at the cook; not Lafeyette. His burger better be good...
He reached up and scratched beneath his tight, braided bun as his eyes searched the room. He hoped there weren't any vampires here. He could do without cold glares while he ate.