[sub][b]P E T E R    L A P I N[/b][/sub][hr][sup][b]                       H e n r y ' s    S u n s e t    L o u n g e[/b][/sup]

	Sunless, avid eyes danced around the streets of Los Angeles, California.  Pale, kindred ears rang with vibrations from various places, causing their owner’s concentration to become warily enamored by the brilliance and industrious mechanics mouthing loudly into the nightlife.  As long as Peter had taken up some sort of residency in the unholy city, he had still, yet, to regain some sort of coherency over the strangeness elongating into his future of occupancy.  A contemplative thought of using some sort of earbuds to asphyxiate the perpetual buzzing spurred every once in a while, but the recent establishments of drama had escalated quite tremendously.  Even with the illogically delicate senses that the Malkavian had unfortunately procured upon his embrace, he had no desire to snuff them.  Although, for several moments he had felt some sense of relief that the Prince was a fallen.  Peter’s presence had been wearing dry around the Prince’s patience, but the Elder’s death held a notable close truth —  it was more dangerous than usual.  

	That’s what the voices said, anyways.

	The Malkavian found it also to be true, while tightly holding the soft, pale hand of his Retainer, Melanie, that he kind of enjoyed what was left of his humanity as much as his gluttonous desire to submit himself fully over to that perpetually growling beast itching at the back of his brain like an unquenchable parasitic worm wanted to be set free.  Intuitively, he knew a well-lived survival was unlikely for a constantly frenzying vampire, or maybe it was something the fallen Prince had repeatedly reminded him.  Either way, with responsiveness, Melanie’s dimwitted companionship offered a decent condolence for Peter’s concentration that clenched and grinded his teeth together silently.

	Melanie was wearing a nice white dress. It clung to her subtly curvy body, which stood relatively close in height to Peter’s barely adult physique. He enjoyed her frame almost too much; it reminded him of someone comforting he knew before he was Embraced.  Occasionally, he would come across the memory in the dreary, bat-ridden labyrinth of his mind. He did not have any time to unbalance his already shaken mood by contemplating his attraction to her, for tonight his mind was racing ceaselessly from one web of thought to the next as each musing sparkled like small pieces of gold with every passing streetlight.   He needed to be somewhere; he needed to see through the silk, threads entangling his rapid mind.  He needed the splendor more than the hazy drunkenness that always cooed and lulled him time-after-time into the Madness Network.

	There was finally a thought that Melanie’s company was not enough as his muscles stiffened with anxious anticipation, and in a quick vain panic, his eyes automatically darted upwards and over the city lights where the sky was foreign, black, and misty — kind of like the eyes of Melanie’s daughter,  Annie, when the dark circles, symmetrically implanted on her young, doll face would expand great lengths against the dusky amber gems containing those two black, interesting, mortal orbs of an existence. They would open wide when she wanted Peter to take something from her, and he was hardly opposed to nipping his teeth like large needles through her smooth skin and tasting her precious Vitae while her throat vibrated soft mewls of humanly pleasure.

	At some irrational point, he wanted to take Annie instead of Melanie, if only because she was more compliant to his unorthodox whims.  Unfortunately, it was true that she was just a child, and a Kiss would only serve so much during a botched time in the city if things became inconveniently rough. Peter also thought of taking Melanie’s husband, Frank, but he did not offer such nurturing movements with his masculine body. His eyes were needier with the passive gaze of Melanie’s desirable look. In fact, just the differing sounds of Melanie's kitten heals clicking against the concrete was more comforting than the brutish clomps of Frank’s shoes.

	His eyes shrank lower and rested longingly at the black wires webbed around the city.  Ravenish birds were perched along the electrical threads like Gothic ornaments about to remind Peter of something important, or maybe it was not important at all.  All of his thoughts seemed important all of the time, and it often caused him to blindly retreat further into the unending maze of his insanity. It did not matter this time, anyhow, because the clicking of Melanie’s patent leather heels stopped making sounds.  Peter’s left arm extended backwards until his muscle and shoulder pulled into an annoying sensation that caused Peter to stop walking and carefully crept his head around to study Melanie’s paused motions.  A slight twitch to his upper lip curled gingerly into a timid half-smile, “Why do you stand — swaying — oh slender birch tree?” His head slowly titled to the side as the vampire’s undead eyes met the Retainer’s mortal stare. 

	Their eyes drifted from each other’s as Peter’s attention drifted toward’s the thin lines of his Retainer’s gloves. Melanie made such a better front, escort, companion. She attracted more attention than he did, which was a comforting thought when the understanding did pass his way.   His smile began to complete itself, but the scene on his face quickly dissipated with the concerned sound of Melanie’s genteel voice, “We’re here, Scott,” there was a tad of lipstick on her front tooth that had smudged from such a heavy application of the rose cosmetic.  It caught the Malkavian’s attention more than the words, but still, Peter’s engrossment flickered between the painted, perched lips and his surroundings until finally planting his eyes hungrily over The Sunset Lounge.

	Peter was not dressed as nicely as Melanie was, but he did not see any logistically sound reasoning to assume such an aesthetic identity for himself despite the oddity of his plain, colorless t-shirt and dark jeans, “A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest, hmm, my little [i]solnyshkah[/i]?” He stepped his body closer to Melanie and looked towards the sky cautiously, as if he expected something to fall from it.  He finally settled his agitated muscles as the realization that nothing would attack him convinced him thoroughly.  His grip tightened and lead Melanie beyond the opened door and into the bar.

	They both stood quietly upon entering as the vampire’s perception hopped around the glass backdrop and change of pace from the outside world, before eventually, gradually twisting his head to face his Retainer to quietly muse the words, “You don’t look your age, [i]solnyshkah.[/i]”  Peter’s eyes lingered on Melanie’s face until her rosy lips produced less seriousness to mouth some sort of [i]Thank you[/i] to him.  And, with a gentle flex of his muscle, he continued to pull her deeper and higher into The Sunset.  Alas, the silk threads were becoming lucid, again, and his concentration was crawling back into the light.