tony_dee_RPs
Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2011
- Posts
- 34
Charisma
He hadn't fed in over a month. He had allowed his abilities -- the other Family Members called them powers -- to wane until he was feeling almost human once again; it was liberating somehow to be normal every so often, to be just a man again.
But it was time to get back to the new normal. Not feeding meant not being able to be out during the day time; in this state of hunger, the sunlight was like an overdose of morphine to him and his kind, slowing their hearts and minds until they slipped into comas from which there was no escape.
So much for immortality, he thought.
Hollywood had it so wrong about his kind, about what others termed Vampires. The Family didn't use the word Vampire; it insinuated an undead creature, first off, which they weren't. They were just as much alive as the next man or woman. They were just ... different.
Sure, The Members survived on the blood of humans. That was accurate at least. And there was no substitute, which Hollywood occasionally depicted correctly. There was no feeding on wild animals, no visits to the Blood Bank or local ranch to sip from a cow's neck; there were no artificial blood substitutes, either. It was fresh, warm blood, right out of a vein or artery of a true human that sustained The Family Members.
The Family Members had abilities that were beyond that of mere humans, too, but few of them had ever been accurately depicted in film or on the tube before.
His was the ability to simply fade from the awareness of others. It wasn't invisibility, per se; he was still there, still present. If he were to speak to someone or contact them physically, they would not only know he was there but would, subconsciously, realize that he always had been. They wouldn't remember what he was doing during that time. This had come in very handy over the years when he needed cash and some teller or store clerk turned her back on her till.
Another thing movie writers had both gotten right and wrong over the years was that each Member had a different ability. The characters from "Twilight" -- another got it so wrong Hollywood output -- suddenly flashed into his brain, making him smile. In fact, he couldn't recall two of his brethren ever having the same ability -- aside from extended life and Charisma -- and he was going on his hundred and twentieth year this month, so he'd had many a relative to compare.
Charisma: this was the true ability, the one that he would honestly call a power. Hungry or recently gorged, Charisma was always there, or could be in a moment, as it had to be turned on. It was the one factor that allowed them to succeed in a competitive world that had little room for people who were different; gays, illegal immigrants, believers of lesser religions were persecuted in the press somewhere every day -- how would they react to learn there were people out there sucking the blood of their friends, family, and neighbors, then using their restored powers to get ahead in the world they were leaching off of?
Finishing the last of his coffee, and seeing the sun just beginning to rise up from behind the mountain range to the east, he scanned the cafe -- looked over its patrons, particularly the females -- and found what he thought he wanted. She was sitting in a corner booth with a large book, possibly a text book, in her hands, an opened spiral notebook near her pen-wielding hand. Student? Business woman? A young mom or nanny planning the week's care and activities of the children in her charge?
He couldn't be sure, but one thing that was certain: the ring on her left hand was supporting a large enough diamond to imply that someone would be upset about him moving in on her. He scanned the cafe again, wondering whether he should take the easy way out and pick someone more likely to be unattached. But his gaze returned to her; she was young, beautiful, shapely, and very occupied with what she was doing, and busy people were more easily influenced when the charm was turned on.
He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, released it ... and felt the rush of warmth flow through his body. He set the coffee mug aside, gesturing to the teenage Barista that he was done. By the time he'd risen, gathered his coat and newspaper, and turned to leave, the shop worker was at this table, thanking him for his business and collecting his dishware on a tray.
Suddenly, she froze. She turned, facing him with a longing look in her eyes. She set the tray on the booths table top and inched a bit closer to him. In a dreamy voice, she asked, "Are you done, sir...? Can I get you anything more...? A muffin ... pastry...? You're not leaving yet, are you...? Can you stay around ... you know ... I get off in--"
A broad smiled filled his face as she rambled on. Teenage girls, ravaged by hormones, were the easiest. Even so, he shied away from them; they tended to have parents who monitored their every move -- or at least tried to -- making it very hard to use and abuse them in the way he could an adult woman, already out in the world away from the Folks.
He leaned in as she talked, made firm eye contact with her, then passed his hand, fingers splayed, between their gazes like some cheap, Vegas magician. She blinked, snapped out of the trance, and quickly backed up half a step. "Sorry... did, um ... um, did you need anything else, sir?"
Again, he smiled. He pulled a ten dollar bill from his pocket and set it on the table. "No thanks ... and that's for you."
He turned away, heading toward the corner booth, knowing -- almost reluctantly -- that later in the day, the Charisma would rise its ugly head in her subconsciousness, causing her to want that stranger in the coffee shop for reasons that she simply couldn't understand. It would wear off, he knew; it would take hours, possibly a day, but she'd forget ever having met him ... once she'd relieved the sexual tension running through her with another man ... or woman ... or simply on her own.
He slid into the corner booth across from the studying woman, and when she looked up at him in surprise, he quickly introduced himself. "My name is Robert..."
