After watching Scor disappear behind the living room wall Aaric retires to his own bed. Leisurely glancing at his dresser he soon dismisses the petty thought of changing into some pajamas. Besides, what happens if yet another vampire decides to drop by and quickly whisk him away and he's stuck in boxers and a wife-beater? Preparedness isn't his best strength. He rubs his face as he slips under the covers, wishing to grind away the past few hours...even the past few minutes. Oh god. His head hits the pillow, cushioning his bustling mind. Cole found out. He left. How could--after everything we've ever been through--he left? It seems so completely unreal, so impossible! Fucking crazy! Vampires are in stupid fantasy books, not real life. His inner thought contradicts him: Well apparently they ARE in real life.
Aaric reaches out to take hold of the window's handle. He yanks it upward to savor the night-time breeze that whistles through. The distant blaring of car horns follows his fingertips as they burrow back under the covers. His face scrunches in misery as he rediscovers the remains of his cell phone in pathetic pieces on the floor.
"Why me?" he murmurs.
-The Next Morning-
Scor's eyelids flicker open as the comforting scent of frying eggs curls into his nose. He rises from the couch, running a pale hand through his greasy hair as his nose crinkles in disgust. He must take a shower before he goes to HQ. Arms stretch high above his head as the wool quilt slips from his torso, standing up to inspect the odor. He wanders into the kitchen nook of the living room and perks an eyebrow as he spots Aaric hunched over the oven.
Aaric pauses to snatch a peek over his shoulder at the idle Scor. "Hey."
"What're you doing?" Scor's eyes flash with familiar curiosity.
Aaric scratches his cheek lazily feeling his fingernails graze his budding whiskers. "Eggs. I thought I'd cook. Maybe the fumes would clean my mind."
Scor laughs sharply, causing Aaric to jump. "Clean your mind? That's a funny way of looking at it." He watches with slight irritation as Aaric sluggishly draws the spatula through the frying eggs, choosing to neglect Scor's comment. "Why not take a walk? Rob a store. Take a woman's purse. Nothing's more refreshing than committing a felony."
He sighs. "No thanks. I'll just...cook." He scrapes at the burnt egg bits sticking to the side of the pan, really possessing no intention of eating them.
Scor groans. "Listen, Aaric--"
"I know, I'll just not show up for work so I can come to that place with you...whatever it's called."
He grinds his teeth together while growing increasingly bitter. "Aaric, for god's sake, forget about your friend! He wasn't that great anyway!" Aaric nods. "Aaric!"
"Hm?" He looks up slowly.
"Never mind," he mutters. "Where's your bathroom? I need a shower."
Aaric's heart jumpstarts, arm snapping up to gesture toward the restroom. He watches guiltily as Scor walks off wearing a shade of anger. Once he hears the door slam shut he shoves the pan into the sink and leans against the counter, head bowed. He doesn't mean to wear such a party-pooping attitude and he doesn't even know exactly why. Cole was a great friend but last night he spent hours lying awake processing the pros and cons of their friendship. Of course Cole was a great guy and he cherishes all their great memories but he's starting a new chapter in his life, a new chapter that could flip his entire life around--for worse or for better.
Either way he would be forgetting his old life and taking on something much bigger. Cole pulled jokes he didn't appreciate and when Aaric needed a real piece of advice on dating or important matters Cole would play it off like a huge joke.
"Come on, Aaric," Aaric whispers. "You're lucky to be alive, remember?" He looks up to the bathroom door. "Scor may not be your exact idea of a great friend, but he's the best you have. You may even be the best he has either." He shakes his head and rolls his neck, releasing a deep breath. He strides over to the bathroom door and quietly knocks. "Scor?" The splashing of water sounds from within as well as the heavy spray of water from the shower head. "Scor..." He pushes open the door, feeling the warm steam moisten his face. He meets the blurry silhouette of Scor still clear through the fogged up doors. "Oh...Scor--I didn't--" The water suddenly shuts off, Scor reaching to slide open the door. Before it can open all the way he snatches a hanging crimson towel from the top shower pole, wrapping it around his waist before stepping out. Aaric feels himself grow warm as his eyes feast on the perspired Scor.
"Might not want to be here. I don't want to play games with you," he snarls.
"No...it--it's okay. I just wanted to say that I'm--sorry. I didn't mean to be a jackass."
He watches Scor perform his signature jeer. "Such a good boy. I forgive you." Scor steps forward and strokes Aaric's cheek lightly. "Hm, you might want to shave before you go. Unless you want to go for that rugged look. Kind of sexy," he snickers.
"Talk about rugged," Aaric begins. "Your hair is slicked back. That's rugged."
"Is that sexy?" Scor smirks, hand clamped tightly on the towel wrapped around his waist.
Before Aaric can even realize what he's saying he spits out a reply. "Take that towel off and then we'll talk---Oh!" He claps a hand over his mouth. "Shit, I--what?"
"Cocky." Scor laughs, pushing Aaric out of the bathroom. "You're funny." The door swings shut.
"What the hell!" Aaric hisses, running off to his room. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the hell is my problem?" Whipping around to meet his mirror Aaric slams his hands down on the dresser beneath, staring at himself harshly in the mirror. His deep brown eyes only seem to darken as he re-evaluates his actions. "God!" He turns his head to the side in disgust and clenches his jaw shooting angry bursts of air out of his nostrils, much like an enraged bull ready to charge.
A bold, somewhat--no, definite--idiotic thing to say to Scor. Such a cocky thing to say though it never really processed correctly in his mind that it may prove inappropriate. He finds himself thoroughly ashamed, but on the other hand he wasn't lying. Scor looked damn sexy...and he knew it. Still, he argues quietly, that didn't mean that it was a-okay to just blurt out. Ridiculous. He never would have said such a thing before Scor showed up. Of course who else was like Scor and would provoke such a comment?
"Aaric are you going to change your clothes?" Scor's voice questions suddenly wrenching Aaric from his train of thought. He glimpses over his shoulder to the now dry Scor. His hair is blown dry, black highlights looking especially vivid in the bright light of morning and he wears a pair of torn black skinnies with gothic studded belt along with loose maroon checkered shirt and hoodie he had worn the previous night, infamous Chuck Taylors on his feet and thin leather spiked collar tied around his neck.
"Uhm..."
"I suppose you'll have to move though, and getting a whole new wardrobe would be a great priority. After the meeting we'll look or something. I don't know. Virge may have other plans for you." He chuckles, stuffing his hands into his front pockets as he leans into the doorway.
"Who exactly IS Virge?" he questions timidly, turning around.
Scor takes Aaric's coat from the desk beside him and tosses it to the curious Aaric. "Looks like you'll find out, won't you?" He sighs as he pulls the coat on, knowing that he can't possibly achieve a more insightful answer. "Come on!" Scor calls on his way to the front door.
"I'm coming!" he responds, hurrying out.
"Let's hope not," Scor jeers under his breath once Aaric joins him. "Come on," he repeats before Aaric opens his mouth to question. "We'll take a taxi."
-Later-
Both of the men step down a dark alley way as the fumes of underground construction rise from the sewers, cloaking the ground and climbing with anxious fingers up the brick walls.
"Where are we--?"
"Ssh!" Scor hisses. "This way." He leads the awe-struck mortal down another alley heading straight for a set of steel doors attached to what seems to be a large warehouse. "Now shut up and stay that way, sound good enough?" Scor snatches Aaric's hood as he yanks him through the doors into a gigantic field of blackness. Words of strong opposition gnaw at Aaric's tightly clamped lips, that is until the two reach a small room cloaked in red light. Several figures laze about the occasional loveseat or couch, murmuring softly amongst each other. All of them look like they could relate to Scor in the means of fashion: all gothic. Studs, spikes, rips, and lace.
"Scorpios you're rather late," one of the females muses, an appreciatory smile painted on her deep crimson lips. "Is this your friend we've been hearing so very much about?" The woman straightens, seemingly older than Scor, perhaps in her mid to early 20s. Her long legs are constrained in fishnet stockings that reach all the way up to her thighs where the lacey edge of her red and black plaid skirt ends. Around her torso is a black corset with numerous zippers to invisible pockets, pin-striped gloves covering her arms and a similar studded collar wrapped around her pale neck. Sleek, flowing blonde hair drapes behind her shoulders, bangs swept over her eyes. At first Aaric suspects the red light ahead playing tricks on him but after careful scrutiny he soon realizes that the woman's irises are indeed a deep ruby color.
"Aaric, yes. He's quite a lot of fun," Scor smirks. "I think he'll prove quite handy to our investigation."
"Handy, eh?" a male questions. Aaric turns his eyes on this vampire, hair a deep bronze with translucent blue eyes. "Is that all you need him for?"
Scor's eyes flicker with rage though his voice is monotonous. "We've never had a mortal on the inside before and it'd prove extremely helpful for convincing mortals into our bidding. As for your comment, I'm sorry you don't perk my...interest...quite as much, Gem." The one called Gem flashes a snarl, Scor harvesting a derogatory smirk.
"You little shit, you--"
"Little?" Scor interrupts. "Why I'm five foot eleven, Gem, a whole 4 inches taller than you. If anyone here, you are the little one...."
"Shut up! You should've killed the little fucker when I told you to!" Gem snarls.
"All of you, quiet!" a voice commands from behind Aaric. Scor places a hand over Aaric's shoulder as he jumps from the sudden outburst. His fingers curve to cup Aaric's shoulder sympathetically. The voice belongs to a lanky figure with squared shoulders who steps into the circle of bloody light from the opaqueness surrounding them. A long black trench coat cloaks him but is shed as he treks farther into the tight circle. The lights reflect off his jet black hair, kept short yet long enough to brush forward to achieve feathery bangs. His hair looks like Cole's, Aaric remarks silently. Only, this figure's facial features are far more sharp and threatening. His nose is narrow at the bridge curving at the end, nostrils flaring slightly as his eyes set in on Gem. The brilliant green iris's twinkle with malice as he opens his mouth. "Gemini, must I constantly remind you to KEEP your temper. Besides, I believe that you haven't suggested any other options to access the VINIC, whereas your fellow order members, Capricorn and Scorpio, have. In fact, you haven't done anything about the matter in, say, 200 years?" he questions coldly.
"I understand," Gem murmurs, head bowed. "I'm deeply sorry Virgo."
Virgo scoffs. "I'm not the one who requires the apology." His eyes flick to Scor, though they soften. "Scor, welcome. This is Aaric, correct?" Scor nods firmly. "Good, we have all the members here to vote on his fate.
Scor then looks over his shoulder. "Capricorn, if you would..."
Cole pauses, speculating quietly. He isn't quite dim enough, though several of these vampires may suspect so, to dismiss the facts presented to him. Virgo, probably the Virge Scor told him about, seems to command this group. And the group. Cole can't quite get over why all of their names represent the signs of the zodiac. Re-evaluating Virge's words he realizes that he had said that all of them were there, but he only spots 5 members in all. Gemini, Scor, Virgo, Capricorn, and another female around Capricorn's age seated quietly beside Gemini. There are more than 7 signs on the zodiac, right? Cole muses. But why would their names be the signs? It doesn't make sense...
"Aaric," a female voice coos, "this way, dearie." Aaric blinks his eyes several times, vision readjusting on the vampire woman who Scor had briefly spoken to several moments ago. He nervously glances over at Scor, though his face is carved with firm agreement so Aaric leads himself out beside her. "They shouldn't be long, at least I don't believe so." Her words sound like shreds of lace lightly stroking Aaric's ears, coaxing him down from the unsettling situation. An accent, he thinks. It clearly relates to Scor's: almost an olden English, something he can't quite put his finger on.
"What exactly are they deciding? Scor wouldn't tell me much," he murmurs, studying the door they had exited.
"Oh, Scorpios, he likes to keep secrets, doesn't he? The order is deciding whether or not to use you on our mission to capture the VINIC. You see, I don't need to be in there right now because I've already decided along with Libra."
Aaric pauses and turns back to her. "Why do all of your names belong to the Zodiac? I'm—confused…"
She chuckles slightly. "Well, it's actually a somewhat confusing topic to explain. You see we are indeed the sign of the name we possess but we hardly reflect the personality of the sign at all. It's quite intriguing actually, before some of us were turned—into vampires—we had the personalities to match our signs, but afterwards we adopted new personality traits. Now they weren't drastic, mind you, but still didn't link to our signs. Those who were born vampires merely lacked the traits all together."
"So…uhm," he starts, struggling to wrap his head around the information. "So what do the signs mean now? Are they just names or…?"
"No, no of course not. Actually part of why we have these signs are because of the powers we bear. Each name possesses an element, as you may know." She waits for Aaric to nod slowly. "Each element, mine being earth, is the element that the members are able to control. This is far different from regular vampires because regular vampires don't carry any extra abilities at all besides extreme strength and speed. This is the true reason behind our names. Virgo was the first of our order, he organized it nearly 300 years ago. As an orphan he had no one to explain to him why he could make rocks rise or trees grow, while other vampires could not. After doing much research he drew the conclusion that we were the descendents of an ancient Vampyre order: The Zodiac. Of course he had to find us all. Once explaining to us why we were all so different we joined him. Why wouldn't we? He was the only one who ever loved us for who we are, not because of our powers, which are what others seemed to only focus on. He gave us our new names and shred our old to build a new life. But as you can tell he hasn't even found all of us yet. That's why we need the VINIC. VINIC stands for Vampyre Information Necessary In Co-alliance: a newly created device that catalogs all vampires born and created, and even their power."
"That's incredible," he breathes in fascination. "How did he know that some of you were Zodiac members if you were still mortal?"
Capricorn gives a pleased smirk. "Trial and error, my dear. That and haven't you seen our eyes? They're our stones. Mine, obviously, is garnet, Scor's amethyst, and so on."
He cocks his eyebrow, shoulders squaring as he faces her with shocking realization that what this woman is saying actually makes sense. "Why are you telling me all of this? I'm just a mortal. I don't even know if they'll keep me," he says, suspicion rising.
She only continues to smirk.
"Capricorn," a quiet female voice says from the doorway. Both glance over to spot a woman similar to Capricorn in age. Her hair is a copper brown with lush waves ending just beneath her shoulders, eyes an incredible mystifying blue with brilliant green mixing: something Aaric has never seen before. "We've reached a decision."