Such Fragile, Broken Things [White] [pg13]

[Anzeh]

Vampire were, in Zayn's own opinion, such fragile things.

They had so many weaknesses that they almost seemed on par with humans. The only thing that kept them separate from everyone else was that they were immortal.

You know, except for the garlic, running water, stake, sunlight, hallow ground and whatever else these sad sad creatures could be killed by.

Vampires were a teenage girl's fantasy, but they really seemed kind of useless. What could they do other than run fast and pick up heavy stuff? Zayn could run fast and pick up heavy stuff, and on top of that he could fly and was priority one for most militias to apprehend. But girls didn't swoon over him. Girls didn't throw themselves at him, lusting to be bitten or experimented on.

Instead, they ran from him when he told them that he was a nightmare. For whatever reason, mortals were biased against the humble creature that skulked the dreams of the meek and destroyed the aspirations of the bold. But succubi and incubi did the same, and the mortals practically bum-rushed THEM.

As Zayn walked down the streets of the Dry District, he mused on how fun it would be to dissect a vampire. On second thought, he thought it would just be like dissecting a human... or maybe a recently expired corpse. There was no fun in dissecting those--he had dissected dozens and dozens of those. Frankly, if you dissected one you might as well have dissected them all.

But... then again there was the problem of that other vampire... what was his name... White? He was the founder of this place, and he probably wouldn't appreciate his denizens being dissected or eaten or tossed into a fish tank with ravenous piranhas.

Maybe he could get one without him knowing... yeah... he could definitely do that.

Well, you know, after he finished running this stupid errand for his sister.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=332929] As good an idea as the Dry District sounded, it was a hell of a disadvantage. Well, if ya had the school setting, then there were curfews and Crane's henchmen were always prowling around to help. Wasn't any school anymore, so you couldn't just visit Sol in the daytime and bunk down safe next door until morning. Made sense to make the place livable. A town of vampires was damn lifeless, pardon the pun. But then you had to deal with both the vampires and the non-vampires. One side wanted food, and the other side didn't want to get gnawed on in their beds. Wasn't easy to enforce a law that everyone in town hated, and he'd figure it was still creepy as **** to live right next to a bunch of blooduskers. Yeah, not one of his best ideas. Worked out so far though. Maybe it was because he kept an eye on the Dry District. Not that he liked the rule as much as anyone else on his side of the fence, but he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna follow his own laws. They were there for a reason. People could say that about most laws, but he kept his simple. So he didn't have carnage every night, he made a safe zone. And it was pretty damn effective as far as he could tell. The Dry District was modeled kinda like a gated community. Went with the general upscale looks of the new town, and that way it was clear which side of the line you're on when night fell. White had just entered and was picking his way around the perimeter, idling as usual with smoke in hand. That didn't stop him from noticing someone new was in town though. Seemed familiar, but at the same time he didn't know who it was. Unusual for him, not to remember someone. He'd have given it more thought, but since whoever it was was walking his way, he'd settle for a look instead. Something about candy...

[Anzeh]

"Ah White." Zayn said as he walked up to the vampire that Zuri had spared no detail in describing. She made it very clear that she would hurt him if he got it wrong.
Not that there was anything that Zuri could do to him that he couldn't return sevenfold, but she was a word-that rhymed with witch about this stuff. He came up to the vampire and noticed that he was a little shorter than Zuri described. It was normal, she was short-ish.

"Just the vampire I wanted to see."

He supposed he ought to just launch into the thing about the gun and what she wanted with it, but he was tempted to ask about taking on the of the vampires for experimentation first.

But what if he asked that and White decided not to give him the gun and ammunition? Though, from what Zuri told him, White and Coyle were at odds with each other on almost everything. Why should this be any different?

...

He'd keep the dissection question until the very end, just in case.

"I need a gun... the gun that can hold the most rounds." Zayn thought. There was something else. Something about rounds... "Some special rounds... the kind that Coyle hates."

Wait. Was he not supposed to reveal the ultimatum that blatantly?

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=332929] Some days it just payed to be indifferent. Like now for example. Here he was wondering about the guy and he walks up and starts a conversation. He didn't say much, but it was enough for White to fill in most of the blanks. He remembered Zuri, and this guy even looked a lot like she did. Siblings, definitely. Explains why he knew White's name without being introduced, and it also explained why he knew about the "special rounds" that Coyle hates. Rumor was, Coyle got himself a girlfriend to go along with that brat of his. That girlfriend was Zuri, and after finding out about Coyle's little stunt a while back, she recruited her brother to ask about the rounds that he hadn't used much except on the bigger nasties like Coyle. Question was, why did Zuri want "the rounds that Coyle hates"? Well, he could probably figure that one out, but he didn't think the little monsters would give such a **** about that. So what if the purple fag had been out without his girlfriend? It was just like Coyle to dig himself into holes and fill in the dirt around him. He said it was "fun." A lot of things were "fun" to Coyle, so it wasn't surprising. White shrugged to himself, wordlessly. Oh well. If Zuri was mad she was mad. White was a bit ****ed about Coyle too. The guy just rubbed off on people that way. Taking a steady draw, White decided what his part was in all this. It wasn't a hard decision. Still, he wasn't sure about this brother guy. Bothered White for some reason. He exhaled, still thinking. "And you are?" Seemed a fair question to ask. White was already more than willing to have Coyle shot. In White's opinion, he needed a few more rounds to the head before he'd stop making life difficult like some goddamn disease. However, he wasn't in any rush to get back at Coyle. He'd wanted to shoot Coyle from the first time he met him. And that was what, a few hundred years now? He could wait a little longer. What stuck out to him is what this guy, or his sister, would do with his custom rounds. Wasn't as simple as smelting up some better steel, and it wasn't all magical either. He'd dabbled here and there, and it'd taken him a long time to make ammunition that could stop the big, mean critters of the world. That kinda stuff isn't just given away. First, they talked.

[Anzeh]

"And you are?"

Zayn raised his eyebrow and massaged his head. He wasn't aggravated. He just didn't like vampires. They smelled like dirt and death and decay. This particular vampire smelled like fine scotch or something of the kind. White was starting to give him a migraine.

"I am your Great Uncle Gertrude." He muttered out of reflex. After a second he realized what had actually come out of his mouth, and rather than excuse himself for the rudeness, he grinned. White already knew who he was, he bet. Did he want a name for his datebook?

"Actually..." Zayn began, putting his hands into his pockets as he mused on this situation. He'd been hoping to get the gun and get out of here, but it seemed like the vampire wanted to talk before he affirmed or declined the request. "My name is Zayn. Zayn Makkuro."

The nightmare rolled his mismatched eyes. "But I'm sure you already guessed. Family resemblance and ****." He sincerely didn't want to pick at White's brain, as he had already divided it up accordingly in his head while Zuri explained him to Zayn before leaving. All this conversation was doing thus far was confirming his original thoughts about him and his head.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=332929] Didn't know why he didn't care. Well, no. He knew that. Didn't know why he didn't give a **** is more like it. He was aware the kid didn't want to be here. He didn't like White, and he just wanted to get this over with and get out fast. Which was fine with him, but he shouldda done his homework. If he had, he'd know that there was no "fast" when dealing with White. In demonstration of this, he took a languid draw, smiling wryly as the smoke escaped when he talked. "Yer not old enough to be my relative." He thought for a minute to make sure, then continued. "Didn't have the gadgets to make a lab rat like you when I was alive." Whether it was by word of mouth or if he could just tell, he was usually able to guess stuff like this. Coyle, for example. That thing definitely wasn't from around here. And Crane wasn't as sinister as everyone thought. Just like that, he was getting a kinda unnatural vibe from this kid. "Zayn? Zuri and Zayn..." he mused, just enough interest to find it funny how even their names were alike. "Yeah, I knew, but it's good to have names." Despite all that fancy figuring out, he still couldn't magic up a name for someone. Sure, it was easy enough to piece together the rest of it, but he wasn't that good. Took too much effort when you could just ask. "Well, Zayn," White started, then tried to decide what he was going to do to waste this kid's time. The truth might work. "Why do you think I'd give you something like that without bein' suspicious?" He didn't need to say, that exploding **** hurt more than Coyle. It scraped up stuff with scales, and it was fireproof enough not to be completely liquefied by all those fiery types out there. Went through water pretty deep if ya wanted to shoot something down there, not to mention it was a ***** on things without hides, like - say - vampires. White crossed his arms into the sides of his jacket. There was a reason he always wore jackets. Kinda obvious that he'd be carrying at least one gun, but it wasn't nice to go flashing it around to people. He actually had one of the guns Zayn wanted with him now. Good to keep it on hand, in case he met an unfriendly heavy-hitter. Like Zayn. White flicked the safety off, then pulled the gun from its holster. Instead of shooting Zayn though, He pointed it at the ground and opened the cylinder. The gun itself was a revolver, not a semi-automatic. Complicated mechanisms like that broke. Solid pieces of metal didn't do that as much, so he went with a revolver. Also meant there were no shells to worry about, so the bullets were made of more of that painful metal. Besides, there was something real threatening about a classic revolver. Russian Roulette was played with revolvers. White closed the cylinder and clicked the safety back on. He was still on the fence as to having this punk kid shoot Coyle or not.

[Anzeh]

Zayn wasn't always impatient. In fact, doing what he did and watching how those strange little organics responded to different chemicals required astounding amounts of patience. The only reason he was so impatient here was because he didn't like who he was talking to... not to mention that he didn't know White. He was one of those denizens that you'd probably would have had some interaction with if the bar was one of your usual haunts.

But he didn't like vampires. White was a vampire. This entire neighborhood was full of vampires.

Still, Zuri was his sister and she brought new meaning to that good old saying about hell and fury and women. Sure he was stronger than her, but Zuri had a strange method of striking fear into his heart. He had stood up to armies of Russians and the superior military might of china--yet his little sister was the thing that made him afraid.

That was some serious power that she had behind her.

So he took a deep breath and calmed his frayed nerves. Lounging around for a little while wouldn't kill him. Well, there was no evidence supporting that it would. White didn't have a reason to kill him... then again, who killed with reason nowadays?

Hearing the comment about his origins and how he couldn't possibly be one of White's relatives, He simply shrugged. "They didn't have test tube babies in your time? What a travesty."

Now that Zayn had forced himself into being calm, (which was hard to do since he basically had a feral animal clamoring against the inner walls of his body) he noticed that he didn't have anything better to do today. Well, except that little Moogle-creature that he had been dissecting... did he remember to sew that one up?

He was sure it was fine.

The nightmare raised an eyebrow at the question. "I didn't say anything about you giving it to me without being suspicious. Suspich away." Zayn watched as White took a gun out of his jacket and point it at the ground. He flipped the safety off and opened it, then closed it back.

"Zuri told me that you've dealt in worst things than illegal gun trading or whatever... and besides, I was under the impression that you hated Coyle."

[/color]

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,470,true]

[bg=332929] Well now the kid wanted to talk. That was good, because White didn't make any deals without talking. You could say he came from a time where people were closer and all that fancy machinery that texted and emailed and telephoned wasn't invented yet to replace human contact, but really, talking was the best way to communicate. You could lie all you wanted with letters, but words were a lot harder to sell than keyboard strokes. For example... "Well, there were a lot of pointless, parentless kids running around. Don't think there's much a difference between making 'em the natural or artificial way." Usually, White was the last to pick a fight. No use in it a lot of times, and he wasn't all that big a fan of violence himself. Especially when something big and bad as Zayn was involved. But, he'd risk it to learn a little more about the kid. See, some people liked to bully their way through things. And some of 'em could hold back long enough to make some kinda arrangement. Didn't make a difference which one White was talking to now, but it was good to know. White laughed, letting the comment of what he did slide for mention of Coyle. "You met Coyle? No one who's met the little roach likes him. He's evil." And by evil, he meant annoying as hell. Truth was, he'd let nearly anyone who walked up to him and asked for a way to hurt Coyle buy a gun off him, but that wasn't the point here. Aside from getting to know this kid better, there was something specific he'd like to hear first. Coyle was an annoying, childish monster; but he was also smart. Who else has a gun that can hurt him that much? And Coyle won't connect the dots if he figures out White sold his own personal brand of Coyle-torture to someone else? - an' more, to his angry wife. Now there's a problem he didn't need. But there were ways outta that. First they talked. Then they'd worry about what this aftermath would look like.

[Anzeh]

It was a shame really. Zayn was actually a huge fan of human interactions. They were so much fun to look at and monitor like a common experiment. Everything everyone did was an experiment with something new. A new experience to convey, a new conversation to start, a new word to use. It was Zayn's fixation and obession to record these interactions for all to see. And frankly, in order to track lies through IMing and text and email required some background on the people in question, in the situation in question. And that required too many wasted hours of servaillence.

Well, that wasn't to say that he didn't watch everyone anyway, it just required too much sifting through recordings. Not that he didn't do that either, he just didn't want to do it because it would end up going down a line of he-said-she-said. He hated when that happened. Information was almost never accurate. Months had been wasted going down those flimsy, insubstantial lines.

Zayn had to give White that one. But since he wouldn't get anywhere without standing here and talking, he might as well keep it up. "Not true. See, at least with us artificial kids our 'parents'--" he placed languid air quotations around parents-- "continue to look and care for us long after we're escape the flaming ruins of their lab."

In actuality, Zayn had met Coyle. And their little morsel of food, Caramel. But in general, Zayn was apathetic towards Coyle. Though the fact that he had the mental capacity to draw complex dots but chose instead to marvel on the simplest things left him dumbfounded--he longed to dissect him and pick at his entirely unique brain--he restrained himself only on Zuri's order.

Why did she want this gun if she could just give Coyle to him? It was as though she was teasing him. Uncool. Still, he supposed he saw White's concern. If he gave him the gun (and he would then give it to Zuri) it wouldn't be far-fetched that he would be able to trace it back to White, which could prove to be problematic...

"Meh. My vendetta is purely on the business of my sister. That's not to say I wouldn't give anything to be able to cut him open... If I found anything..."

Zayn sighed and rubbed his head. There was this painful sensation, like someone driving a stake through his frontal lobe. That was never a good sensation. It always meant that that instinctual part of him was getting angry. He wanted to be out and about.