Replacng Guinea Pigs (closed)

Ginnie stood with her elbow propped on the juke box and a whiskey laced coke in her hands. The thimble full of whiskey in her icey drink did two things for her. It gave her a cover if she wanted to play the "I'm so drunk, will you take me home?" card and it obliterated the scent of her last meal. As she sipped from her drink the com unit in her ear crackled.

"Newbie, less than a year, closer to six months."

Ginnie looked up and watched a leggy brunette walk in. The woman's breasts had to be the most painful set to carry around that Ginnie had ever seen. No wonder some schmuk turned her. She chuckled softly, her reader hadn't said a word about this girls...attributes. His usual snide remark was conspicuously missing. She'd picked one of the readers that was good at disguise and currently he was huddled outside the bar covered in filth and playing with a clover key chain. That key chain kept him from getting picked up by the cops and being attacked by any of her Clan.

She watched the brunette make her way to the bar and order a drink. Ginnie really didn't want to be out doing this crap. Except that the night of the Gala her lab rat had managed to kill her only female Guinea pig and now she had to hunt for another one.

What Ginnie did really amounted to torture, or it would if the vamps she experimented on were conscious. Newbies were easy to sedate and keep sedated. They also take longer to heal than older vamps, and if they were less than a year, three to six months was better, they healed even slower and she could actually watch the process.

She wiped condensation from her hand onto her shorter than average denim skirt, and made her way to the bar. She was dressed to wait tables, which is what she would be doing as soon as she caught her new Guinea pig, in a short blue jean mini skirt, and a black baby doll t-shirt with a yellow emoticon with red horns and a tail on the front, and on the back was the back view of the emote and the caption "You know you want to", and black strappy heels.

Her deal with Mike, the owner and bar tender of Uncle Mikes Mistake, was that she could hunt here, but she owed him a night's service. Uncle Mike's was a known vampire bar, but it was a place, much like House of Pain, that you didn't go unless you were old enough to hold your own, or with clan members, clan-less newbies were open fodder and they learned early not to come alone.

Ginnie liked Mike, he was a Tach vampire, but lived here above his bar and couldn't really careless about Clans and politics. He just ran his little bar and fed off the bar flies. So she felt she owed it to him to trade for her hunting rights.

Ginnie slid on to the bar stool next to the brunette. It was at a ninety degree angle to the girl, as she'd chosen to sit at the end of the bar, girl language for leave me the fuck alone, I just want a drink.

She reached over the brunette and crabbed a few cocktail napkins and wiped the water rings from the wood surface in front of her, and tossed them into a trash can behind the bar. She gave the girl a smile and sipped from her coke.

"Hi. So what brings you to Mike's?"