It was z and Jinx, with the doom cannon, in the world of darkness
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It's 1 AM. Black-clothed people crowd the small club, jostling and sidling closer to the stage, craning their necks to get a glimpse of the band beyond the flashing red stage lights. 

"Angelspit! Angelspit! Angelspit!" 

A man with ragged, scraggly hair and a torn-up pinstripe suit mounts the stage, followed by a woman with close-cropped, white-bleached hair and an outfit of 90% PVC. Tearing a mic from its holder, he grins at the crowd. 

"I'm Zoog Von Rock, this is DestroyX, we are Angelspit, fuck this club!" 

He smashes his hands down onto a keyboard, filling the room with a distorted synth tone as DestroyX steps up to the mic. 

"My friends used to show off their tats - 
Now they talk about filling their bank vaults. 
Mellow is the new fad -
Your life is fucked, and it's all your fault!
You used to be dangerous and fun, 
before you got that mortgage. 
Killed by mediocrity, procrastination, blah blah, 
now you vote Conservative.

The people of influence are cynical and jaded -
what hope for the new blood? 
Habitat destruction, fate turns to 
A world imploding under mass boredom
A sleeping generation can't embrace the shock:
There's nothing left to embrace.
I needed motivation: you sent a postcard
that said 'punk rock', well fuck you too."

The crowd loves it. 

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A pale twelve-year-old girl sits in an ostensibly-soundproofed back room, and smiles a little at the lyrics drifting through the wall. Some things don't change much.

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This isn't, strictly speaking, his scene. He straddles the punk/goth line a little too closely for that. But the rumors were way too good for him to give this club a miss. The usual vampire-subculture wannabes are one thing, but ones that actually go ahead and bite? That's his style. So he put on a little more leather and changed out his earrings and went.

He watches the band, but he's looking around him much more than the other patrons are.

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If he's looking for a vampire, that woman over there with the flat expression, blood red hair, and aura of "don't waste my time" is probably a better candidate than most.

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Looks good to him. Although...you can't really tell, with goth clubs. Everybody looks a little like a vampire.

He pushes his way expertly through the crowd and approaches her.

"Hey."

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She looks at him. 

"Hm?"

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"There's some kind of vampire thing going on here, right?"

It's probably sort of gauche to just say it outright like that. Oh well.

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That slight eyebrow raise might indicate surprise. 

"Oh. You're one of the LARPers?" 

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Aww, no.

"I mean, I wouldn't go that far. I just heard..."

He touches the side of his neck.

If this is just a bunch of people pretending to bite, he's gonna be so disappointed.

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The woman stares at him flatly.

"Third door on the left in the back, the one marked Employees Only. Say Soph sent you."

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Sweet.

"Thanks. I owe you one."

He grins with obvious excitement and heads for the back as fast as he can without looking incredibly suspicious. He still looks a little suspicious.

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Grungy hallways that might have been stylish once. More expressionless security types. And, after a few turns through the corridors, a small private lounge, more or less soundproofed, with a twelve-year-old girl perched on a huge leather chair. 

She looks up at him and frowns. In the background, Angelspit moves on to a new song. 

I love the way that you sweat when you lie,
Hearing you beg always makes me smile, 
It turns me on when your honey starts to drip
As I put on the thumbscrews, and tighten their grip.

She sighs. "Why are you here, exactly?"

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...wait, what.

"I, uh...was looking for the. Vampire thing. Wherever that's happening."

The song in the background is not improving the experience of finding a 12-year-old where he was expecting...anything other than that.

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"I see. And you expected a vampire thing because...?"

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"...heard it from a guy who heard it from a guy. Who had some great bite marks."

He's beginning to think he's walked into some kind of trap.

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She sighs. "And you're... into being bitten...?"

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"Well, uh, not that specifically?"

The tone implies 'but, if you bit me, I would be into it'.

"...aren't you way too young to get in here?"

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The corner of her mouth quirks upward.

"Your hand." 

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"My...hand?"

He holds it up reflexively, as if questioning whether it really belongs to him.

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She rolls her eyes. "Give me your hand."

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"Oh." Right, he's an idiot.

He holds it out.

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She takes his hand, then pulls with sudden strength, far beyond that of a twelve-year-old girl. Dipping her head, she bites down hard on his exposed wrist, fangs piercing skin.

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He stumbles forward, and doesn't even have time to ask what she's doing before there's a sharp stab of pain in his wrist.

A few things click into place in his mind.

1) She's not twelve.

2) Those are real fangs.

3) This isn't an edgy vampire subculture thing.

He's...going to put his worries about that on hold until he can stop thinking mostly about how fucking amazing her teeth feel in his arm.

He sinks slowly down to his knees, keeping his wrist held up for her.

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A few moments later, she takes her fangs from his wrist, and grabs his chin, lifting his face to stare into his eyes. 

"That was for the 'too young' comment. Now, listen closely..."

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He was going to object in some way, for a moment -- at the very least, to tell her that that wasn't exactly a punishment -- but she's tilting his face up, holding his gaze, and...

He can't remember, suddenly, what he was going to say. He can't imagine why he'd ever want to look away. She was so strong, when she pulled him forward, and the way she moves him lets him know that he's beneath her. She's beautiful, untouchable, perfect...

He would nod, if he could. Instead he just stares up at her, completely mesmerized.

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Looking into her eyes is like falling.

"I was never-" 

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