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Annie and Conrad (the former, not-quite monk) checked out of the hotel on JFK Boulevard 'vampire style.' That means they sublimated through the wall of the lobby without paying the bill. He couldn't sublimate yet, but she could. So they did this thing where he hugs onto her real tight and gets wrapped up in the energy emitted by her body. Then they sublimated into some sporting goods store and stole new sneakers. Annie likes Nike for kids. Conrad prefers 'Chuckies.' ---- monastic simplicity and all that. After, they sorta kinda killed a schizophrenic wino, 'cause he won't give 'em no little taste. Vampires can tolerate alcohol, don't you know. Annie claims the blood of diabetics tastes syrupy. She says there's all kinds a blood...pissy blood, beefy blood, asparagus blood, milk blood, shitty blood and fishy blood. More too, but I forget the rest.
Conrad says he's starting to hear voices. Annie tells him it's just the others. They can probably pick him up now and want to feel him out. Everything is so different in Philadelphia now. For a long time there was just Tomas, or Jonathon, or whatever you want to call him and Baylah. That lasted for like two hundred and forty years. Bob came along in the nineteen twenties, but he's dead. Luna stays with Doctor Franklin, so she don't count and Blackie and Minnie mostly keep to themselves.
Vampires are by nature very non-confrontational. They're quiet. They hide. They fit in. It's only in fiction, like on TV and all, that they have them nostril flaring battles and cat fights. You saw how Annie handled things? You saw what she did to Conrad. She converted him. Gave him a taste (not of the blood...of the magic). Got him hooked and reeled him in. That's what usually happens. Van Helsing my eye. All Dracula gotta do is dip him in some magic, some REAL MAGIC, I mean, and that dude not gonna be so eager to mutilate corpses. Well, 'almost' corpses, I mean. You know... vampires.
Please know I'm talking 'bout 'our kind' a life-eater. Them 'noxious' bastids is something else. And excuse me for leaving out the elves and cherubs. But I don't like to speak for them. Remember what we told you last night... about magic and all? Well, I'm gonna tell you some more.
Magic is energy...sentient energy. It's got a mind. It can think. It can feel things. I don't know who started it. I don't know where it came from. Don't go asking me that. But it's there and it's real.
Powerful vampires are the ones who can talk to it. They purr. They ask it things. That's how Papa gets it to string people up over the roiling surface of the sun. Annie too. She gets it from him. He is her 'daddy' after all.
You may be able to do a little bit of this. Let me give you an example. Ever walk by a street light that goes dark? Ever have a furry, little, golden honey bee hover right in front a your face, just like it trying to tell you something? Ever scared like you ain't gonna make it inside to pee... like you're gonna wet yourself, but then at the last second you ain't gotta take no leak no more?...... Well, that's magic.... Little stuff...Mortal stuff, but still magic. Some people, like witches, or political power brokers get good at it. But mostly it sticks to unusual folk, like vampires, or butterfly-vixens, or them fishy-tailed people, or elves and all. Some other types too. But I don't wanna get into them.
It gonna get light soon. Did I ever tell you how vampires hate these short, summer nights? No, wait a minute. I think I did. She gotta find him where to sleep. Conrad, I mean. Annie wanna be on her own now. She wanna be her own boss. Papa know. He indulgin' her.
Bet she gonna take him to The Penn Museum. Bet they gonna fly over to Thirty Third Street. She best friends wit' them old, waxy, dried up mummies. Some got ghosts livin' in they bellies. They whisper. They giggle. Annie like that. She don't get them Coptic words, but vampire don't gotta. You see, truth is something else.....
It rained again tonight. Streets is real wet and shiny. folks is all up inside they whoop-dee-doo co-ops and condominiums. They sleepin'..... mostly. They snorin'. They fartin'. They droolin' all over them forty eight dollar, fancy, sea isle cotton pillow slips. Few just died a strokes, or some other kind a shit. Some is watchin' info-mercials. Some be playin' nasty. Don't nobody even guess that down on the street a stringy haired, little white girl and a skinny guy all dressed in black be two 'juvenated, walking corpses. don't nobody even care.
Couple doormen see 'em go by. But doormen see a lot a things...
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please hit the SHARE BUTTON. tell your friends. the larger the group, the stronger the magic. it flows. it flows. it flows... COMMENTS is magic too, so conjure up all you like. thank you for these precious heartbeats of your time...
Conrad says he's starting to hear voices. Annie tells him it's just the others. They can probably pick him up now and want to feel him out. Everything is so different in Philadelphia now. For a long time there was just Tomas, or Jonathon, or whatever you want to call him and Baylah. That lasted for like two hundred and forty years. Bob came along in the nineteen twenties, but he's dead. Luna stays with Doctor Franklin, so she don't count and Blackie and Minnie mostly keep to themselves.
Vampires are by nature very non-confrontational. They're quiet. They hide. They fit in. It's only in fiction, like on TV and all, that they have them nostril flaring battles and cat fights. You saw how Annie handled things? You saw what she did to Conrad. She converted him. Gave him a taste (not of the blood...of the magic). Got him hooked and reeled him in. That's what usually happens. Van Helsing my eye. All Dracula gotta do is dip him in some magic, some REAL MAGIC, I mean, and that dude not gonna be so eager to mutilate corpses. Well, 'almost' corpses, I mean. You know... vampires.
Please know I'm talking 'bout 'our kind' a life-eater. Them 'noxious' bastids is something else. And excuse me for leaving out the elves and cherubs. But I don't like to speak for them. Remember what we told you last night... about magic and all? Well, I'm gonna tell you some more.
Magic is energy...sentient energy. It's got a mind. It can think. It can feel things. I don't know who started it. I don't know where it came from. Don't go asking me that. But it's there and it's real.
Powerful vampires are the ones who can talk to it. They purr. They ask it things. That's how Papa gets it to string people up over the roiling surface of the sun. Annie too. She gets it from him. He is her 'daddy' after all.
You may be able to do a little bit of this. Let me give you an example. Ever walk by a street light that goes dark? Ever have a furry, little, golden honey bee hover right in front a your face, just like it trying to tell you something? Ever scared like you ain't gonna make it inside to pee... like you're gonna wet yourself, but then at the last second you ain't gotta take no leak no more?...... Well, that's magic.... Little stuff...Mortal stuff, but still magic. Some people, like witches, or political power brokers get good at it. But mostly it sticks to unusual folk, like vampires, or butterfly-vixens, or them fishy-tailed people, or elves and all. Some other types too. But I don't wanna get into them.
It gonna get light soon. Did I ever tell you how vampires hate these short, summer nights? No, wait a minute. I think I did. She gotta find him where to sleep. Conrad, I mean. Annie wanna be on her own now. She wanna be her own boss. Papa know. He indulgin' her.
Bet she gonna take him to The Penn Museum. Bet they gonna fly over to Thirty Third Street. She best friends wit' them old, waxy, dried up mummies. Some got ghosts livin' in they bellies. They whisper. They giggle. Annie like that. She don't get them Coptic words, but vampire don't gotta. You see, truth is something else.....
It rained again tonight. Streets is real wet and shiny. folks is all up inside they whoop-dee-doo co-ops and condominiums. They sleepin'..... mostly. They snorin'. They fartin'. They droolin' all over them forty eight dollar, fancy, sea isle cotton pillow slips. Few just died a strokes, or some other kind a shit. Some is watchin' info-mercials. Some be playin' nasty. Don't nobody even guess that down on the street a stringy haired, little white girl and a skinny guy all dressed in black be two 'juvenated, walking corpses. don't nobody even care.
Couple doormen see 'em go by. But doormen see a lot a things...
====================================
please hit the SHARE BUTTON. tell your friends. the larger the group, the stronger the magic. it flows. it flows. it flows... COMMENTS is magic too, so conjure up all you like. thank you for these precious heartbeats of your time...
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