Snippet #2371420

located in Shreveport, Louisiana, a part of Finding Our Way Down Memory Lane, one of the many universes on RPG.

Shreveport, Louisiana



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Character Portrait: Eric Northman Character Portrait: Melody
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A soft, feminine whine came from within Eric's coffin as the raven-haired woman lying in his arms turned over so that the front of her body faced his. For the first couple of days, she would have nightmares. But from her intake of his blood, those nightmares would soon become fantastic dreams in which her Protector would slay those that wished her harm. And then they would have sex. Sometimes thinking of sex made her frightened, though she didn't know why. It was Eric she was talking about; She couldn't imagine ever feeling unsafe or frightened in Eric's presence. She let her fingers splay across his muscular chest, feeling much more at ease as she felt the chill of his flesh.

She tried to resume her sleep and go back to her lovely dream of running through wild flowers under the sun with Eric. Little did she know, it was entirely possible. Of course, he wouldn't be as sober as he was normally. But it was perfectly possible to frolic in the sunlight with him. The poor dear had no idea who she was, much less what she was. Eric seemed to know her from ages ago. But how could a human live so long? Eric said she even recognized him for a moment before she hit the shelf. And as much as Pam didn't like her, she did try to sink her fangs into her often. Even if Eric would throw her across the room for trying. As far as Melody knew, she was just a human who was catnip for Vampires. At least, according to Pam she was.

Sleep was now distant to her as she lay with eyes wide open. Sometimes it frightened her to wake and hear only her breathing and only her beating heart. That's why she had to reach out for him โ€“ To make sure he was still there. Silently, she pushed up on the coffin lid and swung her legs over the side to slide out. She stood on the tips of her toes and leaned her upper body back in, her plush lips planting themselves on his forehead for a few brief moments before she closed the lid of his resting place and made her way upstairs. Pam was there, pacing as usual. The only other person there besides the two Vampires and Melody was their jumpy barmaid. Ginger.

Melody didn't really like being around her. She screamed a lot. She freaked out about generally everything supernatural. And wounds. Plus she ate horrid sandwiches! Her chef skills were an abomination, a crime to digestive systems everywhere. Though, for Eric's sake and to save her own self from Pam's bitching, she would smile and be kind to Ginger. Ginger was pacing around the room with Pam, trying to think of something that she could do that might prove useful. What about the girl Eric's fucking now? Pam said she seemed fine until she got back. And before Eric left and lost all his memories, he said that she was thrown into the bar. She hit her head. Maybe if we hit her in the head again, we can get her memory back.

Was she seriously thinking of hitting her?

Judging by the amount of scars Melody bore, she thought that she had enough abuse that she didn't want Ginger swinging an iron skillet at her head. Pam glanced up as Melody took a seat on the bar, narrowing her eyes at her. Pam didn't like her because she had never heard Eric speak of her and now as she waltzes in, they act like lovestruck teenagers that have known each other for all of their lives that they can't even remember. The girl was shrouded in mystery and Pam wanted to know everything.

What was she? The days before Eric had lost his memory, when Melody had first arrived, Eric was speaking to her and trying to ask her to remember him. Pam had been with him for just over one hundred years and she had never seen her. Again, he had never spoken of her either. And if she was older than even Pam and wasn't a Vampire, then just what the hell was she? She could already imagine that the scars came from Louis. But why didn't glamouring work on her? And why were Vampires so attracted to her? And why did she seem to think that reading minds was not much of a big deal?

โ€œWhat are you?โ€ Her bored voice broke through Melody's thoughts โ€“ Or Ginger's, rather.

โ€œI...don't know. I could have found the Holy Grail.โ€, she offered. She knew Pam was still as dumbfounded as she was when it came to the question of how old she was and just what she was. Her voice was melodious and innocent as she swung her legs back and forth like a child. Her violet orbs were trained on the imposing retired Madame that was glaring her down. She honestly might as well had been licking her lips because her eyes were screaming for a bite. But, thankfully Eric woke up before Pam got the chance to pounce.

Melody slid down from the bar as Pam moved towards her, stopping at her side. She smiled widely as Eric commented on her sneaking off and wrapped her arms around his waist as he came to a halt on her other side. She had only left him moments ago, but she still felt the need to inhale deeply. She loved the way he smelled โ€“ Not the cologne, but him. As he mentioned reopening Fangtasia, Melody squirmed from his hold and scrambled back onto the counter of the bar. She reached out and pulled him to her, now a bit more on his level. โ€œNew Eric. Old Eric. As long as you're still Eric.โ€, she piped up cheerily.

He really was a giant to her, being a whole foot and then some taller than her. She felt like a porcelain doll when he held her sometimes. Her gaze fell to Pam as her small hands rested on Eric's bare waist, trying her best not to stare and drool over his shirtless torso. She did not believe that she had ever met a man more attractive than he. Pam, however, seemed unfazed by his shirtless appearance as she rolled her eyes. Both at his suggestion and Melody's previous remarks. The two had exchanged no I love you's, they weren't fucking, and they wouldn't even kiss for God's sake! Ugh. Courting was so fucking sappy that she would vomit every time she saw them if she could.

โ€œGreat. And who exactly will be kicking off every Vampire that smells her and decides they want a bite? Her scent is so thick you can smell it from a whole mile away.โ€ Pam's deadpan voice broke the small silence, her gaze making Melody uncomfortable. The frazzled Fae turned her gaze up to Eric now.

โ€œBut...They can't bite me, right? I'm his....Its against Vampire Law, isn't it?โ€ Her eyes glazed over as she felt tears well up at the thought of Eric being unable to keep others from biting her. Pam only gave a snort. โ€œYou've seen the fucks we have coming in here. You think they care about Vampire Law? They feed on humans in fucking dirty bathroom stalls and behind dumpsters. They won't give two shits about the whole Law of Claiming.โ€ Melody knew that they had all sorts of riffraff, but people to directly disobey Vampire Laws? Her bottom lip trembled as she buried her face against Eric's chest.

Pam rolled her eyes. โ€œHere's a better idea. I will open Fangtasia to get the money flowing. You take your pretty little princess out shopping for new clothes. Latex doesn't quite fit her. She needs outfits that will go naturally with the innocent air about her. Short cotton dresses. School girl clothes. What am I telling you for, though? Get her clothes that make you hard to think about seeing her in. She can't keep wearing t-shirts even though I'm sure we all appreciate the way they give nice little glimpses of her ass.โ€ Pam watched his face closely, hoping, praying even that she would catch a smirk or that he would undress the girl with his eyes. Something, anything the old Eric would do!

Melody's head lifted and her eyes lit up at the thought of shopping for new clothes. She smiled up bashfully at Eric, her lips parting as she prepared to ask him politely if he would take her. But then she heard Pam continue on. Her ivory cheeks flooded with red as blood rushed to her face. She looked down at the red Fangtasia t-shirt that she was wearing, knowing Pam's words rang true. Or at least most of them. She wiggled a little and pulled her shirt down some more past her knees, becoming increasingly self-conscious.