The Red Huntsman

Vanessa had only been in Washington DC for about a week and already she had found a suitable pub to spend her evenings. She sat at one of the tables alongside a window with a book before her and a beer in her hand. She had just settled down after a long day of job hunting and had taken a pair of high heels off her sore feet and placed them on the floor beside her chair. Her legs, which were covered by a pair of black slacks, were crossed underneath her in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. She had unbuttoned her blue silk blouse halfway down, revealing the black tank underneath. Her suit jacket she had removed and had placed on the back of the chair along with her purse. She had attempted to remove the dark red lipstick from her lips, but hints of its color still remained. Her eyelashes covered in mascara she had left alone, knowing it would be best to remove it at home with the proper liquids. Her hair she had run a hand through so many times that by the end of the day it had lost its shine and many of the tight curls had loosened. Her appearance was a weak shadow of what she had looked like before, but she didn't care. None of her potential employers were sitting in this room and she had no need to impress anyone at the moment.

She had considered going on a search for the Immortal that was shown on TV only a week ago, but she knew it would have been a lost cause. He was probably holed up somewhere in hiding, if he was smart at least. She had decided that it would be best to grab a book from the local bookstore and sit down at her new favorite pub and read. More importantly she knew she needed a beer and to relax. Occasionally she would look up from her book to glance outside the window and watch as people walked down the lit sidewalk. She thought that maybe if she looked enough she might be lucky enough to spot him, though it was a very slim chance. She ended up giving up and for the most part kept to her book. She would look up every once in a while when someone new entered the pub, but they would only hold her attention for so long before she was back in her book.

Two hundred dollars. That’s how much the old lady at the airport had given him. And a smile was all it took. The TSA agent told him of The Red Huntsman when Daavid enquired about where he could find the best wine in town. He gave Daavid a hundred dollars. Poor chap. I hope he has money left over to survive the day.
He was standing in front of The Red Huntsman wearing what he always wore, a Brown suit and black Jeans. It was a small pub surrounded by what looked like apartments. It had been a few days since he had heard of the ‘Immortal’. At first he wasn’t interested. It was Foxx News after all, no one trusted them. The story spread, but what made him leave his experiments, Mr. and Mrs. Yagami, was a realization. He had left Edu when too many people greeted him with, “You look same as ever.”
He couldn’t just stop experimenting, no matter what. He needed one immediately. As he entered the pub he saw two likely candidates. A young couple in the far corner and the woman reading a book seated in the window side table. The others were the usual culprits found in every bar. The Leader, the Dealer, the Rat, the Hunk, etc. He went to the bar counter and stood there waiting for the barman to come to him.
“Yes?” asked the barman. He looked at the lady in the blue and said, “Whiskey?”
“Beer,” said the barman. He filled a jug and gave Daavid a big glass. He smiled at the barman and reached into his pocket. “Don’t worry. It’s on the house,” interrupted the smiling barman. Ofcourse it is, thought Daavid and with the jug in one hand and the glass in the other, he reached the table where the lone woman was sitting. He looked at her. She was nothing special but she wasn’t bad either. He smiled, out of habit, eventhough she wasn’t looking and asked, “May I sit here?”

It had been getting time to move again. Now with the news of another immortal, Étaín knew she had to go. Even if it was just a load of bull she had to go and find out for herself. So within days of seeing the news, she’d packed up her home and had it all in storage except for a few boxes and some suitcases. They held her clothes, necessities and things for the animals. That was how she ended up in another crappy motel that allowed pets. She was working on finding a rental that was two bedrooms with a yard that allowed both dogs and cats. It was getting harder and harder she’d noticed as time went on.

After giving up on house hunting for the day, she started walking back towards the motel. She saw a pub and hoped that they had what she was looking for. Having to find a good liquor store was going to be hard on first glance. The drink she preferred wasn’t easy to come by and usually had to be imported. Going back to Ireland was getting more and more tempting every time she moved around. But eventually she would still have to leave.

Sighing, she stepped into the building and glanced around. It didn’t appear there were many people in which she was grateful for. She pulled at the bottom of her t-shirt before heading over to the bar. She didn’t sit down just in case. “Do you happen to have Butratty Meade?” It was an odd request she knew. But after every move it was something she enjoyed having. She’d run out since the last time and didn’t have any to move with her.

The bartender looked at her odd before going to look. Well, looking was better than a flat out no. Turning, she leaned her back against the bar and glanced around, looking at the people there and then at the foot traffic. She shook her head. She didn’t like the capital already. She could tell she would only be here a few years at best. But the money she knew that would probably come out of the event planning was a tempting venture to stay her normal time.

Turning back around, she was pleased to see the bartender happened to find one bottle of her meade. She was so grateful. She went ahead and paid for the whole bottle and then sat down taking the glass the barkeep gave her. "Thank you." Today was looking better already now if only she could find a place to live and this other so called immortal.

Vanessa looked up when she heard a voice and it took her brain a moment to process what he had asked. She glanced around the room for a moment to note all the empty tables and chairs before returning her gaze back to the man before her. He reminded her of Hitler's version of a "perfect race" and for a moment thought she could place him as one of Hitler's generals, but the thought lingered only for a moment. She had to remind herself that there would always be people that looked like those she had met in her past, but that was simply because she had met so many people. Still, she was wondering why he had decided to sit at her table rather than at another.

"Yes, you may," she said calmly, "Dislike sitting by yourself?"

The question was presented with no intent of offending the man, she simply wanted an explanation as to why he chose to sit with her instead of those around her. As she waited for his response, her eyes moved to the woman who had just entered the bar and she watched as the woman ordered a drink Vanessa had not seen in a very long time. Last time she saw it she happened to be out of the country, but she couldn't exactly place where. She almost wanted some herself, but in the long run decided her beer was just as appeasing to the taste buds. Her eyes turned back to the man before her, still curious as to his answer. She disliked appearing rude and decided it best to close her book and appear as though her full attention was on the man before her. He at least had a charming smile and seemed pleasant enough to garner her attention.

Daavid sat down and looked at the woman. Smiling he said, “This seat has the best view,” and pointed towards the park some distance away. Three streets joined up right in front of the pub forming an inverted ‘T’ if seen from inside the pub. The park was situated about two hundred meters on the street directly coming towards the entrance.

Daavid wasn’t lying. The view of the park from the other seats was blocked by trees, people, a lamp post, a post box, and a bus stand. Looking at parks and green landscapes reminded him of the time in Munich when spent four cold nights in a park to build up stamina. The plan had failed but it was certainly a nice experience.

Daavid noticed the woman looking at someone behind him. He poured some of the beer in his glass and pushed the jug in the direction of the woman who sat across him. “Please help yourself. I cannot drink this much,” he said.

Regardless of anything, she was now his new experiment. So he started thinking about his approach.

What kind of a male figure does she want right now? Father? I aint old enough to be a father figure. A brother? If she wants a brother she will ask me for help without giving too much detail. If she wants a lover, she’ll eagerly listen to me. If she wants a friend, she’ll tell me everything. If she wants a son… She’s too young.

Suddenly Daavid remembered something. She had asked a question. A fucking question! Eventhough he was smiling. His smile didn’t work well on her… What now? He needed more intel on her before he could proceed. Should he choose another target? No way. This would be a nice challenge.

“Please, don’t mind me,” he said when he saw she had closed her book. Just ignore me. He couldn’t waste time here anymore. He’d act like he is interested in whatever she might say and leave in an hour or two. He continued watching people sitting in the park.

Étaín sipped at her meade knowing full well if she wanted the actually meade since Bunratty was more of a white wine than actually meade that she had to go back over to Ireland. It wasn’t bad. It had aged nicely and she loved that about the meade. Turning in the barstool she watched one of the TVs as it aired the news. There was some hope that she would get some type of clue on where to go from where she was presently at.

Sighing she poured herself another glass as she watched the foot traffic. There wasn’t anything much better to do. Quickly she asked for a menu and looked it down before deciding on something small that wouldn’t clash with the meade, a little dessert piece was perfect. One of the good things about being an immortal, she worked out because she had nothing better to do and her figure hadn’t changed since she remembered even when she never worked out.

When her food came out, she half turned in the seat to eat and drink, but still watch everything. She didn’t like being in new places before she’d gotten the general idea of what the place was like. D.C. was no place to be caught alone which meant she would have to stop drinking soon. Most women now couldn’t hold their liquor or even drank more than one glass of wine. So she knew that taking anymore than a second would seem odd.

It was funny how one learned to adapt so easily. All the things one did to stay hidden. Truthfully, she was tired of hiding. She hated moving around and longed only to stay in one place. Ireland sounded great and still besides of her memory of the place she didn’t understand why. Unconsciously, she fingered the Celtic cross at her neck knowing just how old it was before going back to eating her dessert just happening to catch bits and pieces of the conversation at the front by the windows.

She followed his finger to see where he was pointing and was slightly surprised at the clear her table gave. So he wasn't lying, which eased her a small fraction but she was still left with uncertainty. She turned her gaze back towards him when he spoke again and saw what he was offering, a glass of beer. A small smile spread across her lips as she looked at the glass, for she had finished her's just moments before. The great thing about being immortal was that poisons didn't really kill you. Some caused pain, this was true, but she doubted that the man before her had poisoned her glass anyway. Her Guardian would have probably been bothering her by now if the man had indeed did anything to the drink. This thought made her realize that her Guardian had actually been rather quiet, almost too quiet. She didn't dwell on it long, he never left even when she wanted him to.

"A man who looks fit to be a soldier cannot finish a glass of beer?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, a slightly amused expression on her face, "No matter, I thank you for your offer and I find that I cannot decline."

She oftentimes forgot that it didn't appear natural or normal for an average sized woman to drink a couple beers and appear as though there were no hints of alcohol in them. Thankfully her forgetfulness had yet to land her into any trouble and she hoped that today would be no different as she took hold of the beer and downed nearly half without a thought. Now that she wasn't reading her book her only distraction from time, other than the man and potentially those around her, was the beer. Though the man almost seemed upset by her turning her attention away to the book and to him and for a moment she was confused. Perhaps he was simply being polite? It was the only explanation she could think of.

"Please, the least I can do is to entertain you in conversation in return for the beer. If it's any consolation I've read so many biographies about Joan d'Arc that I can live waiting to read the rest of this one."

She moved her hand to reveal the book she had been reading. It was indeed a biography of Joan d'Arc with a picture of a painting resembling Vanessa on the front. Vanessa read the different biographies mainly for humor, finding it rather hilarious the many things authors came up with to fill in the blank pieces in history. Sometimes they would get actual events completely wrong. All in all it provided Vanessa with a good laugh. As she raised her glass to take another sip of beer, her eyes wandered over to the girl sitting at the bar and noticed her fiddling with what appeared to be a Celtic cross. Vanessa wondered if the girl was actually Irish or just seemed to enjoy Irish things, like the cross and the meade.

Takeda arrived in this new city, Washington D.C., without doing any research. He happened to be walking and stumble upon a homely looking pub; The Red Huntsman. Takeda knew he had to find the immortal and help him out, they were two leaves of the same tree after all.

Takeda arrived in Washington D.C. shortly after finding a poor man being mugged by some thugs. He was on his way to Tokyo International Airport when he noticed the mugging. Takeda, being a man of justice, immediately assisted the poor man by taking down the thugs. It was a simple effort, not even drawing his sword. Shortly after being helped the man stood up and picked up his briefcase, 'Umm, hello.' The man shrugged, 'Thank you for saving me!' Takeda responded, 'It was my pleasure,' and started walking away from the man. 'Excuse me! Please hold on a moment!' The man ran after Takeda and got him to stop, 'Yes, what else do you need sir?' Takeda was interested to know what the man could possibly offer. 'You seem to be heading towards the airport, are you flying somewhere?' The man asked. 'Actually, yes, I'm trying to get to Washington D.C. in the America.' 'Oh really? I am too! Quick question, if you plan on flying, why don't you have any bags or anything?' Takeda was getting weary of the man, asking all the questions, but really why would Takeda need anything other than what he has on-hand. 'I just don't...' The man was again puzzled. 'Well, come with me, I'll make sure you get on the plane safely...' From here the man actually bought Takeda a ticket and ended up being the co-pilot of the plane going to Washington D.C.

So Takeda wound up in Washington D.C., searching for the immortal. "Alright, time to get some leads." Takeda entered the pub and took a seat at the bar. "Do you have any ginger plum Sake?" "Sake!?! This is the United States, not Japan my friend. I'm sorry but we don't carry Sake." Takeda was shocked to hear the bartender's response, "Ok, then do you have anything similar to Sake?" The bartender was rather puzzled since he wasn't too familiar with Sake. "If you mean a light beer, then yes." Takeda was now the man puzzled; what was light beer, and why don't they have Sake. "Sure I'll take it," His expression was rather dreary, since he looked forward to a nice cup of Sake to level his head.

Double Post, ftw. Deleted

When the man suggested that Joan d'Arc was a mary-sue and was portrayed incorrectly as a hero, Vanessa nearly stabbed him with the fork resting next to her hand. The thought of violence quickly disappeared and she gave him her best smile, masking any irritation she might have with him. She had nearly forgotten the hundred dollar bill he placed on the table until after he left. Turning her attention to it she looked at it confusingly for a moment. Why would he pay her bill after talking to her for just a moment and why would he pay with a hundred dollar bill? She shook her head and uncrossed her legs from the chair and slipped her feet into her heels before standing to head over to the bar with the bill.

"Here's to paying the bill, his drink and mine. I'd like a shot of whiskey as well if you wouldn't mind. Keep the change." As she waited she was reminded of his words against Joan d'Arc and for a moment forgot those that were around her. "Calling me a mary-sue and not a hero. Yes, because being burned at the stake was something I did for fun."

Her words came out as an angry mutter, silencing only when the shot of whiskey was placed beside her. Without hesitating, Vanessa took the glass and threw its contents down her throat without even a hint of disliking the taste. The bartender stared at her for a moment and offered her another one, yet she declined. It was then that she realized a new man had entered the room dressed in a rather unusual garb and had asked for Sake. She glanced towards the woman who had ordered an interesting Irish drink and then to the man who was seeking a Japanese drink. She stood in between them, puzzled for a moment before deciding that it wasn't unusual for DC to attract different people from different nationalities.

"John," she said to the bartender who was searching around for a light beer for the gentleman, "Don't you have Sapporo or Asahi beer?"

The two beer names she mentioned were Japanese and rather common in the states. It wasn't sake, but it was Japanese and she had a feeling the man wanted something Japanese. When the bartender, John, nodded and held up a Sapporo bottle of beer Vanessa turned towards the Japanese man and smiled.

"If you haven't had Sapporo you should definitely try it, it's much better than any American beer."

She turned her attention to the woman beside her and was about to ask her where she got her taste for mead when a news reporter appeared on the television screen hanging above the bar. Different pictures of the man considered the Immortal fluttered across the screen, instantly grabbing her attention. There was a picture of him outside the Red Huntsman and she quickly glanced outside, but he wasn't there and she realized that the pictures had been taken a while ago. The reporter continued talking about the man and gave a hot line to call in case anyone could see him.

"Poor man, everyone hunting him down just because he might not be able to die," she muttered.

It was always interesting being in a bar or pub. The types of people that came in were always different. But it seemed like this place attracted even odder people to the mix. Étaín kind of liked the idea of all the different types being in one place. It made her not stand out so much, at least she hoped it did. Not to mention she was glad she wasn't the only one with odd drink tastes. Didn't Japanese people know America wouldn't have their stuff unless they went to a specialty place. Like her with finding true Irish meade. It was nearly impossible. Plus, so much time had passed she wasn't sure if she remembered what real meade tasted like instead of the flavored white wine meant to be meade.

The words of the other woman floated to the red head's ears and she paused for just a second before continuing to eat. Burned at the stake for fun? Is that some type of metaphor? She sure hoped that it was. Anything is better than American beer, sweety. She thought to herself as she finished off her small meal and the rest of the meade in her glass. Glancing back at the woman she could see she was about to speak, but when the TV started on about the immortal again even she turned her attention to it.

What could she do? How did she have any chance at finding this other so called immortal. Étaín had known for years that she couldn't have been the only one in the world. And with the technology increases it wasn't surprising that one of them had been found. She just didn't want to be next. She knew she would have found a place and holed up for a few hundred years.

"Not being able to die is probably a sin." The comment was light hearted. She had always felt that she was cursed for something or done something she shouldn't have and was being punished for it, but what she did she didn't remember. "I would hide for a very long time if I were him. Though who knows," she shrugged. "Maybe he's tired of hiding now. It gets old after a while; no longer becomes fun." She used the same word as the other woman.

Fun.

It wasn't fun to be burned at the stake, whatever that meant. But it sure as hell wasn't fun hiding all the of time. Always running and looking over one's shoulder got very annoying after a few hundred years and that was all she really had memories of. She guessed everything else was blocked out or that she was born then. But that notion seemed off too. Sighing, she shrugged her shoulders.

"Time to head to the motel, I guess." A comment more to herself, but still just loud enough to be heard by those closest to her.

When the woman beside her had mentioned that it was a sin to not be able to die, Vanessa found herself agreeing with the woman. She had oftentimes felt the same way, wondering why she was granted an immortal life when no one else was. It gets old after a while; no longer becomes fun. The way the woman said those words made Vanessa look at her closely. She had spoken as if she knew how it felt to hide for a while, though Vanessa brushed it off. Maybe it meant nothing, maybe the woman was just trying to understand how the supposed Immortal on TV felt. When she mentioned she was leaving she followed suit with the Japanese man and decided to wish her a good night as well.

"Don't forget your bottle," she said with a smile as she motioned to the bottle of mead the girl had ordered, "Have a good night."

She glanced back towards the Japanese man and wondered if she should say something, but decided against it. She really didn't have much to talk about and the only thing that seemed to be of common interest was the Immortal being shown on the television screen. She sighed and decided to take up John's offer of another drink and ordered a guiness, craving something thick for the moment. She looked down at her drink when the man placed it in front of her and she found herself thinking out loud.

"What if there were multiple Immortals, but they didn't know each other? Forced to live a life eternally alone. They think they're alone until there's one shown on TV, but is he real or just another media scam?" she chuckled and shrugged, "I guess we'll never know."

The alcohol was loosening her tongue, but she was far from drunk. She felt its effects on her but she didn't much care as she took a long sip from her beer. Ah, that was the drink she was looking for. Guiness.

((OOC: It's unlike my character to be super talkative like this but I figured it might get things going a bit :P))

Two farewells. She’d only gotten farewells and thank you from the couples that she helped now. To hear it from two complete strangers in a bar no less was an odd thing. The Japanese man she could understand. She knew their society was build around politeness and manners. But the other woman it was odd coming from her. She shrugged to herself as she turned and grabbed her bottle grateful for the reminder. It wasn’t like she was going to forget it though. She didn’t have any of her meads in this city. She had yet to go and get her stuff since she had no place to stay.

Étaín had started out the door when the woman’s words caught her attention. She turned back to her one eyebrow arched. “I would then suppose those people wouldn’t want to be alone anymore.” She managed a weak smile and a small laugh. “I’d go looking for him. And then again if there was one why couldn’t there be others?” It was the very question she had asked herself before she’d picked up and moved.

“Anyway…” She rubbed the back of her head lightly nervously. “I’m new to the area and well… I could use some friends, someone to hang out with. At least until I get settled.” She posed the question to both of the people at the bar. The Japanese man was a gamble. He was either there on business or newly arrived like her. If it was the latter she was good if not, she lost out. But the other woman she was hoping for success with. “By the way, my name’s Étaín Fields.” She’d practiced the last name tons of times before she’d gotten there. Always changing the last but never the first name. It would be her down fall she knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“So… what do you say?” She was hoping for a yes. They both seemed to speak of the immortal on a higher level than what she had heard other people speak of and that had her wanting to be around them more. If only to glean information from them. Not to mention they seemed to understand the words she spoke about it too. But that also meant she had to be more careful, more guarded about what she said to them if they did say yes.

Vanessa listened to the girls words closely. And then again if there was one why couldn't there be others? those words the girl spoke were often something Vanessa wondered over her lifetime. She had eventually convinced herself that she was the only one until the media went crazy over the potential 'Immortal' man that was somewhere in DC. She had looked at the pictures herself and after many thorough examinations she began to doubt that any of the photographs were photoshopped, as many people believed. If he really was an Immortal then she wasn't alone and there could possibly be others in the world. She was pulled out of her thoughts when the girl asked to be friends and for a moment Vanessa looked confused, as if the word 'friend' wasn't in her vocabulary. She hadn't had a friend in ages, partly because she didn't want to deal with explaining why she was moving or why she didn't age. It was too much of a hassle. She was about to say no, but she hesitated. Something about this girl told her that it would be worthwhile to keep in touch. Plus, it would give her something to do other than mope around in her apartment to hear back from a potential employer.

"Sure, though I'd have to warn you that I'm new to the area myself. Haven't even unpacked yet. My name is Vanessa Knite, it's a pleasure to meet you Étaín."

Vanessa gave Étaîn a warm smile before feeling slightly awkward. Did the other woman want to leave and go elsewhere or would she stay to have a few more drinks? Vanessa reckoned that she shouldn't have any more herself, simply because she knew her lips would get loose and she didn't want to say anything that could potentially upset her new 'friend'

"I'll be honest. It's been a while since I've had a friend so I apologize in advance if I'm a bit...odd."