He tries not to shudder, a hand is over his mouth - don't breathe.
What the hell had he just seen? The question of it races around in his head. His heart thuds in his chest though, when he realizes the shape in the alley's coming towards him.
Blink. Blink hard. That'll make it not happen.
Nope.
Ren winces as they guy rounds the corner - what's meant to be a night-time excursion to try and grab some photo-stock for a side-project has turned into him becoming witness to an assault or something. He feels both stupid and afraid when the guy turns directly towards him though, and it's everything he can do not to yelp through his rebreather.
"Uh... Nope...?"
His hands shoot up in defense, palms forward. "No problem. Just us chickens, haha."
"Chickens?" Winter stops walking past Ren, turns to face the other when they're close enough for him to reach out and grab the other. His arms stay at his sides, however. He just looks at him. Winter hasn't been a vampire all that long, but in the time he's lived in Port Leiry, he's learned a few things.
So he leans in a little closer, forcing Ren to meet his eyes. And he smiles, though the smile isn't his typical friendly thing, it's colder. A little more sinister.
"You are not to tell anyone about what you just saw," he said slowly, his words clear and concise. He hadn't used his compulsion with many people, but this seemed as good a time as any to practice. Winter didn't need anyone coming after him for this.
As he opened his mouth to say more, he stopped, hesitating for the second time that night. "What is that?" He asks, gesturing towards the rebreather.
From afar, it might look like two lovers having a moment in an alley. They still smelled of sweat and liquor from the club they'd met in, bodies finding each other's in the throng of movement. Dancing, writhing, and then a few words were exchanged before they were outside. It was cold, but Winter had never minded the cold, and he didn't really care about how the other felt about it.
"Just a little taste," he reassured the other breathlessly, detaching from his neck to whisper in their ear. Winter smiled, fangs bared, and dove back in, not needing to take a breath even if his partner probably could have.
When he'd finished, the other was no longer conscious, held up only by Winter's hand firm on their shoulder. He wiped his mouth with the back of his other hand, leaned down a bit to take a look at the human, and then let go of them. They slumped to the ground, and for a moment it seemed like Winter would just walk away.
At the last second, he hesitated, and then he leaned down to fix the other. It was quick, no more than a second or two, and the human's back was against the wall, head lolled to the side but definitely looking more comfortable than before. They were breathing, Winter knew, and they were bundled up well enough as long as they were found soon. He made sure they weren't in the dark, light enough on them to alert some passerby.
But then he was walking away, leaving the alley, finally noticing the individual who had likely seen a lot of what had just happened. With his hunger satiated, he was calm, confident in a way he usually reserved for at work. Winter smirked at the other, raising a brow. "Problem?"
Flynn noticed the other's smile fall and immediately felt as if it was his fault. Had he said something wrong? Was he... was he supposed to tell his friend that he looked... hot? Flynn had never really understood that choice of word when describing someone. Unless they were actually sweating, how could they be hot, truly?
"You do look good. The clothes... I mean, the clothes aren't want gives you the talent you have. Obviously. You could be wearing anything up on that stage and look--" Flynn pressed his lips together for a moment. "Attractive." Flynn's cheeks warmed at the admission and he turned his face away from his friend in an effort to hide it.
"It has green tea in the name but there's no green tea in it?" That caused Flynn to smirk and shake his head. "Make that make sense, Winter." Even though it was something small, Flynn could feel himself relaxing ever so slightly. "No, no. I came here to see you at work, working. Just because I'm not used to this... atmosphere doesn't mean I want to leave."
As guilty as Winter felt for inviting Flynn somewhere that the other could feel uncomfortable, he couldn't help but smile proudly when he was told he was attractive. "Wearing anything, or wearing nothing, right?" He joked, nudging his friend with his elbow. He saw the blush, but said nothing about it, instead feeling a teensy little bit more pride in knowing he'd caused that. Winter had always liked having that effect on people, it was one of the things he liked most about his job here.
Winter merely shrugged, still smiling at Flynn. "I do not know where it came from, I just know that it's good!" He argued, shaking his head. "And here, I am Ice, not Winter. It is good to keep the two people separate, I think." It kept him safe from any creeps...or kept the creeps safe from him, maybe. Should anyone stupidly choose to follow him after work, he was likely to be able to protect himself very well.
"I just wanted you to see me dance, and you have now! Though, I am a much better dancer than this, too. It is not always so sexy, sometimes it tells a story. That is hard to do here," he explained, laughing.
Flynn didn't protest when his friend grabbed his hand, pulled him from the chair and led him to the bar. He kept his gaze away from the other and his clothes, eyes focusing on the people working behind the counter, making drinks.
"It's... something." The club, he meant. Not exactly his cup of tea but Flynn didn't need to say that, outright. He was sure Winter understood that without him voicing it. "You-- ah..." Flynn cleared his throat, his eyes sweeping extremely quickly over Winter's clothes and then he offered him a tight smile. "It fits you well, yes." Because what else was Flynn supposed to say? Hot felt... rude to him. Winter was attractive but that didn't mean that he had to say that, either. They were just friends.
Did friends tell each other they were hot?
"A green tea cocktail?" Flynn asked. "Is there actually green tea in it or does it just look like tea?" He'd had green tea many times -- even preferred it over coffee some days. But mixing it with alcohol had never crossed his mind. "Hopefully it doesn't ruin regular green tea for me."
The pride Winter had felt at the possibility that he was flustering his friend disappeared when he saw the tight smile. Immediately, his smile fell, and he dropped his arms to his sides. It fits you well was not the same as being hot, and Winter knew it. He'd been making a joke, though he'd also sort of been hoping for validation, as he often did. Winter never wanted to say it aloud, but he loved that validation. Now he was concerned that his friend was genuinely uncomfortable, and he felt ashamed for even asking about his appearance.
He also was feeling guilty for making his friend come to the club at all, if it was something that would make Flynn feel discomfort like this.
Trying to decide what to do next, if he should get Flynn out of there or if he should try and make the other more comfortable somehow, Winter hesitated at the bar for a moment before responding. "Oh, um, no, I don't think it's actually got any green tea in it. Or maybe it can? But I don't think most bars make it that way. It's good, though! And it sort of tastes like a fruity green tea," he explained.
Then he turned fully to face the other, looking concerned. "Do you want to leave? We can go, if you want. I'll just say I need to leave early tonight, I don't ever do that so I don't think it will be a problem."
Some of the Satin Cabaret crowd hang around after hours. One of the first groups of people Birdie'd actually come to trust after her bout with inhumanity (it had been, after all, the Dancers of the club who had helped them get the drop on Skinner), she felt, especially now, that it was her duty to treat them.
Winter Yi is one of those dancers; a member of the Cabaret she's had fleetingly little time to speak with. So tonight, as she forwards round after round to the clientele - some of whom are unassuming humans, others of whom are witches, or wolves, or vampires - it's Winter Yi she finds herself pulling up to the bar.
"Sorry about that asshole earlier," she says. The offending loudmouth asshole had been yoinked from the space and thrown out into the snow before he could get handsy - a generous fate, really. "Nobody ought to be acting like that in here."
Winter rarely let patrons of the club get to him. It came with the territory, he knew that much after a few years. A lot of the people who came in had already decided in their heads that the dancers were somehow not people anymore, just objects to ogle and grope if they wanted to. Most of the individuals who came in were polite enough, but there would always be a few bad eggs.
So it took a lot to rattle Winter, now. But there had been one guy tonight who had said a few too many things that made Winter blush, and not in a fun way. It had been quiet, at first, but when he'd seen the vampire reacting it had gotten worse. At a certain point, Winter knew when the man reached out a hand to him he was likely to rip the entire limb off with his teeth. And the man was definitely building to that.
It was probably better that Birdie got rid of him, though. Ripping the limb off would be a whole mess, and Winter didn't want to have to clean any of that up. And he liked dancing here, he wasn't sure if that was a fireable offense, but it definitely seemed like it could be.
As Birdie approached, Winter was counting their tips, but they stopped to smile at the other. "It's fine, really. It could have been worse," he said, though if he were to be honest with the other, he was still a little shaken. But he was only very rarely honest with anyone about things like that. "Thank you for getting him out of here. I wasn't going to be polite for much longer."
Seeing Winter in this atmosphere -- with an attire he'd never seen on him before, caused Flynn to shift in his chair. It was... different. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but one that he definitely wasn't used to. Flynn knew what it was like to put on a facade; to act confident when he actually wasn't. But what if this was the real Winter? What if he didn't know his friend at all?
His stomach dipped as he watched the other walk towards him, eyes shifting away from his friend as to not look at him in a disrespectful way. Then, Winter's arms were around him and Flynn didn't even respond back with a hug. He just sat there, unsure of what to do.
"Um..." He'd already turned down a drink from a woman. But this was his friend asking him. If Flynn said no, what would that do to their friendship? "Yeah. Sure." Flynn nodded, plastering on a smile as he forced his eyes to lift to meet the other's. "Do you have any recommendations?"
He hadn't missed the way Flynn looked down, as if to not see Winter. And a part of him thought to be offended, though another, larger part of him wondered if maybe he was catching the other by surprise in a good way. Most of the patrons here came looking for scantily clad dancers; nobody batted an eye at the small articles of clothing adorning his body. If anything, a lot of them probably thought of him in even less. So he couldn't help but wonder, what did Flynn really think?
Still smiling, more than anything happy that his friend had wanted to come and see him, he took Flynn by the hand and led him to the bar. The lights were a bit dimmer over here, less people paid attention to him. And Winter doubted anyone cared if he took a little time to chat up a patron at the bar.
"So, what do you think?" He asked, spreading his arms to show off the club, and then taking a step back and doing a spin. "I look hot, right?" He added, laughing. When the bartender approached, he stepped back up to the bar, ready to order. "Can we get a green tea cocktail?" He asked, and the bartender nodded before going to fix it up. Winter looked at Flynn and shrugged, "Those used to be my favorite, you'll have to tell me what you think!"
Flynn had never been inside a strip club before. He'd never even thought to step foot through the doors of one, either. And yet, there he was, sitting in a plush, velvet chair, in front of several dancers. One, in particular, being his friend Winter. He had been the one to invite Flynn to the club tonight. It had been an invite of excitement -- one that Flynn couldn't turn down in fear that he'd crush his friend's heart.
His fingers clenched into fists inside of his pockets as he sat there, stiffly. He was careful not to keep his eyes on anyone for too long -- only focusing on their faces instead of anything else. Not below the neck, not what they were wearing, not the way their hands occasionally trailed over their own bodies. Nope. He wasn't there for that. He was there to support his friend.
A girl with a tray containing beverages on them moved through the tables and chairs, holding it out towards Flynn. "No thank you." He responded, quickly. The last thing he needed was to ingest alcohol and cloud his judgement.
Then, his attention turned to his friend, who was walking towards him. "Hey." Flynn greeted Winter with a smile. "I came."
Having been dancing at the club for a few years now, Winter had gotten good at behaving a specific way. The individual people saw on the stage and walking around at Satin Cabaret was not the same Winter one would see almost anywhere else. This one was sleek, and suave, with fluttering eyelids and parted lips that never smiled, only smirked. He was cheeky, he could tease, and flirting came naturally. Unlike Winter, who blushed and laughed and looked down when it came to talking to strangers. But this wasn't Winter, not at work.
This was Ice.
His costume was blue tonight, looking every bit as cold as his stage name. With eyes on him, he let his hips move with the music, let his hands wander his own body. He touched a few shoulders, a few chests, whoever made eyes at him got his attention for a moment or two. Enough to get his tips, and to take note of what sort of patrons were there tonight. Anyone who wouldn't be missed...?
Winter caught a glimpse of a familiar person from the corner of his eye as he danced, and before he could stop himself he smiled for real, just for the briefest of milliseconds. Then his straight face was back, finishing up the song and collecting his cash before hopping off the stage and making his way cheerfully over to Flynn. Technically he was still working the floor, but he found himself too excited to keep up the act for the time being.
"You did come!" Winter replied, hugging his friend briefly and breaking away before anyone could see the act. "Would you like a drink?" He asked, not having seen the other refuse a drink prior.
Name: Winter Yi
Occupation: dancer
Age: 30 years old
Sexuality: demisexual
Species: vampire
Clan/Pack/Coven?: kanemaru
Hometown: fayetteville, west virginia
Relationship Status: single
Personality Traits: distracted, naive, optimistic, loyal
Biography -
triggers - illness, death, abandonment
Winter didn’t know much about his conception for a long, long time. His mother never said much about his father, and Winter never knew enough to really ask about him anyway. Winter was born thirty years ago, on a sunny day in June, to a mother who believed everything happened for a reason. She had only finished one year of secondary education, studying art, but once Winter was born she packed up the few precious belongings she had and hit the road. She had also been raised by a single mother, and she felt confident that she’d be able to raise a child on her own.
The two left South Korea, a struggling artist and her infant, and spent a couple of years traveling around Europe. When Winter was four, his mother fell in love with a wealthy French man and they moved to Italy as a small family of three. Things were good for a couple of years. They traveled from place to place, only ever returning to his home in Tuscany for a few months at a time, and Winter thought that’s what life was. They were happy. His mother did her art and Winter learned how to read and write in French, Korean, and Italian, though they spoke primarily Italian in the home.
Winter was intelligent from the start. He picked things up quickly, and he was always curious about the world around him. As soon as he was able to talk and comprehend what others were saying to him, he was asking ‘why’. As a young child, the thing he loved most in the world was dancing. At first it was just fascinating, the way people told stories with their bodies. He was put into dance lessons early, and immediately found it was something he could be successful in. Then it was a way to express himself, to present his experiences the way he experienced them. He remembered his first solo performance, his mother and her lover in the audience, the man’s parents there as well. They were always kind to Winter, treating him as if he were their very own flesh-and-blood grandchild. And at the time, Winter was happy.
He began dancing competitively, consistently winning first place in his age category. It was all lyrical and ballet, and as he got older he really fell the most in love with contemporary. Winter was happiest when he was dancing. It didn't matter how many languages he spoke, dance was the language the he knew he was the most fluent in.
They left Tuscany not long after that. Mother and seven-year-old Winter, hand in hand, hopped into the back of a cab with only a couple of suitcases in tow. Winter remembers watching the house disappear from the back of the cab, and he remembers being infinitely confused as to why they couldn’t stay. His mother never said a word about that, either. It was one of the many mysteries Winter grew up with.
They moved to the US when Winter was nine, and stayed there for a while. Never in any one place, his mother traveled frequently and took her son with her. Winter loved it, and he never really wanted any other kind of life. He liked seeing different places and meeting different kinds of people, and his mother seemed so happy during their travels. Her art was incredible, and she was able to sell it wherever they went, mainly to tourists but occasionally to businesses and the occasional wealthy art aficionado. Winter went to school a bit, but his attendance was always iffy at best. He danced everywhere they went, though. His mother always managed to find him a teacher. Several times he was trained by world renowned dancers and coaches for short periods of time, and he thrived in the professional environments. Winter never felt like he had any control over what was going on, but dance was a way of wrapping his head around his world.
Eventually the pair made their way to the West Virginia. They continued to travel, though staying near mysterious “family” Winter had never known about until they met. He was pretty sure the man and woman weren’t really his uncle and aunt, but they were kind, so he didn’t care too much. Winter was able to go to school for real, and caught up quickly with his peers. Then he surpassed them, and eventually just got his GED at sixteen so he could spend more time in the studio, practicing his craft.
Winter's grandmother moved in with them when he was fifteen. He’d never even heard of his grandmother, but they met and he fell in love with the woman immediately. The two just clicked, and for the first time in his life Winter questioned his mother when she said they had to leave again. Why couldn’t they stay there? Winter could keep dancing, had even heard from a few ballet companies that he knew he could get into. He knew his grandmother was in no health to be traveling and he didn’t want to leave her.
His mother didn’t answer any of his questions. She’d never really been great at answering the bigger questions that Winter asked. Two days later, she was gone, and Winter was left with more questions than ever. His grandmother couldn’t answer many of them, but reassured him that she’d also always wanted those answers. Winter moved into his mother’s room (he’d previously been sleeping on a pull out couch), left with the job of cleaning it out. He didn’t find answers to most of the questions he had for his mother there, either.
The first few months he got six postcards from his mother, all from different countries. By his sixteenth birthday, Winter was receiving maybe one postcard every couple of months. His mother was no longer in Europe, and Winter was no longer holding his breath until the woman came back. Perhaps it was the abandonment, but for a while Winter sort of went numb to everything around him. When his grandmother had her stroke when he was seventeen, he seemed unaffected. Just went from spending all day every day in the studio and competing to caring for his sickly grandmother, dancing only when he had the time.
When she passed eight years later, and he was alone, something snapped. He ran into the night, something he'd been warned against for a long, long time. Living in a small town in West Virginia, he'd heard stories, knew the legends and the lore. Scary things came out at night, and people stayed locked in their homes, ignoring all sounds and whatever they thought they might have seen out a window. But the flatlining sound in the middle of the night saw Winter leaving the hospital even before the doctors and nurses could flood into his grandmother's room. When something attacked him, he knew he screamed. But people knew not to listen to the sounds they heard in the night, coming from the darkness of the forest. So he was ignored.
Upon awakening, all he knew was hunger. It was like that for a long time. Hiding during the day, hunting at night. Dirty clothes and hair from the holes he dug or the caves he found. Dirt under his long fingernails, eyes flashing angrily at anyone who stumbled across his path in the night. He fed mostly on animals, never brave enough to get too close to the town again, or the bigger cities. Nobody was there to teach him control, to teach him what to do and what to not do. For the better part of a year, Winter struggled on his own, not really knowing what he was but knowing it wasn't human anymore.
Eventually another vampire found him and took him under their wing. They washed him, and then they taught him how to survive this new life he'd been gifted. They found a place to stay in Port Leiry, Winter got a job dancing at Satin Cabaret. He stayed with this guide for a couple of years in Port Leiry before venturing off on his own. Still, he keeps his friends close, clinging to them with the fear of abandonment he's never managed to shake from his childhood.
Wanted Plots -
the vampire that turned him - could've been accidental or deliberate, either way they attacked him and turned him and then they disappeared. he has no recollection of seeing them, though he has felt some sort of weird pull since arriving in port leiry.
the vampire that took him in - a kind soul who found a lost vampire and taught him how to live again.
close/best friends - winter has a tendency to make friends with literally anyone and everything. they're just friendly, possibly overly-so. and they trust people to be their friends pretty easily, it doesn't take much more than a smile and a kind word. to be a best friend, they just have to show up when winter asks them to.
unlikely friends - just a friend or two who are pretty opposite from winter, and yet they weirdly get along. maybe some gloomy counterparts, a friend who keeps winter grounded when his head is up too high in the clouds. or someone who sees winter getting manipulated by someone (it's easy to do), and is like "hey, no, maybe stop that?"
one night stand - they've been known to fool around with strangers here and there. winter tries not to bring too many random people home, but after living in town for 4 years there's likely been several who winter could run into again!
