lover, goddess, bitch

Erzulie "Maria Love" | Deity of love & women Owner of Vamp

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Location: Erzulie’s apartment @mcgaera​ 

Night after night Vamp had been bursting at the seams. It necessitated all hands on deck, even Erzulie found a place behind the bar. Maybe it was worth investing in a drink mixing system, though half the fun of Vamp was the old charm of bartenders shaking concocting cocktails by hand.

When a quiet night finally did come, Erzulie seized upon it, retiring very early to her apartment and having a great deal of fun. Except now, while she was enjoying a pleasant lie-in after a great deal of activity, someone was buzzing at her door. Erzulie switched her doorbell feed on and grumbled. No way out of this one. Megaera was stood by her door with a serious expression. Erzulie scrolled through her notifications, but saw nothing that suggested something had happened in Vamp. Then again, if something serious were to happen, Megaera would be the sort to tell it to Erzulie face-to-face. “A moment,” Erzulie’s voice chimed over the intercom outside, as she rolled out of bed.

A few minutes later, three mortals stumbled out of Erzulie's front door. They were dressed in their best gladrags, though now they were a little crumpled, their makeup smeared, hair dishevelled. As they left, Erzulie stood behind them, wearing a comfortable, silk mum and blowing kisses at those who looked back to give Erzulie a final wave. And then she turned her attention to Megaera, trying not to look guilty for having skived off work for her own pleasure. "Is something the matter, darling?" Erzulie asked Megaera, unsure whether the fierce look she wore was her normal, resting face, or the result of something more untoward. "Do you want to come in?"

[erzulie-the-vamp]

hephaestxs​:

Erzulie’s apartment was not what he expected, and yet the chaos of it all aligned with her perfectly. It did however, edge Hephaestus towards unease. Every square inch of surface, regardless of its actual intended use, was being used for storage. Heph felt his fingers twitch at the sight of the pots in the kitchen sink – did Erzulie not have an automatic washer? Nevermind the costumes that littered her apartment. Begged the question what the rest of it was like. Heph let himself be herded towards the living room which Erzulie promptly did her best to tidy up. 

He turned to her, hiding a grimace as Erzulie dumped a pile of costumes on the remaining dining room chair that hadn’t been concealed. “Tea is fine.” He said, picking up one of the throws that had been cast onto the sofa on a whim. It was crumpled up, but it was an easy fix to hold it out and fold it up neater. The rest, well it wasn’t his issue, so inevitably Heph perched on the two seater.

Underneath the messy foray of costumes, her apartment was precisely what he would expect of her. Light, brilliant, dashes of colour, nothing matched but entirely in a way that worked. It could within an instant be transformed into a boudoir with the heavy curtains and decadent lighting. This Hephaestus noticed incidentally as a point of interest regarding her decor choice. Not for its intended purposes. Heph unbuttoned his shirt jacket and then folded it neatly over the arm. “I’m worried – - Erzulie.” It wasn’t often that Heph leant into their godly names each descension was an iteration of themselves, yes, – but they cast the mould to be who they wanted to be. In many ways they were bereft of their purest form, so why be beholden to it?

“I believe I mentioned last time that I was worried for Tsukuyomi…well this business with Peter has struck them hard. No doubt it plagues all of our minds. I’ve spoken with a number of people including Lucia, she agrees with me that we cannot stand apart in this matter. It’s gone past time that we unified as one. But I’m worried about them…” Hephaestus had loosened the constraints, and now it seemed only apt like an overbearing parent to tighten them again. 

Whatever it was that Heph wanted to discuss must be grim indeed. He was so tense as he stepped into her apartment, perching on the edge of her couch as if he wanted to fly away. A cup of tea would fix him. Erzulie grabbed two tall glasses and walked to the fridge, pushing a button that filled them both with pre-brewed sweet tea and ice. She placed both glasses down on the coffee table and sat daringly next to Hephaestus on the two seater. There was a certain thrill in being so close to Heph, their thighs rubbing together! Even if Zulie proclaimed she and Heph were just friends, and she had no desire for anything more...

Maybe it had been too long since she had taken a consort or two up here.

Erzulie smiled at the use of her godly name, again, maybe reading too much into it. She politely scooted back and listened to Heph as he aired his problems, of his ward and worry over Peter's demise. Erzulie listened attentively, placing a reassuring hand on Hephaestus' shoulder. "Yes, what happened with Pan... It has been hard on all of us," Erzluie sagely offered. "Is there any reason why Tsukuyomi is so affected by it?" Did they know Pan, or was it a result of their troubled Descension?

"I like the thought of unity," Erzulie said, though she wasn't sure what she thought of Lucia's involvement. Lucia was haughty and sanctimonious for Erzulie's tastes, caught up in being Little Goddess Perfect. "But what is the point of drawing together? What will our unity do? We don't even know why Pan was killed!" Erzulie bemoaned, her throat tightening as she lingered on what details she had learned of Pan's death. "It seems to senseless... Pan was..." Poison ivy personified. Invasive, resilient, vexing, irritating... Yet it seemed impossible that someone should hate him so much to truly crave his demise.

Erzulie blinked rapidly, feeling tears begin to gather at her lashline as she lingered on Pan’s death. "Oh...!" Erzulie grumbled, pressing her fingers under her eyes to wipe away the tears that escaped. "I am supposed to be consoling you!" she whined. It wasn’t fair! 

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

As Erzulie disparaged logistics (something Utu adored), Utu couldn’t help laughing. Not mocking, but more like an admiring audience member thrilled by the diva’s acting on stage.  He loved it.  He missed it.  Her beautiful scripted unpredictability.

“I forgot how many of these sage little bon mots and sayings you have on-file, Zulie,”  Utu nodded in amused thoughtfulness about Erzulie’s clever little dance analogies.  But she knew him well enough to know, Utu wouldn’t step on toes.  He wouldn’t stand to the side either; he’d miss a few dances to research, read-up, and practice the steps before he dared attempt to ask a partner to dance.  No haste.  Everything with time.  Day and night were constants, consistent; and so was Utu’ patience.

And…maybe that metaphor worked well in that respect.  

But for now he smiled warmly at Erzulie.  “I can imagine how charmed anyone would be if you made a few missteps in the dance.  Even Tez wouldn’t mind being tread on by those expensive Cabretetes, huh?”  Yes, Utu knew some designer brand names…kinda.  On Erzulie anyway; she’d taught him about all her expensive shoes and accessories, back in the day.  But more important than shoes:  “Are you doing okay?  Doing business with Tez.  Are you sure.”  Utu asked, knowing Erzulie might brush him off.  If she still thought she had something to prove to him. 

Erzulie was right about Pan.  It wasn’t that Utu had rose-tinted glasses and Erzulie brought a cynical perspective on the satyr.  It was more that Erzulie was willing to both love and be exasperated by all of Pan’s qualities, good and bad and inbetween.  Whereas Utu had preferred to ignore whatever Pan did or thought, that Utu had disapproved of.  Almost like two parents with Pan the unruly, wild, rebellious teenager.  Utu remained passive, Erzulie exploded, divorce happened.  And now the worst tragedy to ever befall two parents: outliving their beloved, aggravating, darling child.

Utu fell silent, all quiet sympathy for himself and for Erzulie, as she ranted.  Nothing she said about Pan was wrong.  Erzulie looked gorgeous, her tears like glittering diamonds.  Utu pat his shirt and trousers until he located a clean handkerchief, which he handed to Erzulie.  

“He laughed at all my ideas.  He opposed all of yours.  Why exactly did we work with him again?” Utu knew exactly why.  He sighed heavily, knowing by now his idea was in vain.

Or rather, Erzulie disparaged his idea, because her idea - for Utu to abandon Attaboy and work with her - was bigger, brighter.  Optimistic.  Made so much more sense.  She was as stubborn as Pan, who was as stubborn as Utu.  

“I…can’t abandon Attaboy, Zulie.  It’s a dishonour,” Utu said with a defeated righteousness.  Like a temple priest under the boot of a conqueror.  “I - I mean, what would I even do in a place like this!  It’s beautiful and exciting and vivacious!  I don’t fit in here, we both know that.”  Utu looked around, smiling benevolently but oh, so detached, at the exclusive Vamp guests.  “I’m the farthest thing from glamourous.  And if you want me doing your accounting…”  Utu grinned, trying to push back his sadness.  “…I’ll politely refuse.”

It was nice, talking to Utu, making him laugh by bad-mouthing logistics. It reminded Erzulie of the best parts of working at Attaboy with him. Of course, if she was being truly nostalgic, Pan was always there, trying to draw their attention to him through some ridiculous suggestion or prank. She had missed that too, despite how annoying it had been at the time. Here Erzulie didn't have any pushback to her more flamboyant ideas, which inevitably ended in her investing too much in some venture that in the end she too despised. Pan's interruptions, now that was something they could never get back.

At least Utu found her sayings and advice useful. Erzulie shrugged in her usual humble-but-not-humble way. It was part of her. The analogy wasn't perfect, but it would get the point across. She did laugh at the thought of stepping on Tez with her best pair of shoes, the ones with the shifting fibre optic cable lights on the undersole. "As long as I don't scratch her leather, or her glass." At least there was one foot that wouldn't hurt.

Erzulie tensed as Utu asked if she was okay, doing business with Tez. For one paranoid moment Erzulie worried that he might know, know that her business relationship with Tez extended beyond the supply of Tez's goods. That Tez was Erzulie's patron, the funder in the shadows. Erzulie wanted to tell them, wanted to get it off of her chest and receive some of Utu's advice in exchange. But... she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, not in this meeting where Utu looked at her as this great success. "I can handle Tez," Erzulie decreed, giving Utu a confident, assured smile. "I know the dance."

That smile had disappeared as Erzulie ranted about Pan, how he vexed her as much as she missed him. It only reappeared when Utu pulled forth a handkerchief for her. Erzulie let out a shaky, soft scoff of disbelief, taking the handkerchief and dabbing her tears away. Thankfully waterproof mascara had been perfected a few centuries back, no streaky tears for Erzulie to fret about. But the very motion of having a handkerchief, offering it to Erzulie... It was so chivalrous, so sweet, oh how could she resist them!

"He brought us together," Erzulie said, when Utu asked why they had worked with Pan. Attaboy had been his project to start with, and despite his vexing, contrary nature, he was a glue, one who encouraged Utu's mischievousness, kept Erzulie's garish flourishes in check. "And... sometimes he was right," Erzulie admitted, a rare acknowledgement that only came because Pan was dead. He would be simply insufferable if he ever heard her say those words. She almost expected him to rise from non-existence just at her uttering those words.

Still, after her plea Utu would not leave Attaboy. Erzulie smiled through the fresh tears as Utu tried to soften the blow by denying he fitted in with Vamp. "Good, virtuous Utu," Erzulie bemoaned, reaching her hand out to Utu once more. "I wish you would be less honourable." Erzulie sighed, squeezing Utu's warm, dry hand. He was not glamorous, not in his slightly rumpled shirt, his curly hair and beard that Erzulie wanted to drag her fingers through. Fitting them into Vamp would be a stretch, but wouldn't it be worth it? To have them by her side? "Say you'll think on it? I would be a better dance partner than Tez," Zulie suggested, though in this dance it would be the both of them teeing up against her. Something she would reveal if Utu was serious about joining her. "I have an open mic night, it's quieter than..." Erzulie gestured around them, the comforting chaos of Vamp on its busiest night.

[erzulie-the-vamp]

hephaestxs​:

Or there’s my apartment. Hephaestus’ brows pinch momentarily and in the minutia. This he had not expected. Because above all else Erzulie was supreme in her right as goddess of vamp, and because they had only ever co-existed together within this space. Her apartment. It was the sort of offering a friend would make, or someone wishing to initiate more. But even he was not fool enough to mistake Erzulie’s friendliness for something more. Curious. He offered a very slight smile, before setting himself proper by adjusting his watch. Unnecessary it was already set to the precise loop needed. “If it isn’t trouble.” 

The locations, be it her apartment, her booth, really it could be anywhere so long as it was private. Hephaestus had failed with Utu. Perhaps he really might have a shot after all with Erzulie. She was well-loved. Could easily win Vesta over if need be. He stood up, following Erzulie as she lead the way out of Vamps. Doing her rites as she left to shut up shop and give the remaining staff their orders. Hephaestus leant against the doorway watching as Erzulie flitted about the club. There was no-one really like her in New Orleans. 

She returned to him with a glossy smile. “Lead the way,” he asked. Of which it seemed she was destined to oblige. Hephaestus made fast presumptions about what he would find upstairs in her inner sanctum. What would be appropriate for a goddess of love, passion and beauty. Presumably it would be at odds with what Heph idolised, but he couldn’t berate her of her comforts.

Erzulie felt foolish for suggesting her apartment. Yes, she and Hephaestus were friends, at least Erzulie considered Hephaestus her friend. They had spent countless nights chatting like this, over a few drinks. Still, inviting him to her apartment felt like something more. They hadn't really met anywhere which wasn't the place of business for the other. Erzulie had gone to Volcan-x, or Hephaestus had come here. Still, Erzulie's nerves dissolved away at Heph's guarded smile, his nervous fiddling. "Right then," she grinned, fizzing with excitement.

Erzulie dashed away for a moment to tidy things up, make sure her staff were all sorted, that the roster was correct for tomorrow. Just as it happened it turned out that Julie was sick, so Erzulie scheduled herself in to take over the afternoon shift on the bar. That crisis averted, Erzulie came back to Heph, slipping into her fibre-optic, feathered bolero. Yes, she lived above Vamp. No, she did not need a jacket for the brief foray into the slightly cooler corridor and then elevator to get to her apartment. But the jacket gave Erzulie and Entrance and an Exit. The feathers shimmered gold and silver as she blew kisses to her remaining staff. And then it was just her and Heph.

It felt wrong to be taking Hephaestus up her her apartment. The journey up was full of awkward silences, Erzulie trying not to look over at Heph, wondering if he was looking at her. If he wanted something more than privacy to talk about Pan... No, it would be foolish of Erzulie to get involved with Heph. She'd sworn off gods since Utu. But but but but but... Erzulie gave herself a stern talking to in the seconds the waited in the lift, so that by the time they arrived at her level she was determined to not fuck this friendship up.

"My home," Erzulie proclaimed as she walked through the doors of the lift, into the chaos of her living-diner-kitchen. The living room part was the most accessible, only a few costumes crowded the cushions and throws that decorated the mismatching loungers. The dining table was buried under props and costumes, underneath it a few boxes of glassware that Erzulie had bought on a whim and then decided didn't fit Vamp. The kitchen was messy, pots piled in the sink that she'd been leaving to soak until this morning... "Ah, what a sight for guests!" Erzulie shooed Heph towards the couches, gathering up the costumes and placing them on an empty dining chair.

"Would you like tea? Coffee? A drink?" Erzulie asked Heph once that was done, slinking off her feathered jacket and placing it on the back of the chair. "Something to sip on while we discuss your private business?"

[erzulie-the-vamp]

ofjackals​:

While Anubis can certainly appreciate the talent it took to perform on one of Vamps usual evenings, bodies swaying to the thrum of music that vibrated through the body, lights that flashed, highlighted, accentuated every curve and sensuous gyration… He doesn’t particularly enjoy the sensory bombardment, and after his initial introduction to the club, he hasn’t really frequented it since… Unless it was a night like tonight.  You could hear the echo of footsteps across the floor.  The subtle murmurs of quiet conversations by a different kind of clientele…  An altogether changed experience.  As though the place was in disguise – or perhaps it was more laid bare.  More naked than the usual abundance of nakedness… Simpler.

On nights like these, talent is not always present… But he does enjoy the bravery of those performers.  Taking to the stage to take a chance…  To see if their jokes will raise a chuckle, if their song will play heartstrings, if their poems will usher forth emotion, if their words will move the soul…

…To be brave regardless of the odds of success or failure… Was another of those curious human traits.  And he enjoys the attempt as much as the performances.          ( Though the poems seem to be blander, the music more repetitive, the jokes falling flatter upon his ears.  When not cast in the vivid hues that Tenjin brought to the world, there was a lack of glimmer, of sparkle, of inspiration… But he does still try to see it… However small…)

And he’s distracted from the performer on stage anyway, their performance fading into the background as someone else… something else… approaches.

And to Anubis at least, Erzulie brings with her a myriad of sensations…           She feels like a fierce downpour in the middle of summer, straight down, heavy rain, bringing relief from the heat while pounding the body by the sheer force of it.  She smells like expensive perfume, oils, ointments and honey - subtly shifting so that the senses do not acclimatise, each breath a heady mix of something new, tempting and delicious.  And she sounds…

…Mildly amused.  Which is probably less to do with the act on the stage and more to do with Anubis nestled in that quiet little corner.

Turning slightly to accommodate her presence, allowing her to fill his attention completely, Anubis just blinks at the ‘joke’.  Not a smile.  Not a hint or a flicker or a sliver of a crack to that neutral facade.

“I was trying to figure out why the ball kept getting bigger…  …Then it hit me.”

.

Erzulie did not know Anubis well. His energy was calm, though, measured and patient. Cool like the desert at night. Shy, hidden. Erzulie much preferred Anubis to the lwa Guede, now that was a boisterous family! All spice and rum and fire, they all got on her nerves! No, Anubis was calm, like a still lake. Mirror sharp and enticing Erzulie to sink in.

Ah, or maybe that's just the poetry and the gigglewater talking.

Anubis reacted slowly to her greeting, a statement that did not make sense at first. He played it incredibly deadpan, so much so in fact that the point missed her before hitting her square in the face.

Erzulie let out a loud, unexpected squawk of laughter. She covered over her mouth as silence hushed the room, someone nearby hushed her. Hushed! Her! The giggles nearly overtook Erzulie then and there, but she held firm, her shoulders bouncing as she tried to avoid finding the humour in trying not to laugh.

"Cher!" she finally hissed towards Anubis, leaning over and giving his arm a friendly tap. A telling off, an encouragement. "I knew you were a comic! Black comedy, huh?" Erzulie wanted to believe it so bad. Anubis cracking jokes as he weighed your heart. She gave Anubis a big, toothy grin, clinking her glass against his before taking a sip.

"You here just to test new material?" Erzulie asked him, setting down her glass as the club tilted before her eyes. "I don't think I've seen you here before. In Vamp."

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

Utu bit his lip to prevent a conversation about Hephaestus.  Not a debate and definitely not and argument; Utu would never go to that level.  And were this any other time than Utu showing up to Vamp after so long, with his tail tucked between his legs and begging advice from the ever-savvy Erzulie, they might’ve engaged.  Light coffee-shop conversation, slightly gossipy perhaps, about their fellow deity.  The successful, inventive, overbearing, single-minded fellow deity.

Instead, Utu’s smile was benevolent and understanding.  “We can certainly count on Heph for a lot, and for his usual brand of consistency,” he said diplomatically, hoping to see the guardedness drop from her expression, and melt into a stunning smile.

A wild thought appeared out of Utu’s forested mind: had Erzulie and Heph ever…collided?  Utu sent the thought skittering to the corners of his mind, hidden in darkness and therefore ignored.

Erzulie’s humblebrag was incredibly endearing.  Utu always loved her theatrics, usually so engaging and yet classy.  If Erzulie wanted you to feel at home, she could make anyone feel like they belonged.  Maybe Utu had that same vibe in their own way.  Maybe Pan did doo.  No one needed to be excluded, around them.  No one felt left out.  And yet, in the end, that was precisely why Erzulie split.  

But tonight, Utu just winked and clucked his tongue.  “It’s just a matter of boring old logistics.  Vision needs open space, hm?  Like…considering opening a second location?  Franchising Vamp, maybe?”  It was only a tease, but a fun one.  

But enough of his silly, unrealistic teases, when Erzulie had digested his complaints, and was now ready to provide her advice.  This had value; this was exactly why Utu came to Vamp, sought Erzulie out.  This was more than just trusting her judgement.  Maybe their friendship and partnership cracked apart,  maybe feelings turned bruised; but Erzulie’s acumen and skillsets never changed.  

Utu gave a long harrumph of uneasy agreement about that saying, not liking where this was going.  And there it was: don’t say no outright, to Tez.  Hadn’t he already though.  But that was the literal night of Pan’s funeral and wake, so perhaps Tez  was just testing Utu’s water for herself, before she made some actual overture towards him regarding Attaboy.  He looked displeased by this advice though, coming from Erzulie.  But what did he want?  Dramatics and extremes?  Veles-style portends of doom?  Tearful confessions, from Erzulie?  Hadn’t he seen enough of her tears?

‘String her along’.  Utu couldn’t help a grim laugh.  “Zulie…it’s me.  She’ll know what I’m doing, and I can’t see her appreciating someone like me, stringing someone like her along…”  But then Utu tilted their head in consideration.  “Or maybe she’ll like that I‘m actually trying to play the game?  Maybe she’d find it amusing and indulge me…”  Utu shook his curly-haired head.  “How the hell did Pan manage to keep her at bay.”

Utu, lost in thought, squeezed Erzulie’s hands in his.  An idle massage, like he couldn’t help being productive even now.  Erzulie’s next suggestions rolled out, one by one, to the point where Utu wondered if perhaps Erzulie had already been thinking about the fate of Attaboy.

Of course she had.  Because Erzulie had vision.

Utu stared at Erzulie, his breath catching at the last suggestion.  “Work with me.  Us, working together.  You’re successful.  Too many sets, too many decorations.  You could - we could merge…”  He flushed slightly, thinking ‘merge’ was perhaps too salacious a word, so he hastily added, one,  “…businesses.”

Utu licked their lips.  “If you need more space!  I have space, Erzulie.  I’d still need to finance the renovations part, I could handle that - “  A loan from Kanaloa didn’t seem that bad an idea.  Worse that Tez?  That remained to be seen.  “- but Attaboy and Vamp could be siblings.  You could bring some element of Vamp into Attaboy.  It’s - “  Utu stammered but pushed through.  “Bringing us back into partnership - it’s what Pan would’ve wanted.”

.

Erzulie could tell that Utu meant more by their little comment about Heph. But it was a way of appeasing her need to defend Utu,  an admission of defeat. Erzulie liked winning, so she saw no point in wheedling out just what constituted Utu's opinion of Heph's consistent brand. Utu's persistent righteousness could be troublesome, and Erzulie had no wish to argue with them tonight. Not over Hephaestus, anyway.

"Bah, logistics!" Erzulie waved her hand at the word. The bane of her existence! The bane of any creative endeavour. Where to store the gold sequin curtains she couldn't bear to part with? Let alone the costumes that weren't right for this season, but could be used in another year's time? The answer, Erzulie's spare bedroom. She waved her hand again at franchising Vamp. Vamp was an experience, Erzulie's temple, in a way. She could not split Vamp in two.

Erzulie could tell that as she gave Utu her advice, they did not like it. In playing the game. "It's like dancing," Erzulie agreed with Utu, squeezing his hands. "You make more friends stepping on toes than standing dead-still." It would be endearing, yes, to play along. Tezcatlipoca was a panther, after all. She liked to play with her food.

"Pan... he played his own games. He was a challenge in his own right to work alongside, let alone be his adversary." He and Erzulie had butted heads constantly. he couldn't help but want to change things up, whether that was opening hours, or cocktail menus, set-lists or suppliers. It had been maddening, and Utu had been her confidant when Pan had been just impossible. Hadn't that been how the trouble started? Erzulie, the reassurer, being reassured by Utu? Even now, she loved how warm his hands were on hers.

Erzulie's next suggestions struck Utu's fancy. She saw hope spark in his eyes, excitement that fluttered in her own chest like a butterfly hatched from its cocoon, it was electrifying and tempting, but... "Cher..." she started, but Utu barelled on, and on. They were caught in the idea, the dream of Attaboy and Vamp working together.

It’s what Pan would’ve wanted.

"Pan would have wanted to be here!" Erzulie exclaimed, pulling her hands away from Utu's as she felt her eyes smart with tears. She looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to keep them at bay, dabbing her fingers at her lashline. "Pan was egotistical, and stubborn, and would have fought us on every single change we made to his beloved dive bar because he fought us on every single change we did make!" Erzulie laughed, sharp and bitter and sardonic. He had fought them on everything! He was impossible to work with and Erzulie still missed their battles! "He would hate that you are trying to take Attaboy and turn it into something is is not, and you know that! He hated Vamp!" Pan thought it was tacky, and glib and bright and melodramatic and contrived and he was wrong, but still! He would be rolling in his grave if he thought Utu would hand the reigns of design over to Erzulie.

"You can still be happy, but it won't be at Attaboy." Erzulie reached for Utu's hands again. He was already trying to appease Pan's non-existent ghost. "But maybe you could be happy here." It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

[erzulie-the-vamp]

hephaestxs​:

He hadn’t ever seen Vamps so busy. In all of his visits. Which had never been numerous, yet Hephaestus always found himself gravitating towards her club whenever he did venture out. “It was odd.” Hephaestus watched her glance away, anyone else would assume that her shrug was careless but Heph had spent enough time with her to know better. Long before their paths had ever truly crossed Erzulie had been part of that trio. Utu. Erzulie. Pan. He’d heard the gossip and rumours that had encircled all three of them in their heydays. He did not however, know any of them all that well back then. Utu shrouded in their golden enigma, Pan too much of an annoyance and Erzulie untouchable.

Times had changed. 

“We shouldn’t be having funerals, or memorials.” It wasn’t right. On any account. Hephaestus glanced around, they weren’t necessarily alone albeit the remaining bodies were all Erzulie’s staff. It was not the place for them to be freely talking. Hastily, he finished the whiskey she had gotten him. “No doubt the festivities that Ash held in his honour would have been well loved by Peter.” Though to any outsider they would’ve seemed obscene. “I have been meaning to come speak to you.”

“About him.” About everything. If there was anyone that would surely have an answer it felt as though it would be Erzulie. She saw the world differently to him. Saw the best, and the worst, in everyone. “Can we speak in private…?” It wasn’t unusual for them to retire to her private booth. Talk for hours – mostly her doing the talking. Drink and concede that the world was not as it used to be.  

They shouldn't be having funerals. "You are so right...!” That was the cognitive dissonance that Erzulie had been facing, that having a funeral for Pan had been so, so wrong. He out of all of the gods had been so vivacious, full and bursting of life. Erzulie shook her head solemnly, humming in agreement. She took another sip of her drink, but even the gigglewater couldn't lift her spirits. "Going... felt like it would make it real." And Erzulie wasn't ready for that. She would never be ready to admit that Pan was dead.

Erzulie did her best to pick herself up when Hephaestus said he had wanted to speak with her. She liked feeling needed, wanted, sought out. The thrill of belonging, of being chased. Heph didn't chase her like he was courting her... but Erzulie could pretend. "Yes, yes of course there's my booth..." Erzulie paused, and then bullishly went on. "Or there's my apartment?" Above them, part store-house and part living quarters. Erzulie's inner sanctum, as she called it. Completely private. More importantly, the chairs up there did not have tables in the middle to separate them. Erzulie shouldn't dream about sidling up next to Hephaestus on her lounge set but...! Who could blame her if her daydreams did not feature cracking Hephaestus' mirror-steel shell to find the soft, gooey center underneath? One that could be unlocked by a reciprocal opening of hearts? Of finding comfort in Pan’s tragedy? It was wrong, it was callous of her, but love was selfish, single-minded.  

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Location: Vamp, Open Mic Night @ofjackals 

Vamp was usually closed on Mondays, but on the last Monday of every month, a quiet queue would form in the early evening outside. The quiet, abandoned mood to Vamp gave it a reclusive atmosphere. Erzulie leant into that vibe, turned down the lights, pulled up curtains around the stage so the room felt smaller, more intimate. On the stage instead of burlesque or powerful singers was... well anything. Poets, spoken word, lectures, comedy, anything went at Open Mic night.

Tonight was another moody and quiet Monday, Erzulie flitted about behind the scenes, sorting the schedule, preparing drinks, making sure everyone was seated and making friendly with the guests. She loved this, loved watching mortals get up and make works of art, loved that they were able to share this part of their being because of her work, because Vamp was welcoming and charming and attractive.

Sometimes they were joined by divinity. Gods playing among the mortals. It hardly felt fair when Tenjin took to the stage! Today, her divine guest was not a performer, but a spectator, hanging around the shadows of the room. Divine energy rippled from him, dark and mysterious. Erzulie drew closer and recognised him as Anubis. The secretive death god, one who always kept to himself. Ah, but Erzulie kept her ear out for Rumour herself, and had a few sinking suspicions as to why Anubis might be sniffing around her Open Mic night. She looked around, and confirmed that Tenjin was absent tonight.

"Are you going to perform?" Erzulie asked Anubis, slipping into the chair next to him like she owned the place, which she did. "Let me guess, stand up comedy?" Erzulie teased, swirling her drink around in her cocktail glass. "What's the deal with ripperdocs? You go to get one hand fixed and end up with two!" Erzulie dryly joked, a joke which was at least a few decades old.

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

“You’ve always been creative with your fashion for as long as I’ve known you,”  Utu said with a grin, although they were relatively newly acquainted in descended forms.  But then Utu hadn’t descended in a long while; he couldn’t even remember when was the last time (he wasn’t even sure how long ago he’d descended this time around…his memory could get so spotty sometimes and it hardly seemed important); but guaranteed it had been with his sister.  

Descending alone and finding Erzulie through Pan…well Inanna and Erzulie were nothing alike, so it wasn’t as if Utu was reminded of their sister.  And they were loathe to compare Erzulie to anything like a relation.  It seemed like it might…insult Erzulie.  

No; she was a special friend and a once-business partner for Utu.  A dear friend.  A friend he missed.  Part of their glorious trio: Pan, Erzulie, and Utu, tromping about New Orleans or animatedly arguing at Attaboy over this or that.  They’d take turns taking sides; no one felt more favoured by the other, no one felt boxed out.  The perfect trio.

Why couldn’t it have lasted?  In the aftermath of Erzulie leaving Attaboy, maybe Utu felt a little resentful it all turned out that way.  Pan had swung between absolutely devastated to absolutely livid, to completely ambivalent.  Utu sometimes resented Pan for not committing to Erzulie.  Sometimes himself for not being in love with Erzulie in the way she wanted.  And sometimes for Erzulie, for her love spilling over into dejection and anger when it didn’t go her way.

“Seems Heph’s got his fingers in every pie around town…”  Utu squeezed his biomech arm.  Heph and Tez.  Two opposite sides of the same spectrum, and everyone caught inbetween.  

Anyway.  Utu was here for business, and they were incredibly grateful that Erzulie was giving him advice.  Utu knew damn well he was taking advantage of the situation: Pan was dead, and so Erzulie would be more amenable to speaking with him, helping him.  Was this manipulative?  Utu didn’t have any ill-intent, even if they did feel a bit…callous.  That the only reason they’d shown up at Vamp, after all this time, was because Pan was dead.  Pan would be laughing at this, sarcastically calling Utu ‘cutthroat’ and ‘hardcore’ by now, Utu was sure.

Attaboy was too dark.

Utu smiled at Erzulie’s adroit observation, squeezed her hand a bit tighter to show his pleasure. He followed her gaze to the glittery, showy stage.  “I don’t have the brain power to set up anything this glamourous.  I think you gotta have vision for that.”

Utu licked his lips. “Yeah.  See, the problem is, if I had it my way, I’d just renovate, extend the coffeeshop to the back, open it all up.  A patio, more sunlight, something for people to come find respite and comfort.  Like the 90s.  Remember in the 1990s, when everything was about bookstores and coffeeshops and people just…browsing?”  Utu smiled nostalgically, but then continued.  “Anyway.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but - my way isn’t financially viable.  The speakeasy was Attaboy’s bread and butter, unfortunately.  Without that…um…income, the coffeeshop can’t survive.”

Utu made a face, then cautiously added,  “Tez has already made an offer.”  HIs face silently pleaded with Erzulie: warn me.  Tell me to tell Tez no.  “I despise the idea of having only one choice, or else.  It’s not right, Zulie.”

.

"Hephaestus works hard to have his fingers in so many pies," Erzulie said to Utu's muttered comment, defensive of her friend. He was clever, an innovator of all kinds, beloved of humans since his inception. "Technology grows greater and greater with every descent," Erzulie said, feeling it was her duty to defend Hephaestus' honour. He cam across as grumpy and arrogant, and he was, but he had a good heart, good intentions. But not everyone saw him that way, the way Erzulie saw him.

Erzulie sighed and focused on Utu instead. The deity in front of her, who was flattering her just the way she liked to be flattered. If anyone knew how to flatter Erzulie to get what they wanted, it was Utu (and Hebe). "I have too many visions, almost," Erzulie sighed, a sly complaint that was really just a way to better frame herself. "Too many sets, too many decorations." Her apartment was half-living quarters, half-storage for all of her bought but unused items.

She listened as Utu described their ideal coffee room. A 90s revival cafe, now that was a thought! Erzulie could just imagine the grunge rockers in one corner, in the other a gaggle of youths in lowcut jeans and layered shirts and butterfly clips and baggy shorts and basketball jerseys. It was a remnant of a bygone era. Mortals were so lively, this descent, determined to dance their worries away, let the good times roll. The building could be on fire, smoke pouring into the club and Erzulie would be struggling to push out the revellers. 

Erzulie screwed her mouth to the side as Utu admitted that their dream was more ethereal than practical. That Attaboy's survival depended on the dark and dreary underbelly. Erzulie wasn't sure what Utu wanted her to say, until he brought up Tez.

Tez gave Erzulie the creeps, the fervent eyes and knowing smile. She hated Tez, but she could not deny that without Tez she wouldn't have Vamp, her dream. And she had thought that she would be free from weaselly debts and contracts if she kept clear of Kalfou. Erzulie sighed, debating explaining her personal experience as one of Tez's beloved debtors. Her pride kept her tongue still on this one point. Utu was so impressed with Vamp and she wanted him to stay impressed. She didn't want that distaste that came to his face as he mentioned Tezcatlipoca to sour his perception of her success. She wanted to win the not-a-break-up.

She was duty bound to give Utu advice, his lost eyes struck her soul. "Oh cher..." she sighed, torn on what the best advice would be. "There's a saying... 'Kouri lapli, tonbe larivyè.' In running from the rain you fall into the river." Erzulie offered, which felt apt for all situations that relied on dealing with Tez. "If she has made you an offer I would not reject her outright." As Erzulie had done, certain that she could garner support from Kanaloa. And when Erzulie had crawled back to Tezcatlipoca, the previous offer had been wiped off the table and Erzulie had been forced to kneel and beg for Tez's patronage. The honte still made Erzulie burn up in shame. "String her along, while you seek out other options. You could try Kanaloa for a loan, if you wanted to remodel Attaboy," Erzulie mused, slightly bitter. Utu had the club and experience of running it, so perhaps Kanaloa could be persuaded to part with some of his ill-gotten funds.

Erzulie paused, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of Utu's hands, their benevolent presence. "Of course, you could always give up Attaboy," she said, barelling on before Utu could recoil at the very thought. Before she lost the courage for what she wanted to say. "You could lease a location outside of the overpriced French Quarter for your coffee shop..." Or... "You could run charter boats at sunrise out on the lake..." Or or or "You could come to Vamp and work with me?" Again, that dangerous tango of shared time and inside jokes and unrequited affection. Erzulie was a glutton for punishment.

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Do you regret turning your back on Utu and Pan especially now Pan is gone?

"Out of my many gifts, clairvoyancy is not among them. I doubt my staying would have changed anything, if that's what you're insinuating."

"But… perhaps… maybe I let my emotions get too far ahead of me. It's not like I can help it! But… I do wish we had rekindled our friendship while Pan was still around. He would have brought some much needed levity."

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Location: Erzulie’s apartment, above Vamp @ausrineofthestars​

Erzulie didn't want to say anything, out of concern that bringing attention to it would make it worse. The truth of it was that Ausrine had been off since Pan's death. Everyone had Vamp had been affected, Hebe and Ausrine shell-shocked while Megaera was merely vexed to have been denied the opportunity of sending him off herself. Erzulie? Erzulie was fine, as long as she didn't think about it too long, what gone, vanished, meant when it came to an immortal deity. Erzulie ignoring the fall in Hebe and Ausrine's performance had been partly out of self-preservation. But it had to be done.

So, on a day when Ausrine wasn't scheduled to perform, Erzulie called Ausrine to her apartment. It, like Vamp, was opulent. Unlike Vamp, her apartment was not edited back to elegant. The lounge was bursting of furniture, pieces she couldn't decide between, including two fainting couches, and plenty of loveseats (Erzulie adored love-seats!). There were almost too many cushions to be able to sit on the couches properly, and then throws and rugs thrown over the back of the chairs. The lace curtains in front of her windows billowed in the wind, adding to the dreamy air of the room.

The door rang as Erzulie finished up in the kitchen, pouring them both some drinks. Erzulie buzzed Ausrine in and stood in awe of her morning's work. She'd stewed up some gumbo, baked sweet pain de mais and fried up some plantains, and she had a bakery on standby to send up some fresh beignets if needed. Ausrine knocked on the door and Erzulie came and welcomed them in, dragging them over to the lounge, the cornbread within easy reach on the coffee table.

"I miss Pan," Erzulie declared, because it was easier to turn the lens on herself than worry that Ausrine may try and squirm their way out of an intervention. "I hated him and I loved him and I miss him, and I know you felt the same way about him too. I thought we could eat comfort food, drink, cry and talk about him, and about this whole shitty situation."

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Location: Vamp @mcgaera​

"Any bites tonight?" Erzulie asked Megaera, sliding a drink over to the fury at the bar. She was quite the bait, flowing hair, low-cut dress, ruby red lips. Erzulie wouldn't mind a nibble, but! after her fall-out with Utu, co-workers were strictly off-bounds. Megaera was more than 'off-limits', she was the definition of off-limits. 

"You know... I must have had my heart broken at least four times this year," Erzulie mused, fixing herself a little coconutty drink. "Why don't you hunt down those exes?" Erzulie asked, more of a tease than a genuine question. ​

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

“No no, I mean it!”  Utu said, completely missing the way Erzulie was only being playfully modest with her comment.  Instead he just nodded as she gave a slow spin, no qualms about fully appreciating her.  In the thrill of her presence, it was like he’d entirely forgotten the reason why Erzulie had been misled by him during their Attaboy days - Utu was prone to open admiration of Erzulie.  He truly did think she was an incredible in so many different, discerning ways.  She was like fine wine or a well-aged scotch.  (Once he’d compared her to a perfectly fermented camel cheese, which hadn’t gone down as well as he’d intended, unfortunately) - she was meant to be appreciated fully, with all your senses.

But Utu had the ability to honestly dote on others, without wanting to be with them.  And here he was, doing it again - so agog was he by Erzulie’s stunning grace.

“Then again, you could make a sack look couture, huh?” Utu continued, pleasant and blithe, thinking so far this was going quite well.  They trotted along after Erzulie, up to the mezzanine.  Utu paused at the railing, gazing down at the crowd below, the stage beyond that.  It was pulsing with life and energy, all in free-flow.  Utu marveled.  He tried to discern, through his senses and vibes alone, if the festivity of Vamp was similar to the speakeasy of Attaboy.  It was and it wasn’t.  People clearly considered Vamp special, an experience, exclusive.  Pan’s speakeasy required a password, so very exclusive.  There was a sleek, secretive, sleaziness about Pan’s speakeasy that didn’t seem to taint Vamp’s crowd, but maybe Utu was just seeing what they wanted to see.  The veneer of Vamp’s glitz and glamour.

“Oh.  Oh!”  Utu finally paid attention to where they were going, pausing to give Hebe a nod of hello when she caught their eye.  They slipped into the booth, noting the way the noise became muffled inside the niche.  “Incredible.  Some tech of Heph’s design, or some other kind of noise-cancelling method?”  Utu asked Erzulie.

With only a tiny beat of hesitation, Utu then reached out to clasp Erzulie.  His long fingers curled around her wrists, his sink dry but soft and always so warm.  “I’m…well - actually ‘how I’m doing’ is my reason for coming here, Yulie.  I’m - I need some advice.  Do you have time to give me some?” Before Erzulie could respond, Utu quickly hastened to add, “It’s about the fate of Attaboy.  Not the coffee shop side perse.  But the other side of it.  Pan’s side…”  Utu looked out towards the railing, the busy floor below.  “Vamp is an incredible success.  Your work here shows in every corner of this place, Yulie.”

.

Erzulie scoffed as Utu said she could make a sack look couture, casting a glance back at them. "You've seen me in worse," she teased, remembering one specific incident at Attaboy, where Erzulie had ended up drenched in red wine and had to make herself a shirt out of a few barcloths tied together. Pan had made a show of trying to pull it apart, of course. Erzulie had about bitten off his head that night- Her smile faded as she remembered… Pan wouldn't be coming back, wouldn't look over at her with that I'm-not-up-to-anything mischievous smile, wouldn't annoy her to the point of nearly tearing her weave out…

She had Utu, at least, someone who knew what it was like to love and loathe and long for Pan. Erzulie sighed as she faced Utu, taking in his face. He looked tired, they always looked tired when the sun had set, like some of the glow about them had faded. 

She straightened as Utu praised the soundproofing technology. "Yes, Hephaestus installed it for me last year," she pointed out, a little conspicuous consumption that ended her deeper in Tezcatlipoca's pockets, but it was practically a necessity for Erzulie. She thrived on private conversations, confidants seeking out advice, a listening ear- exactly why Utu had sought her out. "I always have time for my friends," Erzulie said without meaning to. How easy it was to slip into friendship with Utu. It was those dark brown eyes of his, dreamy and comforting and divine-

No, Zulie, she chided herself, even as she let Utu hold onto her hands. Their warmth flooded through her, the comfort of that perfect spot on the beach, slipping into a warm bath, a spa... Yes, she knew that Utu didn't feel for her like that. Yes, she knew that even being in his presence was rekindling those feelings she had buried under a pile of hurt and resentment. But how could she turn them away? It was Utu. And he was alone now, no Pan to look after him, no one (she thought, conveniently forgetting the dingy little corner down the back where Veles lingered and muttered prophecies, it suited her own vanity better to be Utu's sole protector). 

Erzulie listened as Utu explained his trouble, of dealing with Pan's side of Attaboy. It had been Pan's and Erzulie's side, before everything when to custard. "I've worked hard to make Vamp a success," Erzulie preened, eager to minimise or simply ignore Tezcatlipoca's financial contribution to her success. It was Erzulie who had fought for it, Erzulie who ran it and pruned it into what it was today. "I always told Pan, Attaboy was too dark," she said, taking a moment to look out over to the stage. It shone like a jewel, but you could see everyone in the seats still, and they could see themselves in their selfies and pictures. Pan had loved the dingy corners, perfect place for him to get up to no good...

Erzulie's smile faltered again, but this time she couldn't hide it from Utu, who was looking right at her. "I still can't believe he's really gone," she sighed, squeezing Utu's hands. "I keep expecting him to burst in laughing at the joke he's pulled, that we all thought he was gone..." Except it was no joke, not if Alekto's raw-rage was to be believed. Erzulie sighed, and then gave a little giggle. "Oh, I was supposed to be listening to your troubles... Tell me what you plan to do with Attaboy, won't you? I promise to be impartial." 

[erzulie-the-vamp]

hephaestxs​:

Hephaestus didn’t like the noise of Vamps. That wasn’t what drew him. It wasn’t the girls either. Despite the gossip that suggested otherwise. He wasn’t interested in the drinks. Though he was content to occasionally sip something in the shaded back booth. Never alot. Never to the point of consumption. It was a little ritual coming to Vamps. To linger even once the dancers had long gone and the musicians were beginning to pack away. Tonight, he had made it in time for one last performance. Not just anyone. The goddess herself. Hephaestus burned through a cigar listening to her performance. He knew it was her even with his back to the stage. The silk of her voice ebbed and flowed through Vamps. Even though this was her place. Even though it was utterly her domain. She had always felt a step above. She was meant for greatness.

It wasn’t every night that he came, and out of those nights not all of them did they even talk. He had burnt through his cigar and was deciding whether to up and leave when a hand found his shoulder. Erzulie adorned with her illusive smiles and jewels. She had brought him a drink, so he could scarcely refuse and leave now. Not when they hadn’t spoken for some weeks. It hadn’t been that way intentionally. Only, affairs had kept Hephaestus busy. She hadn’t been at the memorial, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, but he had hoped she might come. If only so there was a friendly face.

She was here now.

“You’re keeping well I hope?” He asks. Not touching the glass of whiskey yet as he discards the stubby end of his cigar. “Me? Everything is fine. Well, except for the obvious.” Pan was dead, destroyed. Tsukuyomi was a growing worry. Heph sighed. And after a moment or two he simply says. “I’m just glad to see you.” Which is one truth. It isn’t often that Hephaestus speaks in plain truths. 

Hephaestus half-wonders if he might ask they speak in private. If only because half of the questions he wants to ask cannot be spoken about so openly. But, such a request has connotations. Never more so than with Erzulie. Queen of love, earth and sisterhood. 

“I didn’t see you at the memorial…” 

Erzulie sipped her drink as Hephaestus settled before her, stubbing out his foul smelling cigar. Her drink was refreshing and light, just what she needed to stave off the weariness from another busy night. "Business is good," Erzulie says pleasantly, motioning to club winding down around them. "Busier than ever, even!" and Erzulie knew why, and that her surge in business was due to Pan's death was more bitter than sweet. She nodded along as Hephaestus alluded to it with, except for the obvious. Erzulie hummed non-commitally. She'd been putting on a brave face for Vamp, for Ausrine and Hebe. It still hadn't hit her yet, not truly. And from Hephaestus' weariness, she felt that he was in the same boat as her. "I'm glad to see you too," Erzulie said, reaching out across the table to squeeze his hand. "You're always a welcome sight around here," she said, hoping he felt that despite its glitz and glamour that Vamp was a place he could come to for support. That he could come to Erzulie if he needed help.

She was about to suggest they retire to her private booth when Hephaestus addressed the elephant in the room. "I didn't go," she said, twirling her cocktail glass before picking it up and taking a large sip from her drink. Most people knew that the split of Erzulie from Attaboy had been less than amicable. Quite the opposite of amicable, fiery and fierce. Still, she had loved Pan, she loved Utu. The thought that she would never see him again, not in this descension or the next pained her. Erzulie sighed and shrugged, looking out over to the bar. "How was it?" she asked Heph, as if it were merely a movie she hadn’t streamed. 

It was better that she hadn’t gone. Erzulie would have drunk too much, ended up getting into a fight with someone over nothing, bitch-slapped someone else, and probably smashed Pan’s urn to the ground. Or that’s at least what she told herself.

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

☼

Her voice cut across the din like a silent ship cutting through dark open water.  Effortless.  Erzulie never had trouble with being heard, whether she spoke in low, sensual decibels or shrieked between her tears and rage.  However she spoke, she captured the attention of her focus without fail.

Utu felt it.  They hadn’t felt it in years.  He was surprised at himself to realize at some point during their work partnership with Attaboy’s, he’d even become used to hearing Erzulie and not thinking much of it beyond his enjoyment of her company.  He’d taken her for granted (had he taken Pan for granted too?  Stars above…) and then one day, she was gone. 

Now, hearing her speaking his name again, Utu felt himself practically glowing from within, that same feeling he got when Pan dazzled him with a smile, or pat him on his back, or snuggled up to him in some appeal for forgiveness.  Warmth emanated and light illuminated under his dark eyes.  The hymn in their head reverberated along with the music of Vamp.  And when Utu was finally ready to look at Erzulie, their heart made a leap.

“Wow,” was the first, humanish word that fell out of his mouth, as he looked at her.  She was thriving.   She was gorgeous.  She was always gorgeous, but this was different because they were actually acknowledging each other.  Her dark hair perfectly done compared to Utu’s absently unruly curls.  Her skin reflected the lights and cut such striking soft angles that Utu randomly wondered if she’d tested the lights out on herself from every corner of the club, just to make sure she always stood in good light.

She was successful, and she didn’t need him or Pan to do it - just as she’d promised (or threatened) the day she left Attaboy.  And as Utu saw this for the first time he realized: he couldn’t be happier for her.

“Yes.  Yes, thank you!” Utu replied, suddenly enthused, relieved…something that actually felt good since Pan’s demise.   “I’d really like to talk to you, Erzulie.  Probably seems like I came at an inconvenient time but it’s all for a reason, I promise.”  He motioned for the go-ahead, and then followed Erzulie.  

“Hey - and I just wanted to say, even if you already know.  You look amazing.”

Erzulie wanted to be detached and rational around Utu, wanted to feel nothing and have an entirely unemotive conversation with them. But, but as she spoke their name she could see the puppy dog eyes widening, oh that warmth! He was too wonderful to be around, so lovely and cuddly- no, no. He'd broken her heart once and she was determined not to leave herself open to injury once more.

And then he had to say, 'wow' when he saw her, look at her as if she was a Hollywood star (and she had been!). Erzulie, prone to adulation, waved off Utu's compliments in a mock-bashful way. "Baseless flattery," she practically purred, all the while slowly turning around so that the sequins and beads of her dress caught the light just so, sending a command to the fibre optic fabric to shimmer from deep, sultry red to a tamer cream. She sent an order to the bar through her coms, it slipped up past the other orders and straight to the top. Two light and fruity cocktails of her own creation. Lime juice and grenadine, with gin and a smattering of Bees Knees.

Erzulie beckoned Utu to follow, slipping past a group of giggling dancers and then up to the mezzanine floor that overlooked the stage. Hebe was on the floor tonight, dancing and battering her eyelashes and looking just the doll. Erzulie barely paid her any attention and walked to her booth, closed off by a velvet rope that retracted into the wall as they neared. Once they were seated inside Erzulie tapped the table, and the noise outside faded to a quiet din. A measure she hoped to one day roll out to all the booths on the mezzanine floor, but for now she hoarded for her private booth, a place where she could retire to and talk over sensitive matters with her fellow divine. And the same soundproofing technology could put up holographic interference, so no one would see if Utu made her cry ugly tears again.

Now they were sat opposite one another, Erzulie was forced to look at Utu. They looked the same, perhaps a little more scruffy than when she left. Pan must have been a bad influence on him, she mused to herself, and then that pang of sadness struck her again. "Oh Utu," she sighed, sliding her hands palms up towards him on the table. "How are you doing?" she asked, wondering if they had always looked so tired, so weary. With Pan as a business partner, who wouldn't be, but this felt different. "What did you want to talk about?"

[erzulie-the-vamp]

Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?

Erzulie is ruled by her emotions, switching from loving to jealous in a single perceived slight. She acknowledges that it is not an ideal way to act, but she cannot change her nature. Others have to learn this is how she is and deal with it, she is less willing to change. She is a visionary in that she can see how things should be, and when properly motivated she can take action to make it happen, as evidenced by her success with Vamp.

[erzulie-the-vamp]

attaboyutu​:

Location: Vamp

@erzulie-the-vamp​

Now that Utu was standing here in front of Vamp, he felt a little embarrassed.

It had been a couple years since he’d seen Erzulie - actually seen her, and not just in passing where she pretended she didn’t see him and he tried to to acknowledge her.  Now Utu realized that his avoidance - his guilt - was all just childishness.  Utu could blame Pan for being such a juvenile, as Pan was habitually, chronically immature and maybe that rubbed off on Utu.  Particularly about Erzulie.

Well, Pan was gone and it was time to rectify old mistakes.  Among other reasons for Utu being here.  

Utu purposely arrived at the height of its primetime: a Saturday night.  They wanted to see Vamp in all its glitz and glory; they wanted to see what made Vamp successful as a nightclub, among other things.  Because the truth was, without Pan there to supply the speakeasy of Attaboy, it turned out Utu was…flailing.  Pan’s ideas and plans for Attaboy frustrated Utu but at least they were a solid execution.  Utu loved to hate the speakeasy, but he never realized that he also hated to love it.  Because it was there, it was successful, and it was a choice Pan made.

Now Pan was gone, and the choice was up to Utu.  And…Utu struggled.  No Erzulie calling the shots.  No Pan to run after with a broom and dustpan.  Just Utu, in charge of all of Attaboy.  It was daunting, and Utu was faced with a new reality:  he was painfully indecisive.

Or he was simply painfully slow.  This world moved so fast, pivoting on the head of a pin; and Pan’s murder was not exactly planned.  With everything happening so suddenly, Utu found himself alone, at a loss, buried in grief, and slow to recoup.  His recovery speed was not youthful or vibrant.  Utu was deliberate and purposeful, and that didn’t work well when the expectation was: “ok, Pan’s dead. Moving on.  Now.  What now, Utu?  What now?”

So there were many reasons Utu had, showing up at Vamp, feeling mightily underdressed in his linen button-up and pressed trousers that bore no designer labels.  Still, he powered through and entered the club.  Maybe he’d find Meg first; that would be nice.  He headed to the bar, but kept an eye out for Meg.  Or Erzulie.  Hopefully Meg.

Erzulie shouldn't complain about how busy business had been since Pan's death. Mortals flocked to Vamp, some needing a night of dancing and fun, others a steady drink and a listening ear. Saturday night and there was more of the former, they were practically overwhelming Vamp. Groups of mortals (with some nymphs and lesser deities bundled in amongst them) formed impromptu dance circles around gaps between tables. They needed a place for the young to let loose, so that Erzulie's more refined clientele could actually pay attention to the show on the stage.

Still, Erzulie managed to find time to console those souls who came to Vamp for a more somber escape. The sad, weighted mortals who perched at the bar, their sorrow visible about their shoulders. Erzulie gravitated towards one tonight, had been consoling her between slinging drinks for the thirsty crowd.

"She's not worth your tears, honey," Erzulie croned, gripping the young woman's hands tight in hers. "Yes, yes I know she said you were the one, but honey if she meant it she wouldn't have hooked up with your ex."

"But she said it was a mistake... what if it's a one-off, and... and she really is the one?" The young woman's rose-pink eyes were reddened with tears, streaking neon makeup trickling down her cheeks.

"I do not believe in the one, darling," Erzulie preached, wriggling her three wedding bands at the girl. That made her smile through her subsiding tears. "But, if I were, I would say the one would not willfully break your heart and then discount your heartbreak as if it were nothing." What Erzulie needed was Megaera, her dark little fury to swoop in and teach this girl's lover a lesson. Erzulie looked into the crowd for her, but she found a different face there instead.

It couldn't be. He wouldn't dare show his face around here, on a Saturday night, days after Pan's memorial, without asking for her explicit permission to grace her establishment. But, inexplicably, it was Utu. Utu in a linen button-down, awkward and charming with their dark beard and curly hair that Erzulie had dreamed of playing with. She hated them, she loved him. Her emotions bubbled to the surface, tempered by time, by the grief of Pan's absence.

"Honey," Erzulie said to the girl, offering her some tissues to make up her face. "There are plenty of young girls here tonight. Find someone new to talk to. Ask them about their life, and talk about yours and find goodness in them to fall in love with. Make new friends, even if you never see each other again and put your heartbreak behind you, just for one night." Erzulie patted her hands and kissed her cheek and left the bar, stalking straight towards Utu.

She wanted to walk up to him and slap him so hard he saw double, she wanted to kiss them senseless. She wanted to pull him into a hug and cry about Pan with him. She wanted... She didn't know what she wanted. Erzulie stood in front of Utu, crossing her arms tight across her chest.

"Utu," Erzulie said, the first thing she had said to him since their fight those years ago. "You finally came," she remarked, looking about Vamp, her baby, something easy to talk about. "Of course, you decide to come during the height of our busiest night, hm?" Pan had come, even though Erzulie had thrown him out of Vamp on almost every delightful occasion thanks to the satyr's love of chaos and mayhem. Now she would never have to worry about that again. Erzulie sighed, looking over Utu. She couldn't hate them, no matter how much she might like to.

"Would you like a drink? I have a booth, somewhere quiet where we could talk?" As big an olive branch one could hope for from Erzulie.