#jude devine

[jude-devine]

Night Out | Jade x Jude

ofmonstersandmasquerades:

The club was quieter than it usually was. Probably because it was a weekday, and not everyone could set their own hours the way she could. Poor people with their desks jobs—it must get so boring. She couldn’t fathom it. They didn’t even pay well, and how boring must it be to do that day in and day out. She’d dabbled in those sorts of jobs over the years, but never for more than a month or two when she needed to make a cover more concrete. Which made it more akin to a game, because she’d be immersing herself fully in some new character or another. But having that be life? The thought was horrifying. 

Almost as horrifying as the fact that this man at the bar seemed to actually think that his pick up line would give him a chance with her. Which it did, almost, but not nearly in the way he wanted it to. She put on the bright, bubbly grin, acted far drunker than she was, and let him start buying her drinks. She laughed, leaned in closer, let her hand linger on his waist, and felt a flash of triumph as she confirmed exactly where his wallet was. 

It only took a little longer to subtly suggest a trip to the dance floor, and then five minutes after that to slip his wallet out of his pocket and into her purse. After a few more minutes, she added his watch for good measure after a particularly painful attempt at a transition to his car—an added tax because really, he was boring her to the point that she had to entertain herself somehow. She steered him towards another group on the dance floor, letting them close in around him, and sauntered right back to the bar, nodding to the bartender for another mai tai. A glance back confirmed that he’d already started whispering in some redhead’s ear, so clearly he wasn’t going to notice any time soon. 

Nightclubs weren’t Jude’s usual scene but sometimes there was good reason to endure the bad remixes, worse propositions, and watered down alcohol. Being new to the city, he was eager to make new acquaintances, and places like this attracted a certain kind of person. The typical clientele didn’t appeal to him, but apart from the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor and the barflies was a third, more interesting party that occasionally surfaced. He couldn’t say for sure who they were or what they would look like - only that they were a bit like himself in the sense that they’d come here for a reason, and that reason wasn’t just to unwind and have a good time.

Unfortunately, he’d only know what he was looking for when he actually saw it. In the meantime he resigned himself to sipping a whiskey with ice though he’d ordered it neat, keeping tabs on a number of situations unfolding around him. In the back booth, where the lighting was too low for human eyes to see, an inebriated couple was exploring just how far denim could be made to stretch. A young woman in a hot pink ‘bridesmaid’ sash that had apparently gotten separated from the rest of the bachelorette party was in tears on the phone near the bathrooms, and just down the counter a man was throwing away money on overpriced drinks, attempting to woo a blonde that was unspeakably out of his league.

Cerebral it was not, but like all other dramas it contained some intangible quality that made it amusing. Temporarily, at least. All told, Jude’s interest was waning. This club was his third stop of the evening, and having still not found what he was searching for, he prepared to call it a night. He asked to close his tab before the ice in his glass could completely melt, and was waiting for the bartender to return with his card when the blonde from before came strutting back to the bar. Jude idly glanced over with the expectation he’d soon look away, yet something about her was different. His eyes narrowed slightly, and ultimately it was too striking a transformation to ignore.

He was positive it was the same girl that had been drunkenly giggling up a storm ten minutes before, but suddenly her expression was sharp and sober. Following her line of sight back to the dance floor, Jude started to put the pieces together. “... finally gave him the slip, huh?” he asked with both a shake of his head and a smile, not reacting when her companion from earlier announced, rather loudly, that his wallet was missing. Jude said no more as the bartender waited for him to sign his bill, scribbling the initials JD on the dashed line above ‘Daniel Devine V’ and  dropping the pen into the plastic tray. Nudging it back across the counter, he picked up his nearly empty glass, remarking, “Guess we’re both headed out soon.” 

@ofmonstersandmasquerades

[jude-devine]

Fireworks | Jude & Cammie

From his high-rise apartment in the CBD, Jude could see the river. In the grand scheme of things the view wasn’t why he picked this particular unit (the fact that it was already furnished, for instance, had been a much bigger draw), but the balcony did make a good observation deck. Over the lower rooftops of the French Quarter, he'd spotted the barge that fireworks were being launched from. He could feel their reverberating booms in his chest, smell the gunpowder, and see bright colors bursting in the sky. It was an impressive spectacle. 

The only problem was, Jude didn’t particularly care for fireworks.

Though his eyes saw a celebration, his mind saw a battlefield. Each pop was the firing of rifles, each explosion the roar of cannon fire. The whistling of mortars was a bullet narrowly missing his head. His heartbeat quickened with the vivid memory of being so close to danger - too close, the once. He remembered the searing pain that tore through his abdomen, stumbling away in delirium, his whole world going black. He blinked and saw breeches matted in blood, a pair of polished boots. He blinked again and saw the cigarette burned to a nub between white knuckles. Exhaling a ragged breath, he released the chrome railing, snuffed out the cigarette and turned around to go inside.

The blast of cold air sent a shiver down his spine, drawing his attention to the sheen of sweat on his skin. Once noted, however, he promptly set to ignoring it. Picking up the glass he’d left on an end table, he downed its remaining contents in one swallow, then left it on the kitchen counter as he passed by. He pulled a sweatshirt from the coat closet, slipped his feet into some unlaced trainers and headed out the door, not bothering to prevent it from slamming behind him. Down on the street, he didn’t fully realize where he was going till he was already halfway there - but he always hit the gym at strange hours, and the night of July 4th, when most were out celebrating, certainly fit that criteria.

On a holiday, the place was as empty at 10 as it usually was around 2 or 3 in the morning, which suited him just fine. He needed to unwind and over the years exercise had become one of his many crutches. Granted, vices were a strange thing to a thrall. Nothing he did to himself could ever hold a candle to what had been done to him, and so he hardly noticed the way his limbs trembled when he absently ran a half-marathon or deliberately overloaded a barbell. Tonight, though, he started at a shoulder press machine. With headphones blasting in his ears, he set the equipment as he usually did, pushed the handles forward - and felt a violent lurch. The weights had shot up only to noisily slam back down, and Jude froze a moment before slowly looking over.

He’d placed the pin in its usual position. True, it was one of the first times he’d visited this particular gym, but exercise machines were fairly universal. His eyes swept over the markings on each bar to confirm what he already knew before he once more tested the weight. Too light. He could’ve racked the machine all over again, but he controlled his movements, letting the cables do their job before leaning forward to move the pin to the very bottom bar. Finally, there was some noticeable resistance, but it was still far easier than it had any right to be… Through a few slow reps, his expression betrayed his wonder - at least until he realized he was no longer alone.

Abruptly, Jude decided he was finished with that particular workout. He let the machine reset itself and sat forward to pull his headphones from his ears, jaw tensing. He didn’t know when the woman had arrived, and so he could only guess how much she’d seen. Staring over his shoulder, he first tried to ascertain whether she’d even noticed him, then looked away when it felt like he was being too obvious. Well. Fuck.

@cammiesinger

[jude-devine]

Heavy Lifting | Amelia & Jude

Jude, objectively speaking, was a talented individual. His unnaturally long life had allowed him the time to develop an impressive laundry list of skills that were of use in both the supernatural and mundane worlds, but sometimes his most appealing features were the things completely beyond his control. Sometimes, all his knowledge and all his experience took a backseat to the fact that he was a six-foot-three man with a strong back, and new as he was to Rayne’s organization he could hardly complain that the woman had put him to work on moving day.

It was two days after meeting the notorious Ms. Travers in her Chicago penthouse office - two nights, to be more exact, and he’d thus far spent very little time in his new employer’s company. Of course, Rayne had gotten by just fine without him up to this point. She certainly didn’t require his assistance now, but it was nevertheless it was a bit strange to a thrall so accustomed to coordinating every little detail to sit back and wait to be summoned. He’d already recovered from his worst hangover in decades, and was truthfully glad to finally hear his phone ring.

His mission for the evening was a humble one, it would seem, and ought to be well within his capabilities. Ms. Amelia Blake, the young vampiress he’d briefly met the evening prior, was packing up her office at the library and could use help with all the boxes. Jude arrived dressed for the task at hand, his attire pared down quite a bit from the night prior. In place of the suit and tie was a dark blue button-up with rolled up sleeves, off-black chinos, and a trusty pair of brown ankle-height boots. His Audi was parked in the lot outside, its trunk empty and available if needed.

The library would be closing soon, but Jude didn’t assume that would be an issue given the circumstances. The elderly librarian he spoke to already knew of Amelia’s pending departure, and helpfully directed him to her desk, which he found buried beneath books, files, and personal effects. Tilting his head, he endeavored to peer around the (wo)manmade mountain, looking for the small vampiress he’d met before. “Ms. Blake?” he announced himself, curiously, “Rayne sent me to help... you...” He sincerely hoped she’d called ahead.

@msameliablake

[jude-devine]

Prelude | Rayne & Jude

Jude plucked a loose thread from the cuff of his jacket, then checked the watch on his wrist. The golden face of the exquisite timepiece caught the light, and for a moment - just a moment - he failed to parse what the gleaming hands were trying to tell him. While usually not one given to sentiment, he found himself reminiscing. The watch had belonged to his former employer (as Jude preferred to think of him). As for why a vampire of all creatures had professed to need such a precise instrument to measure the passing of time, Jude could only speculate. It suited Alexander’s insatiable appetite for luxury, he supposed, but in all the years that he’d owned the watch, Jude had never actually asked him about it, and it was quite a bit too late now.

Speaking of late, it was nearing two in the morning. An unusual hour, no doubt, to be waiting in a lobby no matter how grandiose, but Jude was very much accustomed to… unorthodox… business hours. He saw 2 AM more often than he saw 2 PM, and he was fortunate to have been granted an audience at all. With that in mind, he’d dressed in his best suit and arrived a full fifteen minutes ahead of his appointment, only to sit in silence with a likewise polished receptionist guarding a closed office door. Jude could feel the weight of that apparently young man’s stare, knowing intrinsically that his every breath and beat of his heart were being scrutinized. Yet he still couldn’t combat the slight spike in blood pressure that accompanied the crackle of a voice across the intercom and the words Rayne will see you now.

Drawing a breath, Jude put a tight smile on his face and stood from his chair, buttoning the top button of his jacket as he approached the desk. “Thank you,” he said simply to the receptionist as he passed, who met his polite gratitude with a lopsided grin and the unsettlingly cheery response, “Yeah. Good luck.” The thrall couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at that, pausing momentarily with his fingers wrapped around the ornate door handle. Glancing over his shoulder, he locked eyes with the young man, only to look away when the vampire laughed. 

Without another word, Jude pulled open the door and ushered himself into an office that had an immediate and drastically different aesthetic than the lobby before it. Rather that dazzling crystal chandeliers and framed fine artwork, the penthouse was dimly lit, illuminated almost exclusively by a panorama of city lights that truthfully required no further embellishment. It was several times the size of the already impressive reception area with enormous floor to ceiling windows, and Jude found himself gazing across the whole city of Chicago, his echoing footsteps propelling him forward at idling speed till his eyes caught sight of a blonde woman at her desk. 

Remembering his manners (and his sense of urgency, which was never far from his mind, these days), he approached her with purpose, “Ms. Travers. Thank you for seeing me.” He was then quick to dispense with the pleasantries, openly acknowledging, “I fully realize it’s not your usual protocol.”

@icequeen-rayne