Apparent Age: ~30
6'1", 190; lean and fit.Personality:
Brown hair, impeccably styled.
Light brown, "hypnotic" eyes.
Charismatic, confident; a "lady killer", figuratively and at times literally.Public Appearance:
Contemplates what he wants to say before he says it; never speaks off the cuff.
"Engage brain, then mouth" is his philosophy.
Always dressed in the best, regardless of setting.
Expensive watch, expensive ring, expensive frickin' sox and boxers for that matter.
The club was hopping. Hopping... that was the word Vincent grew up with. He wasn't even sure what The Kids were using these days. Hip, In, With It, Kickin', Bangin', Jumpin' ... Who knew and who cared?
Vincent wasn't here to dance or get drunk or find a play thing to take home to his bed, although he could work that into the reason why he was here. Vincent was here to feed.
It had been ... what, sixteen, seventeen days...? He was famished. He didn't typically go more than two weeks without a meal. He used the activity and confusion of the clubs and the booze and the writhing bodies on the dance floors each weekend as cover for his activities. Nobody noticed some guy picking up on some girl and leaving a club, arm in arm.
He'd been eying four or five beauties who had either entered the club alone or had arrived with someone who had already hooked up and left. He checked his watch: 3am, almost closing. It was time to make a choice or end another night hungry.
And then, there she was. Vincent looked left at the flash of color, and found a beautiful creature standing alone, swaying to the music. He studied her for a moment: although he could see that she appeared to be alone, it was his Sense of her flying solo that convinced him he'd found dinner.
He was standing as she turned to face him. He pulled a chair out from his Private table and politely gestured her into it. "Would you like to join me for a glass of champagne?"
He smile broadly and turned on The Charm. It was the male equivalent to a woman bathing in sexual pheromones. Unless a woman didn't like men or was already totally into another man, The Charm never failed. In fact, there were times when Vincent had claimed lesbians and taken women, too, if he turned on The Charm to its fullest.
But, that was exhausting, and the gain of feeding was barely enough to replenish the energy he'd used, so ... why bother? It reminded him of those nature programs about Pandas. The big guys' digestive systems were so inefficient and their favorite food -- bamboo -- was so low in nutritional content that the not-bear used almost almost as much energy eating as he got from eating!
Vincent had been that way when he was a new vampire: inefficient. And ineffective. He'd almost perished a dozen times before he learned how to feed. Now, after so many decades, he was a pro at making the best of another person's blood.
Vincent would eat tonight, he knew, smiling to the woman as she eyed him. The only question was whether he could contain himself and let her live or whether he would have to make a visit to his associate's mortuary tomorrow with the lovely woman stuffed into a travel bag.