Being Human [Chey]

[Mitchell Monroe]

Mitchell swooped out of his how like a arrow being fired from a bow, He pulled on his sunglasses as he began his walk down the gritty alleyways. He had once known these streets to be cleaner and a lot less gritty instead of being filled with kids that set fire to things and destroyed the area. Mitchell had come from a poor house in Ireland but after his stint with one of the Vampire Elders, he'd managed to gain some lucrative money and afford himself better things in life but now he'd slipped into the humans way of life and he'd gotten himself a job at one of the local bars and he'd finally slipped under the elders radars.

Mitchell had arrived at the park and he noticed the sun was bright and warming and he was wrapped up in a jacket and wearing his signature sunglasses. After moving through the crowds of people lining up to get ice-cream he sat himself down on one of the benches in the shade and he saw a news paper that'd been left by a passerby.

He looked at the date and smiled weakly, June 22nd, it was his birthday for the best part he'd had one-hundred and sixteen of them and now it was his one-hundred and seventeen birthday and he decided he'd like actually celebrate some form of human tradition. Mitchell walked out from the park quickly and walked into one of the locale shops grabbing a birthday badge and some food to eat - He paid the shopkeeper and returned to the park bench.

He looked at the twenty-seven year old badge he'd just purchased and he pinned it to his jacket with a weak smiled as he opened up the bag and started to munch down on some of the sweet treats he'd bought himself. He had eaten half of his sandwich already and he watched as people had been playing in the park. It made him wonder what it was like to have a family of his own.. was that even possible now.. He'd never really thought about settling down nor had he found a person with enough charisma to even try and get close to him. Not many people head tried to be his friend, but he figured he was alright being polite to those that seemed slightly interested weather they actually cared about him or not. Mitchell opened one of his lemonade drinks and began to sip it cautiously thinking he was being observed but in actual fact it was nothing he'd just been rather jittery.. He'd lost track of many of the elders and most of his coven.. He needed to relax and figure out how he could really blend in with the human populace.. he thought of himself as one but that was not actually being human - It was pretending to be something he wasn't but at least he could be civil and friendly unlike his older self.

[Cheyenne Deniau]

Cheyenne was seated upon a bench, sketchbook upon her lap and knees bunched up so as to serve as a makeshift easel. Today’s ensemble was a pair of grey leggings, cream-colored blouse, floral pastel-colored skirt and leather loafers. She was also, once again, ditching her internship. It wasn’t as if she could get fired from her own family. They only disowned you if you pissed-off one of the inhumans, and Cheyenne had done nothing of the sort. Since the last visit to Mr. Di Caspari’s had been such a train wreck, Cheyenne had been rescheduled to shadow her relative once more. Rather than risk being violated by the vampire once again, Cheyenne opted to just ditch the occasion outright. After all, the light outside was perfect for sketching, and Cheyenne would refuse to miss out on it.

Her head was ducked low, gaze trained upon the sketchpad so that the brim of her sunhat cast her face into a shadow, hiding it from view. She was adding detail to the grass when someone else took a seat upon the bench, helping themselves to a small, one-person picnic. Cheyenne lifted her gaze a fraction, giving the man in front of her a brief glance. There was a twinge of recognition, but she didn’t know where she recognized the man from. It took Cheyenne a few moments longer to realize that she was staring-down the one thing she’d been trying to avoid this evening. A vampire. Shit/

Cheyenne ducked her head again, hiding behind the brim of her hat once more. At least he was one of the “younger” ones. Modern enough not to be one of those Elder-prudes… but what was his name? She wouldn’t be able to hide behind her hat forever. Her family was well-known enough that he’d at least kind-of recognize her. There was no way that he’d know that she was ditching her training, though. Finally, his name simmered to the surface of her mind, and it passed her lips before Cheyenne could even think to stop it.

“Mr. Monroe?” she inquired, hesitantly surveying the man from just under the brim of her hat.