Realistic or Modern — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥

[natasha.]

the hunter and the hunted

 

[manatee]

Blood lust was something that he would never be able to adjust to. It didn’t happen often, he’d been turned long enough to get himself under control, but when it did hell hath no fury. It didn’t happen with every single human he passed. That would have made living in a town impossible. No, he got to live a normal life and he got to go places and pretend to be a human being. But sometimes, he’d pass a woman on the sidewalk coming home from a friend’s house or he’d pass a man when he was taking his late night jog through the park and their scent would hit his nose and his skin would crawl with hunger and there wasn’t anything there to hold him back. He’d be going in for just a bite and that bite would turn into more and before he knew what was happening he’d be holding the dead body in his arms, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth onto the front of his clothes and theirs as well. At times like those Cohen would carry the body as inconspicuous as he could off into the woods and he’d have to compel a few people to forget that person even existed.

There were so many perks that came with what he was. He was fast, faster than any sort of animal he’d be chasing down in the woods so food was never far off. One of his friends was a witch, and once she had deemed him safe, she had fashioned him a bracelet that he wore every day just so he could walk in the sunlight. There was the compelling, one of the scariest and greatest things that had happened to him since he turned. All he had to do was look someone in the eyes and order them to do something – and they’d do it. It was how he hunted when he craved something more than the usual forest friend’s blood. He’d tell them they wouldn’t scream and that they wouldn’t remember him doing this to them, and he’d get to drink.

Over the years, there had been several decades of them, he had developed a fairly impeccable bout of self control. When he’d first turned he’d had to leave town, running until he didn’t recognize anything surrounding him. It seemed back then that all he had done was kill and kill and kill, and he hadn’t known who to turn to. Before he’d turned he’d been oblivious to just how many people like him had lived in the town he’d grown up in, the town he had deemed safe since he was a small boy. There were dozens of them in the small town, and as he ran he found more and more. He also found help, and people he could trust, and for a lot of years he wandered with a group, learning all of the secrets and the ways to survive in a town full of humans.

Of all the things that he enjoyed the most, he loved the no aging aspect. When he had been freshly twenty he’d been turned, and it was nice to be at that perfect age of just getting started in life. The bad thing about not aging was after several years in one spot – when it was finally starting to become a home – he had to pick up and leave. For a long time he never planned on going back to his original town, there would be no one left who even remembered him. Besides, he’d been around vampires long enough to know of the negative things too. They were seen as monsters, and certain towns, towns like his, held hunters that wouldn’t ever be able to be picked out from the crowd. There were hunters and other creatures who wanted him dead as well, and returning didn’t seem like the best option. So he wandered, making his way across the country and living and learning. He documented his experiences on his skin, the only thing that wouldn’t fade away or get lost. The ink stood out against the pale color of his skin, lacking flush from the lack of life, and by the time he had been twenty nearly fifty times, he’d covered both of his arms in the colorful designs. And by the time he’d been twenty nearly fifty times he decided that maybe it was time to go home.

​

All he could remember was that he was doing what his mother had specifically told him not to do.

He had an easy life. His mother laid out very few rules, and he very seldom followed them with little to no consequences. He was meant to be home before the next morning and that rarely happened. He was meant to keep a steady job since he was done with his schooling and that definitely never happened. It didn’t matter to him that his father was the mayor of the town and he had certain expectations to uphold. That thought alone made him want to rebel even more. Why should he have to work when his father sat around in his office all day drinking whiskey and smoking fat cigars and doing little else? He had a hard time wanting to uphold some sort of stigma that he was better than everyone else when he wasn’t. His mother sat around , clueless and unfazed while his father drank and drank and slept around with the maids. Just because the townspeople expected elegance and superiority from him didn’t mean that they were going to get it.

In fact, more often than not, he gave them the opposite. He could be seen late at night, ducking out of shady alleyway doors, stumbling slightly over the threshold and gripping onto the stone wall for a moment before he continued. It was how that night had gone, the night that literally and figuratively changed his life.

Gripping the wall, he was reminded that he had been here before, too many times, and he had always reminded himself never again. The lamps hanging on each corner of the alleyway had been dimmed, and he squinted in the dark, trying to feel his way along the wall. All he needed was to get back on the main street and he’d be able to guide himself home by moonlight and familiar shop signs. Slowing his steps down as his foot caught against the edge of someone’s trash, he gripped tighter onto the wall, muttering a curse under his breath. There was the sound of shuffling behind him, but when he looked over his shoulder nothing was there.

When he turned his head back around there was a girl standing in front of him. She’d been the one at the bar, the one he’d been shamelessly trying to make a move on. She’d ignored him, the satin of her gown brushing against his bare arm as she pushed past him. Before he even had a chance to speak she was turning his gaze on him, smiling and his breath caught in his throat as the moonlight glinted against her teeth. What was she? It didn’t take long before she was kissing him and it didn’t really matter what she was because he’d been wanting this all night. Her lips moved down against his neck and before he could make any sort of sound of approval, he felt her teeth sink into him and blood was spilled and as she sucked harder his knees grew weak and he slumped to the ground.

When he woke up one of his wrists was chained to a wall, and he was so thirsty. It felt like he hadn’t eaten his entire life, and as he pulled on the chain he realized that he wasn’t alone. The woman from last night was standing in front of him, looking pleasantly amused and before he could speak she was dragging in a body that he vaguely recognized as his father’s mistress into the room and then undoing the bracket against his wrist. It took all of two seconds before he was on the barely conscious woman, teeth sinking into her neck and drinking from her until he could hear her pulse shudder and stop.

Cohen Harraway hadn’t just been turned into a vampire, the woman had turned him into a cold blooded killer.

​

It had taken him an entire decade to stifle that side of himself. He had to remove himself from the town and his family forever, isolating himself from any sort of human contact until he learned how to resist the urges, how to stop constantly hearing the hearts and tasting the blood without sinking his teeth into necks. Even though he felt as if he were under control, there were still times that he would lose it. He couldn’t risk that, he couldn’t afford it. As much as Cohen had loved the wandering and seeing different places, he still couldn’t separate himself from human contact. And that meant he had to act correctly, not like a killer.

Sometimes he wondered if he ever really missed his home, or just having a place to call home. There was a fine line between the two, and since he had turned it he hadn’t been able to see a lot of the fine lines anymore. He felt alone though, and he needed some way to cure that. Sometimes the loneliness would get so much more intense than the hunger ever did. All he wanted was to find someone to spend time with that didn’t make him want to kill himself. It was ironic because he was already dead. The other vampires he’d met up with along the way were too much of a headache, and he couldn’t stomach being around them for too long. Cohen craved human interaction, and it was for something more than their blood.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever been turned into a vampire after all.

Maybe he missed being a human entirely too much.

​

As he stood on the curb, squinting up in the direction of the sun he observed one of the for rent signs hanging in the apartment window. They had renovated everything and it looked so completely different, but Cohen knew without a doubt that this was the spot that he had been turned. Well, the alleyway between the restaurant and the lofts he was staring up at were. And he felt it for the first time in a long while, that he was home. It took only about three seconds of hesitation and his hand on the doorknob before he opened the door and entered the building, putting on a smile and fiddling with the silver clasp of his bracelet.

It surprised him that it only took about thirty minutes for the elderly woman to set him up with a brand new set of keys to one of the lofts, and it surprised him even more that she took his first down payment in cash with no questions asked. He’d stuffed the key into his back pocket, not even bothering to go up and look at the room yet – it didn’t matter. He had a few belongings stowed away that he would unpack just to appease the woman at the desk, and then he’d go buy everything new. It was easier that way, he’d learned.

There wasn’t as much moving involved. Besides, things like that didn’t hold much meaning anymore. All the things that kept their meaning were on his body, crafted from ink, or tucked away into his small bank safe, yellowed and creased from the years and the countless bouts of folding.

Once he was back out on the sidewalk, he looked in the direction of the restaurant before pausing and turning the other way. He needed to explore, get a hold of what was the same and what was different. People that he passed on the street stopped and turned to look at him and for a moment Cohen wished that he had worn a jacket over his short sleeved shirt. Most people didn’t even give him or his tattoos a second glance, but he also hadn’t visited a town as small as this one in a long time. Apparently they didn’t have a tattoo shop right in the middle of town. Perhaps Cohen could find someone to fix that.

The thought made him smile, and his eyes lingered on everyone he passed, just to see how they reacted to him. Aside from the bit of shock from his arms, there was nothing. They didn’t have a clue. There was a huge part of him that wanted to go up to someone, look them in the eyes and compel them to tell him about vampires – just to see what they knew. But then there was an even larger part of him that reminded him of just how much he loved a game. And finding out about this town and what it still knew was a huge game to him.

Eyeing a bookstore he ducked his head as he ran a hand through his hair before opening the door as quietly as possible and walking in. There was a man behind the counter who looked to be about fifty, and Cohen smiled warmly at him as the man stuck out his hand. “A new face in town, how interesting. Been about ten years since that happened.” Cohen nodded his head as the man introduced himself as Mr. Nathenson.

“I’m Cohen. Cohen Harraway, apparently my family started here in this town and Harraway was a big name here. I decided to move back and just take some time to learn about them.” Liar. He was such a liar, and for a moment he wondered if the other man could tell that the smile on his lips was fake. Even though his gaze hadn’t moved around the shop he could hear another heart beat, a lighter one coming from a corner of the bookshop and Cohen knew that they weren’t the only two in the building.

“I’ve decided to sort of, find myself as most people say, a journey to look into my past. Get some sort of clues as to where I came from and what I truly am.”

He was a huge fucking liar, and the man in front of him was grinning broadly and slapping him on the shoulder, telling him to wait one moment while he got something that he thought Cohen might be interested in.

Perfect.

 

[natasha.]

"So where are you this week?"

Samantha did her best to juggle her phone between her shoulder while bending down to double check that her emergency pistol was secured inside her combat boots. "Some small town," she answered to the guy on the other end. "It's called Ashby. You've probably never heard of it because I haven't either."

Small towns were the best places for supernatural species to thrive though. They could lay low and never be found out. One vampire in particular, however, wasn't doing a very good job of laying low, which was what brought Sam here in the first place.

"You think you're going to take long?" Sam's 'adoptive' brother Joseph was in the middle of trying to convince her to abandon the job and stay with him for a few weeks. "Katie's due any time now and I think she'd love it if you could be there for the birth."

Sam smiled a little and stood up straight, only to lean against the hood of her car. The tattoo parlour she intended to visit stood just a few feet away, and she could make out the figure of someone inside. "I still can't believe I'm going to be an aunt," she chuckled softly. "I'm going to give your son his very first butterfly knife."

"Don't even joke about that," Joseph laughed on the other end. "Katie keeps trying to get me to baby proof the garage." And as Sam knew, the garage was where he kept his old hunting gear. Even if he wasn't in the game anymore, he didn't throw anything away, just in case his family were ever threatened by a vengeful werewolf or something or the other.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" She asked, figuring she had some time before she had to dive into the investigation. "Because, as I've said before—"

"Yes, I know. Sam is a perfectly good name. You've only said that a few hundred times." She could almost picture him smirking. "We haven't decided just yet. The sooner you get here, the more influence you'll have over Katie for the naming."

Samantha sighed. "Tempting offer," she admitted. "I don't think I can let this one go, though. I'm pretty sure it's a vampire."

There was a momentary silence on the other end. Joseph knew about Sam's vendetta against vampires. As much as she searched and hunted, she still hadn't tracked down the nest that killed her parents, and until she did that, every vampire was a threat.

"Stay safe, okay?" Joseph broke the silence. "And if you need backup, then call—"

"I'll be fine," Sam brushed off his concerns, not wanting him to offer to come to the rescue. He was about to have a kid. The last thing she wanted was to drag him away from that and put his life in danger. "Say hi to Katie for me, okay?"

After exchanging goodbyes, Sam hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket. She needed a few moments to gather her thoughts, but she eventually just sucked it up, tugged on the sleeves of her dad's old army jacket and pushed off of the hood of her car to head inside the tattoo parlour. The latest victim had been found just a mile away from this place, which meant that someone in here could give her some answers.

Hopefully.

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

​

Coming to town a year back had been hard for Cohen. It had been so weird seeing how everything had kind of all updated. Obviously he had expected that, it had been a century or so since he’d been here, but it was almost bittersweet. Coming back to your original hometown was not recommended, however, there was only so much that Cohen could take. There were so many questions he still needed answered, so many things that had been left unanswered, so many things left unsaid. What had happened to his family after he’d turned? Had they even missed him? Cohen knew he’d always been a thorn in their side, but how had it felt to lose their firstborn son? Had it felt like anything at all?

So he’d bent the rules, practically broken, and then he’d made his way back home.

He didn’t have long, a few years, but he just wanted answers. It was going to be hard, because his parents had died long ago, but a lot of the town had been completely helpful. He’d been given access to tons of books from Mr. Nathenson, and he’d even been down to the local museum to take several tours of his house. They’d turned it into a semblance of what it used to be, but he had to keep his mouth shut. There was no way a twenty year old could know exactly what it looked like when his parents were alive.

And so he’d settled in, picking one of the vacant buildings at the end of main street, nestled against the alleyway where his life had ended, and opened a tattoo shop. Obviously in a small town such as this there weren’t thousands of people coming to visit him, but he’d at least found his regulars. He’d also gotten his name out, and had clients coming from a few towns over to get his work done on their body. Tattooing was such a metaphor for him, placing something that symbolizes forever and endless on the bodies of the ones who were going to turn to dust. The ink was forever. Like him.

A slow morning, Cohen was sitting behind the counter, staring out the large glass window as a few shoppers made their way down the block. This area of the street harbored bad memories for him, but he pushed those thoughts aside as an unfamiliar car pulled up in the spaces outside of the street. Cohen waited for the chill to come, but it didn’t, and he visibly saw his hands relax against the dark countertop. One could never be too careful, especially in a town that was known for its strange happenings.

But then, as his luck would have it, a petite blonde stepped into view. His lucky day. A meal served to him on a platter.

Laughing out loud to himself on the joke, Cohen ignored the strange looks from his apprentice and nodded towards the door. “Look,” he motioned, pushing himself off of the stool and standing as she took her phone call outside. Now, Cohen hadn’t fed off of a live human in at least fifty years, he just meant that he had a thing for new people, especially blondes.

The knowing ring of the door opening didn’t phase Cohen, and he turned to look towards the newcomer.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wasn’t this going to be fun.

​

 

[natasha.]

There was the sound of a bell ringing as Sam entered the parlour. The same could be heard again when she let the door shut behind her.

Sam's bright blue gaze travelled around the shop. It was seemingly empty, except for two other people. It didn't look like anyone was getting a tattoo today because the familiar sound of buzzing couldn't be heard, but she was lucky they weren't closed. She hadn't thought to call in advance and see if they were even open today, or at this time. It was close to lunch which meant that with her luck, the people working there might be on a break, but fortunately they weren't.

Her gaze immediately travelled to the male with brown hair. He was attractive, and Sam's first instinct was to flirt. That was her first instinct most of the time though, if she was being completely honest, whether she came across a good looking guy or gal.

"Hi," Sam greeted him, putting on a charming smile as she walked over to the counter where he stood. Flirting was also a good way to get information out of people who preferred to remain tight lipped. She didn't know if that was the case here, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

"I just moved to town," Sam began to explain, "and almost everyone pointed me in this direction for a tattoo. They all say you're the best." Lying was pretty much as easy as breathing at this point. It's not like she could walk up to people and explain that she hunted supernatural creatures. Posing as a cop got her in trouble too many times before. It was best to remain an unsuspecting newbie who just seemed a little curious about the new town she moved into.

"I was hoping to get one," Sam further clarified the reason she was there that afternoon. Of course, Sam didn't actually have intentions of getting a tattoo, but she figured the initial visit would just be a discussion about it, and hopefully she'd get all the info she needed during one sitting, so it'd never have to come down to her getting permanent ink on her skin.

Sam didn't have anything against it, of course. She already had one on the back of her shoulder. She just wasn't so sure she wanted another.

As she stood there, she made a show of looking around briefly, making it seem as though she was concerned about something. When she turned back to face him, she gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, ever since moving here, all I've heard are various stories about the town." If any of them rang true, then he'd realise that she was talking about the supposed murder that took place not very far from here.

Her hope was that he may try to continue the topic on his own, or maybe mention something about it that she could ask questions about. She needed to be careful while gathering intel, but she couldn't afford to walk away with nothing. She needed to track this vampire down.

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

The lull of the lunchtime crowd had almost put Cohen to sleep. They’d ordered food from the grill a few stores down and Cohen had walked to pick it up. Even though food didn’t do much for him, he had to keep up with his appearance as a normal human. The food had settled heavily in his stomach, almost pushing him into some sort of comfort coma. It was very rare that Cohen was ever truly full. His hunger was only sedated from blood, and he couldn’t just go about drinking from whoever he pleased. Cohen had lived that life before, and it hadn’t ended well for anyone. If he thought about it too long the regret would overcome him like a darkness he couldn’t easily recover from. Spirals were never good for a vampire. Level headedness was key.

“Nice to meet you, Sam, I’m Cohen.” A flash of his award winning dimple smile was followed up by a brief handshake. Not too much contact, just enough to stay professional. Even though this building and this job weren’t helping him survive, he’d lived enough to have some sort of cushion built up, he still didn’t take light of owning a business. Besides, the more people who liked him and enjoyed being around him, the less lonely he was. It was a hard life, living on forever and watching the people you’d grown accustomed to die off. It was why Cohen had to keep moving, he could never settle. People would notice after a few years that he wasn’t aging. His one and only thanks was that he’d been turned when he was an age that could be blurred a bit.

Just the thought of his tattoo shop being recommended was something that Cohen was super proud of. Even though he had a lot, he didn’t, and he’d take just about anything to help fill up the many empty holes inside of him. “You’ve definitely come to the right place,” he answered, motioning for her to give him one second before he headed back to his work space. Grabbing his sketchbook, he hurried back out to meet Sam. “Here’s some of my work, if you’re not too interested in mine, then I have a few others who work here with a bit of a different style.”

As he waited on her to look through some of his previous works, Cohen studied the girl. There was not much that got away from Cohen. His eyes moved from her effortless blonde waves, down to her outfit and then back up to settle onto her face. It wasn’t a sight for sore eyes, that much was true. Resting his elbow on the counter across from her, he rested his head in his hand.

So she was new, but she’d heard some things about the town. This wasn’t a shocking fact. Cohen had heard all of the stories over greasy tables at the grill and in hushed whispers behind the further most shelves at the bookstore. Certain people were starting to have their suspicions, and Cohen himself had to admit that something was going on. It had been uninterestingly quiet from when he’d first come to town, but things had started happening again.

“People love to talk around here, that’s for sure. Some people though can take it a little out of hand. What all have you heard?”

Cohen had an idea of exactly what she’d heard. She’d heard that a body had been found tucked absently in the back of a dark alleyway near here. The body had been drained of almost all of his blood. It concerned Cohen. There was someone else out there just like him.

 

[natasha.]

Sam watched as the man — Cohen, he introduced himself as — quickly left the counter to grab something. She used the opportunity to get a better look at the place but it wasn't long before he came jogging back, sketchbook in hand. She took it from him with a smile and set it on the countertop, opening it up to take a look at his designs.

She had to admit that he was good at what he did. "These are all pretty amazing," she complimented him, looking away from his sketches only to briefly meet his gaze as she spoke to him. Sam herself had never been very good at most things artsy. She liked to think she was an amateur photographer, but it had never been in the cards for her to go to college and then get a job later in something she could specialise in.

She knew she could do that if she wanted to. Settling down wasn't out of the picture entirely for a hunter. Henry and Joseph were perfect examples of that. Henry hung up his gun a long time ago and blissfully enjoyed retirement. Joseph had settled down, gotten married, and he now had a kid on the way, and he was only two years older than Sam was. As much as she saw it in her future eventually, it just couldn't happen now. Not when she had something she needed to fulfil.

Granted, that thing was a little vengeful, but it had been a driving force for her ever since she became a teenager, and while the anger had slowly dissipated over the years, it was something she couldn't entirely let go of. She needed better closure, and that would only come if she continued hunting.

Sam didn't get the chance to discuss more about the tattoo since, at that point, she brought up the stories in town. Fortunately for her, Cohen took the bait. She tried not to feel too optimistic though. Just because he may know what she was talking about, didn't mean he could give her all the information she needed. She had to play this well, or she'd walk out of there with as much information as she had when she came in.

"I don't doubt that," Sam said with a small chuckle when he mentioned that people around town could talk. "I've only ever lived in small towns and news travels fast, for one. People just love drama, don't they?" In this case, it wasn't simple drama, but it was just a little bit to throw him off her scent, if he ever began to grow suspicious with her line of questioning. So far though, she seemed to be doing an okay job. That's what she told herself, anyway.

"A couple of things, actually," Sam recalled conversations with other locals before she came to the tattoo parlour. "Someone said the third floor of the library is haunted?" She chuckled, as if this was a ridiculous idea. In all honesty, that may well be true too, but it wasn't nearly as much of a threat as a vampire draining blood from unsuspecting locals. "And also that there were a few... murders?" As she said the last word, she leaned in and whispered it, as if she wasn't sure if it was true or not.

It was easy to play the part of the curious newbie. Of course, he might question her timing, given that she showed up right after a few murders, but she was playing her part, which was hopefully believable.

"I don't even know what to believe anymore," she waved it off and leaned back to stand straight, as she had been standing mere moments ago. "Do you know anything about it?" Maybe it was a little risky to go right in and ask, but Sam was genuinely so curious that it fit in to the kind of person she was pretending to be.

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

To say the questions weren’t a red flag would have been a lie, because well, Cohen was used to paying extra attention to different things. There was always some concern when someone started asking questions. Though to be honest, Cohen always lived in a state of slight paranoia. It was far better to be safe as opposed to sorry. His eyebrows raised as she mentioned the ghost in the library, something he hadn’t heard yet. They raised even higher when she mentioned the murders. Surely she hadn’t even been in town that long, and yet she already knew about all of that. This wasn’t a good sign.

When she’d leaned in further, it had brought the scent of her closer to him and Cohen grabbed the countertop, trying his hardest to stay unphased. No matter how much time passed, the first scent still had a certain effect on him. Cohen imagined it always would. “I have heard a thing or two about that,” he whispered back, forcing a smile onto his face. It was odd, a new person coming to town and having all kinds of questions. But maybe it was normal. Maybe she was genuinely concerned. Maybe she was out looking to see if she’d made the right decision in coming to town.

Cohen glanced over his shoulder at the guy behind him, winking before he returned to making eye contact with Sam. “I’d love to tell you more about that over dinner,” he offered, his gaze never leaving hers. Why not take a chance? Cohen was fairly skilled at asking people out to dinner. He rarely had people turn him down. At least he could be thankful that he hadn’t lost any of his looks when he’d turned. That would have been devastating.

He was moving around from behind the counter now, moving so he could be at least a little bit closer to Sam. “I mean, you probably need someone to show you around town and tell you all the ins and outs of small town living.” His hands slid easily into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked back on his jeans slightly, still holding her gaze steady with his. Someone new brought something fun to town, something to do, someone to get to know, but he also had to be careful. She might be sticking around far longer than he planned on doing, and he had to be careful. It was all fun and games to spend time with someone, but relationships got tricky. There wasn’t really room for them in his eternal life.

“I’m prepared to make that sacrifice to help you learn the ropes around here.”

Cohen’s laugh came easily, and he made the dimples appear before he pulled out his phone from his pocket and offered it out to her. He’d just gotten an upgrade from a flip phone, this one was all glass, and he still barely could figure out how to work it. “If you want to put your number in, I can let you know when I’m off work.” It typically worked like a charm, every single time. ​

 

[natasha.]

Ideally, Sam would have liked to finish this job as soon as possible. The quicker she got a murderous vampire out of the picture, the better. Sometimes things didn't go as planned, and sometimes she'd need to wait for backup or the right time to strike. In this particular scenario though, her information was a little delayed because her most important source was apparently more interested in asking her out.

Sam was initially quite alert and hopeful when Cohen revealed that he knew something about what she was talking about. She did her best not to show this though, because that would come across as either weird or suspicious. When Cohen further explained that they could talk about it over dinner, Sam was pleasantly surprised.

The shock was probably evident in her expression, but she quickly recovered to be able to give him a reply. "Dinner?" She echoed, arching an eyebrow. Of course, Sam didn't mind this proposition at all. She was no stranger to flirting, and it was even better when it was reciprocated. Cohen clearly wasted no time beating around the bush, and Sam liked that. She never had time for anything committed but who said that's what this needed to be? It was just dinner. Maybe something after. Either way, a guaranteed night of amusement.

Her eyes followed him as he walked around the counter to get closer and she rested one arm on the countertop, leaning against it and giving him a once over. Okay, so she was checking him out. At least she was doing it with some class though. Which basically meant doing it as subtly as she could without getting caught.

"Oh, do I?" Sam gave Cohen a coy smile as he continued speaking, suggesting she take up his oh-so-generous offer to be her tour guide. "Well if you're willing to make the sacrifice, then how can I refuse?" She tilted her head to the side a bit and looked up at him. He practically towered over her, but then again, most people did. Sam barely reached the average height for a woman of her age.

As he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, Sam knew where this was going. She happily took it as he held the device out to her, and she quickly put her number in. It took her a moment to remember — she almost exclusively used burner phones or pay phones, keeping Henry and Joseph in the loop each time she got a new one, or moved to a new town for a job. Remembering the new numbers was a hard task, but after having done it several times over the years, it became a prominent part of her skill set. A weird, but useful ability.

Sam punched her number in and saved it with her name before handing the phone back to him. "I'm going to be busy unpacking boxes in my apartment for most of the day so don't hesitate to free me from my misery whenever you get off work," she told him. "And we can probably discuss more about the tattoo then, unless you want to leave that out as an excuse for me to come back here tomorrow." Two could definitely play the flirting game.

Sam had to remind herself that she was here for a job though. Flirting and having fun was all well and good, but she couldn't take her eye off the ball for too long, and Cohen, while being someone she wanted to get to know more, was also a pretty important piece of the puzzle that would lead her to the vampire she was hunting.

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

If he turned around and looked at the man who was working with him, Cohen knew he’d be giving him a dumbfounded look. It probably was a bit ridiculous that he literally said some of the most cheesy things and still managed to get results. In some cases it was his height. In some, it was the tattoos. In most of them, it was the dimples. Cohen found it was very easy to get women to be interested, all he had to do was flash a smile. The phone trick had worked, and before he knew it he was slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Not only had he secured her number, but he’d also managed to set up a date for later tonight. The thought made him chuckle quietly, and he shook his head slightly as she spoke. Oh, she’d definitely be hearing from him later on today. The thing was, this was at least some fun - for both of them hopefully. Cohen was in no position to offer a solid relationship, but he could offer a good time, which was typically all anyone wanted these days. He’d let her know at dinner, a roundabout way for him to let her know that he was someone to call for a good time, but not a long time.

“Oh I can promise you’ll have plenty of reason to want to come back tomorrow.”

God, there was really no end to him, no control. Cohen truly understood that Sam probably thought he was ridiculous, but that was just a part of it. At least she hadn’t ran away when he’d gotten her number. That had been the first good sign. Cohen also didn’t have much to lose, if she bailed he wouldn’t have anything but a bit of a wounded ego. He’d eventually recover. Watching her leave the shop, Cohen leaned back against the counter, eyes never leaving her as she walked past their front window and back to her car. Things had at least gotten a little more interesting.

The rest of his day went by slow.They’d had a handful of scheduled appointments, but nothing major, and before long, Cohen found himself reaching for his phone. There was no point in playing the waiting game, there wasn’t much that he was not trying to get from this except for a little entertainment, a little companionship.

Hey, it’s Cohen. How do you feel about greasy burgers, dim lighting, and gorgeous company? ​

Once the message was sent, he went about closing up the shop, making sure to lock things up carefully. The recent murders were a bit of cause for concern, but Cohen was pretty sure he had a decent idea of what was causing them. He hadn’t been able to hear much info yet, but it would eventually come out. The fact they hadn’t found a murder weapon at the scene of the crime told him pretty much everything he needed to know. The murderer carried the weapon with him. Cohen was almost absolutely sure that he was carrying around the same kind.

 

[natasha.]

Nothing was better than flirting with a guy who was clearly good at flirting back. Sam was pleasantly surprised by Cohen's response and she returned it with a smirk. "Alright then," she nodded, giving him a smile and pulling away from the counter to take her leave. "Guess I'll see you later."

Once she waved goodbye, she left the shop and walked to her car, unlocking it and then sliding into the driver's seat. She didn't roll out of her parking space immediately. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and keep in mind what she was doing in this town. It wasn't for fun or leisure but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself while she was there, of course.

After a few moments, Sam drove off, heading to her apartment.

Now, it wasn't anything fancy in the slightest. Acquiring funds was hard when you were constantly on the move, but when hunts took long, Sam settled in to appear like a local. She'd already applied and gotten a job as a bartender, and she started work tomorrow. She was currently just renting out a deluxe motel room that had all the amenities she'd need for a week — she didn't see herself staying in Ashby for any longer than that. Hunts never usually took that long, and if they did, then it usually meant something bigger. Sam wasn't getting that kind of vibe from this, but time would tell.

Contrary to what Sam had told Cohen, she didn't have much to unpack, because whatever belongings she had as a child were all left at her uncle Henry's place where he'd kept her room locked up for her to use whenever she stopped by. All Sam carried around were some spare clothes, hunting gear, her laptop, her camera and her journal. Everything else that was needed for immediate use like toiletries, she made sure to stock up from the local grocery store.

Sam was doing a little more research on the town and any prior supernatural activity that may be reported when she got the text from Cohen. While he had taken her number, she hadn't taken his, so the number wasn't recognised. Regardless, as soon as she read it, she knew who it was from.

A smile lit up Sam's face and she took a moment to save his number to her contacts before typing up a reply:

Sounds like a date. Let me know when and where and I'll be there.
​

Since it was dark out, Sam shut her laptop and went about getting ready to meet Cohen. She took a quick shower and changed her clothes before returning to her bed to check her phone for messages. Hopefully, along with a little fun, she'd be able to get some important information from Cohen tonight.

And if not... well, there was always tomorrow.

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

She’d responded quickly, which was always a good sign. He wondered absently if he should have suggested somewhere a little nicer, but then quickly changed his mind. This wasn’t like an important date. This was just two equally attractive people hanging out, spending some time together. Honestly it was probably his job to let her know the ins and outs of the town. He could tell her all of the good places and the places to avoid. Really he was just doing his civil duty.

Before you get to the shop, there’s a great place that has burgers. Right across the street from the bar. I’ll meet you there at 7. ​

After locking up the shop, Cohen had headed home to change. He’d showered, pulled on a fitted black t-shirt, and then busied himself by looking through some of the old journals and things he’d found during his time here. Technically they might have been stolen, but that was beside the point. He’d just needed them to figure out what exactly had happened to his family. Even though he’d looked through what he had thousands of times, he still continued to look over them. Maybe something important would eventually pop out.

Once it grew closer to time to meet her, Cohen placed all the books on his shelves, hidden behind his actual books, before grabbing his keys and heading out of his home. He was renting a quaint little bungalow a few blocks over from the square. It was close enough to the center of everything if he needed to be there in case of an emergency, and yet it was far enough away that people weren’t constantly in his business. It was nice out, and he really didn’t need to take his car, but why not just to add a little bit of flash to his already good looks and charm? Cohen had originally bought the car in the 1970s, and had kept it up until now. It had required a lot of work - and a lot of money. Women did like it though, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

When he pulled up to the main street, it took him a bit to find a place to park. Once he’d finally managed to grab a space, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to text her.

I’m here, I’ll be waiting outside for you. ​

Shutting the door to his car and locking it behind him, Cohen shoved his keys and his phone back in his pocket and headed down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. The whole vampire thing, it was weird. Sometimes it felt like Cohen genuinely craved food. He hadn’t decided if it was his stomach craving the food, or just his mindset, craving for something, anything to make him seem like a human. Looking up, his eyes landed on Sam, and he couldn’t help but grin. She looked good, really good. There were so many questions he had for her, so many things he wanted to know. Why would someone like her want to come to a town like this?

Maybe tonight would be his lucky night to find out all about her.

 

[natasha.]

Sam got a text back from Cohen pretty soon, which she looked at as a good sign. She quickly typed a response up once she checked the time on her phone:

sounds good. see you there. (:​

She still had some time to kill, so she returned to her journal and flipped through the pages some more, for any kind of clue. The book was her dad's and he kept a record of all the supernatural encounters he'd ever had as a hunter. She wondered if he'd been to this town before, and if this was just history repeating itself, but she hadn't found any info on it so far. Despite having had the journal for years, Sam never finished reading the whole thing. Plus, there were a lot of entries.

Eventually, it was time to leave, so she stowed her journal away in her suitcase, grabbed her phone, and headed out. The town was small so it was possible to walk anywhere. She'd only taken the car out earlier because she kept her weapons in the trunk and if she got any proper leads, then she didn't want to waste any more time in the town than was needed.

She hadn't gotten any leads, but perhaps that would change over dinner. If she didn't get too distracted, that is.

Sam got Cohen's next text as she walked toward the place he mentioned. Since it wasn't a very big place, she didn't get lost or anything on her way. She'd always been pretty good with directions anyway, and soon enough, she recognised the familiar road she'd been on, earlier that day when she came to the tattoo parlour.

Instead of replying, Sam just picked up the pace, eventually recognising his form standing outside the restaurant. A smile lit up her face and she walked up to him. "Hey," she called out as she drew closer. She gave him a small wave as well and eventually came to a stop just a foot away. Nodding to the restaurant, she grinned a little wider. "Shall we?"

samantha o'connor

 

[manatee]

​

Cohen couldn’t help but smile as Sam approached, and he ducked his head down for a moment before looking back up to her. “Hey,” he answered, flashing her his dimples before nodding his head. Reaching out, Cohen opened the door for her and motioned for her to enter - a habit that had been drilled in his head for a very, very long time. Even if he had been one to never follow the rules his parents had set for him and to always buck the system, Cohen was still a firm believer in the manners he had come to know and to love.

Following Sam into the restaurant, Cohen continued on as they were ushered to a booth nestled in the corner of the restaurant. The lighting was low, and Cohen glanced around for a moment to take in the people around them. Just a habit he’d picked up, always looking out to make sure if anyone looked suspicious. He didn’t think he would get attacked in the middle of a restaurant, but honestly, you never knew. He didn’t plan on taking any chances. Sliding into the booth across from the woman, he picked up his menu, glancing at it for a moment before looking back to her.

“What made you decide to come here?”

The question might have been bold, but Cohen figured with his shameless flirting in the tattoo parlor, that his questions probably wouldn’t come as much of a shock to Sam. The waitress returned, looking at them to order drinks and Cohen looked to Sam for her to order first. Once she’d gotten out her order, he ordered whatever was on draft tonight, and then he glanced back down at the menu. It wasn’t like food filled him and sedated his hunger, but it was nice sometimes. It was nice to feel normal and feel as if he were normal for once. Those rare moments hardly came.

As Sam studied the menu, Cohen took time to study her. She was very pretty, but there was something different about her than a lot of the other girls in this town. There was something refreshing, something real and honest about her Cohen liked. She wasn’t putting on an act for him, wasn’t pretending to be someone else. And when she made eye contact with him, she couldn’t help but smile.