Drinking Virgin[OPEN]

[Cassandra Dane]

Success! The fulfilling feeling you get when accomplishing your goal was one of Caz’s favourite feelings. The moment you realise that all the searching wasn’t in vain. The sudden serge on excitement from the core of your body running all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes! Caz had at last found a piece of paper with her Fathers name. It wasn’t much. No more then a small newspaper clipping. It had at first confused her. She remembers her mother saying that her father had died in a car crash but the newspaper had said differently. What on earth did they mean by ‘Animal Attack’? Surely there wasn’t bears here?

When it came to that kind of thing Caz had no idea. Back in England there’s no Bears or Wolfs or anything like that. Not from Oxford anyway. So the idea that there was wild animals here that could kill you was somewhat surreal to Caz.

With this one tiny piece of information she decided to call it quits for the day. She may have not found out a huge amount of information but this was the first thing she had found since she had got here. She still hadn’t made the trip to the grave yard to check the grave stones. That was a little much for her right now. It would make it too real. To see the place where his body is. Where his body lays. No, she couldn’t even think about it with out shivering a bit.

She got up from her little table, leaving the papers all over it for now. She would return later so why clean up? It wasn’t until she took a peak out the window that she even realised that it was getting dark outside! She had wasted a lovely day inside her dusty motel room. She really had to sort out a room at a B&B or something soon.

Considering the time she decided to make this a night trip. She hadn’t left her room at the motel during the night, even though her jet lag had been keeping her up. Speaking of which was getting more on track now. She now felt more in line with the time zone here.

She moved over to her suitcase. She hadn’t emptied it yet because if she was planning to move out the motel room and into a B&B or boarding house then what was the point? At the moment it just looked like the clothes had exploded out. She dug in and picked out some clothes and shoes. She wasn’t one for night life. She didn’t very often go out to bars or clubs. Not that she didn’t like it, it was more it never got put into motion so she never went?

But tonight she felt like celebrating the tiny bit of information. That and she really had to meet more people if she was planning on making this place a full-time home.

She pulled on one of the only dresses she owned and smoothed it down her body as she stood in front of the mirror. It was a dark wine colour and had 3 ¼ length sleeves that ended just after her elbows. Under this she wore thick black and grey striped leggings to keep her legs warm. She wasn’t sure if it would be cold out there. She kept her hair down so its curled and cascaded down her back and shoulders. She tugged on her black boots and took one more look at herself. A jacket. It might be cold outside and she didn’t want to get sick.

She went digging again in her suitcase before dragging out a black jacket and pulled it on. It was short and cut off just above her waist. One more glance in the mirror. She thought she looked pretty good. She applied a little makeup and then grabbed her small bag and headed out.

In the dark it was a little harder to find her way. It too her a good 30 minutes to even find a bar. When she did she stood outside the door for a second and took a deep breath. She had second thoughts but pushed them aside and walked in.

It was a lot more relaxed then she had thought. It was more of a causal drinking place. She for some reason had an image in her head of lights flashing all over the place and booming music! She realised she must have been thinking more of a night club which she also had never been too.

She walked up to the bar but stood there awkwardly. What should she order? She didn’t even know any names of drinks. She remembered having cider once on her 18th birthday, and even that was watered down with Lemon Juice. But she didn’t even know if they would do it here. She was in the belief that most English things where not here. She still gasped in amazement when she saw something in the supermarket that she had back in England. It was just surreal I suppose.

After a few awkward moments of standing she moved to sit on the stool. She took a deep breath and motioned her hand to the man behind the bar. “Urm… Whiskey please?” She couldn’t help but be annoyed at the uncertainty in her voice. She was waiting to be check of her age, considering how unsure and inexperienced she seemed, but the barman just went and got her drink.

After another awkward moment of working out her money she paid for the drink. She was still getting use to what money was what. Then once the barman left she picked up the drink and took a sip. Instantly she felt like she wanted to spit it out. But she forced herself to swallow which made her cough and splutter a little. She put a hand to her chest as tried to stop coughing, but it only made her eyes water. She pushed the drink away as she covered her mouth with the other hand.

No, whiskey seemed to not be her thing…

[Brennan Ashlock]

Brennan let out a sigh as it finally came time for the end of his shift. Oh, thank goodness, he thought to himself. This had been a crazy shift and he was so glad that it was over...something that he never thought he'd feel working in a library. He walked out of the building and into the parking lot, where he walked over to his 1970 red Mustang, unlocked the door, got in, started, the engine, and then drove off, heading down the street, driving and looking around carefully until he found what he was looking for: a bar. He was still fairly new in town and as such, he still got a bit lost at times. He parked the car, turned off the engine, got out, closed the door, and then locked the door. Okay, here we go, he thought to himself as he headed for the door. This was exactly what he needed right now: a good stiff drink and a chance to relax. Yeah, that sounded good. And he was really looking forward to it.

As he headed in, he let out a heavy sigh, ignoring the other patrons, though out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple of women giving him the once-over. He knew that he looked good in his white t-shirt, red and black checkered jacket, gray jeans that were ripped at the knees, and black boots, but that wasn't why he was here. Nope. No soul mate searching tonight. He was strictly here for a drink. He just needed a drink. That's all there was to it. It had been a long day and he was a bit upset. Now, granted, he didn't tend to drink away his troubles, but he supposed that he could get away with it just this once. You'd think working in a library would be a breeze, and for the most part it was: it was quiet enough where you could actually have a conversation with somebody without having to shout, you could easily find everything, and in the time you weren't helping someone out, you were able to get some reading done. All in all, it was a pretty cool gig. But then there were times when it could get slammed and today had been one of those days where the library had been jammed packed with people looking for different books and Brennan had been on his feet all day going from section to section and dealing with people looking for one thing or another. For the most part, everyone had been great, but there had also been a lot of people who had just hassled him and it had taken all he had not to let the wolf loose and throttle them. If he had done that, not only would he have been out of a job, but people would've asked questions that he would rather not have to answer. Like, for example, how was he so strong? What had set him off? After all, it wasn't like he could tell anyone about his family's curse...not that they'd believe him if he did tell anyone. Heck, he wouldn't believe it if he hadn't actually triggered it. So, yeah, he definitely needed a drink, preferably a really strong one. Maybe that would calm his nerves a bit so he didn't go off on someone. He wasn't sure if it'd work, but it was worth a shot.

Yes, he needed a drink, which is why he was why he had come here. Man, what a day, he thought to himself as he headed for one of the counters. He was so glad that it over and he could just chill out. It was a nice idea. Hopefully, he could just relax. It's what he needed. He was all hyped up and he needed to calm down. He was just lucky that it wasn't a full moon. If it had been a full moon, he would've been even more wound up. And that was the last thing he wanted. The whole point of coming to Mystic Falls was to see if there was a way to reverse what he had done. Hopefully there was a she didn't want to be stuck with this situation for the rest of his life. He wanted to start a family someday, but he'd never risk it with this curse hanging over his head. And it was a curse, even if there were some perks such as the extra strength.

He then gave himself a mental shake as the man behind the bar looked at him. He really needed to stop thinking about this. He just needed to forget. Yeah, forgetting was a good idea.
"What'll it be?" came the question.
"Double Hennessy, Soda Back," he requested. The drink was quickly made and Brennan took out some money and paid for it. He then took a drink and the alcohol slid down his throat easily. That's better, he thought to himself. Soon the alcohol would have its desired effect and this day would be nothing more than a distant memory. And that was what he was looking forward to: making this day disappear. Well, not the whole day, just his day at the library. Man, he had to admit, it was weird wanting to forget a day at his job. Normally, he loved it when a library was packed as it gave him something to do. But, as previously stated, today had been a total pain and now he was completely on edge. He just needed something to take the edge off. Just a little something...

The sound of coughing caught his attention and he turned towards the sound to see a woman and covering her mouth, obviously trying to keep her drink down. That doesn't sound good, he thought to himself. And it really didn't. He saw her put a hand over her mouth as if trying to keep the liquid inside and he could feel his protective instincts kicking in.
"You all right?" he asked in concern, getting off of his stool and walking over to her. Okay, a bit of a stupid question as she was coughing, but it had been the first thing that had popped into his head. "Do you need me to call someone, say, 9-1-1?" he added, reaching for his phone which was in his pocket. She was coughing pretty hard and it seemed to be more than just the drink going down the wrong pipe, and he wasn't sure whether or not he should try the Heimlich on her. However, if she continued coughing like this, he'd definitely try it as it couldn't be good for her to keep coughing like this.

[Cassandra Dane]

How embarrassing… Caz’s attempts to suppress her coughing just made it worse. She was even a little red in the cheeks from it. And if it couldn’t get anymore embarrassing someone had came over to her to asked if she was alright. She glanced at him, her hand still over her mouth to cover her coughs but her polite smile reached her eyes. She shook her head. “N-No I’m fine.” She said finally when her coughing fit seemed to pass. “Drink just went down the wrong way…” She glanced back to her drink. No way she would drink anymore of that. She defiantly was not a whiskey drinker.

To be honest she wasn’t a drinker at all. She had never been drunk in her life. Slightly giddy but nothing more. She much preferred to drink coffee then alcohol. “I wanted to try something new, you know?” She said slightly shyly, she was still embarrassed somewhat. She felt like she had to explain just so he knew she was fine. “I suppose Whiskey wasn’t such a good first time choice.” She rubbed her neck softly before putting them in her lap. She couldn’t help but feel very suddenly on the spot. Maybe it was because, again like every person she had passed since moving here, this guy was also extremely hot? That never effected Caz normally, at least not in the ‘oh my god he is so hot cant breath ahhh~’ way. She could admire the beautiful people but she never felt shy because they where so. Although she never did feel part of that group. She wouldn’t say she was completely ugly, but competing was defiantly out of the question.

She realised she had grow quiet with her thoughts, but was still looking at him. She turned away somewhat. “Thank you though.” She added. She thought it was nice of this guy to ask a complete stranger if she was okay. “I don’t drink often. I’d normally much rather sit with a black coffee.” She felt like she needed to fill the silence. Her inner Caz was drawing a line across her neck as if trying to tell herself to be quiet and stop.

“I should know better really, after all, ‘Drinking makes such fools of people, and people are such fools to begin with, that it's compounding a felony.’” She could feel the little Caz in her head face palming so hard it echoed in her ears. Why the hell did she say that? She hoped with the mix of her English accent and the 1940’s quote hadn’t made her sound too snobbish or make him think she had a stick up her arse. She knew that a lot of American TV shows liked to mock the English for there ‘Queens English’ and so on. She just didn’t want to add to that stereotype.

“Sorry… You’d think I had one too many already with all my blabbering.” She said as she brushed loose hair out her face and bit her lip as if to silence herself.

[Brennan Ashlock]

Brennan watched the woman in concern as she continued to cough, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to jump the gun and give her the Heimlich if she didn't need it, but at the same time, he didn't want to just sit back and do nothing while she choked to death. He visibly relaxed when the coughing seemed to die and she assured him that she was fine and that her drink had merely gone down the wrong way.
"I hate it when that happens," he said sympathetically. And he really did. It was not a fun experience. At the very least, it was embarrassing, and at the worst, it could go on for a while, causing unwanted attention. But at least this woman was all right, which was a relief. He then sat down as she explained that she had wanted to try something new, adding that whiskey probably hadn't been a good idea. "Not if you're not used to drinking, no," he agreed. And from what it sounded like, she wasn't used to drinking, which would explain why she had had so much trouble with her drink. But who was he to judge? It wasn't like he knew how her day had gone or why she had to try out a drink, though from her statement, it sounded like she had ordered the drink out of curiosity rather than a desire to drink it or drown out troubles.

She thanked him and he dismissed the appreciation with a wave of his hand.
"It's no problem. I'm just glad you're all right," he responded, flashing her a smile. He hadn't done anything that anyone else wouldn't have done. He had just gotten there first. He then discreetly checked her out. She was seriously gorgeous. Hearing that she usually preferred black coffee, he grinned. "Girl after my own heart," he stated. Okay, yeah, he was flirting just a little, but he couldn't help it. Flirting was something that just came natural to him. Especially around gorgeous women such as the one that he was currently talking to. Okay Brennan, down boy, he chided himself. She was probably here to unwind and wasn't looking for a hook up. Not that he was looking for a hook up. He just meant that she probably wasn't here to flirt. "I'm Brennan," he introduced himself. Hey, as long as they were talking, they might as well know each other's names, right?

He then laughed at her words.
"I have no idea where that's from, but that's hilarious and true," he commented. People were fools sometimes and drinking definitely enhanced that. Heaven knew he had a couple of embarrassing drunken moments. Not that he could remember, but yeah, anyway, moving on. He shook his head as she apologized for her comment, stating that one would think that she was already drunk with the way she was going on. "No, don't worry about it. It's perfectly fine," he assured her. And it was. He liked talking with her. After the day he had had, it was nice to just sit and talk with someone. Heck, it was nice to be able to sit down for more than two minutes.

[Cassandra Dane]

She felt a little silly that she had blabbered on but he seemed to not mind. Maybe she was making more a deal out of it then she realised. “I tend to be a bit of a flibbertigibbet.” It was true. She saw herself come of very light-headed or even slightly flighty in the mildly crazy sense sometimes. She paused for a second before mentally face palming again. “Doesn’t help when I use words like ’Flibbertigibbet’ huh?” She knew she must of sounded like an idiot.

Caz couldn’t help but return his grin with one of her own small smiles. Was he flirting? No surely not… maybe just a little? Caz didn’t deal with a lot of flirting. Not because she wasn’t attractive, because she was. It was more because she didn’t leave her house much. Her aunt had had tight reins on Caz during all her teenage years. Now that she was in a complete different country things would be different. After he introduced himself she felt it only right to return the favour. “Nice to meet you Brennan, I’m Cassandra.” She held her hand out to shake before adding, “But people call me Caz.”

She turned in her seat a little so they where more facing each other now. With her leg crossed over the other she rested her hands in her lap. She had to meet more people. She hardly left her room at the motel apart from when she was out of snacks and coffee. She had donated so much time to her mission. Maybe it was time she let it loose a little? After all it wasn’t like she was going to be going to paint this small town red or anything. The most she would get up to was have a chat and then return to that dingy motel room. She highly doubt a guy with these looks would want to spend long talking to someone like her.

She grin at his approval of her quote. “I wish I could say it was my own. An American humorist from the 1900's called Robert Benchley came up with it.” She bit her lip a little to stop herself ranting on about him. Its not that she had any real interest in Robert Benchley, its just that she was able to retain a large amount of information. Normally on dead people sadly. You ask her about medieval England she’ll answer in a heart beat. Ask her about an modern celebrity and what not and she wouldn’t have a clue. Even her music was dated slightly. She didn’t even know who Nicki Minaj was.

She looked away for only to grab the bartenders attention and asked for a coffee. She again struggled with her money but in the end gave him the right change and looked back at Brennan as waited for her drink. “Do you like Whiskey?” She said sliding the drink to him. She only offered because she didn’t like wasting it. Not that there was a lot of it to waste considering it was a shot… and she already gulped half it down.

She let out a soft sigh when her coffee was placed in front of her and she took a sip. She tore open a little sachet of sugar and put it in the coffee before stirring it in. “So are you from around here?” She felt like it was the next step of conversation. They had already exchanged names. She knew it was clear she wasn’t, after all she had a English accent so one would assume she wasn’t from here. Which in most parts was true but she was born here.

[Brennan Ashlock]

Brennan smiled as she said that she was a bit of a flibbertigibbet and then went on to say that it probably wasn't a good thing that she had used the word.
"Nah, it's cute," he assured her. And it was. Granted, the last time he had heard the word was when he had been forced to sit through "The Sound Of Music", but he didn't care. He rather liked the word. Besides, it was a free country and she should feel free to use any word that she wanted to.

He flashed her a grin when she introduced herself as Cassandra, adding that most people just called her Caz.
"Nice to meet you too," he told her. "If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get the nickname 'Caz'?" he wondered. "And if I'm prying, feel free to tell me to mind my own business," he added. The last thing he wanted to do was to stick his nose where it didn't belong. He knew that a lot of people valued their privacy and for all he knew, she was one of them.

He then nodded as she said that the quote wasn't her own but had come from someone in the nineteen-hundreds named Robert Benchley.
"I see," he said. "I've never heard of him. I assume he was a poet or an author?" he queried, hoping that he wasn't showing off his ignorance, though he had a feeling that he was. That was okay though he supposed. He had never claimed to know everything. In fact, he was perfectly aware that he didn't know everything.

At her question of whether or not he liked Whiskey, he shrugged and took the shot that she had thrust towards him and downed it quickly.
"It's not my favorite, but why let it go to waste?" he asked after he had drained the shot. "What about you? Not a Whiskey girl, huh?" he commented. Okay, from the reaction he had seen, he knew it was a stupid question, but it was a way to keep the conversation going.

At her question of whether or not he was from Mystic Falls, he nodded.
"Born and raised. I left for college and then came back and now I work in the local library," he answered. "How about you? Where are you from, England?" he queried, hoping that he hadn't guessed wrong, but if he had, she'd tell him. At least, he hoped she would...

[Cassandra Dane]

She shrugged a little when he asked where the nickname of Caz came from. “My late Mother was the only one who called me Cassandra most the time. She kind of wasn’t there when I was growing up so I hated her for it. And in result didn’t really like anyone calling me Cassandra.” She paused. She just never liked the way her mother said her name. As if she was somehow a stranger rather then the women’s daughter. “Plus Cassandra is way to formal.” She added to lighten the mood.

She smiled a little more when he admitted he didn’t know about Robert Benchley. She didn’t blame him, Benchley wasn’t that well known. Caz assumed he had some kind of following somewhere in the world but was glad to say she was not part of it. “He was a Humorist. He acted, wrote and just spoke in a general Humorous way. He Wrote articles for Vanity Fair and The New Yorker.” She stopped before his head dropped to the table in a boredom coma. She knew she could be boring sometimes with her facts. “I’m just really good at retaining information.” She added as if it was an excuse.

She watched him down the whiskey in one shot. She was amazed he could swallow the stuff. As he had seen she had had a lot of trouble with it. “I highly doubt it will be something I try again.” She laughed. “Unless I’m already Drunk on something else I suspect.”

“You work at the Library? We must of walked straight past each other at some point.” She was surprised she had not seen or met him before. She had been to the library a lot since she had got here. She felt a prang of jealously that he went to collage. Caz had went to collage to become a Historian… but her problems with her mother pulled her down and when she was half way through her cause she had to drop out to help with bills. Her aunt had carried her as long as she could. Caz couldn’t ask any more from her.

When he asked about where she was from she took a sip of her coffee, glad that it had washed away all traces of the whiskey. “Well… Yes I was raised in England but I was born here. Apparently my Father side of my family come from here. My mother was English. My Father died when I was little so my mother moved us back to England to be close to family.” She paused and took another sip. “In fact that’s why I was celebrating with the whiskey.”

“Of course not over the death of my father…” She realised how heartless she could sound if he thought she was just celebrating his death in a general way. “I didn’t know anything of my Father, but I found out toward from some old newspapers how he died. Some animal attack or something.” She shrugged a little. “Do you get Bears around here and stuff? I really have no clue when it comes to stuff like that. England doesn’t have Bears or the like.” The only deadly animal that Caz could think of in England would be all in captivity. Even the Spiders and Snakes that can bite through the human skin would only leave a rash most the time.

[Brennan Ashlock]

Brennan then nodded in understanding as Cassandra explained that only her mother---who hadn't been around much---ever called her "Cassandra" and as a result didn't much like being called "Cassandra".
"I getcha. Some people like to use a shortened form of my last name as a nickname," he stated with a roll of his eyes. He wasn't sure why some people thought it was funny to call him "Ash", but it was definitely annoying. If someone were to call him "Lock" he wouldn't mind it---though it'd be weird---but calling him "Ash" was insulting considering that he was a guy. He then let out a chuckle as she added that Cassandra way too formal. "All right then, "Caz" it is," he agreed with a smile.

Upon hearing that Robert Benchley had been a humorist who had written for Vanity Fair and the New Yorker, Brennan nodded.
"Oh I see. I guess I'll have to look him up," he commented. The guy sounded kind of cool and he was always up for reading new reading material. "I'm more of a Faulkner fan. He's not a humorist, but I read a collection of his letters and he could be pretty funny at times," he continued.

Caz seemed to be surprised that Brennan worked in the library, saying that they must've walked by each other at some point as she hadn't seen him there.
"Well, to be fair, I just started, so I'm not surprised that we missed each other," he stated. Well, that, and if it was a slow day, he probably had his nose buried in a book. Yes, that sounded bad, but it was the truth.

Brennan listened as Caz explained that she had been born in Mystic Falls but had been raised in England after her father's death, which had been the reason for the drink---it was a celebration. Somehow I don't think she meant it that way, he thought to himself, raising an eyebrow. Almost as if reading his mind, she hastened to add that she wasn't celebrating the man's death.

He then frowned as she mentioned reading about her father's death in a newspaper, that had stated that he had been killed in an animal attack. Animal attack. Yeah, that was the Mystic Falls party line. It was the Founders' way of hiding the fact that the town was crawling with vampires. Then again, maybe the man's death was caused by someone who was like him. Well, either way, the cause of death had been hidden.
"I'm sorry to hear that. It sounds like a brutal way to die," he said sympathetically. And it really did, though he supposed things could be worse. She could know the truth. At her question, he shrugged. "I haven't heard anything about bears moving down here, but I suppose if enough of their habitat's encroached on, it's possible," he answered.