You can applaud if you wanna

Ooooh there it was, Vito could see Jack’s other side starting to break through the shield that she had up whenever Vito was around her. He licked his lips, enjoying the fact that she was drinking freely from the glass now, without hesitation. “The evil? More like the inhumanly hansom, with a little bit of cruelty thrown in the mix,” he corrected her, running a hand through his hair, squinting his eyes slightly in a seductive manor, and smirking as if to prove his point.

“Mmmm, come over here, doll,” Vito ordered, waving her over to his side of the booth before finishing off the bottle of wine he had brought down from the second floor a bit ago. Vito raised his arm in the air halfheartedly and watched as one of the dancers made their way over to him, “Another bottle, beautiful,” he told her and brought her hand to his lips, kissing the skin above her knuckles before allowing the women to go and fetch him his second drink.

Vito leaned his head against the back of the booth and rested his head on his folded arms, staring over at Jack all the while. King of the world, he thought again, which wasn’t exactly a rare thought to cross his mind- in fact, in order to keep his ego balanced out the way he liked it, he often found himself repeating that statement plenty of times a day.

But an egotistical poltergeist has got to do what an egotistical poltergeist has got to do.

Jack squinted back at him, though not seductively at all. She was relaxing a bit, but that did not change the fact that she was not the kind of girl to warm up to a guy just because he was trying to look cool. She was still the same old tomboy who thought in terms of friendship before anything else.

She took a drink to buy herself time and then she slowly set the down the glass. There was something odd going on, she could see it now. She was spared having to think of some insult to throw at him when he was distracted by requesting another drink. Again, she pretended to forget what he had said in order to dodge the obligation of responding.

She pushed her feet back up onto the table, wondering if it bothered Vito to see her dirty sneakers on his table. She sipped the drink out of the corner of her mouth, nose wrinkling and stomach churning. she set it down. No more water for right now. She was getting a brain freeze from the ice or something...

She eyed him. He sure looked arrogant right now, staring back at her, but she sort of wondered why she hated him so much. He was a jerk, but he could be kind of cool sometimes. She would not care to date him, of course, but he could be someone she hung out with, right? "You never answered my question. How long have you had the place?"

"Satin's? I've owned this amazing place for as long as I've been in London- although I don’t remember how long that has been..." he said with a rather thoughtful expression that suited him rather well. The first time he had been in London had been when he had woken up in the sand, which had been the third time he had woken. Vito himself still hadn’t any idea why he had woken that time around; being a poltergeist, he was always created by the hateful or malicious feelings of a human being, but so far, it had been many years- so many, in fact, that he couldn’t remember –and he still didn’t know who had created him.

After a while of strange silence from Vito, simply eyeing Jack as he thought to himself, the dancer he had told to get him another bottle of alcohol returned with his drink in hand, “Here you are, Mr. Symons,” she said with a roll of her fingers, waving flirtatiously before walking away. Vito smirked and brought the bottle’s rim to his lips, allowing the liquid to fill his mouth and burn his throat as it ran down his system. “Why ask?” he questioned simply to make conversation until she lost her common sense to the alcohol.

He very much wanted to see her dance to the music that was playing loudly throughout the place, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to get her to let go that much.

Vito eyed her sneakers, appalled by the filthiness of her shoes, “Ugh, darling, those don’t even qualify as shoes,” he told her with distaste, hoping that perhaps later in the evening he could get her to trade shoes with one of the dancers at the very least.

She nodded at his little story and then replied, "I can't be curious? Geez, I apologize, thought police." She chuckled at her feeble joke and sighed, glancing up as the dancer flirted with Vito. She would rather shoot herself than become a bubblehead like that. Seriously, who did that...?

Jack sighed and laid her head back, lolling her head slightly. "Ugh..." Her headache was getting worse, but the tension was being relieved in her shoulders. She adjusted the way she was sitting, letting out a yawn and then sipping more from the water, before remembering that she had told herself not to. Ah well. She set it down.

He sneered about her shoes and she waggled her toes, smiling at him as she kicked them back and forth a little. "Aw, you're just jealous that you can't rock this look, aren't you?" She grinned deviously and glanced out across the dance floor, seeing people dance against each other. She wrinkled her nosed. She would never do that.

She looked back at Vito and asked, "Have you always wanted to own a place like this? Was it like a dream of yours or something?" She did not know why she suddenly wanted to know all of this stuff about her enemy, but as she got more and more relaxed, she realized she ought to be friendly.

((I may disappear for a few hours))

“I ‘rock’ my own clothing, thanks,” Vito replied with a roll of his eyes, pushing her feet off of the table- though he doubted she would keep them off of the table even after having done so. Vito didn’t really care if people dirtied his place, because that was what the maids were for, but the fact that Jack’s shoes were in such poor condition made Vito want to shudder; if anyone could dress in the morning and feel satisfied with their appearance while wearing such unattractive clothing, something was clearly wrong with their eyesight. He considered asking her if she would like him to pay for a trip to see an optometrist, but he decided to drop the conversation in order to avoid looking at her hideous sneakers again.

Despite his earlier comment on the questions she was asking him, he very much enjoyed being the one the conversations were centered around- heck, anything that got him attention made him happy- so he listened to her next question and answered her, trying his best not to show his enjoyment on his face, “Was it a dream of mine? Well…”- Vito had to think about that one for a moment before continuing, for he himself couldn’t remember if it had always been a dream of is-“No… not always. When I was created this time around, I couldn’t find my creator, and so I had to find something better to do with my time…” that was a level of honesty that Vito had never reached with anyone, and he only realized this after he shared that personal information.

Vito didn’t exactly enjoy speaking about his life unless it was to brag about the horrible things he had done in the past, and he realized he had made a mistake the second that the words fell from his lips. He rubbed his temples slowly, feeling a sinking feeling his stomach- that same feeling that he felt whenever someone insulted the way he looked, or anything to do with his appearance; it was a terrible emotion that Vito didn’t enjoy at all.

But it wasn’t long before that feeling was replaced with a anger that burned fiercely beneath his ribcage. He tried, at first to calm himself, but after experiencing that same rage many times before, he knew by then that it wasn’t exactly something he could control. Vito grabbed hold of his bottle of wine and threw it in the direction of the bar, hitting the bartender square in the face. “Get me another f*ckin’ wine!” he ordered in his usual low voice, acid dripping from his every word. One of the maids ran quickly to the bar and tried to get the bartender up off of the floor in order to get Vito his wine before he did the same thing to her as well.

The poltergeist turned to look back at Jack, not realizing that he had once again became transparent. His eyes felt as if they had been lit on fire as he stared at her, wishing to rip her apart in order to end the fury- but he didn’t, because that would ruin everything he had worked for that evening. Vito breathed in slowly and waited for his heartbeat to slow and for the static in his mind to disappear in order for him to take on his human appearance once more.

Jack was feeling the strange headache gathering in the middle of her temple and she was getting groggy, yet focused too. It was strange. She was suddenly jerked out of her concentration on the way she was feeling by her feet sliding off the table. She rocked forward and stopped her head from banging into the table. She grinned at his words and then folded her hands, placing them on the table.

She leaned in jokingly as Vito began to speak, as though she were hanging on his every word. Though the more he began to speak, the more she found that she actually was. He was sharing personal information, something he did not try to do. It almost made him sound humane, the way he was talking about it. She could feel something building inside of her...

It was sympathy. Her face softened as she nodded slowly, swallowing. She said quietly, "You were created then?" She had no idea how the whole poltergeist process worked and she had never ever thought to ask. Why would she- she and Vito were enemies. She did not think of him as someone with feelings, because he did not act like he had any. "That must be hard to be separated."

Suddenly she saw the expression change on his face into an all to familiar look. Suddenly, he flung the bottle of wine and Jack gasped, pushing herself back and flinching as it hit the poor, innocent bartender. What had he done. She cursed and turned back to Vito, her lips contorting in fury. "That wasn't right, Vito!" Her hands shook with shock and anger.

Suddenly he was gone, and Jack shrank back slightly in her seat, keeping a straight expression on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and when he appeared, she could see the flicker of hatred had returned into his eyes, and it was directed at her. She blinked once, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything, but just watched him carefully.

“Don’t you look at me with sympathy in your eyes, freak,” Vito growled, smashing his fist into the table once without actually meaning to. Why on earth was she looking at him like that? He didn’t need that- he didn’t want that disgusting pity. “Hard to separate!? I murder every. single. one of them,” he replied coldly. That terrifying hatred still hadn’t left his eyes, or his black heart, and in order to keep himself from lashing out at Jack, he had to get to his feet. “Drink that…” Vito ordered her in a somewhat suffocated voice, pointing to the water, before walking away from the table and climbing the stairs that lead to the second floor.

He didn’t want to kill her; she was too entertaining to destroy.

As soon as Vito stepped onto the second floor, smashing glass could be heard from the first floor. The regulars were used to Vito Dee Symons getting angry- so were the staff members –but none of them had ever seen him this enraged, and so they all went quiet and listened closely as he kicked mirrors and threw bottles of alcohol about. No one else was on the second floor other than the dead man from earlier, and Vito… had anyone else been, they would have been killed within seconds of Vito spotting them.

After a few moments, the chaotic noises stopped, and people began to murmur:

“Do you think he is going to close the place early on us?”
“I heard he killed someone upstairs”
“I’ve always known something was wrong with that one…”
“He’s got style, but really, who wants a man with that temper?
“I blame the alcohol- its real strong stuff”

Vito, on the other hand, was breathing slowly, staring at himself in the mirror, leaning against the sink in front of him with his arms. He watched as his skin flickered in-between transparency and normality. Vito closed his eyes and was still for a minute, he needed to see his reflection in the mirror and for it to be perfect or else he swore he would smash it into pieces.

Jack pushed herself as far away from the demented poltergeist as she could get while still sitting in the booth as he freaked out. He was going ballistic. She had seen him et mad, but this was crazy. This was frightening, enough to make her want to get up and walk out of the place. If she was a normal teen, she would have.

But this was Jack, who could be daring and foolish sometimes. After Vito left she sat in her seat for a moment, staring off into the distance. She swallowed, closing her eyes. She was actually pretty frightened now. The people on the first floor were glancing at her, wondering what this short, scraggly little muggleborn could have done to piss Vito off so much.

She heard the shatter of glass and shuddered, but she looked up and her face was set. She slid out of the booth and began walking across the floor, people ogling her as though watching a dead girl walking. She bit her lip and walked upstairs. She thought she saw someone do the Catholic cross thing. Way to inspire confidence...

She followed the sound of labored breathing, hoping she was approaching Vito and not,,,other people. She paused as she realized she had come to the room. The buzz (that she did not know she had) had mysteriously disappeared in the excitement, though she was acting reckless, even more reckless than usual.

She had come to the room, but it took her a second to gather the nerve to walk in. She automatically veered towards the bathroom, and peered inside. She saw nothing until the image of Vito flicked into the mirror. She froze and, trying to keep her voice level and her face blank, she said, "I don't pity you." She held her gaze, wondering if these were her last words or if they were even the right words. Either way, it was done now...

Vito had heard her footsteps when she had walked into the room, and so he was not startled by her voice when she spoke, but the fact that she had fallowed him made him want to scream at her; he had left in order to keep her alive, after all. Vito opened his eyes for a moment to stare into the reflective glass in front of him, only to watch his face flicker before his eyes, like a lamp freaking out because someone forgot to pay the electric bill.

“Why would you?! I Have more going for me than you ever will! I have achieved perfection, so why on earth would you ever pity me!?” Vito growled. His voice never seemed to change in volume, but he always managed to pack as much malice into his words as he would have been able to achieve when screaming at the top of his lungs. Perhaps the reason Vito seemed so threatening when he spoke like that, was because of the fact that he kept his voice so low.

Flicker. Flicker.

He couldn’t calm himself long enough to make himself appear human again, and he was getting too frustrated attempting to do so.

Jack shouldn’t have fallowed him upstairs. It had been a foolish action.

Vito turned around quickly and glared at the young woman with his cold eyes, “Why? Why the hell did you fallow me!?” he demanded to know, grabbing hold of Jack’s arms roughly, pushing her backwards in hopes of making her fall to the floor. He felt the need to pull her pretty little head off of her shoulders, and could only refrain from doing so for so much longer...

Jack could not tell if it was frightening or painful to watch Vito flicker between looking human and from being invisible. She instantly realized that the words had not helped at all. It was probably the mere act of her following him that pissed him of more than anything. And yet she did not regret her decision.

As she spoke, the usual Jack inside her wanted to sneer or roll her eyes, but the Jack that was aware that she may die forced her to stay blank, even as his voice was filled with a frightening level of malice. She pursed her lips to keep any fear from escaping her. Sure, she was tough, but that did not escape the fact that she was still a sixteen year old kid.

He pushed her and she stumbled, her foot catching, but she put her hands back and stopped herself from hitting the ground. She pushed herself up and she straightened up before stumbling back a little. Through the flickers of his face, she could see the rage and hate on Vito's face. She shivered and took a step back, her voice gone. She did not know what he wanted. She had a shrewd feeling that if she tried to walk away, he would chase after her and scream after her. Almost sounding helpless, though she managed to pass it off with her usual boldness, she said, "What do you want me to say?"