American Society (open)

I sigh and take a seat at the bar. I speak to no one in particular in my thick Irish accent. It makes absolutely no sense that in America, you can drive before you can drink. In Ireland you can drink when you're bloody 16. I'm 18 for god's sake I should be able to make my own decision to drink. It's my body. I'm not an idiot, I don't drink and drive. I glance over the menu. I guess I'll have a coke then, please.

I pat down my dress and I walk into the bar. I sit down at a stool next to a guy a bartender came to me "Bourbon Please.". He asks for my I.D, My eyes pierce and I look into his and I start to compel. "I am over 21. I do not need an I.D." He nods in agreement and leaves to get my bourbon. Mmm... The good life in the falls.

I shake my head as the girl next to me compels the bartender. For god's sake, I'm not in the mood to be fed on, hybrid. Do me a favor, and stick to your bourbon. I'm annoyed with these people.

The guy next to me noticed vampirism "Darling, If I was going to kill you... You would be dead." The bartender comes out with my bourbon. "Thanks my good man!" I toss him a doar an gulp from my cup of bourbon. I extend my arm over to him. "Sasha Marköv, You are?"

I smirk and shake her hand. Jason Donovan. My Irish accent always seems to keep people from wanting to kill me. Something about it being "endearing" and sexy. I can't exactly disagree. Just kidding, I'm not an arrogant twat.

"Well nice to meet you, Jason. You know... I Can compel the bartender to give you a drink.."

I smirk. This might be just as productive. I flag down the female barista and lay on my thick accent. Get me a glass of Scotch on the rocks, will you darling? I give her my signature smile. She blushes and pours me a glass. I hand her a 50. The twenty's yours, darling, the rest is on my tab. I take a long sip of my drink.

"Your welcome". I say playfully. I take a gulp of bourbon. "Wanna play foosball? A tables over there... We can talk over there too." I drink the last bit of bourbon and slide it down the table

I smirk and take another sip of my drink. No thanks. My interests do not include miniature football. Although I will talk, if you insist. I take another gulp of my scotch. It burns in a good way.

"Ok... What brings you to the falls?"
OOC:Sorry for short post

I take another gulp of my scotch. My parents were killed, so I was sent to live with my alcoholic grandparents here. I'm 18 now so they moved to Florida and I moved into my own apartment.

"Sorry for your loss..." I say, One of the benefits of being a Vampire, living forever

I smirk. Don't be. I hate pity anyway. I look up and sigh. I'm sorry, I'm being an ass. I've had a long day.