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#126
24th Mar 2009 at 3:09 PM
24th Mar 2009 at 3:09 PM
Adrien and Lola - from alley to outside Lola's apartment
"Boooooriiiing", was however the only thing coming from the little Malkavian redhead as she announced her opinion of what was going on, while ceasing all movement towards him.
Or at all, for that matter. She simply froze, as though she had been instantly turned to stone, no sign of life in her non-breathing, non-blinking form, except the slight shifting of her eyes as she kept on watching Adrien and Lola. Lola, whom he could feel was starting to draw away from him in order to abide by his request and investigate the conditions of a clean retreat, the air left between them vibrating with her reluctance, as well as his own. For yes, he was reluctant to let her step out of the range of his defenses, but figured that it was probably the better option. And he was determined to not completely let her out of his sight. Partly because he wanted to make sure there were no surprises lurking for her nearby, and partly because even though his intuition told him she wouldn't, he didn't want to give her a chance to run from him, and get them both even deeper into trouble.
Thus, when she hurried out of the alley, Adrien himself kept backing slowly towards the maw, keeping her moving form visible in the corner of his visual field, but himself cloaked in the shadows, lowering the gun just enough for it to remain unseen by outsiders. With Lola even further away from the Malkavian, and now in plain view of other people as well, he could afford it. Should the redhead decide to be a fool for real, a flick of his wrist was all it would take for the muzzle to lock on her again.
Luckily for her, she stayed, and when out of the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Lola's arm come up in the usual gesture for hailing a cab, he let the gun slip fully back underneath his coat, and sent the Malkavian one last warning glare, before ducking out of the alley and into the cascading lights of the street outside. Managing to remain fairly casual even despite the rather brisk pace of his walk, and the few glances he sent back over his shoulder to make sure the redhead - or anyone else for that matter - wasn't following, he then started making his way swiftly towards the car, watching as Lola slid into the backseat and, all in accordance with his intuition, left the door open to wait for him, rather than slamming it shut and taking off before he got there.
So, she did still trust him then, regardless of having just confessed to being a vampire; a type of creature that in, what, three out of four cases this evening, had done nothing but harm and frighten her? Either she was really, really naive, or she actually had a very good head on her shoulders. And judging by things so far, Adrien was inclined to lean towards the latter.
Seconds later, he joined her in the car, sliding into the backseat right next to her, with the kind of effortless grace brought by years and years of being completely aware and in full control of his body, his every movement. In the rearview mirror, he met the driver's gaze, and gave him a curt nod in greeting, as well as a sign that they were ready to leave. As the car then rolled slowly away from the sidewalk and back into the street proper, he turned his head slightly for a last glance over his shoulder. Much to his satisfaction, he saw no sign of the redhead. Apparently she really had gotten the message. Unless, of course, she had Obfuscated again, but something told him that despite her madness, she was smarter than that.
What he did see, however, was his stalker emerging from another nearby alley in a hurry, head whipping from side to side in frantic search of his target, before it finally seemed to dawn on him that Adrien was in the departing cab, just as it turned a corner, onto one of the considerably more busy streets. But by then, Adrien's attention had shifted. As the car had been set into motion, and he had glanced back over his shoulder, he had felt Lola's touch. A small hand had come to rest gingerly upon his own, and sent another electric shock running through him, from the spot where their skin touched, all the way up his arm and causing a slight quiver in his shoulder, as though he was about to once again pull away from her.
But he didn't. He steeled himself, and made a conscious effort not to. For some reason, the idea of seeing that same hurt from before in her eyes again, bothered him, and he wasn't particularly looking to draw it out again. Instead, he simply turned his head to look at her, dark green-tinged eyes meeting her pale blue ones, before dropping to her hand, as though seeing what unnerved him so would somehow lessen it's effect on him.
It didn't.
"Are you alright?" he thus asked, bringing his gaze back to her face and resorting to words to keep himself focused.
He would've rather asked her what he'd intended to ask her just before little Miss Mad Hatter had shown up, regarding the Sabbat, but with another unwitting human around, this was hardly the time nor the place. And it seemed Lola too realized it, for after giving a somber "I'll live" in response to his question, she too remained quiet, leaving the rest of the journey to happen mostly in silence, breaking it only once to tell him her bleeding was subsiding. Adrien, however, replied only with a slight nod, but did take a few moments to study her, as if to make sure that she was indeed alright - under the circumstances - and that if she was about to be slammed by the shock that usually followed in the wake of such an intense adrenaline rush, he would see it coming and be prepared to subdue it until they were alone once more, and she could break down without bringing unwanted attention to them. Harsh, perhaps, but necessary.
Before long, they then arrived at an apartment complex in a fairly decent part of town, and as Lola slid out of the car, Adrien handed the cab driver a few bills, including a tip that was large enough not to cause disgruntlement but small enough not to cause much excitement either; the perfect amount to not stand out and have the driver remember much about them. Then, Adrien exited the car as well and pushed the door shut behind him, while gazing up at the building.
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#127
25th Mar 2009 at 5:45 AM
25th Mar 2009 at 5:45 AM
Alley to Bookstore - Flare and Aishe
The Hunter thought quite a bit of her, to hold her as a threat after all that. Flare thought she should probably take it as a compliment; most other Kindred didn't seem to take her seriously, with her slight stature and infatuation with the entertainments of Kine.
Still ... she made her way on being underestimated. Tapping her lower lip with one finger, the mostly-lucid "child" considered this development. This could be problematic.
Oh well.
In his rush to follow the departing pair, their watcher apparently took his eyes off of Flare, and disregarding her for even a moment let the half-world slip over her. Her vision became distorted, strange, and she knew she'd returned to invisibility. Apparently, she still had at least a second or two of Obfuscate left in her, so she remained statuesque until the last Kindred who wasn't her had gone. When no one was looking at her anymore, she began walking again, the half-world dispersing.
As she ventured deeper into the alley, Flare wondered: Do I really look so frightening, then?
--Some Time Later, in an Alley Far, Far Away--
She knelt, laying the sleeping Kine down gently. He'd fancied himself cultured, visiting the classy Kindred bookstore, but he stepped outside to burn his lungs, and now he looked kind've like a vagrant in his sleep. She checked his neck, to make sure it had healed. It had.
His blood tasted charred, as though he'd slow-roasted just a little too long. It made sense; he'd been inhaling smoke from the little white death-stick. That it made sense didn't mean she had to like it, though, and if she wasn't so desperate for blood, she would have turned her nose up or gagged a little.
Instead, she drank deeply, and nearly killed the man. It was so hard ... especially after ...
No. She wouldn't think about it, and it wouldn't have happened.
It was just hard, pulling the Beast back, resisting the urge to kill again, to drain him dry. Good to the last drop, and she'd wasted a lot of blood in her games. But she'd managed, somehow.
Flare checked the man's neck, brushing back the long, black hair again. He'd healed, definitely.
She opened his leather moneyclip, filching the green, papery gold she found there, leaving it empty on his chest, and placed her new wealth into the last stolen wallet. She didn't even feel the pang of guilt. Some part of her thought of him as cattle, as a worthless nothing ... and that part kept growing.
Of course. You're surrendering your humanity in leaps and bounds. It won't be long before you're mad, rabid, like a dog that needs put down. It'll get harder and harder to pull back, you know.
She shuddered, pulling away from the man, pressing her palms into her eyes. No, no. She was a good girl, she was.
Liar.
She knelt, to check his throat. He'd healed.
For certain, this time.
She pressed her ear to his chest. Heart was weak, still beating, breathing. He was still breathing.
She checked his throat. He had healed.
He had.
She turned away, began walking to the mouth of the alley, turned again, knelt. Checked his heart, his lungs, his throat.
Healed. He'd be fine.
She shook her head, pressing her palms to her eyes, and ran, slamming into a middle-aged-woman. Bloody tears are in her eyes as she pulls away.
((OOC: Hope this works for you, gdayars.))
#128
25th Mar 2009 at 6:03 AM
25th Mar 2009 at 6:03 AM
Flare and Aishe - Bookstore
#129
25th Mar 2009 at 8:58 PM
25th Mar 2009 at 8:58 PM
Outside the Bookstore - Flare and Aishe
Kine were so fragile.
" ... all right?" No, no he wasn't, she needed to go check ....
"We need to get you somewhere out of sight, as bloody tears in public are a no-no for your kind are they not?"
What?
Trust her.
A sniffle, eyes wide and a little bit frightened, she nodded. "The Mask Party. Everyone's so scared you people will know we're here that nobody can do anything, and we have to dress up in pretty masks because it's not right or proper to come to a Masque without a mask ...." She scrubbed at her eyes with the napkin, then paused, looked up at the Gypsy woman, confused. "How do you know about us, though?"
The Kindred Beasts.
Need to go check on the human calf.
Shared blood down the ages.
Fragile like spun glass ....
Dead Kindred cousins to living Kine.
Flare turned away, looking back down the alley. The body - he was still alive, wasn't he? She should check if he'd healed - was mostly hidden.
"The Gangrel can walk on two legs. They just choose not to."
"The Gangrel can walk on two legs ... they just choose not to." This last was murmured, an echo of the Voice she heard in her head.
((OOC: The italic paragraphs are, incidentally, Flare's slice of the Malkavian Insight. You may have noticed.
Props to the Nasty Dude from VtM-B, for the quote.))
#130
25th Mar 2009 at 9:57 PM
25th Mar 2009 at 9:57 PM
Aeode and Noah - The Haven, Aeode ---> leaving
Aeode was feeling slightly better. While the situation had most undoubtedly been an unpleasant one and the irritation had yet to depart, she felt a strange satisfaction at having been able to pry three close-minded, alcoholic youths away from the object of their ridicule and see them walk out of the establishment. Small as it was, it constituted a victory in the name of the underdog, one of the rare moments of solidarity Aeode tended to experience, but it wasn't only that. It felt good to tell those pathetic excuses for human beings off, take them down a peg or two when they felt most secure, not to mention find some sort of release for the pent-up frustration that over the past hours had been brewing inside her.
At first, the identity of the victim hadn't been important, Aeode deciding to intervene even before she'd recognized Noah's lean features looming in the shadows. She'd been more focused on the aggressors, but now that they were gone, a sliver of compassion towards the quiet, almost melancholy man emerged. He'd kept his calm, but there was no mistaken the darkness smouldering in his eyes, the hurt and anger suppressed within. Of course, the insults had been directed at who he was, his heritage, and he was bound to be more affected by them than Aeode. In a strange way, it humanized him in her eyes. That other side of him, the feral, violent one, was merging with the one she could see before her then, that of a man who'd shown regret, empathy and now proven himself capable of restraint in the face of gratuitous aggression. It was true that Aeode wouldn't soon forget the moments of chilling terror clutching her guts at the sight of tha snarling, crouching figure the previous night – that picture had been forever burned in her memory, but the image of the man Noah was changing. Evolving, perhaps. By the time she was conscious of the fact, Aeode discovered that most of the anxiety she felt around him was dissipating, and was being replaced with a genuine interest in who he was as a person, entirely aside from the vampire aspect. Having seen him withstand the insults hurled at him so very carelessly, it was easy to forget just what he was capable of. Aeode forgot none of it, but instead recognized his effort not to use those frightful abilities on those men. That wasn't the reaction of an animal, and Aeode could even admire him for it.
"It's hard to hold on to it", Noah said following a period of silence during which they'd both been busy recollecting their thoughts, “But you're a part of humanity and you helped me. I'm not sure I know why, but thank you.”
For a short while they'd been two outcasts brought closer by unexpected circumstances, but at the sound of those words Aeode felt distance increase once more. It was an insight into the way Noah thought, and even while the borders between vampire and human were beginning to blur in her mind, he still saw them as two distinct entities. Perhaps he was right, Aeode hardly knew what to think or what was a good opinion to form: she sought something familiar to relate to and when she'd thought she'd seen it, reaching out to it had come instinctively. At the same time, she didn't truly feel as though she was “part of humanity” the way Noah put it: she was human, yes, but she merely drifted through life, without taking root anywhere or becoming properly involved with the rest of human kind. As for why she'd helped him...the reasons were several, ultimately amounting to “because she'd wanted to.” Now, in the aftermath, knowing the gesture was appreciated, she didn't regret it. Despite the circumstances in which they'd met, this seemed a person Aeode might not dislike, after all.
“Though I guess you must wonder... why I couldn't do it myself." Noah added. Aeode straightened herself and gave him a sharp, affirmative glance: he guessed correctly, but hers was perhaps a different “why”. The fact that he couldn't savage those men inside The Haven was straightforward enough, but that didn't mean he couldn't have lured them outside in a dingy alley and unleashed himself upon them. They were drunk enough, confident in their superiority and in the mood for a fight, they would have leaped at the opportunity. Noah, though, was unaware that the one thing Aeode knew with certainty about Kindred was their struggle to remain beyond the fringes of human knowledge, which nearly had her sentenced to death.
“Look,” she began and drew a little closer as though concerned someone might overhear them, as unlikely as it was, “I may not know a lot about...your kind, but I have pretty much gathered that you're extremely serious about secrecy, and this is a very crowded club. Not that there wouldn't have been...other options. Whatever your reasons, I'm glad you didn't though: they weren't worth it.”
Whether she didn't think they were worth Noah's trouble or sacrificing another bit of his humanity on the altar of vengeance, Aeode didn't say, for she immediately became aware of the fact that she was still on duty and she'd been missing from Jim's side for nearly half an hour on an extremely busy night. Shifting to one side, she peered into the distance where she could spot the bar, nearly entirely engulfed by a compact mass of demanding clientèle. For an instant, Aeode had a vision of brainless, lumbering zombies, what remained of their shredded psyche bent on one thing alone, and had to suppress a private chuckle.
“I believe I should attempt to rescue my colleague from a horde of alcohol-craving zombies”, Aeode commented, smiling indulgently at the mental image of poor Jim juggling orders behind the mob currently obstructing him from view. Returning her attention to Noah, she continued matter-of-factly:
“Hey listen, is it okay if we continue this conversation after my shift is over? I only have about thirty, thirty-five minutes left. If you're still around, that is.”
Since Aeode had no idea why Noah was visiting The Haven or what his plans were nor could she afford to stay and chat indefinitely at that moment, with a final nod and a curt wave, she departed, this time pushing her way through the crowds with more vehemence and ignoring the huffs and irritated glances she was gathering in her wake. As expected, it was pandemonium at the bar and Aeode felt she owed Jim an apology for the delay. He looked rather harried but nodded in acceptance, which was the only gesture they managed to exchange before being swamped once more. As such, Aeode felt supremely relieved when her replacement, a woman with long blond hair, finally arrived to take over nearly forty minutes later.
Making her way towards the exit, Aeode glanced around for signs of Noah but found none. Granted, any shadowy corner or group of people could have been hiding him from view, but something else, far more dire, was back on her mind: Dez, and the only two hours which currently separated them. Adrenaline pumped in her veins at the thought, and all she wished was to get back to her apartment where at least she wouldn't have to pretend she wasn't nervous as hell.
“I see you're leaving early,” a deep voice resounded behind her moments after Aeode emerged through the front doors of the club and out into the crisp night air. It belonged to Ethan, one of the bouncers, whom Aeode gave a distracted look over her shoulder:
“Yeah, I only had to work half the night, and I gotta tell you, it sure feels great to be going home early. It's packed in there!”
“Yeah yeah, rub it in,” grumbled Ethan, while Aeode chuckled silently under her breath.
((ooc: I hope this is ok, Psyche!
))
Aeode was feeling slightly better. While the situation had most undoubtedly been an unpleasant one and the irritation had yet to depart, she felt a strange satisfaction at having been able to pry three close-minded, alcoholic youths away from the object of their ridicule and see them walk out of the establishment. Small as it was, it constituted a victory in the name of the underdog, one of the rare moments of solidarity Aeode tended to experience, but it wasn't only that. It felt good to tell those pathetic excuses for human beings off, take them down a peg or two when they felt most secure, not to mention find some sort of release for the pent-up frustration that over the past hours had been brewing inside her.
At first, the identity of the victim hadn't been important, Aeode deciding to intervene even before she'd recognized Noah's lean features looming in the shadows. She'd been more focused on the aggressors, but now that they were gone, a sliver of compassion towards the quiet, almost melancholy man emerged. He'd kept his calm, but there was no mistaken the darkness smouldering in his eyes, the hurt and anger suppressed within. Of course, the insults had been directed at who he was, his heritage, and he was bound to be more affected by them than Aeode. In a strange way, it humanized him in her eyes. That other side of him, the feral, violent one, was merging with the one she could see before her then, that of a man who'd shown regret, empathy and now proven himself capable of restraint in the face of gratuitous aggression. It was true that Aeode wouldn't soon forget the moments of chilling terror clutching her guts at the sight of tha snarling, crouching figure the previous night – that picture had been forever burned in her memory, but the image of the man Noah was changing. Evolving, perhaps. By the time she was conscious of the fact, Aeode discovered that most of the anxiety she felt around him was dissipating, and was being replaced with a genuine interest in who he was as a person, entirely aside from the vampire aspect. Having seen him withstand the insults hurled at him so very carelessly, it was easy to forget just what he was capable of. Aeode forgot none of it, but instead recognized his effort not to use those frightful abilities on those men. That wasn't the reaction of an animal, and Aeode could even admire him for it.
"It's hard to hold on to it", Noah said following a period of silence during which they'd both been busy recollecting their thoughts, “But you're a part of humanity and you helped me. I'm not sure I know why, but thank you.”
For a short while they'd been two outcasts brought closer by unexpected circumstances, but at the sound of those words Aeode felt distance increase once more. It was an insight into the way Noah thought, and even while the borders between vampire and human were beginning to blur in her mind, he still saw them as two distinct entities. Perhaps he was right, Aeode hardly knew what to think or what was a good opinion to form: she sought something familiar to relate to and when she'd thought she'd seen it, reaching out to it had come instinctively. At the same time, she didn't truly feel as though she was “part of humanity” the way Noah put it: she was human, yes, but she merely drifted through life, without taking root anywhere or becoming properly involved with the rest of human kind. As for why she'd helped him...the reasons were several, ultimately amounting to “because she'd wanted to.” Now, in the aftermath, knowing the gesture was appreciated, she didn't regret it. Despite the circumstances in which they'd met, this seemed a person Aeode might not dislike, after all.
“Though I guess you must wonder... why I couldn't do it myself." Noah added. Aeode straightened herself and gave him a sharp, affirmative glance: he guessed correctly, but hers was perhaps a different “why”. The fact that he couldn't savage those men inside The Haven was straightforward enough, but that didn't mean he couldn't have lured them outside in a dingy alley and unleashed himself upon them. They were drunk enough, confident in their superiority and in the mood for a fight, they would have leaped at the opportunity. Noah, though, was unaware that the one thing Aeode knew with certainty about Kindred was their struggle to remain beyond the fringes of human knowledge, which nearly had her sentenced to death.
“Look,” she began and drew a little closer as though concerned someone might overhear them, as unlikely as it was, “I may not know a lot about...your kind, but I have pretty much gathered that you're extremely serious about secrecy, and this is a very crowded club. Not that there wouldn't have been...other options. Whatever your reasons, I'm glad you didn't though: they weren't worth it.”
Whether she didn't think they were worth Noah's trouble or sacrificing another bit of his humanity on the altar of vengeance, Aeode didn't say, for she immediately became aware of the fact that she was still on duty and she'd been missing from Jim's side for nearly half an hour on an extremely busy night. Shifting to one side, she peered into the distance where she could spot the bar, nearly entirely engulfed by a compact mass of demanding clientèle. For an instant, Aeode had a vision of brainless, lumbering zombies, what remained of their shredded psyche bent on one thing alone, and had to suppress a private chuckle.
“I believe I should attempt to rescue my colleague from a horde of alcohol-craving zombies”, Aeode commented, smiling indulgently at the mental image of poor Jim juggling orders behind the mob currently obstructing him from view. Returning her attention to Noah, she continued matter-of-factly:
“Hey listen, is it okay if we continue this conversation after my shift is over? I only have about thirty, thirty-five minutes left. If you're still around, that is.”
Since Aeode had no idea why Noah was visiting The Haven or what his plans were nor could she afford to stay and chat indefinitely at that moment, with a final nod and a curt wave, she departed, this time pushing her way through the crowds with more vehemence and ignoring the huffs and irritated glances she was gathering in her wake. As expected, it was pandemonium at the bar and Aeode felt she owed Jim an apology for the delay. He looked rather harried but nodded in acceptance, which was the only gesture they managed to exchange before being swamped once more. As such, Aeode felt supremely relieved when her replacement, a woman with long blond hair, finally arrived to take over nearly forty minutes later.
Making her way towards the exit, Aeode glanced around for signs of Noah but found none. Granted, any shadowy corner or group of people could have been hiding him from view, but something else, far more dire, was back on her mind: Dez, and the only two hours which currently separated them. Adrenaline pumped in her veins at the thought, and all she wished was to get back to her apartment where at least she wouldn't have to pretend she wasn't nervous as hell.
“I see you're leaving early,” a deep voice resounded behind her moments after Aeode emerged through the front doors of the club and out into the crisp night air. It belonged to Ethan, one of the bouncers, whom Aeode gave a distracted look over her shoulder:
“Yeah, I only had to work half the night, and I gotta tell you, it sure feels great to be going home early. It's packed in there!”
“Yeah yeah, rub it in,” grumbled Ethan, while Aeode chuckled silently under her breath.
((ooc: I hope this is ok, Psyche!
))
#131
26th Mar 2009 at 4:05 AM
26th Mar 2009 at 4:05 AM
Flare and Aishe - Bookstore
The young looking, strange red haired Kindred seemed very disoriented as she spoke of the masquerade that way. Aishe thought to herself, this one must be a Malkavian, but responded outwardly with "That's right, we need to get you out of here until we can get you better cleaned up." Noticing the strange Kindred was looking back at the alley she thought perhaps the Vampire wanted to go in that direction. "Did you want to go down the alley, or did you wish to go to the bathroom, or elsewhere to make certain you are able to get cleaned up sufficiently?" Aishe felt like she was leading an elderly patient with dementia gently down a path she needed to go upon, or perhaps a schizophrenic one, but Aishe kept going forward with the plan because to not do so may lead to all sorts of havoc breaking loose. Then, as the red haired Kindred stood there looking even more disoriented, she stated a quite odd but true statement. "The Gangrel can walk on two legs ... they just choose not to." Aishe nodded in agreement, 'That is true, they do indeed. They often act very animalistic. And if you are implying that is how I know of your kind, you are correct. Being Gypsy, I have dealt with the Gangrel for much of my life. However, before we continue this conversation, shouldn't we get somewhere more private?"
#132
26th Mar 2009 at 6:37 AM
26th Mar 2009 at 6:37 AM
Fun With Numbers - Flare and Aishe
Go with her. She's safe. Trust her.
She.
Had.
To.
Go.
She had to go, check on the Kine she'd eaten. Just one more time, to make sure he was okay.
Why care?
"I'm a good girl. I am." She muttered it, walking quickly down the alley, not caring overmuch if the Gypsy woman had chosen to follow her.
Liar.
Maybe the sixth time would free her, maybe she'd know for certain then.
But it was never six. Six was an even number, it could be divided up. It had to be three, five or seven, and it wasn't five this time, oh no. She'd almost killed a man. That was grave. That deserved seven.
You know, you killed exactly fifteen people in the Arcade tonight.
"Did not." She knelt to check on the man's throat. It was healed. She KNEW it was healed. She knew it.
Liar. You would have killed the cop too, but that would have broken your little number fetish, wouldn't it? Sixteen has nothing to do with three, five, or seven.
"..." She pressed her ear to the Kine's chest, to listen - he was breathing, he was healed. He was.
Was that seven? Was it? She'd technically checked on his health eight times - she'd have to go to ten now, and ten divided into two ...
But if she checked his breathing and his heart one more time, and then checked his throat again ... ? That'd make seven times for injury, and three for general health. She could do that. She could.
The man began to stir, and she scrambled away, looking about frantically for the middle-aged woman.
She didn't know what to do with a conscious one!
((OOC: Sorry to be all spammy with the madness.))
#133
27th Mar 2009 at 4:08 AM
27th Mar 2009 at 4:08 AM
Flare and Aishe - Bookstore now Alley
Aishe followed, rather worried. She wondered if all Malkavians were truly this delusional. She also wondered what she had gotten herself into. However, in her heart of hearts she knew instinctively she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing.
She watched as the Malkavian checked on a slumbering man in the alley repeatedly. She realized that the Kindred woman must have fed off of him and was worried that she must have fed too much. She was compulsively checking on him. "Just like I do, when I am checking to make certain I have turned the stove off", Aishe thought to herself. The girl's got OCD! Aishe realized with a start. That, for some reason, gave her more confidence in how to handle the situation, since she fully understood OCD like behavior. Even if the girl's muttering did rather worry her. "I really should stop thinking of her as a girl considering she is probably older than me, even if she does look like one" Aishe couldn't help thinking to herself.
Suddenly, the man began to stir, and the Kindred looked around frantically, and Aishe realized she was looking for her. Aishe stepped forward from where she had been hanging back, watching the strange Kindred and whispered to the girl/Kindred and said, "hide behind a nearby building, and I will handle it, because if I am right, you probably shouldn't let him see you".
#134
27th Mar 2009 at 7:57 PM
27th Mar 2009 at 7:57 PM
Valerian, Melody, Moira and Connor
But, when it all came down to it, the choice hadn't been his to make this evening. Not without risking coming across as a difficult and temperamental child, and that was obviously something he didn't want to do. It was bad enough that he had been selfish and, in retrospect, quite possibly a handful with all his questions and emotional rollercoaster last night.
Thus, tonight, he had accepted the diminished chances of getting to spend the evening with Moira to himself, and so now here they were. At The Haven, the club owned by Moira's friend, a man that, despite his reluctance to think kindly of his rival, Connor couldn't deny was both pleasant and... well... beautiful, in a masculine yet not wholly so kind of way. Which in turn brings us to the young ghouls' reasons for agreeing to Valerian's request:
He had gone from feeling threatened, to feeling rather relieved and satisfied. Ever since first spotting Valerian, Connor's suspicion as well as his aversion towards Moira's fellow Toreador had been slowly growing, and ever since Moira had mentioned him as the owner of her chosen destination this evening, Connor had been battling the instinct to simply write off everything about the club as something he didn't like. Then when Valerian had first approached, his uneasiness had rapidly escalated and he had found himself feeling threatened, not only by the fact that Moira obviously cared for Valerian, but because he was Kindred as well and for all Connor knew, could be as vicious as the two predators he had encountered the other night. So, when Moira acknowledged him as nothing less than her partner, it put him a little more at ease, and when Valerian swiftly moved on from the introductions to not only genuinely compliment Connor - the young man flattered himself with thinking that he had learned to tell apart honesty and empty flattery by now - but also gave him a bit of an upper hand in actually asking something of him, that did the rest. People usually do feel so much more relaxed when finding themselves being treated as equals, and even more so when treated as something special, and after having been made aware of his worth (or rather lack thereof) in the eyes of most Kindred last night, acknowledgment and actual renown was something Connor was in desperate need of. Having yearned for a reason to feel secure, and having his worth acknowledged, being affirmed in the fact that he had something to offer that Valerian desired, made him feel ten times better about the whole thing. Better, and safer. Still somewhat suspicious - not of Moira, but of Valerian's motives for flattering him - but still safer, since he was being treated with respect.
Consequently, on behalf of his now recovering self-esteem, how could he be possibly be as ungracious as to turn Valerian down, and with him the possibility of even more appreciation? Not to mention the fact that it was likely to please Moira - who with her usually very keen perception of what was going on in Connor's mind, was most likely aware of his jealousy, despite his attempts to hide it - to have him make an effort to be both civil and pleasant towards her friend.
Within seconds of Valerian's request, Connor's agreement as well as Moira's had been given, and the three started towards a corner of the club, Connor and Moira trailing behind Valerian, who despite the packed club amazingly managed to lead them there without either of them experiencing any overly close encounters with any of the other patrons there. It was almost like Moses and the Red Sea all over again, only with a completely oblivious Red Sea, and a slightly more crooked path.
Soon, they arrived at one of the tables, and as Valerian stepped aside to make room for them all, Connor's gaze landed on the young woman that he was just assisting to step out of the booth. The first thing he noticed, were her eyes, blue and currently wide as saucers at the sight of him. Apparently, she did indeed know who he was, and had been shocked to find him suddenly just standing there infront of her. In a goth club, no less. Her pink lips were slightly parted, completing the image of utter surprise, and as his gaze kept flicking over her appearance in that first quick appraisal occuring in every first meeting between two people, he noticed both the rich, blonde locks cascading down her back and over her petite shoulders, as well as the way they along with the black babydoll dress she was wearing accentuated her thin waist. She almost reminded him of a doll, sans the plastic, unnatural details. In fact, there was nothing plastic about her whatsoever; she looked genuinly innocent and sweet, like a person you couldn't help but to like.
A rather drastic conclusion to make, he was aware, based on nothing more than a wordless first glance. But it was the feeling he got just by looking at her.
And it would be a lie to say that when after the initial introductions, she opened her mouth to speak, it made him change his mind.
On the contrary;
"Ah, yes", she said, launching herself into what started as a bit of an elaboration on Valerian's previous statement about how she had missed last night's show, but soon turned into proof that she really was a fan; "I had no idea you guys were back in the States, so it was by chance that I was at Envy last night. One of my friends however wasn't feeling well so I didn't get the chance to watch. I'm so going to your next gig though, there's no way I'm missing that! You know, and I bet you get this all the time, but it truly feels peculiar to meet someone whose voice I listen to on my Ipod all the time!"
There she stopped for a few moments, while her cheeks, already somewhat flushed by the heat in the club, took on a slightly darker shade of embarrassed pink, obviously, and according to her own admission as well, aware that he had indeed heard similar things before, and possibly thinking he found her to be rather generic. In which case she would be mistaken. Being used to hearing something was far from the same thing as having tired of it, and in her case, it seemed spontaneous, whereas alot of the time, it had been rehearsed by young teenage girls for at least fifteen minutes before it was their turn to hand over their tickets, cd's, posters or whatever else they had brought along for him to sign after a show.
"I'm sorry", Melody continued once she spoke again, "I think I'm crossing over into 'ditzy fangirl territory' now. It's just a huge surprise to see you here, I had no idea you knew Valerian. It's really nice to meet you – both. Welcome to The Haven."
By the time she stopped talking, Connor's eyes were twinkling with amusement at her charming level of self-consciousness, and he couldn't help but to give a soft laugh.
"Thanks", he said, both at the welcome and the obvious enthusiasm, and then added with a friendly, disarming smile: "And don't worry. I've had quite a few moments like that myself."
After all, New Empire's breakthrough had only happened a little more than a year ago, and he could still remember the first couple of times he had come face to face with other celebrities, some of them idols of his own, and the way he'd handled himself. He could well understand her reaction, even though it still felt a little strange to him, every time he thought about the fact that others were reacting that way to him. For while fame was bringing a slowly increasing level of arrogance to his character, for the most part, he still remained fairly humble.
"I'm not sure when our next gig will be though", he continued. "We just got off our European and Asian tour a few days ago, and have a couple of weeks off before we head back into the studio. But we do live here, so if something comes up, we might jump at the chance."
Having said that, he fell silent, and Valerian seized the opportunity to motion to him and Moira an invitation to sit down at the table. Melody took the lead by returning to her previous seat, and Valerian followed her example, while the other two slid onto the plush cushions on the opposite side, leaving Melody and Connor directly facing one another, and Moira and Valerian doing the same.
"I can't exactly say me and Mister Hale know eachother", Valerian said, seizing also the chance to explain the affiliations a little better. "We just met a few minutes ago, through Moira. Lucky coincidence, since I'll have to admit I didn't know you like New Empire until you told me earlier, upstairs."
(((ooc: Ghani - Sorry I didn't leave room for Melody to respond to Connor before I had them sit down and Valerian opening his mouth. I just figured maybe Connor's comments weren't enough to move us forward, and that if you want, you can have Melody respond to them as they're sitting down, before Valerian starts talking?)))
#135
27th Mar 2009 at 11:48 PM
27th Mar 2009 at 11:48 PM
Adrien & Lola - apartment
In retrospect, it was probably her naivete getting the best of her, but in those few seconds of waiting, she doesn't have a doubt in her mind that he's coming. When he finally emerges from the alleyway and enters the cab next to her, she places her hand over his. She doesn't even think about it cause it feels so natural to want to be near him.
When she squeezes his hand in appreciation, for some reason it doesn't feel nearly as cold as it really is. Her muscles relax, and she adjusts herself more comfortably in her seat. It's an action without guile, without pretense--an action that completely disregards all those lessons Lola's learned the hard way.
When her eyes meet his, there's something about gazing into those rich, dark orbs that makes her feel both at peace and on fire. Those eyes have seen one hundred and fifty five years, and now they were looking at her. Only her.
As she gazes back into him, she notices a flicker across his face. What was it? Discomfort? Those eyes of his glance at her hand over his, then back up at her.
Oh. Suddenly, she's aware of every square millimeter of her hand grazing across his, and keeping it there no longer feels natural. She lifts her hand off his to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear then folds it across her own lap.
"Are you alright?" He asks.
Fine, is the perfunctory response she wants to give to that question, but that's ridiculous. She's not fine. She's not even okay. Her world's upside down and earlier tonight she was almost turned inside out.
"I'll live," she responds with a soft, sullen smile.
Her hand lifts again to tuck another strand of hair behind her ear, and she suddenly feels the need to take out the naughty-girl pigtails she wears for work. She tugs out the hair ties, letting her long hair fall over her shoulders briefly before she fixes it back up in a single ponytail.
Several minutes of silence pass, and Lola's mind is trying to sort through everything that's happened. Vampires are real. Her mom might be in trouble. Someone wants to kill her. Her dad might be connected to all of it. She wasn't dead. She really wasn't dead. Even her side feels better, and she lets Adrien know it's stopped bleeding.
Adrien.
He was one of them. How many of them had she met tonight? Charming, the Smiler, the Redhead, and Adrien. That makes one basketcase, one sociopath, one psychopath, and... and Adrien. What kind of complex did he have? One hundred and fifty five years... what was going on one hundred and fifty five years ago? Victorian times--s***, was he a prude then? But... that was England. What was France like back then?
Wait.... could vampires have sex?
She shuts her eyes and sighs heavily. Don't f***ing go there, Lola. She forces her mind into another train of thought and digs into her purse for her cell phone again. As she's looking at the keypad, she hesitates. What was it? A memory in that alleyway, Adrien's toned arms in the dirty streetlight, and... and numbers? She focuses on the snapshot in her mind. One by one, each number materializes so solidly she can see it. It was a phone number, written in pen at an angle that he couldn't have managed himself.
She stares hard at her phone for a few seconds. Her eyes linger over the first three numbers of that other woman's number, then she calls her mom. Nothing again. Her phone goes back into her purse.
When they arrive at her apartment complex, Lola starts digging through her tips for the fare, but Adrien beats her to it. As it looks like the driver's about to pull away, she peeks in through the driver's side window and stops him.
"Wait. How much for you to stick around for thirty minutes?" She asks. They'll still need wheels when they're done, and she doesn't know if her mom's car is there or not. Thirty minutes should be plenty of time.
"I can give you thirty minutes for the price of twenty dollars," the driver says.
Lola rifles through her tips. "Here's fifteen now, fifteen when we get back."
The driver nods appreciatively then pulls to an loading area near the building to wait for them.
Lola goes up next to Adrien, following his eyes to the building with a sense of foreboding. "This way." She says as she leads him to the side entrance. Again, her hand trails behind her to seek out his, but she stops it halfway and brings it back to her side.
She leads him to the side entrance and swipes a key card through. The door clicks open, and sends them into an access stairwell. The entire building looks like it underwent a major renovation back in the 80s and hadn't been touched since. It's dated and smells like an old hotel with a hint of wet dog.
"Do you think they're here?" She asks hesitantly.
Then, looking up the stairs with a bit of reluctance and down the hall at the much more appealing elevator, she says, "I'm on the fifth floor. Do you... uh, wanna take the stairs or the lift?"
((OOC: Sorry about the delay. Hope that works out for you, Atropa))
#136
30th Mar 2009 at 12:45 AM
30th Mar 2009 at 12:45 AM
Adrien and Lola - Lola's apartment
Back in the alley, when Lola had sought comfort in him, shortly after she had woken up in his arms, it had dawned on him that while he knew how to care for her, physically, and how to keep her safe, he probably wasn't too well equipped to take care of her emotional needs. It had been obvious that he couldn't quite offer all that she needed from him then. And he still couldn't. But, even though he was still struggling with his own discomfort, for some reason, he was at least trying. Not because it was coming any easier to him, and not because he was anywhere near ready for it, but because of their own good, in order to help keep her mentally stable, and because he really didn't like seeing that dejection in her eyes. He was trying, and he had started with resisting the instinct to pull away from her touch.
Baby steps, some might call it, but to Adrien, it was a giant leap.
Now, as they had just stepped out of the taxi outside Lola's apartment building, he realized yet another thing that came with the territory of no longer operating alone; that he'd have to stop thinking of her as only a liability, someone that if he just kept her out the enemy's reach and close enough to himself to keep her from running off in fear, or panicing, she would remain passive, as far as his plans and methods were concerned. She was returning to her senses, and was once again clearly a creature capable of thinking and planning, not just reacting and following instructions. She was starting to take initiative, as perfectly illustrated when instead of letting the cabbie drive off and forget all about the rather odd couple he'd just dropped off, she paid him to stick around.
Merde.
She had just ensured that instead of easily forgetting them before the night was over, he would now have no trouble whatsoever remembering them for quite a while. Splendid... Adrien's plan had just been nullified. He'd planned to let this first cabbie drive off, and then catch another one a few blocks from here once he and Lola were done, to ensure that no one would be able to easily piece together the puzzle of where they had gone, by them being picked up at the exact location where they had been dropped off.
But alright, he'd just have to make sure that the next location the cabbie took them to, was not their final one; that it was one from which they'd then backtrack a bit, thus covering their tracks.
Though despite what was currently going through his mind, Adrien said nothing, for the simple reason that it wasn't the only thing going through his mind. He was very well aware that Lola meant well, that she, in her way, was being farseeing, and that this current clash of methods was his own fault for not telling her his plan. He realized that for as long as he was trying to look out for her, that there would be times when he'd just have to learn to include her in his way of thinking. Difficult though it may be for someone such as him, who worked alone ninetynine percent of the time, and kept his plans and methods close to his chest, trusting no one.
This was turning out to be quite a challenge...
"This way."
Having come up beside him and joined him for a moment in studying the building, as though the outside would somehow reveal what they could expect to find on the inside, Lola motioned towards a side entrance, and history started repeating itself as once again she took the lead, much like she had done back in the alley, when they started towards the strip club. And much like he had then, Adrien followed only a mere step behind her, while once again sharpening his senses to keep himself prepared for anything that might be waiting for them. He still hadn't had a chance to try and figure out what and who exactly they were up against, only that the Sabbat wanted Lola dead. How many and why, he still didn't know, and he would make no assumptions.
"Do you think they're here?" Lola asked once they were inside the building, the two of them lingering just a few steps beyond the doors while Adrien got his first impression of the place and caught his bearings.
It was a good question, and the exact same one that Adrien himself had just been contemplating. The place looked quiet enough, and the Sabbat usually didn't care much for subtlety, but that still didn't mean they hadn't been here. Or that they weren't still here.
"I'm on the fifth floor", Lola then added when he didn't say anyhing. "Do you... uh, wanna take the stairs or the lift?"
This time, however, Adrien answered, and he answered promptly;
"The stairs."
As though he needed no time whatsoever to consider the options. And he didn't. In his mind and experience, the stairs were hands down the better one. More options that way. Survival was all about options. In a stairwell, you usually had at least three; up, down, or through the door to the nearest floor. In an elevator, not only were you left to the mercy of technology, which could easily be tampered with, you also limited your space, and you let whoever might be watching the display above the elevator doors what floor you were heading for.
He did, however, realize that it was hardly the better option as far as Lola's wound was concerned, but she weighed practically nothing, and so Adrien would carry her if he had to.
"If it becomes too strenuous, let me know", he added, and started heading towards the stairs, but turned his head to look at her and make sure she was following. "Now come."
Together they started up the many flights of stairs, bound for the fifth floor, and once again Adrien had to remind himself that he was not operating alone anymore, since at first he had taken two or three steps at a time in a swift pace, unbothered by a human's weaker physique, only to have to stop and wait for Lola to catch up. After that error, which resulted in a few moments of silently chastising himself for having such trouble adjusting to the fact that he wasn't alone, Adrien kept himself behind Lola, and let her set the pace, which even though it was slower than his, could not be rightly called actually slow.
Before long, Adrien could push open the door to the fifth floor, carefully at first, with only a crack an inch or two wide in order to make sure the hallway was empty, before he and Lola slid through. With the door then sliding shut behind them, they paused for another few moments, while Lola pointed out which apartment belonged to her and her mother. From where they were standing, no human would have been able to tell, but with his vampiric eyesight and keen perception, Adrien noticed certain marks on the door that didn't bode well. That door had been forced open.
"Stay behind me", he said, and reached back to - believe it or not - seize Lola's small hand in his.
But only partly as a way of offering comfort as they carefully made their way along the hall, over to the apartment. For the most part, it was a way of keeping a firm grip of her, and thus be able to hold her back, should the sight of the door - once she saw the marks - spark the kind of dread in her that would have her wanting to burst through it in search of her mother. He didn't want to risk her running straight into the arms of another Sabbat creep.
Then, when finally they were at the door, Adrien reached out a hand, his shoulder resting against the wall next to the doorway, and twisted the knob. The door drifted open.
"Wait here", Adrien instructed, turning his head ever so briefly to give Lola a stern look meant to let her know he was not even close to kidding.
Though at the same time, he did also give her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, and then let go, before pushing the door open a little wider and entering.
(((ooc: Hope it works. A few notes though; if he notices that she's out of breath or in pain when they climb the stairs, he'll pick her up and carry her in whatever way she prefers... I think.
And as I was unsure of whether she would actually stay outside the apartment, or peak in, or even follow him, I left it open for you to decide. If she does stay, she'll probably hear him move around a little just beyond the door for a few seconds, and then he'll tell her she can come in.)))
#137
30th Mar 2009 at 2:39 PM
30th Mar 2009 at 2:39 PM
(((ooc: Everyone - Okay, due to the feedback I got when asking how long you guys want a night to last, and the majority voting for about two months, there are now exactly two weeks left. So, how does everyone feel about moving on in two weeks? Anyone feel they need more time, or will you/we be able to wrap things up before then? I'm not fussy about extensions, so just let me know. )))
)))
#138
31st Mar 2009 at 1:17 AM
31st Mar 2009 at 1:17 AM
Noah & Aeode Mallard - The Haven
Had he let the cat out of the bag, or was he just treating her like the intelligent being she seemed to be and deserved to be acknowledged as? Even though he couldn't just open up and tell her all about it, he could at least act like she had a general idea. It didn't really matter if she knew any details or not. She knew of them and their nature and that was enough for her to be considered a threat. They way Noah saw it, the Prince of this city had to be a merciful man to let her live, when others would have taken the easy way out and call a hunt. Though it might not have much to do with Aeode or even mercy, but in fact be due to Valerian's status in their society. She might be alive because of him, walking a fine line in their immortal reality with monsters under the beds.
It was a miracle that she was still alive. Either the Kindred of Los Angeles was well informed, more so than Noah knew, or Aeode really could take care of herself. However, if Valerian hadn't come to her rescue the night before, her blood would have been entwined with Noah's and still flow within his veins in this very moment. Again, the thought of the taste of her blood entered his mind. But this time it was different, she had a name and they had a conversation. To consider her food was disrespectful, but it came to him as natural as a breath for a human. He had to let it go, since he would never taste her, and he didn't want to. She was off limits and the only part of him that didn't accept that was the one that could become a wolf when he became old enough.
"Look", Aeode said, coming closer to him as if she had a secret to tell. "I may not know a lot about...your kind, but I have pretty much gathered that you're extremely serious about secrecy, and this is a very crowded club. Not that there wouldn't have been...other options. Whatever your reasons, I'm glad you didn't though: they weren't worth it."
Noah became very aware of her scent. He could pick it out of all the other ones that lingered in the stuffy air of the club. It was soft, a little damp, but sweet enough to savor. He drew it into his nostrils, let his mind experience and remember it. It was a new chapter to who she was, since it had a little new information than the night before. The first time he noticed her scent was when he followed her, and it had been that of a confident woman, though it had changed when she had become scared and ready to fight. Right now, she came through as sure of herself, relaxed and that this was a territory she knew well. She wasn't afraid of him anymore, though Noah had to wonder what persuaded her to trust him. It was probably mainly because the owner of The Haven had vouched for him and just a little because she believed his regret to be true.
"I believe I should attempt to rescue my colleague from a horde of alcohol-craving zombies", she said as if the very thought amused her, though soon became serious again when she continued. "Hey listen, is it okay if we continue this conversation after my shift is over? I only have about thirty, thirty-five minutes left. If you're still around, that is."
She departed with a nod and kind wave, had they been old friends, catching up. Noah watched her as she left through the crowd around them. She headed towards the bar, as he turned to exit the club. He knew exactly where to find the way out, as if this was his personal lair. It gave him comfort, a sense of calm to know that when he was surrounded he wasn't trapped. To cage a Gangrel would be to ask for trouble. Especially this one. Noah wouldn't go quietly into the good night, if there ever was one. He would rather burn out than fade away. Die growling instead of passing away in his sleep. Born to be a warrior, there was no other way for him. One of the best things about Kindred unlife was that he would never grow old, never be weak. He would either keep watching the moonlight or join the dust.
Outside, people were still standing in line, trying to fill The Haven to the brim with new souls. Noah slipped out like a fog, moved down the street and turned the corner. Though since he didn't know where to go, he just stopped. It had been murder in there, he just had to get some space, even though Aeode's offer had been tempting. He wanted to talk to her some more, learn who she was and maybe redeem himself. Show her that though there was only one Valerian, they were not all monsters. Some of them, yes, but not all. Though they all had the ability to be, if the situation called for it. Noah had been a monster, a creature lurking in the darkness, ready to pounce. He didn't consider himself to be better, but he had good intentions. He hoped that his humanity would stay with him a while longer, for a thousand years at least. If he could have that, then maybe he could reach the gods at some point.
"...it sure feels great to be going home early. It's packed in there!"
Her voice again, breaking through the city noise. Noah, standing with his back against the brick wall, peered around the corner to spot Aeode. What did she mean about going home? Had she lied to him about living at The Haven or just not told him the whole truth? Which ever it was, it didn't really concern him where she lived. He was more surprised with the fact that it had already been half an hour. It felt like the nightly air had just graced his skin a few seconds ago. A gust of wind picked up a few tresses of his hair and lifted them to cover his face.
"You shouldn't be out on your own", he said when she was about to pass him by. "It's darker than you think out here."
When their eyes met, Noah took a step from the shadows that almost had him hidden. He didn't mean to scare her, though it may very well seem like he was stalking her. Yet again. It was just natural for him to seek spots that were not in the open. Like an animal, he wanted to see before he was seen. And he liked the solitude when he was able to be invisible among others by choice. He knew that he might be misunderstood, though he couldn't always tell when that would be the case. For a long time now, he had accepted that he didn't act the way most people expected him to if they didn't know about his nature. Though even then, it could be hard for others to understand.
"If you still want to talk, I might as well keep you company to where you are going."
________________________________________
((( ooc: Atropa - I feel I could use more time. )))
#139
31st Mar 2009 at 4:02 AM
31st Mar 2009 at 4:02 AM
Aishe and Flare - Alley by the Bookstore
That was fine. She didn't mind being underestimated. It helped her. It meant people usually weren't looking at her when something important was happening - why would they? She was a child, not even remarkably reminiscent of a delinquent, past the blood; she wore a slightly dirty, white t-shirt, jeans with only the one hole in the knee (which was now fashionable, for some reason?) and scuffed shoes that fit just right for running at her highest speed, at least. She couldn't contribute much, they thought, and she couldn't understand their affairs anyway, especially with her nose in a book or a screen.
Though ... the Gypsy woman knew she was a Kindred. Couldn't be helped.
She'd been startled enough to help break the pattern, the unswerving need to check on the Kine's health. He was moving, living, she hadn't fed him blood, clearly, he was fine. Her fingers itched, her mind itched. She wanted to ... something. Count, focus - she was fuzzy around the edges. Had to ... something.
"Hide behind a nearby building ..." Of course. Couldn't go inside. Other Kindred owned it, she was staying out of their way tonight, wasn't she? "...I will handle it ..." She was Kine, she'd share the secret of what happened - no, she wouldn't, if she was like that the Beasts would have ripped her into little pieces, to preserve their secrets.
The Beasts could play at being nice, but peel away the human thoughts and the animal ones, and they were Beasts, a composite creation worse than either of their parts.
"... If I am right, you probably shouldn't let him see you." No, no. He hadn't seen her, probably, but she'd seen him, the guilt was welling up, the Voices would tell him everything, she just knew they would tell him how close she was to killing him, how close he'd been to dying, and he would point at her and condemn her and she would die ...
Nodding once, Flare darted further down the alley, hiding behind a building, almost wholly concealed in the shadows. Should Obfuscate, should hide better, but she was tired, and fuzzy, everything coming slow and weird and wrong. Besides. The Kine couldn't see her, probably; their eyes were weaker, they were daytime things.
She stared intently around the corner, but she heard things. Things like .... footsteps, quiet, someone didn't want heard, didn't want her to hear. The back of her neck prickled.
She.
Was.
Being.
Watched.
No, no, no ... this wasn't, couldn't be good. Maybe ... maybe it was an illusion, hallucination, they did that right?
No, it was real, it had to be real, she was being watched - what should she do?
The Voice turned malevolent:
Brace yerself for the pain ....
--
As for the Kine, he sat up a little straighter, looking dazed, dizzy. He patted his chest, feeling a weight on it, and held up the wallet. "Aw, man, someone stole my s*** - you!" He pointed accusingly at the Gypsy woman. "Wha're'you ... doin' here?" His neck hurt, so he rubbed it. What was going on?
His arm drops into his lap, weakly, and he looks at it, confused. He didn't mean to put it there, he meant to keep pointing at the ...
"Thief ... " he mumbled, weakly.
((OOC:
Atropa - I'm good on two weeks, why not.
gdayars - sorry for the massive delay! Hope this works.))
#140
31st Mar 2009 at 5:12 AM
31st Mar 2009 at 5:12 AM
Flare and Aishe - Alley
The man however, woke up and felt his wallet. He was cursing about someone stealing, then he muttered "Thief ... " .
He seemed to be indicating her! She decided to pretend she hadn't heard that and asked the man "are you all right?. I was just coming out of the bookstore when I heard someone moving around." She walked over to the confused gentleman, and started checking him over, making as much fuss as possible so he would be distracted from the Kindred hiding behind the building. "Should I call for an ambulance, or the police? Come on, let's get you inside the bookstore. What happened? It looks like you must have gotten knocked out and robbed, was that it?" Anything to distract him from her possible guilt, especially since she wasn't guilty, and also muddy the issue so that he couldn't figure out or start to remember, either one, what really happened. She hoped the Kindred could escape safely, she was doing the best she could under the circumstances.
(ooc: delay fine, just need to know if I can take over your npc victim to take care of the situation or if you have other ideas for him.
Also, 2 weeks is fine Atropa.)
#141
31st Mar 2009 at 2:52 PM
31st Mar 2009 at 2:52 PM
Connor, Melody, Valerian and Moira - The Haven
Something rather unanticipated was taking place. Moira, whose reasons for suggesting – or rather, deciding – The Haven as hers and Connor's venue of choice that night, had quite a lot to do with its owner, had still planned it as mostly a private outing. The first since Connor's return to Los Angeles, it was meant as a night for the two of them, with the exception of a couple of minutes she hoped Valerian could dedicate to an exchange of words. She did yearn for a longer conversation they could share at their leisure, but timing was everything. Right then, Connor had priority, and not just because of the trials he'd endured: Moira had missed his company during the months he'd been away. Circumstances, however, unfolded in a rather different direction following Valerian's prompt approach only minutes after they'd set foot inside the club. Much like Connor himself, Moira had not guessed the existence of a New Empire fan waiting somewhere at one of the tables, but still assumed it to be a relatively short interlude, something which may open up the exact opportunity she had been seeking. It wasn't until introductions were concluded and the two couples found a spot at the table that it became apparent that it would take quite a bit longer than that, time which Moira dedicated to subtle appraisal. From the moment she'd set eyes on the young woman half-raised out of her seat in search for someone or something - most likely Valerian considering the way she'd visibly flinched and nearly crashed backwards in surprise when he revealed himself to be much closer – she'd contemplated how perfectly she fitted in with someone with a personality like Valerian's. That she was human had been obvious from the beginning, and Auspex was rendered superfluous when the girl exhaled sharply in surprise and her cheeks attained a deeper flush. Her countenance in general, with its outward display of ripe, unrestrained emotional response to what she was experiencing, conferred a sort of liveliness, a spark that Moira realized she was envious of: Melody Hart was not only human, but completely and utterly alive. She could tell why Valerian was drawn to someone like her, for she loved something similar in Connor, yet his introduction had her raise a metaphorical eyebrow, considering he'd already referred to someone else as his partner the previous night, someone Moira had already glimpsed. The women, while both fair, were most definitely not the same, in more ways than one. Melody was mortal, and the woman at the bar had not been so, further proof of it being Valerian's concern regarding the girl he was trying to keep safe under Kindred law. Hence, it was a Kindred affair only another Kindred would be able to influence in any way. Secondly, the...difficulty implied by Valerian regarding his first partner's attitude, confirmed by Connor's experiences with the woman whom Moira believed to be the same person, fitted in no way with the bright, friendly person currently talking to him. If anything, they formed an odd sort of contrast, and proved interesting to observe.
In the meantime, Melody's first burst of astonishment was subsiding; she was getting used to the idea that Connor Hale was indeed sitting in front of her at the same table. As a first impression, she found him rather grounded and, well...normal. He'd responded to her first comment much in the same way Melody herself imagined she'd have done, while wearing a wide, friendly smile. This put her considerably more at ease.
"I'm not sure when our next gig will be though", he'd mentioned just before the four of them climbed into the booth. "We just got off our European and Asian tour a few days ago, and have a couple of weeks off before we head back into the studio. But we do live here, so if something comes up, we might jump at the chance."
“I definitely understand the need for a break”, Melody agreed, “I can't even begin to imagine the pressure of cross-continent touring...either way, now that I know you guys are home, I'll be keeping an eye out for any sign of a possible gig.”
Moments later, after the four of them had settled into the booth, Valerian was the first one to speak:
"I can't exactly say me and Mister Hale know eachother", he explained, to which Melody added a quiet “oh” "We just met a few minutes ago, through Moira. Lucky coincidence, since I'll have to admit I didn't know you like New Empire until you told me earlier, upstairs."
Melody didn't stop to ponder just how much of a coincidence it really was; Valerian's surprise to her, now that she knew had been entirely spontaneous, tasted even sweeter.
“Aw, you remembered!” she cooed and gave Valerian a swift peck on the cheek, followed by a soft “Thank you.” Melody then faced their guests, her beaming grin dissolving into a slightly sheepish smile in the aftermath of that brief display of affection which she'd been unable to suppress. Nor had she wanted to: her unlimited love for Valerian was not a secret, regardless of who was watching.
"I guess it's true what they say: it really is a small world." she added, amused.
For some time, the two pairs chatted casually, topics changing and merging together slowly and gradually as it often was the case with people who had plenty to talk about. Melody took the opportunity to ask Connor for details of his band's tour across Asia and Europe. She'd already read some reviews and fan blogs on the internet, but it was the little things, the details that only someone who'd been there could share that proved most fascinating. The work of an artist, be it a musician, a painter of actor, affected different people in different ways, and Melody harboured a fan's curiosity regarding Connor's own perception of his growing fame, developing career and most of all his music. She steered clear of questions deemed too personal for a first meeting, though it became increasingly clear how devoted the young man was to the lovely redhead at his side, the enigmatic Moira Sushill. The looks they exchanged, his attitude and the warmth present in his tone whenever he referred to her were not lost to Melody who experienced an additional epiphany when she realized this must have been the girlfriend sometimes mentioned in the media whenever Connor Hale's private life was the topic. She hadn't given it much thought before then, but it suddenly occurred to her how little was known of her: no names, no gossip, and mere glimpses in photographs here and there. Adding to that the apparent friendship Moira shared with Valerian, a friendship clearly mirrored in their interactions, in the colloquial tone of their conversation, she became a veritable puzzle. During the times her companions were engaged with each other, Melody conducted a closer inspection of Moira, having noticed not only the friendly attitude shared with Valerian but a certain closeness too, and despite being physically separated by the surface of that table, she couldn't help but feel that a strong and personal bond connected them. And, in spite of herself, it bothered Melody. In addition to it, there was something else about Moira Sushill that tickled her subconscious, a revelation that lurked just out of reach, until she finally realized what it was: her poise, elegant and graceful, was entirely devoid of the usual gestures most people performed unthinkingly: she did not tap her fingers on the table or her feet into the floor, nor did she sigh, stretch, fidget with her hair or any of the objects on the table and, whenever she did move, it was with a purpose, however small. It wasn't something immediately noticeable until you realized what you were looking for and Melody knew why: she'd observed Kindred behaving similarly before, the older ones most of all, it was one of the things that unnerved her about them. Then, as if to add fuel to that growing suspicion, she was becoming increasingly aware of a certain undefinable aura about her, a presence that Valerian too possessed, but instead of the all-encompassing warmth and adoration he always inspired, Melody thought she could glimpse a predatory glint in the depths of Moira's shimmering orbs, unfathomable to her, and there was a whiff of the ancient and arcane about her, like the vague traces of an exotic perfume. It inspired awe as well as apprehension: unless her imagination was running rampant and was exaggerating details in her eyes, several things suggested that Moira Sushill counted herself among the undead. If it was true, it certainly placed both hers and Valerian's friendship and her affiliation with Connor Hale in a very different light, and Melody found herself watching Moira for signs of breathing. It was difficult to do so without appearing to be staring at her, so when the opportunity for conversation presented itself, she jumped at it.
“Forgive me for being so blunt”, she remarked once she perceived the right opening for it, “but I couldn't help but notice your accent. You're British, aren't you?”
Moira merely smiled; she'd noticed Melody studying her for the past fifteen or so minutes, and she'd expected that growing curiosity, stemming from the conclusions the girl had to have drawn, to find release in an attempt to answer some of those questions. Whether Melody suspected what she was Moira could not tell for certain, but her reactions were consistent enough with that assumption; either way, it was clear that young (or was she?) Melody Hart wanted to know more. That she adored Valerian was obvious, and his deeply personal acknowledgement of her as his partner made it very unlikely that she was unaware of his true nature. Her mortality, combined with the affection she lavished on Valerian, lead Moira to assume that just like Connor, Melody was a ghoul. It certainly made most sense.
“My home is in London, yes” Moira confirmed. For all intents and purposes, she was British, if nationality was relative to the amount of time spent in one particular country. In that case, after three centuries, Moira could consider herself more British than anyone currently living (and breathing) there. “I'm merely visiting Los Angeles as part of...an extended vacation, and thus far it has proven to be quite an inspired decision. I'd been meaning to visit for a long time, it being Connor's birth place, and as fate would have it I had the additional pleasure of making Valerian's acquaintance.”
Moira bowed her head lightly in Valerian's direction, while both of Melody's eyebrows shot upwards: their friendship was that recent?! For a wild second, following Moira's confirmation that she did indeed come from England, she'd imagined he might have known her from those dark years of his youth, the period he didn't like to discuss and even Melody knew fairly little about. She wasn't sure which scenario was more disquieting.
((ooc: I hope this makes sense, if not or if there isn't enough to go on, please let me know. Juggling two character at once is tricky.
Also, Psyche and I could definitely use more time. ))
Something rather unanticipated was taking place. Moira, whose reasons for suggesting – or rather, deciding – The Haven as hers and Connor's venue of choice that night, had quite a lot to do with its owner, had still planned it as mostly a private outing. The first since Connor's return to Los Angeles, it was meant as a night for the two of them, with the exception of a couple of minutes she hoped Valerian could dedicate to an exchange of words. She did yearn for a longer conversation they could share at their leisure, but timing was everything. Right then, Connor had priority, and not just because of the trials he'd endured: Moira had missed his company during the months he'd been away. Circumstances, however, unfolded in a rather different direction following Valerian's prompt approach only minutes after they'd set foot inside the club. Much like Connor himself, Moira had not guessed the existence of a New Empire fan waiting somewhere at one of the tables, but still assumed it to be a relatively short interlude, something which may open up the exact opportunity she had been seeking. It wasn't until introductions were concluded and the two couples found a spot at the table that it became apparent that it would take quite a bit longer than that, time which Moira dedicated to subtle appraisal. From the moment she'd set eyes on the young woman half-raised out of her seat in search for someone or something - most likely Valerian considering the way she'd visibly flinched and nearly crashed backwards in surprise when he revealed himself to be much closer – she'd contemplated how perfectly she fitted in with someone with a personality like Valerian's. That she was human had been obvious from the beginning, and Auspex was rendered superfluous when the girl exhaled sharply in surprise and her cheeks attained a deeper flush. Her countenance in general, with its outward display of ripe, unrestrained emotional response to what she was experiencing, conferred a sort of liveliness, a spark that Moira realized she was envious of: Melody Hart was not only human, but completely and utterly alive. She could tell why Valerian was drawn to someone like her, for she loved something similar in Connor, yet his introduction had her raise a metaphorical eyebrow, considering he'd already referred to someone else as his partner the previous night, someone Moira had already glimpsed. The women, while both fair, were most definitely not the same, in more ways than one. Melody was mortal, and the woman at the bar had not been so, further proof of it being Valerian's concern regarding the girl he was trying to keep safe under Kindred law. Hence, it was a Kindred affair only another Kindred would be able to influence in any way. Secondly, the...difficulty implied by Valerian regarding his first partner's attitude, confirmed by Connor's experiences with the woman whom Moira believed to be the same person, fitted in no way with the bright, friendly person currently talking to him. If anything, they formed an odd sort of contrast, and proved interesting to observe.
In the meantime, Melody's first burst of astonishment was subsiding; she was getting used to the idea that Connor Hale was indeed sitting in front of her at the same table. As a first impression, she found him rather grounded and, well...normal. He'd responded to her first comment much in the same way Melody herself imagined she'd have done, while wearing a wide, friendly smile. This put her considerably more at ease.
"I'm not sure when our next gig will be though", he'd mentioned just before the four of them climbed into the booth. "We just got off our European and Asian tour a few days ago, and have a couple of weeks off before we head back into the studio. But we do live here, so if something comes up, we might jump at the chance."
“I definitely understand the need for a break”, Melody agreed, “I can't even begin to imagine the pressure of cross-continent touring...either way, now that I know you guys are home, I'll be keeping an eye out for any sign of a possible gig.”
Moments later, after the four of them had settled into the booth, Valerian was the first one to speak:
"I can't exactly say me and Mister Hale know eachother", he explained, to which Melody added a quiet “oh” "We just met a few minutes ago, through Moira. Lucky coincidence, since I'll have to admit I didn't know you like New Empire until you told me earlier, upstairs."
Melody didn't stop to ponder just how much of a coincidence it really was; Valerian's surprise to her, now that she knew had been entirely spontaneous, tasted even sweeter.
“Aw, you remembered!” she cooed and gave Valerian a swift peck on the cheek, followed by a soft “Thank you.” Melody then faced their guests, her beaming grin dissolving into a slightly sheepish smile in the aftermath of that brief display of affection which she'd been unable to suppress. Nor had she wanted to: her unlimited love for Valerian was not a secret, regardless of who was watching.
"I guess it's true what they say: it really is a small world." she added, amused.
For some time, the two pairs chatted casually, topics changing and merging together slowly and gradually as it often was the case with people who had plenty to talk about. Melody took the opportunity to ask Connor for details of his band's tour across Asia and Europe. She'd already read some reviews and fan blogs on the internet, but it was the little things, the details that only someone who'd been there could share that proved most fascinating. The work of an artist, be it a musician, a painter of actor, affected different people in different ways, and Melody harboured a fan's curiosity regarding Connor's own perception of his growing fame, developing career and most of all his music. She steered clear of questions deemed too personal for a first meeting, though it became increasingly clear how devoted the young man was to the lovely redhead at his side, the enigmatic Moira Sushill. The looks they exchanged, his attitude and the warmth present in his tone whenever he referred to her were not lost to Melody who experienced an additional epiphany when she realized this must have been the girlfriend sometimes mentioned in the media whenever Connor Hale's private life was the topic. She hadn't given it much thought before then, but it suddenly occurred to her how little was known of her: no names, no gossip, and mere glimpses in photographs here and there. Adding to that the apparent friendship Moira shared with Valerian, a friendship clearly mirrored in their interactions, in the colloquial tone of their conversation, she became a veritable puzzle. During the times her companions were engaged with each other, Melody conducted a closer inspection of Moira, having noticed not only the friendly attitude shared with Valerian but a certain closeness too, and despite being physically separated by the surface of that table, she couldn't help but feel that a strong and personal bond connected them. And, in spite of herself, it bothered Melody. In addition to it, there was something else about Moira Sushill that tickled her subconscious, a revelation that lurked just out of reach, until she finally realized what it was: her poise, elegant and graceful, was entirely devoid of the usual gestures most people performed unthinkingly: she did not tap her fingers on the table or her feet into the floor, nor did she sigh, stretch, fidget with her hair or any of the objects on the table and, whenever she did move, it was with a purpose, however small. It wasn't something immediately noticeable until you realized what you were looking for and Melody knew why: she'd observed Kindred behaving similarly before, the older ones most of all, it was one of the things that unnerved her about them. Then, as if to add fuel to that growing suspicion, she was becoming increasingly aware of a certain undefinable aura about her, a presence that Valerian too possessed, but instead of the all-encompassing warmth and adoration he always inspired, Melody thought she could glimpse a predatory glint in the depths of Moira's shimmering orbs, unfathomable to her, and there was a whiff of the ancient and arcane about her, like the vague traces of an exotic perfume. It inspired awe as well as apprehension: unless her imagination was running rampant and was exaggerating details in her eyes, several things suggested that Moira Sushill counted herself among the undead. If it was true, it certainly placed both hers and Valerian's friendship and her affiliation with Connor Hale in a very different light, and Melody found herself watching Moira for signs of breathing. It was difficult to do so without appearing to be staring at her, so when the opportunity for conversation presented itself, she jumped at it.
“Forgive me for being so blunt”, she remarked once she perceived the right opening for it, “but I couldn't help but notice your accent. You're British, aren't you?”
Moira merely smiled; she'd noticed Melody studying her for the past fifteen or so minutes, and she'd expected that growing curiosity, stemming from the conclusions the girl had to have drawn, to find release in an attempt to answer some of those questions. Whether Melody suspected what she was Moira could not tell for certain, but her reactions were consistent enough with that assumption; either way, it was clear that young (or was she?) Melody Hart wanted to know more. That she adored Valerian was obvious, and his deeply personal acknowledgement of her as his partner made it very unlikely that she was unaware of his true nature. Her mortality, combined with the affection she lavished on Valerian, lead Moira to assume that just like Connor, Melody was a ghoul. It certainly made most sense.
“My home is in London, yes” Moira confirmed. For all intents and purposes, she was British, if nationality was relative to the amount of time spent in one particular country. In that case, after three centuries, Moira could consider herself more British than anyone currently living (and breathing) there. “I'm merely visiting Los Angeles as part of...an extended vacation, and thus far it has proven to be quite an inspired decision. I'd been meaning to visit for a long time, it being Connor's birth place, and as fate would have it I had the additional pleasure of making Valerian's acquaintance.”
Moira bowed her head lightly in Valerian's direction, while both of Melody's eyebrows shot upwards: their friendship was that recent?! For a wild second, following Moira's confirmation that she did indeed come from England, she'd imagined he might have known her from those dark years of his youth, the period he didn't like to discuss and even Melody knew fairly little about. She wasn't sure which scenario was more disquieting.
((ooc: I hope this makes sense, if not or if there isn't enough to go on, please let me know. Juggling two character at once is tricky.
Also, Psyche and I could definitely use more time.
))
#142
31st Mar 2009 at 10:42 PM
31st Mar 2009 at 10:42 PM
Aishe tends to the man in the alley
Aishe led the man towards the bookstore, studying him closely and acting very concerned for his wellbeing. When she got him inside, she approached a table and sat him down.
"Do you think you might have a concussion?" Aishe queried, studying his eyes as if to check to see if the pupils were unevenly dilated. "You don't appear to, as your pupils are the same size. Do you remember what happened when you were robbed? Should we call the police, or do you think we need to go to the ER for you to be checked out?"
The man looked up at her blankly, still not thinking clearly. "I... I don't remember exactly what happened, everything is rather a blank. I must have been hit on the head, but I don't feel any sort of pain. Do I have a bump?"
Aishe studied his head over carefully. "No I don't think so, at least I don't see anything. Would you like a drink, I will get you something. Perhaps water or juice?"
The man nodded. "Yes, please, I would like some juice. I am terribly thirsty for some reason."
Aishe went and got him some juice, and then waited until he guzzled it down. She knew of course, that being lower on blood than usual he needed his fluids brought up. She then asked again if he wanted to turn in a report. The man nodded, his head already clearing. "Yes, I would. I don't quite know what happened, but I was clearly robbed!"
As luck would have it Aishe spotted a police officer, offduty, who had just entered the bookstore that was a friend of hers, and she called him over and told him what happened. She managed to convey in a subtle way to her friend that this one wasn't too trustworthy in his report without letting on to the man what was occurring. Her friend, the officer, took the report, informed the man that he would file it, and that he doubted anything would come of it, and asked if the man needed to go to the hospital, although in the officer's demeanor you could tell he thought there wasn't much obviously wrong with the man.
The man declined to go to the hospital for fear of a big bill for no reason, and so the officer left, with the promise to file the report. Aishe continued to fuss over the man for a bit, getting even more juice and coffee down him, and eventually saw the man to a cab, her phone number in hand, just as she had his, with the promise to call her if he felt in the least bit ill, and her promise to check on him later. She even paid the cab fare for him. He left, thinking of her as a good samaritan, deciding he would indeed call her later.
Aishe decided to go check on the red haired waif like Kindred and make sure she had truly gotten away. She was rather worried about her. Kindred usually seemed so much more capable of taking care of themselves, and yet for some reason this one didn't. She wondered if she was newly made, and recently abandoned by her Sire.
Aishe approached the alley, searching for the building the girl had hidden behind.
#143
1st Apr 2009 at 1:12 AM
1st Apr 2009 at 1:12 AM
Aishe and Flare - Alley Near the Bookstore
Eyes.
Everywhere, everywhere.
Eyes.
Watching.
Flare was curled into a ball, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face hidden by her arms. If she couldn't see the eyes, the eyes couldn't see her, but they were still looking, -staring-, peering at her.
She was shaking like a leaf.
The paranoia was familiar, familiar. She knew the terror of being prey, remembered it from life, those last fleeting moments, heart pounding and blood surging, little runaway child caught in the hands of a madman, a murderer with a predator's smile, mouth filled with teeth.
She was being hunted, and all she could do was shut down. Quiver in terror and wait for the trap to close, the shot to sound.
Stupid.
Up. On your feet.
She obeyed instinctively, she had no choice.
Don't look like much.
Don't know what he was thinking.
The Voice took on old tones, sounds and texture she remembered from ages and ages past and for a moment of creeping horror, Flare thought she was back there, little fledgeling Elizabeth and just learning to feed.
Oracles are important to us.
Be thankful.
The Childer of Malkav knew things, could be useful as far more valuable tools than shock troops, and so They took care of her, insofar as throwing a human to her once every few nights could count as being taken care of, and then listened at the door when her fevered mind started playing tricks on her - and - why - was - she - remembering - all - this - NOW?
You would have died already.
But you're useful, see, so you haven't.
Footsteps shattered her reverie, she looked with glassy eyes at the far wall. Coming, coming - the woman again, the one who didn't think she was useful, thought she was a child. A fledgeling again. It was her fault, the Gypsy woman for thinking belittling thoughts, that's what it was. If she'd thought of Flare as an ancient Elder ten times older than she, or even just a grown up, then Flare wouldn't be remembering it.
Whatever.
Whatever. She could handle this. She slid the screen out of her pocket, turned it on, silently. A few menus later, and the little black gluttonous circle was eating the little black dots. She knew the mazes, had played the game a hundred, thousand, times. Every so often, she would flick her eyes to her score, and a little thrill of excitement would shoot through her if it had mostly sevens, fives, and threes - or there'd be a tiny, sinking disappointment if it wasn't. Within minutes, her whole world was consumed by the little circle and the maze and the dots and the fruits and the ghosts.
Ghosts didn't look anything like that, some idle part of her mused.
Another part took in the fact that the Gypsy woman had finally arrived, was finally standing before her, and was staring at her, too. That was okay. Everything was okay now.
The world was in focus, and everything was okay.
"Hullo." Her voice is quiet, enthralled.
#144
1st Apr 2009 at 3:17 AM
1st Apr 2009 at 3:17 AM
Flare and Aishe - Alley near the Bookstore
"Hullo" the Kindred girl said.
"Hello" Aishe responded back. She stood silently watching the "girl" for a few moments longer. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, as you seemed to be having a bad night. Are you new in town? I don't know any other Malkavians but I have a spare bedroom that would be good for your kind, as various Gangrels over the years have used my place as a stopover. That is, if you need one. Or if you don't need one, I can give you my address and phone number in case you are ever in a bind and do need one."
Aishe paused. "Please don't be offended, as I don't mean any disrespect. I often allow my place to be a stopover spot for Kindred and humans both on a regular basis. The only thing I ask is that you don't feed there, unless the person is a willing blood doll or ghoul. Too many weird incidents and it affects my standing, my business and my very livelihood."
"By the way, we haven't been properly introduced. I am Aishe."
Aishe waited to see if the Kindred that looks like a girl would respond or not.
She rather worried about her, there was a frail vulnerability there that screamed out to her at some level. She realized that appearances could be deceiving, and that this "girl" was actually a predator, and no telling how old, whether newly made and just learning, or elder status or anywhere in between, but there was just something about her that made her think the girl was, well, emotionally delicate, and not just because she was Malkavian. Or maybe it was just because she was Malkavian, and maybe she was wrong, but her instincts for right or wrong were drawing her to the girl. "I may just be suffering from empty nest syndrome too" she thought to herself. "Oh well, time to bungee jump."
(ooc: feel free to accept/reject any and all offers Nekhs, Aishe's maternal instincts are kicking in lol)
#145
1st Apr 2009 at 7:59 PM
1st Apr 2009 at 7:59 PM
Valerian, Melody, Moira and Connor
Of course, if you're aiming for your character to get into trouble, that's one thing and then by all means, go ahead. But be aware that there might be consequences.
Also, be careful with what you have your character know. A human or even a Kindred character won't immediately recognize another Kindred without the use of Disciplines (Auspex, which, mind you, not everyone has), they won't immediately have someone pegged as an Elder, Metuselah etc, and the same goes for what clan other characters are. You don't instantly know. You might be able to figure it with quite a bit of logic and process of elimination, but you won't instinctively know. And, gdayars, I'm sorry, but there's no way Selene could've figured out that Alfmundr spent time in the Far East. She's barely seen him move, and even if she had, how would she know he hadn't just practiced martial arts in the US? You don't have to go to the Far East to do it.
)))Connor had no problem talking about himself. It may make him sound arrogant and self-absorbed, and in a way, it wouldn't be an entirely incorrect assumption, but for the most part, it was a trait that had sprung from the simple need for it. Over the past year or so, he'd had to develop that ability, in order to do part of his job - promoting the band, in any way he could - and in order to cope with it, as well as with everything that came with it. He had gotten used to talking about his career and his thoughts and feelings regarding it and everything around it, he'd had to get used to being questioned on social and political issues, and he'd developed a knack for getting along with most people, whether they be fans, reporters, other musicians, sponsors or just "common" people, as long as they didn't disrespect him, in which case his patience might start wearing thin.
It was quite the difference, if compared to his childhood self; a quiet, somewhat timid little boy, reserved and cut off from the fellowship of his class mates, partly by choice, in order to be left alone by them and their teasing. He had been a bit of a loner then, kept mostly to himself and rarely opened his mouth more than was absolutely necessary.
These days, he still didn't exactly talk people's ears off, but he did elaborate on his answers when questions were asked, and he was relaxed and comfortable in doing so. He'd even become quite skilled at safeguarding his private life, without coming across as curt or dismissive, managing quite well to either steer the conversation away from what he didn't want to discuss, or simply putting a firm but friendly foot down and explain that there were certain things that he preferred to keep between himself and his loved ones.
Nevertheless, despite his ability to dodge impertinent and nosy questions, he would always be grateful when he found himself not having to do so, and tonight was no exception. Melody, the young lady to whom he had just been introduced, though a fan and initially sounding alot like the majority of them tended to do, soon turned out to be the kind that he actually took pleasure in talking to for more than five minutes. She seemed to have a good judgement about what was appropriate to talk about, and what might be percieved as intrusive, she was sprightly and intelligent, and a pleasure to talk to. Instead of conducting a minor interview or trying for a pseudo-deep discussion in order to impress and pique his interest by appearing to be truly profound, she addressed him like a normal person, in what became a stimulating but normal conversation. And Connor appreciated it, perhaps even more tonight than he usually would. For the last couple of days, and to some extent even the last couple of months, few things had been truly normal to him, and so he very much appreciated the chance of a conversation between recent acquaintances, rather than between a star-struck admirer and an objectified idol. He was here as a private person after all, and not a celebrity, even though he had agreed to meet a fan.
However, he couldn't help but to notice the glances she would shoot Moira every now and then, even though she and Valerian would sometimes deviate from the conversation between Melody and Connor, and into their own seperate one, thus occasionally rendering them both outsiders to the conversation between the two blondes, and consequently not someone you would look at in order to await their response or reaction. Yet she still glanced at them, Moira in particular, as though she was secretly studying her. Connor saw it, because he could see his own inconspicuous glances towards Valerian mirrored in her eyes, in her entire demeanor. For even though the introductions had set his mind more at ease, that obvious, undeniable closeness shared by the two Kindred still burned his mind, and tugged at his jealousy. There seemed to be a kind of intimacy there, that Connor had never experienced with Moira, nor was he sure that he ever could, because he didn't fully understand what it was. He couldn't put his finger on it. And it bothered him.
Across the table, opposite of Moira, Valerian too had noticed the stealthy interest from the two ghouls, in both himself and in Moira, and didn't know whether he should be amused or worried. Insecurities and jealous suspicion were running high in their little corner of the club, despite his and Moira's constant reassurance in the form of affectionate looks or gestures, even words, and he didn't know quite how serious it all was. In Melody's case, she had seen him consort with all kinds of people before, and she was used to him lavishing his attention on them, but he also knew that the closeness he shared with Moira was one she hadn't seen before - not even with Claudia, whom up until this point she had seen as her biggest competition - and so it might be getting to her in a way that most of his other affiliations did not. And Connor... Valerian was even less sure of where the young man stood, simply because he didn't know him. He'd sensed his jealousy already last night, when upon just seeing Valerian and Moira together, there had appeared something dark in his striking blue eyes. And such a wary mind was not an easy thing to handle.
At the same time, Valerian didn't want to back away from what time he might get to spend with Moira. If he did, even if out of consideration for both Melody and Connor, it would be dishonest. Towards them, towards Moira, and towards himself, and nothing good could ever come from that. It might even begin to breed slowly growing resentment. Even if he himself had never felt prone to such feelings, he'd seen it happen to other couples, where one gave up something they desired in order to appease the other, and then it all blew up in their faces further down the path, sometimes far beyond the point of no return. Valerian was a sincere creature, he cherished and believed in honesty, and so to him, it would seem that the best way of going about things, was to be perfectly upfront, both about his friendship with Moira, and his affection for Melody. Hopefully, with Melody, it would all create at the very least some sort of balance in her mind, apprahension regarding his interest in Moira, versus his honesty about it, mixed with his usual affectionate ways towards his ghoul.
So, when out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed her reaction to Moira's reply, particularly the part indicating she and Valerian had only recently met, he gently dropped his hand onto Melody's on the cushioned seat between them, and gave it a small squeeze, in a tender attempt to soothe whatever worries that might have surfaced in her heart.
"It's been quite a while since last I saw England", he said, with a faint smile on his lips as though images of how he remembered it were drifting before his inner vision, before he suddenly blinked them away and turned to look at Melody with an excited twinkle in his eyes, of someone who'd just had an idea. "We should go there sometime."
They'd already travelled together a bit before, but always only within the States, since Valerian hadn't left them since before meeting Melody. The thought of England, and the whole European continent really, still pricked his mind with painful memories of Richard, Valerian's Sire, and the time following his disappearance. But it would be a lie to suggest that Valerian wasn't tempted to go back, that he didn't long to see the beauty of his home country again, and how it had changed since last he was there. It really had been so very long... So long, in fact, that his own British accent could barely be heard anymore. Somewhere along the line, it had begun to merge with the American one he used for speaking to most people, since an American accent in America didn't tend to spark as much interest in where he was from, as a British one did. But now, they were almost one and the same, and it was the British one that took a little effort to maintain, rather than the American one.
From there, as a rather natural result of Valerian's hinted desire to return, even if ever so briefly, the conversation then lingered on England for a bit, flowing from a discussion about the places there worth seeing and the things worth experiencing, to a bit of British history, and then finally on to British customs, and just the ways of the British in general. And it was in that discussion, currently regarding the generally accepted idea that the British were a most courteous people, that much to his delight, Valerian found the perfect opportunity for a few minutes alonewith Moira, as incidently, it was just then that the music in the club mellowed somewhat, to give everyone wishing for some slow dancing one of the few ten minute chances scattered over the course of a usual night at the club.
"Speaking of common courtesy and hospitality", he said, and turned to his beloved ghoul, after having briefly met Moira's gaze across the table. "Melody, would you mind terribly if I asked Lady Sushill to dance? As host and partner, I do believe I owe her one, and you the rest?"
After all, he still had no intention of breaking his promise, and devoting a large portion of his time to anyone but Melody. He'd proclaimed this her night, and her night it would remain. But neglecting a guest, and one that he himself had invited to their table at that, would be rude and very much unlike him to do. And he did want just a few minutes in private with Moira, to discuss the matter of Aeode.
"That is", he added and turned his pale gaze back to Moira, "if she will honor me with one?"
(((ooc: I know, the ending was rather cheap, but I just couldn't think of a smoother way to get us there.
)))
#146
1st Apr 2009 at 8:56 PM
1st Apr 2009 at 8:56 PM
#147
1st Apr 2009 at 9:16 PM
1st Apr 2009 at 9:16 PM
#148
1st Apr 2009 at 11:46 PM
1st Apr 2009 at 11:46 PM
Aishe and Flare in the alley
Selene knew that Alfmundr was Kindred because of auspex, but you are right the Far East thing was a big reach. I didnt put enough thought into it. As to why I had Aishe offer to call the police was because it was what a normal human being would do, and the man was already suspicious of her having robbed him so she was kind of stuck. That is why she called an off duty police friend over, and had him sort of downplay it and make it a nonreport report if you know what I mean, to cover it up without anyone catching on. It was a hard situation for a human to handle, and as far as Aishe knows, the bookstore isn't a Kindred hangout, so she couldn't go to a Kindred that works there for help. The only reason she detected that Flare was Kindred was bloody tears to begin with. Her main knowledge is of the Gangrels, with only scant knowledge of the other clans, but Flare is kind of obviously Malkavian. An easy one to spot.)
"Need help" the Kindred girl said. "I do, you could use some too. Couldn't you?" A hesitant, shy, almost-smile.
Then her face fell, and she continued. "Not from me. I've hurt people. I've killed. A lot." She swallowed. She wanted to be a good girl. That was why she'd come somewhere new, wasn't it? To change. To be a good girl. Could she do it? "I ... want ... to work? For you?"
Aishe nodded, thinking to herself, this might be the best solution, then she could keep an eye on the girl. Because she needed some serious help. She actually wondered how the girl had managed to stay alive. "Probably runs from town to town before the other Kindred can catch her" she thought. "Either that, or she is newly made, one, and doesn't know better yet."
Aishe then said "That is fine. We can do that, have you work for me."
The Kindred girl then said "I can't burn food for you, but I can make things clean? I can ... I can .... "
"I do not want to only stay for nothing."
"You can clean for me, if you like, and be my night cleaning person, and you can stock shelves for me at night as well. In return, you can stay in my spare bedroom. Just remember the feeding rules. No feeding in my territory unless the person is willing.
I will also pay you, for your time. I can't afford much, but I can afford a small amount, under the table of course, as I am sure you would prefer it that way."
"Please? I ... want ... to be ... like a child. A human youth. To you? And learn to be good. A real person, not a liar, not a lie." The Kindred girl seemed desperate at some deep emotional level.
"That is fine, we can pretend you are an old friend's daughter who has come to stay with me for a time for some reason. We can pretend you look young for your "apparent" age, and you are actually 18 or 19, so no one will question why you aren't in school."
"As far as learning to be good, we can work on that."
Aishe again wondered how the Kindred girl could have survived what with her flagrant disregard of the Masquerade, and wondered faintly if the Kindred had a "most wanted" list and if this girl was on it. "I wonder what I am getting myself into", she thought. However, she said nothing. Her desire to help deepened, because if she had ever met anyone that truly needed help, this girl was it. She just wondered if she would survive her decision.
"What is your name, I am going to need "a" name at least, so I have something to call you. Do you have a fake, human name to go by, or do we need to create one for you? I would have to discreetly check around to find out how to get a fake id made if you don't have one, unless you know how to?" Frankly Aishe didn't have a clue what all the girl would need, or how much she knew how to do, as she didn't have a totally intimate knowledge of how Kindred ran things along that line. She did have a Gangrel friend she was close enough to, to ask for advice. Although she was quite certain his major piece of advice would be to run for the hills. All she knew for certain was if someone didn't take this girl under their wing, something would happen to her, and very quickly, because from what she had gathered, in this town the Prince ran a pretty tight ship. That much she knew. Not much else, but that much she knew. Not to mention, she did have a strong worry about the human population as well. This one was definitely a wild card.
However, the girl was right, Aishe needed her too. Empty nest syndrome was eating away at her, and she was always a bad one for taking in strays anyway, human and animal alike. Might as well add a Kindred to the list.
(ooc again: yes, before you ask, Aishe must have a strong dying to become a martyr for a cause wish, as no sane person would attempt this lol. At least she knows she is insane
)
#149
2nd Apr 2009 at 1:33 AM
2nd Apr 2009 at 1:33 AM
Aishe and Flare - Alley
Pay - Aishe thought to give her gold? To ... actually pay her, for whatever work she could do?
That was new.
It won't help.
You'll have to run again.
Who will you eat?
"I'm ... "
You're no different than you ever were.
Stop playing this game.
Tell her who you really are.
She shook her head, powered down the machine. It didn't shut the Voice out, if she couldn't focus only on it. "I'm Flare."
Elizabeth.
You really think it'll be this easy?
She ignored the Voice. It wasn't helping.
What you did.
What you do.
"I won't have to ... talk? To people, sell things?" A shop. Shops were good, they were. They were human things, and that humanity would help to shield her from prying eyes, at least a bit. But they were also human things, filled with people, humans. Prey, her beast kept reminding her. Food, and nothing more. "Just ... put things away, clean. Right?"
Shed the skin you've worn so long?
Hide yourself behind a mask, a Masque?
Hope no one notices you?
You. Can't. Do. It.
You've already failed.
Don't try, it's futile anyway.
She visibly flinched at the words, the Voice becoming more and more hostile.
"Y-yes. I ... I need proof, of how old I'm not, so the K ... so other people will believe it. And ... " What else would she need?
How long do you think you can keep up this lie, then?
They'll hunt you. Over and over.
Two cities, now? Three?
How long before you're killed instead of just run out?
It'd be a blessing.
"A p-place to stay ... you said that already, right. Right." She nodded.
Face it.
You can't hide it anyway.
"I can't h ... That place, the book-store ... was another Kindred's place. You aren't ... to ... feed near there. Or places like it. I don't think." But she had.
Manners you don't need.
Wouldn't need. Why dance this dance?
No one invited you.
But everyone did it. She wanted to be a person. Like them. That meant following their rules. Dancing their dance. Didn't it?
If everyone greeted the sunrise, would you?
The Voice taunted her, asking her the same question human mothers asked their young. But ... she was a child. Physically, mentally ....
You're not.
You have centuries behind you.
If you won't answer to Them,
You don't have to answer to these pretenders.
Ignore them.
She'd lapsed into silence, her eyes vacant as she argued with the Voice.
Who are you going to eat?
"Who am I going to eat?" Her words are confused, disoriented.
#150
2nd Apr 2009 at 2:12 AM
2nd Apr 2009 at 2:12 AM
Aishe and Flare in the alley
"Nice to meet you Flare" Aishe said with a smile.
"I won't have to ... talk? To people, sell things?" Flare asked Aishe. "Just ... put things away, clean. Right?"
"Yes", Aishe responded, "that is right."
"Y-yes. I ... I need proof, of how old I'm not, so the K ... so other people will believe it. And ... " Flare seemed lost in thought as she thought it through.
Aishe nodded, "yes you will, but we will work on it, and we have a little while, hopefully before it gets critical. I have a few "resources" that I can tap into if we need to, in order to get things squared away."
"A p-place to stay ... you said that already, right. Right." Flare nodded.
Aishe nodded back. "That is right, a place to stay."
"I can't h ... That place, the book-store ... was another Kindred's place. You aren't ... to ... feed near there. Or places like it. I don't think." Flare seemed lost.
Aishe looked on with utter dismay, it sounded right. "Well, we need to check around and make certain you know all the places in the area that are off limits then, so another "incident" doesn't happen."
"Who am I going to eat?" Flare's words are confused, disoriented.
"Well, on occasion, you can feed off of me, but that can't be done every night, plus it isn't good to get in the habit I don't think, is it? I don't know, as I have never done it before. However, it isn't like you can do that to me every night. We will figure out a system, perhaps go over to a distant, bad part of town and you can feed off of the scumbags there. I know of areas where the police rarely go, but one such as you could go and draw erstwhile predators to feed off of, and yet, no one would ever question even if the person remembered something. Everyone would just assume the person was coming off of a bad acid trip or something."
"We will figure something out."
Aishe couldn't believe what she was doing. She was offering to be what her Gangrel pal called a blood doll, and it was to a Kindred who was crazy as all get out, and one she didn't even know she could trust. What was she thinking? She needed to get to a psychiatrist quick! All these thoughts were rushing through Aishe's head, and she was quite certain she needed to find her Gangrel pal soon before she went crazy herself, and did herself in via crazy redhaired waif like Kindred named Flare there. He would get her out of this mess, for sure!
Even while these thoughts were running through her head, Aishe made the next move.
"Why don't we go back to my place and talk about it, before any Kindred, cops, or other curious humans start prowling around, especially since I took that guy into the bookstore, and let him make a "report" to a friend of mine who won't let it go anywhere because I managed to convince him the guy was weird or a druggie or something. However, others might come out and start a search, especially since you just informed me that bookstore is owned by Kindred. Which I did NOT know, or I would have taken the guy elsewhere. Oh well, too late now, no use crying over spilt milk."
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