You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 26, 2014 22:10:51 GMT
The snow trickled down gradually, dusting the ground at first but soon filling the sidewalks and streets with a blanket of white. Decorative colored lights lit up the store windows complete with a maniacal Santa waving in a depressingly motorized motion. The rosey cheeks of Kris Kringle were grossly pink as his chubby plastic cheeks threatened to swallow his baby blue pin hole eyes. It brought no glad tidings and ensured that this young kindred would not be decking the halls.
Angela hated Christmas. Hated the holidays in general. She never saw a point when she was alive, and even as she stared at the dancing Santa, mocking her with his fluffy tipped coat and brightly colored sack of toys, Angela wanted nothing more then to set the cheeky toy on fire. She resisted and proceeded onward, admiring the window displays of book and clothing stores. The jewelry store on the corner was lit up with white lights, the diamonds on display echoing the beauty of the first snow fall.
The first was always the most enjoyable. No oil stained snowmen or black melting heaps. Just the fresh fall of gentle ice from the sky. Made Angela want to run out and by a sled.
Again, she resisted.
The cool sound of Ella Fitzgerald drifted toward Angela. A small pub playing her version of, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, brought her attention from the store display. Diamonds were never her cup of tea anyway. The smell of freshly ground coffee made her smile. Funny how the little things from her human life had been taken for granted. She'd love a nice hot cup of coffee, filled with so much sugar and so much cream that it no longer resembled coffee.
Angela felt out of place here in Muncie. Indy would be bustling with people and horse drawn carriages with the desperate need to rekindle the years of Charles Dickens. But Monument Circle was beautiful this time of year. Even Angela, in her state of grinch, could appreciate the lavish decorations the Circle City had to offer. Though she didn't miss the holiday crimes. Finding dead Santa's, their pockets and donation tins ripped open and ravaged by drug addicts, didn't really brighten her holiday mood.
The small pub and coffee house was a glow with simple lights and warm from heating vents. If Angela wasn't so flammable, she might consider a nice warm fire. The Pub was mostly empty, with citizens off in there homes preparing for the giving of thanks.
Angela approached the counter and ordered a large coffee, with a warm smile, as she unbuttoned her coat and got comfortable.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Nov 27, 2014 1:04:37 GMT
Sisco was hard prey to track. Unlike many of the other Kindred who had flaunted their new life, their power over mortals; Angela continued to cling to that mortal coil. And like any good detective, she knew how to lose trails. The real question was whether she actually knew that she was being followed. Black, hard boots fell against the alabaster white snow, crushing it underneath his heal. Fairchild exhaled loudly, forcing breath to roll past twin tiers of marble. Azure hues narrowed as his lower jaw jutted out. Where the hell did she go now? Nathan craned his head, a few locks of black hair falling against his pale features. He turned to look in the other direction, finally spotting the woman slipping into the coffee shop.
A dark crimson leather jacket hugged his figure, doing little to actually cover the athletic figure that resided underneath it. Black jeans hugged his lower form as he started to slowly make his way toward the small pub. Nathan looked around, actually making it look like he was taking in his surroundings in a careless, happy manner. His skin almost glowed in the neon light from the store windows. He lifted his head toward the sky, a few snow flakes fell against his figure. A small smile tugged against his lips. His gaze fell back to the pub. He shouldn’t get distracted.
Another loud crunch heralded his entrance into the pub. Twin bells ran out as the door smacked against the wall. The lights within the pub were slightly dim, but orange. It gave it a warm, cozy feeling. Angela could feel the pull of another predator, something twisted and dark had just entered this cozy place. The floor groaned in protest as Nathan slowly walked toward the counter. He leaned against his, pressing his hands against the smooth, glossy surface of the counter. Sisco could see the halloween gloves that he wore. The fingers were cut out, giving him better articulation when it came to using his hands.
He tilted his head forward, a few of those dark locks fell against his face as fingers drummed against the counter. He motioned toward the bartender, “Cranberry vodka” he hissed out. He smiled, his gaze slowly falling to Sisco. Nathan didn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze scanned over her figure. He burned that image into his mind. Angela could almost feel the beast move closer as he watched her.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 27, 2014 2:50:02 GMT
She paid for the drink, pulling a five dollar bill from her jacket pocket. Angela gave the bartender a smile and thanked him for the hot coffee. The warm glow of the coffee house pub was short lived. Even the as the door chimed and the gentle jingle of bells against the hand carved door rang out in holiday cheer, the kindred that entered, shattered any illusions Angela had at playing human. The holidays couldn't keep the monsters away; and as his voice hissed out, Angela didn't need to make eye contact to know who the beast resided.
Draping her jacket over the chair, she could feel those predatory eye sizing her up. Sitting at the table far from the front door, she sat, her back never exposed. The pub was decked out in holiday cheer; lights and mistletoe nested as center pieces on each table. She finally met those azure eyes with ones just as dangerous and dark. The glow from the table lights carved her features into deep shadows, pulling at the face of beast underneath. Angela folded her pale fingers around the hot cup of coffee. She wondered why he hadn't snaked away to lick his wounds. After the battle that had been fought, she wasn't wanting to see any of those bastards, least not this soon.
Angela didn't want to entertain this kindred and sure as fuck, didn't want to get to know him.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Nov 27, 2014 4:48:52 GMT
The bartender was taking his time getting Nathan’s drink. Nathan turned so that he was fulling facing the woman. She could see, even if he was smiling, the look of dissatisfaction that had started to roll through Nathan’s form. He licked his lips, his fingers toying against the edge of the bar. His fingers actually started to drum on the bar, clicking in timed response as he waited...
And waited...
And waited...
His eyes narrowed as the bar tender came back with his drink. Nathan flashed him that smile, and paid for his drink. He slide the crumbled dollars, one which was actually almost torn in half, across the counter for the bartender. He, of course, also tipped as well. He grabbed his drink, standing up with a soft pop of his back. Nathan’s eyes quickly scanned over the room. It was cute; almost reminiscent of an old German bar. More importantly, Fairchild made note of the entrances and exits to this small place. If Sisco had known that he was tracking her, she sure wouldn’t have picked a place like this to stop. She was almost trapped. And all that worked in the monster’s favor.
His heavy boots fell against the hardwood floor as that grin remained pressed against his features. His shadow fell over Angela’s table as he reached out to grab the chair across from her “Seat taken?” He asked. He didn’t wait for a response as he dragged it out, only to have a seat right across from her.
“So we meet again, Detective Siscccccooo.” said Nathan, his voice dipping slightly.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 29, 2014 1:13:35 GMT
Angela felt the steam of the hot cup of coffee roll up and press against the cold curve of her face, like the gentle caress of a lover. Even sitting across from this monster, the steam felt wonderful and eased her tension.
She sat back in the chair, the wood creaking as she relaxed completely, but never letting complacency cloud her judgement. Angela had a perfect reach to her side arm, her draw well practiced and quicker then this monster could rip into her with his vicious maw.
"I'm not a detective." Angela continued to watch him, "I wasn't excepting to see any of you so soon. Figured you would be else where, licking your wounds."
He wanted something, they all did.
"What do you want?" Angela didn't sound annoyed, but close to the edge of irritation.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Nov 29, 2014 1:36:14 GMT
“Ha...ha...ha. Licking my wounds. I guess that makes sense. I was actually working unlike a few people I know.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he did so. Sisco could see that Nathan was relaxed, but even then there was air of violence around him. Maybe it was in the way he looked toward the bartender, or checked the exits. “I want a lot of things, Sheriff. It looks like it’s currently not in the cards. But you know a lot about that, don’t ya?” said Nathan back to her, that grin of his growing in size.
His eyes remained locked upon Sisco’s. Nathan knew what the Sheriff could do, but he was testing her for now. “I’m actually surprised you came out alone. I shouldn’t be, but that’s your style. All...Gary Cooper like. Heh, I'm also surprised your sweet ass didn’t end up at the Orchid like all those other layabouts.” Nathan brought his hand up to his mouth, his thumb slid across the front of his teeth. Sisco could see what the beast was doing.
One of those sharpened canines bite into his finger, causing it to bleed. He set his hand down, his thumb grazing against the lip of the glass. It edged downward, letting the dark liquid mix with the crimson liquid that was already in the glass. He lifted it slowly, bringing it to his mouth. He took a long, slow drink. His stomach growled in protest. If it hadn’t been for the added blood, he would have thrown it back up. But he was able to keep it down.
Nathan looked outside, his voice dipping as he spoke. “If I remember correctly, didn’t your old partner use to love the snow?” He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes as he stated that.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 29, 2014 2:28:33 GMT
Angela let one hand rest in her lap, the other still warming against the coffee mug.
"I'm not the Sheriff, either." Angela let his dangerous demeanor roll off her back as she kept her cool. "I'm just another citizen of the great city of Muncie, getting by like everyone else." He kept flapping his mouth, and she might find him sexually appealing if he wasn't so fucking obnoxious. Angela watched as the monster parted the flesh of his thumb, blood coating his pale skin before he squeezed it over the rim of his glass like a lemon. She didn't flinch as he took in the drink mixed with the putrid odor of vitae.
At the mention of her old partner, Angela felt her gums ache, and her eyes darkened slightly. The kindred sitting across from her, plucked at a string that hadn't been played in a long time. He clearly knew Angela, or knew enough about her to get a reaction from her still poker face.
"I don't know you, Fairchild. But whatever deal you got with Ainsworth is all you got going for you." Pushing back her beast and letting her fangs slide back up in her skull, she pointed to the door.
"There's the door. See yourself out, or the next conversation we have, won't be a conversation." Angela really didn't remember this kindred. Any memory of him had been buried with her years ago.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Nov 29, 2014 3:10:40 GMT
“That’s funny. Me and Seb having a deal? Heh, wow. You’re seeing it all wrong, Sisco. What I got going for me is I got no one on my side. Heh. It’s funny you should say that about next time we meet. My original plan was to shanghai ya in your car. But...I was curious.” he said. She could see the struggle come across his face. He was trying to keep that grin on his features. Piercing blues locked upon dark chocolate eyes, noting the soft change at the mention of her partner. She had told him the whole sordid story.
He lifted his drink, motioning it toward her as if he was toasting her. “Is that a threat, Angela? Oh wait, lemme guess. It’s a promise. Or is old man Withers or whatever the fuck his name is going to try hunting me down?” Nathan raised an eyebrow in question, watching the woman in front of him. Nathan was trying to see what the hand in her lap was doing. While is probably nothing, he knew that she could easily draw on him. But at this range, it would only benefit the beast.
He smirked, slowly pulling the drink back toward his mouth. He had started to drink, only to stop. “I always thought you had better taste in men...especially when it came to....those types.” He took another drink, his eyes sliding shut as he did so.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 29, 2014 3:39:30 GMT
"Since we're in public, a threat will have to do." Angela's loss of memory had caused her mind to spin in delusions before. Flash backs mixed with violent thoughts, she was ticking time bomb. But Angela still held control, her humanity leashing back her beast.
At the mention of her so called personal life, Angela frowned and was a bit thrown off guard. She let her frown melt back a bit as she stared at him, her mouth parted slightly.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Names that didn't make since to her were starting to grind on her nerves.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Nov 29, 2014 3:50:35 GMT
He tore the drink free from his mouth, actually spilling a bit against the corner of his mouth. He brought his hand up, wiping away the crimson liquid. “You. Sebastian...ya know, Ainsworth. What’s his face. I can understand working with Sebastian, but the other one? Come on now. I thought you’re suppose to have a lock box for a memory.” He snapped his fingers, reiterating what he had just said. He actually chuckled, shaking his head for a moment.
“It’s funny. You pretty much got “Go Fuck Yourself” tattooed across your forehead.” He licked his lips, his gaze darting from her to the drink and then back to her. A bit of air was forced from his lungs, causing his chest to rise and fall in stolen breath. “That’s probably why you hang out at the Orchid...right?” He motioned toward her, lifting his head to nod in her direction. His gaze now focused on her features again, watching how the warm light teased against her porcelain like features.
Nathan huffed, now looking over his shoulder toward the door. For a moment, a frown etched itself across his features as the beast took in his surroundings yet again.
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Nov 29, 2014 4:13:19 GMT
"You keep talking, as though you know who I am." She used to have a steal trap for a memory, but the past seven years were lost to her. Angela curled her fingers around the body of the hot coffee mug, and tried to understand why he was poking her.
"Why do you give a shit who I do business with?" Fairchild glared over his shoulder, the door at his back getting to the little beast and that made Angela smile as her hands folded on the table.
"Are we done? Or do you have more bull shit to spew at me?"
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I'm a Nightmare dressed as a Daydream
Elder
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Post by Quinn Mason on Dec 1, 2014 1:42:48 GMT
With a shopping bag, a strange beauty walked into the pub. Smiling she approached the bartender and ordered a cup of coffee with a little nip of scotch. She pulled up her slouching bra strap and paid for her drink with cash. Once cup in hand she headed to a booth and set down her bag and purse on the inside of the seat, then slide in herself. Opening up her Ipad, she swiped at the screen and took a around. Spotting someone vaguely familiar she smiled and her eyes looked down upon her ipad, her one green, one black eye scrolling left to right. She picked up the cup put it back down and got something out of her purse. Pricking her finger she carefully picked up the cup allowing the crimson liquid to seep into the coffee. She took a sip and smiled, warm and content.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Dec 1, 2014 16:31:42 GMT
“Are we done? Not in the least.” Nathan hissed back to the woman, his eyes narrowing as he almost hunched over his drink. Fairchild’s lower jaw jutted out slightly as his gaze remained locked upon the woman in front of him. “Because me and you got history. And…” Nathan lifted his hand, slowly starting to point it towards Angela. “your business has a tendency to become my business. Especially when it involves people like Ainsworth.”
Nathan opened his mouth to speak again but it was then that the other woman walked into the pub. Angela could see how the mood in the beast changed. What had been bravado turned into sullen anger. Nathan turned his head slowly, that smile of his turning even more malicious than before. He tilted his head forward slightly, letting shadows darken on his face. He looked over his shoulder, a bit of air escaping from between his teeth.
“. . . and I do know you, Angelaaa.”
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You're gonna bob and weave out of the path of a bullet? That I'd like to see.
Ancient
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Post by Angela Sisco on Dec 1, 2014 17:35:37 GMT
Angela despised how he said her name, like something raw and violent in just speaking made her jaw clench as she held back the urge to punch the monster in the face. "We don't have history. We, don't have anything, Fairchild." Angela balled her hand into a fist and stared across the table, glaring at him as the shadows twisted his handsome pale face into the look of a face worthy to be call monstrous.
"What goes on between me, and Ainsworth, is none of your business, because you and I don't do business. Is this clear enough for you? Or do I need to spell it out?"
When the beast walked through the door, Angela knew her on sight. Of course this time she didn't hold a bundle of dogs leading her along. It raised her hackles higher, causing her gums to ache as her fangs threatened to bare themselves.
Angela's soft brown orbs grew darker, almost swallowing the whites of her eyes. Another missing piece to her past, another memory lost. If Angela had known this asshole, why would she do business with such a monster like Fairchild. Didn't make sense.
"You're a lying sack of shit." Angela's voice rose a bit, the few patrons in the pub lifting their heads from their drinks, or turning from deep conversations to see what had cause the young woman to raise her voice.
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Post by Nathaniel Fairchild on Dec 2, 2014 17:28:30 GMT
Nathan’s gaze remained locked upon the other kindred as he watched her from over his shoulder. He almost looked guarded as he studied her, watching the way she moved and mimicked life. Victim. That's what it screamed the monster within him. And it hungered. His icy gaze slowly started to fall back to Sisco. His cold gaze met her dark glare. That grin still remained, mocking the kindred around him. Fingers teased against the surface of his glass before tightening around the cup.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, Angela. A lot of your business deals with me directly. Especially when you deal with holier than thou pricks…” He snapped back. The thing in front of her just screamed predator. It was there in his gaze, his over the top movements, everything just screamed that something was off about him. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I know a lot about you. Like your work in the past; like how you approach situations in a tactical manner. I also know how dangerous you can be. Or shall we go more personal? Your detective partner, and your dallying romance toward him. Or how one particular person stole that from you.”
Nathan looked up for a moment. He was making a show of this, that was for certain. He actually did a mocking huff as if he was really straining himself. “Or we could go into your friendship with Estherrrr.” He turned slowly so that he was facing her. A few dark locks of hair brushed against his features again as he lifted his drink. He took a slow drink from it, savoring the taste of blood. Even if it was his own.
“Or shall I go into your pining romance for Gabriel.”
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