Comings and Goings [Tytonidae]

[Nyla]

Nyla: [Text] Do you feel the aftereffects of your possession yet? Have you spoken in tongues?

Meka Vassey: [Text] LOLZ! Damn you! Girl, you watch, revenge is best served cold. Sorry, didn't reply earlier. Phone Fail!

Nyla: The blonde slipped her phone out of her pocket at the annoying beeping sound. It was probably a bad idea to not have it on silent, considering where she was, but oh well. The slight scowl that had accompanied the sounding of her phone turned into a grin as she saw who it was from, the grin only widening as she read the content and sent a reply of her own.

[Text] I'll be waiting! Oh hey! Do you know anything about Mario Carts? It apparently has banana peels in it?

Meka Vassey: Meka was in the raid building and there were old *** zombie roaming about when her phone beeped and she pulled it out. It was an iphone, a black one and she'd bought it a cover, more black, with a touch of silver that looked like beaten chrome. She thumbed the screen on and with one finger responded, her gun held loosely in the other hand.

[Text] Girl, I'm killing undead things and making a mint on these keys... what you doing? Playing Maria? Joo crazy. I played it a few times, not that good though. What up?

Nyla: [Text] You’re selling keys! How many of them have I bought? I got sick of having to shift through those skeletors. And I'm not playing Mario now... But I've never played this Mario Cart thing and I was going to buy it when I'm done here. Wanna play?

Meka Vassey: [Text] Umm well, I've sold, one? Two? Not sure
[Text] Sure
[Text] Where you at?
[Text] I suck at video games
[Text] I yell at the screen when it doesn't do what I want it to. I fail.

Nyla: She'd been typing out a reply when her phone beeped again. And then again. And again. She was surprised none of the mutant beasts had come out of the woodwork to try and eat her with the noise. She waited as the beeps stopped coming, before going back to writing out her reply.

[Text] I've probably spent 20k at least in the stupid things so far. And I'm not so good either, I never really played much. So I'm sure it'll be okay if you yell at the screen. Maybe I will too?

Meka Vassey: [Text] Damn right then, I'll be there in... an hour?
[Text] I want one more key and then I'll put that up on auction before I come
[Text] Where you at?
[Text] Hey, you spent how much? JESUS, next time just give that to me and I"ll be giving you damn keys.
[Text] Do you eat? I can bring something over
[Text] You can yell at the screen. It's fun, like talking to the movie screen at the movies. Or singing along to Disney movies, it's FUN

Nyla: [Text] O.o Tonight? I don't know about that quick. I was thinking about making advanced plans or something. I haven't even bought the game yet. And I don't have a TV. I'm stuck up on level 3 right now, so I don't even think I'll be able to do it that soon! Gosh you move fast woman.

Meka Vassey: [Text] Oh k, later then
[Text] If you eat I can bring the eats
[Text] I can't bring eats if you don’t eat cause, I aint bringing a human to be our super snack - ew
[Text] Do we drink bottled blood?
[Text] Oh F3 really? I can't get off this floor, the other beasties kick my ***

Nyla: Nyla was amused, which was surely showing in the way her lip was curled up in a smirk. She read through each of the new texts twice before typing out a reply, hoping she answered each of the woman's texts and hadn't left anything out. She should have expected this, really, considering how Meka was in person.

[Text] I do eat, but I've got stuff. You can bring treats if you want to though. I have some bottled blood too. It's good to keep that stuff around for emergencies. And yes! I'm on third. This is where I spent the daylight hours earlier too. I miss my pillows.

Meka Vassey: [Text] Kay, so let me know when and I'll be there. You be good now? Y'hear?

Nyla: [Text] Sounds like a plan! I'll poke you when I have it set up and stuff. And I'm always good. Pfft.

[Tameka Vassey (DELETED 4152)]

Meka Vassey: [Text] WTF did you just do to me?

[Text] I feel all... tingly and ****

Chaindog:‎ I gave you a pep talk

Meka Vassey: [Text] Is that what they call it now days?

Chaindog:‎ Its gunna help you out with training

Meka Vassey: [Text] That's some dodgy ****

Chaindog:‎ Yeah

Meka Vassey: [Text] How does tinglies help me do stuff?

Chaindog:‎ ‎ But it ends at sunrise

Well you will be stronger, faster and a bit more...Charming

Meka Vassey: [Text] So you dun give me temporary tingles to make me better at stuff?

Chaindog:‎ Yes

Meka Vassey: [Text] *smiley face" Like I need to be more charming than what I am

[Text] Has got truck loads of damn charm.

[Text] How you Dawg?

Chaindog:‎ Im good. Just got done training a bit myself

Meka Vassey: [Text] I'm better at shooting now, want me to shoot you and show you? I got me my own paintball gun now.

Chaindog:‎ If you wanna wash my good clothing sure

Meka Vassey: [Text] O. O I aint your wash lady. Well, I could just try to shoot you shoot you, but I'm pretty sure Velveteen will kick my ***.

Chaindog:‎ And I would have to return fire

Meka Vassey: [Text] That sounds painful. Can't you just stand there and take it?

Chaindog:‎ Sure could

Meka Vassey: ‎ [Text] Will you?

Chaindog:‎ Sure

Meka Vassey: ‎ [Text] For reals?

[Text] Hot damn

Chaindog:‎ If you can get me..Sure

Meka Vassey: ‎ [Text] I'll be right there!
‎ *pockets phone and heads on over*
Chaindog:‎ Ill be waiting

Meka Vassey: ‎ *grins and smiles at him as she swings into the Deserted Firehouse. "Hey Dawg, hold your ***... it's gonna be a bumpy ride"
Meka pauses, standing in front of him. "So.. before we do this, cause, you know, it feels like I should be certain. You okay with me... using my skills on you to kick your ***?"

Chaindog:‎ If you can hit me...Go for it. I cant promise I wont stike back though. Depends on the wound ~laughs~

Meka Vassey: *plans to hit and then run the hell away in that case*
‎ "Okay!" She cheered, hold what your Momma gave ya.

You fire wildly at Chaindog, but your aim is poor.
You do, however, hit them once in the leg, tripping them up.
Chaindog automatically attacked in retaliation, but missed!

‎ Chaindog:‎

Current Wounds
Wound: Gunshot (leg)
Affected: dexterity (-3 pts)
Remaining: 1 days
Given by: Tameka Vassey

Chaindog:‎ Now im going to drink some blood

Meka Vassey: YES!
Hot damn Dawg, I got you in the leg~!
*follows after you chattering away*

Chaindog:‎ ~limps away~
Ahh much better

Meka Vassey: "Well, that was fun Dawg, can we do it again? Maybe not right away, but soon? I'll let you shoot back again... even if you do miss." She said cheekily keeping him company while he went to get dinner

Chaindog:‎ Your skills have improved. Im so pleased
Sure. We will have to spar sometime with paintguns

Meka Vassey: Nods and gives him an impish grin. "Damn right we should... Okay, better get back to it, supposed to meet with Velveteen soon. Night Dawg, say hello to Abelle for me."

Chaindog:‎ Be good Meka. Keep up the good work. And I will

[Tameka Vassey (DELETED 4152)]

Doc: *text* I want to learn this ps3 ****. Can you show me?

Meka Vassey: [Text] Have you lost your damn mind? You don't even like me, why you wanna come learn PS3 with me? You got a mandate to olive branch my ***?

Doc: *text* **** no. I want to know what the hell people are talking about. You can say no.. I wont care

Meka Vassey: [Text] No.
[Text] Oh **** it, okay
[Text] Grumpy old ********, don't know why you wanna learn it anyway. They don't make Atari no more.
[Text] You got a game you wanna learn?

Doc: *text* what the **** is Atari?

Meka Vassey: [Text] Where the **** was the rock you were living under?

Doc: *text* its called Med School.

Meka Vassey: [Text] Dude, unless you went to Med School in the back side of Siberia, you crazy.
[Text] Anyway, what kind of game?'
[Text] Guns blasting, shoot **** up?
[Text] Racing, fast cars loose women?
[Text] Epic Roleplay ?

Doc: *text* Guns

Meka Vassey: [Text] Yo Momma shoulda bought you more toys man.
[Text] Okay, I got Halo
[Text] When you free? I'll plan to kick your Halo ***.

Doc: *text* Tomorrow night? *he had to get away from Psycho anyway.. good reasson..*

Meka Vassey: [Text] Sure, see you at my hut.
[Text] I'll keep the door open.
[Text] 8pm work?

Doc: *text* yes.

Meka Vassey: Meka looked at her phone and shook her head before putting it away. She didn't know what the hell was going on but something was. That man was about as sociable as a rattlesnake and she wondered, despite what he'd said, if someone had told him to get over there and suck the hell up. Some sort of, be nice to the people, order from higher up.

Shrugging her backpack over her shoulder Meka moved through the Catacombs, the weapon dropped to her side as she went on about her business. "That man, I think he got a bit o' crazy in 'im. For real."

Doc: Doc was somewhat happy.. He had a decent excuse for avoiding Cyth. Faction time. Training. She sure as hell didn't need to know what he was training. And if she asked.. He could honestly say, "gun training..." and it wouldn't be a lie. Yes. The next two days.. save a few hours with the Mouth.. would be blissfully quiet.

[Tameka Vassey (DELETED 4152)]

‹Tameka Vassey› Meka was a bit damn nervous, although she wasn't sure why. She figured it was because the dude was so slipperly she knew there had to be an alternate reason he'd asked. It about knocked her over with a feather when he'd said he wanted to learn PS3 and the excuse seemed so flimsy it was almost transparent. But transparent to do what? She just couldn't see how playing PS3 with her was going to benefit anyone, least of all each other. She felt there was a MacGuffin somewhere in this story and she suspected she might well be it. Shrugging she set out the controls and jacked in the new console into the new flat screen. She flipped Halo into the slot and sat on the sectional getting it set up. Meka got him started, single player campaign first. See how he did against the covenant alients before she threw him into multiplayer and kicked his newbie ***.

‹Doc› Doc had spent the last few hours hauling his clothes and weapons to the hut. He left enough at the two apartments and lab to have things to change into if needed, but the bulk was now at the Hut. Moving stuff was a pain in the ***. And doing without Psycho realizing was even more of a pain in the ***. He had left her a note that he would be ‘away’ for a few days, but damn if she didn’t catch him at the depot. Dammit. But luckily he was empty handed and she was none the wiser. Now all he had to do was spend an hour or so with Blackula.. and alibi was intact. At the appointed time, Doc showed up at Blackula’s hut, he was still in his suit, but he had lost the tie, as he felt this was a somewhat ‘relaxed’ thing. A tie wasn’t necessary. He knocked. She was expecting him, but he felt odd just barging in. Protocols of politeness still had to be followed.

‹Tameka Vassey› “It’s open.” She called, looking up as he entered, her eyebrows raising exponentially at what he wore. “I swear, you’re not going to make a believable Halo gamer if you’re going to go about it in a suit.” She tossed at him when she took in his get up. She on the other hand had opted for the requisite thin trackies, tank top and bare feet. Well, it was her own hut so she figured she was allowed a degree of comfort and this was it. Her zipper sweatshirt lay over the back of the couch just in case she got cold, her hair, all small plaited pulled off her face. “I mean, my God man, what have you done, just got home from the office? You dress like a lawyer, not like any Doctor I’ve ever met.” Which to be fair had been mostly OB/GYN’s and they were a rare breed on their own. She motioned him over, making room on the couch, tucking a leg up under her ***. She held out the controller for him. “Well, come on then.. I don’t bite.”

"So..." she asked, still holding out the control for him to take. "Why the hell are you here? And don't tell me it because you want to learn how to play Halo... I just aint buying it."

‹Doc› “You don’t? I do.. “ he smirked as moved to the couch and sat down. And he glanced at his attire. He liked to look nice. He looked nice in a suit. He also passed for a businessman at dark when the pubs and clubs were open. Granted his suit did tend stick out in some locations in the wee hours of the morning, but the simple explanation that his car had broken down had always worked. Blackula held a control for him, and he took it, as she gave him a knowing look and question his true motived. “You’re my alibi.” He said simply, before studying the control, and then looking at her. “I thought we were doing guns?”

‹Tameka Vassey› She shook her head. “Well, sometimes, you got to get the hell out of the monkey suit and join the real world.” She replied quickly. Relinquishing the control she gave him the controller map she’d made, so he could look it over. Alibi? Well, at least that made some sense and it made her feel better. Except now she was just all curious as get out. Alibi could mean lots of things. He coulda killed something or someone and lets face it, in this world they lived in now she figured that might be more the case than not. “Look over the controller map, it’ll tell you what buttons do what… it’ll help and we’ll run through a solo campaign first.” Leaning forward she set the machine and then got herself comfortable. “This is a gun game… one hell of a fast moving gun game… so hope you got yourself some good hand eye coordination.” She teased…. “And while you’re doing that… tell me all about this alibi I’m meant to be giving you.. who did you kill?”

‹Doc› Doc looked at the controller, buttons? What the ****. Guns didn’t have buttons. He frowned, this wasn’t going the cake walk he envisioned. Yea he had great eye hand coordination, you had to in the type of delicate surgery he did…, he had done in the past. Often times he was looking through an eye piece while his hands maneuvered tiny scopes on thin wires through veins. So he wasn’t worried about eye hand, but the controller was odd shaped and didn’t rest easy in his hand like his Sig did. He absently replied to Blackula’s question, because his main attention was on the controller and the map, “No one this time.. got ******* married.. “

‹Tameka Vassey› It wasn’t that she was a great Halo player. Hell, it’s not even the truth she could do that well in the game. But she’d had enough boyfriends who’d spent some time on a console swearing at some ‘Arbiter ***********’ on the other side of a multiplayer gun fight that she’d needed to learn to jump in and play a bit or find herself picking her nose for the few hours some games took. Married? She looked at his askance. “Well, don’t have to sound so damn happy it…” she replied acerbically. He just didn’t seem quite right in head. When he wasn’t being a stuck up pain in the ***, he turned around, asked her to play PS3 and then proceeded to announce, in about as bland a way as a man announcing his dog died, that he’d just got hitched. “Don’t you think you should be off somewhere… on a honeymoon, bonking like a rabbit like any normal man?” she asked. Meka reached over and pressed the button on the control to start the campaign.

“Use the cross-hair in the centre of the screen.. watch the red marks.. that’s a covenant shooting you the hell back. Watch your shield and your ammo, and don’t forget your grenades.” Going back to making herself comfortable she crossed her arms, “You got yourself a wife, but are sitting here with me… playing PS3. You don’t think there’s anything wrong with this picture?

‹Doc› Doc tried to hold the controller like she was, but kept wanting to aim it like a gun. He grunted his displeasure as he missed, “****!” He counted, it was med school, just answer her, don’t stress, relax. “It’s not that kind of marriage.. she’s just a kid.” He missed again “GOD DAMMIT!” he forced himself to relax, “If I made a move on her, it would scare the **** out of her.. she’d cry or worse cut my leg off…” He looked at the map quickly tried to toss a grenade. It missed “Fuckkkkkk.” He was a silent as he moved around on the game “People find this **** fun?!” he growled, as he glared at the screen. “Sides, I don’t think she cares for that sort of thing.. why else would she want a ******* ******** like me?”

‹Tameka Vassey› Meka had grown up with parents that loved one another. They fought with the passion of two people who had known eachother intimately for years and they loved with the same sort of enduring tenacity. Marriage to her was one of the sacred convenants. Hell, she hadn’t planned on getting herself all tied up in one man for a while and while her parents had never said outright not to, she’d always been given a pretty healthy view on relationships. If you’re young, you got to be young. But the way he said it made her think he jacked himself up with some barely legal kid. “Use the joystick to look around, and stop shooting at every damn thing, you’re gonna run out of ammo and get yourself wasted.” She coached, her gaze narrowing at his words.

Her Momma had made sure she’d known what the what was when it came to men, and her brothers had made sure none of the men she’d picked to be in her life took advantage of what that meant. Sex was fun, but marriage was the real deal. So this blasé, *** backwards ******** he served up to her just made her shake her head. “Hell if I know, maybe she’s masochistic.” She returned. “I can believe you done got yourself married to someone who aint gonna screw you… cause god forbid you do anything about your blue ball attitude. Why don’t you try going home to your wife? Surely you married her for …. Something?”

[Doc]

‹Doc› Doc nodded at the ammo suggestion, and became a bit more judicious about what he shot. For his first time, he thought he was doing halfway decent, until, “Oh **** NO!” he died. He wanted to throw the controller. He counted. He then looked at Blackula pointedly. “I couldn’t have the woman I loved, cause she’s married, ok? So I married the Psycho, so that the woman I loved wasn’t thinking I was constantly lusting after her.” Ok, yes it was true, but there was way more to it than that. He did care the Psycho, and it had bothered him way too much when she had told him she was engaged. So yea he’s a selfish ********, when he found out the engagement was all a ruse, he did the only thing a selfish ******** would do. He married her, so no one could have her. Simple.

‹Tameka Vassey› Well, if there’s something her upbringing had taught her it was that you couldn’t change people and you couldn’t keep butting your head up against the brick wall that was people’s lives. You either agreed with what they did or were or you didn’t. And no amount of soul searching and angsting was going to change what can’t be change. So you had to let it go. Meka figured her and Doc were just different people. She might be a loud, brash pain in the *** but she had a pretty clear, north pointing moral compass and despite the whole ‘drink blood’ deal, she sorta thought her compass had a clear line straight up. Doc on other hand seemed to have compass that wavered all over the damn place in some sort of botched up sense of duty. She gave him a filthy look, reached forward, grabbed the second control and took them into the multiplayer universe. “Here, we’ll go up against one another, and I’ll show you how it works when we go up against one another.”

“Here, is how you load your grenades. You’ll need those.” She said, loading hers and then tossing one at his character on screen, “and you can load more than one, by checking the HUD and seeing what you got… and then. BAM.. BAM… toss them.” She said again, a **** eating grin widening across her features as she threw them to either side of his character. “Well, aint that just magnanimous of you. You should get a damn award for being such a self sacrificing ******** for marrying some poor woman cause you couldn’t have another.” Meka shook her head. “I thought you were smart.. what sort of intelligent man thinks THAT is a good life plan? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” Raising her control she pointed at the screen.. “Watch out! … move to the left… left! NO the other left!”

‹Doc› Doc watched the screen and barely keep up with her character. “Slow the **** down! I don’t know what the hell I am doing!” He was starting to get the hang of a couple of buttons. And reloading was getting easier. “Push comes to shove.. I know I can trust her over anyone. And I got her back if she needs it. It’s a partnership. She’s good qualities, that I don’t have. I have the ******** gene that will keep her from getting fucked over because she’s too ******* nice. But dammit.. I am not used to having someone around. I need my ******* quiet time.” He obliterated something “HA! See that! YES!” He grinned at the screen. “Marriage to our kind ain’t like marriage is to humans.. in that she and I agree. We got for-fuckin-ever…I would rather have a partner I can trust.. than a chick to ****..” He cleared another one, “I think I am getting this…”

‹Tameka Vassey› Well, Meka thought, the man is a man and he’s made his own choices. There was no sense in judging it. Just accept it and move on Meka. You get to teach the man some Halo and then he’ll walk out that door and he’ll get back to his life with his wife and his.. whatever it was he’d made for himself. For a moment she felt sorry for him. There seemed to be something missing in this whole equation. A single driving reason why people did what they normally did. Happiness. Their own mostly. People were usually driven to do things to make themselves happy. If he wanted a partnership, then why the hell not right?

What Meka thought was hilarious was the fact the man wanted quiet and came to play Halo. With HER. She didn’t have any illusions about what sort of person she was but ‘quiet’ wasn’t one of em. The fact he thought she’d prove to be a more sedate distraction made her wonder what sort of woman he’d hitched himself to. “Ahh well, look. If that’s what you want. Then who hell is anyone to judge it. Just live your life the way you want to..” She said, even if in her head she’d done all the judging she needed to do. The man was obviously a frigid, emotional dwarf and considering the life he’d just tied himself into, he wasn’t getting any sex any time soon. Which, given her first impression of him meant he wasn’t gonna get any damn sweeter. Those blue balls are gonna back up and make his head explode one day. “Aint nothing wrong with a quick **** now.” She muttered under her breath before speaking louder. “Seems like an eternity is a long time to go cold turkey. Mr Paaaaaaaaartnership.” Jumping off her seat she stood, the controller in her hand, her fingers moving furious, the forefinger hitting the left bumper to load a grenade to send it. “HA! Don’t think you can pull that sneaky crap buster … I got … iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.” She yelled at the screen, jiggling on the spot and the growling as it failed to hit its mark. “Dammit.”

‹Doc› Doc eyed her as she bounded off the couch and started yelling at the screen. He actually found her antics entertaining. He grinned crookedly and when he looked back at the screen “****! Look Out!” He barely missed getting blown up. For the next few minutes he muttered under his breath as he came under harder fire, “I’m fucked..” He managed to hold on a few more seconds, then he was dead. Again. “Gah.” He threw the controller down. “I suck at this.” He sat back and just watched her. “You’re decent.. but you could be better…” He had to devil her, it was his nature. “Wait.. what the hell Look where you’re going! Don’t go in there..’ He sighed and gestured, “Now you have boxed yourself in!”

‹Tameka Vassey› “Damn right you’re fucked!” Meka taunted, still standing, controller in hand and hooting at the screen. She was grinning and she was completely focused on the screen in front of her “Bend over and take it!” she heckled. “.. cause this is as close as you’re gonna get to the sweet spot!” Then she frowned at the television as if her expression could show the Xbox why in the hell she wasn’t happy with whatever it was she was seeing play out there. “Oh NO YOU DIDN’T just do that.” She growled. But no matter how fast her fingers moved another player moved in and started blasting the crap out of her. Doc’s character was shitted and she was very quickly heading the same way. “God damn!” she yelled.. “Oh hell no!” she growled and then in a movement that mimicked Doc she threw the controller onto the coffee table and watched as her character went epileptic and then stopped moving. “Well… damn.” She said and flopped back onto the couch. “Well, that was one way to end it.” She stated prosaically. With a sigh she turned to the older man, sitting on her couch in a suit and no tie. “That’s it … how to play on a gaming console 101. I didn’t have no playstation but.. XBox is the same thing really. So what now?” she asked, curious about how long she was meant to act as this man’s alibi.

‹Doc› Doc was uncharacteristically smiling a full face smile. Really? That was it? That was the full lesson and she was ready for him to go? That was all of, maybe 20 minutes, or less. That was practically painless. He would have to use her as an alibi again. Seems she was just as anxious to get rid of him, as he was to be gone. He didn’t want to look anxious, even if he was. That was just rude, especially if he expected to use her again. He had also learned something quite important about Blackula in this short period of time. If she is focused on something else, she’s not so damned mouthy. He sucks at the whole game thing, but it was just a game. He could die repeatedly in it, for 15 to 20 minutes per ‘event’ and he would have the rest of the time to read and study in peaceful quiet. “So I guess you want me to leave now?” He would let her say the words, then he would magnanimously do as she wished. She got to feel like she got rid of him, and he got the rest of the night to himself.

‹Tameka Vassey› "No, lets go back to my bedroom and screw like jack rabbits." she said blandly, delivering the line as smoothly as if she'd just invited him for a picnic, her tongue well and truly stuck to the side of her cheek. And watched for him to swallow his own tongue and take off like someone and put a hot poker up his butt. Hell yes she wanted him gone. She didn't know what the hell else do with him, and it seemed, he'd apparently got all the alibi time he needed. The least she could do was have a bit of fun with him before he ran the hell away.

‹Doc› “Well damn.. ok..” Doc sighed “but no biting…” He reached out to take her hand.. “And I like to lead…”

‹Tameka Vassey› Meka smirked at his fake and took his hand, hauling herself so close they were nose to nose. Her knees hitting the side of his leg. With equally fake care she scooped a hand through the hair at the base of his neck. Her words taunting good naturedly. "And what would you do if I called that bluff...? " With a grin she snapped her teeth at him, hauled herself back to where she'd been on the couch. Lifting her hand and gave him an amused send off. "Get on with you... get home to your damn wife... or wherever it is you're not going. It was fun... looks like you can have a bit of fun if you put your mind to it."

‹Doc› Doc grins, “Later Blackula.. I’m in hut 1 if you change your mind,” he winked. He then stood and let himself out. His night was free. Yes!

[Jesse Fforde]

<Jesse Fforde> There’s this thing, people keep talking about. Rituals. Magic hoo-doo **** that I’d have shown an interest in years ago, had I any clue of its existence. Even now that I do know, I’ve been slack. How many weeks, months even, have I had to harass someone about it? To teach me the ropes, as it were? Too long, really. I’ve always been the type to try and learn things on my own, without help. Maybe I’m stubborn. The couple of times I’ve tried rituals on my own, however, I end up having my *** summarily kicked by the fae.

There are a few names that have been mentioned to me. A couple of people in Tytonidae who are experts at this ritual thing. I could go to any of them, I suppose. But in the end, I’ve decided that I’d prefer to go to my own sire. I’m more comfortable with her, I suppose. Happier to let my guard down, if only a little bit. And so I text her – short and sweet, and to the damned point:

“Want to learn how to do rituals. Can you help?”


<Phoenix> Halfway through a sweeping stroke of Lazarus, my phone went off. Normally, I'd have taken the chance to answer the device, but I was a bit preoccupied at the moment. Fadebeasts lunging at me were just one of those things that kept my attention rather focused. Despite the distraction, my aim was true and the beast's blood spurted as its head was severed cleanly from mishapen shoulders. Ick. It took me a second to turn away from the carnage; I always enjoyed watching the creature disintegrate as it was sucked back to the realm.

After glancing over the message, I typed out my own reply, hit send, then muttered off the incantation that would suck me back to the proper address. "601. You have 5 minutes."


<Jesse Fforde> 'You have 5 minutes', she says, as if she's trying to emulate the great and mighty Chaindog. As if this is some kind of drill that she's asked for, rather than me. It's mighty tempting to not show up. To reply with something along the lines of 'If it's too much of an inconvenience...' Maybe I'm taking precious time out of her night spent with Legion. But no. I'm too curious, and I've put this off for too long. I'm already sitting on my bike. It takes two seconds for me to put the phone away, and to start the engine. Within 3 minutes and 16 seconds I'm riding the elevator up to the 6th floor. Within four minutes, just over, I'm walking through the door.


<Phoenix> If he'd bothered to ask, he'd have known I had the patience of one of those flies that spend years maturing, then pop out and have to get it on before they die 24 hours later. Time, like most things, is a luxury I don't have on most nights. Tonight was no different. I didn't really want to rush through rituals, but I wanted to rush to get him here, if only to... Oh right, he couldn't speak the words. Just as I was mulling that thought over, the door swung open and in popped Sadist McTats. Of course I smiled. "Rituals, eh?" and I nodded to the set up altar, my worn little grimoire lying open on its scarred surface. "What do you need to know?"


<Jesse Fforde> I perk a brow and saunter toward the red-head, shedding the leather jacket as I do so. Beneath I'm wearing a black tee--some kind of death metal band insignia had once existed on the front, but was now all worn away. I drape the jacket over the back of a chair and pull the pen and paper from my back pocket. I write: "Everything." And show it to Phoenix.


<Phoenix> "You do realize that you'll have to speak words to the fae, right?" I paused to let that sink in, pointing carefully to the scrawled markings I'd made in the book. They were shitty drawings of the runes, but they were recognizable. "I don't think thinking them loudly is going to convince the fae... You can try, though." My eyes found his and I watched, waiting to see how he'd take the news.


<Jesse Fforde> Well that's just great, isn't it? How many times had I mentioned in that damned Tytonidae questionnaire thing that I am interested in rituals? Not one person thought it pertinent to let me know that one significant detail? Maybe that's why I'm failing so often. To begin with I don't move. I don't so much as twitch. And then I narrow my eyes; I shrug. I write: "Will give it a go anyway."


<Phoenix> "Can't you just... talk?" Was that something insensitive to ask? Maybe, but I didn't really care. I'd noticed some of the ways he'd looked at Legion and I and I wasn't exactly all that impressed. In fact, it was my entire lack of impressedness that had me so damn disappointed in him. Whatever; nothing I can do about that. "A lot of your issues would go away if you'd just... make some kind of... sound..." Yeah, I was probably barking up the wrong tree. "So just... summon the fae. Like this." And I did my thing - I set the ingredients on the table, tossed the bait and waited. It wasn't a conscious decision; I'd just instinctively grabbed **** that went together to perform a simple knowing ritual.


<Jesse Fforde> Sometimes, when people pester all too much, I can get cranky. Yeah, I'm cranky right now. But for the moment, I do my best not to show it. I remain still and seemingly serene. I don't like flaunting the fact that there's something mentally wrong with me. I don't like appearing weak. Nor do I use it as an excuse. It's never stopped me from doing what I wanted in the past, and it's not going to stop me now. I would have written it down. Would have told her to just get on with it. But she's moved on without actually waiting for an answer. I stand back and watch, arms crossed over my chest; observant, as always, I watch each and every step, I make list of the ingredients in my head (those that I recognise). I watch as Phoenix succeeds where I normally don’t.


<Phoenix> "So that angry looking thing there is a fae. It's held in by the circle," at which I pointed to the ground. My circle was pretty ugly and consisted of sidewalk chalk marring the cherrywood beauty of my floor, but who ******* cared? I had a fairy in my living room. Yeah, let that sink in. "You just toss the thingy in the circle to call the fae. It comes, then you can start. So you kind of have to memorize this language." With a vague gesture to the words on the page, I then flipped to another. At the top was written 'Know vampire' in my shitty handwriting. "That's the one we're doing. So you'll want to think these runes..."


<Phoenix> "Rituals are all sentences in fae. They're like people - all made up of the same basic thing, but some things change from person to person. There are constants to each ritual phrase and then randoms."


<Jesse Fforde> It's fascinating, actually seeing the fae. Right there in front of us, raging around inside the circle that it can't get out of. I'm mesmerized by it, absolutely in awe of it. I might have smirked and schooled Phoenix on her writing skills, but I'm far too distracted by what's actually happening to be a smart-***. As Phoenix explains, I listen intently and nod. I've even uncrossed my arms and startd taking notes of my own.


<Phoenix> I just kind of watched him for a while, waiting. Then I laughed and jabbed a finger at the line of text on the page, "Start thinking, boy. It's not going to be happy if you just stare at it!" The line read "zemu~ X X~ eren eri~ynes~lote~llus isk~ X X" It was all perfectly obvious to me, of course.


<Jesse Fforde> Here I was assuming that she'd finish the ritual. That she'd show me the whole thing before I step in and do one of my own. I step toward the book and, as with all things when learning them fresh, I take my time. I stare at the words, I play with them in my head. The letters - as shittily scrawled as they may be - begin to swim in my vision. Until I don't see them anymore. My vision blurs.

Jesse's bright blues go blank. They lift from the page and stare at the fae, raging around in the circle. The words from the page have been memorized; he steps away from the table and toward the circle, standing just outside of it. The fae within wants only to get out, but Jesse shows no fear. Instead, he appears in full control. As if, somehow, he's possessed by the very thing that rages at him from inside the invisble cage. And then, like a rust nail wrenched from old wood, the words are spoken; quiet, to begin with, but slowly gaining strength and momentum.


<Phoenix> Alright, so he was just going to waltz over and think there. Whatever, I didn't really care what he did so long as he didn't end up disemboweled on my floor. That'd be messy as ****. So I watched.... and waited, listening to him speak the fae words. His pronounciation wasn't great, but it was his first time saying... anything. I froze, listening more closely at the tail end of his incantation, staring at him like a landed trout. The moment of shock passed rather quickly, which left baffled, bemused annoyance in its wake, along with the desire to scream. "JESSE I KNEW YOU COULD TALK!"


<Jesse Fforde> It's only after the given words are spoken that Jesse pauses. There's a dark, blurry spot in his brain, like trying to read a book when there's not enough light. The words are there. The shape of them are clear. But they can't be deciphered. Subconsciously, he knows them. Subconsciously, he doesn't yet know them well enough. The fae within the circle snickers and gains power. It attacks the invisible wall, over, and over. Jesse utters words--not quite good enough--to try to keep it at bay. But to no avail. It doesn't take long before the fae breaks through the circle. It leaps at Jesse, its ethereal hand gouging into his soft gut. He gasps, and all the usual brightness and consciousness comes back to his previously vacant eyes.

What the ******* ****? One second, I'm staring at that damned book and Phoenix's shitty handwriting. The next, I'm staring into the gleeful features of an escapes fae. A sharp, twisting pain in my gut tells me that this thing is gleeful because it's got my blood on its hands. With a cackle, it all but shimmers and disappears. But I'm left with a hole in my gut. I take a couple of steps backward. Well. There goes that shirt.


<Phoenix> And of course, I'd just watched the whole thing like an idiot, screaming at him while he got gutted by the thing. Not that I'd have been able to fight it off. Not that it would kill him. I probably could have tossed some ears or mirror bits at the circle to keep it together, but Jesse had spoken. "You talked, you lying little ****! You talked! Get the **** up and do it again!" I think I need to work on my bedside manner...


<Jesse Fforde> I'm standing--deep breaths that I don't need--with one hand over the hole in my gut, waiting for the blood to stop spilling. I know it's not fatal. And I'm not averse to the pain. It'll start stitching itself up sooner or later. I'm waiting for Phoenix to tell me what happened - did she do this? For some god-forsaken, sadistic, playful reason, did she set this thing on me like a rabid dog after a thief? No, instead, she's swearing at me. Accusing me of talking. Brows knit together and I shake my head. What the **** is she on about?


<Phoenix> "You spoke fae at it!" I didn't realize right away that I was jabbing a finger at him, then at the broken circle of chalk on the floor, then back again. It was rude, I'd been told. The finger pointing. Not that I really cared all that much. "Speak fae again! Actually, **** fae. Try English! I knew you could speeeeak!"


<Jesse Fforde> Exasparated, I can do nothing but shake my head. I've never actually been this exasparated before. Usually when people accuse me of things, they have a good reason to do so. Normally, I'm guilty of the thing they're accusing me of. This time, though - I have to reach for my own pen and paper and write: "I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. I remember staring at your damn book. And then being gouged by a furious fairy. What did you do?"


<Phoenix> Well, now that was frustrating. He wanted to play coy after speaking to the damn fae. I scowled at the words on the paper, considering being petty and pretending I, too, had forgotten how to read. Instead I just glared at him. "You did the ritual. You failed after speaking out loud. It gouged you then ran off. I did nothing."

[Phoenix]

<Jesse Fforde> There's blood all over the pen, and smeared across the page that I've written on. There's still a dull ache in my gut, punctuated by sharp, stabbing pain, like someone randomly sticking a dagger in my stomach. I ignore it, with all the fortitude of stubborn cat. I do nothing for at least ten seconds. I'm floored by the implication. I've drifted, wondering what the hell .... I must have been possessed. Something I'll think through later, I suppose. For the moment, the one thing I focus on is the fact that I failed. I write: "I still ******* failed. What did I do wrong?"


<Phoenix> ... He failed? That was what he was focusing on!? Jesus, man! "You didn't stop to fortify the barrier," I explained, pointing to the shards of broken mirrors, the hazardous waste bin of used condoms and platter of zombie ears I kept readily available on the altar table. Super macabre, but super useful. I kept the oil and chemicals out of sight; they smelled worse than the rest.


<Jesse Fforde> I glance down at the hoarde of materials Phoenix has available. I didn't fortify the barrier? I didn't know that was something I was supposed to do. I write: "Would have been good to know. What kind of teacher are you?" I smirk; I am teasing, of course. Have to smirk just to let her know that. Of course, I am disoriented by the fact that I did speak. I can see the frustration in Phoenix's face. I have to add: "It must have something to do with the magic. My head's still broken." And, to even prove it to myself, I clear my throat. It's been so long since I've willingly used the voice box - something blocks the voice. Something mental. Some deep, hidden fear.


<Phoenix> "You didn't give me a chance to really explain before trying it for yourself," I snapped, annoyed after reading the not-so-subtle accusation. I'd had enough of them from him that I didn't particularly care to joke around. "Try it again. Without zoning out."


<Jesse Fforde> Well I had though, hadn't I? I remember, clearly, waiting for her to continue - but she'd pointed to that page and told me to start. And from that point on, I can't recall what I did or did not do. Again, I glance at the page - I get a feel for the words. Again, they start to blur. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head - do it again without zoning out? I don't know how to control this. But I'm not the kind of person to give up, am I? I gather together the ingredients - the same ones Phoenix had used before - and toss them at the circle. The fae appears; I eye the ****** with barely-masked disdain. I return to the grimoire. This is where I'm going to struggle.


<Phoenix> Meanwhile, i was watching him for any telltale sign that he was ******* with me. Little ******. I didn't believe for half a second that he didn't remember what he'd just done. I'd seen a lot of weird **** and heard a lot more to boot, but this was not one of those weird things. Or I refused, steadfastly, to believe it was one of those things. "Work on your pronounciation this time," I smirked, waiting for the fae to charge the barrier at the extended silence.


<Jesse Fforde> I glance up at Phoenix. Gaze lingering on her face for a prolonged period of time. I'm taking in every curve and detail, trying my utmost to figure out what she thinks of me. There's a smirk on her face - she really is just waiting for me to talk. To just defy nearly two decades of silence. And I try - I actually really do try; I can feel the Adam's apple as it bobs, as I work the unfamiliar muscles in my neck; all I can manage is a semi-strangled breath. And there I am, at my most vulnerable, trying to face up against a fear that I can't name. I wonder if she can see it my eyes, if she looks close enough; can she see that nightmare that I'm victim to every evening just before waking?

The ritual is almost forgotten. I'm focused on the fact that I can't just willfully speak. That this woman believes that I can, and she doesn't understand that I can't. That whatever I did, I was not conscious of it. That, for her--God, I actually want to succeed in this, just to make her proud. What ******** is that? For her, I'd speak. I'd get this right. I'd wrangle that fae to my will, just to prove that I can. But I can't.


<Phoenix> After prolonged moments of obvious struggling without to much as a croak, a rasp, or any other sign of success, I finally decide that maybe, just maybe, Jesse wasn't being a lying shithead. Sure, he was a shithead, but maybe not quite a liar. Or at least not intentionally. Which left what? Divine intervention? Crazy blackout of fae-spewing. Fae possession? Was that a thing? "****. Think it, then. You don't need to start fortifying until the fae's charged the barrier like 3 times."


<Jesse Fforde> The woman isn't at all sensitive to my disability. Which is fine. Preferable, actually. Far too many people in the past have cooed over me like I'm an incompetent child. I narrow my eyes and turn back to the circle. The fae inside looks different to the last, but still has the same rage. I'm sure I'd be pissed, too, if someone summoned me and stuck me in an invisble cage, to use me for their own desires. I take a breath and I focus. I recall the words from the page. My lips move as I think them--as I try to make the incantation the only damned thought in my head. Noting else. No background noise. Just that single incantation. For a while, it seems to work. And then the fae begins to charge. This time, I throw the indicated items at the circle. And for a while, that works, too. I don't know how much longer I last this time than I did last time. I don't know if I've even lasted as long. Again, the fae charges. It gets angrier, and stronger, as if its fury is fuel. I remember the gouge in my gut. And for that split second, I am distracted. Outside noise is let back in. I'm aware of how incompetent I actually am - at this, in the very least. Again, the fae charges. This time, I can see the way it breaks free. This time, it latches itself to my leg - gnawing at it, succeeding in mauling it a little before I kick it off. Of course, I'm not happy about the outcome. Generally pissed off, in fact. I want to throw something. Smash something. But I keep my wits.


<Phoenix> For a while, I think he's doing well and that he might actually complete the ritual. Then, as is usually the case, **** went south pretty fast. The fae burst through the barrier and latched onto his leg. I knew there really wasn't anything I could do to prevent that, but I could at least show him how it was done. Without really waiting for Jesse to get out of the way, I just stepped up and nudged the rituals into place, calling another demi to the circle. "You want to see how it's done?"


<Jesse Fforde> I lean up against the nearby bench, taking weight off the now profusely bleeding leg. At least the blood seems to blend into the redness of the wooden floor. I nod. Yes, sure, that would be grand. I'll see where I'm going wrong, if at all. Maybe it's a practice makes perfect type thing.


<Phoenix> I didn't wait very long; I'd summoned one for the simplest ritual I knew. Without bothering to glance at my notes, I simply started with the constants, enumerating them off to the violently twitching fae. "That's a response," I explained gently. "If it responds, you know the word is part of the incantation. If it responds by attacking, you know the word is not part of the incantation." And then I went about reading through the fae alphabet, making a mental note each time the fae twitched in response. Those words were puzzle pieces and once I'd fit them together, the fae vanished. Suddenly, I could find a hitman... "That's how it's done."


<Jesse Fforde> I watch, again fascinated, though perhaps a little annoyed. Was this how it had been in the beginning? I can't really remember. I suppose this is the way Phoenix chooses to teach - throw someone in to the deep end, wait until they're sufficiently beaten, before actually explaining things clearly and concisely. Perhaps if I'd known about the responses, maybe I'd have succeeded. But, I have no idea what I did or what I was conscious of the first time around. And the second time around, I was distracted. So I don't convey my annoyance. Instead, I nod. Duly noted. I retrieved my pen and paper. "How many rituals are there?" I write.


<Phoenix> I didn't know he was annoyed, per se, but I could tell something was a bit off. Something about the way I'd let him try. I glanced to the question on the paper and dismissed it for a moment; I'd answer that later, but first I'd explain the method behind my madness. Despite my general annoyance with him, he deserved that. "You'll respect the fae now more than you would have had I shown you all the tricks beforehand. It's an unpleasant lesson, but it'll keep you from being sloppy. As for the number... I don't know. I know of about a dozen, but there could be hundreds more."


<Jesse Fforde> I'm sure I'd have respected the fae regardless. But I can see her point. I nod, and write again: "Can I borrow your book? To copy. Start one of my own?"


<Phoenix> I glance to the book on the table. The perfect imperfection of those scrawled pages. It was ****, and I knew it, but it was worth more to me than Da Vinci's notebooks and... it was private. Reaching over, I carefully close the book and pick it from the altar with a strange reverence. "No.. I'll make a copy for you."


<Jesse Fforde> I watch as Phoenix picks up the book; taking it out of my reach, as if I were, right then and there, going to go flicking through it. It only makes me curious to see what's inside. I shrug, and nod. I've tried, in the past, to convey thanks via expression. It never seemed to work, though. I turn to my own notepad: "Thank you." I write. I don't tell her that regardless, if her writing's as shitty in the new copy as in this one, I'll be copying out my own, anyway.


<Phoenix> "I'll send you a xerox of the relevant pages." I nodded, then arched a brow in silent question at the thanks. It seemed rather premature. "You have any other questions?"


<Jesse Fforde> I arch an eyebrow. For a few seconds, I ponder. Sure, I have plenty. But I'm still bleeding, and I suddenly feel wiped. I need to go.... feed, something, to get my energy back up again. "I'll ask them on the Crow. You can answer for the benefit of all. I'll stop bleeding all over your floor. And I'll be back after I've practiced a bit." I show her the pad, and straighten, ready to head out if she has nothing else pertinent to say.


<Phoenix> My eyes flicked over the message, his leg and the steadily growing pool of blood on the floor in the span of a second. Clearly, my non-combat oriented observational skills needed some fine-tuning. There were other things I'd missed; I don't know what made me realize it, but I'd kind of been a cold ***** to Jesse since he'd arrived. His attitude towards Legion and I shoudn't have been held against him. Not only was he a maybe-member of Tytonidae, but he was my childe and I had the sort of responsibility for ensuring his continued growth - mentally and physically. And I was failing in that duty. "Alright," said I, feeling wholly inadequate when faced with the daunting task of being emotionally supportive. Jesse had spoken - it was a breakthrough. "I'm sorry you got hurt.

Don't worry about the blood; it'll clean up easy enough. I..." And I stopped to look him in the eyes. Really look, this time, instead of offering those false looking-at-the-forehead looks in the eye. I even managed to smile. "I'm proud of you. Enjoy the practive, but be careful."


<Jesse Fforde> I smirk. I had begun to wonder, really. I had come to the ready conclusion that Phoenix was just a *****. Maybe that's just who she is, and who am I to judge? I can be a dick, too. Can't hold it against her. She says she's proud, and this is why I smirk--like some damned kid given a gold star. But I can't help it. Like most people, it's nice to know if I'm actually doing something right, rather than focusing only on the things I'm doing wrong. I tuck away the pad and pen into my back pocket. I salute, and resist the urge to ruffle Phoenix's hair. Instead, I limp toward the exit, scooping up the jacket as I go. I'll have to zip it up when I get down to the street - do what I can to hide the utter mess I am until I get home to clean up.

[Jesse Fforde]

* * Legion used the barrel of his gun to give a scratch at a stubbled cheek, even as his eyes drank in the darkness. He loved the catacombs - loved the feel of them, the way that the walls smelled old, dusty and powerful, the way that death clung to them as if it were an aura. Cursory assessment aside, he holstered his gun. No zombies around to give him a hard time. That's when he caught sight of his brother type. "Yo." he called out, informally.


* Jesse Fforde || The catacombs are a change of scenery. I've been spending the majority of my time in the sewers, hunting the hunters, just to give them a taste of their own medicine. I've also been practicing rituals at that alter down there, but have given up. At least for the moment. I feel like a pin-cushion, the amount of gouges and gunshot wounds I have that haven't yet healed. And so I've turned my attentions to the easier prey. I'm about to head through the nearest door to the part of the 'combs that aren't residences, when a shouted 'Yo' catches my attention. I turn to find Legion. I grin, and lift my chin in a similar greeting.


* * Legion gave a nod to the other man, before his feet carried him off towards the sibling, an arm naturally slung around the other male's more narrow waist. Perhaps if they had been some sort of normal family, they might have hugged. Instead, Legion jerked the man into his side so that he could reach for very short cropped hair and noogie it. "Where are you off to?" He managed to ask a moment later, after releasing the other man. He had yet to notice any damage done to the other man's body - so the immediate reasoning behind being in the catacoms wasn't there just yet.


* Jesse Fforde || I perk a brow as Legion's arm winds around my waist; I can't help but glance down at it, questioning what he's doing. The guy noogie's my hair and I push him away--playfully, of course, the smile still on my lips. I shrug my shoulders in response to the inquiry. I **** my head in the direction of the catacombs proper. I then gesture to the floor, stamping on it with one foot before lifting the loose and ragged hem of my old shirt to reveal the multiple wounds beneath. I screw up my nose and shake my head.


<Legion> The wounds told their own story, and Legion's eyes slowly moved over them. To an uninvolved party, it might look as if he were assessing them for some sort of treatment. Really, he was just enjoying them. Legion liked blood - but that wasn't any particular sort of secret. Jesse was a necromancer, and they appeared more death-like than most other vampires - not that Legion would have cognitively known that. He just liked dead things. And so he pulled his gun once more, flipping the safety off as he nodded the man forward towards the catacombs. If the other man was injured, he was more than happy to shoot a few zombies in the head by way of bonding time. It was like fishing. But better.


* Jesse Fforde || If I had the voice to say it, I might tease Legion about checking me out. Might ask him what he's doing with a matchstick like Phoenix when he could have a real man. All in good humour, of course. I have a blonde matchstick of my own that I would never give up for the masculine type. Whatever the case, it's intriguing, how Legion doesn't give my wounds a mere cursory glance. He's far too interested in them for it to be normal--just another curiosity, I suppose, before the moment's over. Legion's got his gun, and I've got my sword--the one Phoenix had given me. It's still loosely held in the grip of my left hand. The catacombs it is, though this time I apparently have a companion.


<Legion> Hunting together was an enjoyable experience for Legion. His second real date with Phoenix had been spent tracking down hunters, only to slaughter them on a train leading into the city. The pair had then danced on the roof of the tram, masks over their faces, their bodies moving like silk fluttering in the air. Indeed, one of the reasons he loved Tytonidae - why he had such a bond to them was that they all shed blood together. The descent into the under darkness of the catacombs was quick - and soon there was almost no light to guide their way save for the few strands that came through craggy rock cracks. He listened, rather than watched, his arms held out in front of him to hold his firearm much the way a police officer might. "You ever found anything good down here?" He asked. The question was almost rhetorical. Nobody seemed to ever find anything good.


* Jesse Fforde || I think it's what I like best about the catacombs. There's something underworldly about them. Like anything could happen down here, and it could all be fobbed off as a dream. Or, maybe a nightmare to some people. It's like there are endless possibilities ensconced in this damp darkness. There's a history to it, like the darkness is not just the lack of light, but the gathering and the capture of time. I swirl the sword in my grasp, holding the blade steady in both hands--prepared for attack or defense. Legion utters a question, and I can only stare incredulously at the bobbing bit of darkness that's either a head or a shoulder. It's kind of like a remain silent to prove a point, but really, I've got no choice in the matter.


* * Legion knew all too well that Jesse wouldn't be able to answer him. Not really. In some ways, that was a little comforting. Legion was used to being the listener when it came to people. When he wasn't plotting some sort of devilry with Velveteen, he was usually quiet. He liked to understand people - probably because he never really had. There was something about his mind which had always felt just a tiny bit out of place. "I missed the party to go and kill that Vivianna girl. Don't know her at all but I was disappointed. Nothing riles me quite like when someone tries to play smart and...can't." He said as he ended up back to back with Jesse, following the other man's stride, only with his eyes on the opposite direction so as to maximise their collective field of vision.


* Doc was out on the hunt for Ancients, when he heard someone speaking, he canted his head, the voice was familiar. He moved closer and saw Jesse and Legion. He wasn't really sure if he would be welcomed by them. He tended to keep to himself, unless he was picking on Blackula. He cleared his throat, in an effort to announce his presence, so it would not be thougth he was 'eavesdropping' perse;.


* Jesse Fforde || Of course he would remind me of that. I hadn't missed that party. Sure, I may have missed a few in the past, but that's only because I was down here. Or in the sewers. Somewhere I had no reception, and by the time I'd got the message it was too late. I come when I'm called. ****, I'd do what the hell ever any of them asked me too. But no, nope. I'm still not good enough. I lop off a chick's arm, someone I don't know, and I don't even ******* know what she did wrong. But apparently, that's still not proof enough of my dedication. I take a sharp breath and tense, almost glad that Legion can't see how ******* furious it makes me. It's only moments later I'm aware of two things - another person, clearing his throat. And an ambling ancient. I attend to the latter first, slashing and dancing until the thing is in pieces at my feet.

[Legion]

<Legion> The appearance of both the shambling ancient and Doc registered nearly immediately to Legion - though he did not distinguish the latter from the former, and so while Jesse was handling the beastie, the former gangster leveled his gun in Doc's face. He was a split second away from pulling the trigger when he recognized the features and his finger drew away from the trigger. "Doc." He said by way of greeting, neither a positive nor negative thing. He smiled then - though again, with Legion it was never truly clear what that particular facial expression meant. He could have been smiling out of a genuinely gregarious nature, or because he wanted to kill the man. He took a step back to rejoin his sibling. "Welcome to the party." He said.


<Doc> Doc own weapon was out and aimed, groinwise, "Legion.. " he glanced briefly at the Mute, "Jesse" He nodded once, as he smirked a lopsided smile. He hadn't really spent much time with either of these two men. It was actually a welcome diversion, from needy *** women. However, he really wasn't one for male bonding, so he didn't really know what to say, other than what he did say.


* Jesse Fforde || The wholesale slaughter of the ancient was action enough to at least bring my fury down to a simmering low. In spite of the darkness, we can all see each other fairly reasonably; I can at least pull together the features of the newcomer and, along with Legion's greeting, ascertain that he is someone I know. Someone we know. Another member of Tytonidae. Someone who joined after I had. I wonder idly whether he's having the same trouble I am. But then, he's not mute. So probably not. Nothing to judge him for, I suppose.


* * Legion didn't bother to holster his gun on the off chance that a mooncalf or another ancient decided to party crash. As it was, male bonding tended not to involve all that much talking. Even when he had, had friends as a mortal, Legion's conversation generally consisted of work type things 'Oh, we're advancing on the west side of the city'. Or women 'Yeah, she's a *****, she burned my shirts.'. Or any of the other miscelaneous topics which generally degenerated into some form of pissing contest or another. Drinking, cigars, violence. Those took the place of talking. So Legion was not offended at the brevity of Doc's greeting. Instead, he scanned around for something to steal. He wasn't aware of the internal struggle Jesse was having issues with per se - but he knew a man who was pissed when he saw it. Rather than directly ask (Since communication in the dark with a mute was like pulling teeth), he simply grunted. "Leave some for the rest of us." He said offhandedly, wondering if that might draw something out of his sibling.


<Doc> Doc looked at Jesse. He seemed so deadpan, so non-chalant. Doc was envious of him in a way. Jesse wasn't inundated with random female yammering **** all the time. Females just seemed drawn to him, to him their ******* problems, like he cared? No he didnt ******* care, but they still yammered on. He looked at Jesse, “You dont know how ******* lucky you are.” He slid a look at Legion, then back to Jesse, “Blackula seems to have a thing for you. Always sliding those dark eyes at you; be happy you cant hear that ****. Screechy voice, and annoying holier- than-*******-thou-attitude.” Doc touches his ear lightly.


* Jesse Fforde || I perk a brow and **** my head to the side. Doc does know that I can hear, right? It's not as if I'm deaf. I just don't talk. Obviously he doesn't know that being so silent all the time seems to mean, for other people, that I want to hear their life story. It doesn't bother me so much, though. I know more about others than they realise. Though I have no idea who he's talking about - Blackula? Is that an actual name? I shrug and shake my head. With sword still clutched in one hand I take a step forward and slap the poor guy on the shoulder. Poor sod. I gesture to the hall behind us--if he's angry, killing things will surely make it all better again.


<Legion> Blackula had to be Tameka. The name was somewhat fitting, if a bit sketchy in the race department, not that Legion was one to focus on that sort of thing. What gave it away was the description. Of course, Legion found the woman's antics to be somewhat endearing. In another world, she might have made a kickass younger sister of some sort. As it was, he knew all too well some of the difficulties she'd undergone when it came to handling orders as simple as an implied 'shut up'. It wasn't his place to judge, so he didn't. Sanguine chocolate hues caught sight of something shiny, and he ambled over to pluck up a rusty dagger - carefully slipping it into his bag. "He's not deaf, just mute." He said - as if it were the natural flow of the conversation. "Talkative ladies are the payoff men have for getting their hands on other, more attractive feminine attributes." He reasoned. "But then, Phoenix isn't all that talkative. She much prefers to do her chatting with a knife in the ribs." Another smile.


<Doc> Doc looked at Legion, then looked at Jesse, "**** your life man.. You can hear that ****? Here I was envious.. not any more.." He then looked at LEgion, "Yea You got a good one.. **** me if I didnt marry a talker.. " he slides a look at Jesse then back to Legion, "Mute huh? Physical or head case... ya know?"


* Jesse Fforde || I roll my eyes. This a question asked of me a lot. It's not really a personal question, given the fact that it's one most often asked. It fails to offend anymore. People have their curiosity. I can't fault them that. I almost want to know why he married the woman if he doesn't enjoy listening to her. I think of Felicity. She's quiet and shy. I realised a long time ago that those are the one's I'm attracted to. The quiet, shy types. I glance over at Legion, picking rusty daggers out of the rubble. Lost treasure - another reason why this place is fun. I turn back to Doc and lift a finger to my temple, swirling it around in a loop. Yeah, I'm a nutcase.


* * Legion had made the assumption at one point or another that if the mutism were physical, that the vampirism would have fixed it - but that raised a question in his head. If there were some sort of physical deformity, such as a lost limb, or an additional limb at birth - would vampirism correct it? Would first death and rebirth? He silently filed those away in his mind as two different things to explore. Somehow. It seemed that the subject of relationships was the topic du jour - again, nothing too shocking about that. The men were well past their adolescent phase involving the need to brag about 'what their women did for them in bed'. Some guys never outgrew it, but Legion didn't like to set the bar low. "I've got to save up every penny I can get. I'm waiting for the next raid - hoping I can win it because I owe Nix a couple of relics." He commented idly to the pair.


<Doc> Doc saw Jesse's gesture. Head case. That meant there was some sort of pyschological trauma that induced it. The thing about head cases were, the tinest thing could set them off. Most doctors presumed it was a massive life changing event. But truth of the matter was, it is life changing in the eyes of the beholder. What one person thought was life changing, another considered it common place. That was why head cases were so interesting. What 'plus' what, caused someone to say they couldn't trust themselves anymore? But head cases were not his forte. He nodded at Legion's words. “Yes I owe the Ball and Chain. Damn I so hate owing her. Rather she owed me. I am looking for a specific relic.. froma blood theif.. what are you looking for?”

[Doc]

* Jesse Fforde || I'd love to 'win' one of these raids, too. I don't owe anyone any relics, though I suppose I'd love to have one. I watch Legion carefully - is that what's happened, there? Did Legion ask to borrow some relics from Phoenix and he's got to return them somehow? Or has she offered them willingly, and not expecting anything in return? Either way, I suppose - I don't expect will be giving me anything, in future. And I'm wary of asking her for anything. I'll make my own way. I grin. I want to boast. I don't owe my woman anything, and nor does she owe me. We're equal. Maybe it's just because the relationship's so new. But I suppose we shall see. Slowly, I begin to amble down the nearest hallway, again twirling the weapon in my hands. The blade sings through the air. I'm searching for more things to cut down, but also listening closely to the conversation behind me.


* * Legion had been working to win raids for weeks. It was odd - Legion had gotten his first kill shot less than a month into vamprisim, but he couldn't seem to get past floor three or four of one of those damned raids. One would have thought that in the cosmic scheme of things; it would have been harder to take an immortal out than some barely strung together bits of bone and flesh that just happened to pass for zombies. Then again, murder was a group activity. "Pendant and Acorn." He said by way of answer. "I got a ring recently with some of my lotto winnings." He didn't elaborate on the deal between himself and Nix - suffice to say, he treated them as little more than loans. "What about you? What are you looking for?" He asked Doc, even as he took aim at a mooncalf which was slowly making its way towards the opposite side of his sibling. One shot rang out, and he caught one of (it seemed like there were a half dozen) its heads. The thing staggered, but didn't fall. Really it was just a warning for Jesse.


<Doc> “Relic of blood buffing.. heard of it.. not actually seen it perse. But if I could get my hands on it ..” He smiled a self serving smile. If he could get that, he could give it to someone.. someone who was dependent on another. And once that other wasn't needed.. what would happen? Doc have no clue. But he loved throwing chaos into the mix. The chaos of being needed to no longer being being needed.. what would that do to someone. Especially someone who had done so much to snare the person in the first place? He looked back at Legion, “I have a couple of relics myself. I wouldn't mind having more. But money is tight.. Family is moving toward faction standing.. And the Ball and Chain is always asking for spirits.. spirits that I used to get paid for.. But.. she asks so sweetly.. I can't say no.. lest I hear the recriminations endlessly... “


* Jesse Fforde || The shot echoes, bounces around the confines of the catacombs. I turn with sword raised; many mouths are opened in either pain or hunger, I can never really tell. There's no way to really behead this creature, so I instead stab and slash and maim until it can no longer move. Until I assume that it's dead. I'm still listening to the conversation - the relic Doc mentions sounds an awful lot like the one Juliet recently found. She said she'd got it from a blood thief. Heading back toward Legion I whack him on the shoulder - did he remember that, from the Crownet? Should we tell Doc that he's looking in the wrong place - that he's not going to find that particular relic down here?


<Legion> That sounded like there was a story inside of Doc's words. Legion was the kind of man who didn't believe in prying for information that wasn't freely given, and so he didn't question it. If Doc wanted to tender up the details, then he would be happy to listen, but otherwise; he'd learned it was best to just keep one's mouth shut about another man's business. He ended up leaning into an alcove formed by what appeared to be some sort of window into a crypt, not that the room was recognizable as such, considering that it had been mostly collapsed in on itself. "I feel the same way. I have a tough time saying no to Nix. Just the other day she got a bug up her *** about flowers of all things." He made it sound like she'd asked him for his first born child.


<Doc> “Oh my god.. what is it about women and ******* flowers? She tells me shes leaving for a few days.. look after her god damn flowers..” he makes a face “.. which stink by the way..” he counts to ten, something he does when he is annoyed, “She says.. don't kill them. Well of course if she says 'don't kill them'.. I am gonna kill them. 'Cause they stink! And she gets all pissy..'don't kill them.. they are my babies..' What the ****? It's like I was about to sever her arm or some ****..” He shots an ancient , and continues, “So of course I cant stay there.. cause if they do ******* die.. she will blame me.. ******* women...” He hacks up the body of the ancient to get a trophy.


* Jesse Fforde || Again, I find myself wondering why Doc would marry a woman if he wasn't prepared to live with the feminine touches that she might apply to things. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I asked Felicity to live with me. I might have tried, somehow, to convey this. And yet I couldn't. I made to move but my foot didn't connect with solid ground. Instead, the world blurred around me, and suddenly, I wasn't there anymore. I was... where the **** was I going?