She had left a note for Kallista, saying she'd be only a tome away if desired or needed for anything, along with her number. Space had been needed, not wanted, after her turning from the man she loved. She had wanted to get to know her sire a bit, relax and adjust. She wanted to know what she was brought into and what she had to expect - it didn't help that she had to force herself to feed regularly and hated the guilt that followed. After her turning and once she could step outside without wanting to run back inside, she had moved her two bags into her sire's place and finally left the hotel.
Jersey didn't mind that she was a vampire, but the price of it almost made her sick. Since then, she had since realized that if the blood did not touch her tongue, she would not find it threatening to come back up. Seeing the sweet woman's words on the family board had made her smile, glad that it had been Kallista, whom Jersey had begun to affectionately call "Siren", who had been feeding off her regularly. It had been recognition in an instant. Jersey felt safe around her sire, and grateful, that she wasn't laying dead on some slab in the morgue. The place she'd been shot was healed, but occasionally it still stung as if it remained.
Remembering what she had been told about the fae, the blonde didn't linger in the wilderness as she hurried, holding her bag against her hip so it wouldn't smack against her side in the rush. When she made it to the porch, Jersey smoothed her palms over the cloth of her light blue jeans before tucking the back of her shirt - a gray, long sleeved shirt belonging to Peter that had been grabbed on accident - and bit her lip idly after she found her keychain missing. As she knocked, she reached out mentally and called into his mind, "Apparently I left my house key inside, too." Her phone, though, had died completely. It was in her pocket, found at the bottom of her purse as she had thought - essentially a wasteland with how often Jersey checked there.
New Chances [Peter Parkman]
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Jersey
- Registered User
- Posts: 455
- Joined: 24 Feb 2014, 22:55
- CrowNet Handle: JerseyGirl
New Chances [Peter Parkman]
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
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Peter Parkman
- Registered User
- Posts: 531
- Joined: 10 Feb 2014, 00:59
- CrowNet Handle: Spiderman
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
The last time Peter had seen Jersey was the night he had lost control. He’d fed from her. He’d weakened her. She’d told him that she trusted him, and then he’d broken that trust, completely. Severely. The next night, when he woke up he was by himself on the couch. He wasn’t concerned, straight away, though he did suffer a fresh bout of shame and regret as soon as he’d remembered what had happened.
He also remembered the camera – the sunset and the sunrise that Jersey had filmed for him. He remembered that she’d told him she loved him, and that he had returned the sentiment. The giddy happiness that he had felt upon remembering the latter was enough to abolish most of his shame and terror. The giddy happiness lasted the majority of the night. Although he hoped that Jersey would return to the cabin, as had been her habit lately, he also knew that she still had a hotel that she could go to. And if it was safer for her to stay there for the night rather than to trek all the way out to the cabin, then so be it.
Peter made sure to feed as soon as he woke up. He trekked all the way to the Asylum, to the shop there. He started a conversation with the man behind the counter, wondering if it was possible, if Peter were to pay a little extra, to get the blood delivered to his doorstep. The shop owner told Peter he’d see what he could do, and to check back the next night.
He almost expected Jersey to be at the cabin when he returned, but she wasn’t. He texted her. He curled up on the couch to read a book, and so immersed was he that he forgot about the time passing. A couple of hours later he roused himself. He had no response. And Jersey had not yet come back. By this time, it was after midnight. Peter tried not to worry.
When the next night rolled around, he definitely decided that he should worry. Jersey had not been there to walk the dogs. They were restless when Peter woke up. Their leads were in the exact same place. Their food bowls were empty. This time, Peter tried to call Jersey. It went to message bank. He continued to try to call her, over and over, until finally it stopped ringing. It just went to message bank.
The conclusion that Peter came to was that she had come to her senses. She had told him she loved him only to make it easier on him, so that she could disappear the next day and not come back. At least, he hoped that was the case. He hoped that he had not taken too much – that she had passed out somewhere. He called the hospital, too, to see if anyone matching her description had been admitted. They told him that no, no one by the name of Jersey had been admitted.
He only found out what had happened to Jersey when he one day happened to check the Vedarian Crownet. She had been turned, by someone called Kallista. His worry had driven him mad, so of course he was a little abrupt. He was able to take a few deep breaths. Was able to relax, at least knowing that she was safe. Refrained from saying much more online, and waited for her to come and see him, as she said she would. He sat hunched on the floor in front of the couch, staring at the flames in the fireplace. The dogs sat around him in a cult-like circle, Hunter with his head in Peter’s lap.
First, he heard the knock. Then, simultaneously, the voice in his head. Her voice, unmistakably. It startled him out of his reverie so that he jumped, and the dogs all jumped around him. They all god up and ran to the door, tongues lolling and tails wagging. Peter stood and strode toward the door himself, pulling it open. Outside stood Jersey – his Jersey, exactly the same but irrevocably different. The warmth did not radiate from her as it normally did; the cold did not touch her as it should. And yet there was still a healthy, human radiance to her. She looked well. She looked amazing. She looked better than amazing.
For a few seconds he just stood as the dogs poured out between and around his legs. He blinked. And then he let go of the door; he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his head in the nape of her neck.
”…I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured.
He also remembered the camera – the sunset and the sunrise that Jersey had filmed for him. He remembered that she’d told him she loved him, and that he had returned the sentiment. The giddy happiness that he had felt upon remembering the latter was enough to abolish most of his shame and terror. The giddy happiness lasted the majority of the night. Although he hoped that Jersey would return to the cabin, as had been her habit lately, he also knew that she still had a hotel that she could go to. And if it was safer for her to stay there for the night rather than to trek all the way out to the cabin, then so be it.
Peter made sure to feed as soon as he woke up. He trekked all the way to the Asylum, to the shop there. He started a conversation with the man behind the counter, wondering if it was possible, if Peter were to pay a little extra, to get the blood delivered to his doorstep. The shop owner told Peter he’d see what he could do, and to check back the next night.
He almost expected Jersey to be at the cabin when he returned, but she wasn’t. He texted her. He curled up on the couch to read a book, and so immersed was he that he forgot about the time passing. A couple of hours later he roused himself. He had no response. And Jersey had not yet come back. By this time, it was after midnight. Peter tried not to worry.
When the next night rolled around, he definitely decided that he should worry. Jersey had not been there to walk the dogs. They were restless when Peter woke up. Their leads were in the exact same place. Their food bowls were empty. This time, Peter tried to call Jersey. It went to message bank. He continued to try to call her, over and over, until finally it stopped ringing. It just went to message bank.
The conclusion that Peter came to was that she had come to her senses. She had told him she loved him only to make it easier on him, so that she could disappear the next day and not come back. At least, he hoped that was the case. He hoped that he had not taken too much – that she had passed out somewhere. He called the hospital, too, to see if anyone matching her description had been admitted. They told him that no, no one by the name of Jersey had been admitted.
He only found out what had happened to Jersey when he one day happened to check the Vedarian Crownet. She had been turned, by someone called Kallista. His worry had driven him mad, so of course he was a little abrupt. He was able to take a few deep breaths. Was able to relax, at least knowing that she was safe. Refrained from saying much more online, and waited for her to come and see him, as she said she would. He sat hunched on the floor in front of the couch, staring at the flames in the fireplace. The dogs sat around him in a cult-like circle, Hunter with his head in Peter’s lap.
First, he heard the knock. Then, simultaneously, the voice in his head. Her voice, unmistakably. It startled him out of his reverie so that he jumped, and the dogs all jumped around him. They all god up and ran to the door, tongues lolling and tails wagging. Peter stood and strode toward the door himself, pulling it open. Outside stood Jersey – his Jersey, exactly the same but irrevocably different. The warmth did not radiate from her as it normally did; the cold did not touch her as it should. And yet there was still a healthy, human radiance to her. She looked well. She looked amazing. She looked better than amazing.
For a few seconds he just stood as the dogs poured out between and around his legs. He blinked. And then he let go of the door; he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his head in the nape of her neck.
”…I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured.
[Wearing]
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
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Jersey
- Registered User
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- Joined: 24 Feb 2014, 22:55
- CrowNet Handle: JerseyGirl
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
It was strange, Jersey had thought one of the days she found herself laying awake on Kallista's apartment floor, how people could impact your life so well without intending to do so. They could turn your entire perspective around, or change your life entirely. She had already considered how the man named Austin had tossed a pebble into a lake and made the ripples that brought her to what she was now, how her life was. It had brought her to Peter - the man she loved, to Mora - her boss, and now to her sire, Kallista who had helped her so much in the past few days.
She hadn't wanted to stay away, but she knew that she would be distracted otherwise and given her stubborn nature, she knew that it wouldn't help her - nor would it have been easy for her sire to do anything. She paced to distract herself, she grumped inwardly and she had taken to training down in the Quarantine zone by killing zombies. Then, she'd return to her sire's apartment to shower and rest. Her journal, she had learned, was still at Peter's and with how she knew if she returned in the evening, he'd likely be awake and it wouldn't end well. She wouldn't have wanted to leave his arms.
Jersey, admittedly, felt like a ***** leaving without a word. But then again, she hadn't wanted to show up covered in her own blood, broken and beaten. Considering he mentioned throwing himself under a bus for a fadebeast, she didn't want to think about what he would have done if she had actually died.
By the time she was alright, Kallista had introduced her and Jersey's phone had been dead. And so she waited, folding her arms in front of her chest as she stood on his porch. Her senses still surprised her. She could smell the dogs, smell the snow and beyond all that, she could smell Peter's shampoo. The blonde ran her tongue along her lips and fidgeted slightly with her fingernails; they were scrubbed clean and had been painted a soft green that she had bought a few days prior to her death.
She smiled warmly when the door opened to reveal him, knowing that had she been alive, her heat would be beating hard. Jersey greeted the dogs first before looking back to him just in time to curl her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest while she held him tightly. "Peter, I'm so sorry." She breathed in his scent, reveled in the way her body fit comfortably against his and relaxed without any thought as she squeezed.
She hadn't wanted to stay away, but she knew that she would be distracted otherwise and given her stubborn nature, she knew that it wouldn't help her - nor would it have been easy for her sire to do anything. She paced to distract herself, she grumped inwardly and she had taken to training down in the Quarantine zone by killing zombies. Then, she'd return to her sire's apartment to shower and rest. Her journal, she had learned, was still at Peter's and with how she knew if she returned in the evening, he'd likely be awake and it wouldn't end well. She wouldn't have wanted to leave his arms.
Jersey, admittedly, felt like a ***** leaving without a word. But then again, she hadn't wanted to show up covered in her own blood, broken and beaten. Considering he mentioned throwing himself under a bus for a fadebeast, she didn't want to think about what he would have done if she had actually died.
By the time she was alright, Kallista had introduced her and Jersey's phone had been dead. And so she waited, folding her arms in front of her chest as she stood on his porch. Her senses still surprised her. She could smell the dogs, smell the snow and beyond all that, she could smell Peter's shampoo. The blonde ran her tongue along her lips and fidgeted slightly with her fingernails; they were scrubbed clean and had been painted a soft green that she had bought a few days prior to her death.
She smiled warmly when the door opened to reveal him, knowing that had she been alive, her heat would be beating hard. Jersey greeted the dogs first before looking back to him just in time to curl her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest while she held him tightly. "Peter, I'm so sorry." She breathed in his scent, reveled in the way her body fit comfortably against his and relaxed without any thought as she squeezed.
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
-
Peter Parkman
- Registered User
- Posts: 531
- Joined: 10 Feb 2014, 00:59
- CrowNet Handle: Spiderman
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
The warmth from within the cabin mingled with the chill from outside. It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t touch either of them. The dogs whirled around them like mini storms, their excitement unbounded. They sniffed and pawed at Jersey as if she were a new person, though they greeted her like she was someone familiar. They could sense that she was different. That she was no longer human. But they’d lived with Peter long enough that it didn’t bother them.
As soon as they were all inside, Peter closed the door behind them. The cold lessened, and the warmth from the fire reached out to them, tendrils curling around them, luring them to the hearth. Peter didn’t move, however. He remained standing just inside the door. He held Jersey at a distance, his hands heavy on her shoulders. His own shoulders were hunched forward as he looked her in the eye.
”You’re okay? You’re fine? How are you? Can I help?” he asked, the questions coming thick and fast. He wanted to tell her how worried he’d been, how terrified that she’d run away from him without turning back. How he’d dreamed that some vampire had drained her dry and had thrown her in the river, or into a trashcan somewhere. Worse still, that she’d been kidnapped, and was being used as a pet. He shuddered, even now, remembering those nightmares.
But she had apologised, and Peter couldn’t be angry with her. He couldn’t make her feel guilty. He cared only for her wellbeing and now that she was standing there, so close and so healthy, those nightmares dispersed like steam through an open window. As he was sitting there, in front of the fire, he’d recalled his own first week as a vampire. He recalled how much there had been to learn, and how stressful it had all been. He couldn’t complain about how he’d been through hell.
”I’m sorry. I was upset but this isn’t...it doesn’t matter, so long as you’re okay,” he said. Yes, she’d said she was fine on Crownet, but he wanted to hear it from her.
As soon as they were all inside, Peter closed the door behind them. The cold lessened, and the warmth from the fire reached out to them, tendrils curling around them, luring them to the hearth. Peter didn’t move, however. He remained standing just inside the door. He held Jersey at a distance, his hands heavy on her shoulders. His own shoulders were hunched forward as he looked her in the eye.
”You’re okay? You’re fine? How are you? Can I help?” he asked, the questions coming thick and fast. He wanted to tell her how worried he’d been, how terrified that she’d run away from him without turning back. How he’d dreamed that some vampire had drained her dry and had thrown her in the river, or into a trashcan somewhere. Worse still, that she’d been kidnapped, and was being used as a pet. He shuddered, even now, remembering those nightmares.
But she had apologised, and Peter couldn’t be angry with her. He couldn’t make her feel guilty. He cared only for her wellbeing and now that she was standing there, so close and so healthy, those nightmares dispersed like steam through an open window. As he was sitting there, in front of the fire, he’d recalled his own first week as a vampire. He recalled how much there had been to learn, and how stressful it had all been. He couldn’t complain about how he’d been through hell.
”I’m sorry. I was upset but this isn’t...it doesn’t matter, so long as you’re okay,” he said. Yes, she’d said she was fine on Crownet, but he wanted to hear it from her.
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
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Jersey
- Registered User
- Posts: 455
- Joined: 24 Feb 2014, 22:55
- CrowNet Handle: JerseyGirl
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
The blonde jumped when she felt the paw on her thigh, scolding herself as she let go of Peter to run her palms down over the tops of heads and behind ears, greeting the dogs with the same soft smile. It had surprised her, and she had missed them too. Had it really only been a few days? Jersey felt her smile turn into a frown as she considered it, stepping inside and out of the way of the door so it would shut without hitting her. When his hands touched her shoulders, she prepared herself for the lecture.
She'd deserve it, really, with the way she had made him worry - the traces of it on Peter's face and in his eyes had her flustered, but she supposed that's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? She ran her tongue along her teeth, idly thinking about what she'd say, how she'd explain everything that happened. Why didn't she come to him after her turning, or at least send a text from someone else's phone so he wouldn't freak out? Instead, her light green eyes widened slightly from his questions and she met his gaze. Jersey smiled softly once more, "I'm okay, I'm fine." She answered the first two easily.
The blonde had to think on the next, watching him shudder with a concerned expression before she moved her hands to rest against his forearms, squeezing them through his cardigan and thinking. "I think I'm as good as I can be considering the circumstances, there was a thingy in the sewers and it caught me in the stomach with a gunshot..." She shuddered, remembering how her clothes looked before she set it on fire in a garbage bin, "I'll tell you about it later." She murmured as she pressed her lips together, shaking her head free of the image.
But, the last question had her amused as she looked back up at the man, studying his features as if she'd been seeing him for the first time. "You're always able to help me, Peter, you never have to ask. You have from the moment I met you." When he apologized, she gave a gentle shake of her head, "Not me, I know you were worried Peter. She really is a wonderful woman. I'm alright, truly. I'm right here, home with you with no intentions on leaving until I have to feed unless you want me to shoo."
She set her back down, gently tossing it over to the back of the couch while she chewed on her bottom lip idly. The blonde tucked her hair behind her ear, reaching up to squeeze his hand affectionately as she inclined her head, "I've missed you." And she had, it showed in the way she stood, leaning slightly towards him and into his touch.
She'd deserve it, really, with the way she had made him worry - the traces of it on Peter's face and in his eyes had her flustered, but she supposed that's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? She ran her tongue along her teeth, idly thinking about what she'd say, how she'd explain everything that happened. Why didn't she come to him after her turning, or at least send a text from someone else's phone so he wouldn't freak out? Instead, her light green eyes widened slightly from his questions and she met his gaze. Jersey smiled softly once more, "I'm okay, I'm fine." She answered the first two easily.
The blonde had to think on the next, watching him shudder with a concerned expression before she moved her hands to rest against his forearms, squeezing them through his cardigan and thinking. "I think I'm as good as I can be considering the circumstances, there was a thingy in the sewers and it caught me in the stomach with a gunshot..." She shuddered, remembering how her clothes looked before she set it on fire in a garbage bin, "I'll tell you about it later." She murmured as she pressed her lips together, shaking her head free of the image.
But, the last question had her amused as she looked back up at the man, studying his features as if she'd been seeing him for the first time. "You're always able to help me, Peter, you never have to ask. You have from the moment I met you." When he apologized, she gave a gentle shake of her head, "Not me, I know you were worried Peter. She really is a wonderful woman. I'm alright, truly. I'm right here, home with you with no intentions on leaving until I have to feed unless you want me to shoo."
She set her back down, gently tossing it over to the back of the couch while she chewed on her bottom lip idly. The blonde tucked her hair behind her ear, reaching up to squeeze his hand affectionately as she inclined her head, "I've missed you." And she had, it showed in the way she stood, leaning slightly towards him and into his touch.
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
-
Peter Parkman
- Registered User
- Posts: 531
- Joined: 10 Feb 2014, 00:59
- CrowNet Handle: Spiderman
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
Peter could almost hear Enver’s voice in his head. Now that Jersey was a vampire, she’d tougher than what she was. Even if it was something that Enver wouldn’t actually say, Peter could imagine the guy now encouraging him even more—could imagine him bringing the condoms over himself. Peter had to blanket the thought, popping so soon into his head. Now as not the time to be thinking about such things, even though he could stop from staring at Jersey’s lips as she talked, as she reassured him, as she patiently answered his questions, one at a time. The relief of having her home was profound.
She mentioned something shooting her in the sewers, and Peter’s furrowed brows dropped instantly, eyes sweeping across the expanse of Jersey’s torso, one hand dropping from her shoulder to lightly, tenderly massage the fabric over the skin. It occurred to him that the wound might have healed by now; that she was indeed tougher, and he wouldn’t have to worry as much about her. Now there were plenty of other things to contend with. But if he had got by so far, than so could Jersey. He had to bite his tongue. He had to forcefully tell himself that he could not lock her up. That she would get hurt, just as he did, often, but she would be fine. His own wound, the bullet given to him by the hunter, was gone. So was the gash given to him by the Fae, on his way home one night in Jersey’s absence.
”I’ve missed you, too,” he said, the truth heavy in his words. He leaned forward, the one hand still spread across Jersey’s stomach and around her waist, while the other slid down the length of her arm to tangle her fingers with his. He kissed her, tasting the difference on her lips; that vague hint of blood, the coldness replaced the warmth. But they were still Jersey’s lips. They were still the lips that he remembered – the same plumpness, the same dimple, which he habitually ran the tip of his tongue across. His grip tightened on her hand and he began to lead her toward the fire, toward the lounge room, and the couch they most often found themselves curled up on.
”I didn’t want to take any more risks. I’ve got a guy from the city delivering my blood to me, now – the same time, just after sunset every night. I can get him to deliver some for you, too?” Peter asked. Jersey would find him just that tiny bit changed; his paranoia had reached a point where he was pedantic, and perhaps even a little OCD. No, maybe a lot OCD, these days. Sometimes, worry did this to a person.
”What happened?” he asked as he settled into his usual corner. It was a loaded question; a question harbouring a dozen other questions. But he assumed Jersey would get around to telling him the whole story in her own time. And they did have time. They had plenty of it.
She mentioned something shooting her in the sewers, and Peter’s furrowed brows dropped instantly, eyes sweeping across the expanse of Jersey’s torso, one hand dropping from her shoulder to lightly, tenderly massage the fabric over the skin. It occurred to him that the wound might have healed by now; that she was indeed tougher, and he wouldn’t have to worry as much about her. Now there were plenty of other things to contend with. But if he had got by so far, than so could Jersey. He had to bite his tongue. He had to forcefully tell himself that he could not lock her up. That she would get hurt, just as he did, often, but she would be fine. His own wound, the bullet given to him by the hunter, was gone. So was the gash given to him by the Fae, on his way home one night in Jersey’s absence.
”I’ve missed you, too,” he said, the truth heavy in his words. He leaned forward, the one hand still spread across Jersey’s stomach and around her waist, while the other slid down the length of her arm to tangle her fingers with his. He kissed her, tasting the difference on her lips; that vague hint of blood, the coldness replaced the warmth. But they were still Jersey’s lips. They were still the lips that he remembered – the same plumpness, the same dimple, which he habitually ran the tip of his tongue across. His grip tightened on her hand and he began to lead her toward the fire, toward the lounge room, and the couch they most often found themselves curled up on.
”I didn’t want to take any more risks. I’ve got a guy from the city delivering my blood to me, now – the same time, just after sunset every night. I can get him to deliver some for you, too?” Peter asked. Jersey would find him just that tiny bit changed; his paranoia had reached a point where he was pedantic, and perhaps even a little OCD. No, maybe a lot OCD, these days. Sometimes, worry did this to a person.
”What happened?” he asked as he settled into his usual corner. It was a loaded question; a question harbouring a dozen other questions. But he assumed Jersey would get around to telling him the whole story in her own time. And they did have time. They had plenty of it.
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
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Jersey
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- Posts: 455
- Joined: 24 Feb 2014, 22:55
- CrowNet Handle: JerseyGirl
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
She stepped forward, moving closer to him as he moved his hand before she set her own over it. She inclined her head softly, having been healed and watched him quietly. She ran her tongue along her lips to wet them, pulling the sleeve over her fingertips of her bare hand. Her light colored eyes went to his lips, to the broadness of his shoulders and then back to meet his eyes. Home. Jersey was elated to call something that, and as she thought about how 'home is where your heart is', she knew that it was true. Her heart was with him, even if it were unbeating. "I was worried you'd react badly about, well." She motioned at her fangs, hidden behind her lips while she glanced down shyly. It had been one of the reasons she hadn't come to him right away.
Even though she knew that wouldn't be likely, she had considered that maybe he had only wanted to be with the fragile Jersey. The embrace had it all fade away completely and she reached up to caress his cheek, admiring the way his skin felt against hers. Where it had been freezing to the touch once, she was just as cold as he was. Jersey kissed him in return, slowly enjoying his hold as she dropped her hand to rest against the side of his neck while her eyes fell shut. The hand tangled with his squeezed, the blonde ran her tongue along his bottom lip and as she pulled back, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her question fell from her thoughts and she followed after him, her thumb moving across his knuckles while she waited for him to sit before comfortably taking her usual place on his lap. Afterwards, she toed off her boots and tucked her feet underneath herself.
Hearing his words, she pressed a small kiss to the side of his jaw, "Understandable," Jersey didn't remember much of the evening before her turning, only bits and pieces. She relaxed on his lap as she considered his question, listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace with a curious realization of how much better she could hear, and the smell of dog everywhere as she set her chin softly on his shoulder. "You can if you'd like, Kallista gave me a tome, I've been feeding from blood bags... Through a long straw so it doesn't touch my tongue."
Her issue with blood had only increased with her turning, which, would be amusing at some point but for now, Jersey just thought it was a very large pain in her ***. "She kind of... lured me to her, after I left work. I was walking to buy my dinner, then it got foggy." The blonde reached up to run her fingertips through his hair, her lips pressing once more against his jaw, and then his lips. "It's a power of hers. She'd fed off me a few times, I remember her face."
And then Jersey looked down at him, "which, I didn't know we had powers, that was a fun thing to learn. From there... I was going to the place with the zombies, I can remember hearing the gunshot but it wasn't until later I felt the pain. I saw blood, then passed out." That bit didn't surprise her, she had told him on a few occasions that it would happen, too. "I could taste hers when I came to." Her expression said clearly she didn't appreciate that bit, "But... I can never complain, she kept me from dying and out of the ground. How have you been these past few days?" She asked, genuinely concerned as she looked down at him.
Even though she knew that wouldn't be likely, she had considered that maybe he had only wanted to be with the fragile Jersey. The embrace had it all fade away completely and she reached up to caress his cheek, admiring the way his skin felt against hers. Where it had been freezing to the touch once, she was just as cold as he was. Jersey kissed him in return, slowly enjoying his hold as she dropped her hand to rest against the side of his neck while her eyes fell shut. The hand tangled with his squeezed, the blonde ran her tongue along his bottom lip and as she pulled back, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her question fell from her thoughts and she followed after him, her thumb moving across his knuckles while she waited for him to sit before comfortably taking her usual place on his lap. Afterwards, she toed off her boots and tucked her feet underneath herself.
Hearing his words, she pressed a small kiss to the side of his jaw, "Understandable," Jersey didn't remember much of the evening before her turning, only bits and pieces. She relaxed on his lap as she considered his question, listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace with a curious realization of how much better she could hear, and the smell of dog everywhere as she set her chin softly on his shoulder. "You can if you'd like, Kallista gave me a tome, I've been feeding from blood bags... Through a long straw so it doesn't touch my tongue."
Her issue with blood had only increased with her turning, which, would be amusing at some point but for now, Jersey just thought it was a very large pain in her ***. "She kind of... lured me to her, after I left work. I was walking to buy my dinner, then it got foggy." The blonde reached up to run her fingertips through his hair, her lips pressing once more against his jaw, and then his lips. "It's a power of hers. She'd fed off me a few times, I remember her face."
And then Jersey looked down at him, "which, I didn't know we had powers, that was a fun thing to learn. From there... I was going to the place with the zombies, I can remember hearing the gunshot but it wasn't until later I felt the pain. I saw blood, then passed out." That bit didn't surprise her, she had told him on a few occasions that it would happen, too. "I could taste hers when I came to." Her expression said clearly she didn't appreciate that bit, "But... I can never complain, she kept me from dying and out of the ground. How have you been these past few days?" She asked, genuinely concerned as she looked down at him.
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
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Peter Parkman
- Registered User
- Posts: 531
- Joined: 10 Feb 2014, 00:59
- CrowNet Handle: Spiderman
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
It was somewhat hard to actually listen to the story now that she was telling it. Peter was preoccupied, distracted just by looking at her. Preternatural sight added a glimmer, a waxed lustre to everything. Every tiny little detail was exposed, everything, to begin with, and even now, looked rough and raw. Jersey had always been beautiful to him; there’d always been that sheen of humanity around her. It was as if, if she didn’t wash her hair for a few days, he could actually see the grease as it gathered. He could always see the oil on her chin, her nose, her forehead. After a long day at work he could tell, if her eyes were just the tiniest bit redder. And whenever she had blushed, good lord, it was like an eruption, an artist sweeping her face with the coolest, most alluring and illuminating shade of luscious pink.
Now, as she settled in so close to him, he realised that she was different. The grease and the oil were gone, as was the pumping of the blood that could facilitate that lush blush. It made her no less alluring, though. Now, there were new things to discover; if perfection could be created, it was in the face and skin and hair and eyes of another vampire. Like marble, almost, but pliant. The eyes like gems, all lit up from within, every single facet of colour bursting from the spectrum like they were colours that had never existed before. The light of the fire dance in the golden hues of Jersey’s hair, now like strings of silk created by the gods, if gods to indeed exist. The shades of gold had Peter transfixed, his fingers reaching up to curl into that hair, to twirl it, to revel in the smoothness of it.
When she mentioned being lured, however, that was when Peter’s attention snapped back into focus. His whole body tensed, the jealousy and possessiveness that he never knew he was capable of triggered, belated. Though he listened to the rest of her story without interrupting, he did not relax. To think that Kallista had been feeding from Jersey all along – each night – and Peter, then, had done the same. What if the two of them had continued to feed from Jersey? There was an instinctual fury—one that told him he had staked his claim long before Kallista had, and the woman had no right.
Where the hell had such an instinct come from? A voice asked in the back of Peter’s mind. It wasn’t as if he’d left his mark, and nor would he ever brand Jersey. She was not a thing to be branded. And anyway, his first concern was the fact that she had just fed from Jersey, lured her and then forced her to forget, but otherwise leaving her. Where? In the Quarantine Zone?
He did not answer the question posed to him. He clearly was not happy.
”No… no. You say she saved you? You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t put you there to begin with!” Peter raged, the words spilling from him in a barely contained torrent. ”And you two just act as if it’s all fine and dandy. Was she remorseful? Did she at least save you not just to save you but because she felt responsible and … and realised she’d made a mistake, just leaving you there?!” he asked. His fingers curled around Jersey’s hip, and it took all his energy to remain right where he was, rather than to get up and start pacing the room.
Now, as she settled in so close to him, he realised that she was different. The grease and the oil were gone, as was the pumping of the blood that could facilitate that lush blush. It made her no less alluring, though. Now, there were new things to discover; if perfection could be created, it was in the face and skin and hair and eyes of another vampire. Like marble, almost, but pliant. The eyes like gems, all lit up from within, every single facet of colour bursting from the spectrum like they were colours that had never existed before. The light of the fire dance in the golden hues of Jersey’s hair, now like strings of silk created by the gods, if gods to indeed exist. The shades of gold had Peter transfixed, his fingers reaching up to curl into that hair, to twirl it, to revel in the smoothness of it.
When she mentioned being lured, however, that was when Peter’s attention snapped back into focus. His whole body tensed, the jealousy and possessiveness that he never knew he was capable of triggered, belated. Though he listened to the rest of her story without interrupting, he did not relax. To think that Kallista had been feeding from Jersey all along – each night – and Peter, then, had done the same. What if the two of them had continued to feed from Jersey? There was an instinctual fury—one that told him he had staked his claim long before Kallista had, and the woman had no right.
Where the hell had such an instinct come from? A voice asked in the back of Peter’s mind. It wasn’t as if he’d left his mark, and nor would he ever brand Jersey. She was not a thing to be branded. And anyway, his first concern was the fact that she had just fed from Jersey, lured her and then forced her to forget, but otherwise leaving her. Where? In the Quarantine Zone?
He did not answer the question posed to him. He clearly was not happy.
”No… no. You say she saved you? You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t put you there to begin with!” Peter raged, the words spilling from him in a barely contained torrent. ”And you two just act as if it’s all fine and dandy. Was she remorseful? Did she at least save you not just to save you but because she felt responsible and … and realised she’d made a mistake, just leaving you there?!” he asked. His fingers curled around Jersey’s hip, and it took all his energy to remain right where he was, rather than to get up and start pacing the room.
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
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Jersey
- Registered User
- Posts: 455
- Joined: 24 Feb 2014, 22:55
- CrowNet Handle: JerseyGirl
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
Reaching up, she removed her hair from its braid to allow the soft waves to fall and frame her face, falling into his touch while she listened to him rage without saying a thing. She didn’t know what to say, finding that the man was more upset the entire thing than she was. After he’d fallen quiet, she gave a small sigh and slid her hand from his hair before her arms went around his shoulders loosely. Her green eyes narrowed slightly to show her disapproval, “Kallista was crying when I came to, my head was in her lap and she still continues to feel like **** about the entire situation, regardless of how often I tell her that I’m okay, and that I’m not angry with her.” Her thumb stroked along the skin on his neck, her lips turning into a frown, “It’s fine and dandy because I’ve accepted what happened and rather than be a bitter pain in her ***, I’d prefer to be her friend – her family.” The last two words left her lips quietly as she considered it. The blonde wouldn’t didn’t exactly see it that she had lost anything, her heart had stopped but she was still Jersey.
Her life had started, not been taken away from her. She didn’t have any memories before the bus accident, anyway.“I hate dwelling on things or be bitter about the entire thing because I don’t see the point in it. Yes. I died. I suppose if I had stayed dead, I’d be haunting her *** and yours.” She paused, hiding the amused expression across her features at the thought itself, “But... I was turned into a vampire.” She bumped her forehead against his, her expression soft while she looked down at him, “And in this city, I could have died and you know, not be found for months. Or years. I prefer this to being in the ground, decaying, and having you worry yourself to doing something stupid. I prefer this, to her forever feeling bad about having me die in her arms after she tried to stop the bleeding so she could take me somewhere to get help. Turning me was Kallista’s last resort, so you can stop as if she pre-mediated the entire thing and murdered me just because she could.”
With that, she readjusted so that her full weight – not that it was much to begin with compared to his strength – was on him completely. Jersey fell silent as it went through her head and what Kallista had said to her. She ran her tongue lightly over her lips before she turned her head to look at the dogs, watching them and then dropped her gaze to her arms around his neck. Prior to her turning, she would have pulled the sleeves of her shirt down lower after sometime after being exposed to his cold skin for some time, but now, she was just as cold and she wasn’t bothered by it. It dawned on her that they were on the same sleeping schedule, although the fact she awoke if something were too loud still remained. Some idiot had shot off a gun and she’d found herself staring in the direction of the door during one of the times she’d managed to fall asleep in Corvidae.
Her fingertips slid underneath his cardigan and his shirt, her skin gliding over his in gentle circles into the muscle that she wanted to relax. She didn’t like tense situations and she liked them even less when it came to Peter. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips gently across his forehead. “At least you don’t have to worry about me being this fragile little thing?” Jersey whispered as she continued the light circles, adding a small amount of pressure to his muscle.
Her life had started, not been taken away from her. She didn’t have any memories before the bus accident, anyway.“I hate dwelling on things or be bitter about the entire thing because I don’t see the point in it. Yes. I died. I suppose if I had stayed dead, I’d be haunting her *** and yours.” She paused, hiding the amused expression across her features at the thought itself, “But... I was turned into a vampire.” She bumped her forehead against his, her expression soft while she looked down at him, “And in this city, I could have died and you know, not be found for months. Or years. I prefer this to being in the ground, decaying, and having you worry yourself to doing something stupid. I prefer this, to her forever feeling bad about having me die in her arms after she tried to stop the bleeding so she could take me somewhere to get help. Turning me was Kallista’s last resort, so you can stop as if she pre-mediated the entire thing and murdered me just because she could.”
With that, she readjusted so that her full weight – not that it was much to begin with compared to his strength – was on him completely. Jersey fell silent as it went through her head and what Kallista had said to her. She ran her tongue lightly over her lips before she turned her head to look at the dogs, watching them and then dropped her gaze to her arms around his neck. Prior to her turning, she would have pulled the sleeves of her shirt down lower after sometime after being exposed to his cold skin for some time, but now, she was just as cold and she wasn’t bothered by it. It dawned on her that they were on the same sleeping schedule, although the fact she awoke if something were too loud still remained. Some idiot had shot off a gun and she’d found herself staring in the direction of the door during one of the times she’d managed to fall asleep in Corvidae.
Her fingertips slid underneath his cardigan and his shirt, her skin gliding over his in gentle circles into the muscle that she wanted to relax. She didn’t like tense situations and she liked them even less when it came to Peter. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips gently across his forehead. “At least you don’t have to worry about me being this fragile little thing?” Jersey whispered as she continued the light circles, adding a small amount of pressure to his muscle.
it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
skips when I'm with you, but I still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can
peter's distraction
-
Peter Parkman
- Registered User
- Posts: 531
- Joined: 10 Feb 2014, 00:59
- CrowNet Handle: Spiderman
Re: New Chances [Peter Parkman]
Peter could tell that Jersey wasn’t pleased with his reaction; she flew to the defence of her sire, and in the end, Peter was willing to submit. Mostly. He had a feeling that though he might never show it to Kallista, he’d always harbour resentment toward her. The what ifs burned in the back of his mind. Over time, the resentment might fade, but for the moment it was still too fresh, the fear and the worry still too cloying, still nagging at him even though he held the object of his desire in his arms. He had no reason to be afraid, anymore. She was right there, and she had not died. That, of course, he could appreciate. And he wasn’t beyond listening to reason.
So long as Jersey was happy, he could let the rest slide. He knew that if he pushed the matter, he might offend her. Her very humanity, though endearing, was her greatest weakness in this city. Now she no longer had that weakness. No matter how it was that she had reached this point, she was now immortal and impervious to many of the dangers that this city had to offer. Sure, there were still dangers. But they were fewer, and further between. Although she did not say it, outright, it was weighted on that one quiet word – family. Jersey now had somewhere to belong, something to call hers, people to welcome her and to protect her, beyond Peter’s capabilities. Strength in numbers, and all that.
Rather than continue to dwell on the negative thoughts that his fear procured, Peter instead relaxed as he focused on the positives. Jersey was no longer a secret. She was no longer a human that he would have to keep safe just because she was with him, just because she knew about him. Yes, his worry was lessened. He had to smile, though. She settled her weight against him, and her fingers—now the same temperature as his own skin—slid beneath the layers of clothing to massage the flesh around his neck and shoulders. He hummed under his breath, and a small laugh rumbled from the base of this throat.
”I might worry less, but I’m not going to stop worrying, completely,” he said. The muscles in his body don’t cramp, now, like they once might have before. But he supposed the muscles still functioned the same way. Knots had still formed, unbeknownst to him. Stress does that to a person. His head cants to the side as his eyes close, as the tension slowly eases out of his shoulders.
”…but you knew that already,” he murmured.
So long as Jersey was happy, he could let the rest slide. He knew that if he pushed the matter, he might offend her. Her very humanity, though endearing, was her greatest weakness in this city. Now she no longer had that weakness. No matter how it was that she had reached this point, she was now immortal and impervious to many of the dangers that this city had to offer. Sure, there were still dangers. But they were fewer, and further between. Although she did not say it, outright, it was weighted on that one quiet word – family. Jersey now had somewhere to belong, something to call hers, people to welcome her and to protect her, beyond Peter’s capabilities. Strength in numbers, and all that.
Rather than continue to dwell on the negative thoughts that his fear procured, Peter instead relaxed as he focused on the positives. Jersey was no longer a secret. She was no longer a human that he would have to keep safe just because she was with him, just because she knew about him. Yes, his worry was lessened. He had to smile, though. She settled her weight against him, and her fingers—now the same temperature as his own skin—slid beneath the layers of clothing to massage the flesh around his neck and shoulders. He hummed under his breath, and a small laugh rumbled from the base of this throat.
”I might worry less, but I’m not going to stop worrying, completely,” he said. The muscles in his body don’t cramp, now, like they once might have before. But he supposed the muscles still functioned the same way. Knots had still formed, unbeknownst to him. Stress does that to a person. His head cants to the side as his eyes close, as the tension slowly eases out of his shoulders.
”…but you knew that already,” he murmured.
J E R S E Y ' S
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW
HISTORIAN :: SHADOW