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[Remington Rothfelder]

MAY 11, 2014: AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE

His opponent was pretty new, new enough that the guy had only taken a few jabs to the face and was already trying to land a haymaker, swinging wildly in hopes of landing one good hit. Unfortunately, in throwing his full weight into it, the man was overbalancing himself, and sacrificing already shitty defenses. To say that Remi wasn’t impressed would have been an understatement. Had he been in the audience, he probably would have found the whole thing amusing, but it was his *** on the line if he got cocky. Having trouble?” Even whilst taunting an opponent, he was characteristically laconic, and wore a smile that said he’d already won.

He was just waiting for the other guy to figure it out so that they could get a move on with ending the fight.

He heard an animal sound on the other side of arena. Oh good, the guy had heard him, which was a feat all its own with the roar of the crowd all around. The warehouse had an industrial look, very plain, with what looked like thin sheet metal walls. There were no windows, and the ceiling was high with wooden rafters lined with dangling rows of light bulbs. It was well lit, and the arena itself was really just a roped off area with corners made from wooden crates. The rest of the area had been cleared out to be used by people who either wanted to participate or just enjoy the show. Some of the men and a smattering of women were holding up money.

The blow came from out of nowhere, right to the gut and the wind left Remi’s lungs, air slicing sharply past his teeth. His heart was beating in the cage of his chest as he stepped out of the way of the follow up attack. And that pretty much heralded the end of the match, because no sooner did his opponent move to strike again, than Remi threw himself forward so that he could monopolize on the momentum to slam his elbow right into a face. The hit was clean, and there was a crunch as a nose crumbled under the pressure. The other man dropped to the ground abruptly, which left the victor to walk off, sliding under the rope so that he could scrub blood off of his elbow. He had a few bruises and a sliced up lip, but it was his fourth round of the night so he figured he was doing better than most.

These meets took place about once a month, and always drew a different crowd each time. But there were always a select few regulars, and Remington happened to be one of them. But the person who brushed by him to get into the ring most certainly was not. There was a double take as he glanced over a shoulder and then turned. What the hell was a chick doing? Sure, there were a few that could hold their own in a fight, but for the most part, going up against a guy of equal skill but greater muscle volume was a lot like jumping in front of a train. And this woman was petite, a tiny thing by comparison to the hulking figures crowding around. Bouts weren’t regulated, so she wasn’t going to be matched with someone around her same size.

Clearly she was crazy as ****.

[Velveteen]

The heavy metal plate lifted just a little as silver eyes peeked from beneath. With the current state of things she was more cautious when exiting the sewers these nights and chose to do so in the more remote, seedier parts of town. The coast was pretty much clear except for the two shady figures who looked rather suspicious as they looked about before disappearing into the shadows cast by a nearby abandoned warehouse. It wasn’t a particularly unusual sight. Not around here but tonight Velveteen decided to check it out. Maybe she’d find some easy cash before heading home. It only took a couple of steps in that direction before her keen sense of hearing picked up on a lot more than two voices coming deep from within the warehouse. In fact it sounded like a rather large crowd and they were yelling...or cheering. Whatever it was going on in there, Velveteen wanted to see.

Her hands were dug deep in her pockets and she kept her head down as she approached. Two rather large thugs stood by the door. A quick assessment of the situation by the dark haired woman meant things were going to go one of two ways. They would let her pass without question or they were gonna end up hurt …. or worse.

Personally she hoped it would be the first. She was supposed to be out hunting and her husband would be expecting her home soon. She didn’t really want the added hassle of a couple of dead humans to contend with. Her hope was quickly dashed as the two goons crossed their arms and blocked her path, guarding the door against her entry. “And where d’ya think you’re goin’ then?” One of them asked with a stupid smirk. It was fairly obvious by the way he spoke that he was from the lower echelons of society and had likely taken one hits too many to the head.

She still wasn’t too sure what was going on inside so chose her words carefully. “My brother is inside. He told me to meet him here.” She lied through her teeth, but hoped it was vague enough to seem legit. She did, however, expect they were just unintelligent enough to feed her the information she needed without realising it.

“Your brother ay? He can’t be a regular cause I would have remembered you.” Thug number two chimed in.

Velveteen shook her head. “Nah, he aint a regular. Not that I know of anyways.”

Both men apparently found that rather amusing as they guffawed before stepping aside and one heaved the heavy door open. “Then you better get on in here little lady. He’ll probly need someone to pick up the pieces and carry ‘im ‘ome.”

Lights blared from within and noise assaulted her senses as she made her way past the pair and into the crowd. The vampire lingered by the entrance for a little longer after the heavy metal door was slid shut behind her. The smell of sweat, blood and cheap perfume stained the air. An underground fighting ring. It had to be by the look of the set up. She had heard about these but never actually seen one and for the moment all thoughts of hurrying home were forgotten.

She was mesmerised. The whole area seemed electrically charged with excitement and blood lust. It was dirty, it was brutal and why anyone would willingly put themselves through such punishment was beyond her but as she pushed her way through the crowd she could not tear her eyes away from the makeshift ring. The one dude was taunting the other and appeared to be no stranger to the scene. It didn’t take long before it was all over and she was eager for more. Yelling broke out around her as the crowd cheered and people started yelling to collect their winnings. It was like going to the circus as a kid and she found herself easily swept up in the moment.

It was time for another fight and they were looking for anyone who wanted to enter the ring. The prize for winning was some meagre amount of money that was barely worth the effort. For some she figured the money was incentive but for most she wouldn’t mind betting that it was the thrill and notoriety that would come with winning that attracted most of these poor souls. Before she knew what she was doing her hand as up and she was making her way to the ring. The woman brushed past the the tall fighter who had just exited to stand expectantly in the centre of area separated from the crowd by a loosely strung rope.

Micah would be furious if he found out where she was, let alone what she was doing and for a moment she cursed herself. This would not be the first time that curiousity and spontaneity had led her into less than savoury situations. She also realised she was going to have to be careful. A warehouse full of humans were not going to believe that she would be any sort of match for the fighters gathered unless she made it at least a little realistic. “Way to go, Vel.” She mumbled to herself as she stood there with all eyes on her whilst laughter began to rumble throughout the crowd.

[Remington Rothfelder]

He considered turning on his heel fully and stepping into the ring to cart the little lady off. No insult meant, but she was pretty, and he’d have rather she not ended up with her face smashed in because some guy had mommy issues. But he held back, because the way she stood there in the middle of the ring told him that she felt like she knew what she was doing. He was intrigued by that level of confidence, because it was rare that anybody could back it up. Not only that, but he wasn’t really the hero type. So his hand slid back to tug at his t-shirt, tugging it from where it was tucked into a back pocket, half trailing out. Used the thing to wipe the sweat from his brow and then cast it over his shoulder like a used towel.

He hadn’t been able to get away from work early enough to change on his way to the warehouse, so he’d decided to step in wearing his jeans and boots. Normally he would have gone barefoot and in shorts so that he could have full range of motion and not accidently do more damage with the heavy steel toe than intended, but nobody seemed to have cared. Not his problem y’know?

He lazily gravitated back towards the roped off area so that he could hover along its edge. Nobody seemed to want to get in his way after how he’d laid the last guy out, which was nice. He didn’t have patience to shove his way through a crowd. No sooner had he reached the edge than the silence of the woman’s daring wore away. You see, when she’d first stepped in, everyone had gone quiet, looked at her like they weren’t sure if she were joking or not. But the spell was broken, and some thick necked ******** stepped over the rope so that he could end up on the other side. The man was easily 220 lbs and looked like it was pure muscle. He had biceps that would have shamed tree trunks, and was tall enough that he looked like he could have flicked the woman in the arena and sent her flying.

Remi’s first reaction was to call the guy a pussy, because that was just disgraceful. But hey, it wasn’t his reputation. He found himself rooting for her, even though he didn’t normally cheer for the underdog. He respected anybody with that much in the way of testicular fortitude, even if they didn’t have any in the literal sense to speak of. ”Hey, Bambi, my money’s on you.” Pet name in progress. She looked like a doe-eyed deer right then next to a mountain lion, so he figured it was good until he thought up something better. The guy she was going to fight turned to look back at Remington and the look he got was one of confusion.

No, dumbass, I’m not talking to you. Jesus ****, what was wrong with some people? Remi didn’t look amused and Thick Neck seemed to get the picture, so he turned around because the fight was about to start. There was a count down and then a buzzer to announce that the combatants could begin. Thick Neck didn’t seem to be worried about the possibility that Bambi might have some skills because he immediately lunged into the fight, starting it off with a rushed punch.

[Velveteen]

Bambi? Did someone just seriously call her that? Her gaze flicked sideways in a rather weak attempt to find the culprit but her attention was immediately drawn back to the hulk of a man standing across her. His arms alone were thicker than her thighs but she was not one to show any signs of ...well anything really. She shrugged off her jacket and threw it in a corner of the makeshift ring, her gun tucked securely inside. She reached back and tied her long, dark locks into a loose knot at the back of her head. It was all about the show right? Her fingers flexed and stretched as she weighed up her opponent. It was going to take a conscious effort to not let instinct take over so as to keep her movements realistic but she did have the advantage of predictive reflex and an extensive knowledge of the anatomy so when the buzzer sounded she was ready.

It was pretty obvious that someone thought he had this in the bag as he came at her, his cocky confidence would be his undoing and giving little to no thought about the possibility that she might actually know what she was doing was a mistake. Though it wasn’t entirely his fault, he likely had no clue that some random vampire would show up and decide this was a good idea. But all in all this was going to be way easier than she had anticipated and as he rushed her it was made obvious that he was used to fighting people of a much larger stature. In that instant her senses were heightened and the world around seemed to slow down. Silence seemed to surround her yet and the only things she could hear was his heartbeat and the sound that rumbled deep within his chest, the beginning of the grunt that would be the driving force behind the punch that would never find its mark.

Each second played out in her mind before it actually happened and she found the hardest part of all was not to move too fast as she ducked under that hammer of a fist that came at her with vicious intent. One knee dropped low not only allowing her to avoid the promised pain but the position offered more power to the upper motion of her arm as she snapped the heel of her palm upward into the base of his sternum. The air was driven from his lungs and the sound echoed in her ears as he struggled to recapture his breath.

His heart began to beat faster and shock, or perhaps it was the acknowledgement that he clearly underestimated her, widened his eyes as the natural reaction of his body was to lean forward. The read veins that criss-crossed the whites of his eyes looked like miniature road maps and the bead of sweat that rolled down the bridge of his nose seemed to take forever. The clarity of that single moment slowed things down to a state of almost frozen but only for a split second as the world caught up to her once more in an overwhelming rush of noise and movement. Icy fingers curled about the back of his head when he bent over and pulled it down to meet her knee that came up to connect with his face with a sickening crunch. She could have shattered his skull with such a move but she was careful to use only enough force to break his nose. You didn’t have to be strong if you fought smart, though the added advantage of supernatural powers was certainly a plus.

A secretive, grin danced wickedly across her lips as the huge, tree of a man fell backwards and landed heavily on his back, blood spattered and out cold. Velveteen stood there for a moment enjoying the rush that seemed to course through her. It was no wonder that some could get addicted to such a thing. It was not a feeling that she had the luxury of enjoying for too long though as she blinked, suddenly realising where she was and that is was not where she should be. She could hear the shocked whispers of some and the outcries of others but before anyone could say anymore she grabbed her jacket and disappeared into the gathered crowd as she made her way hastily to the exit.

[Remington Rothfelder]

By the end of the fight, one prediction held true; it hadn’t lasted all that long.

Of course, at the beginning, everyone gathered in the warehouse had thought it’d be Thick Neck that would be the victor, and even though Remi had been rooting for the lady. Well. He wasn’t stupid. He figured she’d end up skating around the arena for a few minutes trying to dodge attacks before eventually the guy snagged her and snapped her in half. That is obviously not what happened. The male combatant was to cocksure, had thrown away his defense and gone all out trying to attack Bambi. There were at least a half dozen moves the guy made that Remington would have turned around, could have had the big guy on his *** a few minutes in.

So it honestly didn’t surprise him when the dark haired woman was able to stay a step ahead. At least, it wasn’t suspicious at first, but as he narrowed his gaze on the scene, drinking in more of those details, he realized she wasn’t just moving in response to triggers on Thick Neck’s side. Whoever this chick was, she seemed to be able to guess his next move. Now this wasn’t unheard of, but it was the sort of thing one saw in a pre-choreographed fight scene. Remi knew a thing or two about those, which was probably the only reason he even noticed to begin with. The whole thing was too fast to be sure though, so really it was more of a sneaking suspicion than anything else, and he wasn’t about to try and call foul and make himself look like a dumbass.

Especially not when everyone was looking on in awe.

Whatever Bambi’s day job was, she could have quit and taken up a career in entertainment fighting, because she certainly sold it well enough to keep the crowd going. But it was over almost too abruptly, with the spurt of blood when a face came away from a knee and a ruined nose was revealed. The expectation was that she’d stick around for the next round, maybe take on few more guys and possibly win some cash at the end of the night. Instead, she ducked out and got lost in a crowd of men that went from silence to raucous cheering in a matter of seconds. But Remi wasn’t about to just let her go that easily. He didn’t go after her because of how well she had done, though that had gotten his attention. He went after her because she had just walked away, like the whole thing had been nothing. He could respect skill, but he wanted to know what had driven her off.

He was careful to weave through the throng after her, and ended up on the other side, so he could push himself through a metal door. He was behind her by about a half minute, so by the time the cool night air brushed his skin, she was nowhere in sight. It was like she had melted into the darkness. The area wasn’t exactly well lit anyway – because the last thing the ones running the fights wanted was to draw attention. There weren’t any cars in the parking lot because those had all been tucked a decent ways off so the participants could walk. But there were tons of different ways she could have gone because there was a street stretching out in front of the lot. There were buildings to either side, with dark alley’s in between.

His shirt was sweat soaked, so he didn’t want to put it on. Thus he began down the street bare chested – following his instincts, since there really wasn’t a clue as to where she could have gone. It should have occurred to him that a woman with that much kickass in her probably wasn’t the type one should have ambled after into the dark, but Remi always had liked to take chances. "Bambi. Where the hell are you at?” He muttered under his breath.

[Velveteen]

The smell of blood still permeated her senses, even as she stepped out in the cool night air. It had stirred a hunger in her that the blood bags she survived on failed to sate. The vampire lingered outside the exit for a moment longer than she should have as she considered waiting around for a quick bite, just a little taste of the warm, living fluid straight from the source. She’d be quick. Discrete. She rocked on her heels as indecision kept her from moving forward despite the fact that she knew she needed to get home. Raven coloured strands fell about her face as she shook off the urge. She’d already drawn far too much attention tonight, it was best that she not run the risk of being seen again.

Velveteen started off down the street at a brisk pace and pulled her jacket on as she went, intending on taking the sewers to her destination though it took only a moment for her to come to a complete dead stop. Something did not feel right and she began to pat herself down frantically. The gun that was meant to be secure inside was not there. Had it been any other weapon she wouldn’t have hesitated and would have just bought a new one the next day but no amount of money was going to replace that particular piece. “****, ****, ****, fuckfuckfuckfuck.” She muttered angrily to herself as she retraced her steps.

The sneaking suspicion that her gun was still inside that warehouse somewhere grew with every step she took. She never felt or heard it fall which she was certain she would have out here in the quiet. Inside, however, in her rush and with the noise it could have happened easily. The dark haired woman groaned aloud. What if someone had already found it? “**** **** ****.” Her vocabulary tended to take a real dive in the face of adversity and right now was no different. There was no way she could go home without that gun. None at all.

She was far too busy scanning the sidewalk and its surrounds to notice the figure walking towards her. With shoulders hunched and her hands buried deep in her pockets she looked just like any other who would walk the streets this night, well to most anyway and if she had of been paying more attention to where she was going she might have stepped around the male coming her way rather than running directly into him. It was almost like running into a brick wall and she was stopped dead in her tracks.

“Oh jesus. I’m sorry. I was-.....” It wasn’t until she looked up that it registered that he was vaguely familiar. In fact, he was the guy who had fought before her and if she wasn’t mistaken he actually looked quite comfortable in there among those people. Maybe he could be of use of her. “Looking for something. I...think I may have dropped it inside. I...uhhh, don’t suppose you could help me out?” She asked, her Australian accent likely very obvious. She really had no idea how she would explain what it was she lost but nor did she really want to risk going back inside herself either.

[Remington Rothfelder]

He walked, and for a good while he felt a lot like a fool. What kind of man went off into the darkness looking for a woman that had made it clear she could take down someone at least his size? Seemed like the start to either a really good porno or a really bad horror flick. One of those fifty-fifty coin toss deals, but he wasn’t what anyone would have called a gambling man. Remi had tons of vices, but pissing away his earnings on anything other than a sure thing wasn’t really one of them. He was all set to turn around, maybe he’d make it back in time to get in another round, maybe make a little more cash before the evening officially came to a close.

Seemed like a solid plan until he heard a distinctively effeminate voice, and it was cursing like a sailor. Hot. So he continued in her direction, rounded a corner and the next thing you know, Bambi was running headfirst into his chest. It was the first time he’d ever heard her speak, well really speak. He noticed her accent immediately. Australian? Nice. He had actually worked with someone in the past to carefully cover his own. His father had been an oil tycoon born and raised in Texas – his whole family had been there for generations, as part of the Corpus Christi upper class. But with that came a deeply southern drawl Remington had weeded out. Because there was this assumption that if one had a southern accent, one had to be slow. Or so conservative it was painful.

Remington was neither of those things, and while he was not exactly ashamed of his heritage, at least not that part of it – he didn’t like being judged by snotty people.

“Sure thing, Bams. You got a real name?” He wasn’t trying to be rude, Remington was just very direct with people. He didn’t really engage in small talk, and tended to favor being right to the point whenever possible. Save everyone some time and frustration. And so, because he had agreed to help her retrieve whatever she had lost, he turned on a heel. He had no real clue why he had consented, other than that he found her fascinating. But what man wouldn’t have been intrigued by the mystery she provided? He had this urge to sling his arm across her back, drag her close while the two of them made their way back towards the warehouse. Only reason he didn’t was that he didn’t know much about her, and one of his rules was that he didn’t do married women or ones who were in relationships.

Less drama that way.

And a fine piece like that wasn’t about to be single. Could have quoted him on that.

“I’m Remington, by the way. Most just call me Remi. And how about for me being such a gentleman, you tell me how it is you took down Moby Thick Neck.” He was pretty sure the woman had to be gifted in some kind of martial arts he had never heard of. At the very least. The truth of the matter was that she'd been fast as lightning, just quick enough to take the guy down without being ‘abnormal’. That seemed…off to him. And he had some pretty killer instincts when it came to people. That was the good thing about the relative silence of night inside of Harper Rock. When he went off walking on his own; it gave him plenty of time to think.

[Velveteen]

The woman was obviously occupied and in a hurry to find the thing she had lost as her eyes continued to scan the path ahead. She paid little mind to the man beside her though the smell of sweat laced with blood hung heavily about his person. From the little she had seen of him in action she doubted any of the blood was his.

She was almost relieved when he offered to help her retrieve her gun though he had no clue what he was looking for yet. He may change his mind at the last minute as anybody in their right mind might be considering already. However, if her gun happened to be back inside that warehouse, he would be her best bet. A real name? Didn’t everybody have one of those? Her head bobbed as she moved forward, silver orbs scanning the foot path though with every step the hope of finding her piece outside grew slimmer. “Sure I do.” She replied absently, taking a moment longer to realise that perhaps that was his way of asking what it was.

She wasn’t ready to share that information just yet and a frown creased her brow as it seemed he expected her to say something further though she was saved when he spoke again. There it was. The question she was dreading. Her shoulders rose in a casual shrug. “Anybody who knows anything knows how to the knock the wind out of a person.” She cast her glance sideways wondering if he would leave it at that or question her further. “I’m sure you know how to as well. What sort of name is Remington anyway?” Guys like to talk about themself right? Maybe this one did too.

There was something a little different about him though. He didn’t seem to be the same as most of those guys in there. He seemed a little too refined too....pretty to be in a place like that and she found herself wondering what it was that drew him to such things. Velveteen shrugged off the thought. What did it matter anyway. Once she had what she needed she doubted she would ever see the guy again. She returned her focus to the path ahead and prayed inwardly that that she would find her gun soon.

[Remington Rothfelder]

An informative answer that was.

The only thing it really told Remington about the woman was that she liked to hold her own counsel, that she was smart enough to keep her cards close to her chest. One of those people who didn’t let anyone see too much at once. She was cautious then? No. He didn’t get that feeling from her, not exactly. That or she was just a cheeky woman with a good head on her shoulders. Either way, he chose not to press further. If she wanted to keep her name to herself, he wasn’t about to demand more in the way of details. But that was Remington in a nutshell. He wasn’t one of those people who pressed unless he really intended to push the issue. Generally with some form of violence as a ‘reasonable’ ultimatum.

But they didn’t know each other that well just yet.

“Most people seem to.” He returned a second later, and let it drop.

He’d already turned on his heel so the two of them could make their way back towards the industrial warehouse. His footfalls were heavy compared to hers and he could not stop himself from glancing sidelong and down towards the woman. She was a bit of an enigma and any man in his right mind was intrigued by those. The world was full of the boring and easy, rarely was there someone, man or woman alike, that had the ability to present some kind of challenge. Especially for someone as seemingly put together and yet raw as Remington was.

She was intriguing, or he probably would have told her to **** off. The whole thing smelled a little shady, and while he wasn’t adverse to that sort of thing, he wasn’t looking for trouble.

“True.” He lied. No. That was a ******** answer, and he knew it, but it was much like with her name. He wasn’t about to try and make her tell him something, even if he was exceptionally curious. No matter how well trained she was, going up against someone with that big of a size difference should have posed a problem. And then the diversion. Contrary to popular belief, Remington was able to tell when someone was trying to misdirect him. Most people took offense to that kind of thing and attempted to force a person’s hand, but he felt no such compunction. More often than not, people gave up information more freely when they were under the impression they were in complete control of a situation.

And he could be a bit of a sneaky ******** when he wanted.

“It’s a family name. My great grandfather was named Ezekiel Remington Rothfelder. I think before that it was a maiden name on my great great grandmother’s side. " He wasn’t all that sure. His parents had meticulously put together a long history of his family. Genealogy was important to them, just as much as their southern pride. He’d never been all that interested in it. Not as a kid, and not as an adult.

“What did you say you lost?” She hadn’t, but they were quickly re-approaching where they’d first made eye contact.

[Velveteen]

The woman’s head bobbed absently as she listened without really paying too much attention. It was fairly obvious that she was somewhat distracted as she barely afforded the man an obligatory glance to show she was paying attention. Instead she was busy scanning every inch of the path of ahead, hoping to find her gun before he did. She wasn’t too sure of the gun laws in Canada but walking the streets with a handgun back home would have her *** hauled down to the local cop shop and questioned relentlessly if she couldn’t produce a license, which in this case she couldn’t. Though luckily for her, Remington Rothfelder did not seem to be a cop. Though all of a sudden she was wondering. Perhaps he was under cover. Maybe that is why he was at that place. Busting it from the inside out.

She chuckled softly to herself and shook her head. She liked to think that she had an overactive imagination but the truth of the matter was that Velveteen was generally paranoid. Secrets. She had learn to keep them from an early age and always having to be careful like that tended to **** with a person sometimes. Especially when the lies followed. Living a charade for the benefit of others meant you had to keep your tracks well covered and always have a good back up plan. She could be meticulous when given the time to think but on the fly? Was a whole other matter.

“I didn’t.” She stated flatly. “But it’s uhhh….” Think Velveteen….think! She stopped walking and searched her mind hastily. “A lighter. A lighter that kinda looks like a…..a gun.” Riiiight. “A gift that my colleagues gave me when I left the….umm….Police Force a few years back.” Ohh that was good. Now if he is an undercover cop he might say something. “Back home...in Australia.” Her gaze fell away unable to look him in the eye at this point as she kicked herself mentally. Dumbass. If nothing else, perhaps it might buy her a little time even if only a second or two, which turned out to be just enough to find what she was looking for as she spied the dull metal lying beneath a bush just up ahead, only partly hidden by the shadows.

A distraction. She needed one and needed it now. Another step forward was taken and at that moment her ankle rolled and she fell to the side. Her upper body twisted and she yelped as she fell towards him in the hope of getting enough momentum to cause him to stumble and fall as well. A little use of celerity while he is busy not falling and she could be back here with her gun before he even hit the ground. Perfect. And so her plan was in motion.