A return to the basics (Chain)

[Pi dArtois]

She had no idea where Michael was, in fact, long stretches of time went by where she didn’t bother with his location or what he did. Although her hold on him was strong she rarely yanked on the chain that connected his consciousness to hers, had no need to.

As far as having a living breathing human to do her every last wish, it had limited uses considering she was a day walking vampire but there were some, like the age old task of delegation. Her time spent doing chores that were, at this point, like having a rocket scientist count toothpicks to be put into a box, she had delegated menial tasks she needed to have done, but didn’t want to do herself. To him.

Except, she had no idea where the man was with the things she had asked him to collected. Knowing her connection to Michael would always be there made her think of Doc and of how she came to have this Doctor of her own trailing after her every want and need. It bemused her a little to know she had such control over another being and although he had proved himself a misogynist pig when she’d first met him, she was still uncomfortable with his slavish eagerness. Except, her little man-slave had not come back with what she’d asked him to get and that, unusual thing in itself was the reason she had set out to find him herself. Because if there was something he never did, was disappoint her. If she asked for something, he would, by dint of sheer will, get it for her.

Stepping through the portal she felt the pull of distance and space then looked around the inside of the Deserted Bar. It was as it ever was. Maybe the walls were a little greener from the slime and mould or maybe it was just her imagination that made it seem like the very walls of the place had become more polluted with the stink of the walking dead. Walking around the rotting bits of wood, refuse and biology on the floor she checked the area for her wayward human.

The outside was little better than the interior behind her and standing in the eave she stared at the expanse of deserted pavement and road. It was the staged scene from a zombie apocalypse movie and unlike the Hollywood set, this one was populated with the real deal. Roads that hadn’t seen maintenance in years stood cracked, hearty green weeds clawing their way out of those cracks as if intent on reclaiming what humans had obviously discarded. Uneven paving stones made walking the concrete jungle a treacherous ordeal and Pi was taken back, back to the time when she’d first come to this city and found this place of cordoned off horrors, as if the high fences and blind eyes could so easily forget what lay here.

In her mind she set up a grid, ticking off her current location, before moving to the graveyard, walking the area in a methodical pattern, her steps steady, her trained gaze searching for a human she was convinced needed her help.

The bigger truth was the fact Pi was… bored. She felt a bit out of her depth and left field sitting out there with a mitt on waiting for someone to hit a fly ball in her direction and while she was waiting, rot was beginning to grow under her ***. So this, this searching for a man who hadn’t been missing longer than an hour was only an excuse and she knew it. A reason to get out of the Den and move into the city. She thought creating the portals would give her (and d’Artois – what little of them still came around) access to all corners of the city. And it did. It had, she had begun to realise, also turned into a sort of self imposed prison that didn’t require her to set a single foot outside if she didn’t want to.

Walking around this graveyard, looking for a man who might not need looking for, was a bid to leave what she had created and to seek something else. Anything else. There was a danger in being too insular, but reaching no further than your eyes could see. It created a tunnel vision and with vision so narrow you stop considering the wider world.

Pi didn’t want to do that anymore, as if the more she considered forever, the smaller it got.

Pushing into the abandoned fire station she left the door ajar, what watery light that filtered through making her pause on the threshold and stare at the murky depths within. She shouldn’t have been surprised at seeing someone, but she was. She’d expected that this small sojourn would be a solitary one, as if walking through the streets of this recent past was something she would do alone. She was wrong.

The man in front of her was big, big in the way that told her he had been big before he was turned. His head was shaved and his back was to her so she wasn’t sure he knew she was there. It was probably wrong of her to assume he was a vampire but it was the first thing she thought considering what he was fighting and the fact he was obviously winning. New people, someone she had never met and didn’t know.

Her attention now was curious and assessing. She met new people all the time at Lancaster’s, but this was different. Here was someone like her, someone she could watch with a judicious eye and appreciate the form he had when he engaged an enemy. She could be a voyeur who understood why he chose the gun he did, how he held it and appreciate the accuracy of this shots when he took them. Leaning against the door, she decided to wait, wait, watch and later… maybe she’d even talk. Talk to someone… completely and utterly new.

Maybe this, is exactly what she wanted when she’d ventured out tonight. Some excuse… any excuse really, to claw her way out of her self imposed cage.

Attire

[Chaindog]

Another night had come and nothing to do. Most people would be out at a friend's place or at some party or bar. Not him. He had done it a few times since the change and well..He really didn't like social gatherings. A waste of time he thought. Him, he would rather be out training. To keep his skills and senses sharp. He decided to wear his camo's as the moon was full. What better way to stay hidden unless of course you stick to the shadows. He couldn't hide as well as the others but he did have a few tricks up his sleeve and he used them well. As for weapons, he took his trusted longsword, a .357 magnum and his sniper rifle Silent Death. So he left the Eyrie via portal. It only took a second but he hated that type of travel. Always made him think half his body would go somewhere the rest wasn't. He looked around and found himself in the QZ. Taking a short walk out of the supermarket he looked around. A few zombies lurking about. Why is it always the zombies? He wanted tougher game and he was hell bent on finding it. He drew his sword and made quick work of them, slicing and dicing them to pieces. A bloody mess if there was one. He didn't care at all. That wasn't even really a warm up. Now on to find bigger game. He made his walk around the area, passing through the graveyard and found a few ferals. Not much better than the zombies but at least it was target practice. He fired at one of them and watched as its head explode. The other took notice and charged at him. With steady aim he allowed himself a small smirk, then squeezed the trigger, sending its head all over the place. He slung his weapon over his back and carried on.

Nothing major had been found tonight so his next to last stop was the fire department. He knew at times there would be a mooncalf or even a fadebeast. He hoped that was the case tonight. He opened the door and closed it behind him, not wanting something to come in without him knowing it. And then it hit him. A mooncalf had jumped out from behind the busted down fire engine. Its massive claw had slashed him in the gut, spraying blood on him and the floor. He had to act fast and buy a few seconds time so he picked up the huge beast and threw it against the wall, hearing a loud crack as it hit. In an instant it was up and he had drawn his pistol. The beast charged just as Chain had squeezed the trigger. Taking his time and aiming for the legs at the things kneecaps, or whatever passed off as them. The beast had slowed down considerably giving him time to hop on top of the truck and firing again, this time at the beasts chest, placing four more holes in it. Its flesh had been torn open by the bullets and whatever was inside had leaked out, giving off an awful stench. Now the good thing about it being slowed down was it couldn't make that jump up to where he was, but it did claw and try to get up. Chain just shook his head, reloaded his pistol and jumped down behind it, firing the gun empty into the creatures back and head. After the shooting was done the creature slipped to the floor in a big mess.

It was when he had turned around to leave the place when he noticed someone leaning against the door. He tilted his head to the side in wonder on who would be here at this ungodly hour. He could tell by her scent that she wasn't human. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword but did not draw it. If this was someone who wanted to hurt him, she would have done so sooner.

"Good Morning." he said to the stranger in front of him and waited for her to either leave or respond.

[Pi dArtois]

“Bonjour”

Pi replied the smile on her face slight, a movement of lips that didn’t show teeth. Not that she was sure he could see her that clearly. She still stood in the middle of the door, the mangled architrave hanging over her head in the derelict firehouse. The larger bay doors stood sealed shut to her left, the remnants of a building that had once housed large trucks and above stairs (that were inaccessible) would be the place where men had slept their shifts, waiting for the call to do their jobs.

That was many years ago, years outside of her own recollection as this place stood this way for as long as she could remember. A whopping three years. No, she doubted he could see her, not with her standing with what limpid light was cast by the watery light of the moon behind her.

As soon as she considered how rude it could seem to stand where he couldn’t’ see her she casually shut the door, a slow release of her position to let the door swing shut behind her. Her eyes adjusted to the gathering gloom as the door swung closed on creaking hinges and she took her time answering more so he could have the time to assess her for any hidden dangers.

She wore a dress though, a casually comfortable number that looked out of place here. But she hoped her complete lack of aggressive attire would work in her favour and bleed what ever threat she might present. In her opinion few men considered her a threat really, until she chose to be one. Pi had always been a slight figure, and it had worked in her favour, as people invariably underestimated her.

These days, in this world she knew that sometimes, very dangerous things, could come in very innocuous packages and it wasn’t always appropriate to assume one small French woman, in a casually styled black dress and ballet slippers was an easy mark.

Pi wondered absently if this man, with his obvious talent with weapons, would underestimate her as so many… did. She hoped not, because his skill with the weapons he wielded, interested her.

“You handle that weapon… well.” She complimented in a purely objective fashion. It wasn’t a pick up line or an empty observation but a statement of fact. "What do you carry?"

[Chaindog]

“Bonjour”
“You handle that weapon… well.” She complimented in a purely objective fashion. It wasn’t a pick up line or an empty observation but a statement of fact. "What do you carry?"

Now that the door had been closed he was able to get a better look at the woman standing in front of him. She seemed harmless enough but he had been here long enough to know better. He would still be on his guard. At first he could not spot any weapon but that was rarely the case. Everyone here had a weapon stashed away. When she spoke it was with a hint of french. He had heard enough of it in Germany to know at least that much.

"A .357 Magnum. Small but very effective at close range."

He removed his hand from the sword while flipping open the round loading chamber and emptied the shells, then reloaded it with a quick load, something he found very useful for fast action. He put the gun back in the holster and snapped it closed, all the while keeping an eye on the woman. After another short minute of looking over the woman he approached slow and steady, showing no sign of being a threat. But with his size and demeanor it most likely didn't work as he hoped.

"I'm Chaindog. Creation of Dulce. And you are?"

[Pi dArtois]

“Pi” she answered softly. She didn’t know this person or who he was and it was always a risk she took to reveal who she was. Too many people had an opinion about what it was others stood for, as she had experienced first hand, but he had given his own name so it was only fair she returned the same. She was the one to initiate the contact and it would have been rude of her at this point not to. She didn’t expand on the name like he did, however, mostly because she wasn’t sure what his designation meant. It sounded like some sort of organization but she had been so out of touch with such things that the reference (or significance) evaded her.

Pi usually carried a weapon, but didn’t tonight. There was nowhere to hide it on her person, no good way to wear the back holster with the dress she wore and hadn’t really intended to do much more than search the QZ for a human ducking in and out of the place collecting zombie ears. He couldn’t do much more than that, and sometimes, poor ********, the zombies won against him but he was getting better at winning. Sort of.

“Nice to meet you.” Holding out her weaponless hands she shrugged in his direction, her expression self effacing. “I didn’t come prepared to fight. I’m here to find a … thrall who has gone MIA… somewhere. But when I do… it’s rifle. I made myself.”

She was a small woman, slim and as French looking as they came, which also meant, proportionally, that her hands were smaller and hand guns, at least the regular sized ones, were too big for her hands. She had to double grip them or she strained her hand to keep the thing steady. At least with her rifle she kept more control.

“What is Creation of Dulce?” she asked, wondering if it was too personal a question but hoping he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he hadn’t considered it an appropriate topic of conversation.

[Chaindog]

“Pi” she answered softly.
“Nice to meet you.” “I didn’t come prepared to fight. I’m here to find a … thrall who has gone MIA… somewhere. But when I do… it’s rifle. I made myself.”
“What is Creation of Dulce?”

He shook her small hand in his as he listened to what she had to say. She looked to be speaking the truth when she mentioned she had no weapons. But still...Things could be hidden. Only time would tell.

"Well let's just say Dulce made me what she is. And I do remember seeing you at a few points. If I recall you were on the bridge to the faction I am in. A few spoke highly of you."

Her mention of the person she was looking for intrigued him, but the fact that she made mention of a rifle got him even more. He would offer his help and maybe even get a peek at her toy.

"Well I'm not very good at finding a missing person but I offer my help in any way that I can. Perhaps a description of the person and a last known location would be a good place to start I would think."

[Pi dArtois]

Pi didn’t remember his face, but considering the fact she hadn’t actually been able to make any of the meetings Tytonidae had organized she could see why, it wasn’t like she had been on the Bridge long and even when she was, she hadn’t been able to meet very many people other than on Crow and she had seen first hand online forums were rife with many things that were too often said and shouldn’t or not said at all. She wasn’t sure really which one she preferred.

The news did make her consider him a little longer. The fact she didn’t recall his face wasn’t any surprise, at least not to her. Swiss cheese was a thing that could be used as an analogy for her self selective memory. Pi filled the gap with a smile, and a small nod. It wasn’t often she offered her hand to be shook and it felt a little awkward doing it now after so recently seeing him take down the shuffling dead. His grip was firm, and quick, letting her go so she could retrieve her hand back.

“I don’t need help finding him really. He is a doctor and sometimes… well, sometimes I don’t need him near as much as he likes to be needed so I send him here. What trouble can he get into?”

They were flippant words yet here she was, in casual clothes, walking through what amounted to a post-apocalyptic toxic waste area searching for a man who, well, who she was still getting used to having around if she was perfectly honest.

Chain, was proving welcome and unique a distraction, him being Tytonidae was weirdly appropriate. Despite the fact Elliot had a rather ingrained hatred of the group, she had discovered, she did not and had, in weirdly parallel times, found she had much in common with them. The fact Chain was one of them seemed to support her suspicion. “Thank you for the offer though. But… I do …”

Bright ideas don’t always have time to percolate before they are launched from ones brain and out into the open world. This one, had not stopped long enough in her brain for her to consider how her offer would sound but that didn’t stop her lips from moving, or for the words from slipping from her lips.

“I.. have a training room close, it’s been a while since I… had someone to spar with. If you’d like?”

[Chaindog]

“I.. have a training room close, it’s been a while since I… had someone to spar with. If you’d like?”

He had nodded to the idea of her suggestion. It had been some time since he had a sparring partner. Maybe this was the distraction he was needing. Something or someone to keep his mind off the ideas that were popping into his head. But first he needed to head back to his appartment to drop off his hunting gear.

"Why not give me the address and I will meet you at the location in say...15 minutes. I have a few things I need to get rid of and then I will be on my way."

He made his way towards the door after he got the information he needed and nodded her way.

"15 minutes. I won't be late."

He was never late for anything in his life and he wouldnt start now. He made the quick run to his place, dropping off his guns and even changing out of his bloody hunting outfit, then as promised made it to the location with just a minute to spare. He knocked on the door awaiting someone to open it. He wouldnt walk on in without permission.

[Pi dArtois]

Pi blinked at his suggestion and smiled. It wasn’t what she was expecting when she made the offer. Usually when you did things like that the other person made noises about coming over, offered to come by one day, and maybe never came, or at least made a date for sometime in the fuzzy future, but not right away. Not right that second, or in this case, in 15 minutes.

She wasn’t exactly dressed for sparring, the dress she wore hardly clothes she’d wear to go toe to toe with anyone let alone the behemoth of a man standing in front of her. Staring down at herself she threw the man a beguiling smile, most of it self deprecating as she realised she would need that 15 minutes to get home, change and meet him back there. “Fifteen minutes sounds good. I do need to … change.”


“Wickliffe” she replied, pointing in the fuzzy direction of that location, her finger mostly waving in the right way, since her Training Room happened to be just on the other side of the fence from where they stood. “Right behind the bank. You can’t miss my place, it has a huge pool inside, and weights, fighting mat.” She finished with another flash of teeth.

She couldn’t help herself because she was too much who she was not to take a minute to take his measure. He had her on sheer mass, but she wondered if she could take him with a little ingenuity. Too often people, mostly men, underestimated her size and took it easy on the woman they believed to be more fragile than she was, and as a vampire what little fragility she’d had when human was nearly completely eroded away. He also had her on reach, his long arms giving him at least a six to eight inch advantage on her. She’d have to keep out of the way of those meaty fists of his or she’d be hurting after.

Trying not to be too obvious about it she slid her glance away. It wasn’t even that he’d agreed to go to the mat with her, not really, but that didn’t stop her from assessing him away. Just in case. It always paid to be … prepared.

Her wayward thrall, with his disappearing act took a backseat. He’d turn up, he usually did. He’d be sorry, but not really, and he would pretend to listen to her when she counted off the many (good) reasons he shouldn’t hare off on his own for days without telling her and then one month later, he’d do it again. He wasn’t a child and she hated to treat him like one but he was human.. in a world, her world, that ate humans, chewed on their bones then spat them out. You’d be lucky if you made it to the hospital, or worse.

She felt a responsibility for her wastrel thrall, enough that ‘or worse’ wasn’t something she cared to see in his future. Tonight, she’d let him roam just another night and then if he hadn’t turned up by then… she’d go hunting again. This time, she wouldn’t let herself be distracted like she was about to be.

Pulling out her tome she waved it at him. “See you in 15.” Then used it to wing herself back to the Den, then quickly again to use the portal to the crypt to change. Fifteen minutes wasn’t long, but she’d use every minute of it to get ready.

~.~

In fifteen minutes

She was dressed in comfortable draw string work out pants when she flashed into existence inside her Training Room. Loose enough to be comfortable, but not so lose they would be a liability if they did decide to spare. Her hair was pulled back in a tight pony tail her gun and sword hung easily across her back and waist (in that order).