An Anniversary of Cruelty [Open]

[Grey (DELETED 5068)]

As she laid there on the North Catacomb's floor, she didn't even bother to open her eyes. There was blood in her mouth. Her teeth were still rattling together as her skull was crushed. Her body was broken and laying with the guts of Ancient Zombies plastered into the cotton and denim of her flesh. The disgusting remnants of the monster's bodies were slathered across her skin. That was, of course, for what they hadn't bitten into. Her flesh had been ripped from muscles and muscles from bones.

What wasn't broken, she was thankful she did not need to breathe. Her ribs had been crunched into her lungs multiple times that evening. Only, in this case, she stayed down. She did not even bother to get up, the furious Ancient above her got the sound of someone passing by and easily became distracted. The dead creature began to shuffle after a new target and that lead Grey to continue to lay there.

It was, after all, a little difficult to move when both her arms were broken. It would take a few moments to heal, she knew. Her energy had dwindled for the evening after work. Her steel toe boots were still on her feet. Her hair had been pulled back into a sloppy braid, the easiest remnants of care for the long locks besides a ponytail. She had no where to be that night. She had no one to meet, that she was aware of. And that's when the voice of her mother sounded.


Look at you. You are such a ******* slob. You can't do anything right!


She took in a breath as if to fight off the memories. The pain was so much better than the memories. The crunch and cracking of rib bones was something she'd rather feel than remember those nastily spat words of the worst maternal figure in her young life. Soon, she rolled over onto her back. The Zombie's teeth had dug into her leg, ripping open the denim and breaking the threaded seam. She was a slob. At least, in that moment, she was a brutal mess.

It would be a little while before she would be able to walk back to the Towers and gather herself a proper hot shower. Thankfully, not many people paid attention to who was at the stations so late at night.


How many times did I tell you the right God damned way to do something?!


The shriek. The slap. The grab of her upper arm and hauling her down to the room. Yes, Grey had nicknamed it. The room where she was beaten. In eight grade she was eighty-five pounds. Now, she tipped the scales over a hundred and a handful some years later. Licking her lower lip, Grey began to pull herself up as bones started to latch onto nearby shards and solidify after a few minutes underneath her flesh.


Stop moving. I said stop moving, you little piece of ****!


That's when she'd fight. When she'd ignore the commands for something that she didn't even do wrong. Sadness flooded her system. She failed. She failed the last four Ancient Zombies and the depression set in. It was like a hovering state of mind. Grey's attitude had shifted once Jesse had settled her into death. His comfort and care was certainly a reprieve from the past.

For some reason, the emotions that ran through her body no longer had certain definitions. She could mask her feelings, smiling and joking. Her concerns were no one else's concerns. She had a routine now. Sleep, work, training, and sleeping again. Some commended her upon her work. How else was she going to make money? Jesse certainly was no sugar daddy, and she refused to use him that way.


You need to find yourself a ******* man. Someone rich, girly. Ain't no man worth love. No one could love some little **** like you, anyways.


The cigarette smoke was so potent with that memory, that she actually looked around as she got herself onto her two feet. The first couple of steps were slow, but she headed towards the exit as she pulled her satchel up. She adjusted that olive green bag over her shoulder, feeling depleted that it wasn't full of bones that night. Her grime covered hands pushed up, flicking the fly away hairs away from her cheeks as she drew herself towards the exit of the North Catacombs.


You'll never ******* make anything of yourself. I told you. I told you how to do this!


Then came the blazing pain of her father's belt. It had opens her skin just after her Freshman year of high school. She slipped her hand behind her back, touching her skin there as if she were feeling for the scars that no longer occupied her flesh. The flicker of the torches upon the walls as she past the entrance and stumbled into the sewer again was the only witness to the new wetness upon her face.

Perhaps a reason why she had been so emotional was due to the anniversary of those scars. Once outside the catacombs, she eased herself against the wall of the sewer for a moment as if gathering her senses before she carried on.

And, she had the likeness of bringing a flashlight this time. After pulling it out of her satchel, she clicked it on.

[Velveteen]

Velveteen had been skulking around the sewers for a long while now collecting sewer fungi and killing the odd paladin or whatever else got in her way. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she scraped up yet another lump of the vile looking and disgusting smelling fungus as she mumbled to herself. Why on earth this ****, and she meant that quite literally, was needed for traps she would never know but for some reason it worked. She was just very glad that breathing was optional at this point and she could actually avoid the smell by just not doing it. Another zip lock bag was filled, sealed and tucked away and she was certain she probably had more than enough by now. The vampire considered just toming back to the Eyrie but that lasted all of a second before she decided to kill a few more things before calling it a night.

She hitched the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and wandered towards Cherrydale. Enough time had spent underneath the city that she had become quite accustomed to the many twist and turns and could navigate the dank passages with ease, though why someone would spend that much time down here was beyond her, even though she did so herself. With all the refuse from above and the rotting flesh that now mixed with the former it was really quite disgusting. She figured the secret was not to dwell on it and do what needed to be done.

Her keen vision allowed her to see in the dark as if it were day which often allowed her the luxury of being able to sneak up on and surprise the enemies that lingered down here. This made things a hell of a lot easier as she could disappear into the dark at any given corner should things go sour. So when she rounded a corner only to be literally blinded by a flashlight being shone directly into her face she was caught off guard. Her hand came up to protect her eyes, though it was too late and for a short time all she could see was two big white spots. A string of profanities rolled off her tongue that would have made a sailor blush when it occurred to her that the only one that would need such a thing would be a human.

Velveteen chanced a sniff at the air and underneath the overwhelming stench she detected blood, but it was not human blood and it was even vaguely familiar to her. “Jesus ******* Christ. Is that really ******* necessary?” She growled as a hand came out and slapped the torch from the unidentified individual’s hand none too gently. The device landed heavily on the stone floor and rolled a ways before it flickered and went out, drowning the pair in darkness.

It took a moment for her eyes to readjust and when they did she did not expect to see what she did. “Holy ****, Grey. You looked like you been chewed up, spat out and fed to the dogs. Are you ok?” Her tone had softened a little as she drew nearer the other woman, checking over her shoulders for whoever might have done this, expecting to see even a dead body or two but found nothing. “And what are you doing down here? Jesse will have fuckin’ kittens if he sees you like this.”

[Temperance Avila]

Temperance despised the sewers, but since the military had essentially fenced off the mausoleum entrance, there was little she could do aside from take the short dark trip from Cherrydale station to the catacombs. In honest, the allurist was never too enthused about the area, but without the darker more secluded parts of the city, she was bound to be a sight for sore eyes when trying to sharpen skills above ground. She recalled a time when knocking down and single handedly slicing a gangsters throat nearly got her jailed or worse, exposed to humankind. The masquerade was the one law that Temperance believed in since becoming a member of this prominent populace. She eventually learned ways to blend in with the mortals. Shopping at the same stores, lingering at the same banks, frequenting the same clubs for hours on end; eating, drinking, without a flinch or second glare. All it took was a well dressed lady, showing off poor martial arts and wielding a blade for someone to cause a stir. So here she was, making way through the water lines just to slay some underground beasts. She'd burn her clothes afterwards and take a hot shower.

Nearing the sewer bend, she heard a commotion. The allurist stopped immediately drawing her short blade and shut off a pocket light that she used as a guide. She knew military was above ground, but foot soldiers lingered below. Temperance's wrist was steady. Flat black ballet shoe rose ever so slowly. She inched forward as calm as she could be. The sewers were dark, save from a few bits of light that reflected off from the street grates above. Another step more and she kicked something away from her, it rattled and splashed across the tunnel floor. That was when she heard the profanity. Such words had not struck her thoughts since the last time she visited the local pub for poker with her father. Temperance pocketed the short blade. She knew foot soldiers were more cautious and quiet while wandering about. She hoisted up one side of loose cotton dress she had on, clicked the pocket light on with her thumb, it lay concealed in her palm and trudged her way over. Her foot skimmed the item she kicked earlier. Temperance reached down and gave the flashlight a good shake. The bulb or batteries rattled inside.

"You ladies lose something?" She said in her approach and shook the dead flashlight.

[Grey (DELETED 5068)]

Embarrassment washed through her at the sound of the harsh words. There was an instant, crashing sensation of guilt through her system. Immediately, instead of the sensation to run from the furious sounds of the person in front of her, she stood there. Grey tried to plaster herself closer to the cold, coated in grime wall at her side. So much so, her movements were one that could easily send another on the defensive. Her boot heels shuffled back at the words that were sworn in that flare of irritated, feminine voice. Her eyes shot down when she felt that connection break with the flashlight in her hand. She had tried to melt into the wall itself. For years, she thought if she was quiet enough, she could just disappear into thin air. While the slaps and kicks had come, she squeezed her eyes as tightly closed as she could. She thought that the floor could just open and swallow her whole. She thought about how a wall could just open and envelope her, tugging her into the next room or into a place of safety. But never in her many years of enduring the physical blows of a sick woman had any of that come true.

It was almost a mode of pure, blatant defense. It was as if the woman before Velveteen had been backed into a corner with no sense of fight left within her. It was an instant pose of a submissive stance. She was bracing for impact, her entire body going rigid awaiting the onslaught of the possible variety of blows. Grey was in a corner with her hands open by her side and her eyes downcast. It was a pose that meant no harm, perhaps. It was a pose that was ingrained into her consciousness.

Her grip on the flashlight seemed to be non-existent as the force seemed to rip it right from her grip. The sound of the cheap plastic smacking across the grime upon the floor beneath her had Grey's eyes attempting to track it. It rolled away. To instantly stop and stand still. To drop her eyes like a child who just had done wrong. Only this time, at the next line of her attacker, she seemed to relax after the voice of the woman and the sudden care had broken the angry dialogue. There were no bullets that came pelting her way. There was no blows to the face. There was no sharp slice of a blade through the air. "Velveteen."

The rush of realization seemed to let the stoic mask of her face fall. Her chin lifted, looking up to the woman with her bright blue eyes. Grey had not mastered the twists and turns of the sewers yet. She felt much more comfortable with the flashlight. Even though Micah had warned her, she used it carefully and shut it off quickly if the sounds around her changed. But, obviously she was not expecting to blind a fellow creature of the night. Next, in a rush of breath from her pained chest was an apology. "I am so sorry. I didn't realize that you were there. I wouldn't have turned it on and I most certainly didn't mean to blind you. I get turned around easily down here. I'm just learning."

The rationalizations were out of her mouth before she could control them. When she was nervous, she babbled. She lifted her hands, fingers no longer broken in defense of the Ancients had Grey taking a bit of a step away from the wall. Grey's body had been healing, but the awful looking clothes saturated in guts and gore cling to her skin. Arms, neck, and face was covered in bruises from hitting the floor or the wall or making contact with the strong Zombies' nails certainly didn't help her case.

Her fingers tucked her hair from the ruined braid behind her ears. She didn't even dare lick her lower lip - a habit she controlled when her face was covered in something unmentionable. As Velveteen's concern drew stronger, she wanted to reassure the woman that her kindred didn't have anything to worry about. The tingling nerve pain from that broken arm was barely noticed now. "It is okay. I mean, I am okay. It will go away. I heal by the time Jesse gets home. He doesn't see me like this."

Except, that one time that he came to get her from the Flats. Corvidae Flats had certainly been a learning experience. She had to have Jesse's help getting home. He had seen her covered in the dirt and grime from the Zombies that shuffled there. He didn't however see her with flesh ripped away from muscles and bone exposed. Grey lifted and cradled her more broken arm against her middle. Even as they spoke, the tissues knitted together and the odd angle of her jellied arm became more solidified and at the ninety degree angle it was supposed to bend at. "I was training. He knows I train, I think. I... The last couple of the Ancients... got the better of me."

The path of the flashlight had been briefly abandoned given Velveteen's concern. Now, however, Grey watched as an unknown figure approached them. It had bent down, picked up her item, and sashayed closer. Grey could make out the figure and the dress as her own eyes adjusted to the darkness. However, Grey still seemed to struggle briefly with the outline of the creature's face. As the lithe figure came closer, Grey happened to nod. She could begin to make out the woman in the darkness. While her eyes had been pulled away from Velveteen, Grey couldn't help the frown upon her face. She couldn't even hold onto a flashlight, let alone vanquish zombies.

That's because you are no ******* good at anything.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I have such a terrible grip. Can't even slay a few zombies let alone hold a flashlight. Thank you for getting it for me." It was a combination. An instant recognition that she had done wrong, that she performed poorly, and an appropriate thank you for doing what Grey hadn't had a chance to yet - retrieve her belongings. Although, Grey instantly knew better than to attempt to reach out and grab the flashlight. It wasn't offered back to her and she would not be so rude as to yank it from the woman's grip.

For a moment, the flashlight gave a sputter and then inside there was a plink of something breaking. It was okay, Grey assured herself. It only cost a few dollars. She could get another one.

She stood there with the two women, giving them both what seemed to be a now unsure look.

[Velveteen]

The dark haired vampire frowned as she noticed Grey’s immediate response though she was momentarily distracted by the new arrival. She looked familiar. A face from the past and it took her a little while to register. Temperance. That was a bit of a surprise. Velveteen was sure the woman had left never to return or something. A single, darkly lined brow rose as she briefly wondered if her and Zo had rekindled their relationship. She knew all too well how much the mystic missed this woman and hoped they had. But they were thoughts for another time.

She gave the new arrival a curt nod and then shook her head. “Nah. We knew where it was but thank you. It has been a while, how have you been?” A slight curve of her lips passed as a polite smile though her silver hues never wandered far from the woman who seemed to be trying to become one with the wall.
It was a polite response and while she was only partly interested in the other woman’s answer her concern was focused on Grey. It was, after all, not like she had deliberately tried to blind anyone. Velveteen suddenly felt a bout of guilt at the harshness of her tone though she barely understood why. She was who she was and was more than comfortable with that. How others reacted to her was not something that usually affected her. Maybe it was because she actually cared about Grey. Perhaps it was her care for Jesse that made her feel this way. Most likely it was the adverse reaction it caused or possibly even a combination all three.

Grey seemed far from the woman that Vel had met that night at the tattoo shop. That woman was strong, defiant and stubborn in her determination. This Grey was the absolute opposite. Perhaps her wounds ran much deeper than they first appeared. It would be untrue to say that she was torn between concern and ....what was that other nagging emotion and gnawed at the edges of her conscience....distaste perhaps?
When Grey apologised for losing the torch Velveteen couldn't help but look at her like she had just grown another head. “Why the **** are you apologising for something you didn't do? I did that and if I fucked it I will replace it but perhaps something a little less blinding would be better.” She stepped forward to retrieve the torch from Temperance, not really snatching it but not waiting for it to be handed back either. “And I still don’t think Jesse would be too happy seeing you like this. Training or no. Thank you Tempy.” She added before stepping back and watching Grey, both confused and curious as to what had caused such a change in the woman.

[Temperance Avila]

Any worry of threats had been immediately cast aside as an unknown woman spoke apologies laced with low self-esteem. Simple phrases directly pointed out the fact she was fairly new to her vampiric traits. At first she had not known just what to say. Temperance could normally have passed for a warm-blooded mortal; hearing such random articles about quarantined land and diseases could easily transpose words like the game of telephone to closely relate to zombies and the like. However the allurist did just return from a random hiatus away from Harper Rock. Her appearance was slightly off-colored, nails grimy, skin emit a distinct scent to others just like her. She tucked a mental note away, for later, to remind the women that such blunt notions to complete strangers might get her killed or worse.

”You’re both welcome.” Temperance pointed the pocket light toward the ceiling. It cast a low glow in the immediate area. She gave a genuine smile, prided anytime she could help someone out. Even as small a gesture, even in the worst of times to someone else, it was help to them.

She recognized Velveteen’s tone and slick movements. Temperance felt as though she was an acquaintance of Vel. The pair had only been engaged in the same room or conversations at infrequent times, if one were to ever ask specifics. Mostly both being business-type women with known titles and both with relationships wrapped around Zodiac. Aside from that Velveteen was not a women just anyone would miss. ”I’m am well, Velveteen.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was all she could say in a position where concerns about her own well-being were not really intended to be heard while standing in stray sewer water. It was also impolite to carry on like an old friend without asking the concern of the other.

She listened as a stern response fell fluid from the necromancers tongue and the object slipped from grip to hers. She did not feel threatened by not completely handing the item away. The flashlight was not hers to hold and she would indeed return it, broken or not.

”Anytime, perhaps…” She paused for a second, ran fingers through short wavy locks to push a few strands from her face. ”If I may.” She moved forward beside Vel and directed attention to the woman falling apart at the seams. Her tone was lighthearted and warm, almost motherly. ”We’ve all been there before, dear. Listen to Vel. Never be ashamed or never concede to something you didn’t do, you’ll learn in time and look back to laugh at how these broken bones were ever so frail. Let it not bring you down, but understand that these are all lessons learned. ” Inspirational notes thick in her words. Something she herself had not felt in sometime since last August return. It would all come back to the allurist in time too, she believed it.

Small fingers produced a clean light blue handkerchief from a hidden side pocket on the skirt of her dress. A flick of her wrist opened it from its tightly folded state. She then offered the woman the palm sized pocket light. Temperance did not really need it to return from the catacombs. She knew the way as if a map were etched to the back of her hand. ”It's yours. Oh listen to myself. When such places, “ gestured to the surrounding gloom with an uncertain grin. ”distract us, where are my manners. I’m Temperance Avila.” She felt as though she spoke plenty, but yet not enough to know the women in disarray. She knew deep within her heart that Velveteen would take pristine care of her and she was not here to compete. She wanted to know her though, intentions were of innocence always. She'd not overstay her welcome thought and was happy to show a bit of affection to one in need.