Desperado-(Rion)

[Satine]

The fire was dying. The source of it’s heat was gone as soon as the thoughts of him vanished for the time being. Satine would be over the moon once the son of a ***** was out of her damned head for good. It was so vivid each time he came calling that she could almost smell the stench of his dirty socks glued to his unwashed feet. She could pinch and twist her cold skin ridiculously tight and it would have no effect. How her mother never shot him before she grabbed an ax was beyond her. It must have been the drugs the woman continually ingested, snorted or shot up. It had to have been. No one in their right mind would settle for living with the likes of Chester. Surely prison was a blessing in disguise to the hopefully sober woman that gave birth to her.

Fifteen minutes later with no sign of his return the roll of the budding necromancer’s body took her to the curved wall of the pillow pit in the center of her hotel room in Pandemonium. One too many black silk lengths of fabric twisted around her limbs as she attempted to free them from the caressing hold they had on her. She groaned as the possibility of not getting up at all tempted her to sink into the refuge of silk beneath her. It was short lived.

The rise of that insatiable appetite beneath the layers of Satine’s cold skin demanded to be fed. So much for being able to ride out the hours of darkness where she was. She could hear a faint pulse mixing with sound of a breath dragging slowly to an end. It was a beautiful sound that tugged at her dry mouth, her knotted up stomach and her skin. She could taste the promise of it on the surface of her flesh. Hunger was her constant companion.

Satine moved cautiously. Each limb still was heavy with fatigue as if the endless hours she spent sleeping were not enough. She would only grow weaker staying where she was. Cinnabuns. The random grab for distraction from the outskirts of her questionable mind was just what she needed. Yes, those would work. Freshly baking in the mall. Not the ones in the vacuum closed tubes from the store that you had to crack on the edge of the kitchen counter to bust open. Real cinnabuns. The thought of that made her gut rot inside. How could she ever eat those balls of artery blockage and feel satisfied? Blood. She was going mad from the lack of it. She popped up and crawled out of the pit of pillows like a soldier in the boat reaching land ready to rise and invade the space ahead of her.

Wisps of material lifted in the air floated back down as one piece after another was pulled out for a review that lasted as long as a single blink of Satine’s silver orbs. Towards the bottom of the chest her hands finally ceased their flurry of activity. She pulled out a pair of black glove tight pants and a top that was the last item left in the trunk she was digging in. Figures. Bunny hated her that much? The black top clearly was not her size. She took the shirt in both hands and gave it a firm pull. She was too tired to give a **** what she looked like. Hunger was winning out.

Once Satine worked her body into the half planned outfit she slid her feet into the first set of shoes she could find in her increasingly irritated mood. Lime green sandals snapped loudly at the backs of heels as she made her way out of the door and into the lobby. If she got to the fade portal and landed in Bullwood she would be feeling better in no time at this time of night. That was what she figured. The pulse she heard before and the fading breath was not needing to hold on much longer. She was on her way. Just as she approached the fade portal things changed. What happened next was the last thing she was prepared for.

[Rion]

The steady sound of dripping water was the only thing the Necromancer had heard for hours. It never swayed from its hypnotic beat and instead chose to offer her the only comfort she could handle. Exhaustion had seeped into her bones, her mind weary as her sapphire gaze swept the small body laid out on her autopsy table. The rage she had felt when the toddler had first been brought to her had long since dwindled to a sensation that could only be classified as numbness as the hours had passed. When the young girl had first been presented to her, Detective Rodriquez had almost lost his heart. He had carelessly thrown the girl onto her table, and she had seen red as the child’s head connected with the metal. He had no care for the dead, and he had absolutely no love for her in his heart. They had once worked in quiet professionalism, but over the months, it had been replaced with pure hatred.

He wanted her fired.
She wanted him dead.

If she had the ability to breathe, she knew that she would be damned near hyperventilating in that moment. She had been faced with horrific sites before, but nothing had braced her for the gruesome sight of the toddler’s corpse. Her stomach had been ripped out, intestines strewn around. The second she had unzipped the bag, she had sent her intern away. She knew the woman wouldn’t be able to handle what had been beneath the black plastic. She was a vampire, for crying out loud, and her stomach was churning as if she were an adolescent. With an agitated growl, she pushed from the table and curled her fingers into her hair, uncaring that she was staining her blue curls with the girl’s blood. She had been hunched over her for hours, the digital clock on her desk counting away the minutes silently, taunting her with the knowledge that she was no closer than she had been in the beginning.

There was absolutely no evidence, no rhyme or reason for what had happened to the girl. Frustration gripped her and she sent her fist out, the sound of plaster shattering filling the silence of her office. The wood rained down around her, and the scent of her blood filled the air as she shook her head. There was no way she could explain that away, not easily, and she knew it was coming out of her paycheck. “So ******* be it,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she turned back to the girl. Her eyes were closed, but she knew how green they were. They had been filled with innocence at one point, but had stared up at her for hours with a constant horror. As her stomach twisted again, she grit her teeth. She knew without checking the time that she was far behind her feeding schedule.

As if on cue, her phone began to vibrate against her ***, and she knew without a doubt who was assaulting her. There was only one person that called her during work hours, and only one of the two people that didn’t give a **** if they disturbed her or not. Yanking the device from her jean pocket, she held it to her ear and pressed ‘answer’ her voice snapping over the end of the line. “I’m going, Osiris.” She knew her tone was harsh, and she knew he didn’t deserve it, but she felt as if she were near her breaking point. She had seen so much, done so much, and she was no closer to finding the monster that was doing this than when she started on the force three years ago. All the killings were the same, and yet they each held a difference that made her hard to pinpoint motive.

Her hands shook as she snapped off her gloves and turned off the light, leaving the toddler in the darkness as she bowed her head in defeat. “I won’t give up on you. He’s going to get what the **** is coming to him, don’t worry. I’ll find the truth,” she whispered into the shadows, and for a moment, she swore she heard a child’s voice tell her that she had faith in her. Insanity was a strange thing, and she shut the door behind her before locking up. Once she was sure no one was around, she pulled her tome from her bag and read the inscription, her body instantly disappearing. Her intention was to be in and out of the hotel before anyone noticed her, but intentions never went as they should.

The second her booted feet touched the floor, she knew something was off. The lobby was empty except for one familiar face, one face that still left a bitter taste in her mouth. The obsidian strands of her hair danced around her face, familiar silver eyes locked on something just behind her. When the Necromancer turned, she met the gaze of a fadebeast, the creature so grotesque that it caused her to stumble back a step. She had only faced two in her entire time as a vampire, and she usually got her *** kicked each time. Of course she would, she thought bitterly as her blue eyes jumped back to Velveteen – or who she thought was Velveteen.

“I’m not in the mood for your ****, Velveteen. Not tonight, so knock it off.” The words fell from her in a growl, and she knew in the back of her mind that she was probably setting their whole ‘trying to cooperate’ thing back a few notches, but she was so ******* tired. When the woman didn’t move, something seemed to click in her mind, but it wasn’t enough for her to think rationally. The beast moved at the sound of her voice, and she watched as it lunged towards the woman, fingers outstretched and ready to rip into her stomach. “Are you ******* dense? Did he **** you so hard you can’t think straight? For fucks sake. Move!” The second the words tumbled from her lips, she knew that it didn’t matter.

The woman wasn’t going to do a damned thing but stand there and get mauled. What the hell, was she going to try and pin this on her later? It didn’t seem her style. She was more of a ‘in your face, *****’ woman. Without a second thought, Rion dropped her bag to the floor and shrugged from her lab coat, the white jacket falling to the ground as she unhooked her gun and lunged over the altar. The report of her weapon echoed through the lobby as she buried four bullets into the beasts shoulder. She knew, though, that it wouldn’t be enough. Before her feet even touched the floor, it threw its massive arm back and sent her flying through the air, her body crashing into the shop’s counter. “****, that’s going to leave a mark. If you don’t ******* move, I’m going to let it eat you,” she gasped, stars dancing before her eyes as she lifted herself unsteadily to her feet.

"Round two, ***********."

[Satine]

Satine was nearly ready to take the step that would send her into town and on her way. That is when she heard a female voice she had never heard before reading her the riot act. Surely the ***** was confused. Satine spun around on her heels to confirm it. The raging woman was going on like she had a stick up her *** at the very least and a chip on her shoulder all at the same time. The fight was in full swing as the female continued to rant as if she was the only one in the world doing a thing about the less than appealing monster that was giving her double what she was dishing out. With all the commotion it took a second for Satine to register that the dark haired woman likely thought she was Velveteen.

A smirk was forming across her lips as the insults continued to fly. Being fucked so hard she was dense? Wow. This one really must have more than that unseen stick getting her all riled up. Someone was having a hard time not being in Velveteen’s shoes and it sure as hell was not Satine. The chick seemed to have it bad for the tattooed tower of a vampire that was married to her sister. This could be amusing.

With a light click of her hideous sandals Satine stepped aside to let the woman be all bad *** and go after the beast. The last thing she was going to do is steal the raging bitches thunder and lightning. She found, she could have the honors. Satine shook her head and chuckled as the steps she took had her once again farther from the female. She would be perfectly content to not hear the sounds of that voice anytime soon. That was of course until she was about to use the fade portal and remembered why she was even able to use the damn thing in the first place.

The King and Queen of Hearts. She referred to them as such in the privacy of her mind. She had so much yet to learn about their history and the large lineage they had created but she did know one thing without question. Her sister had a mate who would crush anything and tear apart a world for her. This was their castle and it would appear that they seemed to have an unhappy camper in wonderland. One that she would be expected to assist under that whole family taking care of family thing Micah talked to her about and that she was still getting used to.


The beast was not letting up and the woman was getting hell tossed back at her. This was a mess guaranteed to get further out of hand if she stepped another inch into the space that would deliver her body elsewhere. She pulled out her sword and kicked off the sandals that could disappear for all she cared. Satine was feeling the rush of a whole different kind as she got bold and hopped up on the counter and took a brave dive towards the beast and the female. As her body was airborne she had two thoughts. One...it was going to hurt like hell when this was over. Two...the woman she was coming to the aid of was going to get an earful as soon as the beast was down.

“I-N-C-O-M-I-N-G!”

Satine yelled at the top of her lungs. She had no clue what the plan was on one of these deals but it seemed to be a good idea to let the female know she was about to get the help she wasn’t anticipating or perhaps even appreciate.

[Rion]

It was completely unlike her to find herself in situations that had nothing to do with her, and she knew that she only had one person to blame for the change. Micah. From the moment he had shoved his foul tasting blood down her throat, she had been bound to him in a way she couldn’t process. She found herself going out of her way to do his bidding and she listened to him without question. Oh, there was arguing and she would outright refuse at times, but by the end of the day, she had done what he requested. She hated it. She missed the quiet of her own mind, the ability to do things on her own terms. She hated that he tried to take her away from her passion, that he felt the need to protect her. The one thing she didn’t hate, however, was him. Her emotions, though twisted in the eyes of his wife by a curse beyond her control, consisted of what she could only define as love. It was a love that, in retrospect, she probably should have felt for her father before she ripped the life from his eyes. It was the only reason that he was able to remain in her life, and the only reason she let him past the walls.

In return for his constant intrusion in her life, she would do whatever it took to keep his family safe.
Even if that meant battling a disgusting, grotesque beast.

“God, I really hate him,” she muttered out-loud as the beast charged forward, his hand outstretched to land another blow against her form. It outweighed her by more than she could calculate, and she knew that she didn’t stand a chance in close range. Quickly, she began to file through the training in her mind, grasping for something – anything – that Micah would have taught her. At the last second, she remembered a move she had seen him do and quickly grabbed the edge of the shop to hoist her body over it in a backflip. As she did, she fired her gun, a few bullets catching it in the chest. As it stumbled back with a howl of frustration and pain, she swept her gaze to the woman. She saw the indecision on her face, as well as the smirk as she stood torn between the portal and the beast. It took her a full second to realize what she was wearing, and she knew that this wasn’t Velveteen.

If the clothing hadn’t been enough to give her away, the way she moved would have. She flung through the air with the grace of a newborn and she knew that the woman was in for one hell of a ride. There wasn’t a way that she was going to come out of this unscathed. With a muttered curse, the Necromancer pushed herself from behind the safety of the shop just as the other all but latched onto the beasts back. Well, that’s one way to handle it, I guess, she thought with a touch of amusement as she danced back a few steps. “I suggest holding on tight. You’re in for one hell of a ride, fledge.” Her voice suddenly lacked the heat it had earlier, and there was a spark of laughter in her blue eyes as she aimed at the beasts head and fired shot after shot, stepping back after each one until she felt the wall against her back. With her sibling distracting him, she was able to get in a few decent shots.

Osiris is not going to let me live this down, she thought as she fired one last shot. She watched as the beast crumpled into a mess of nothing, her hand pressing to her throbbing side. As if on cue, her phone began to vibrate, his ringtone loud as it broke the brief silence. Ignoring it, she holstered her gun and brushed the back of her hand against her brow, eyes locked on the woman. “You almost had me, right up until you charged in with a blade. Velveteen could have just looked at the thing and it would have ran away screaming.” Dusting her hands off, she rolled her shoulder back with a hiss of discomfort.

“You good? That ****** was like a bronco and you don’t look much like a bull rider.”

[Satine]

There was something to be said for planning ahead. Satine was sure of it. She just wasn’t able to recall what it was since her *** felt like it had just been transplanted to the top of her head and her arm holding her weapon either was gone or lost somewhere between mid-flight and the less than skilled landing on the back of the beast. She thought it was the back. Perhaps it was the front and that is why what was left of her felt like she divided into a tower of serrated blades and teeth. She rolled to her side and felt like curling up and calling it right there. She had so much to learn. However, there was a simmering that began and it reminded her that there was some unfinished business. She would have time to nurse her extensive wounds later.

“You seemed to need a bit of help so don’t be break your arm patting yourself on the back.” Satine growled at the pain involved in getting up.

The woman didn’t just have a stick wedged somewhere. Satine was pretty sure that it was a trunk of some bristling tree yet to be discovered. Someone else could have the honors. The head to toe throbbing was increasing as every muscle in her beaten body tried to move as it was expected to. She set her silver orbs on the one who was responsible for her difficulty putting her sword back since her arm was mauled like it she raked it over a industrial sized cheese shredder. Finally she succeeded in getting the weapon back in it’s place. Now for the earful she had intended on delivering.

“And you really better watch just who the **** you are talking to like that. ”

Satine stepped in a bit closer getting a good eyeful of the female who obviously been at the whole wonderland trip than she had been. She knew she was the runt in the hotel and wasn’t selling herself as anything but a ***** on questionable heels for the moment. She had enough **** to deal with. Sure most of it was self-imposed but still. The young necromancer felt like this chick never left the playground and was still riding high on the fact perhaps she was once the girl that stood two feet taller than everyone else and took her ‘someone pissed in my cornflakes’ attitude to the sandpile to get her kicks. She knew that type. World was full of them.

“And you can’t be the sharpest knife in the drawer if you are talking like you are about someone who can simply look at the **** you are trying to kick and it runs but when you are on the job it nearly hands you your ***.” Satine was feeling that roll of anger rising. She may have lost skin in that poorly planned attempt at fadebeast breaking but she had some left and was ready to give this ***** a run for what she had to offer if she wanted to keep up her attitude. “Slow and mouthy makes for a really bad outcome. Trust me.”

Satine should and would eventually take her own advice. Once she got over that growing desire to rip the world apart when her insides got to raging like they were currently. She waited to see if the woman was done or she wanted to say something else that could set her off.

[Rion]

This is why I prefer the dead, Rion thought bitterly as the woman in front of her began to snarl like a drowned kitten. The image that began to twist and form in her mind caused her to laugh to herself, and she quickly shook her head as she scanned the other from head to toe. She looked so much like her sister, and it was clear that the resemblance went much deeper than sharing the same features. Every time she opened her mouth, a little more of her prestigious sister dripped like venom from her lips, making the necromancers stomach churn as she curled her hands at her sides. There was one glaring difference, though. Velveteen had earned her right to be a **** to anyone who crossed her. This clone, however, had not. She was still a nobody to their lineage, despite sharing the bond through their sire.

Arching a brow as the woman stepped towards her, she placed her hand up – not touching her – and shook her head. “It didn’t scare me when your sister warned me off and it definitely won’t scare me from you,” she snapped, her blue eyes flashing with annoyance before she closed them. The ground felt as if it was about to open beneath her, and she could head the rumbling in the walls. She had only tried to be helpful, and it seemed like it was going to bite her in the *** again. She was a *****, she owned up to that. She had a tongue as sharp as a blade and a wit that could rip someone apart from the inside out. She wasn’t exactly made up of a personality that welcomed friendship and it never bothered her. It was only when she was being kind and was met with the same ******** that she began to get upset.

“If you’re done, kitten, why don’t you pull back in your claws? I didn’t mean **** by it this time, alright?”

She had to remember what her sire had told her. She couldn’t very well lash out and attack the woman, when she was only showing attitude because of what she perceived herself to be doing. Shoving her hand through her blue hair, she shook her head and stepped back so the other was no longer invading her personal space. She couldn’t handle people too close to her, even if they weren’t touching her. It seemed to set her off in ways that she couldn’t explain. There was so much about herself that she didn’t know, didn’t understand – how could she expect anyone else to? She could feel the pressure building inside of her, the need to lash out, the twisting of her stomach, the urge to scream – and she had to grit her teeth together. Just let her go. No one will blame you if you just let her go. Micah will understand.

It didn’t matter.

Swallowing past the knives that felt like they were building in her throat, she tried to claw past the words the other was tossing her way. With a forced smile, she curled her hands into a fist at her side and tilted her head. “Not that you asked, but I’m Rion Andras, Micah’s protégé. That makes us ‘siblings’ – “ she made the air quote half-assed, “ – in name only. I should come with my own warning label, so I don’t expect you to know how to differentiate when I’m being a **** for fun or for real. If you need, I can take a look at those wounds and give you a heal or two. We don’t need you running off into the public looking like you just had a run in with Jaws.”

[Satine]

Satine’s attitude was met instantly with one more than ready to fire back. The bar was raised instantly. Of course it was. The woman she was looking at through her fixed steel orbs was obviously wearing some seriously sharp edges. From the brief exchange it was apparent the female was more than happy to drag them across anything in her way to draw some blood. She required about as many reasons as Satine did to start a fight. For the moment with the way she was feeling there were two possible outcomes with this whole scene playing out between them. One was she took her wounded body and headed out missing more than she had when she started out. The other would be to ride out the storm brewing between them.

Glass started clinking in the distance while the random lights began their irregular pulse. The proverbial fire started in her head while the sounds of the lobby waking to her irritation filled her with awareness. Rion Andras had a cow sized chip on her shoulder and was letting her know the ‘sibling’ thing was in name only. Satine deadpanned giving a blink or two with her eyes. There was no warning labels that could cover her the young necromancer’s issues and she was pretty sure Rion was **** out of luck having a single one that could apply to her and her chip she had riding high on her bristling shoulders.

“Good because I doubt it would be worth the energy I would waste trying to figure it out. Your attitude is your problem. Not mine.” Satine moved to step away. That settled things unless Rion had something else to say to secure her lack of mention in Satine’s book of awesomesauce.

Pain had the necro weighing her options on what she would do next. The wounds were not small. Her cool hand pressed to her side and she hissed at the pain that traveled through her. The flesh that was failing to rejoin the rest of her body stuck to the shirt that was ruined. Her fingers curled and yanked off what was about ready to drop off. She tucked the mangled piece of flesh into her pocket which also needed some repair or discarding. The outfit was nothing worth saving to begin with but still was annoying along with everything else that was unplanned.

**** it. Satine realized she was not going anywhere except perhaps back to her hotel room to change into clothes that would cover the current damage. She looked at Rion slowly and paused instead of continuing on her way to the hallway that would lead her there. Healing. It was offered. Did she dare bite and take the chance that the woman was serious. Worst case scenario if the dark haired fadebeast fighter was just not serious Satine would tell her to **** off and make a mental note to enter her in the ‘needs a future kick in the ***’ file along with Micah’s sidekick Bunny. That blonde cupcake was living on a prayer.

“If you are offering then sure.” Satine shrugged and made her way back to Rion. Could the woman do more damage? Probably but she could also be saving her the limited energy she had left to do so herself. “I won’t be going anywhere if I try to do it myself at this point.”