"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
Doc: It was a normal Tuesday evening. Nothing really special about it, except that Kaelyn made him mark the day down on his phone’s calendar, as the night of her party. A party at Gresse’s, the Fforde’s hangout. He had warned her, it was either him or Cytherea, they both could not be gone. Kaelyn gave him a look.. so he relented and agreed to show up for while, and then cover for Cytherea, so she could attend. That was, until he arrived and no one was there. Except Jesse. Yea. She told him the wrong date. He bent over ******* backwards to attend this thing.. and she didn’t even give him the right date. That was how he found himself at the lab, working.
Sure Doc could have gone to the Asylum to catch up on all the files that had piled up while he was in Europe, but he had spent enough time with the Ball and Chain, and she was on currently duty there. He deserved a night off and truth be told, he preferred his lab. It was clean, sterile, and orderly. But most of all, there were no penguins or wives. He had shed his jacket and donned his white lab coat. He was becoming more relaxed already.
Dominique: The city lights and the night air became an all too familiar blur as the shadow whisked her away from the south of town towards the Newborough area. It would be there that she would do something she did so rarely she couldn’t remember if she had at all. As her shoes came to a skidding stop in front of the lab she realized that she had done this before.
That time it was not her that was directly in need. Her chest hurt worse for the memory that was still crisp and clear in her brain despite what she had just been through. the hardest thing in the world for her to do next to trying to choke down her pride was to ask for help from anyone. But that night she did as she looked down at Kenlie in the emergency room. She prayed then, she bargained and she even turned to him with the hope he could make it all better. Her jaws tightened up until the awkward poke of her sharp fangs found their way into the swollen flesh beneath. She hissed and parted her lips.
“I am getting so tired of this ****.” The shadow grumbled pulling the conveniently unlocked door to the lab open. It was late and the fact she was able to step inside given the way she looked was an instant relief. She called out before stepping any further. She tasted enough fire for one night.“Hello?”
Doc: Doc was in the middle of preparing a panel for testing, when the questioning voice caught his attention. He paused, setting the testing instruments aside, careful to store them in a secure drawer, before peeling off the latex gloves and making his way toward the front of the lab. Coming around the the corner, he saw Dominique hovering about the reception area. She looked like she had been dragged through a minefield, not once, but twice.
His brow furrowed into a frown, as he took in her appearance. His first instinct was to hit her with a barrage of questions, who did it; why did it happen; did she start it; was he to expect an irate sire to come banging on his door in retribution and most important, does the other party at the very least, look worse or at best, were they dead?
However, his time in Europe had been spent with the Ball and Chain, who was a licensed counselor, and a counselor who made it her goal to try and make him better ‘person’. She had made him realize that maybe.. just maybe, he shouldn’t jump down people’s throats right off the bat. Well he didn’t ‘really’ realize it; he just told her he did, because he was ******* tired of hearing her nag him endlessly about it. But now, her words did seem to have merit as he looked at Dominique, So he decided right then, to try it Cytherea’s way.
He chose his words carefully, “How can I help you?” It was a hard thing to come up with a ‘caring question’ when all you wanted to do was to get answers. He could tell her lip might need a stitch or two, her neck, and some other obvious areas, but he wanted to give her the power to say what she wanted. If that didn’t work… he would go back to his way.
Dominique: It could have been the sight of her sire that gave her head the slow building spin or it could have been that she was nearly beaten to a fleshy pulp. Either or didn’t really matter. She needed help. An overbite was giving the inside of her mouth hell and she didn’t know how they could suddenly be there. Her neck was killing her, her gut and pretty much everywhere else as well. Also she felt sick to her stomach that should be pretty much dead. The icing on the cake was the weakness that was spreading across her body as she stood there looking at him. Could she do it? Could she ask for help?
“I need your help.” She stepped deeper into the building towards him and felt her legs getting weaker as she did. She tried to close her eyes and make herself stronger but she found nothing each time she did. She felt one step short of falling down. How was she going to tell him that she just had it out with one of his pack he ran with? “I warned him…”
Doc: At her simple yet heartfelt words, he nodded. Snagging a rolling computer desk chair, he rolled it over toward her motioning for her to sit. Dominique looked like she might fall over over, if he waited. He didn’t say anything just yet, but the questions, and the burning need to know what had happened to her, was like a cancer in his brain. Her last comment was telling. But to whom did the ‘him’ refer?
As much as he would like to pretend he knew what his spawn were up to, Dominique was the most quiet and self contained. The ‘him’ could literally any male in this city. The permutations of who the ‘him’ was, reeled about in his head, while he collected a first aid kit. Out of habit he pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves, and grabbed a chair for him to sit in as he administered to her wounds. He took some gauze and soaked it in saline, and started cleaning her neck wound. It was the one that looked like it needed attention first. Especially if he expected answers.
The plan was to patch up her neck, get some blood in her, appear sympathetic and concerned and if she still hadn’t spilled her guts by then, he would get out the ball peen hammer and beat it out of her. Yes, concerned. He needed to appear concern. Little did he realize that his frowning and silence, may actually convey that ‘concern’ more than he knew. The frown deepened as she seemed to wilt in front of him. He knew this reaction well. Some would call it the boost of adrenaline fading, but he doubted vampires produced that compound. However, the effect was the same. He had felt it himself.
“Just relax. You are safe.” He paused, he couldn't stand it. He would start with baby steps, small but telling answers. “The guy? Human or Vampire?”
Dominique: “A vampire.” Plain and simple her reply came while the press of Doc’s hands briefly cleansed the wound.
Leaving it at that she focused on the mild burn beneath the layers of tissue that were getting his attention. Why did any vampire seek out conventional repair such as sutures or bandages? Of course could heal some of the damage herself but she couldn’t do it all.There was nothing that called the unwanted attention of others more than visible signs of wounds that would need immediate treatment. Even on a good night when she was full of the energy required she fell short compared to the abilities of most at bouncing back. She was told that was in part due to the fact she was a shadow. There were strengths and weakness’ that went with it. Healing definitely was not one of the notable perks.
“And one that is on a pedestal that is going to get knocked down.”
Hands down Trahir Trahison was earning his ranks really quick at becoming one of the biggest pains in the *** she had crossed paths with. Her eyes washed over the blonde head that was attached to the body kindly tending to hers. Doc once inspired the reaction from her but time had changed that. She was no angel and he had clipped her wings more than a few times to prove it.
“Trahir Trahison.”
The name rolling off Dominique’s tongue was enough to give her a tingle head to toe. The kind that had her looking down at her arms. She wanted to make sure the colorful skin was still connected to her body and that it had not decided to walk off and abandon her altogether.
“Your friend seems to think it is his job to make sure I am tapping veins and doing it his way.” The coolness of her sire’s fingers was not impaired by the barrier of latex gloving his skin. She felt it leaving a trail in the wake of his working hands. “And he has been leaving his offerings from his hunts on my doorstep.”
The fact the porch of her farm was a bloody mess was proof. No matter what shape her body was in at the end of the night in the lab she needed to get back there. It would not be empty handed. a cleaning bucket in one and a mop in the other would arrive before the sun decided to rise and reveal what no human should see. She sighed while sacrificing the energy required to lift her hips slightly above the chair beneath. With a little wiggling HOPE managed to retrieve her cell. No messages came to view and for that she felt a small measure of relief. Perhaps there was a ceasefire in the works. She could only hope.
“Thank you for doing this.” Dominique eyed his face briefly then returned her focus back on his hands at work.
Gingerly her tongue moved around the inside of her mouth as she spoke. Hopefully the recent sharp additions behind her lips were not noticed or permanent. While pondering that a hunger surfaced with the recollection of when the fangs first appeared. The initial warmth and sweetness of the blood that currently was dryly caked to her tattered tank top and jean shorts was like a flash flood of recall. It fueled the insatiable appetite arriving whether she welcomed it or not. Her petite body was starving and she resented what was coursing through her. The craving she had never truly felt before was hitting her hard and showing no mercy. She squirmed trying to avoid it setting its grip on her. The movement was a failure. She licked her cool lips slowly.
“I appreciate it.” Even the feeble attempt at trying to distract herself with voicing her gratitude didn’t bring any relief.