Cry Little Sister

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Satine> How long could she avoid the unavoidable? When it came to the King & Queen of Hearts...not long. They could sniff out the trouble of one of their own like a drop of blood breaking to the surface of a human hand in front of their face. It didn’t matter that they had to have a hotel for their family because the combined two lines were that huge. There could easily be over a hundred of them and she could still stand out like a sore thumb if she stepped out of line. The necromancer was sure that it wasn’t all on her either. No one could get away with anything without them knowing. The hills, the streets and even the blood in the veins had Andras eyes if you were of course an Andras. Satine Andras knew it despite how young she was. So the following was no surprise to her.

It was fair to say that Alice was about to be in a whole lot of trouble. Not only that Wonderland was about to become hell on Earth. She could feel the heat building as the words from their last fireside chat in the hotel did a few laps around the inside of her head. Micah may not be currently within reach but that didn’t mean she didn't still feel the grip on her arm as he growled out his last words of warning.The necro was about to dismiss it altogether until she felt a chill skate across the back of her neck and it was enough that she looked behind her. She had enough of the waiting game. She dropped the roaster repair guide in her hands and the sparkle of the ring on her finger reminded her of unfinished business that needed to be dealt with.

This had been going on too long for her comfort. What was she trying to do? She hardly owed anyone explanations. Information, yes. That she would deliver face to face. So, she got married. So what? She eloped. She wasn’t expecting anyone to support it or be there tossing petals and rice in the air or whatever idiots did.How many others have done it in the last year? Decade? It didn’t matter. Last time she checked she was old enough. Bugsy was old enough too. He was a little younger but he had no issue keeping up. Cold neck or not she had to smirk a bit at her own thoughts. There was not one regret. She said he was hers and he sure as hell was now. Her husband didn’t have to be accepted. He was hers no matter what.

If anyone outside the two of them cared to know it was an intimate little event. Lilac fabric wrapped loosely around her and Bugsy was in a full suit and tie. Juice Box served as both chauffeur & referee which came in handy several times. The fact they made it there without incident was a miracle. A list had been checked off twice for all the ingredients needed for some ritualist named Aeryn to do her magic. It went flawlessly until they arrived.

Satine had all her current savings in her pocket book while Bugsy had the priceless rings. At the last possible moment they discovered one fang was missing from the inside of the bag she toted along. What remained was a bizarre mix of items that no one should cross the street carrying let alone all dressed up for a wedding. It smelled like the dead **** it was and if that wasn’t bad enough the woman in charge had the personality of a piece of plywood. Even the chaotic racing around to get their hands on the missing fang didn’t ruin the ceremony that took place in some abandoned mansion up north. It could never take away from what it was really about. They entered into a bond that honored what they shared. It strengthened and protected it. Who could possibly raise issue with that? Her silver orbs didn’t dare blink as the chill returned to the back of her neck. She already knew the answer. It was time to deal with it.

Satine was not going to dance around the topic. No half-*** texts would be sent out trying to test the waters to see if they were still raging. That **** was for when you still had a curfew and couldn’t wipe your own ***. She was a grown adult vampire something. MIcah was her brother-in-law and sire. Velveteen was still her worst fan but they had an eternity to straighten that **** out. For now it was time to acknowledge those awesome gifts Micah sent her way. Namely the bloody knife he sent through her leg into the electric chair and the rabbit hood with complimentary padlocking features at the neck that Remington fixed it up with. Where was that inked eyeful of questionable anyways?

Satine stepped off the elevator and glanced around in case the sire radar was on and she was discovered sooner than she was prepared for. Figuring it wouldn’t be long she stepped up to the center check in desk and decided to deal with some banking and inventory while she was there.

<Micah> The necklace was a work of art. He had made it himself out of one of the shell casings left behind after Satine had gotten her hands on a rapid fire weapon and shot Bunny to hell and back. It had been touch and go and for a while Micah had been prepared to say goodbye to his longtime thrall. She had pulled through in the end but her hatred for Satine had never faded and he knew Bunny would carry that grudge to the grave. He didn’t blame her for it. The killer had cleaned up the mess himself and could remember holding the shell casings in his hand trying to decide what to do with them. In the end he had sealed them in a box far away from Vel so the scent of Bunny’s blood didn’t send her into a tailspin. The blood on the casing was now dry and the scent had all but faded leaving them safe to handle. Which was a good thing, as his wife was currently sitting beside him, watching his every move with a somewhat amused look on her face.

Micah knew what he was doing was cruel but he didn’t care. Satine needed to be reminded of her place, reminded just who she owed her life to. What better way to do that than to use the items that had been the catalyst to her downfall? Of course he hadn’t really meant to start walking down the path he was currently on but he’d been going through a few things and had found the mask, and the knife. Sending her the mask had been a warning letting her know that he was watching. The knife served as a reminder to her that he had given her the life she was currently enjoying, but that he could also take it away just as easily. If she thought he was kidding then she had a lot to learn. And if her idiotic should have been swallowed partner tried to get in his way well, Micah would take him out too. He’d have no regrets and the pair could spend a week thinking about what they’d gotten themselves into and maybe come back with more than a half a brain between the pair of them.

Micah held the necklace up to the light and eyed it critically. It was beautiful. And he hoped that it freaked Satine out. Such a gift should be given with reverence and in person, just to show her how much she meant to him. Not really. In his current state of mind he’d much rather see her walk over a bed of hot coals before he shoved her off a cliff but that was neither here nor there. “I’ll be back beloved. I need to deliver something to your sister.” Micah didn’t even refer to Satine as his childe. Right now she was nothing more than someone he’d sired, lumped in with the rest of those he’d turned, and way at the bottom of the totem pole. One way or another Satine was going to learn that her **** ups had a price and only time would tell if her fucks ups were worth that. First though he needed to find a box. he was sure that he had seen one under the shop counter so he left the room he shared with Vel and headed for the shop, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of a familiar figure.

[Satine]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Micah> Satine.

He didn’t have to go looking for her then. And really didn’t even need a box for the necklace currently clutched in his fist. God seeing her standing there without a care in the world pissed him off. Micah was actually a little surprised she was even in the hotel. Since she’d purchased a club Satine hadn’t been a usual face around the hotel. Probably because her loser friend wasn’t and never would be welcome on Andras grounds. Ever. A low growl rumbled through his chest and he gripped the chain of the necklace until his palm grew wet from the blood drawn by his slowly morphing fingers. This was going to be ugly. He just knew it.

Micah didn’t remain hidden. He stepped up beside her and slapped the necklace down on the counter in front of her sending her loot scattering to the winds. “Another reminder of how you came to be Satine,” he sneered. “There’s more where that came from, too.”

<Satine> Hurricanes were known to be more subtle in their approach than Micah when he was in one of those moods. Satine felt him first in the gradual vibrations that grew stronger beneath her feet. The ground was the platform for the small shocks to jolt up through her heels and up her legs. The awareness hit her spine and the hair on the nape of her neck started itching. She didn't move because he was already on her side with his fist crashing down on the surface of the counter. Any items she had in front of her and the money being exchanged went flying. Before the motion of currency and baubles could cease the shopkeeper bolted without notice. Hurricane Andras had arrived. If anyone wanted to evacuate it was already too late.

"Micah..."

Satine felt her mouth go dry before she could finish saying his name. It was not the type of dryness that can be easily fixed with a drop or two of moisture. It was that sensation of impending doom about to roll over you and remind you just how close you could get to the ground if you made one wrong move type dryness. It literally left her uncomfortable in every way possible.

The clawed fist that crashed down revealed a chain and a spent bullet casing. The brownish red layer over the top and side was unmistakable. Old blood. She remembered everything. Satine swallowed hard while quickly putting the clues together she had generously received. So this was not some twisted game of memory and gift exchange they had been playing after all. Her jaw tightened as she winced.

The budding necromancer had just sent him the nun's habit she stole, wore and used to escape the asylum he locked her up in. The very same ensemble she was wearing when she was caught off guard in the shop and won the lotto.

It was April fools day. Her luck had been exceptional. She was about to bail out of Harper Rock with her winnings and fly back home. Her luck from there declined quickly when Doc ran her down with his car then gave her an all lights out punch to the face that nearly killed her.

Crimson red nails fluttered lightly while their fingers moved. Satine was not so sure the last message she sent him was as amusing as she originally thought. She had been so bold as to add a note with the nuns habit stating perhaps if he wore it or Vel they might get lucky as well. Yes. Now she could feel the force of that Hurricane increasing in its power as her sire stood uncomfortably close looming over her. Her silver eyes shifted back and forth.

"I was coming to see you..." Her left hand jeweled with her wedding band slid slow and easy beneath the shop counter. "What a coincidence."

<Micah> Her mere presence pissed him off and it was taking every ounce of his self control to stop himself from grabbing her to try and knock some sense into her. The killer purposely got into her personal space, drawing himself up to his full height in an effort to intimidate her. It was working. Her entire posture screamed her discomfort and it made his mouth curve up in a wicked grin. Micah barely noticed the shopkeeper fleeing; his eyes were currently boring holes into the back of her head as if he were trying to see into her mind to try and figure out what it was that made her tick. And to see how she could find something like what she was currently consorting with attractive. Satine was a hot woman. She would have to be, sharing a face with Velveteen but he was biased and was proud to admit that.

He was standing so close to her that the tips of his steel toed combat boots were pressing against her heels. His chest was pressed against her shoulder and when he leaned in closer still his lips hovered right against her ear. “Isn’t it beautiful?” He was of course talking about the bloody shell casing underneath his hand. “Life is such a fragile thing. So easily given and yet, so easily taken away.” His fingertips gently moved over the surface of the shell casing almost like he was saying hello to an old friend. “Do you remember that night Satine? I do. I remember the fear, the panic, the utter despair that Bunny displayed as she lay there in a puddle of her own blood. So afraid that she wouldn’t come back to me alive.” Each word was whispered directly into her ear softly, a light caress of air as the words flowed off of his tongue with a certain calm that was out of place in a situation such as this. He chuckled then and slowly pulled away from her. “Luck was with you that night Satine.”

A flash of something sparkling caught his eye but it was gone before he could pinpoint it. He did see Satine slide her hand out of his line of vision causing his eyes to narrow ever so slightly. Micah was suspicious of her visit and of her words. She wasn’t one to seek him out for casual conversation so there was a reason for her visit. But what? “Should I be flattered that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?” He moved around her to lean against the shop counter allowing his arm to brush against hers in an attempt to **** with her just a little bit more. If Vel could see him now she’d wonder what the **** he was doing. Satine was surely wondering, maybe waiting for the other shoe to drop and drop it would just as soon as he found out what she was hiding.

His head canted to the side and his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose allowing him to peer at her over the top frame. “I doubt that this is a chance meeting. You obviously came here hoping to run into me and now that you have……” He paused long enough to slide the necklace into her hand, giving her another wicked grin that spoke of just how pleased he was with himself. “How bout you tell me the reason you’ve decided to walk into the pits of hell?”

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Satine> The storm was building the closer it got to her back. The weight of heavy boots tapped behind her heels and the cold front washed over her shoulder as the sire she had pushed a little too far leaned in to deliver his message in a disturbing whisper meant for only her. It was as if everything around them had been sucked into some void and simply disappeared.

All the warnings had been ignored, misread despite the obvious signs of impending danger. Now Hurricane Andras was in full force and she would be riding out its wrath. Was the young necromancer with a former death wish truly prepared for the monstrosity of this killer storm bearing down on her? Silver orbs shifted to her side as the mass of what was currently Micah moved around her making contact at their arms in passing. Her focus tracked him closely prepared to do nothing but stand there for the moment. It was still too soon to see which direction he would take. The path of such a powerful system was still too unpredictable.

The shopkeeper was long gone and she didn’t blame the human for bailing while the window of opportunity was still open. Her collection of charms, blades she would never need or use and the money that was in the process of being exchanged had finally settled to rest around her right hand still above the counter and her heels still anchored to the floor. That was a hopeful sign. She had not got air time.

Since Satine was there and the larger than life killer had made the point of asking she allowed her focus to lift and take in his eyes which she rarely saw thanks to the eyewear that moved down just enough that she caught the spark of a final warning in the steeled piercing of a color that carried a history of royalty and power in its hue. Those eyes fixed on her over the ominous dark rims of his glasses were not playing. They were waiting and they were ready. She might as well make her move, say what she had to say because it was the two of them and it all came down to what she did next. **** was about to get real and the force that would be coming at her may very well be enough to blow her world apart.

“I belong there?”

Satine meant hell of course. She was pretty sure Micah was more than capable of tossing her in there at any moment too. She hoped that it was later than sooner. What she had to say next was about to determine that. Why she thought getting married or the equivalent of such by some insanely expensive ritual would be the reason she would finally get there was not hard to grasp. She was an adult and could make that choice freely. That wasn’t what would be her ticket to see the flames of Hades. It was who she married.

Andrew Krepsi had a few solid haters in Velveteen and Micah. That was nothing new. As far as she was concerned it was just fine. She would take a bullet for him, a kick in the *** and a few fires as well if they were coming. She looked down as if it might matter what she wore to her roasting and prepared herself for what was to come as her eyes went back up. “And I got married. Congratulate me. So far they aren’t one and the same.”

<Micah> “Do you now? Could have fooled me. It’s been ages since you’ve graced us mere peons with your illustrious presence Satine.” The sarcasm that coated his words was second nature to him. Whether she appreciated it remained to be seen. Seeing her loot still scattered across the counter the killer decided to be generous and help sort it. Charms with charms, rusty blades in another pile and the cash he sorted into neat stacks. As he completed his self appointed task he continued the conversation pretending that he didn’t notice her discomfort. He had, and it gave him a sick sense of glee. The young necromancer had no idea what to think of him.

He was so engrossed in his task that he almost missed the words the tumbled out of her mouth the like a rush of molten lava. Did she say what he thought she had said? He froze, hand hovering over the pile of charms before dismissing her. She wouldn’t do something that incredibly stupid would she? This was Satine. Of course she would. Slowly he lifted his head and pinned her with a stare that was a cross between horrified and furious. The words were replayed in his mind and he discovered with growing horror that no, she hadn’t been kidding. She had done the one thing that he might not be able to forgive her for. She’d gone and saddled herself to the planet's biggest loser. “Do you not have a shred of dignity, or did your sister get it all? Or were you just so desperate to get laid that you hopped into bed with the first person who looked in your direction? Do you have to put a bag over his head first?”

Of course he didn’t much care who she took to her bed but marrying something that looked like it was spit directly from Satan’s loins was something he’d never be able to wrap his head around. Creepy was bad news. The killer had been trying to tell her that but it seemed like Satine was deaf and refused to listen. Curiosity got the better of him and he scanned her memories. “You stupid ****. What the **** have you done?” She hadn’t married that loser she’d gone and bound herself to it. “I can’t even...******* seriously Satine??” He shook his head, disgust over her actions written all over his face.

It was then that he remembered that she had tried to hide her hands from him. It made sense to him now. She didn’t want him to see her ring so she thought she’d be sly. He should have pressed the issue from the start. Reaching under the counter he grabbed her hand and jerked it towards him with a power that could have possibly pulled her arm out of socket. He didn’t give a **** either way if he had or not. No, he was too focused on the shiny ring that decorated her finger. He scoffed. He had so many questions but he knew that he’d be met with defensive ******** answers that he wasn’t interested in hearing. So he switched tactics.

“Tell me Satine. Does Creepy enjoy getting gifts?” He gave her one of those oh so pleasant smiles, but his eyes held something much more sinister.

<Satine> Satine watched Micah work at gathering the minor disarray of the items in front of them. His massive fingers looked strikingly out of place with the small hunter charms that he worked slowly to bring back together. The tone of his sarcasm dripped from his words as he commented on her illustrious presence. Her black brow lifted sharply leaving the other behind and falling flat. Peons? Was he for real? She glanced again from one side to the other and was careful not to move her head to do so. The way he was organizing the small items strewn about was absolutely off the charts disturbing.

The necromancer’s lips were about to part and carry on a light conversation of her activities, growth and the color she chose for bar tile. That was until a sudden shock ran through her like she was having that fight or flight response kicking in. It was instant and it had the power to suck all her useless insides up and send them crashing to her feet as she looked at him. His eyes were set on hers. His expression was one she had not really seen before. She had seen enough and there was nothing close to compare it to for reference. It screamed ‘you-are-so-fucked’.

Dignity. The word and the context he was using it left her feeling like the letters it was comprised of were sharp frozen bits of hail shooting out of his lips right at her face. How did she not when she just married the guy in some ritual that Aeryn performed making her eternally bound to him. How is that not respectful? Keeping him as her love machine and not sharing him with others was disrespectful when he asked for commitment. He was hers. She honored that.

Desperate?! Oh now he was really going to go there too? If Micah would slow down the rant and the glare that she was sure would fry her to a crisp she could interject her replies. But no. Hurricane Andras was packing a punch and rolling in. The only hope she had was to hold on to the ground she was currently on and wait for the eye of the storm to arrive or his lips to finally stop bouncing up and down. Then she would get her say...or not.

****? Did he really just call her a ****? What the ****. She got married and it was reduced to something so meaningless as Andrew was the first one to look at her? And she was a ...****? Oh that was it! Her mouth opened and that was when the expression on his face did a cartwheel of sorts she could actually watch in it’s progression. She didn’t even blink. Her voice was lost briefly as she was distracted by his face. What was it now? Something triggered his reaction because she had yet to get a word in. It didn’t matter what came over Micah. Not one bit. Because what happened next proved some storms were even more deadly when you underestimate just how volatile they had the potential to be given the right conditions. And little did she know her mind gave him all of that and then a little extra.

The sound of her shoulders and the pain that followed was the first signs she was no longer going to be standing where she had been. Her heels caught on something in passing and the right one was left behind as her head bounced against the underneath surface of the shop counter. Her arm felt like it was down to a few muscles holding it in place. The pain was bone deep shooting up her fingers, her wrist, her elbow. She was pretty sure she lost her rotator cuff. Not that she would know what that was. It was just the particular spot that was easy to pinpoint turning to shreds. With a finish to the bone rattling tug he brought her petite body up to stand next to him. She glanced up to catch sight of his elbow then felt the awkward stumble of her feet thanks to losing a shoe in the unexpected trip under the counter.

[Satine]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Satine:>The grip of Micah’s gigantic hand on her own was only the start of her trouble. Those eyes of his frying her up while his smile made her want to crawl right out of her skin and leave everything she came with behind. The pressure on her hand was nearly bone crushing as it increased. She tried to pull back her hand from his hold but there was no chance of that happening. Her silver orb rolled upward with her face. Her legs teetered while her heeled foot supported most of her weight. Did her husband like gifts? Each and every nerve in her body felt the throbbing that was building in her hand.

“You really don’t have to get him anything.” Satine hissed out as her world started going up in flames. Her mind was tossing more fuel for the fire building in her head to keep her semi-calm while she pondered how much longer she could holdout before she gave him a freeze down that would leave him...**** it. He had a hold on her that would stay in place if she did do it. “You have done enough already. Now if you don’t mind releasing my hand it would be greatly appreciated.”

<Micah> Perhaps he had been a little too rough with her. He’d jerked her arm so hard that she stumbled and barely managed to keep her balance in her stripper heels. Her mama must be so proud of her. The grinding of bone then the pop as her arm separated from the socket was like music to his ears and it made him want to hear more. One thing was for certain. Satine Andras had no idea of what she had just unleashed and the killer doubted that she was prepared for it. This was a whole different side of him that was normally locked up tighter than a nun’s virginity.

He was imagining all the different ways he could kill her. Or **** her up so badly that she wouldn’t be able to move. Turning her into a pile of blabbering nonsense was so tempting to him, so much so that he started to reach for his gun but stopped at the last minute. That little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that whatever he did to Satine would be projected back onto his wife. Even in this state of mind he was ever conscious of Velveteen. He wouldn’t cause her harm and harming Satine just might do that. It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. What he didn’t realize was that his actions had probably already done what he was trying to avoid.

A sense of awareness rippled across the bond he shared with his wife and a bloodcurdling scream shattered the air around Micah and Satine. He would know that scream anywhere. And he knew the cause of it. His anger increased tenfold. This was all Satine’s fault. Her and her stupid fuckups, making him lose his **** and forget about the one thing that mattered most to him. If she had just kept her delinquent *** in Australia none of this would be happening. He wouldn’t have to be so cautious in dealing with her. It wasn’t fair. Had it been anyone else doing the **** that Satine did they would have been shot, killed or maimed - perhaps all three. But no. Because no matter what the killer did to this one it was reflected back on Vel. It put a serious crimp in his style and he ******* hated her for it. He ******* hated that she made him not give a **** about it anymore. All thoughts of not wanting to hurt Vel flew out the window as he allowed the rage to consume him.

“I’ve done enough?” His smile was all white teeth and wickedly sharp fangs. “Nah, I ain’t even got started but you’ll stick around to see it through to the end whether you like it or not.” She wanted to waltz into his home and drop a bomb on him? She’d sure as **** take what he had to dish out to her. “It would be terrible of me to not send a congratulatory gift on your recent nuptials.” The wheels in his mind were already turning, a horrible, terrible, epically awesome idea starting to form. Quick as a flash his hand shot out and curled around the handle of one of the blades she’d left lying on the counter. The hand gripping her wrist and moved her left hand so it was flat on the counter. The glint of the band encircling her finger was taunting him, another thing to hate her for. How dare she flaunt her **** up in his face? The killer’s grip on the blade tightened. “You’ll thank me for this eventually.” The blade came down, severing her ring finger just under the band.

Looks like he’d need that box after all.

<Satine:> The whole vibe was not good. Micah's words, the grip of his hand over hers and the energy. It was chaotic and full of warning. Again she tried to pull her hand free and as as soon as his last words left his mouth her silver orbs shot up. A flood of terror washed over her consuming her with its power.

"NO!"

The necromancer's voice was louder than it had ever been. The flash of blade and the nerve severing pain burst to her brain sending all of her out of control. Her mouth exploded into a frightening set of razor sharp beastly jaws.The teeth elongated and formed into lethal bloody points. Each one a fang full of promise. Her eyes glazed over in rage, her lips pulling back in a last warning of her own. The loss of a finger and the ring on it was only compounded by the snap of her mind.

The walls shivered and the lights popped leaving a dim wake in their expiration. The fixtures began the slow sway while she hissed out in pain pulling her arm free. She was no match for Hurricane Andras. Her sire had arrived with an anger that would not stop if she stood there.

The trail of blood was easy to follow as she dropped and darted under the counter shooting like a bullet fired across the small space to the closest wall. Like a spider on the run she raced up and didn't stop on her way towards the exit. It was a fine time to leave Chester back at the club. Her head was erupting, her body in survival mode. Would Micah actually kill her? Her ring! He took her ring! She wouldn't go without it.

"Give it back!" She spit out the words while looking for the closest weapon to get her hands on. Her head was going to explode, she could feel it near the breaking point."I said GIVE IT BACK!"

Without warning she dropped and ran towards her room. Five quick steps she was in a full sprint back up the wall adjacent to the doorway heading for her stash of weapons. No way in hell she was going to leave without her ring.

<Micah> “Lookit you, showing your fangs. Aren't you sweet?”

Micah wasn’t intimidated by the mouthful of fangs that Stubby handed Andras was currently displaying. He was amused, even more so when the floor trembled and the walls started to shake, something that happened when she was pissed off as he’d seen before. The rage in her eyes was unmistakable and he was pleased that he was able to evoke such a reaction out of her.

The killers fingers lightly danced over the blade that was currently coated with her blood. “Look at the mess you made Satine. I don’t like it when people make a mess of my ****, as you already know.” His attention turned to the finger that had turned to ash, leaving a pile of the dust like substance on the pool of blood on the counter top. The blue jewel sparkled under the low lamplight as if taunting him. A slow, sadistic grin spread across his face. “What a fitting gift this will be.”

The search for the perfect box would have to wait. He still had the stubby one to deal with after all. A scratching sound reached his ears and his head turned just in time to see her crawling out from behind the counter and up the wall. Jesus could she be any more like her sister? Vel could do that too. “You know Satine, the more I see of you I have to wonder if you’re trying to be like your sister. First the shaking of **** and now you’re crawling up the walls? If you’re trying to catch my eye, I’m sorry but your sister is the only one that gets me going. And besides, I don’t want the sloppy seconds of a man who looks like a hat full of assholes.” He followed her progress with his eyes. The sadistic grin stayed in place as she started demanding he return her ring. Micah didn’t respond well to demands. As she scurried towards her room he stepped away from the counter, blade still in hand. “Where you goin Stubby? Aren’t you enjoying our game??” He made his voice sound disappointed. “But we were having so much fun!!” The killer started laughing and set off after her.

“I ain’t deaf you stupid *****, done heard your loud mouth the first time you bellowed.” All playfulness left him as he caught up with her just inside her room. He reached out and grabbed a handful of those long ebony locks so like her sisters and jerked her back against him. The blade came up and pressed against her neck as he moved in close to whisper in her ear. “I won’t give your fuckin ring back, and the only thing holding me back from slitting your throat is the fact that you’re more useful to me as you are. See, I’ve decided that Creepy should be included in our fun so he’s going to be getting a pretty little gift real soon.” The blade pressed against her neck leaving a thin red line behind where the blade cut into her skin. “Now, get the **** out and make sure to deliver Creepy a message for me. Tell him he’s next, and I’m going to enjoy making him cry like the ***** he is.” The blade was removed from her neck and both hands curled into her hair. Picking her up off her feet he swung her hard and whipped her towards the wall, sending her out into the night. The wall would need repaired but it would have to wait.

He left Satine’s room and headed to the counter where he located the perfect box. The ashes were carefully placed inside and the ring set on top just so. Bloody fingerprints decorated it and he grinned. “Beautiful,” he whispered softly before picking up the box to head to the portal. He had a gift to deliver.

[Velveteen]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Velveteen> Velveteen was not sure what to make of this little game that her husband and sister had been playing with their back and forth of certain ‘gifts’. In fact the woman was still not quite sure what to make of anything when it came to her twin and the fact that she was now Micah’s childe. Acceptance was a long time coming...if ever. For now though she managed the best way she could; By avoiding it and staying aloof where possible. If she didn’t ask questions then this was much easier to do. She knew who the gift was for and couldn’t help but note the care that he put into it. The imagined look on her sister’s face when she received it, however, was a source of amusement for the woman.

The dark haired vampire simply nodded as her husband left the room saying he would be back soon. She had no reason to doubt it and rolled onto her stomach to play idly on her phone. Some zig zag game that required no brain power at all but would surely distract, allowing her avoidant nature to take over. Whatever was happening was between them and she was more than happy to distance herself from her sister as much as possible lest her mind start to wondering why Micah cared so much. Sometimes Velveteen’s thoughts took her to places she cared not to dwell so the light tapping against the screen and the odd swearing that occurred each time the small yellow dot exploded against the wall was a rather welcome distraction.

That was until she was jerked onto her side feeling like her arm had been forcibly torn from its socket. Pain shot through her as the limb went limp and she yowled loudly from the surprise of it, though it didn’t take her long to realise that her sister was at it again. The only consolation was that when Micah found her and saw what she had done then she would have him to deal with. Inconsiderate *****. These random woundings were becoming a major inconvenience. “Shoulda ******* killed you.” She muttered as she readjusted her position to be able to continue her game one handedly.

Merely moments later more pain shot up her arm , the source this time was her left hand and she gasped when she looked down and noted that her ring finger had simply...vanished. Along with it went the ring that hadn’t left her finger for almost three years. She scrambled around the bed sheets in search of the small black circle that carried so much meaning and clutched it tightly in her fist when it was found.

“Have you found her yet? I have no idea what the **** she is doing now but I am losing digits here.” Her thoughts reasonably calm as they were pressed lightly into Micah’s mind despite the agitation she felt at Satine’s carelessness and obvious inability to keep herself in one piece.

<Micah> The short trip to the gift shop was uneventful. People took note of the blood that stained his hands and his clothes and gave him plenty of space. It was late at night, so it wasn’t as if there were many humans around to see him. And even if that were the case he’s say it was paint. Let someone try to argue with him. He’d be pleased to set them straight, after he got his gift sent off. It was a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see the look on Creepy’s face when he pulled to lid off the box. Regretful yes but Micah was sure that there would be other opportunities to see Creepy’s reaction. After all, the game had just begun.

The transaction was quick and painless and before he knew it the box was on it’s way. He couldn’t help but wonder if Satine had managed to drag her *** back to her hidey hole, and if Creepy had discovered that she was missing something of value. Wasn’t valuable to Micah. In fact he was slightly surprised that Satine seemed to love something as gaudy as that ring. He hadn’t took her as vain. Perhaps he was comparing her to Vel who was anything but and preferred the simple things in life. Satine was proving to be a huge pain in the ***, one that he was slowly coming to regret ever laying his eyes on. Stupid *****. She’d regret saddling herself with a loser like that.

Once his task was completed he used his tome to get to the Eyrie and from there he navigated the elevator and the portals to return to the hotel. There was still Satine’s mess to clean up before it was discovered by someone else. Vel’s voice entered his mind and he welcomed her presence but her words made his steps falter. It still hadn’t registered in his head that what he had done to Satine had been felt by Vel. It still didn’t register to him that regardless of that he’d done it anyways without a care in the world. “Of course I found her. She made a mess of the shop counter but don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s been cleaned up. And I made her pay for her **** ups too.”

<Velveteen> “Ok.” There was some apprehension in her thoughts as if they were spoken verbally, uncertainty colouring the implied tone. “Can you bring me a silver chain please, Lover. One I can wear my ring on until my ******* finger grows back? And hurry. The mess can wait whatever it is.” Besides that moment of hesitation she was keen to find out what the **** was going on between her sister and husband. How did he make her pay? Obviously he wasn’t happy about finding her wounded yet again either. A grin spread across the necromancers face...whatever it was she was pretty certain that her sister was likely not a happy camper right now.

That thought offered her some comfort as she crossed her legs indian style and pressed her back against the bedhead to wait for him. Her arm was laid across her thigh and throbbed like a *********** but there was little she could do about it. These mysterious wounds would only go away when they healed at the other end. As far as she was aware her sister had not learned any of those abilities yet so she was just going to have to cope. Inconvenient at best. On the bright side it was her left arm so she could still hold a gun just fine.

<Micah> He stopped just before stepping into the portal that would return him to the hotel and turned to head upstairs to retrieve the chain that she had requested. The killer had heard her mental words but as he was so consumed by his rage it didn’t click with him that he was the reason she was missing a finger. It was just another thing that Satine would be paying for once all of the pieces fell into place. There wouldn’t be anywhere she could hide from him. Micah could summon her, and if that failed he could use a ritual to pinpoint her exact location. She would never be able to escape his wrath and since Creepy was sure to be right there with her well, it would be a killing two birds with one stone thing.

He stepped through the portal and headed for the counter. The blade was lying on the floor dark with the blood Satine had shed when he had removed her finger. There was a trail of it up the wall from where she’d crawled, and a pool of it on the countertop mixed in with her ashes. ”I’ve got your chain. I’m out here by the shop if you want to come get it.” He pressed his thoughts into Vel’s mind and ducked below the counter to get a rag for cleaning.

Her brow furrowed a little as she slid off the bed. Her left arm dangled loosely at her side, every movement causing a painful jar though with every passing minute the pain became more and more bearable. She had told him to leave the mess but it seemed that wasn’t gonna happen. How bad could it be that it had to be seen to immediately and why didn’t he have Scott or Bunny take care of it?

Im moments she was making her way down the stairs into the main lobby area and the scent of blood was thick in the air. Vampire blood. Her step slowed down as she looked around at the walls wondering what the **** had gone on there. Being underground the rooms and lobby itself were all fairly well sound proofed so sound didn’t carry so well down here which might explain why she didn’t hear anything despite it looking like murder was committed.

At first she didn’t see him but she sensed him. “What the actual **** happened here? She take on another fadebeast?” That would explain the injuries...maybe.

<Micah> He stood up at the sound of her voice and gave her an odd look. “No of course not. What makes you think that?” Moving around the counter he picked the blade up and laid it carefully on the bloody surface. He was seriously considering mailing it to her as her next gift. How would she react to that? “Do you think that Satine would appreciate getting this?” He picked it back up and waved it in Vel’s direction. “Another reminder is needed I think. After all, Creepy did get her ashes. I think that they would both appreciate the tool that put her in her current state, don’t you agree?” His gaze settled on Vel as he waited patiently for her input on the matter.

<Velveteen> Her look mirrored that odd look he had first given her and changed into realisation as what had happened began to sink in. She shook her head immediately dispelling the thought. There was no way Micah would do that. He knew the consequences. It was the whole reason he had sired her crazy sibling to start with. There had to be another explanation. Suffice to say that none of it was really adding up though and there were things to be explained.

“Her ashes?” Did that mean she had ashed out completely? Was she in the shadow realm? Wouldn’t there be a few more injuries…”And what do you mean? The tool that put her in her current state? What the actual **** happened here?” She refused to believe that Micah had anything to do with it. There was something else going on and she intended to find out what before she started flipping her **** though there did seem to be something very off about everything right now...especially her husband.

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Micah> “I cut her finger off.” This was stated rather matter of factly, like it was no big deal that he was the cause of Vel’s current fingerless state. “She pissed me off. Strolled in here like she was Queen ***** then proceeded to inform me that she married that guy that got his face beat in with an ugly stick.” His lips pressed together and he shook his head. He was still ******* pissed off. “Stupid ***** didn’t just marry him though. Oh no, not Stubby Hands Andras. She took it a step further and visited that witchy woman up in the abandoned mansion and tied herself to him like you’re tied to me.”

Unconsciously he allowed his memories of what had transpired earlier to filter into her mind. His hand curled around the handle of the blade, gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I do not care who she fucks. I do not care who she dates. But that one is a ******* loser. He’s bad news, and he’s going to drag her down with him. You can’t tell her that though. She thinks he has redeeming qualities I suppose.” He sneered. “Now she’s walking around tied to that, and that taint is now attached to me. She carries my ******* blood, your face, our name. And she’s tied to a known masquerade violator with ties to the Lionelli. But that's not the only thing. She knew i wouldn’t approve so the spineless **** WENT BEHIND MY ******* BACK!” His rage knew no bounds.

<Velveteen> A myriad of emotion played over the necromancer’s face;. Anything he said after admitting to cutting off Satine’s finger was lost on her. She could only surmise that he was also the reason her arm felt like it had been wrenched from the socket as well and the mess….was the result of whatever had happened. Any more thoughts were buried beneath his memories that now became part of hers from his perspective. She could literally feel the rage but there something else...something far darker that she had not noticed before.

Shock. Disbelief. Anger and plain old disappointment were each etched into her features as she looked at him. He had turned her sister to protect her but right now Satine was not her sister. She was his childe and she had pissed him off to the point that he had what? Forgotten about her? Didn’t care? The latter cause a sharp pain in her chest that she didn’t like, not one little bit. Her fingerless hand was flopped onto the antique, marbled counter in front of him. And beside that she sat her ring. “Then you might as well hold onto this until I have a finger to wear the ******* thing again, yeah?”

<Micah> That she was angry with him didn’t even register as he dug through his pockets, producing the chain that she had requested. “Don’t be silly baby, I brought you this! You can wear it around your neck.” A frown crossed his face. “I’m sorry that you lost your finger. Did you have an accident?” He started using the rag to try and clean up the blood but it had dried and congealed leaving a dried sticky mess behind. “But, I sent the ashes to Creepy. Put the ring on top of the ashes all neat like, boxed it up and sent it off. After all, a congratulatory gift is necessary when one marries is it not?”

<Velveteen> She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It left her speechless for a moment. Her gaze followed the silver chain and then returned to his face waiting for the penny drop but it...didn’t. “No. I did not have an accident, Micah. Are you really that ******* obsessed with my ******* sister. Do remember why you turned her? Do you?” She pulled her hand back and let it fall back down by her side, the amaranthine ring left on the counter.

Her silver gaze narrowed as she pinned him with it. To say she was growing more angry with ever quiet passing second was an understatement, the only real problem she had right now was deciding who to direct it at.

<Micah> He stared at her. “Don’t tell me that you think I want her too? Truthfully I think she’s taking this sister thing a little too far. She’s trying to take over your life Vel. She can do things that you can do and I think that she’s jealous. I’m sorry that she’s tied herself to something like that but I only want you. Beside, who would want the sloppy seconds of that thing?” He shot her a glare and turned back to the mess on the counter. Bunny appeared beside him with a bucket of hot water. The killer nodded his thanks and dropped the rag into the bucket. “Why are you focusing on the stuff that isn’t important? Don’t you care what she’s attached to our name now?”

<Velveteen> “No I really don’t because I seem to have this ability to let the **** go.” She didn’t really give a flying **** about any of this and that it felt like he was completely unaware of what he had done had just infuriated her that much more. “You told me she was my sister first and your childe second but i guess that went by the ******* way.” Her eyes fell on the knife as he got distracted with being busy and her hand shot out to snatch up the sticky handle. Her injured hand was flopped up onto the service desk once more. “Seriously. You wanna make her pay? I know you can do better than a single finger. How about a whole ******* hand?” She brought the blade up with all intentions of lopping off her own hand if only to make a point, she no longer cared.

<Micah> His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. What exactly was she implying? “Are you saying that you don’t care that your sister has gone and introduced a ******* taint to our bloodline? Of course I’m going to be pissed off about it. You and I worked hard to build this line to what it is now - something to be ******* proud of. But your stupid **** of a sister only cared about getting a piece of *** from the first man that looked at her cross ways. And now, we’re saddled with THAT for eternity. How can that not be a big deal to you??” Was obtuse a trait that the sisters shared?

He heard her say hand and looked up just in time to see her grabbing the blade. Her intentions were clear, but there was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen. “What the **** do you think you’re doing??” His hand shot out with the intent to get it away from her before she actually managed to use it.

<Velveteen> “Not if you throw her *** out. Then she is not our ******* problem. But you can’t do that...can you?” Her frustration was building as was her anger and the blade trembled slightly in her hand when she brought it down, changing trajectory at the very last second. The stainless steel went through his hand, slicing through flesh and bone as she brought it down so hard the metal tip snapped against the marble surface beneath. If it had have been wood his hand would have been pinned there. Had it been any other time and place she might have actually felt bad but right now it simply felt like a debt repaid.

“What am I doin? Punishing my sister. That is what you want right?” She took a step back and summoned her sister, her gun appearing in her hand as if from nowhere. As soon as her lookalike sibling materialised Velveteen cast rigormortis on her *** in a bid to catch her off guard and thwart any chance of escape. The barrel of her gun came to rest against her sister’s temple and she glared at her husband. “What ya think? Yes or no? Let’s punish this ***** properly.” So focused on Micah was she that she had no idea that the three were not alone.

<Micah> The thought had crossed his mind. It was something that he had considered a few times, ever since he found out that Creepy and Satine had decided to engage in a rousing game of Cowboys and Indians. She hadn’t stopped her **** then so why had he ever expected her to stop her ******* games now? Only this time, the sheriff had decided that he wanted to play too and he wasn’t ******* around. Micah could out mind **** her any day of the week and he was finding the game rather engaging. In fact he was already planning his next few gifts. Satine wouldn’t know what hit her.

He was ripped out of his thoughts as a blinding pain tore through his hand. He blinked and looked at the blade embedded in his hand, then lifted his head to shoot a poisonous glare to his wife. “What the **** was that for??” Now he was well and truly pissed off but before he could say another word the woman of the hour appear. The sight of her set him off again but it hit him that Vel was holding a gun to her head. And he finally understood the magnitude of his actions. Vel missing a finger was because he took Satine’s finger. It was his fault. he was the cause of it and he hated what he had turned into.

His gaze zeroed in on Satine. “Look at what you’ve made me do you filthy, scum sucking, gutter rat.” He closed the distance between them and batted the gun away from his wife before she could pull the trigger. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE REDUCED ME TO!” His hands reached for her but they fell to his sides almost as fast. He couldn’t do it. It would hurt Vel, and he’d done enough of that. However….his gaze slid to the cling on that arrived with his current punching bag. “Well well well look at this. You brought your new husband. Satine, I know you want me and all but to bring me such a gift in response to the ones I’ve sent you? Really, you shouldn’t have.” He really meant that too.

[Satine]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Andrew Shedim: The penthouse above Wonderland was completely empty; Satine had stepped out to meet with Micah to give him the good news, though Drew couldn't imagine the man would take it that way, and Juice had taken over her duties of overseeing the club for the night which the left the Killer to himself. He sat restlessly on the couch watching the World Series, despite the blunt he was puffing on his frustration seemed to grow by the minute as he watched the downfall of his hometown heroes, the Mets.

Several times throughout the night an overwhelming concern for Satine would suddenly creep into the pit of his stomach but no matter how many calls he made or texts he sent he still had no word from her. If he knew exactly where she had gone he would have immediately been at her side, the only thing that remotely brought him any relief was knowing who she was with. There was obviously animosity between himself and his now in-law and he had seen first hand the tension that existed between Satine and Micah but he knew if she was with him there was no real threat to her life. Though it was nearly impossible he did his best to push the worry aside and try to enjoy the peace and quiet.

The sudden ding of the elevator door alerted the Killer to the presence of Juice Box before the door had even opened, if it had been Satine he would have felt her presence, so he didn't bother even getting off of the couch.

“Boss, this came for you.” The blood thief carried a small, rather ornate box in his hands, Drew gave the man a curious look “Who the hell is that from?”
“No idea, some courier delivered it, I'm bringing it to you, and here we are.” He teased, setting the box on the coffee table before quickly heading back down to the club.

Drew couldn't remember ever having a personal delivery to the club but he wasted little time in grabbing the box to see what was inside. What he saw when the box was opened instantly had the Killer on his feet, a small pile of ashes rested on the dark linen along with Satine’s wedding band!

“WHAT THE ****!” His voice filling the room.

Bugsy quickly grabbed the sapphire ring and flung the box against the wall, shattering it into a thousand fragments. Storming to the bedroom he shared with Satine he grabbed the pistol resting on the bedside table before rummaging in his bag for a box of ammunition. The sound of the elevator returning did not even register in his ears, the rage he felt towards his wife's sire causing his hands to tremble furiously as he attempted to force the bullets into the clips, dropping more than he could actually load.

“Boss?” The blood thief’s voice obviously nervous “Boss..Drew! I heard you all the way down in the club, what was it?”
“Get the **** outta here Mike” The Killer’s voice was eerily calm despite obviously physically being bothered.
“Drew, what the fucks wrong?” Turning his head to look at the man, the look of rage covering his face “That ***********!” He could barely find the words, let alone speak. “Someone is gonna die!”
“Boss, no, no, try to calm down!”
“Don't ******* tell me to calm the **** down Mike! I just got the ashes of my wife's ******* finger and her wedding ring! So don't you ******* dare tell me to calm down!”

It took all of the restraint he could muster not to lay his friend out and hunt Micah down even if it would be a one sided fight in Micah’s favor Drew could not ignore the little gift he'd received. As he stormed off to the elevator Juice jumped in front of him to block the doorway

“Stop, just listen for one ******* second! You're pissed, I get it...”The blood thief implored him “but think about Satine boss! You know you're gonna go do some stupid **** and get yourself killed and what does that leave her with?”
Drew quickly seized the man’s shirt, forcing him against the wall “Don't you ******* dare talk about her right now!” The blood thief didn't flinch, he knew how to talk the vampire down.
“If you get killed then she'll pull the same **** you're doing and end up in the same position! Please, just chill the **** out and wait for her to get home.”

The Killer hated that the man was right and he would never live it down if he was the cause of getting his wife reduced to ashes. He released the shirt and stormed off back to the man cave, slamming the door and forcing all of his framed memorabilia to come crashing to the floor.

Satine: There was something to be said for going through a hotel wall and landing outside. You were outside. That was the first thought that seemed to slam into her awareness as hard as the brick wall that she went through. All of that was a good thing if it happened to be outside Hotel Hell where the lastest category ten Hurricane Andras had touched down. Yes, the punch this storm punched just tipped the scales and was record breaking. She would get in touch with the NHC later if he kept it up. Someone had to know that this **** was for real. For the moment “Ouch” just did not cut it. No, not at all.

Satine felt throbbing and burning in places on her body she was not even aware existed. It took a couple minutes for her to find her bearings and groan while she made her way to standing on her own two feet. She was grateful she could still do that. Her first movements to roll her shoulders back reminded her that it never hurt quite so bad to do so. In fact what was not broke burned just as bad if not worse than the stub of severed bone and flesh on her left hand. It all served as a reminder that her finger was gone as well as her wedding ring. As far as Satine was concerned Micah Andras, Godzilla, The King of Hearts and everything she so fondly called him just earned an award for becoming the biggest asshole to walk the planet. That was saying a whole lot. The last one to reign was named Chester.

Satine was furious. The lack of respect to her bond, to her body and to her property had her mind twisting faster than the shitstorm that Micah let loose prior to her unexpected flight out of Pandemonium. No one treated her like that and got away with it. Andrew Shedim learned it night one. Carlo Fachiano found it out as well. Micah and Velveteen had more than enough experience with ehr by now to know that was not going to sit well with her at all. The bar just was raised to a whole new level and by the time she was finished she was going to clear it without that free lift he was so willing to give her without so much as asking if she needed it.

Once Satine found her way back into city limits a cab driver pulled over to the side of the road and gave a press to the horn. The seemingly oblivious doughnut eating cabby asked if she needed a ride. She made it that far without one so why would she now? There was a matter of feeling weak though and she was setting her designs on having him assist with that minor matte when he spotted her bloody details in her shirt and the compromised hand minus the digit. Obviously he was one of those who knew what went bump in the night. He rolled up his window and raced off. No matter. She just survived one of the most dangerous storms of the season. She doubted the Andras system was going to weaken anytime soon. It was not an act of surmising on her part that had her coming to that conclusion. It was cold hard fact.

[Andrew Shedim]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

SatineFirst and foremost her sire was a certifiable lunatic. Micah had lost his damn mind. Somewhere between her standing at the counter in the hotel and his finding her there he snapped. She was just fortunate he didn't snap her neck or spine. That alone left her with a grain of hope that it was not yet time to dig a deep hole.

A light shoulder roll took place as she stepped out of the elevator and did her best to conceal the missing finger on her left hand. It would not go over well with her husband once he found out. How could she explain that her sire not only chopped off her finger upon getting the news that she married but he also sent her flying through a wall.

She looked down the gray hall of the penthouse and sighed while she limped. Her *** felt like she used it to land on from a couple thousand feet up. Yes, It would likely be one of those heated conversations where he yelled, she yelled and Juice...well he wore his earmuffs so he didn’t have to hear it.

Satine made her way into the back of the closet and tugged the first black t-shirtshe could find off the hanger. Quickly she pulled off the bloody clothes and tossed them into the garbage and wiggled into the black t-shirt. With a quick slide of none other than New York Yankee’s boy shorts, she was back into her home attire. Now it was time to face the music so to speak. Peeling her fingernails off one by one would be more of a pleasure than hearing Bugsy giving out the rebel yell.

“Bugsy?” Satine called out in search of her husband. He couldn't be far. They had an evening ahead that did have plans. “ I need you to come out from wherever you are.”

Just as she said that Juice appeared like a wall of dark suit walking up to her. The usually calm and expressionless bloodthief looked like he had seen hell break loose and was on his way to run for cover. It hurt but she craned her head back to look up at him. As the pain set in she thought of Micah and felt her gums start to throb. The razor sharp beasts within wanted to be let loose to tear up his world one lethal bite at a time.

“Boss Lady…” He shook his head. “He is in bad shape. Got a delivery.” The warmth of concern in the man’s eyes dropped her her left hand and he shook his head. “That is just ******* wrong.”
“I will handle it. You take care of things downstairs.” Satine nodded towards the elevator. “Everything will be fine.”
“I told him to sit tight. He is holding a gun and the ring.” His eyes looked her over ignoring the attire he had become used to seeing her in when they were relaxing above the club. “Call me. Until then I will be watching the doors.”

Once Juice Box had faded behind the steel elevator doors it didn’t take long to find her husband. It was a task that rarely required a lot of effort. Especially since they had Aeryn do her thing and tie them up for eternity. Her throbbing silver orbs washed their gaze over him. He was sitting and waiting with a gun in his hand. She could tell instantly that the night was going from bad to worse without her saying a word. The visible anger across his features was her welcome as well as a warning that shitstorms were popping up all over. Imagine that. She was the walking into them like a moth was drawn to a flame.

The man of the new hour was the one in front of her. Andrew Shedim. Former gangster and Lionelli bad *** who was appearing less than happy with his view on the world that was crumbling fast. Moving stiffly she made her way to the framed Yankee’s jersey that likely had help falling to the floor. Picking it up she stepped closer to the wall and after a few attempts finally centered it with her remaining fingers. She was feeling the boil of anger rising as the energy from her soulmate found it’s way to her. She knew all too well what awaited him if she didn’t try to talk some sense into him before he took to his feet with the weapon in his hand.

“Baby…” As if using any term of endearment at this moment would actually soothe the beast waiting to be released inside Bugsy. “I know what you are thinking…” No, she didn’t. Not entirely. Which was probably a good thing. When he got started he made her feel sane with some of the things he came up with. “We need to talk.”

Satine moved over to Andrew slowly hoping the fire spreading from her head that was meant to calm her seemed to oddly be giving her the opposite effect. His visible anger was feeding her own. No one should ever get to him like this and get away with it. And no one should ever be able to toss her like a shot put through a wall and think that was all there was to it. There was a powerful cold front moving in and it’s name was Satine.

Andrew Shedim: His mind raced with how exactly he would seek retribution, receiving the ashes of his wife's finger and the wedding band made his blood boil in a way it never had before. A full on attack against Micah was definitely suicide but at the moment he really couldn’t care less, be it her sire or anyone else, no one touched the woman without dealing with him in one way or the other.

He could hear Satine arrive but made no quick attempt to rush to her, he was too lost in the thoughts his rage now stirred in him. When he heard the door of his man cave open he lifted his eyes slowly to stare at her. Usually he would be filled with the urge to wrap his arms around her, kiss her, but usually he would be far happier to see her. Even though none of his anger was towards the woman he was far too consumed by his contempt for the man that had turned her to even crack a smile. The ring now clutched in his hand was feeding that fire; getting to his feet he did his best to keep his voice calm.

“What the **** happened tonight!” so much for not yelling. “You want to tell me why that son of a ***** sent me your ******* finger in a ******* box!”

She was in his arms before he even realized he was holding her. He looked down into the silver orbs that were so often a source of comfort for him and it didn't take much to see the pain and anger in her eyes. He seized her left hand, seeing the missing digit with his own eyes furthering his resolve to confront the man that had taken it.

“Was he so ******* petty about you marrying me he had to cut your goddamn finger off!” If he could he would instantly take all of the pain that he knew she was feeling into himself but he would find his satisfaction in giving just as much, if not more back to the man. For the first time tonight he found himself smiling “**** him if he thinks it's going to be that easy.” He slid the ring onto her opposing ring finger “he'll never rip you from me.”

Scooping her into his arms he carried her to the couch, leaving her straddling him as he sat. His hands slowly sliding down her back as he kissed her, though his anger had not subsided in the least he would not leave his wife thinking any of that anger was for her. But something strange happened as he held her, the world around them literally disappeared as he felt a sudden jerk into the darkness only to rematerialize in an unfamiliar location. He made to grab her but found an all too familiar face was not only holding her but had a gun to her head! Then his eyes fell on the man he had wanted to see all night. He was certain Micah had spoken but his anger had muted the words.

“***********” he smirked, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol that was usually in his waistband, quickly realizing it was still on the coffee table, after all, he had not expected this instant face to face. He gave Velveteen a quick glance but his only concern was Micah. His lip furled, his body shaking with anger, all the words seemed to have left his body as the claws quickly extended from his hands.