Embrace the Point of No Return [Open]

[Jameson Dade]

April 2014

"No." The word was stark and cold, like a block of ice running down your back when you're trying to sleep. Some kind of kiddie prank.

"**** you, Chuck."

"Charlie." The man corrected. He stood about even in height with Jameson, but he had a curly red jewfro that made his hair look like an over-used mop. It was damp, because they were in a club, and there was enough body heat to make breathing difficult. Those curls clung to his scalp, marbling his flesh, giving it carmine veins. He had these intense brown eyes. He was also one of Jameson's sponsors.

Jay wasn't even supposed to be at a club, but he'd decided to go, because some of his old friends had invited him. They'd said they wouldn't push him to take anything. But they hadn't had to, because the moment he got around the booze and the coke, and the meth and the ex. Well there wasn't really much persuasion to it. He was a starving man, and he was in the middle of the ******* desert. You'd have thought Chuck would have gotten that. Hadn't his people spent like. Four decades out in the wilderness?

But that wasn't being fair, and it was probably a little racist.

Jameson wasn't in the mood to play nice though. He had called Chuck because that seemed like the sensible thing to do. Hadn't that been the advice? When he felt the urges, he was supposed to call someone. His sponsor. Talk to them. Let them help him. And that was what Chuck was doing. It was working. So why did he want to tell the guy to jump in a ******* well? Probably because what he really wanted was to get high, and what he needed was for Chuck to say that it was okay. Because that's what Max would have done. Max would have joined him. But Max was gone, and Jay was supposed to be taking care of himself.

"C'mon." Charles said. He clapped his hand on Jameson's shoulder, and tugged him towards the exit. "My cousin owns a Sweet Frog, and he says I can pop in any time. Let's make up something with gummy bears and..."

Click.

April 2016

"So then we get to his cousin's place and apparently Chuck didn't have a key. So he just jiggles the handle until it comes loose. Set off a silent alarm though, so I ended up in the back of a police cab, eating my froyo, staring angrily at Chuck." He explained as he tipped back his drink so that he could polish it off. He'd gone for some bubblegum vodka, because he'd picked up a taste for it after having served it to Adley once. "Cousin didn't press charges, of course, but apparently poor old Chuck had some outstanding warrants, and he ended up in the pen while I got out. I still can't go to that sweet frog without the employees giving me the evil eye."

He shrugged lightly, before shifting just enough so that he could twist on the seat, and lay across its length. His legs stuck over one end, the backs of his knees rested against where an arm might naturally lay. His head dropped lightly into Indigo's lap. Of course, he hadn't told her more. Like about how that had all been a big deal to him. How if Chuck hadn't sacrificed himself, Jameson probably would have just fallen back into drugs. Not that he'd stayed clean after getting turned, but that was another story. Or how if Chuck hadn't pushed him, he probably wouldn't have gotten a shitty job to try and pay his bills. Or how not being able to pay those bills, or take care of his mom, or take care of his dad had pushed him to that very first break in. The one that had put him on the route to meet Mora. To become a vampire.

Everything in life was connected in this intricate, ugly web.

His head turned. There was a low table in front of them, kind of like a coffee table, but fixed to the floor. They were in some club for lonely stoners. Jameson's kind of place. The music wasn't for dancing to, but seemed like someone had shaken it with a little bit of absinthe and oxy. Everything was mellow and filled with smoke haze. There were people standing around. Some people swaying. There were a few who carried on conversations, but for the most part, people were just there to check out of life. It was the sort of place Kas probably wouldn't have liked. Really, Jay probably shouldn't have brought Indigo, because people could be painfully unpredictable. Especially when they had enough drugs in them to put down an elephant. But he'd wanted to score.

It was being held at a decrepit, rusted, old warehouse. The whole thing felt industrial. The floor was cement which had once been painted some vibrant neon color, only to have faded. There were tags all over the walls, and sporadically placed furniture. There wasn't a bar so much as a guy with a few coolers and some kegs. Jay had brought his own bottle, knowing he wasn't in the mood for piss tasting beer. The bottle stood on the table, and Jay found himself looking past it towards the large sliding metal door, which opened to admit some new people.

"Speak of the devil." He whispered. At the very center of the new group was an old friend. Chuck. And it looked like prison hadn't done him any favors. The friends he was hanging out with now looked like they had been packing heat since they'd been nothing but an afterthought about not wearing a condom. Black leather. Denim. Some with shaved heads. Some with hair that reached down their backs. Some with beards. Some with face tats. And good ol' chuck had a jagged scar right over the middle of his face, but it was impossible to miss that ridiculous mop of hair.

Jay hadn't even bothered to try talking to him in jail. Things were about to get interesting.

This plot is courtesy of The Plot Machine

The word 'no' is one of the hardest to hear. When was one time the word 'no', really impacted you? Was it you saying it to someone else, or them prohibiting you? How did you cope?

Thread open to everyone. I won't be actively GMing, though Indigo's player and I reserve the right to flesh out the NPCs introduced in this post, and any new plot elements, if we feel things are in need of story movement.

Stick to posting order.

Please no more than 5 people total, for the sake of posting speed. Thank you!

<3!

[Indigo]

July 2003

“No!” The word was ringing in her ears as she heard her uncle’s voice deliver it with finality. “And you better get used to it. The sooner you do the better off you both will be.”

Wide indigo eyes didn’t look to the face that spoke. Instead their full focus was invested on the wisp of a body next to the kitchen counter that had looked like shell of what used to inhabit it. Weight was next to nothing for the taller than she remembered frame. The typically bluer than her own eyes were nearly vacant and hollow. She was not even sure that her brother, Davion, was still in there and it scared her. The ink on his neck, his arms and hands and the teardrop tattoo below his eye made no sense to her. She hoped it wasn’t permanent.

It hurt to breathe. Small lungs filled to capacity were caught up in the moment at hand and held onto what was already inside. A burn set into young Indigo’s eyes but she was afraid to blink for some relief. Her petite sunkissed hands tingled as the breeze from the open window flowed in and down across her fingers. The unusually hot afternoon suddenly felt cold and unpredictable around her out of her fear of what could happen next.

“Please!” Her voice cracked though in protest and she could feel her world beginning to unravel along with it.

“NO!” As soon as Phineas Knight roared she felt the word again and it was loud enough to send her jumping out of reflex. “See what you are doing to her?! You have no place here! Get the **** out and don’t come back until you are worthy of being here.”

At that moment the ground could have splintered around Indigo and she would have not have even noticed. Everything that meant anything to her was in that room. Her mother’s wide blue eyes set in nearly the same position on Davion’s face, her father’s hard line of cheekbones more evident than ever in his drug emaciated skull. So was her uncle’s blood who had taken on what no one else stepped forward to do and he did it well. In fact he did it better than her parents had. The eccentric bachelor who was the life of every gallery party, the one who could weave stories that would never end became an instant full time guardian to his young niece and his drug and crime filled nephew the day his brother checked out of life.

“Don’t go!” Her words fell on Davion’s back as the door opened in front of him then slammed shut. The last of what Indigo had in the world crashed into a billion pieces around her.

“He can come back when he is ready to clean up.” Phineas’ voice softened. He knew helping his nephew in the only way would work would also mean hurting Indigo who was too young to understand what he was doing. “It’s the only way. I can’t save him, Indigo but you can god damned well bet that I will not fail you. I lost them too you know. I...” He stopped when he saw the pools of tears forming that made her eyes seem so fragile, lost and endless.
“I HATE YOU!” Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough up the stairs to get away from him. With the slam of her bedroom door another opened...


April 2016


The utility door on the far wall opened as Indigo glanced over. A waitress spilled out, if that is what she would be with a bottle in both hands, and a chick following behind her. She tracked the pair of hard looking females towards the bar. Hard times seemed to be the theme and she was drinking it in with her eyes in random glances when something, someone moved.

The visual of Jay sitting in the back of police car, making sure he got his froyo fix down and looking bitter about it all had her laughing and dismissing the pair she was watching. As she did she was just in time to witness the last of the liquor leaving the glass in his hand and disappearing behind the lips fixed at the rim. She reached for her ordered sweet mix that was in a glass that probably missed the last cycle of the dishwasher. Leave it to Jay to return to the scene of the crime and be miffed about the frosty reception.

The vibe around Indigo was far from her usual but then again it was not as if she was experiencing some sort of culture shock. She had been in several spots such as this. Holes in the urban jungle that were fueled by the fading energy of the languid chemical hungry bodies that littered the place that appeared all but forgotten. It was easy to get lost in them, absorbed by the beings within like sponges wanting to soak up what you had left to offer to the dismal cause beneath a vein of up a nose or behind a set of nearly gone lips. It was easy to lose one’s sense of direction. The living examples of those at the end of their rope were seemingly dangling without care calling you to go with.

Indigo once upon a time went to these places, not this particular one, in a fruitless search for Davion. Even now she saw him, or glimpses of him, in each body that looked like it was where it belonged. The lengths of wasting away flesh lounging like blown up or blown out vessels of life in the fast lane ready to crash and burn. Her search ended when she accepted that he was gone. Still the wheels of addiction and its effects continued to turn.

As Jay spun around enough to reposition his lanky body Indigo relaxed and settled back. There was a fluidity to the way they all were with each other. Adley, Jameson, Kaspar and her. Each seemed to melt into the contact of the other naturally. Well, Adley was giving her a hell of a time but the guys were getting their fair share from him and she was going to as well. He just had to get the memo.

The weight of Jay’s head rested in her lap and her fingers found his hair slowly brushing it back. While she did her eyes lifted from the contrast of his hair curling over her fingers to the bulk of leather clad roughians entering the door. As she did she heard Jay’s words and felt a twinge of curiosity evolve into a full concern as she realized what he meant. Her fingers slowed their movements.

“Let me guess…” She glanced down then back to the group. “Which one is Chuck?”

[Jameson Dade]

February 2014
"Hi, I'm Jameson, and I'm an addict." He began, his eyes roving over the bodies huddled seated into a circle. They were layers of clothing which kept a safe distance and barriers between their skin and the chill in the air. But the barriers were there for another reason as well. Because no matter the intentions of the NA meeting, the people there would always put a little bit of space between themselves and others. Because when you felt like someone was taking a rake to your proverbial skin, making you bleed out your stories and your sadness and your shitty life, you wanted something to cover up your raw wounds and your exposed bones. People called it a support group, but the truth of the matter was that each and every face there was interchangeable with a hundred thousand others, and they existed to talk each other down from high ledges.

"This is my first Valentine's without Max. I guess I don't really know what to do with myself." He said as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "I don't tell very many people this, but he died when we were together. Like we both shot up and it was a really ******* great night. We had some money leftover from an impromptu gig in the park, and we got ourselves a hotel room, paid through the weekend. Of course, we made sure we had enough smack to last us through Monday. We were just going to sleep through it all. Warm bed. Next to each other. Floating. Floating. Floating." He paused abruptly, as he shrugged. Like someone had asked him something and he wanted to give as noncommittal an answer as possible. Nobody had. Maybe it was just him saying sorry to the ghost of someone who had long gone. By now Max was worm food, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. "So we went to bed, and when I woke up, he was just gone." After that point, things had gone really bad.

Jay caught someone looking directly at him from the corner of his eye, and turned his head enough to see some guy with the most ridiculous auburn afro he'd ever seen. He looked almost like a clown because he was insanely pale, and had this crazy sprinkling of freckles right over a nose. The guy was smiling at him and Jameson returned the expression out of habit. "So yeah. Valentine's Day never really meant a lot to me before; it was just a day to exchange stupid candy and hearts and ****, but not having that option anymore has just really been eating away at my head." I want to get high to make it go away. He didn't say it because they all already knew it. But he was done sharing. He had already said too much, so he sat down quickly after, leaning back in the collapsible plastic and metal chair. Then it was someone else's turn to talk.

April 2016

"Scarface over there." He said as he let one elbow lightly dig into the seat, pressed against one of Indie's hips. Only one exit, and Jay was pretty sure ol' Chuck had a grudge against him, a debt to settle. Wouldn't have been a problem if he was alone, because he could take a beating and give it in return. Shoot him in the face and he would spit the bullet back at you. But he had Indigo to think of, and he was certain that Kas and Adley wouldn't be happy with him if he let her get hurt. He silently scolded himself for having not taken Indie to a shooting range already. He realized pretty quickly he was going to have to fix that. And while Jay's mind raced towards different conclusions and potential problems, Chuck and his little group of thugs stepped further into the converted warehouse. They were whispering to each other, and Jameson wanted to know what they were saying. He couldn't read lips. Not even a little bit.

So he slid upwards. Knees dragged under him as he twisted. Chuck was looking around the room, and right when it seemed like his gaze was about to settle on Indigo and Jameson, the vampire leaned in closer. One hand rested against the back of the couch, with an elbow cocked. His other hand dropped to rest between Indie's legs – closer to the knee than along a thigh. His shoulders twisted along with his back so he could press their lips together. The kiss was brief and rushed. He'd seen that in a movie somewhere. Maybe it was Captain America. People didn't like to look at you when you were getting all PDA. So he suckled her lower lip right into his mouth and let her feel the dangerous presence of the fangs there. He didn't bite down, didn't shred the skin. And only a moment later did he pull away, glancing back in the direction of the door to make sure that they hadn't been spotted. It seemed to have worked. "Come on, Queen B-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l, let's get the **** out of here before some asshole ruins it for us." And then he slid one leg down off of the couch. He let his hand extend between them as an offering to her.

"We can slide along the sides of the building and get out behind them." Why had he given that tome back to Mora? Because she hadn't talked to him. Because she'd rejected him as part of her bloodline (at least that's how he saw it). Because she'd booted him from her board without a word. Because he felt like she didn't care about him, and he was so damaged that he couldn't just ******* go and talk to her himself. Oh well. The 'easy transport' system wasn't a thing anymore, so they had to be clever. Jay clasped Indie's hand, and danced towards one of the metal walls a couple of steps, tugging her along.

[Indigo]

July 2006

“No?” Indigo heard the word but was having a hard time absorbing what it meant to her.
“No.” Eyes lifted from the 8 x10 glossies on the desk then shot back their focus back to her. “You seem surprised.”

Sparkling bejeweled fingers wiggled enough to shift the rocks fastened to the gold bands beneath. It was then that she realized how gaudy the jewelry looked on the woman’s hands. Each hand pressed flat on the surface of the modern furniture between them. While the chair beneath the CEO of MODEL One agency moved back Indigo leaned forward.

“I will not waste your time or mine. I am not sure who has been convincing you that you have a shot at the level of modeling you are looking to get into. They obviously aren't in the business. Your name is the only thing I see standing out when I look at your portfolio. It would be great if you had something more to offer to go along with it.” The leather bound case closed and slid across the surface back at her.
“So, I need fresh shots?” Indigo was not giving up. She ignored the portfolio she had invested money in being put together. Money that she needed and she was counting on making back once she got the contract. “I can get those.”
“Don’t waste your time.” The woman had no difficulty in speaking her mind even if Indigo had trouble processing the feed back. “You don’t have what it takes. Your look is limited. You need work. More work than is worth my company investing time in. You aren’t natural in front of the lens. I see more personality and potential in my secretary out there selling Chanel’s fall line than you would.”

Indigo was waiting to hear the woman was sporting a twisted sense of humor. She stayed still. She was waiting to laugh. The secretary the modeling expert was speaking of was at least fifty years old. He barely squeezed into his suit and looked like he never saw the inside of a gym in his life let alone broke out in a sweat. A smile was beginning to form across her lips because any minute that line about he being a ***** with an off-putting sense of humor would be delivered.

“What does she know anyways?” The music coming from the car stereo was too loud and she quickly turned it off. She couldn’t look at Marina. “She is a total ****, Indigo. I told you she was. You know how many people she told they don’t have it? Plenty!”

The ride home was quiet. Her dreams were shattered along with her confidence. She really thought she had it all in the palm of her hand. Was Phineas filling her head full of ****? He had an artist's eye and claimed she could go places. Marina had her contract, her validation. She glanced over at her and studied her profile. Maybe it was Indigo’s lips were too full? Her hair needed straightening? Marina had full curves. Maybe she needed to pump up her own volume.

“Like who?” Indigo finally asked once the car was waiting in an intersection. “Who has she rejected?”
“Uh…” Marina didn’t exactly plan on being called out for a specific names. “Pretty much everyone who is walking in Milan under other agencies?”
“She said that her secretary could sell Chanel before I could.” She was too wounded from the rejection to tell Marina her claims on others being refused was ********.

Marina ignored the light turning in their favor and looked at Indigo with a dropping jaw.

“Yeah.”
“Okay, that is messed up.” Marina finally made the car move and Indigo felt just like that. Messed up.


April 2016


Indigo pinned her blues on the one who was singled out as Chuck. He was a mess of a guy. There was no way to candy coat it, friend of Jameson or not. Sure life was hard but Big C and the ones he walked in with blended in the worst ways possible. It was tempting to ignore the batch of burly pack and ask him where life took him once the steel bars separated him from Chuck. Scars.

Did Jay have some? If so where?

A scar could add a lot of character to what otherwise could seem like a dime-a-dozen face. In the right places it could be alluring and visible bait to the beholder. A little something extra that reeled in the curious hinting of a well kept story worth telling and even more importantly listening to. Such a line etched for all time into flesh could reveal a fight for life which could be considered precious to some, it certainly was to her. It could also be something so simple as a souvenir of sticking one's nose in the wrong place at the wrong time. Chuck looked like he could be wearing countless badges from both possible scenarios. Given his rough exterior he was candidate more likely for the latter.

Indigo glanced at her drink that she was feeling the need for then down to Jameson who was slowly moving upward to attention. She was unsure if it was his attempt at preparing for one of those unplanned reunions that would involve offering up claims of intending to call but never got around to it or taking stock of where the nearest exit was. Either way she leaned back and gave him the space needed to decide. It really was not a major concern to her. She still had the idea that despite the prior club shooting being in public was a deterrent to stupid people making dumb moves. And despite their questionable surroundings they were in fact in what qualified as public. It was containing more than a few sets of unfamiliar eyes and extra hands in case things became unfriendly. Right?

The view of Chuck and his band of questionable men was slowly blocked as the light press of Jay’s hand found her knee. When his shoulders dipped and his head followed just in that way it was impossible not to tilt and go with it. She was ready for a whisper, a quiet hint at perhaps what to be prepared for. Instead she felt the press of his lips and parted her own. The fullness of her bottom lip pulled between his own in the sweetest gentle draw. Her eyes stayed on his forgetting that there was a scar planted on a face from Jameson’s past that she was expecting to meet. The too-sharp-not-to-cut points of his teeth at the soft inside of her lip dropped her insides down to her feet. Chuck and the dive of a place they sat in all but disappeared. Her hands found the edge of the seat beneath her and her fingers curled just in case. Then it all came back with the retreat of his body and his the announcement that it was time to jump ship as inconspicuous as possible.

Indigo was fully fully prepared to do just that. Her long legs moved gracefully behind Jay’s lead while her fingers held on to the hand she trusted pressed against her palm. She felt safe, untouchable and ready to follow him anywhere. That was how it should be. Simple as that. But it rarely was how it should be and they were no exception. Luck was playing elsewhere. They were about to be left fending for themselves like every other set of ears that likely heard the sound of laughter growing in a less than genuine chorus followed by words too loud to be meant for the bodies littered around the space Chuck was last spotted hanging.

“Been a long time. Not even going to say hi?”

A small blue square bounced off the metal wall just above her head. She looked down and discovered pool chalk scattered in pieces. Her first thought was how in the world did she miss a pool table in the place. Was there one? The second was Chuck. Laughter rolled again.

[Jameson Dade]

March 2014

"Work was just really shitty today." He complained as his hands pushed their way into his hoodie pockets. His head was dipped and the hood was pulled so that the only visible part of his features happened to be his chin, and even that was tipped at an angle, like he was trying to touch it to his chest. He had adopted the classic pose of a child who knew that they had done wrong, been caught, and were really in for it. And to his credit, work was mind numbing. He had never finished high school, and hadn't gotten an equivalence certificate. The only places that would even hire him were for jobs nobody else wanted. Janitorial duty at a gas station. He didn't have work experience to speak of, because as soon as he'd dropped out, he and Max had been homeless. Living on the streets. Renting hotel rooms to **** in. Tucking themselves into dark alleyways where they could get high and forget about everything. The idea of 'us against the world' sounded grand until you realized how isolating it was. How people just gave up on you. Jameson was lucky he didn't have more of a record.

So he was trying to get clean. Trying to keep straight. Max's mom had been a real help. It was like she, who had always hated him, was trying to make up for not having been there when her own son needed her. She had even paid for his therapy. After Valentine's day, Chuck had come right up to Jay and offered to sponsor him. 'You sound like you have an interesting life, like you need someone', Charles had said. And Jay knew that he was too weak to do it on his own, so he had been happy to go right along with the suggestion. Let him lean on someone the way he used to lean on drugs. Let someone be his crutch, when he desperately needed it. But life was so ******* hard. He wanted his own place, but he couldn't afford anything. His job sucked, and people were ******* cunts to him for no reason other than that he worked demeaning clean up crew. By the time he got a paycheck, there was barely enough to pay for food and rent at home. Or for his father's commissary. He had been in 'sales', since he was in middle school. He could silver tongue his way into making someone buy just about anything. But jobs didn't like 'drug peddler' on an application.

So instead, he just got more and more depressed. More and more self-loathing. His opportunity to make something out of himself had passed him by, and he didn't have Max, and he needed Max. And he didn't have heroin, and he craved it every time he woke up. Everything was just too much. The bills and the **** job, and the people, and not having those things in his life which had always, always been there before. It got to the point where he didn't even want to wake up anymore. So he would just stay up for two or four days at a time, and not stop going until he was passed out. Redbull and caffeine pills, and insomnia. He felt like **** more often than he felt like a person. There were some people at NA who talked about how it was hard, but it was worth it, because you could make real connections with people. You could take control of your own life. But that wasn't true. That was the biggest crock of **** he'd ever heard in his life. His only friends had been users. His parents were users. Cut them out, and who did he have? The people at NA? **** them. They were in the same boat as him, and he hated them because they were supposed to understand him, but their stories just made him feel more and more alone. And how was he supposed to take control of anything? Doing things the right way. The clean way. Doing things abiding by the law just put him further and further in debt.

So he just kept shuffling through it all. Hating himself. Hating the world. Hoping that things had the ability to change without really believing they did.

"Tell me about it." Came the voice across from him. They were standing across from each other in the hall. Another day, another meeting.

"Just the people. It's like nobody even notices you. Like you don't even matter. It's not any specific thing. They just walk right by me. I might as well not even be there, and not a single one of them cares about me or my story or how I'm trying to do better. Not one of those stupid bitches is grateful that I'm not out on the street sucking off her husband for some extra cash, or --"

"Woahh, calm it down, buddy." Chuck said. And then he stepped across the hall so he could wrap his arms around Jay and tug him into a hug. Jameson was reticent to let it happen at first. He was ram-rod straight and he had no intention of giving in. But Chuck wouldn't take no for an answer. So Jay let himself press against the beefier man. Squeezing. Hugging. And it worked, a little bit. He felt a tiny bit better about the whole thing. Several moments passed in silence, and the other people who were leaving the meeting didn't seem to even notice. They knew what it was like to just need that physical contact to feel like the world wasn't a shithole.

"When will it get easier?" He asked, his throat tight. He could feel pressure behind his face like he wanted to cry, but everything was too dry to allow it.

"Give it time, buddy."

April 2016

Chuck was something from Jameson's past. He didn't want to deal with him or think about him at all. That was the problem with crutches, wasn't it? Once your legs were all healed up, you stopped caring about them. Why did they matter if you were okay? But even that wasn't entirely true. He felt a little guilty that his friend had gone to prison and he hadn't even bothered to attend his hearing or visit him. But that was how Jay was. If someone happened to go away, he didn't have the emotional maturity to go after them and try to fix things or make it right. He just accepted that they were gone. That he was abandoned and there was no getting them back. Yeah. Jay was really great at sabotaging his own relationships for that very reason. Because the only people in the world who could handle his attachment issues were people who didn't mind putting up with his ****. Who didn't mind enabling his need to be close to them at all times, and who were going to be there for him no matter what. Even if he was wrong. Even if what he really needed was for them to leave him to his own devices so he could figure his **** out. It was like trying to understand a paradox. That was what it was to be close to Jay.

So he lost himself for a moment in the taste of the indigo beauty. He could have breathed her every breath in and left her this fragile dead thing on the floor if he really wanted. Could have done that and even felt good about it, because of how she tasted. But he didn't. He pulled away at the right time, peering into her eyes, his own searching for a moment. He almost went back for more, but decided against it. They could make out more later. When they were safely out of the potentially hazardous situation. So they crept away from the couch. He errantly thought that they had a chance to make it out of there without being spotted. But there was one problem with Jameson. He could make it very hard to notice him, but that took effort. Without even attempting, left on his 'default' switch, people just sort of looked to him. It was like some kind of curse. Something about being an allurist, from what he understood. There had been times in his life when he had felt invisible and hated it. But now? Now he could have really used that darkness as a buffer between him and reality.

He heard that familiar voice speaking, words flowing to his ears so that he was forced to turn and face the skeletons in his closet. Or one of them at least. They were in public at least. That had to account for something didn't it? If things got bad. If there was a fight? Except the place was as much of a dive as the word could encompass. So chances were that the guise of being in a community spot wasn't going to be helpful. Jay had his gun at least. But it was tucked away, hidden so that he had to really reach for it, and there was no inconspicuous way to do that. So he decided to play along. Maybe things weren't going to be as bad as he thought. He dragged a smile onto his lips. "Chuck, you old ********. When did you get out?" He asked as he carefully placed Indigo behind him, taking a step closer to the man. The goons had spread out some. Not fully dispersed into the crowd, they had still gotten far enough away from Chuck that if Jay tried to take him head on, he might be able to kick his *** before they got close. But then that left Indie open. Play it cool.

"A couple weeks back. Who'd have thought I'd see you here. You know I've been looking for you, buddy." Came the reply. And Jameson could feel eyes boring into him. That scar made Chuck seem more intimidating. He didn't look less attractive because of it, but it certainly hadn't helped the shape of his face. "Let me tell you, there aren't very many places for a Jewish guy in the pen. Can't be friends with the white supremacists. Can't be friends with anyone else really." He said. The two men were getting closer and closer, like two prowling beasts who were assessing each other's strengths. Chuck's eyes were dead. They were vacant. Like he'd been using again. Jay knew that expression because he'd seen it in the mirror a hundred thousand times in the past. And that didn't exactly bode well. Or did it?

"Look man, I'm sorry I skipped out on you. How about we find a private place, get into some smack, my treat, and let bygones be bygones?" Jameson asked. He had the drugs on him too. He almost always carried. Stupid as that was. But what? Like he was going to let a cop stop him anyway? Maybe if he could derail Chuck's mind and keep him distracted, Indigo could make an escape, get back to the Hive. She was his top priority. So long as she was safe? ****. He didn't really care about the rest. Let them put bullets in him. He could take care of those just fine.

"Oh, JayJay. I don't do that **** anymore. See, when I was trying to find my place over in max, I came across some really good guys. They got me into something new. Special, just from Harper Rock. First time I had it, I felt like **** for days. In fact. You could say it was really bad for ages before I got a taste for it." They were standing chest to chest then, and Chuck leaned closer to breathe against his ear. "Maybe you've heard of it. Vampire blood. You know they say you died, Jay. Wonder why that is."

[Indigo]

December 2012

“No.” The answer was sort of unexpected. Indigo glanced up at Phineas from where she sat adjusting the ribbon on the present.
“Alright.”

Indigo tapped the brightly wrapped package out of reach and shrugged. Maybe her uncle was finally done with the whole spirit of the season. Perhaps just as much as she had been until she had been caught in the inevitable cycle of gift giving around the holidays that they never really celebrated before. Of course she could understand that but the red and white striped gift could have been considered for anything else. He had made great sales overseas in the galleries. He could see it for that. It didn’t mean that they had to go get all dressed up and invade some church and slide into a pew and feel that they were good people because they were in the place on Christmas Eve. She sank back in the sofa beneath her and watched him. Something was not right. It made her stomach turn a little wondering what it could be.

“I have to do something and I could do it alone but I really think this involves both of us.”

So much for happy holidays. The evening spent with her one relative she had left to claim could be celebrated at very least drinking eggnog, reminiscing and all that. JUst like they had every other holiday since her parents died and Davion disappeared off the face of the earth. The nearly always positive Phineas was somewhere else, at least in thought. And wherever that was it didn’t look like the holidays could even be enough to distract him. She at least was being included in whatever it was that they had to do.

“Anything special I should wear?”

If it was a last minute gallery deal she didn’t see that as something warranting his expression. Anything to do with art always brought out that smile she had found inspiring. Even if it meant they would not be curling up with eggnog and talking about the days when her parents were young and so was he living it up on the islands.

“What you have on will work.”

Indigo looked down at her pink hoodie and gray gym leggings. She really only went to the gym with the current outfit or to lounge around the house. Now she knew that he was preoccupied and it had everything to do with what he mentioned that he had to do. On Christmas Eve no less. What was open at that time of night on Christmas that she was perfectly presentable showing up in what belonged on a treadmill or on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and slippers? Could he have actually been doing this on purpose? Was there one of those ‘surprise’ deals in the works? Indigo figured it was wise to play along. Phineas likely was better at acting than he was at art. He had to be. She had never really seen him like he was currently. He moved past the entry table by the door to the garage. He reached for his keys and pulled out a small travel size package tissues from the middle drawer then closed it.

“I will be waiting in the car.” He spoke as he looked over his shoulder then entered the garage with a heavy exhale that was so large that she could see the cloud of vapor from where she was rising from the sofa. It was like he had held his breath forever for that to form. “We need to get going.”

Indigo slipped on the fur lined boots that were easy enough to pull up over her feet and to her knees. She pulled her down ski jacket from the hook on the door she passed sent one hand then the other through the arms. Once it was zipped up she opened the door to the garage and walked around the car to the passengers side. While she pulled the door open the garage door lifted and receded upwards over the top of the car. The leather seat beneath her as she sat down was already warming up. Phineas didn’t believe in freezing his *** off even if he lived in one of the more cold regions of Canada.

Nothing was said on the ride to wherever they were heading. Indigo glanced over at Phineas random times while she was busy flipping through the music choices. Reggae came up and she let it play. Even that did little to change the expression of near vacancy across her uncle’s features. She felt cold for the observation even though her bottom was wiggling now and then just to shift and let her rear cheeks cool a little. The time spent in silence outside of Bob Marley preaching the benefits of peace was reaching fifteen minutes before Indigo decided it was fair to see if anymore clues were available for what was to come. He sure didn’t seem like he was ready to pull out the hint of something grand and glorious that would have them out on the holiday in the freezing Canadian winter night. Especially not dressed as she was. Her silence was just long enough for the car Phineas was driving to arrive in the parking lot just off Greenville. At first she was clueless since she was looking more at him than the signs they passed by driving in. Once the car parked he pulled the keys out of the ignition and curled his dark fingers around them to close them in his palm.

“Indie, baby, I had to do this before because you were way too young but now I think you won’t accept it unless you come with and we see it together.” Finally his eyes lifted and when they did there was clear fresh wet lines down his cheeks. His hand went for the door next to him and it opened. “Okay?”

Phineas Knight rarely if ever cried. In fact she couldn’t recall when he had. Even at her parents funerals he was strong, calm and like a rock that she could stand on, scream at and cling to while the world came crashing down. This time though there was tears. He was breaking and she had yet to know why. It was Christmas Eve.

“Okay.” She was around the outside of the car catching up to him. Her arm slid into the comforting curl of his and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You know I got you.” She smiled wide like she knew what was going on but the lump in her throat and the twist in her stomach at not knowing was telling her different.

They approached the front doors and her body felt like the ground beneath it was dropping out from under her feet. Weakness took over and she felt her head spin. A flood of panic took over and she felt her eyes burning before he pulled the door open which was being pushed at the same by an officer in uniform leaving.

“Happy Holidays.” The woman said cheerfully as if they were coming into the mall at the last minute for that hard to find gift.
“You too.” Phineas didn’t look at Indigo. If he did he wouldn’t be able to get her any farther inside. He knew her too well.

“What is going on?!” Indigo was nearly stopping dead in her tracks keeping the door open.
“Get inside and I will tell you.” Phineas pulled away so that he could take her forearm in his hold and pulled her inside.
“Thank you for coming. I know this is not an easy time and it is the worst time of the year.” The man in the suit looked like he had been behind a desk for more hours than she had been awake. He kicked his jacket back as he fumbled in his front pocket for something. It was then that she spotted a badge.”Follow me please.”

Indigo looked at Phineas in shock. Was her uncle in trouble? No, it couldn’t be that. Was there something about one of his close friends he hadn’t told her. That didn’t make sense either. She moved faster to keep up with the men in front of her. She felt like she was in a bad dream. It was the holidays. She was feeling choked by all the red and green glitter and trim.

“Just to be clear you would be the uncle, correct?” The voice saying the words had not specific body at that point. It could have been from any of those that she passed as she walked by. The eyes that she met as she continued to move were sharp, assessing as if looking for something. Then it hit her and her feet stopped. It was as if she ran on batteries and they suddenly lost all power and she was shutting down.

“No.” Her lips moved but it came out in a whisper. There was a tug to her arm that pulled her off the spot she felt cemented to. “No!” her voice was a little louder. The suit with her uncle reached back and was greeted with a fist that formed mid air as it went without specific aim towards both of them. “N-O!” She kicked and she screamed. “L-E-T M-E G-O!”


The sounds of everything else around Indigo went silent. She could hear her heart pounding, keys jingling, footsteps of others coming closer and finally her uncle breaking down and crying. That right there said it all. Now she knew why they were there. She fought harder because she had nothing left. She refused to accept this. It wasn’t going to happen. A grip on her wrist squeezed harder than she had ever felt in her life and her jacket was pulled hard until she could feel her feet leave the ground. She was forced to look at her uncle so close she felt his warm breath, his words as they sprayed out from his lips carrying his tears with them.

“You are going to get your *** in there and you are going to deal with it. Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Indigo. Sometimes we lose.” He tossed her forward in front of him to land on her feet. “Get moving.” And she did.

An hour later she was in the front seat of the car and drained emotionally. It was as if she had lost everything she held out hope for, was cruelly tested then given it back. The brush of Phineas hands over her hair and her damp face did little to change what took place. It wasn’t Davion on that metal cold slab that they finally looked at but it could very well have been. The next one could be and she saw with her own eyes what could happen, what he looked like if it did and she finally felt like he was dead whether or not he wasn’t.

April 2016

Indigo was behind Jameson before she had a chance to register how good or bad the scene was that she was finding herself in. She watched those with Chuck disperse into their various chosen routes just enough then was looking at the back of Jay trying to act like she wanted to be there and maybe wasn’t even there while the conversation clearly became more between the guys catching up than she was needed for. Then the tones of voices of both were taking an odd turn along with the content of their conversation. It was looking less promising as the seconds passed that this would be one of those chance encounters where they asked who had a pen and a piece of paper so they could exchange phone numbers.

White supremacists? Couldn’t find friends? Indigo felt her hair on the back of her neck rise up as well as her irritation. What issue was it of Jay’s that he was a total dick and didn’t fit in? She had no sympathy for the guy when he caused his own issues. She also wasn’t too inclined to let Jay be made to feel like crap because the guy got locked up for screwing around prior to the whole incident at the sweet shop. All of it would have been avoided if he had not been out ******* around before hand. Just as Indigo was about to chime in the way the guys moved seemed to be one of those stand offs that two animals went into before locking horns. That was hardly a good thing. More people looked like Chuck’s crowd and that meant the odds were considerably less favorable than she first thought.

So, Chuck had been looking for Jameson as soon as he got out. Wasn’t that nice. Indigo stayed where she was but started looking at Jay for signals beneath his otherwise general movements. Did Chuck have a weapon? He looked like he ate nails for lunch. Of course he did. She looked around and it was obvious many did. Some carried their preference right on their side in a shoulder holster and others looked like their pockets were hanging deeper and a little more heavy than if they had keys or a wallet inside out of view.

Private place. The mention of smack was one of those things that Indigo knew she was in no position to judge let alone stick her nose into. It was a world she knew all too well from being on the outside looking in. And it sucked all the way around for those who did. For the ones on the inside it was a world she couldn’t possibly appreciate and fathom. But Jameson, she would do just about anything to keep safe, as far from harm as possible and was willing to give up blood, hair and nails for the man if need be. That said a lot because she loved her hair and those in the hive were worth it. He was family, he was going home safe and it would be with her. Now to get Chuck to accept that was a whole other challenge.


It was at that point Indigo turned back around and felt like she was somewhat out in the open. That was until she came back up behind Jameson and was close enough she could feel the heat between the two and of course as soon as Chuck leaned in to whisper in Jay’s ear she was there, hard to miss because she didn’t seem to blend well. Not when it was supposed to be just the two guys catching up and all that. Her hands slid at the small of Jameson’s lower back. Wouldn't that be where he would carry a weapon, if he had one. Not that she would really know fully what to do if she needed to but she could make sure he had it. Just to prove a point since Chuck seemed to be intent on pushing his grubby unkempt weight around like he was king of the drug den jungle they were standing in.

Chuck corrected Jay and of course was more than will to share he wasn’t into that since he found something else to give him that charge. She heard the mention of vampire blood and now she felt in the face of the unknown and fear itself that she needed to get her fingers into contact with what he surely had to have packed somewhere.

“Hey there.”

Indigo perked up over Jay’s shoulder getting a pretty close look at the Big C. She was ready to go all out on a limb and pull the I-am-*******-amazing-and-you-should-know-me card. Her hand slid into the side of Jameson’s waistband and locked in a way that could look as if she alway held on to him like that. She wasn’t sure how it would roll but somehow there had to be a way to neutralize the situation by making herself an unexpected addition and look like she belonged there. Worst case scenario things got worse, best case Jay and Chuck exchange phone numbers like cool cats and they strut on out.