Hi! My name is....!

[Rhett Keyes]

Rhett had remained back in RetroKade while all the teens who could go home, had gone home, and the lone two that didn't, bunked up in one of the four bunk beds in a shared room in the basement across the hall from a room he had converted into a small bedroom for him if it got too close to dawn. Dhara had gone home hours ago since it was a slow night and not long after that, Sol. Rhett had promised to meet up with her after he was done at RetroKade, he just wanted to pay some bills online before he forgot about them. Mostly the water and the electric, because they absolutely needed those two things to not be shut off.

Rhett had never seen the two teens before, but he wasn't one to turn anyone away. They seemed to know the other and when he asked about things at home, it seemed both boys had been kicked out, or packed up and 'bounced' due to something one of them did. Something at school. Neither of them wanted to fess up who had done what, but Rhett had learned that both teens had been suspended and the single mom of the brown haired kid was fed up with the trouble he got into because of the other kid who was his partner in crime it seemed. Since he admitted to going home and packing a small bag with about five days worth of clothes before both his parents got home.

Rhett was a believer in letting things lay low for twenty-four hours. But come the next night if the teenage boys were still hanging around, he would suggest one, or both of them calling their parents, letting them know they were alright and see how things could be worked out. No one really wanted their kid to be a statistic in the end of things. And while Rhett was cool with them crashing for a night or two, anything long term would have to go to the shelter he had a very loose partnership with.

Rhett had explained the rules of the place to both teens. Once everyone cleared out, the games were shut off and that meant they were off until Rhett came back in. There was a television in the bedroom and the bathroom was down the hall. There was essentially no reason to go upstairs as there was no television there and the laptop would be packed away and locked in a floor safe. Both teens listened, asked a question here and there and then seemed good to go. After pointing out the small fridge in the corner of the room that had bottled water and a basket of miscellaneous fruit on top that, Rhett told them he had a couple things to do, then would leave them to it.

One of the teens turned on the television, while the other claimed a bed as Rhett left and headed for upstairs. As usual, Rhett would go around turning off each game, the building growing quieter and quieter by the minutes. The process usually took about fifteen minutes, as long as everything worked nicely. Some of the games were a little old school and second, or even third hand, so sometimes there was a glitch or excessive lag, but in the end, fifteen minutes was all it usually took.

Rhett was about half way done with his routine, the sound of music from Pac Man, Donkey Kong, pinball and other games bounced off the walls and echoed enough for Rhett to be in a 'zone' of sorts as he hummed along to some of the repetitive theme songs. As he bent over the 'Kings of Steel,' pinball machine, there was a movement in the reflection of the glass over the machine, startling Rhett. He turned, but not fast enough.

It seemed the idea of a safe appealed to one, or both the teens. There was something hard put to the back of Rhett's head, and he didn't have to be a genius to know what it was. “Give us the keys to the safe.” The one without the gun to Rhett's head bellowed out, as the one with the gun shoved Rhett against the pinball machine with a shove of his shoulder. Rhett held up both his hands and sighed. He'd been played, it was bound to happen at some point, he reckoned, but he hadn't expected it to be tonight. Though, no matter when it was, Rhett doubted he would expect it to go down. “I don't have any keys.” Rhett started before he felt the slap of the pistol to the back of his head.

“******* give us the keys, or I'll blow your brains out of your head.” The guy said as Rhett blinked away the black and white spots that appeared in his line of sight from the ***** slap of the gun. “There are no ke-” Was all Rhett managed to get out before he was suddenly slumped over on the pinball machine, the ringing sound of a gun discharging vibrating in his ears. ”He's still alive! ******* shoot him again!” The other kid shouted as he dug into Rhett's back pockets of his jeans to find the key they would never find, because the safe was a combination of numbers, not a key. Another bullet to the back of his head just as Rhett attempted to heal the first, but fell short of pulling it off.

Two shots to the back of his head wouldn't kill Rhett, but it sure as **** dazed the guy enough to just lay there slumped as the teenager managed to find Rhett's keys and head to the office. Rhett heard his office door open and some mumbled, hurried talking between the two of them, but he felt as if he couldn't move in that moment. He was too fixated on the hunk of his skull that had been blown across the glass of the pinball machine. Was that actually part of his brain, or was that just his flesh?

There was a sound of disappointment from the room, then the sound of something flying in the air, before it crashed against the pinball machine, then fell to the floor. He'd recognize the sound anywhere. It was metallic, heavy and cold. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, before the weight of his body shifted left and he fell to the ground. ”Waste of ******* time. Great plan, idiot.” One of the teens scolded the other as they headed out the front door of the sanctuary for troubled teens, assuming Rhett was dead. And in some respect, they were right.

(invite)

[Rhett Keyes]

Metaphorically or some ****. Rhett couldn't actually die; as long as Hudson remained, so did Rhett. Even if neither of them were aware of the other. It had been about fifteen years since Hudson had reared his ugly head, Rhett in full control of everything. The night he had seen his friends murdered, was the night Rhett had been born. The individual that didn't want to seek revenge, but another one that wanted to take the higher road. The passive road, one of redemption even.

When his dark eyes opened, the first thing he saw was a set of keys on the floor in front of him. The next was blood-a lot of it. “The fuuuuuck?” Came from his mouth as he sat up, and both hands went to the back of his head. It wasn't hard to feel two decent sized holes in the back of his head; one higher than the other. “OH, ****!”

The guy slid backwards until his back was snug against a solid surface. His head tipped back, both hands still over the holes in his head, and saw flashing lights of an arcade game. Where the **** was he? “Hello? YO! I said, is someone here?” There was no reply, so not wanting to take his chances at being a pinata again for whatever made the holes in his head, Hudson sprung up, slipped his way over to the set of keys and scooped them up as quick as he could. To him it made sense they were his keys since no one had answered and no one seemed to be there.

He had shoved his way out of the building and started thudding down the street. Where was he? What street was this? He tried to focus on the signs at the end of the block, but everything was slightly fuzzy and blurry. Just because, and mostly due to curiosity, Hudson pushed a finger into one of the holes to see how bad it was, and he snapped it back as soon as he realized how ******* bad it was. How was he even alive still?

“Hey, Rhett!” Hudson didn't turn, because the person wasn't him and because he had a couple holes in his head. Protectively, Hudson covered his head more, and crouched as he kept moving at a hurried speed down the block. Eventually, Hudson ended up doing circles, and he only knew it because he had passed the same bakery twice. “HEY RHETT!” A hand grabbed his right shoulder and gave it a solid yank backwards, forcing Hudson to turn.

“Dude, are you alright?” A guy in his early twenties, at best stared up at the much taller male, before inching backwards. “Ahh, look...” The curly haired blonde haired guy said as he held up one hand, while his other started pulling out a small rectangular, black thing. “What are you doing?” Hudson asked as his eyes fell on the sleek object, he now realized was a phone. ”Calling for emergency. Who did that to you? How are-are you a-a-a vampire?”

“NO!” Hudson barked out, as he reached out for the black object, but missing it by a few centimeters, given his vision was all sorts of fucked up. When he did that, the guy that knew him as 'Rhett' yanked his arm back and then did a runner. Hudson didn't waste any time chasing after the guy. It was as if it were almost instinctual. A need to protect something, even if he didn't know, or believe he was a vampire. No ******* way was the guy getting away from Hudson. He knew something and whatever it was, Hudson decided it was too dangerous. Too valuable for him to know. And Hudson had the underlying urge to protect whatever it was. Covet it.

How he was moving as quick as he was, didn't register with Hudson. As the guy sped up, so did he. Hudson was gaining on him and there would only be one outcome. Hudson lunged at the guy who was a little shorter and not as built as Hudson was, but still pretty athletic, given the way he was running. Hudson connected with the guy who practically screamed at being tackled, but he suspected it wasn't the tackle that had the guy screaming for his life. But the idea of him being a vampire. “Shut the **** up!” Hudson demanded as both hands wrapped around the guy's face, lifted it and slammed it into the concrete beneath. He had only meant to do it once or twice, just to get the guy to be quiet, so they could talk and reason with the other, but that was the problem. The more his head connected with the concrete, the more noise he made and soon, Hudson's main and only goal was to permanently shut him up.

But even when he was dead, Hudson wasn't finished with him. Before he knew what he was actually doing, Hudson was hunched over the body, inspecting the blood splatter, before his tongue darted out and dragged across the concrete surface next to the body. He should have been repulsed by it, by even trying the droplets of blood, but he wasn't. He wanted more-a lot more. “Someone call for help!” A woman's voice cried out into the night from across the street as she came across the scene. “Vampire! Vampire!” Hudson stood up on both legs in a panic, grabbed the body and slumped it over his left shoulder, before he took off down an alley he had passed at least two times since trying to find his way out of the clocktower area. He didn't know where he was going, all he knew was he had to get out of here and he had to do that fast.

[Marisol]

{ w e a r i n g }

When Rhett hadn't showed, Marisol didn't worry. She figured something must have come up with one of the teens and that he was busy. It didn't bother her, really. She appreciated how much he cared for them, as well as his business. After checking her phone to see if he'd left a message, she'd set the device down before returning to her own paperwork for Sanders Modeling Inc. Nicole, or Cole as she preferred to be called, chatted away amicably to her sister over Skype. There had been information on Cole's parents, about their relocation once the rift had happened and zombies began to appear throughout the old district that Marisol wanted. Not for herself, but for the laughing younger woman and her sister.

And, although a man named Ysmir continued to get in their way, Marisol was working on it. And as they did every night, before they retired for the evening, Cole and Marisol headed out that way. From the flats, Marisol was able to begin the hack while her thrall would plug a thumbdrive into the server, giving the allurist direct access into the government system. Push came to shove, and at the end of the night, oddly enough the night before the anniversary of her own turning, Marisol ended up with a childe. The thought itself was strange enough.

But, as strange as it was, it didn't hold a flame to the interactions from Rhett. In the time she'd known him, she'd never heard the man refer to anyone as "funny bitches", nor had he ever called her anything other than Sol. She was angry, that much she hoped was clear through her replies - she was still contemplating on whether or not she'd punch him for the comment made, but as she leaned against the wall inside Serpentine, Marisol was more concerned than anything. What had happened to have him react like such a "Dick." She thought unhappily. The comment about who had shot him hadn't been one that she'd been serious about, at least, not at first.

Her weight shifted from one foot to the other. She wanted to go ahead, but she'd agreed to meet up and they would look together. Jesse would likely be able to know more about what they were looking for, but she already knew where to start: Retrokade. "Come on, Jesse." She muttered impatiently. Nervous. She didn't know whether or not it was the allurist in her that had her emotions shifting so quickly, but she did know the constant burn in her throat had seem to take a hike without the help of cough drops.

In her back pocket, her phone vibrated twice before it was followed by the sound of bells ringing. A text message. She collected it without hesitation, wondering when she'd become such a teenage girl as she found herself disappointed at the sight of Cole's name on the screen. Have you found him yet? Not bothering to reply, she willed Cole to do something else - to put down the phone and go harass Ysmir - and she put the device away. Her tongue ran over her teeth, she shifted her weight again. Hopefully, he was just in a mood. Hopefully, he was okay.

"That was a pretty drastic change." She couldn't stop the thoughts as she began to pace slightly. It hadn't even been ten minutes since she'd arrived. Left, right, left right, left, right, turn. Repeat. She paused temporarily to pick up a pillow off of the couch, clenching it between her fingers. Marisol closed her eyes, reopening them at each turn only to close them once more before ultimately, she tossed it back onto the couch and dropped down. It was hard to sit still, to stay in one spot, she found as she got back up on her feet.

[Jesse Fforde]

RIGHT

Rhett’s behaviour was out of sorts, of that much Jesse could be certain. The man had only ever been mild-mannered, only ever speaking out of turn when pushed. The way he spoke on the Crownet was like he was a completely different person, and the first thing Jesse assumed was that he’d left his computer on and one of the teenagers had got to it. That had to be it, right? Some brat needed to be slapped. Or a nice healthy encounter with a vampire who just so happened to scare the living **** out of any human he came across.

So although he’d agreed to meet Marisol, he hadn’t thought she’d be there within seconds, waiting for him. He wasn’t as concerned as she was; he honestly, very seriously thought that they were merely dealing with a prankster. And they had to find Rhett not to make sure he was okay, but to tell him to keep control of the teenagers he let run free in Retrokade.

He knew he should not have laughed when he mounted the couple of steps from the portal drop to witness Marisol looking like she wanted to murder a cushion. Until she flung it away and dropped to the couch like an impatient toddler. It felt good, to see her there. To know they were meeting to go find another of his childer – a friend, really, more than anything else. Raegan was getting better, but still left behind to recover from the blood he had most recently fed her. And then there was Ysmir, the man Marisol had sired and whom Jesse looked forward to meeting.

It was funny, the way things worked out when one stopped trying.

”Don’t be so concerned, Sol. It’s probably just one of the teenagers,” he said, holding out a hand to indicate that she could get up again. Jesse’s keys jingled in his pockets. His wallet was in his pocket. He had a gun tucked into a holster at his back, hidden by his shirt, and a rather vicious dagger strapped to his ankle just inside his boot. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if he was being optimistic. There was an inkling of concern, a curling of dread that he refused to look at; vampires were funny creatures, prone to weird accidents and strange curses. They could rear their heads at any given moment, without warning, without pre-amble. There was a chance it wasn't a pranking teenager. There was a chance that something was seriously wrong. But someone had to have their head on their shoulders, and Jesse was well-trained at brushing off the heavy.

”Retrokade? Let’s go, then. Quit dragging your ***, woman,” he said with a grin, passing Marisol by as he headed for the exit. Ready to roll.

[Rhett Keyes]

Running proved to be more difficult than Hudson expected, especially with a body draped around him. His vision was off kilter, to the point he was bouncing off walls and other permanent fixtures erected by the city. A fire hydrant here, a newspaper stand there, a shop where Hudson abandoned the body completely after he had tumbled with it and did a few rolls that scraped his lower bare arms up pretty good.

People were shouting and screaming at him, and at the dead guy left behind outside the shop. More cop car sounds erupted into the night as Hudson bolted north, only to see the error of his ways. River bank everywhere and so he ducked behind a fence that had been intentionally cut from bottom to midpoint by someone, and inside an old building that had seen better years. Since his vision was ****, his shirt had been caught by some of the fence, as Hudson misjudged how tall he was, versus how tall the opening was. After a quick struggle with the fence, it left a fraction of his shirt within the metal kinks, leaving a good portion of Hudson's back exposed from the missing fabric. Not that it mattered. He couldn't tell how hot or cold it was outside on any part of his skin.

There were coughs and low mumbles throughout the only floor of the old power plant. The sound of crackling from a fire somewhere within, and the scent of burning embers. Hudson rubbed at the back of his head, closed his eyes and leaned against the wall that was behind him. It reminded him of his ripped shirt, but the cool of the building's wall felt good to Hudson. He took a few breaths in, then let them out, before he was interrupted.

"Hey man. Two hundred bucks. Got it right here." Hudson opened his eyes to see a guy around his apparent age staring him in the face. "What?" Hudson asked, not sure he heard right. " I said two hundred bucks." The cash was thrust in Hudson's face, before it was smacked away by the tall vampire. "What for?" Hudson asked, before the guy damn near choked in laughter.

"Don't play stupid, man. Your blood. It's obvious you're a vampire." Hudson glanced around, finally seeing the bouncing flames from a turn in the building's interior design. "**** off." Hudson growled, mostly because he was confused. He slid his way towards the flames, the guy trailing behind him. "Two hundred and I got...you like to get high? Got a couple dime bags on me. Some meth. Tell me your flavor." The guy should have let up, but like some people, he would learn the lesson too little too late. "You, *****!" Hudson grabbed at the guy two different times before linking his arms around him and forcing them both to the ground due to his towering frame and build. Then, without any hesitation, Hudson sunk his fangs into what he assumed was a hobo's neck and started draining him dry as his legs tried to kick free from under the taller guy.

[Marisol]

At least worrying wasn't her default setting. Marisol silently thanked her natural easy going nature for that. As she heard Jesse's laugh, however, some of the sensation eased away. Jesse was there, she was there. Together, they would find Rhett. Taking hold of her sire's hand, she pulled herself back up and frowned. "I doubt he'd be that careless though to let them get to his phone or to the computer." It just didn't sound like him, but she shrugged it off as she slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

It was one good thing to know that Rhett didn't cause trouble. Out of the two, Marisol was more likely to cause and receive it. The allurist tended to have it find her whenever she went out on occasion. His easy going nature was one of the things that she liked best about him. "I'll be able to pull up the security cam feed. Might give us an idea?" Even if she didn't work at Retrokade, Marisol was capable of hacking into computer systems.

"He was there last that I know of, so it's certainly the best place to start." She said as she followed after Jesse. . "There's the apartment beneath, too." Other than the bar, she couldn't think of very many places to look. If she knew Dhara's number, she would have already called the woman and asked if she'd seen him. Releasing a useless breath of air, she pushed the open as she reached it first and held it open for her sire to pass through. . "It's over in Coastside, The Clocktower. Not too long of a walk, but the transit would be faster."

Mentally, she added that she needed to get a car or something soon. The transits took too much time when she could just be dealing with less people. Though, the thought did remind her that Rhett likely drove to work. If his car was in its usual space, then he'd likely be around, right? She told herself that she was worrying way too much. He'd probably laugh at her. Tease her a little. "If it is just teenagers, I'm going to get those little weasels. They're good kids, though."

[Jesse Fforde]

Jesse gave a slow shrug. Rhett might not be careless enough to allow them to get near his computer or phone, btu these things happened and teenagers could be right cunts. He’d been one of the cuntier kind. He knew these things.

He nodded when Marisol suggested they bring up the security feed; he didn’t ask whether that was something she’d be able to do at a distance. He assumed it would be easier to do on the premises and, if something had happened at Retrokade it was the best place to be. Jesse could explore while Marisol hacked. There was no reason to question their plan.

And while Marisol suggested they either walk or take the transit, Jesse remembered he’d left his bike parked in the little alcove behind the shop the night before. He backtracked, rifling around behind the counter to retrieve his own helmet – a glossy black with a silver, hissing snake painted on the back – and the spare, which was a little dusty, and just a plain black. But it would do the trick, and keep them off the authority’s radar.

”Why walk when we can ride?” he said once he was back out on the footpath with Marisol, tossing the spare helmet in her direction and pulling the other over his head, even as he led the way around the corner to where the bike was parked.

”Let’s get this show on the road. Go find our wayward friend,” he said with a smirk that wouldn’t be seen under the helmet. He swung his leg over the bike and waited for Marisol to climb on before kicking up the stand and igniting the engine. The bike roared to life before settling into a gentle purr. He’d wait until Marisol was holding on before taking off.

[Rhett Keyes]

Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was some sort of unspoken bond between the bums and hobos around the empty power plant. But as soon as the bum's, whose neck was being ripped apart by Hudson let out a garbled scream, things started happening. Quick steps that had some sort of purpose started swarming their way, followed by the sounds of metal scraping some concrete. Hudson looked up from his 'meal,' and saw that they weren't alone anymore.

Two, turned into five, and then five into a dozen or so. It was hard to keep up with the changing size of the crowd and the audible murmurs. The metal sounds were easily identified by the licking flames in various metal drums placed around the inside of the building for warmth and a light source. Litter, or things people could use in their environment to build **** was their weapon of choice. Poles from old fences, wire wrapped around sticks and other items that only those who had a hard life and nothing to work with, could design.

Hudson pulled his fangs out of the guy's neck and then tried to get a quick head count. Seemed about a dozen. An angry dozen. Some were screaming obscenity about the loss of their 'friend' Bobby. Others were screaming about vampires being a drain on the city and other things Hudson couldn't make out given everyone seemed to be talking, rather, shouting at once. "Guessing Bobby was a cool guy, huh?" Hudson commented as he wiped Bobby's blood off his lips and chin, waiting on the defensive for the first 'attack.'

[Marisol]

She had always been more than just a pretty face. It was something that Marisol had prided herself on. A philanthropist, a model, and someone who enjoyed the outdoors, she'd spent the majority of her adult life working hard. Her parents had always been one to encourage her to find a decent guy and settle down after Chrysanthemum did. But, she'd never found the right guy. She hadn't even remotely come close; first there was Alec, and then there was Tommy. Both were rough around the edges, profane. They had never hurt her, but they had babied her and acted as if she hadn't been able to think for herself.

The moment they had began to speak for her, or seemingly insult her, the woman had often walked from the relationship. Her head held high, her back straight. It had hurt her on some occasions. Derry, a man whom she'd briefly been engaged with from the ages of twenty-four and twenty-six until he suggested she leave her career, had hurt the worst. In between each relationship, she'd never have issues sleeping around. Married men - usually the result of a snide woman making a remark that her man wouldn't stray, single men, and even emotionally unavailable men, it hadn't mattered to her.

Slut, had been the best way to describe her for ages.

Relationships, connections.

They had all come and gone, and perhaps that was why Rhett was so special, at least to her. There had been some connection that intrigued her. He had gotten her to laugh and smile sincerely, had helped a complete stranger escape a bad date simply because they were both mutually connected through Jesse and Logan. She appreciated how much he’d cared for the teenagers, even if some of them were little jerks, but good kids all in all. It was commendable, really, how much of a heart that the man had. Marisol had also rather enjoyed the night they’d done nothing but talked until they’d fallen asleep. She couldn't remember the last guy she’d actually been able to have a long conversation before it had been forced as a thrall. And even then, she’d not really had a choice in the matter - Logan had been a talker when he was in one of his “I need to create a masterpiece” mode. Eye rolling and silence wasn't his favorite answer.

As she caught the helmet, Marisol gave Jesse a look before she put it on. “I swear if you begin singing anything to do with searching in merry content, I will punch you.” She said as he started the bike. Removing her phone from her pocket, she double checked her messages before sending another text, On my way to RetroKade. Message me back soon? to Rhett. It didn't hurt to be overly concerned, did it? It wasn't as if she could control it, though. She was trying. Climbing onto the bike behind Jesse, she set her hand on his shoulder before she felt she had a steady balance and pushed down the shield of her helmet. It had been a long time since she'd ridden on a bike. Tommy had one, hadn't he?

[Jesse Fforde]

Jesse chuckled.

He could sing, of course, but over the sound of the bike and the wind it wouldn’t be heard; and it wouldn’t be very good, either. He waited for Marisol to settle on the back of the bike before peeling out onto the street. He’d been to RetroKade a few times, and he knew where he was going. The streets were, at least, quiet, and it didn’t take them long to get there. There was no conversation, it would be nigh impossible to have any kind of conversation on the motorbike.

Even when they arrived, Jesse said nothing. He wasn’t a huge talker at the best of times, and he and Marisol had a mission, a goal. Some of the shops were closed, some still open, and it was quiet, mostly.

RetroKade itself was closed, and though Jesse could have got in with his Shadow abilities—and summoned Marisol in right after—there was no need. He assumed that Marisol had keys, given she worked there, so he waited for her to let them both in rather than break into the place. If there was security that needed to be switched off so they wouldn’t set off alarms, at least she’d be able to do that, too.

The fact that the place was closed didn’t give Jesse much hope that Rhett was there, somewhere. Honestly, he was hoping it was a huge misunderstanding and that they would find Rhett buried in a pile of bookwork, completely oblivious to everything. No such luck.

”Okay. Get to the computer and get to work. I’ll have a look around,” Jesse said, nodding to Marisol as he split off to investigate.