Castle [Habren]

[Clover]

They lived out in the wilderness for a reason. They isolated themselves. They'd traded a Larch Court home for a compound. At times, Clo missed the simplicity that came along with living in Larch, the fact that they had neighbors, that they were a short walk between other houses. She missed the comfort that came along with a lack of break-ins. Circle added paranoia. Circle added bad memories. Circle added cameras and sensors and traps galore. Sometimes, Clo just wanted to rip her entire network apart and just wait for the hunters to find her, both human and vampire alike. Had she ever expressed her unhappiness with Circle? Because while she missed Larch, while she loathed the intrusions in Circle, she loved the apartment she shared with Jesse. She loved the intimacy the layout provided. She loved going home and having a home. Her Larch home paled in comparison. Kenny’s place paled in comparison. Fforde needed a home and Circle fulfilled the need. She couldn't complain about her long-standing paranoia, so she made everything about replacing traps. Clo picked something small and created a mountain. But in the pauses between breaths and the silence between sentences, she admitted the truth. She felt as if every break-in violated her a little bit more.

She took the elevator to what was considered the ground floor, and then she began to pace, taking in the state of the floor. The areas where her traps had been had scorch marks. Some parts of the flooring and walls had holes, where tripwire shotguns had gone off and fired rounds in varying directions, where bombs had exploded. How many times did she need to replace the traps? How many times did she need to tell herself that everything would be okay, that the break-ins would eventually come to an end? Clo had a big bag with her and she toyed with the idea of placing more traps, but she stopped herself. There was always the possibility. Clo stopped her pacing. Her boots stopped making the sharp noise against the hardwood floor. Habren came to mind.

Clo had hoped Habren could help, but the woman said she couldn't be of service. The elder needed more information, more than an image captured on a camera, and Clover couldn't provide the information. She had no name. No general direction. No luck. June had been scouring buildings, but that was useless when Harper Rock had so many hiding places. For all Clo knew, the second man had skipped town. He could have been a drifter. Clo shouldn't have expected so much from Habren. That was a problem. They'd met once, talked a few times, and Clo felt some connection, as if her blood whispered words of trust and comfort. Trust in her. Believe in her. And every time something happened, Clo found herself wanting to text the woman. Suddenly, she'd found some sort of confidante. Maybe she shouldn’t have, but she gave out the location of Circle. Maybe she shouldn’t have, but she removed traps from the main area, allowing Habren the entrance the woman needed. And Clo waited. The woman might show. The woman might not show. Jesse didn’t need to know.

The traps temporarily disabled, Clo had moved them to the exterior of the room. They had space to circle the small entry area, but Clo couldn’t escort Habren any further into the building. She drew a line there. Habren had to understand. Clover wasn’t in charge of every step of the building’s security, though she liked to believe she was the ring leader. Jesse controlled security for the elevator. Jesse controlled security for the main door. And Clover created the traps. They worked that way. They operated well that way. Clo left the bag of traps she meant to place in a large brown shoulder bag, a bag that went in the far corner of the room.

[To: Habren] If you don’t have anything better to do, we can go somewhere and talk.

Once again, Clo surveyed the damage left behind, and then she ultimately decided to go outside and wait, at least for the moment. Grey sweater loosely hanging off her body, she left through the main entrance and went out into the cold night. Habren didn’t need to see the scorched floors and bullet-ridden walls. Habren didn’t need to see the broken parts, the missing place where a camera once stood. And Jesse wouldn’t be furious. No, Habren wasn’t going inside.

[To: Habren] I can meet you there? 21, 31

[Habren Ashe]

WEARING

The Witch and her Killer had started their evening earlier than usual, in anticipation of one of their many moves. They had it down to a science; a quiet and random rotation of housing as they saw fit; a certain defense mechanism that had been born of too many conflicts to count. Retreat into solitude had been long craved and so, they had decided, what delay should there be in such a thing? That night they were headed for the cabin in a desolate part of the wilderness. They had scouted it long enough to know it wasn’t populated by anyone for miles, and had quietly had the place built long ago. Now it was time to return for the coming winter and weather it out there, together, as they had so many others. Habren had been greatly anticipating an evening poking fun at her bear of a male; no matter the centuries that had passed, he was still as cranky upon early rising as he had ever been and it tickled her to no end.

However, that lazy plan had been stopped in its tracks by the beeping of an incoming text message. A hand was slipped through long, dark locks as she set down her small bag and pulled out her phone, a device she had grown infinitely more comfortable using over the last couple of years. Technology had improved even in recent years so that she already knew it would still work where they were headed, though she never did anticipate many calls or texts those nights. And so, the refreshing change of pace had a smile crossing her lips as she took in the name accompanying the message – Clover and she had a good rapport and she truly liked her, to boot. A descendent who reminded her a bit of herself, if she were honest, with that drive and desire to protect who and what were hers, with a fierce determination and a seemingly well-defined sense of justice. It took no thought to reply; Habren was typically a good judge of people and Clover had long since won her over.

Of course, my dear. I will be there within the half hour, I must make a quick stop beforehand if that is okay.

She hit send on that, then quickly typed out another to Mircea:

I shall have to tease you more later, my love. I will be at the cabin earlier than planned, then meeting with Clover. Kisses. See you soon.

With those two messages sent, Habren gathered up the bag once more, grabbed another from beside the apartment door, and disappeared into the ethers to the new locale. It didn’t take her long to set her things aside and quickly unpack what she would need for the coming days and nights; Mircea was hunting and picking up a few more items for their anticipated longer-than-usual stay. When she returned, she would help gather up and stack some more firewood and stockpile a few more blood bags – just in case – but there was plenty of time left for all of that. A quick look at the clock told her it was time to go, and so, after checking the few weapons she carried (another unfortunate habit developed for forays into the public), she was off into the growing dark of night, to reappear moments later at the entrance to the address Clover had sent.

[Clover]

She could have taken a fadeportal. She could have been there in an instant. Instead, Clover chose to walk. Jesse could have been there, could have spent some time with the two women, but he worked. Clo chose not to interrupt him, though she could have, though she might have, otherwise. He already knew about the break-ins -- she’d texted him and let him know about both instances -- so she kept no secrets. He knew. The meeting between the two women had nothing to do with the break-ins, not really. Clo was curious about the woman, the elder married to the very head of the line. What was it like being in such a position? What sort of person was she? As Clover walked, she imagined the answers to those questions. She imagined that being in such a position became tiring, at times; she imagined that Habren was a strong, no-nonsense kind of woman, one with a heart of gold. Her imagination ran wild.

As Clo walked through River Rock, she did her best to avoid the soldiers. She didn’t need to wear blood and bullet holes to her meeting, not when she wore such a nice sweater. No, she needed to look presentable. She didn’t want to kill anyone, surprisingly. She just wanted to enjoy the short walk and arrive in a timely manner. When her phone went off, Clo moved off to the side, so as not to destroy the flow of foot traffic, and hit the on button on the side of her phone. Half an hour. Clo turned hit the one button again and the screen went dark. After that, she slowed her pace and really took her time. The city seemed quiet, much too quiet, but Clo couldn’t complain. The soldiers moved along. The police spared her no glances. Then she spotted a particularly leggy blonde, one with brown as her natural hair color, if her roots had anything to say about it, and Clo stopped once more. She looked beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. Hazel eyes. Breathtaking smile. And the dimples on her cheeks. Clo got lost in the dimples on her cheeks.

Clo had about fifteen minutes left and she was over halfway to Serpentine. Swearing under her breath, Clo changed her path and made sure it aligned with the woman. Instead of heading west, she headed south, further into Swansdale. The woman must have lived in Larch Court, for her footsteps took her in that direction.

Ten minutes left.

Clo took the knife from her ankle, the one concealed by the bottom of her leggings and the top of boot, and went up behind the woman. She pressed the curved blade against the woman’s neck. Clo had to lean up a little, since the woman was slightly taller. Clo preferred tall woman, model-like women. The woman didn’t even scream -- she took a sharp breath and stilled.

Seven minutes left.

Clo wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist and half-led, half-dragged her further into the court. She didn’t want to lead the woman to Kenny’s place, so she chose her own house. The interior was dark, the electricity having been shut off, so the streetlights filtering through the windows had to provide enough light to operate. Rope. Cloth. Tape. Clover didn’t know what to do other than to tie the woman up. She didn’t know what to do. Clo paced in front of the bound woman, the woman seated so perfectly on the desk chair.

Four minutes left.

“I promise I’ll be back. I’ll be back,” Clo said, pointing the tip of the knife at the blonde. The woman had tears in her eyes. The gag muffled her words. “I said I’ll be back!” Clo shouted then, stamped her foot, and resumed her pacing. She stopped, rather suddenly, and then proceeded toward the door. She’d double-checked the bindings, double-checked the gag, and everything seemed in order. “Don’t move.” The knife went back into its holster. Clo smoothed a hand through her long, dark hair.

Two minutes left.

Clo had to hurry the rest of the way to Serpentine. When she finally arrived, she found Habren standing outside of the establishment. She didn’t know what to say to the woman, so she simply smiled, a smile that didn’t tell of the woman she’d just kidnapped, of the one bound and gagged in her home. “Hey,” Clo greeted. “This is my husband’s place.” She sounded so proud, because she was proud. “I can show you to the bar.” Clo opened the door for the woman, holding it open until she entered, and then she went toward the bar. Over the black-and-white tile, over the red flooring. She led a winding path around tables and chairs until she made it to the bar, where she hoisted herself up and sat on one of the chairs there.

[Habren Ashe]

A smile crossed the elder’s face as Clover approached. It was always good to see those of her blood and even over the course of a half an hour, she had been looking forward to spending time with the woman she was only just getting to know.

“Hello,” she replied in her softly accented voice, the tone as sweet as ever. Such a thing was often deceptive; many underestimated the petite witch by her appearance and demeanor alone, a notion that amused her given her extraordinarily wild early nights. “I have never been here before, it is beautiful… what precisely does it hold?” She asked as Clover led her to one area containing the mentioned bar. Try as she might, and stuffy as she may sound to the younger generations, Habren had never quite been able to wrap her head around the use of contractions in speech. She was aware it put some people off, but she hoped Clover was not one of them.

The Witch eased herself up to perch on the stool beside the other woman, all predatory grace in yet another hint of aged immortality she had long since stopped trying to hide, still looking around and taking it all in before her indigo gaze settled upon Clover once more. “How long have you and Jesse owned the place?” she asked, fingers sliding over the bar’s surface in appreciation. Habren could always get behind a well-crafted place; no matter her penchant for cozy and simple, there was something to be said for good architecture and good use of space. Though it was only small talk and she had an inkling Clover wanted to speak about other matters, she was happy to ease into any conversation to start, and would leave the topic and pace up to her descendant as she pleased.

[Clover]

Clo had never really considered the place as her own, even in part, though she considered the garden as her own oasis. She supposed, because she and Jesse were married, they shared things, right down the middle, and still, despite the fact, she didn't feel right calling Serpentine hers, not even a little. For a few minutes, Habren’s questions went unanswered, giving Clo time to gather her thoughts. The blonde went to the back of her mind, as did further plans. And yet she still found herself struggling for words. “This is his space, his oasis. He dedicated another spot to me. I prefer it this way. It's important for us to have our own place, our own piece of the world. Somewhere we don't really share. If that makes sense. I just,” she stopped, momentarily, just to fidget with her fingers, “I just feel as if it's not mine and that's fine.” Even as she said those words, they seemed wrong, but she went along with them because she followed her heart rather than her head. Serpentine was his space. She'd always have Valhalla.

“He's had this place for years. Before he even turned me. It's a tattoo parlor, a bar, a paintball area,” she listed off, clearly quite proud. “It used to be called Gresse’s, but that was years ago, back when he was so close to marrying another woman.” Clo smiled, thinking back on those days; a wistful expression seemed too appropriate. Everything seemed about Grey, from the ground up. If it weren't for her. If she hadn't been so distant. If things had been just a little different. Clo always let those thoughts through.

“But I'm very proud of him, really. He's come a long way. You must be proud of Mircea as well. Proud of the fact that you're together, proud of your joint accomplishments. You must think on it sometimes. You two built a large network of a family.” Clo tried imagining doing that, but she only saw her few childer. She found contentment in that. “Even if Jesse's founded his own line, we'll always be Grigori. I've no shame, no disappointment, no hesitation in admitting the fact.” She didn't know how Jesse felt, not really, but she spoke for them both. She hoped he would agree, that he'd meet Habren, find the same spark, and see the bigger picture. “We appreciate what you've done for us, and what you've tried doing for us.”

Clo didn't know what else to add, so she let her words stand on their own. They had strength, where she withdrew. If things had been different, perhaps the two women would have developed a relationship sooner. If things had been different, perhaps Clover could have truly returned the favor. And yet things hadn't been different. Clo tried her best to make peace with the fact. Rather than let the conversation end there, Clo pressed on with a question of her own. “Have you ever regretted being a,” she paused and glanced around, making sure no one listened in on their conversation, “vampire?”