Not Here [Cristiana,Open]

[Narla (DELETED 10434)]

Narla found peace in her high-up place. The wind whipped around her face, bringing with it the aroma of rot and gunpower. As terrible as it was for certain, she liked the smell. It drew a picture, a sort of sense of reality in a world where it was difficult to distinguish real from imagined, and long dead from living. Far below, an invasion of souls, some she was certain were not but most of which were, go about their daily and nightly lives and lives once lived. Chatter and bitter laughter, bloodied limping and hurried steps, shadows and clear faces.. all a mess to decipher. Sometimes she could tell the difference, but here in Harper it made her head swim.

She practiced with subtle, discrete touches to find tangible fabric, flesh, metal.. something to keep her aware. She would attempt to memorize faces of the people she discovered were real… the very people that tried to get her attention in some angry way because she ignored them.. She didn’t always ignore those that spoke to her, sometimes it was difficult. The child looking for its parents, a flirtatious soul, a creep or an angry stalker. Narla encountered plenty of those. But.. for the most part she kept to her thoughts and her music if it were possible. Surely she was rude in their eyes but had she explained herself it would put her in a dangerous place. Narla thought that. Even though she stood on the edge of her favorite clothing store’s rooftop looking down at the occasionally unoccupied pavement below with a soothing orchestral melody playing through her earbuds, she believed there was a place more dangerous than where she was.

And.. people eventually went their own ways whether they saw her or not, if not immediately.

[Jack Diddly]

A lonely wind blew through the corridors of the dark concrete jungle that was Harper Rock. It whistled a tuneless song to no one in particular as it drifted over and whirled around the folks still brave (or foolish) enough to be wandering the shadowed streets. The conversation, laughter, and rush of traffic that acted as its normal accompaniment had an added facet this evening. Something that added an octave to the chorus of the ever dwindling population of nighttime pedestrians. Still it was soft and rhythmic almost giving a sense of purpose to the night’s natural summertime melody. A groovy little tune, low enough to ring out through the high pitched chorus of the streets.

The man in the patchwork, ivy cap wandered slowly down the boulevard, filling the hurried evening with a melody of his own design, as he blew through the chambers of his harmonica. The small, silver harp, that caught the moonlight between his fingers, was one of the few items he was sure to never be without. When a song was apt to fly into your head at any moment, it would be a shame to let it fly off into the abyss again before it could be played into existence. And, hey, the world could definitely use every bit of song it could wrap its ears around right now. The tall, skeletal vampire couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening, though, in truth, he was guided by more than a whim. Reality’s greatest force had taken hold of his soul. Any ear that happened to catch his tune tonight would have heard it clearly. It was the cornerstone upon which each note had been built.

The gentle humming of May’s smooth, soft voice teased his mind like the twirling of so many feathers across the exposed surface of his brain. Her voice was the only that he knew that had the peculiar quality of being so comforting, yet so maddening all at once. Some nights it was the only voice he could hear, her song drowning out all others. His phantom paramore kept up with the tune that flowed from his harmonica. Jack knew if things had been different, she’d of written some lovely verse to go along with it. It was the type of tune she’d have created while they held each other in the dark. So much so that the more the vampire played, the more he wondered if she were directly inspiring the diddy. Beaming the words right into his mind, like something out of a sci fi novel. Her spectral visage danced up the sidewalk ahead of him, long auburn curls bouncing with the beat. Jack had been following her all evening, not quite sure where the fair and freckled spirit was leading him tonight. Even though most nights they ended up nowhere, he felt compelled to let her lead him. As the ghostly gal swayed past a young couple walking arm in arm in his direction, he could never quite understand how the white bohemian dress she wore ended up bloodsoaked. It hadn’t been the frock she died in, but the one he’d buried her with. Part of him was afraid to ask.

They stole a glance at him, the passing couple. It wasn’t everyday a young man in a beat up leather jacket wailed away on the harmonica for the enjoyment of John Q Public. That was who Jack was though, a guy who’d made his way by providing a bit of enjoyment for the ears of an unsuspecting audience. He was quite sure that the shy smile that graced the young lady’s lips was meant for him. Not that it mattered, the only girl he had eyes for continued to dance up the sidewalk, her bare feet barely touching the ground, that soft humming calling to him, like the Pied Piper’s flute, beckoning him deeper into this shadowy world. Still it was nice, to not be seen as a monster. Despite his pessimism regarding humanity, he hoped that those two made it home safe tonight. Hoped that they’d hold each other tight for many nights to come.

Often he wondered if this was his punishment. Doomed to follow, but never truly take hold of his darling deceased. It was like having to watch her die again each and every night. There was no way to move past it. Not to mention thoughts like that, of wanting to forget, made the guilt all the worse. It all seemed so comically dramatic, like the plot of some retro soap opera, but at least it made for a good song. And there was a peace to be found in the notes of the song. The vampire could only hope that they would carry him far away, up into the stars or maybe down into the depths of the earth. He wasn’t picky.

Then just like that, May vanished just before turning the corner. His spectral sweetheart had a habit of that. The tickle of her hum continued to torment his mind, however. Gone, but not truly gone. The bittersweet story of their afterlife. It looked as though she’d led him to another dead end. Jack stood on the corner, across from some clothing shop he wasn’t familiar with, in a part of town he was sure he’d never been to. He played a few more notes on the harmonica, wrapping up the song, tying the the groove altogether. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep playing, but he was jonesing for a smoke. He slipped the harmonica inside the front pocket of his jacket and began to fish around for his menthols. A few more folks crossed his path as he leaned against the dark brick of the building on the corner. It was just after striking a match and bringing it to the cigarette at his lips that he saw her. Jack wondered how long she’d been standing at the edge of the adjacent building’s rooftop, how long she’d been staring off the end of the earth. She was so still, so silent, it was no wonder he hadn’t noticed her earlier. If he hadn’t happened to glance off at the stars, he would have missed her completely. Jack waved out the match flame and took a drag of his smoke. He tipped his cap to her, pondering over her intentions. May’s humming had faded into the abyss.

[Cristiana]

There was a new renewed wind in the young vampiresses sails. Not that people could tell she was a vampire that easily since her complexion rivaled that of a humans, even if they read her aura it was said that she looked rather human in that aspect, and of course there was her constantly nibbling on food. It wasn't that she could even recall ever being a human to have such mortal traits but it helped her keep a semi grasp on reality, or what was left of her humanity. She closed her eyes, tightly, as she passed along the mirror. A mirror she meant to have removed but lacked the motivation to do this yet.

After changing from the pajamas into something basic, for all that knew her this was out of the ordinary. She had always been strict going out of the house; business suits of various colors, corset top and hair tight in a bun. Now, her hair was either loose and falling to her back in springing curls or tied back in an elastic pony tail holder. The waist long hair cut gradually away. Tonight she grabbed a red tee shirt and black jean pants. She didn't really care what she looked liked, the clothes smelled clean.

For a while, she was staying back at the beginning. The Beta Towers apartment, which was conviently located right near the Metronome Club in case she wanted to go in because she certainly didn't have to go in. However if she did, she was wearing close enough that all she had to do was change her shirt. All these businesses, all this money and she wore junk she had laying around the apartment. It use to be imparative she dress accordingly now she didn't give a rats ***.

She veered away from the club that night, not really heading anywhere. It was quick to learn how to avoid the zombies and police that were swarming the town. A side step here, turn and twist there and she never had to deal with them. Nor did she have to reveal that she was vampire in the method of slaughtering the zombies. It was an after thought about killing the cop... it would be so easy. So so very easy...

As she walked she found herself lost in thought and vaguely paying attention. She did that a lot if seemed as of recently. She woke up standing near a female, not even if she had been conversing with her. It was clear she could tell the female was human right away, she too glanced over the edge of the clothing store to the ground. It could be so easy for others to jump and go splat, not so much for her. She kind jumped and went opphhmm.

She looked to the female, "How did I get up here?" It took a few minutes to blink and come back this forboding sense of reality. She focused on the female, young as she looked but over the teenage hump. If the girl was plotting to jump, she didn't act in accordance to stop the young woman. Just asked her simple question because... she really didn't recall climbing a building.

[Storyteller]

==========AUTOMATED POST==========

Ripper attempted to perceive something about Narla, and was successful!

[Ripper]

Something was amiss and this was causing him to be aloof. The strange compulsions or impulses he had been feeling no longer were plaguing him any more, but he had no substantial solutions to why they had arose in the first place so be pushed them back into the most vulnerable spots of his mind and momentarily dismissed the matter for now as simply that he was going crazy.

The cramps from his long stillness would have been the only reason at all that had spurned him to move-this was certain-but following his cross city transit to once had been some older haunting grounds he happened upon noticing several others who were also not out of place especially considering their familiar surroundings, but was something tugging with a consistent insistence inside his mind that perhaps there were others here who were also disjointed.

[Storyteller]

==========AUTOMATED POST==========

Ripper attempted to perceive something about Narla, and was successful!

[Narla (DELETED 10434)]

Narla felt the rubber soles of her shoes grind against the edge, shifting her just a little nearer to the drop. Her heart raced from adrenalin, the thrill of her impending flight. Her wings would tuck on her way down, only to gain momentum so she could finally fly away from this place. It would be easy, all she needed to do was let gravity guide her. So why was she shaking? Why was she still standing here? Narla could feel herself trembling with joy, it had to be joy. She was happy to be up here, more than happy to be like the birds.

Her eyes stung from the rain in her eyes--the rain from her eyes. The waif knew them as tears of happiness. She wanted to do this. Why did she hesitate? She wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. They blinded her, those tears, she didn’t want to dive the wrong way. Her gaze refocuses on the gray below.. she watched the people glide by like blurs in slow motion, waiting for a clear path. It was so hard to tell who did not possess a body that might be in the way.

Narla waited only a little longer. She watched as a woman, covered in blood skipped across the pavement. She couldn’t see her face. She couldn’t hear the song the spirit sang, there was a different song in her ears, but she could safely assume the woman no longer had a body. Narla then caught the face of someone, living or dead she couldn’t tell, staring up at her. He was still among the monotonous, lulling flow of the stream. He tipped his cap to her. She stirred her gaze away to the ground again. There was no hat for Narla to tip back at him, nor enough confidence that he was ‘real.’ Maybe he expected her to drown with him in the sea of wandering souls. She wouldn’t allow herself be stuck here.. not with them. Not with her vile imagination, and constant disappointment… stubborn loneliness.

Narla’s eyes welled up again, but she furiously cast the waters away with a swipe of her wrist. She slowly tilts forward over the edge when the voice of a woman tears her trance off its hinges. With a jolt, she inhaled with a start, eyes widened with surprise as the grip of reality tugged her by the shirt off the side of the building. She thought no one was up here…there with her, but it was a little too late to go back. She was on her way down, but she forgot to tuck her wings. She knew she wasn’t going to fly away quickly today.

[Ripper]

Before he knew it his body was airborne. Jettisoning himself off the ground with a mighty leap he reached out with stretched arms, he tried to extend the rest of his body out into a finer point so as to cut aside on the the flow of direct aerodynamic gusts while volumes of displaced air whipped across his face and tugged with an icy chill blowing askance his hair and clothes.

For the jaw dropping minute while he reached the very arch of his parabola and he felt himself responding again once more to gravitates affect. The question now was if she (Narla) had already been in motion already long enough to reach the terminal velocity needed for catch up with him before they both equaled out in their free fall back down to wards the rapidly gaining ground on the earth below them.

(Power: Super Jump)

Name | Opponent Type | Difficulty | Task type | Opponent's Name | Reason for roll
Ripper | Another PC | Difficult | Reactionary/ Awareness | Narla |Heroic catch

Result:
Succeeded

Lands flatly on the soles of his feet, creating an impression in the ground which would look like it was had been made by a taller, heavier man before setting his bundle down on the ground besides him.

"This might well be the second time now that I have saved your life. Suppose you should tell me your name before it probably happens again for a third time."

[Storyteller]

==========AUTOMATED POST==========

Ripper attempted to race none, and was successful!

[Narla (DELETED 10434)]

Narla shut her eyes tight, preparing for that crash and shatter of her bones against the cool, welcoming concrete. She hoped for no pain but accepts the worst. ‘It will get worse before it gets better,’ someone faceless told her some time ago… now those same words echo in the swelling chaos within her head among the flicker of every moment that solidified her decision to step off the edge.

Then it happened. She felt her body slam into something solid, but it was far more forgiving that than the solid cement she expected to greet her. Her body becomes a temporary ragdoll to the abrupt change in direction. Narla sharply inhales her shock, her tightly shut eyes tore open, and the complete presence of befuddlement stretches itself over her face as she attempts to compose herself and fully comprehend the existence of the man holding her.

Her lungs clawed for the air she withheld from them since the moment she began her tilt over the side. Her eyes fling from his face, to their surroundings, then back. Something sluggishly churned in her chest, dragging a weight in its motions that bashed against the broken, but beating drum caught in its cage. Her head swam in small strokes, just enough to keep her steady. She swallows and shakily grabs her words, but they come out in a whisper. “Narla..” her eyes begin to well up with tears.
She failed again.