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[Caligrace]

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Bjørn
The telepath’s experience with factions was short-lived and far from extensive. If anything, it was but a vague memory, one he seldom revisited now that he owned his own home. The last few times Bjørn had been to the Den, the place had been desolated. Between Elliot’s indefinite return to Australia and his wife’s disappearing act, the faction had… well, he wasn’t quite sure what had happened. All he knew was that he was eager to give it another go under Every’s authority. From what he’d gathered, this place—this cabin she’d informed him about—was one of the few places they’d be using for meetings. It was unclear whether she’d called a meeting or simply shared with him the address. Curious and happy to find out when he arrived, Bjørn made his way across town to the location in question. There he found himself alone, milling about the unfamiliar place with his hands in his pockets. An architect at heart, he took in the surrounds, gaze focused on the ceiling when the front door creaked open. He stilled without looking away from the overhead beams. The scent was unfamiliar and the realisation that his back was turned to the potential threat spiked his vitals. Reaching across his chest and under the leather jacket’s lapel, he slowly turned on his heel.


Caligrace
“It shouldn’t be this damned impossible to find a lodge, Caligrace,” she muttered beneath her breath, one slender hand raking through the mess of red curls that had fallen from her tie. The frayed band had given up the battle ten minutes into her leave, the hair too thick, too obnoxious to keep contained for too long. Now, it hung loose around her shoulders, nearly knotted from the wind that had picked up the moment she left her car. Now, twenty minutes later, she had walked the same path fifteen times, and still, the cabin was nowhere in sight. Dropping her golden gaze to the device in her hand, she brought up the message that had been sent, and her brow furrowed. Of course. Of course she had read it wrong. With a quick shake of her head, she took a few steps back and headed in the opposite direction, the door now in sight. In all honesty, she hadn’t a clue what she was doing here - only that Every had invited her to join her faction, and had sent a location for her to go to when she had time. When she pushed the door open, she hadn’t a clue what to expect on the other side, but the sight of a leather clad back wasn’t it.

Clearing her throat, she steadied her shaking hand, before uttering what she hoped was a confidant greeting. “Hey, there. Is this… Is this Every’s place?”


Bjørn
If a person could stutter with their whole body, then that was exactly was Bjørn did at the sight of her. His grip tightened on the weapon then slacked, hand dropping from inside his jacket. The scent was unfamiliar, but the face was not. Expression blank, he blinked at her a few times. No, the name was nowhere to be found, though he remembered the circumstance under which they’d met as clearly as if it’d been yesterday. Closing his mouth, he nodded curtly and hoped she wouldn’t remember him.

“Yeah. I mean I guess. It’s the address she shouted,” he shrugged, now fully facing her. Sniffling, he slid his hands into his jean’s front pockets and turned on his heel to give the place another look. “Dunno where the **** she is though,” he added, nose bunching up as the scent of coconut cut through the woodsy smell of the cabin. Summer had stepped in through the door.


Caligrace
For a moment, time seemed to stop. It wasn’t quite like in the romantic comedies she all but gorged herself on, but it had an effect. When the man turned, his profile becoming clearer, the memory struck her. Hunger, fear - abandonment. Not that she had blamed the man for leaving in the crowded pub with nothing more than a nod of his head - almost eerily similar to the nod he gave her now - because the circumstances had been less than ideal. Still, she couldn’t shake the quick twist in her gut, and yet, her lips pulled back into that charming smile she perfected well over the years. “I know you,” she spoke, her voice steadier now. “I can’t remember your name,” she lied (and she was a bad liar) with a tilt her head, “but I remember you just the same. You pulled quite the disappearing act.” There was no inflection in her tone, and it was clear by the mirth in her eyes that she hadn’t been offended. Working her fingers through the knots in her hair, she smoothed out the mess as she stepped further into the room, the sound of her heels echoing off the walls as she stepped closer to him - but she didn’t invade his space.

“That doesn’t surprise me. She sent me a message to come here when I had time, and I really had nothing else to do. I guess I should have asked if she planned to show up,” she admitted, her fingers slipping into the tight pocket of her jeans as she absently fumbled the case there.


Bjørn
Well, there went his anonymity. Not that he’d been clinging to it too tightly; he couldn’t in light of the current circumstance. If Every had told the redhead to come here, then the likelihood of her being part of the budding faction was high. Hands still in his pockets, he glanced back at her, gaze darting to the mess of fire atop her head. For someone who smelled like summer she sure as hell looked like autumn incarnate.

“Bjørn,” he offered without ceremony, glancing away towards the seating area over his shoulder. The wingback armchair was as good a place to claim as his own now that there were two of them. Moving towards the armchair, he dropped his hands from his pockets, motioning lazily towards the head of curls with his index finger. “My disappearing act is better than my memory, though.” He settled into the armchair, making it look smaller than it was given the sheer size of his body. “You are….?”


Caligrace
For a moment, her smile almost cracked. There was the smallest quiver, the mask threatening to slip as she studied his face for a second too long. Something about the man put her on edge, and just as she had been the last night, she found herself drawn to him. He was trouble - it was written in the very way he moved - but she couldn’t stop herself from allowing her gaze to roam every inch of his form until she once again sought his eyes. “Bjørn,” she repeated, his name rolling easily from her tongue. She hadn’t forgotten it, the night forever stained in her memory. Of course, it didn’t seem that it had been the same for him. When he turned from her, she allowed her shoulders to drop for just a moment, her fingers lifting to press to her temples.

Already, she could feel the emotions dancing across her skin, begging to have a name put to them. Gritting her teeth, she perfected that smile just as he settled into the chair, his muscular form taking up every inch as she stood in the center of the lodge, her eyes pained. “I’m disappointed you don’t remember,” she said drily, her hand tightening on that metal case in her pocket. After a moment, she finally took another step forward, her name slipping past her lips as she tore her gaze from him to drink in the cabin in an effort to block out his emotions.

“Caligrace.”


Bjørn
There were many facets to the long-legged telepath, some tiered and interlinked, and rarely on display. Years living in Harper Rock since his siring had necessitated a thicker skin than the one he’d inhabited as human. The bullet marks, broken bones, and severed limbs had all healed with time, but beneath the kevlar-like skin the scars remained. Caligrace represented no physical threat to him—he took in the length of her body studiously—but their mutual connection made her far greater a threat than a stranger would be. Their first meeting had been… unorthodox, and though he remembered it with a hint of embarrassment, he cared more about what her opinion was of him, and how that opinion might affect his relationship with Every.

“You been friends with Shortrib long?” he queried, loosely linking his finger over his lap, elbows draped over the arm rests. There was nothing about him but the intensity of his gaze that was menacing, and he had little control over the predatory sparkle that lived in them. “You here for the faction too?”


Caligrace
The room, she had to admit, was gorgeous. Her eyes travelled the walls until she could drink in the ceiling - but only for a second before she was moving on to the furniture. He hadn’t taken the only available chair, it seemed, but yet she couldn’t will her feet to move. She stood still in the centre of the room, her fingers still toying with that case as he emotions assaulted her. She told herself not to, she even tried to pull herself free from the tangled web, but she couldn’t. What had once been unknown was slowly beginning to take shape, the tethers gaining names.

Embarrassment was the first, and then there was worry, and beneath them - something else. Something she couldn’t quite name, something that left her on edge and caused her nail to pop open the lid of that case, the slender pill rolling easily into her waiting palm. Still, she kept her hand tucked in her pocket as she swallowed audibly, his voice causing her to jump, mask slipping momentarily as her eyes snapped to his. “Shortrib?” The nickname seemed to settle her, and her smile turned more real, more open and warm. Soon, she was laughing, the sound quiet and easy as she shook her rib. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends. She’s more like… family. My sire, Freyja, was adopted by another of hers. Nishaa, I think, but then she bailed, so Eve took her in - and by proxy, me.” With a slow shrug of her shoulders, she plucked at an invisible string on her form fitting t-shirt, all the while trying not to squirm beneath the intensity of his gaze.

Hot damn, this guy was gorgeous. And intimidating. And-- No, girl. He asked you a question.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I guess I am. Why do you ask? Do I not look the part?”


Bjørn
Bjørn might look more the part than she did, but it didn’t negate the fact that they were both predators in an unfamiliar place with their fair share of questions each. Or at least, he had quite a few. Freyja. The name struck a chord, much like fingers strumming across the chain of his DNA. The feeling—recognition—was fleeting, replaced by… well, he wasn’t too sure what to feel now. The question she asked in turn felt very much like a trap. Appearances could be deceiving, but that was a lesson he’d learnt long ago. The corners of his mouth dipped down as he half-shrugged. “I’unno. Not exactly a faction aficionado. Though if you’re toying with a weapon there then I guess you’d fit in? **** if I know.”

Propping his left elbow on the armchair, he leaned forward, chin setting on his knuckles. “What you got? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”


Caligrace
If she had thought of running, the time had passed. Oh, she doubted he would stop her if she made a move for the door, but when he leaned forward, his gaze zeroing in on her, she was trapped. His emotions still hammered her, and for a moment, her eyes closed. There was always that thought in the back of her mind, that if she couldn’t see them, then she couldn’t feel them. Every time, she tried it - and every time, she failed. Instead, his presence became stronger, and she had no choice but to lift her lids, golden gaze focused on his. Every move he made seemed predatory, and yet, she almost felt at ease. Her expression softening, she quirked a brow as she slowly pulled the small silver case from her pocket, the white pill still hidden in her palm. “Hate to disappoint you, handsome, but no weapons here. I’m willing to let you pat me down, though,” she teased, hand casually lifting to deliver the drug to her tongue.

With a quick swallow, she snapped the case closed and hid it once more in the confines of her jeans, her gaze never wavering from his. “It’s for a headache,” she replied easily. It was as close to the truth as she was willing to get as she laced her fingers and pulled her arms above her head, stretching her back out. She was still standing, her posture relaxing as her arms dropped to her sides. The drug was already beginning to take effect, her senses numbing. She hadn’t taken nearly enough to cloud her mind or judgment - not this time, but just enough to take the edge off. “So, do I get to see what you’re hiding?”


Bjørn
Bjørn didn’t know Caligrace—CG, he’d designate—enough to see through her lies, but it didn’t mean her act was a complete success. But even vampires weren’t immune to headaches (something he’d learned the hard way through trial and error over the years) and he wasn't going to poke at the charade. The stretch of her body was distraction enough, his gaze raking across her form as his pupils dilated. When he licked his lips, he became aware of his reaction to both her body and words. He reigned himself in by his straightening back and dropping his hand over the upholstered edge. Yeah, a headache. Okay. Whatever. Sure. What did he care?

Darting his tongue over his lower lip, he drew it into his mouth and sat up a little straighter. He pulled the lapels of his leather jacket aside to reveal two holstered guns on either side of his ribcage, the leather harness strapped tight over the plain Henley he wore beneath. It wasn’t likely she’d have a good view from where she stood, but she’d just have to come closer…

“You a power-based fighter I take it, unless you’re holding out on me.”


Caligrace
When he didn’t question her on the pill, she allowed her body to fully relax, her fingers tugging down the hem of her shirt that had raised slightly against her stomach. The entire time, her eyes remained on him, as if she couldn’t dare to look away. It was as though they were in a battle of some sort, something that she couldn’t quite put a name to. It was beginning to become a familiar theme with the enigma of a man seated before her - everything was just… unknown. Everything except the flare of attraction in his eyes. And the sweep of his tongue. It lasted for only a second, and then he was controlling himself so quickly, it made her doubt herself.

She had felt the flare of desire against her skin, but with the drug in her system, she wasn’t sure if it had been real. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder, she tried to shake the heat that coursed through her veins when he danced his tongue over his lip, his gaze refusing to waver from her. With a slight tremor through her muscles that she couldn’t hide, she reluctantly moved her attention to his hands when they pulled the jacket open, and she found herself stepping closer. She told herself it was to see what he was hiding more clearly, but even as she tried to convince her mind - her body betrayed her. Soon, she was in front of him, her small form bent just slightly as she studied the weapons he had put on display.

His voice, a quiet thunder through the room, distracted her after a moment and she managed a smile. “I can’t reveal all of my secrets, handsome, but I can tell you that until recently, I wasn’t much of a fighter at all. I took the less violent path, until some sword wielding human stabbed me through the heart and attacked my family. Something about bleeding out in the middle of the woods really messes with a girls head,” she muttered, unaware that her fingers had reached towards the gun on his left, her attention unwavering from the weapon.

[Bjorn]

Bjørn
The armchair and coffee table were generously spaced apart. His legs bowed out, one extending to its full length. The muted scrape of his heel against the floor went unnoticed as he watched her step into the space before him. His gaze raked along her form, this time drinking in the details he’d not looked at before. Allurist, he remembered, tracing the curve of her neck and the sinuous wave of her hair as it threatened to spill from behind her shoulder. She was leaning in, he realised, her spoken answer requiring some measure of focus to divert itself from her immediate presence. It was bizarre how listening to someone speak required greater effort than having the words transplanted directly into one’s head.

His gaze darted to her hand. The breath he took in to speak remained in his lungs, lips pressing together. It tasted of her, heavy on his tongue. For a brief moment he remembered the last time they’d been this close, his thirst souring the taste of her. It’d be so easy to lunge forward now as he had then. There was a part of him that wanted to. It was hard to tell whether it was lust or utter predation that fuelled his actions, but without a second thought he reached for her with lightning-quick reflexes. His body, relaxed and welcoming, closed in on her, hand on her wrist and feet sliding under hers to trip her up. How she fell was up to her, though his arms would catch her. It didn’t matter what position she ended up in, the sharp edge of his switchblade pressed lightly into her throat.

“Seems like you could use some training,” he whispered, his grip on her strong, though far from excessive.


Caligrace
In the recesses of her mind, she knew not to reach for a predator’s weapon. It had been ingrained from the moment she had woken as a vampire. It was foolish and dangerous, and still, her hand reached, her fingers itching to touch the cool steel of his gun. She couldn’t explain the phantom urge, and for a moment, she wondered if her body hoped for a brush against the strong muscles of his chest instead. His scent, which had been faint the moment she walked into the door, was tempting her the closer she got. The hint of warm honey and sandalwood wrapped around her - and she was thrown back in time, to the night they had met. Her back to the tree, his body leaning in, lips brushing along her throat --

Distracted as she was, she hadn’t noticed him move. His hand curled around her wrist before she could react, and she felt herself falling backwards. Without a thought, she moved her free hand behind her, prepared to catch herself before she connected with the unforgiving floor. The pain never came as her back collided into his arms, the steel bands seeming to wrap around her, even as the cold touch of the blade grazed her throat. In a matter of seconds, she had forgotten the gun against his side and the words that had been about to leave her lips. Instead, her wide and wary gaze snapped to his, her lips parting on a soft gasp as she dared herself to swallow. If her heart dared to beat, she knew it would be racing against her ribcage.

When he spoke, she remained still, her mind scrambling to remember everything she had been taught. She knew how to get out of this, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Instead, her tongue brushed across the swell of her painted lowed lip before finally finding her voice. “If you wanted me on my back, you’re going to have to try harder than this,” she taunted, voice a whisper. It wasn’t what she meant to say, but it seemed even in danger, she couldn’t bring herself to not push the man.

“Though, I think you may be right. I can’t imagine myself coming out unharmed if this situation happened with someone other than you.”


Bjørn
The discipline acquired over the years controlling one’s bloodlust was ubiquitous. A gorgeous redhead might trigger his body to react in ways it seldom did, but his mind remained in charge. Whenever he faltered, which he still did as a young vampire, he sought to rectify his situation as soon as he could. Caligrace’s proximity was intoxicating only if he allowed it to be. Exhaling steadily, he didn’t take another breath or utter another word until she’d found her footing and his back was pressed to the armchair. He wanted to stand, regain the advantage his height gave him, even if he’d just proven himself superior in reflexes than she had. He thought back to the pill she took, wondering if it kept her from her full potential. It wouldn’t be a fair fight until he found out, and anyway he was no measure for fighting prowess. Everything he’d learned had come from one person, and it was apparent to him that it’d be best if she oversaw Caligrace’s training.

“You’re wrong to think I wouldn’t harm you,” he pointed out, lowering his gaze to the switchblade. He didn’t explain himself further, instead snapping the blade shut and holding it out for her, “Keep it. Use it if you have to. I can get you a gun if you need one too.”

Attempting to relax, he glanced up at her, brow furrowed and expression unreadable. Turmoil was all she’d be able to sense from him now. “Have you heard of the gauntlet?”


Caligrace
Her mind still reeling, it took her a second to realize that he had righted her. Once she was certain her heels were secured to the floor, she forced her hands to move, the trembling appendages running subconsciously over the front of her shirt. It was barely wrinkled, and yet, she found herself nearly obsessing over every seam until it rested perfectly against the band of her jeans. He had spoken, and she had ignored him. Her attention remained on her hands until she was certain that he couldn’t read the myriad of emotions that danced in her odd colored eyes. His own turmoil beat against her, and even with the pill, she could feel every minute of it. She craved to put a name to what he was feeling, to delve deeper into his mind, into his soul, and figure out exactly what went on within him. There was so much there - so much he kept locked away, but she was only a stranger. A stranger, that apparently, he wanted to hurt.

“Perhaps I should have said kill,” she found herself whispering, and still, she didn’t look at him. “It might be foolish to believe you wouldn’t hurt me, but I refuse to believe that you would kill me.” No matter what he felt for her, she knew within her bones that he wouldn’t risk Every’s wrath, just to end her life. With a quick clearing of her throat, she finally forced herself to meet his gaze, though her smile was wiped from her face. To say that she was upset would have been a lie. She didn’t understand what emotion was twisting inside of her, but whatever it was simply knotted tighter when he handed her the switchblade. “You don’t have to,” she said, even as her fingers secured the weapon within their hold. “I have a gun at home. I don’t know how good it is…” Her words trailing off, she tried to focus when he spoke, but her mind still raced.

“The gauntlet? I… I’ve been there. That’s where I found the paladin, I think. He slit my throat,” she began, before realizing what had just happened a few seconds before. “But, I’ve never actually gone to any of the shows or anything. Why?”


Bjørn
Kill? No. He hadn’t killed anyone in… He killed things. He killed those that stayed dead. He knew about the shadow realm through his connection to Every, and understanding death’s temporal hold on a vampire was reason enough not to get on the wrong side of one. He’d done enough of that, unintentionally, as an unguided fledgling. No, he wouldn’t kill Caligrace unless it came down to a choice between her and Shortrib, or perhaps a merciful kill if the situation called for it. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. What he’d meant—well, if they’d not been in Every’s home he’d have not hesitated to pull the trigger. Hell, he might have fired a warning shot—purposely missed—but he’d not walked the path to killer without getting his hands dirty. Running a large hand through his curls, he began to feel agitated. Whether it was her fidgeting that had rubbed off on him, or the jarring juxtaposition of unresolved lust and unsatisfied hunt, there was something about this position that felt uncomfortable. He looked up at her, hands firmly pressed on the armrests.

“Pretty sure weapons will be my thing around here,” he commented, ignoring the mention of shows. What shows? Clearing his throat, Bjørn pressed his spine into the cushion and pushed both feet into the ground. “But I train there, usually with Every. There’s a spell on the place or something—keeps death at bay. In any case, I assume she’ll want us all fight-ready—I heard there were territories on the market—so maybe you should join up. We can uh, train.” He reached across his throat to scratch at his jaw. “This paladin… the same one from the forest?”


Caligrace
It was strange, standing there as she was, still between his knees. He wasn’t touching her. No, it seemed as if he was doing everything he could to ensure that not even his clothing brushed against hers. The knowledge - however true it was - had a tether on that knot releasing, and something akin to hurt tightened her throat. Or, perhaps it was shame. Whatever it was, she had to swallow it down. She had to focus. She hardly knew this man before her. There was absolutely no reason that she should be feeling as conflicted as she was. With a quick flick of her wrist, she tossed the switchblade into the air, her fingers catching it with ease before she slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. “If it doesn’t put you out, then thank you.” Her voice was stronger now, and as reluctant as she was to move from him, she found herself stepping back when she felt the first thrum of his agitation against her. Already, her fingers itched to dip back into her pocket, to pull out another pill so she could dull her mind.

It was the fact that it wasn’t just his emotions she wanted to hide from, but her own that stopped her.

When he pushed further into the chair, she turned her gaze away, instead choosing to focus on a painting across the room. It did nothing to minimize his presence in the room, but she had to try. She didn’t have a choice. “Oh. You train there? I thought it was something akin to the fighting rings you read about. I wasn’t aware that it was something we could use. How do I join?” Her voice wavered for a moment, and her nails dug into the skin of her palms as she fought the wave of emotion that crashed into her. For whatever reason, she found herself looking at him again, her head tilting as she studied his movements. “Yeah. They stalked us for a while, kept attacking us until one day they just...stopped. It was the first time I ever came close to dying since my turning.”


Bjørn
There’d been one paladin Bjørn’d crossed paths with a while back. An ungodly woman named Faith who’d been none too quick to retract after hitting him instead of his decoy. Apparently, she took pleasure in taking his mirror images down, though the zap of electricity each gave her were no match for the retaliatory wound he’d left her with. It had annoyed him at the time to learn the identity of his decoy-killer, but he had moved on to bigger game. Whether or not she hunted down the rest of his decoys was no longer his concern, his attention now focused on things that made of her a memory speck easily flicked to the back of his mind.

The telepath remembered something about a paladin from Every, but he didn’t recall her mentioning other victims. It seemed irrelevant to ask however, though it was clear that Caligrace found herself in far worst situations than he did and lacked the ability to protect herself as well as circumstance demanded from her.

“My encounters with paladins have been far and few between”—he didn’t understand how they picked their targets—“and I’ve yet to… die.”—it was odd saying that conditionally—“but if I do I’d rather have put up the best fight I can before I go. Not that it’s permanent, but…” he jutted his chin out, as if it’d explain what he meant. Truth was, he likely didn’t know himself. “Did she tell you anything about this faction?”


Caligrace
As she spoke of the paladin, she tried to recall the minute details that would bring their attacker to life. The color of their hair, the spark of cold rage in their eyes - but try as she might, she couldn’t quite summon the entire picture back to her memory. The pain of the battle had made it seem as though it had lasted for months, when in reality, it had been over in a matter of seconds. She still didn’t know what had possessed the human to become so cruel as to attack someone as helpless as her sire’s girlfriend. Sence never rose her voice, let alone a weapon, and yet it had happened. It was something that stayed with her, something that made her…afraid. Of course, she wouldn’t admit that fear, even now. She swallowed it down, pushed it into the darkest parts of her soul and drew strength from it. What had happened that night…

It would never happen again.

It took her a moment to realize she had stepped closer to him again, as if what little of the memory she had led her to need comfort. It would have been easy to slide into his lap and wrap her arm around his neck, but she wasn’t that same girl he had met all that time ago. At least, not entirely. Instead of giving into the craving, she sidestepped him to pull a chair forward, her slender body curling into it with ease as he spoke. “She - or he - honestly, I can’t remember that detail, as odd as that is - was my only true encounter with one. They chose to attack someone innocent, and I guess that was my first night I realized that my life really had changed.” Her words were quiet, and she realized she was thankful when he chose to change the subject. Grabbing onto the question with all of her might, she smiled.

“No, not really. Just that it was something she was building and she wanted me to be a part of. I thought that’s what I was meeting her here for, but I wonder if she just didn’t want me out of the penthouse for a while. Did she mention anything to you?"


Bjørn
Bjørn remembered now what it was about Caligrace that threw him off. The peculiar blend of flirtatious and insecure made of her a queer person to be around—the vibe she gave difficult to read. While he lacked Elliot’s ability to read emotional auras and Every’s ability to retain all detail, he needed neither skill to pick up on the queer frequency at which she vibrated. He tracked her movement as she sat down, eyebrow arching up at her answer.

Shaking his head at her question, Bjørn furrowed his brow. His icy gaze dropped to CG’s knees and then the floor by her feet before settling on the corner of the coffee table. He looked momentarily unfocused, his voice reaching into the ether as he yanked on the string that tethered him to Every. [What’s taking you so long?] Blinking, he continued to stare—unfocused—at the table. “Not in detail. Something about assuming responsibility and territories being up for grabs”—he shook his head as if his brain was a sketch & etch, and glanced back up at CG—“but I don’t know what the **** that means.”

[Every]

Every
She had been running a bit later than she preferred, something that Every had been keenly aware of as she left the room she'd taken up in the lodge. Winter was on the way and she wanted to make sure another reopening season could be more beneficial than not. Between that and the idea of a faction itself, well, at least she remembered before the familiar voice headed her way. [I'm heading that way now.] The sleeves of her sweater were tugged lower down over her arms, her hazel eyes narrowing as she tried to think of the best way that she could describe the plans she had made, if she could explain it three times over to everyone she wanted in, first. Jayden hadn't been a concern in the least. Why the man trusted her so easily, Every would never be able to understand, especially when she was vague.

Taking a shortcut down the hall, she moved past a few of the staff members that she had gotten to know in the months of the ski lodge being created. The shadow turned the corner just in time to hear the edge of assuming responsibility. “If you’re talking about Superstite, that’s correct.” The word left her lips easily. Survivor, it meant. If one word could describe her family and friends, too, that was the term that worked best. “Have you two met?” The question was asked as she stopped behind one of the newer chairs that Jayden had put out, her hands resting on the back of it. The nails of one hand drummed lightly against the wood, a smirk playing across her lips.


Caligrace
His silence filling the space between them, she allowed herself to relax back into the chair, her fingers drifting across her thigh in a slow dance. There was something about the vampire at her side that through her off her game, his presence clouding her mind as she tried - and failed - to unravel his secrets. She could feel him within her, his emotions intertwining with her own, but they were still as unknown to her as they were the moment she had stepped through the door. She thought about leaning forward, her fingers itching to reach for him again, and she told herself that it was simply to see if the physical connection would allow her to untangle the inner-workings of his mind, but even she couldn’t continue to lie to herself.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she casually tucked her hands beneath her thighs as his attention seemed to withdraw from her, the table now being what held his interest. She said nothing as he continued to sit in silence, until finally, he was looking at her again. “Assuming responsibility,” she repeated slowly, the connection instantly made in her. For a moment, her jaw tightened, but then she was chuckling with another shake of her head. “I don’t, either, but whatever she wants, I’m game. I can always use a little adventure,” she winked, before the stunning beauty that was her adopted grandsire caught her attention.

Her smile transformed then, growing warmer - brighter - as she unfolded herself from her chair to press a quick kiss to the newcomer’s cheek. At her question, she allowed her amber gaze to dance between the two before her full lips curved into a perfected smirk. “Mm, you could say that. How are you, Shadowcat? I’ve missed you.”


Bjørn
Bjørn was happy to remain as he was. Some people might straighten at the sight of someone they respected, but his relationship with Every was far more casual than that. In fact, his shoulders relaxed, legs bowing out once more as the allurist walked past.

From where he sat, he watched the two women without offering more than an acknowledging nod at his best friend. He mirrored CG’s smirk with a subtler quip of his lips, then glanced between them as they interacted. When he did interject, it was with an arched brow and smug expression. “Shadowcat?”


Every
The little family that Every had created had diminished sometime over the years, but another one of adopted connections had developed. There were no replacements, no preferences. It was something she liked, really, especially after Naomi had returned to Japan, and the Russians were off doing their own thing. With Nishaa's disappearance, it had hit her harder than she liked to admit - her headache had been her first successful sire/childe relationship. So, with Freyja and Caligrace's reappearance, it had been second nature to reclaim as it was. She felt responsible for them.

"I've been alright, working for the most part." Every gestured to the lodge around her. "Season is coming up, so." The woman explained before she pressed a kiss to her cheek in return. "Are you doing well, Cali? No trouble settling back in, I hope?" There was a slight narrowing of her eyes, looking her over before she turned her attention to Bjørn as she heard the question. "I will end you, Poodle." Despite the words, there was no malice in her tone as she smirked at the male. "And you, how are you?"


Caligrace
Guilt churned in her stomach as the woman’s eyes narrowed, and as though she could see through her clothing to the tin that rested in her pocket, Caligrace found herself dipping her fingers back inside to curl her fingers protectively around it. “I’ve been good, beautiful,” she said, her voice even and her eyes warm. It wasn’t a lie - she had settled back in just fine. The brunette didn’t need to know about the self-medicated help, though.

“There was a little trouble at Myth, but nothing Fate and I couldn’t handle with a little...persuasion.” With another of her winks, she bit into the corner of her lip when Bjørn voiced his question, response primed on her tongue - before she heard Every. “Wait. Poodle?” The question was voiced on a laugh, amusement brightening her eyes.


Bjørn
…and he’d walked right into that one. Then again, he cared little for the nickname to be shared amongst to-be close company. It’s who used it that might set his nerves on edge. Shrugging in response to both of them, he propped his ankle atop his opposite leg and leaned forward. “The usual, keeping busy… Gotta drop by Elliot’s though, so...”

A mess of limbs, he perched forward with a schooled expression, officially part of the conversation. “..you want to tell us more about this Super Kite thing?”


Every
There was a nod of her head. She understood. "His vampire creature... whatever, has been going around." Every explained, "Nearly hit me the other day." It was an odd thing to say, really, her mind still up in odds with the cure and the potential it had to influence the city. She didn't know Elliot Lancaster very well - she'd hunted Robert Pratt with Pi, but that was really the extent of it other than the fact he didn't want anything to do with it. As Bjørn mentioned the faction, although, her eyebrow twitched briefly, she said, "Right. Yes."

Carefully, she made her way around the chair and sat down. "So, with the rift expanding and my not-so-casual removal from Tytonidae has left me with time on my hands." She paused, thinking of the best way to describe it. "Superstite, or survival," The translation was always on her mind, "would be my way of trying to do what I feel is needed to make amends for the lives that were damaged during the rift expansion."


Caligrace
While she hadn’t been affected by the cured vampire, she had known a few that were - the woman at her side, included. To hear about it left her on edge, and she found herself subtly checking over her shoulder, even as she moved to reclaim her seat next to Bjørn. Keeping herself on the edge, she rested against the arm and crossed her legs, heel tapping lazily against the bottom of the chair. Her attention briefly diverted from the pair, she scanned the room - finally taking in every shadow, every corner, every piece of paper until it was burned into her memory. Only then, did she turn back to Every, her brow raised as she spoke.

“That’s commendable,” she smiled, her hand moving to shake her hair out until it fell messily over her shoulder. “What, exactly, would we be doing? You know I’m willing to help in any way I can, though I’m not sure what I can provide.”


Bjørn
“Yeah she’s a **** fighter,” he blurted out, comically twisting his head and rotating his shoulders to look at her, hoping to force her to meet his amused stare. Pulling his gaze away and straightening, he looked back at Every, jutting his chin out as he asked. “You know me though, I’m down to kill **** or whatnot”—a burst of Norwegian accent twisted the last two words, surprising even himself as it often did—“but providing therapy to someone because their granny rose back up hungry for brains ain’t on my repertoire. So what do you mean amends? We having a bake sale or something?”


Every
She had a lot of ideas. A binder, really, full of them that she called her 'chalkboard of ****.' One of those days, Every would actually reinvest in one. Perhaps when she redecorated the cabin as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Well, you won't have to fight if you don't wish to. If you do, I'm willing to train." A shrug of her shoulder showed that she didn't have any hard feelings if someone didn't want to. Jayden had agreed to his role. "I know I want to at least make sure those idiots in the NADUMA Unit don't blow up **** in territories that are up for grabs. River Rock has the ports, so might as well try to get that one." She scratched her jaw idly, "More so just taking down the ghouls that crawl out of the shadow realm. Keeping an eye out for Theodosia, et cetera. There's more to do than physical stuff. We need socializing, trying to figure out if there's pattern in the spirits taking over the dead."


Caligrace
“Excuse you,” she began, her gaze snapping from Every to the man at her side. Taking note of the amusement in his eyes, she relaxed with a grin. “You just caught me by surprise, but I’m more than willing for a round two.” Allowing her sentence to trail off, she listened to him speak, though her attention had reverted back to the brunette. “I want to fight.” The words came out quicker than she intended, and her eyes widened before she uttered something in French. “I mean, I’ll need training. I don’t think I’m as bad as Mister Tall, Dark and Deadly thinks I am, but I catch on quick.” Oh, god. Why was she still talking? There wasn’t a violent bone in her body - at least, she hadn’t thought there was. Now… Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Dancing her tongue along her lower lip, she twisted the bracer she wore, the power contained within it keeping her hunger at bay. “I can help with the socializing, too. We can use Myth for whatever events fit the atmosphere. You just tell me what you need, girl, and I’ve got you. Though, I wouldn’t mind meeting Theodosia myself. The questions I have for her…”

[Caligrace]

Bjørn
Bjørn bit back his guffaw and it sounded a lot like indigestion. Socialising? Tall Dark Deadly? Leaning back into the chair, he dropped his hands onto his lap and considered what both women had said. The propped foot swung back and forth, his inability to keep utterly still unless hunting or entirely immersed in thought beginning to seep through. Despite being a part of Canidae all this time, he’d never seen how things worked behind the scenes. If anything he’d seen just how things fell apart—not just the faction, but Elliot’s marriage and, to an extent, Elliot himself.

His expression hardened as he sunk into thought—foot stilling. “So what am I here for?” If this was about socialising and hunting down an ancient vampire who didn’t want to be found, there was little he had to offer past keeping an eye out for the other members of Deanimation Unit—NADUMA, as Every had called it.


Every
"Oi, what did I miss?" She frowned, looking between the two. Every's gaze flickered between Bjørn and Caligrace questionably. [If you two have been playing cat and mouse, and you haven't told me...] Her thoughts bordered the connection shared with the male, her words more amused than anything, "I don't think any of us have heard from her." The woman shrugged a shoulder before her gaze shifted to the male, a frown playing across her lips. "Because you and I are family, and I also know you have more than just your looks going for you. It could be something to do rather than just sit at your bench all day."


Caligrace
Her fingers still toying with the bracelet, she tried to keep the emotions at bay. The medicine had dulled her senses - but still, she could feel Every’s beginning to creep along her skin. She hadn’t needed to feel the tether of curiosity - it had been voiced - but the others… god. They were twisting and dancing; Bjørn’s unknown, Every’s… different. More subtle. Without thinking, she reached for her pocket, her fingers twisting into the tight confines for her pill case, before stopping just short of popping it open. She could fool the man - at least, she hoped she could - but she couldn’t fool the brunette across from her. Keeping the case closed, she simply curled her fingers around it as she shifted uncomfortably, legs moving to tuck beneath her.

With the question between them, she glanced towards Bjørn - before shaking her head. “He was just testing me,” she grinned, unsure of how much the man wanted the other to know. Or how much Every had picked up on the situation - especially from her side. Lifting her free hand, she placed it on her arm, the nails biting into the skin as she picked up on another wave of unknown emotion. Instead of speaking this time, she chose to listen, her brow quirking as Every spoke.


Bjørn
Bjørn noticed. He didn’t say anything, but he noticed. Gaze skimming across her knees, the table, and eventually up to Every’s gaze, he decided it’s none of his business. The smile he flashed at Caligrace’s explanation didn’t quiet reach his eyes and was too quick to express any particular sentiment.

“Well we can’t all go vacationing in the realm on a quarterly basis,” he retorted, the smile creeping up his face grinch-like and reaching his eyes. “But that doesn’t answer my question really, Every. I can keep an eye on the NADUMA, hang around River Rock, but… if you want to stake a claim on it, why not ask Elliot’s to back ? He’s got vested interest there.” Not that Bjørn knew whether that was going well in light of current events, but they could use someone with experience leading, someone trustworthy. That said, he had no clue whether the Australian would agree. “Do you want me to ask?”


Every
["Deep breaths, Cali. Don't allow it to overload you."] Every spoke into the red heads mind as she noticed the sudden unease. It was one of the few things that she'd picked up on upon first meeting the women that Nishaa had adopted - emotions could overload. It was easier said than done, she knew from experience. Even as a shadow, certain things could send her into a spiral, but she'd since beaten it. A good thing, she supposed, after going into the throne room.

"Well, for one, aside from the fact his shade has a tendency to miss me, and the man himself is a pacifist, I don't know much about him." She frowned, but she also trusted Bjørn's judgement, "If he'd be interested, I won't oppose it." Every gave a shrug of her shoulder. "But - River Rock was controlled by Tytonidae previously. The sirens took it over. I don't want it to just be my faction. I can't tell you why you would do it for yourself, if that makes any sense."


Caligrace
The voice that filtered through her mind was as familiar as her own, and she blew the woman a kiss before untangling her legs from beneath her. Now allowing the power to take control was easier said than done - but she had been in worse situations than this. Raking her fingers through her hair, she began to toy with the curls, absently braiding them together as her attention bounced between the mysterious man at her side and the woman she called family.

She knew of the man they spoke, but she didn’t know him personally. Unable to offer anything to that topic, she began to unwind the braids she’d just done, before dropping her hand to the arm of the chair to tap her nails against the fabric. Her mind was running wild for the bits of information she was getting, each word filed away into its own folder. It was when Eve mentioned Tytonidae that she actually made a sound, her nose wrinkling for a moment before she shook her head. She had nothing of note to include at the moment - and she was fine with fading into the background and allowing the two to talk until she did.


Bjørn
“No, I get it,” he quipped without heat. He glanced at Caligrace but didn’t address her, gaze returning to Every. It occurred to him that he’d never interacted with her other than in their thralls’ presence. It was unnatural for him to ease into it as he usually would. Prone to sensory overload, always on the look out, the fidgeting to his side was a distraction he would do without. He didn’t voice it.

Instead of allowing himself to become agitated, Bjørn got to his feet and fished his phone from his back pocket. Walking closer towards Every, he pulled up the maps application and set his phone on the table between them. Using index and thumb to zoom in on Harper Rock, he dropped to his haunches with a small bounce. “Where does the territory end here?” he motioned in a half-moon across the southeast edge of River Rock. He knew everything that lay to the left—QZ, Wickbridge, Swandsdale, Redwood, Newborough, Coastside. The other side of River Rock was one he ventured little into.


Every
She gave a nod of her head. The brunette leaned forward again, her hazel eyes looking over the map. Every had the territories memorized, their boundaries mapped out in her mind already. She reached forward to use her fingernail so the map wouldn't fall out, tracing the outline of River Rock. "I've got one back in the office, but here." She started, her hair falling over her shoulder. "It's not a large amount of territory, but it's at least sufficient enough to take over. Admittedly, telling Ayuka and her spidery friends to **** off would also be nice after they threw us under the bus." Even if the rift was in fact their fault, but still.


Caligrace
When the man stood, she stilled, her body falling back into the cushion as she watched them. They were better at this - they knew far more than she did, and she bit down on her lip. “Ayuka - she was the woman at the ball?” She didn’t remember much from that night - the aggression and unease having made her zone out than actually pay attention - but she could remember the stir about the siren female. “It’s not the size that matters, but what we do with it, at any rate.”


Bjørn
Bjørn gave a grand zero **** about names. There were just so many of them, and so often absolutely ******* mental. Whatever registry many vampires were dipping into for their ‘new names’, it had to be based on some godawful culmination of every fantasy book written—including the self-published smut ones. Ayuka was a name he’d heard, from Every—he heard most things from her these days. He’d seen jorogumos about in the city, trying their siren song on unsuspecting dupes, luring people in like creepy ghosts in those Japanese horror films he only partially cared for. He’d seen them here and there, and he’d not once hesitated to put them down. Spiders were just gross… Like shrimp, too many icky little legs. Adding boobs just make it a whole new level of weird.

“Huh,” he sounded out. There were a handful of warehouses and offices in that area. He would have to spend a little more time around there, checking it out. The beauty of his job was that much of it could be completed from the comfort of his own head, while the physical aspect of it could be cut down to a few hours a week. Elliot had given him plenty of freedom, and Bjørn, even during Elliot’s absence, hadn’t slipped up and threatened the trust instilled in him. “I’ll get a few more patrols in there, but it’s not the busiest of places… As long as we don’t impose a tax to not jump people,”—oh the shade—“I don’t see why anyone would **** around for it.”


Every
"She was, yes. Human resources for the Sirens." Every replied, a frown crossing her lips. She hadn't minded the woman at the ball until she'd blamed the vampires for everything. Had it not for them searching for the keys in the first place, they wouldn't have even remotely considered the possibility of Theodosia down in the throne room. Her lips twitched soft at Caligrace's comment, a wink following her smirk before she studied the map. "Eh, there's some minor income that comes with the property." She said, offhandedly. Money didn't mean much to a woman that spent five years making money as an acquisitionist, but she knew she did well enough either way. "I didn't approve of that when it was a thing." She admitted, neither had Helena. There had been a lot of stuff she hadn't approved of, honestly, in the end. The fact both Micah and Velveteen both supported the creatures that wanted to kill them all, really, had also been one of the main reasons Every wasn't heartbroken about getting the boot out of a place she called her home. "Ty won't bother us. Sirens and gangsters, I can see it but they'll be easy enough to taken them down."


Caligrace
“What a help she was,” she muttered under her breath, her thoughts drifting to the sirens. There were very few beasts she went out of her way to avoid here - but the spider creatures were one. Picking at a thread on the chair, she grinned at Eve, before shaking her head. “I’m glad. I’m not too fond of that idea, either. We’re not thugs,” she chuckled, her voice back to being relaxed. The medicine had already come and gone in her system, and her eyes lacked the dullness - and instead, were focused, intent, as she watched the pair across from her. “Is there anything you’d like for me to do, shadowcat?”

[Bjorn]

Every
"Eh, I'm a thug. However, I also believe it's easier to steal money out of pockets rather than threaten their lives. Less effort, really." The woman also knew that she was better at taking large portions when someone wasn't looking rather than shake someone down. As she was asked the question, Every shifted her nose slightly in consideration. "Right now... I would just do what you need to. Practice? We can always meet up with Lea and I'll drag Jayden." She rubbed the back of her neck.


Bjørn
Bjørn’s gaze flickered to Caligrace and widened as it slid towards Every.

[ Damn right. ] He voiced mentally at Every’s affirmation— they were both thugs, or at least cut from the same fabric. The redhead to his left was next level… sequins or something. (Not that he’d begun streaming Project Runway in the background while working or anything. Robbie had simply left it on one day and now he wanted to know who was going to win, okay? They all couldn’t sew for **** as far as he was concerned. Which he wasn’t— at all. Concerned or interested.)

“Could use the estate,” he offered, “Some measure of privacy at least… Move it to the gauntlet once guns and powers come into play…” He glanced back at Caligrace, “I mean, the foundations gotta be laid down first. Like… from scratch.” At the last word he raised his eyebrows a little, glancing towards Every as though asking ‘did you even think this through?’


Caligrace
“Not in the sense that I’m talking, you aren’t.”

There was a touch of -- something -- to her tone, wariness, almost, as her mind flashed back to the night behind her club. The blood on her hands, the scent of whiskey and cigarettes - and, she quickly pushed it aside, her smile never faltering, even when Bjørn turned to look at her. A quirk of her brow was the only reaction she gave him, her fingers still plucking at a frayed thread. It wasn’t until Every mentioned Jayden’s name that her features shifted, her smile warming. While they had only had a handful of interactions, the friendship she felt for the him had grown rapidly. There was something so sweet and calming about him that she adored.

“Jayden? Yes, do. I would love to see him again,” she chuckled, before the sound died on an exasperated sigh. The odd golden hue of her eyes darkened then, the amber sparking as she narrowed her gaze - though with amusement - on Bjørn. “I’m not that bad, you know,” she muttered, though her lips quirked with another smile. “I can admit I do need training, however. I’ll put in the work as long as someone is willing to help me out.”


Every
The woman gave Bjørn a wink in acknowledgement. She knew her vices and she knew the trouble she'd caused in the past, as well as the trouble she got herself into regularly. Never did Every claim to be one of the nice girls, someone who followed the rules. For the most part, really, the woman had always beat to her own drum. "Training is pretty simple, we can always work on creatures first before beating the **** out of each other." The woman explained, crossing her legs underneath herself, "As long as you can shoot at a target and not at me, I don't mind. One of my childer can't even hit the broadside of a barn." She muttered under her breath.

As the two spoke, Every dug through her pockets for her phone. She had already started that, at least for the most part. Although it had become something that she knew she wanted absolutely after the events in the throne room, she had been thinking on it for a couple of years. The device was found in her breast pocket of the flannel shirt she'd left open and then she pulled up her email. After a moment, she held it out to the telepath. "I'll send you both copies later, but this is the gist of it. I don't care for rules outside of - don't be a dumbass, honestly. I have several locations around the city we can use, but I have a cabin not too far from here I prefer to sit in."


Bjørn
“I’ll do it,” he offered with a shrug. The shift of his shoulders betrayed the eagerness, but Caligrace was nice to look at and he needed a project. Sitting at his bench all day—night, but technical hangup—as Every said only satisfied him so much after crafting for months on end uninterrupted. Variety was the spice of life—or life after death, take your pick—and he was in dire need of it. It was why talk of the faction had drawn him out, despite his general anxiety surrounding new people.

And at least training the redhead would benefit the whole… He’d get to inject some good into the world, maybe manage to offset some of the thuggish things he did. Bjørn also disagreed with Every about simplicity. He leaned forward and reached for the phone. He tilted the screen so that Caligrace too could read as he slowly scrolled upwards. “We can use my places too”—he looked up, hand dropping to his knee, phone secure in the palm of his hand—“You think they’re going to come after all of us ‘cuz of Theododo?” Bjørn sought Every’s gaze, his meaning clear. After all, he’d been there when she’d returned from the Shadow Realm.


Caligrace
With a quirk of her brow, she glanced at Bjørn when he spoke, her smile warm. “Thanks, handsome,” she replied, her fingers twisting absently in her lap. Truth be told, she hadn’t expected him to want to take on the mess that was her lack of fighting skills, but she wasn’t going to complain. Not at all, she mused to herself, before leaning forward when he tilted the screen.

She shifted closer, her gaze locked on the screen as he scrolled through it. By the time he had finished, the device resting on his knee, she had managed to memorize most of what she’d been able to read. Straightening, she leaned against the arm of her chair, head tilting. “I won’t be a dumbass,” she promised, her voice light, despite the strain around her eyes when Bjørn spoke of the ancient that the others had endured. She’d heard the stories of that night, remembered the state that her sire had returned in, and she bit down on her lip as she waited for the answer.


Every
Every was quiet for a few moments as she considered the possibility of it. She thought about the hunters, the humans, the creatures in the city that hated vampires... that, that was a more specific reality that she knew they could face. "There's always been a chance of being attacked in this city even before Theodosia. I was here when the footsoldiers came, and when the masquerade fell." Every said, wrinkling her nose, "Whatever comes after the throne room will be just another mark that we need to fight, but I think the sirens are a bigger threat."

The woman stood up, stretching her arms briefly above her head. Her mind drifted to the conversation that she and Lea had with Velveteen and Micah. Before she could let herself get stuck into it, the shadow said, "I was going to offer an invitation to Amalea, as well. Given, well, the predicament we were in. But, she's also a good friend of mine. I think you both would like her." A frown played across her lips as she looked to Caligrace, "I can't even promise that of myself. But, I will train you, Cali." She then pointed her thumb towards Bjørn, "I taught him some stuff and he can beat me fair and square." She said, rather pleased.


Bjørn
“Oof, the condescension. So hurtful,”—he retorted, placing a hand over his chest—“I thought I told you to keep dirty talk strictly to raids.” A smile crept onto his face, his hand dropping.

Bjørn would get a better look at the document once she’d emailed it through, not used to ‘Every’ and ‘formality’ inhabiting the same space in his brain. He held out her phone between them, the screen now black. (As opposed to anyone over the age of forty, he wasn’t inclined to swipe through the mobile without permission.) Once his hand was freed, he held onto the armrests and pushed himself out the chair. It wasn’t the most uncomfortable armchair, but he wasn’t inclined to sit around if this was over.

“I’m gonna go round to work,” he announced. “I’ll talk to Elliot at some point,” he added, aware that it wasn’t a priority. There were only three out of the supposed five members and there was no point in bringing any more until things were defined more clearly. His gaze settled on Caligrace for a brief moment, assessing her in a way that made his eyes glaze over ever so slightly. He started speaking before looking away. “Can you send everyone’s number through in the email?”—he turned towards Every—“Might be better than to rely on telepathy alone.” That, and Caligrace wasn’t capable of it.


Caligrace
The teasing side of Bjørn - while unexpected - was charming, and she fought a smile as he interacted with the other, her gaze bouncing between the two before focusing on Every. When the woman frowned at her, she simply grinned, shoulder lifting in a shrug. “I didn’t say I promised, shadowcat,” she reminded, a spark of mischief in her eyes before she stood. She was smaller than the other two, and with them standing at her side, she wrinkled her nose. Working her teeth against her lower lip, she took a moment to process everything that the woman had said before - the attacks, Theodosia, footsoldiers. It was like she was walking down a path that made no sense to her - a path of violence, family, and purpose - but it still scared her.

Catching Bjørn out of the corner of her eye, she frowned when she caught him staring at her, but she said nothing - even when she felt something unfamiliar within her mind. “That’d be great,” she agreed, watching him for a moment more before turning to smile at Every. “I need to get to Myth, soon. They’re having a frat thing tonight, and I’m nowhere near prepared to have my world shook up by eighty plus drunken idiots. It doesn’t help that I have to waitress because Angela called out sick, again, either.” There was a touch of uneasiness to her voice - but she still smiled, her hands slipping into her jean pockets before she pressed a quick kiss to her Eve’s cheek.

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