Pack Time [MM]

[Storyteller]

Title: Pack Time
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Characters: Galia, Clover

Galia must post first, outlining a story on the following theme (feel free to get creative):

Setting: A dwelling in a skyscraper rooftop
Backstory: The group were all attending the same event (some or all characters).
Occurance: A dark secret is revealed about [character 1]
Variable: The sun is about to rise.

Participants: 2
ARES: yes
Speed: slow
Chapter: no
Minimum Words Per Post: none
Maximum Words Per Post: none

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This thread was generated via the Roleplay Matchmaking System.

[Galia]

Galia was, really, not that fond of Harper Rocks. From the weird notes she'd found warning her not to leave, and the general fact that APPARENTLY it had vampires, and her black outs, NOTHING had been normal since she got here. She tried to live day to day as best she could. Living with the fact she found random crap that just didn't make sense. Weapons and items that she know she hadn't stolen. Even one time finding a wad of cash she knew she hadn't gotten or sorted. And the unexplained tattoos that she just didn't understand, usually just covering it up. She didn't have all that many friends, it was hard to do that with the way things were. There were a few, people she happened to meet that she hadn't tried to steal from. One of them was actually aware of what she did, mainly because they had done it too, but apparently stopped. At least, she said she had.

But they both agreed not to talk about it. She'd been invited by this friend, to the friends friends party. The dwelling was pretty well furnished. It had a kitchen, living room, dining room, bedroom of course, even two bathrooms. They'd set up a punch bowl and there was a few boxes of pizza set at different places in the kitchen where there was room.

Galia did her best to enjoy herself, she was a little ill at ease though. One of those...strange tattoos was visible if the right sleeve moved much because it wasn't as long as she'd originally thought. She didn't quite realize another was visible if she lifted both arms or leaned over, on her back. The tattoos had gotten her in trouble before. There were others on her back she noticed, that seemed to be where most of them were. A large pattern of them. And there were just...some people that had a weird response to seeing them. That they'd stay away from her. At first she thought it was just that they didn't like tattoos. But she felt...that there was something different about those people who did it.

She tried not to think about it. Just go about your life. As best you can at least. Unaware that it was due to Galia herself, the paladin side, that there was reason that some of those people, the vampires, had reason to fear. She wasn't as strong as many paladins. Nor as skilled. But it was enough that she was one of them that some of the weaker paladins could be disturbed. More so, she naturally seemed to make vampires near her make things somewhat more uneasy near them. She didn't realize she did it. It took no effort, it just happened. Another reason vampires had reason to avoid her. Whether Galia realized it or not, she was their enemy.

[Clover]

Harper Rock was a cesspool. Clover hated everything about it, while seeking familiarity in the streets, building relationships with its inhabitants. When Clo had gone to New York, she didn't think she'd ever go back; when she'd returned, she sought comfort in the shadow realm, once again thinking she'd never go back. And there she was, less than two weeks out of the shadow realm, already walking the streets. After encountering people she knew, people from the past, she'd come to accept that times were different, that she was different, and yet some parts of her remained the same. The urge to kill remained. The thirst remained. The paranoia, the jealousy, and the obsessive tendencies had eased. She didn't mean to kill that night, but a pretty blonde had caught her eye, and she'd never seen that shade of blue before, so she chose to introduce herself. One thing led to another, and the two sought refuge in the woman's pristine BMW in the parking lot of Hole in a Bottle, Clo's new favorite club. Clo sat in the passenger seat, waiting patiently for the woman to hike up her skirt before she straddled the blonde.

"Kiss me," the blonde purred, a hand pressed to the back of Clo's neck. Stacy. That was her name. Clover leaned in, burying a kiss to the woman's neck, then inhaling the scent of a mixture of the woman's regular scent, sweat, alcohol, and stale perfume. Clo nuzzled her nose there, then buried one hand in gorgeous waves of blonde hair.

Clo used her free hand to pull a knife from her right thigh, the blade concealed by her skirt. She ran the tip of the blade along Stacy's side and earned a giggle, the blonde obviously confusing the feel of a blade for Clo's nails. Stacy exhaled and Clo quickly slashed open Stacy's throat, blood pouring from the wound as the woman thrashed, hands fighting to cover the wound, while Clover kept her hands at her sides, pinning her down. Stacy choked on an inhale, body shuddering, struggling, and then she went still. Clover buried her face in the blonde's neck, licking at the blood still flowing. Her teeth turned to sharpened fangs and she tore at the throat, the blood smearing over her leather jacket, trailing down between them to Stacy's pretty, purple dress. When Clo had enough, she pulled back and wiped her sleeve over her mouth. Stacy had a bottle of water in one of the drink holders, so Clo splashed some onto her face and scrubbed at her skin. When she looked presentable, she opened the driver's side door and stepped out. The coat she'd stolen was ruined, so she took it off and tossed it back into the car. No one was around, so she hid her knife and straightened her high-waisted black skirt. Her white shirt didn't have any bloodstains, so she grinned to herself. She turned to leave, but something crunched under her foot. She'd stepped on Stacy's phone, which must have fallen from the car.

Someone had been texting Stacy about a party at a penthouse, and the person, Scott, had sent her the address three times, each time asking her where the hell she was. Lips pursed, Clo decided to check it out. The night was young, and she had nowhere to be. Her schedule was free and she felt like a party.

The building was nice, all glass and steel, with big windows. The penthouse was large, not that she expected anything less. She'd dropped Stacy's phone in a trashcan along her journey, so she scouted the penthouse with no distractions. She gravitated to a punchbowl that smelled like some kind of fruit punch. Clo filled a plastic cup and took a sip, pretending to enjoy the taste of coconut rum. She didn't feel like mingling, despite the fact that she had learned to mingle properly, so she spotted another loner and went in that direction.

"This is fun," Clo started, one corner of her lips upturned for a partial smile. "Why are you standing by yourself? Don't you like parties?" She waited for the woman to call her out on avoiding people, hoping that she could get a laugh, at least.

[Galia]

Galia wasn't really doing much at the moment, she had a plate with her with two pieces of pizza on it, and a cup of punch sitting on the plate she occasionally drank from. But she wasn't really doing much at the moment, afraid that the tattoos might attract attention she didn't really want. She was mostly trying to figure out what she was going to do, maybe people would notice, maybe not. Maybe nobody here actually was whoever freaked out about the tattoos. But if they were, what was she going to do?

However she wouldn't have to think forever, as she was approached by another woman. Asking about her reclusiveness. Galia chuckled uncertainly, "Uh, no uh. Just..." she paused trying to think of her excuse, "Don't quite have the energy to go out and actually start the talking myself"

Yeah, that sounds about right doesn't it? Hopefully she buys it? But even if she doesn't, what the heck is she going to do about it? She can't prove that's not what I'm doing. She doesn't even know me either so who's she to know any better. She thought trying to comfort herself. She wasn't quite sure why she was so stressed about this, she just was.

[Clover]

Clover smelled the pizza and looked down at the two slices. She'd heard of vampires tasting food, where she could only consume tasteless food that smelled particularly good. She toyed with the idea of grabbing herself a slice, but she ignored the possibility by taking a drink of the spiked punch, pretending for a moment that she could taste exactly what she smelled. She almost missed the woman talking. Clover tried for another smile and nodded at the words. She sounded as out of place as she looked, but Clover had no room for judgement when she felt out of place among a room filled with humans. Clo licked her lips, chasing a taste of punch that she still couldn't find.

"Well, I'm here to save the day," she joked. Clo thought she glimpsed something on the woman's right arm particularly the part of skin concealed by the right sleeve, the ink there and gone again. Clo had tattoos, so at the moment, she thought nothing of it. She hadn't had a good enough glimpse, and discussing tattoo meanings tended to be boring. "My name is Clover. Clo works just as well. So what's your name, Miss Antisocial?" She teased the woman then, choosing to appear as friendly as possible.

They'd likely never see one another again, something she was all too aware of, so she decided to be a normal person for a change. She'd fed, even though she didn't really need to. She'd left her armlet at home, choosing to enjoy the hunt again. The alcohol did nothing for her, so she didn't hesitate to polish off her drink and let out a little sigh. The conversations around them had escalated, most people chasing conversations to fill the evening. The party wasn't as exciting as she'd hoped. Maybe she'd expected a wild party, something like a frat party. Someone had the idea to turn the music on, so there was generic pop music which quickly shifted to jazz, followed by dance music. A few people decided to pair up and dance, making their own good time. There was something about the woman though, something that reminded Clo of the charged atmosphere just before a storm.

"This isn't what I expected when I thought of crashing."