Her Bleeding Eyes (Shan, Reanna & cameo by Elijah )

[Pi dArtois]

Jesus Christ on a stick Pi thought. A man. It was like a bad joke. Another actor in their little vampire farce. Although, Pi wasn’t sure he was a vampire at all, (seeing as he didn’t have a ‘I am a vampire sticker’ slapped on his forehead). But he spoke French which was better. Except, she wondered why that was even relevant at all. The thought took flight and wandered off before she could grasp it and wrestle it to make sense.

What was she thinking again? Yeah, that’s what they were, a bad joke. There was a Frenchman, a robot (that’s for the ipad speaking one), another woman (of unknown origin) and a long haired hot guy all on a street. Hold on, she thought again, her brow scrunching in concentration. That didn’t sound like a joke at all. That sounded like a show down at the OK Corral. No worse than that, it sounded like a bad movie. A really bad movie and she was the one in the movie who was found on the street by a gang of thugs in a precarious position for her life.

She’d been here before, experienced it recently with that woman… Charlie? Lotty? God, Pi couldn’t remember the details but she did remember thinking that the other had looked like a victim, acted like a victim and probably had it tattooed on her forehead. With that thought Pi reached a hand up to her own, rubbing her fingers between her scrunched eyebrows.

It didn’t surprise Pi when she was hefted up and carried awkwardly in a bridal carry. Even she knew she was in no state to walk.

If Pi was more with it she’d have ‘neited’ this plan too because she could see how many ways this could all go very pear shaped. There was the angry sounding, okay they all sounded angry, except the guy with long hair. That one sounded helpful, if a little bemused at the current circumstances. Helpful all the same. No, the sense of pending irritation came from the woman whose arms were wrapped around Pi’s shoulders and pillowed under her ***.

No, if Pi was more with it, she’d have kicked out her legs in a scissor lashing movement, twisted herself out of the hold, grabbed the ‘helpful’ woman’s face and wrenched herself free. The fact she slumped instead, creating a rather ungainly deadweight, only highlighted just how out of it the woman was. Which was pretty out of it.

Her eyes wanted to close again and she was certain if she could just take a damn nap then she could wake up in bed, with the covers twisted around her waist and her arm trapped under the head of the man who had gone to sleep sprawled all over her. In fact, that sounded pretty good, she thought, sleep that is. It sounded like heaven.

Gone would be this hot summer street and these strange tense faces or the helpful man with long hair. Gone would be the uncertainty of how she’d get home (or even in which direction home was from where she had found herself). Slitting her eyes open she stared at the man, her smile small, barely seen, but there all the same. He was the only one on the street that seemed inclined to be… helpful so she directed her words at him, even as her head flopped to the shoulder of the strange woman.

“Merci.” Lifting her hand (not the one trapped between her body and that of the woman who held her) and waved in the direction of the two women. “Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît dire à la femme que je la remercie aussi. Et que ... je suis endormi et je ne veux pas être impoli, mais ... je pourrais ... je pourrais ... Umm ... Je suis Pi.”

It seemed important (and she didn’t know why) to tell them her name. Although, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t done that already. And it seemed just as important to tell them about Elliot, the person she hoped like hell they’d be taking her to.

“d'Artois. Je suis Pi Artois et je ... Elliot est à Lancaster de. Elliot d'Artois .. mon mari.”

And that was all she could manage. It felt like the world was a whirl of noise and it competed unsuccessfully with the noise inside her own mind. The grainy presence of overwhelming knowledge kept trying to haul her back into her own psyche and she was losing a battle to stay present and involved in this conversation. She had done what she could to be an active part of her own rescue but it was clear (if to no one but herself) that she was about to check the hell out.

Again. Closing her eyes she did just that.

[Shan]

Who the hell... oh what the hell. ******* stupid. So ******* stupid. Shan's thoughts ran through her head vividly on repeat. Red hues stared at Pi. What had she done, that she had gone from such a gun toting badass to... that? Shan's eyes narrowed, had she done something to the wraith, or had they done something to her? All Shan knew was that the wraiths taught you things, things that other pathed vampires knew, but the more she thought about it the more she was just getting annoyed. Bleach. She smelled bleach. It stuck to her nose like white on rice, the way it crept up in and took a seat to make itself comfortable.

"Ugh." She muttered lightly as the male whom desperately needed a hair cut walked past her talking about things they already knew. Did he take them for complete fools? Shan flailed her hands once more, turning and taking a step to the side, then back to her original position, clearly getting antsy just standing around. They needed to get her inside. Who the hell cared if she went to Lancaster's? As long as they dumped her somewhere somewhat safe she could wake up in the morning and be none the wiser. "Jesus christ." Rolled off her lips, her arms crossing over her chest once more as her eyes flickered to the hippy dude then back to Reanna. Then they rolled, and she shook her head. "Seriously."

Finally, Reanna had taken up Pi and started to walk along with her - but in the wrong direction. Shan smirked a little, suppressing a laugh that bubbled in the back of her throat. "Wrong way." She called out, rather bluntly. But then Pi went limp, and Shan could tell that Reanna was having trouble holding the woman up on her own - all that dead weight. She sighed, her head still shaking slightly, moving to the other side and hoisting her up between the two. "How many people does it take to get another inside..." She offered a very bad joke, cracking on the situation which helped to ease the annoyance of it all even if just for a little bit.

She steered them around, to the right, heading up towards the News Station. She gave a direct nod of her head.

"Up that way just a ways. Its not far." Sort of.

[Elijah Cole (DELETED 5419)]

Elijah Cole had pushed with his knees, straightening out after he had addressed the woman who preferred in that moment to speak French. No doubt there was a reason for such a trigger. Given that Elijah did not know of the women in the small group, he left the moment up to chance. In this town, any and everything could set someone off at the slightest infraction of space and time. He smirked, too, at that moment when the one with the robotic voice swooped down and hefted up the reason for their gathering.

He knew better than to intrude too much. He knew better than to insert himself within the affairs of other people. Although, he could not help it when one was so obviously injured in some fashion. The frown tugged the corners of his lips down as he saw the Russian woman turn and start in the wrong direction. She, too, didn't look in the best of ways as the clinging shirt was splotched in a fashion of being wet with a dark liquid that he assumed it was most likely blood.

However, even though he assumed she was injured, her strength was great. He didn't bother moving as the other shouted out to the woman that she was going the wrong way. Yes, Elijah had said just where Lancaster's was. On the corner of 17 and 32, but he could see how well he was listened to in the moment of aggravation and frustration for the ladies. He merely bit his tongue, his hands sliding down into his pockets while he waited for the woman who was hoisting the French lady over her shoulder to turn around.

He set his eyes upon the other, the one that actually spoke English among them. He gave her a nod. Perhaps, it was a bit of appreciation that she had spoken up and not let the Russian get too far off course. The woman certainly had patience. He would have opened his mouth as the woman who had introduced herself as Pi lolled passed. She looked as if she were going to fall asleep at any moment. To Pi, he said, "Je compris que, ma dame. Mon nom est Elie Cole. Je vais leur dire que vous avez dit merci."

That was when he moved. He started to briefly follow the woman with strong arms and her temporary captive. He knew that there was a secret among the women. He knew that there were lots of secrets in the dead of night in this city. He inhaled deeply, first looking to the English speaking woman. "My name is Elijah. Elijah Cole. I am newer here. Just been in the city about six months now. She appreciates your help. Both of your help."

He spoke for the woman now, thanking the two as if they didn't already know from the robotic voice of the wounded, Russian woman's iPad. He sank his hands into his slacks once more. He'd see that the woman made it to Lancaster's and then he would be on his way. He had to take care of Colonel after all, and it would have been a while since he had spoken with Zelda. Given Pi's display of vulnerability and complete need to rely on strangers for assistance, his chest tugged at the thought of Zelda and his still unwritten plan.

As they headed in the right direction for Redwood now, he simply took a deep breath and held it. He was sure to have a long night ahead of him. He smiled though at the woman who bobbed around in the Russian's arms. "C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer Pi. Nous allons vous rendre à votre Elliot prochainement."

[Reanna]

Of course.

She just had to be going the wrong way. She still hadn't learned the city as well as she should have, even after all the time that she had been there. Most of it had been spent in the sewers or in her home with Kirill and Aksel. Rarely did she travel out into the night unless called. Why? Because she was trying to avoid this very thing from happening. She could tell that she wasn't making a good impression on the strangers, but that didn't stop her from doing what needed to be done. The Russian wasn't about friends, family and love. It just wasn't in her to open up. If she did, the pain would swallow her whole.

Gritting her teeth, she continued to ignore the studious laughter that followed her as she turned on her heel and followed in the direction Shan had indicated. Her fingers kept Pi curled tight against her chest, not allowing the woman to fall. She kept muttering the name 'Elliott', and Reanna was not about to let her stay from her loved one too long. Perhaps he could teach her that she needed to stay off the streets if she couldn't handle it. Tracing her tongue with her lower lip, she adjusted her hold on her as she pulled out her iPad from it's bag. It was an awkward hold, but she managed to make it work as she tapped out a quick message to her childe.

'I will be late. Do not worry.'

Short and to the point. She had no idea when she pressed send, that she would probably send her childe into a worried, nervous frenzy. He was so different from her husband, who would take the message with a roll of his eyes and probably tell her that she better not be late before throwing himself back into his work. No, her childe was... different. Shaking her head, she let her green gaze drop to the woman in her arms as the strange man that smelled like wet dogs spoke in French once more. Her eyes narrowed on him, though not in agitation, more curiosity. Out of the three surrounding them, she found him the more tolerable one.

'How far are we?' She questioned him, nails biting into Pi's thigh and shoulder as the pain thrummed through her. The sun would be rising soon. She'd like to be home before it did.

[Pi dArtois]

Pi wasn’t really sure what she was meant to do at this point. There was a cloud of air she was floating on right now and that cloud of air didn’t give a rats *** where she was, what she was doing, or the fact she was slung up in the arms of a vampire she hadn’t met before this … err fifteen minutes. Or had it been longer. No fifteen minutes. Less than that. Pi sniffed, then swiped her hand under her nose.

Cracking her eyeballs open, she gave the dude who spoke French a beady eyeball, wondering if she should respond. Thinking maybe she didn’t need to. So didn’t. And slumped again, only to be jostled by the woman who shuffled her body around in a way Pi only imagined made the carry more comfortable.

Her eyes were closed as she spoke, hoping Mr Rocker Guy was close enough to hear because the other two obviously were not conversationalists and weren’t actively participating in this conversation, if exclamations to Jesus Christ could be call additions to the conversation. “Vous habitez près ici?”

In a saner moment (which obviously wasn’t this one, because right now, Pi wasn’t feeling all that put together), Pi wondered why her brain was racing around like a rat on speed, bumping up against the walls of its own little maze giving itself a concussion in its frenetic attempt to find its mental cheese. Pi smiled, then waved her hand in the air. Twisting her fingers in front on her face, small slender fingertips, ending in smoothly filed nails that fascinated her quite illogically considering her eyes were closed. If her eyes had been open she'd have seen the blood on her fingers from her bleeding nose. The bleeding nose which dripped still, her hand swiping away the drip, not knowing, or caring, or realising that she was bleeding all over her mouth and chin and all of it was leaking out of both nostrils.

Her hand dropped like a dead weight to dangle as she was hauled down the dark street. Except something niggled in the back of her mind, something she knew she should be worried about (there was lots she probably should have been sorry about considering her mental state).

Lifting a hand she used her fingertips to pry open her own eyelids, smearing her eye with red. Her voice was soft as she whispered harshly under her breath to the woman holding her “Je vous connais ?”

Not that Pi expected the woman to answer her, not when she hadn’t answered her before, but she thought she would try. Fill in the conversational gap with… well, questions. Pertinent questions, cause she really really wanted to know if she knew the woman who was holding her so… close. Surely an exchange of names was in order. “Est-ce que je sais tout de vous?”

Pi tried to sit up, as if sitting up straight while a woman carried her in a bridal hold was a **** hot idea (it wasn’t really, but Pi tried - she also tried to cross her legs). Her expression was serious (seriously nut bag because she was acting like she was sitting at a table about to have High Tea and not being carted down the street), when the reality was that she looked like the result of a serious domestic violence incident. “Attendez ! Qui êtes-vous ?!”

Leaning towards the other woman and man, nearly unbalancing herself from her precarious position, she whispered sotte voce, like there was a great secret to be told. “Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes.”

Absently Pi's tongue darted out to lick her lips, tasting blood (which didn't register at all), her hand coming up again to smear the dribbling stuff around her chin.

[Shan]

Shan pushed her thumb into her temple hard as she followed along with the group. At this point she felt like she was a mere spectator in this incident, only able to give directions to the wandering Reanna, watching as she simply nodded her head to the male in response to his introduction to her. Six months wasnt much time and she found herself agreeing with him that he was still new to the city. Blood red hues stared around, watching, surveying. She was being vigilant of all of their surroundings as to make sure their expedition with the injured woman would end safely and they could all go home.

"Shan. Andras." She finally offered him his desired response as she looked over to Pi who was spewing more and more french by the second. And now, blood too, it pouring from her nose and her getting it all over her face; Shan only able to quirk a smirk at her and think how she looked like she lost a boxing match. She looked over to Elijah again, pulling her smokes from her pocket and plucking a slender white stick filled with only god knew what and holding it at her lips to fish for her zippo in her pockets.

"Does she even know she isnt speaking english right now?" Her question came out half muffled half irritated, though she couldnt make up her mind if the irritation was with the fact that she couldnt understand them or the fact that she was starting to feel like this was a waste of her night. A black sedan drove by slowly, the driver probably intoxicated at this hour, Shans hues following it along the desolate street until it turned and dissappeared behind a corner.

[Elijah Cole (DELETED 5419)]

As he walked down the street with the women around him, he wondered just what he was doing. Oh, he knew for sure that he was surrounded by Vampires, but yet found himself not at all worried that one would lash out and slice open his throat. No, he had come upon them in a fashion any concerned citizen should. He offered his help. He spoke French only because it had been a bit of a hobby of his when he was younger. It was fun until his mother caught on and was soon enough carrying on a conversation at the dinner table with just the two of them involved.

When the Frenchwoman's voice sounded, he turned to look at her. He walked with his hands now slid inside his front pockets of his slacks in a manner as if he did this sort of thing every day. Elijah had a way about him, a quiet nature that was superbly caring. He didn't display it often, but given his line of work he did not care to advertise his services. He wasn't the man that stepped into situations when they were already being handled properly from his point of view. No, instead he calmly remained the bystander until his notion was no longer available for him to be the observer. He was not egotistical in that way.

He felt her eyes at first, of course. He felt that harsh gaze the woman gave to him. While his brain deciphered her question, his nod was slow. Though, he cared not to give too much information out. While the other women around him obviously did not speak French, the one being carried did. He cared not to be hunted down in the middle of the night to be snacked upon if he could help it. Nor, he was sure, that Zelda would appreciate sharing. "Oui."

Now, with the Russian woman's own translation system, Elijah did not feel it completely necessary to decipher everything at first. As the Frenchwoman shifted in the Russian's arms, he watched to make sure any assistance would not be needed in keeping her upright and her face from hitting the cement. One block became two, and soon enough they were happening upon their target location.

"She asked who you were. Then she said she did not know us." He smiled. He just smiled to the bleeding woman, riffling through his pockets in order to find that handkerchief. He was afraid it might not come of extreme use to the woman, but his initials had been embroidered into the corner of the material. It was a gift, really. However, at this moment the woman needed it more than he. Handing the material off to her, he gave the mysterious woman a friendly smile.

"Nous allons vous rentrer à la maison. Pour votre mari, Elliot. Vous étiez malade et dit qu'il ferait mieux vous." He reassured the woman that certainly looked beside herself all of a sudden. He hoped that she wouldn't bleed too much upon the Russian woman. Then again, she was covered in blood anyways. "Just another block. It will be on your right." He said to the dark haired female who questioned how long it would now be. There was a kick of the corner of his mouth up into a smile.

"Hello Shan Andras. A pleasure, I assure you. And no, I am sure she doesn't realize she is only speaking French. Someone must have slipped her something, no?" He questioned, perhaps curious just what sort of things lurked within the city. He wondered, perhaps for reference, just what else he should watch out for. It wasn't long when he saw the Lancaster's sign about half a block away.