Path of the Vampire forum

Dominique stood there listening to the debate of what to do. It was a storm. It was not an apocalypse. So much worse could be upon them. She looked around at the faces and as she did she could recall those sounds. The screams that would ride up the spine you never could see but were attached to. The hopelessness in not knowing if you would ever make it out of the colorless void that you had been delivered to. Three trips had given her enough of a reference that the world could be unforgiving but there were darker places where she believed hell did exist. The loss of hours, nights and those days that haunted you with the reality you belonged nowhere. All of that was much worse than what they were facing right now.

The cold caress of change ran across Dominiques cheeks as her fingers reached upward and pulled the blue robot beanie from the top of her dark head. Her hands rolled it up and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Her dark eyes shot to Lucia. The corner of her own lips lifted at the right briefly then faded. The sun was going to rise despite all the eternal time they had to debate how to deal with the presence of humans and avoiding discovery.

Deidre spoke up and it was the uncurling of her position of retreat that took hold of Dominique’s attention. The woman appeared to be coming around and with ideas for concealing them until it was safe to exit. A gentle smile formed until the invitation was presented for a full makeover at some temple. Again her lips went into a flat line. A make-over? How did that seem to be a thought in the middle of a perfect storm? She blinked and the woman was gone. She could only guess that someone somewhere cared enough about the woman to claim her and summon her home.

“And then there were three left.” Dominique's voice went into a soft nursery rhyme tone as her eyes danced over to Lucia and Lancaster. What would happen next?

There was a retort ready on Elliot’s lips, but it did not pass.

What did being a vampire have to do with anything? If a building was his—one that he owned and paid for, a business that was losing money each day that it was closed, businesses that could help the community if open, the money a charitable good that could be offered to those whose houses were lost—yes, didn’t matter whether he was human or vampire, he would do what he could to get inside and assess the damage as soon as possible. Perhaps he was reckless, but he wouldn’t be waiting for anyone. And, if one thought about the kinds of people who might own gyms? Junkies. Adrenaline junkies, maybe. Elliot was pictures some guy hopped up on steroids who thought he’d be able to take on the world.

Deirdre made a suggestion, before offering an invitation to the other two and then summarily disappearing. Elliot’s hand had been upon her shoulder, and he now fell forward. Although he reached out and laid his palm against the wall to regain his balance, he was reminded of the wound on his head. A wave of dizziness caused black to appear at the corners of his vision, and he had to swallow a groan.

Well, that didn’t feel very good.

He swallowed a vague notion of bile that wanted to rise in his throat and stood there with his eyes closed for a few long seconds, before he finally looked up again. There were two left. Neither of whom seemed at all phased by their situation. One who had faith that humanity would stay away, and the other who didn’t have much to say at all. What else could they do?

The tome wasn’t working and he couldn’t teleport. He knew no one who could summon him, and though home was only a couple of blocks away, he’d been warned not to go outside. It would be safer inside—maybe the storm would rage most of the day, and the crews wouldn’t come around until the next day. He could only be optimistic. Elliot was normally optimistic. He remembered that about himself; about how, if he were human he’d be the one rallying those who were stressed. Pointing out the silver linings and doing his best to calm them down. What had happened to that man?

So he shrugged, and pushed himself into a standing position again.

”Red crosses. Let’s do it, quickly. And we’ll try to make a crypt out of the showers. Eh? Sleepovers at the gym,” he said, making his way back out to the main part of the gym to try to find what needed to be found to make this plan work. He stumbled, just the once, another wave of dizziness threatening to send him reeling. But he had faith that the wound would heal itself and he’d be able to work through it. He would work through it.