Crash [ Nishaa ]

[Thorne (DELETED 7278)]

"Got it," Thorne responded from behind the screen. He finished dressing and looked down in despair. The over sized white tee shirt and baggy sweats were decidedly unflattering. When had he become one of the "people of Wal-Mart?" Thorne resigned himself to temporary unfashionableness and stepped out from behind the screen with his best foot forward. His smile was all charm.

"Please tell the owner of these garments that he has my thanks, and he will have his clothes back in good order. In fact, as soon as I gain access to my off shore accounts..." That moment couldn't come soon enough. Thorne was anxious to trade this chafing cotton (rayon?) for silk. He noted that Nishaa's general expression of disdain had hardly altered since she had first met him (and tried to murder him) earlier that evening. He decided it was time to start earning his keep. Thorne had never shied away from hard work. He had toiled relentlessly to be the best in Wall Street, and then to corner the illegal drug trade, and finally to be the city's most notorious serial killer. Now he would find out what it took to be the best once more, this time as a blood sucking creature of the night.

"You've done so much for me, Ms. Andras. I'd like to know what I can do for you? In other words, I want to pull my weight around here. How can I serve my new family?" Thorne sincerely hoped the answer would involve more killing. He could feel the blood he had consumed that night infusing his muscles, straining and flexing them. He began to realize he was very likely to become addicted to what the blood was doing to him. While he did not relish the idea of losing control, his craving for what the blood was doing to him could not be denied. He would want more, and soon.

[Nishaa]

He took the clothes from her and began to get changed behind the screen. Her foot tapped against the red carpet as she waited for him to reveal himself. Then he did. Nishaa had to stop herself from snickering. The clothes were clearly far too big for him, which in itself was amusing. Micah was a huge guy, he was a killer. The stronger he got the bigger he got. He was clearly above the height of six foot, and Thorne was not a six footer man. Nishaa turned away from him to snigger more - before turning her now blank face back to him, the facade of an emotionless vampire was back.

”I’m sure he will want them back. They belong to Micah.” She said his name like Thorne would automatically know who he was, when she saw no response or recognition in his features, she explained it. ”My grandsire? - the man that made the woman that made me.” She practically spelled it out for him like he was dumb idiot, and he could have been for all she knew. All she knew really was that he was now her responsibility. Her bloody experiment.

Then he mentioned his offshore accounts, and a small snarl ripped through her fangs.

”Your old life is gone. You. Are. Dead." She moved forward grabbing Thorne by the neck and pushed him against the wall, like he was a submissive. ”You’ve been given a new chance at life, your offshore account is off limits. You use it, people know you're alive. They will come here, they will not only put you at risk, but all of the vampires here. You don’t want that do you?” She waited for any kind of sign that he understood before she released him. The pale hand moving from the nape of his neck.

Sometimes you had to be harsh with a child, before they understood the lesson to be learned here.

He asked what he could do then, after a few moments. How he could essentially pull his weight and she smirked, making her way over to the plush armchair near the fireplace. She sat down, and rested her back against the soft, velvet material. ”Depends. The family has roles. What can you offer, the family?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. Eager to hear his response. The question was important to her. If he could offer anything of use. She would offer him more of her time.