d'Artois: Events in Time

[Catherine Nilson]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Catherine Nilson: "Dad," Cat grumbled. She peeked outside the apartment briefly to make sure nobody was up looking for gunshots, then went to check on Vasik. Couldn't he settle anything without bloodshed? She felt like shooting him, to show him how it felt, but then she would get shot, and thus would begin a vicious cycle of pain.

Vasik: "Argh, you ***********!" Vasik would have slashed at him with his razor claws, the good ones, had he not believed Doc was far superior to him in battle. The bullet obliterated his thumb and hit his shoulder, right in the socket. "**** this **** I'm out of here. I didn't even want to know you, old geezer." He made for the door, shrugging past Cat.

Catherine Nilson: Cat watched him go with a grimace, then turned to Doc. She folded her arms across her chest and deadpanned up at him. Well. Some help he had been.
Doc: "Cat" he mimiced her voice, "I want to kill him.. he leaves.. Hes on my ******* **** list .. for ******* ever..."

Vasik: Vasik let out a low growl. There was no way he could win. He let go of the handle of the door. "Well what is it you suggest I do? Hmm?!"

Catherine Nilson: "Oh, who cares, everybody's on your dumb list," Cat moped. She went to slump on the couch, pouting in the true spirit of a nineteen year old.

Doc: Doc turned to regard this 'other personality' evenly, "You? or.. Logan?" He smirked wryly, "Logan, is the one I want to die. He's weak a link. I know it.. she's knows it.. and you know it." He lifted an eyebrow. "You're stronger than him.. why do you let him out? He will get you -all- killed. How do I know this? Because I will head the hunt. The weakest link.. needs to be put down, if we -all- are to survive. Put him in his place. No one.. even the hippies.. wants a whiny *** 'poor pitiful me' person around them.. long term. What does that mean? Well I am glad you asked.. He will get put down.. and you two along with him.. unless you put him down ... first. Your choice."

Vasik: Vasik hated the idea of the shadow realm, but it was a good idea. "Is there an alternative... a ritual perhaps? Something where I don't have to have my *** in Hell for a week. Otherwise, I'm game." Vasik was desperate for Logan to go. Within him, he heard Logan roaring, banging at his bonds. Vasik winced a little at the noise, but was fine enough to speak. In some ways, Vasik blamed Logan for the presence of the Mirror. If Logan hadn't held him back from raping and slaughtering like back in his glory days, then perhaps the Mirror would not have come to exist. Maybe the Mirror would also dissipate in the shadow realm…

Doc: "A ritual.. " he waffled with his hands a bit, "Could be.. won't lie. I am not a ritualist.. So I can't speak to that intelligently." He paused, "However, Because I am not a ritualist.. there are very few I would trust.. to do a ritual on me without knowing for damn sure what they are doing." He shifted his shoulders, "You want to check with a ritualist.. thats fair.. No argument from me. But know who you are dealing with.. cause they ******* kill 'you' instead of the *** wipe. Then I gotta kill his *** anyway. And I will be more annoyed... Meaning.. I will exact revenge before the final blow.. so.. your call." Doc glanced at Cat, then to Vasik, "Ask her what she did.. worked for her."

Vasik: Vasik looked to Cat with a cocked eyebrow. "So, what did you decide to do with your problem?" His blood dripped on the floor while he ignored his wounds.

Doc: "Yes Cat.. tell him how you put a gun to your head to be rid of the monster..."

Catherine Nilson: Cat sat up, "Well... Schizophrenia is a little different," she waffled before deciding to be honest. Well, not deciding, so much as being outed by Doc. She looked at Vasik and sighed. "It was last year. Things got so bad I shot myself in the head. The voices went all buzzy and incoherent." But it hadn't killed her, and Doc had been furious. She even had to clean up after herself.

Doc: Doc looked from Cat to Vasik, "You do what needs to be done.. or you are a slave to it forever."

Vasik: Vasik merely nodded at Doc. He did feel like a slave. He wanted to be free again, a predator on the streets. He looked to Cat, emotionless, trying to express recognition for her deed.

Catherine Nilson: Cat was thinking about that night. A lot had happened. Maybe she should just stop making childer. They were either horribly arrogant, or self-loathing.

Doc: "Now.. to be clear. You have to think ahead. 5 steps ahead. Before you do anything.. You plot the next 5 steps. If you plan to shoot someone.. you think to yourself "if I do this.. 1. this will happen, 2, then this.. 3. then this.. 4. then this.. and finally 5.this. And for each step.. you have an evac plan. 1. this will happen, if it goes wrong .. I will do this.. 2, then this.. if it goes wrong .. I will do this.. 3. then this.. if it goes wrong .. I will do this.. 4. then this.. if it goes wrong .. I will do this.. and finally 5.this. if it goes wrong .. I will do this.. - Do you understand?"

Vasik: Vasik nodded again. He almost never thought ahead, but this was a dire situation that required the most vigilance in planning and care. Five steps was a bit much for the quick-to-go, manic boy, but it had to be done. He gained a bit of respect for the old man before him, but still loathed him. He had been disrespected, and he would never forget it.

Doc: Doc eyed him for a moment. Then acquiesced. He wanted to rail at him and give him, in detail, the consequences of his actions if they were rash and ‘wrong’, but there was only so much he could do. Vasik had to do it himself. If Vasik failed, well .. they would deal with that, when the time came. Failure was a part of growth. People learned best when they failed, and when they knew why they failed.

Catherine Nilson: Cat flopped over on the couch face down. She was exhausted. Shots had been fired, but it looked like maybe things were going to happen for the best.

Doc: He moved to the couch, lifted Cat's legs and sat down, Let her legs back down over his lap, and picked up a medical journal. Nice! There was an article on nano probes! There was so much promise being shown in nano probes.

[Doc]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Doc: Doc set the box down that he was carrying, by the door, so that he could get his key and unlock it. The box wasn’t so heavy that he couldn’t balance and unlock the door. But balancing the box, save no more time, than setting it down and unlocking the door properly, and it was dignified. Opening the now unlocked door, He retrieved the box and stepped into the apartment. He paused as he noticed Cat, he schooled his face to show no hint of devilment what so ever.

Catherine Nilson: Cat was still slightly irritated at him for having shot her childe. Well, really, for not being able to solve anything without drawing his gun. Every single time, it was the gun. It reminded her of her first few months of life as a vampire. Shoot you this, kill you myself that. Cat didn't want to be that kind of sire. But maybe it was the kind of sire Vasik needed. Cat sighed and looked over at him. She didn't know... she didn't know anything. "Hi dad," she said neutrally, from her spot on the chair. She was cleaning out a large jar.

Doc: Doc set the sealed legal sized banker box down in an empty corner. “Hello Cat.” He took off his overcoat, and hung it carefully before looking through the mail that he had forwarded here, when his house .. exploded. He was still perusing the mail as he absently asked after Vasik, “How is the spawn’s hand?” He finally turned and eyed the Jar, “Is that for his hand?”

Catherine Nilson: "No," said Cat with some cheer as she thought about it, "I was going to get a new head. I'm almost done with Head 3 and I'm starting to get bored looking at him." Head 3 reminded her of her recently estranged boyfriend Axel, who she had loved a little too dearly, and ruined something for him in a fit of jealousy-induced one upmanship on some older redheaded broad.

Doc: “Mmm..” he replied noncommittally. Doc studied the jar, his brow slightly furrowed as he suddenly said, “No it’s too small.. yes.” He nodded, “You should use it for a head.” Turning his attention back to the mail, he waited to see if she took the bait. If she didn’t, no bother. It would just make the game that much more fun. He flipped past a couple junk mail envelopes, and began to open another.

Catherine Nilson: Cat could bite. "Too small for what?" she mumbled inquisitively and sat up straighter. The vampire set the jar down and leaned toward him, as if she could intimidate him somehow into giving her the scoop on what was going on.

Doc: Doc didn’t give her his full attention as he was skimming a letter, he just canted his head toward the banker box that now sat unassumingly in the corner. “Had to bring it home.. the workmen had to cut the power to freezer unit..” His voice was distracted.

Catherine Nilson: A body part? Cat loved body parts. "I want to see," she said and got up to retrieve the box. An often straight-faced individual, nothing made Cat more enthusiastic than dismembered body parts, fresh for the dissecting. So many secrets to discover under all that decomposing skin.

Doc: "Have at it.. " As he moved to the second page of what was a contract for services. Now he was truly distracted, it wasn't just an act. He had been doing hospital lab work on a case by case basis, but now, he held in his hand, a contract for a substancial amount of money if he were to expand and increase the number of tests. He was currently expanding the lab, but if he were to accept this contract, he would need a couple of employees. It was very tempting.

Catherine Nilson: Cat bent and took the box. She happily returned to the chair by the bookshelf, then opened it like a Christmas present. When she saw the arm inside, she stared at it for a while. It brought back tons of old memories. Of course she recognized it. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, then sniffled again. She kept seeing Axel in his bed, torn to pieces, missing that very arm. It was the arm Doc took, that Cat had tried to chase him down for. It was the arm that she'd gotten into a fight with him over, and then tackled her sire, something that had gotten her stabbed. Why, she could feel that stab wound as if it was yesterday, if she looked closely enough at the arm through her tears.

Doc: Doc had moved on to page three of the contract, the stipulation phase of the contract. The part of the contract where, if one was not careful, one could find themselves over a barrel due to the fine print. Because he was reading carefully now, he didn’t hear her sniffling. He was flipping back from page two to page three, to make sure he was not missing a critical phrase. A phrase that he would often use he instigated the contracting with others for services rendered. It wasn’t there.

Catherine Nilson: Suddenly he was beset from behind by a crying teenager. She hugged him tightly and mumbled almost inaudibly, "You gave it back. You finally gave it back... thank you." She had been hurt many a time over that stupid arm.

[Catherine Nilson]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Doc: Doc was actually startled as Cat actually clamped herself to him. He blinked and frowned at her. What the ****? “What are you..” the words died as he belatedly realized that she found the arm and was sobbing in delight. He sighed, “Yes.. yes.. it’s yours now.. Enjoy..” He gave her a half hearted squeeze and attempted to free himself, so he could go back to studying the contract.

Catherine Nilson: She let go of him and wiped her eyes, then returned to the arm. She picked it up and smiled at it, then smooched it. But something was weird. She didn't have an elated feeling. When Doc had taken the arm, it was Axel's arm, and therefore Cat's. But now, it wasn't like that anymore. There was no attachment. It was just an arm. "It's just an arm," she realizes in amazement.

Doc: “Mmmhmm…” He agreed absently to Cat. The contract actually had caveats that he could use to his favor. Of course it wouldn’t be something he would use right away. This was a temporary contract. If he did decide to accept the contract, he would play it clean and clear until the long term contract was put forth. Then, if he played it right, the long term contract would have the same caveat in it, that he could then exploit, and still be under contract for a long term. By the time that time period would be up, the situation would need to be revisited. Yes, this had real possibilities.

Catherine Nilson: Cat tucked the arm back into the box, tossed the box to her sire. "You can keep it," she said. When a baby is born, the mother looks at it and falls in love, no matter how disgusting, pink, wrinkly or covered in blood it might be, because of natural hormones. Cat just had the opposite reaction to seeing Axel's severed arm. It gave her the very opposite effect, it detached her emotionally from the whole sticky situation. It was just an arm, and Axel was just an emotionally constipated boy.

Doc: He was hit by the box. His head jerked up and he frowned at her, what the ****? She was sobbing with happiness a minute ago, and now she’s throwing it at him? He would never ******* understand females. “Wait a minute Catherine.” He collected the box and set it on the floor, “Explain to me what the **** just happened..” he held a finger up, “You were happy.. crying happy.. and now you’re throwing it at me. Explain.”

Catherine Nilson: "Dad. You didn't understand when I wanted the arm. How are you going to understand when I don't want it? You have to listen. It's embarrassing and I'm only gonna tell you why once." It was probably hard for him to wrap his brain around, what with Tender Feelings having been involved.

Doc: How he managed to do it, even Doc isn’t quite sure. But he managed to bite back, and keep at bay the hatefully snide comment that ‘he’ wasn’t the one that had to be told things multiple times. That ‘he’ was completely unlike someone else he knew. He counted before he replied. He made a point the set the contract on the coffee table, he turned to face her fully, clasping his hands together, relaxing back in order not to miss a scintillating syllable that fell from her lips. “I am listening.”

Catherine Nilson: Cat made eye contact with him, then explained. "When you took the arm, it wasn't just an arm to me. I was attached to the arm. I had these possessive feelings for it, almost like it was my treasure even though you're the one who got it from him. I thought if I ever saw it again, I'd feel amazing. But I don't feel even a little amazing. I feel normal. Because it's just Axel's arm, it's no big deal, it's a stupid normal arm. Sorry. I know you were trying to be nice. Giving it back and all."

Doc: Doc unclasped his hands, and rubbed his jaw slowly. He hadn’t done this to be nice. He didn’t have any paperwork on it, and he had to get it out of the lab before the workmen saw it. Lab specimens were one thing, but severed arm? That screamed serial killer. And this time he wasn’t even ******* guilty. He had hoped the presence of the arm would do something. But this was not the result he had expected, or really wanted. He wasn’t even sure what reaction he wanted. But having an arm chucked at him, wasn’t it. Now he was faced with having to look disheartened that his ‘gift’ was not wanted. He would never understand females. “Don’t worry about it. I will.. take care of it.”

Catherine Nilson: Cat smiled. He was so understanding! Well, some of the time. "Okay," she said happily, then returned to washing the jar out.

Doc: To be honest, he had rather hoped she would get angry, and scream and yell about the the horrid treatment she had experienced at Axel's hand. At least that way, he could ******* kill him. He had been prepared for her to be angry.. and while she was angry he could use that as an excuse. But **** it to hell, she hadn't react remotely like he expected and he still hadn't gotten her to blurt it out in a angry tirade. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. The one time he fully expected to be the bad guy, and he was willing to embrace that role.. she made him a caring thoughtful person. What. The. ****.

[Vasik (DELETED 5042)]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Vasik: The Lions Den, the newest venue in town. It featured several local artists playing a variety of music, but lately, it had been a host to raves. The lights were slightly dimmed, but some colored lasers were still alight as the staff swept the floor of broken glass. Although they were wrapping up for the night, Vasik still liked to keep his music on, at least a tad. He loved music. It boiled in his blood. Vasik directed his staff, briefing them on what he liked and didn't like from their performance that night. He was new to being a boss, a little too personal with his critique, but he was getting used to it. It was apparent he didn't work with people often, but his personal growth continued, even though it was tinged with an inferiority complex.
Catherine Nilson: His sire showed up with a bouquet of roses. The bouncer knew to keep an eye out for her and unlocked the door, letting her in. "Hi Vasik," Cat said when he seemed to have a minute. She handed him the blood red roses, which were propped up in a black vase and still sported thorns. "Congratulations on the remodeling." Her dusky green eyes took in the fresh interior. She could still feel the energy in the air, it might be a good spot for a ritual table downstairs, maybe some portals. Cat dreamed about her childe's bright future and hugged him. "I'm proud of you."
Vasik: Vasik stiffened awkwardly at the hug. He wasn't particularly the hugging type, but he did enjoy the presence of someone like her sire. This may be because Cat was his only outside influence that supported him, gave him hope. But he didn't want to see this as a weakness. He took a moment to appreciate the flowers, his favorite color. He took the face delicately and laid them on the back bar. They looked nice there, against the marble countertop. He took both of his sire's hands into his own, kissed them gently, and asked soothingly, "What can I do for you this evening?"
Catherine Nilson: "How about a booth," Cat asked him. "Do you have time to hang out?" He had been busy, but she didn't mind. She would also hug him whether he liked it or not. Some sires abused their power and influence over their childer in other ways, but Cat only took advantage of it to claim hugs. She wasn't even the hugging sort, but enjoyed hugging both of her childer. Even if the elder boy wasn't around as much, and didn't seem as active, or to take being a vampire as seriously as Vasik.
Vasik: "I can one-up ya, follow me to our private room, there's someone there I'd like you to meet." He led her to a door on the left made of dark glass and a long metallic frame with bars for handles. Inside was a red-wood floor, polished nice and clean. There was a red sofa, a black corner couch, and a red armchair. It seemed like a simple sanctuary for the only occupant within, a small calico kitten with a jingling red collar. Vasik had built this room specially for him and her, and anyone wishing to hold a conference with him. Her amenities were stowed secretly away in the wall, a glass case separating the kitten's bed, food, and water from any possible aggressors. Vasik was always concerned for her safety, especially since kittens in the vampire world were rarely seen alive. He was aware of this weakness, but he couldn't help but have an empathy, no, an affinity for felines. It was in his Leo soul.
Catherine Nilson: Cat bent to pet the kitten. Her own sire loved cats and had one named Sheba who had taken a liking to Catherine's lap. She had allowed it, even though animals made her feel squeamish sometimes because of how she'd treated them and seen them treated in her human past. "Nice office." Cat was sitting on the sofa, with her purse down by her feet. Her fingertips tickled the calico.
Vasik: "Yeah, I do what I want," he said as he kicked back on the opposite couch, feet on the arms of the couch. "Don't need a desk. Don't need nothin but my comfort and Lelu here." He turned on his side, cleaning out his wicked nails. "So what can I help you with?" The kitten playfully and lightly clawed and bit at Cat's fingers, rolling around and wriggling with happiness.
Catherine Nilson: "Nothing. Just came to talk. Though maybe you could help me with something actually. It's about when you were human, though. Or... when Logan was human? Either way."
Vasik: Vasik grimaced at the thought. "Yeah what of it?" His snarky attitude made itself apparent in his voice.
Catherine Nilson: "You don't HAVE to talk about it," Cat reminded him, smiling lopsidedly. The calico hopped on her lap and she petted the purring fluffball. "I mean if you're scared..."
Vasik: "HA! Scared? Just annoyed... Seems like everyone wants Logan lately, and he's the worst part of us. Why not me? I'm far superior than he was as a human. Nothing is important about our past, only our future." The last part was a conviction the Mirror drilled within him and his mind. Was it brainwashing if it was your own mind doing it? "Fine," he said with a harumph. "He wants to know why first, before he comes out."
Catherine Nilson: "Ask him if he's ever done drugs," Cat requested. Then she looked up at Vasik quizzically. Had he ever done drugs? And as a vampire, did they even work on him? Cat did drugs sometimes, but they only worked because of a power she had.
Vasik: "Ha! Him? The goody two-shoes? I have, but they ain't done ****. They may have had some effect but it could have just been a placebo effect." His eyes focused in an unseen place. "Wait... he does have something to say. Ooh, this is going to be good." He cackled then relaxed in his sofa, arms crossed on his chest as if in a therapy appointment. He looked up, not meeting eyes with the green marbles staring at him, and simply said hesitantly, "...once..."
Catherine Nilson: Cat reached over to pet his hair. "It's okay. I did too. You're not in trouble or anything. Would you mind telling me about it though?"
Vasik: "I can't remember too much about it." He wasn't quite ashamed anymore, which was strange. It was something he was so afraid of anyone knowing, like a virgin hiding porn. Well, there was that too... when he was a human boy. "I was nineteen. I was depressed and trying to find an outlet. I tried shrooms, had a strange trip, and I guess that's it."
Catherine Nilson: "Tell me about the trip, please. Like what it did to your head. How it made you feel inside." Cat took a notepad out of her purse. There were already a bunch of filled in pages. She started jotting things on a fresh page.
Vasik: "I..." he had trouble finding his words... "Well, I wrote this story right before that time, the one that Vasik seems to connect with..." He could feel Vasik within him, actually hurting and angry at the thought of being 'fake.' Still, Logan continued. "I saw... that world, but melded with this one. I heard things too, things that I'd never heard before. It was disturbing, things were melting like lava, images waving in and out of existence. I was in a college dorm at the time, locked away alone, but I saw eyes everywhere, looking at me. Then there were these six white eyes that stood out from the others, in a black shadow..."

[Lancaster]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Elliot d’Artois> Elliot had adopted a new philosophy. He reverted back to the way he once was; he lived in the moment. He didn’t think about the future, and he didn’t think about the past. He dwelled only on the things that made him happy, rather than those that made him feel guilty, or frustrated, or upset. When he’d said on the family Crownet that he wasn’t going to check it anymore, he wasn’t lying. People were bitter and twisted and bloodthirsty, and they were rude. There was no need for rudeness, and he was sick of asking them to be nice. So **** it, he thought. They can all be assholes to each other, and he doesn’t have to watch. A conscious choice.

Some might think that it was irresponsible of him. The Crownet was a place to go for the family to post if they have any woes. But there was once a time before technology when people communicated their woes just fine. They all had his number. They all knew where to find him. If they were in dire need of his help, someone would contact him. Cytherea had already been to visit, to apologise. It buoyed him, to think that perhaps ignorance could work. Take a tiny step backward and others might follow suit.

There was a smile on his face as he worked. He sauntered around that bar with a cloth and a towel, and a basket to collect old bottles and glasses. He had a friendly greeting for all those who looked his way, but otherwise sang along to the music as it switched and changed over the sound system. He cleaned the tables, and continued to circulate, rejuvenated after the romp through the raid in the catacombs.


<Pi d’Artois> Pi wasn’t in the mood for people. Hadn’t been for a couple weeks. The least of which she felt black balled by her family for her choice and double black balled by Tytonidae that didn’t even want her despite the choice to join. Maybe it wasn’t a good fit. Maybe she wasn’t willing to compromise what they obviously needed her to. And maybe they were both right. Maybe she didn’t fit in either place. Which just made her morose because she wasn’t really sure what she was meant to do with herself now. Pour drinks? Be happy playing publican?

Sighing Pi walked to the portal to Elliot’s bar. She’d stopped thinking of it as hers, had stopped thinking of it as theirs. She wondered when the disconnect had happened but the place had become, inherently Elliot’s. Which, if she were honest, was exactly as she wanted it to be. Even if that too made her feel … isolated.

She was dressed for snow even though she couldn’t feel it. She could roam about in a bikini out in the frigid weather for all she could feel it. She’d turn blue but that would be the end of it. What she was wearing was a nod to what was expected of her and because, despite the weather no really impacting her, it felt strange to wear anything but winter clothes through snow drifts. Jeans so dark they looked black, knees scuffed by some designer who thought it looked ‘urban chic’ and a long sleeved white shirt with cuffs that stretched three inches too far past her wrist, another affectation she barely noticed but elongated her arms. The scarf around her neck was green and white, a grassy green, more spring inspired than winter. Probably chosen subconsciously to bolster her flagging spirit during the long winter nights. It wasn’t really working.

Stepping through the portal she heard the music first and knew right away Elliot wasn’t on the piano. Given that, she couldn’t be sure he was here at all but she hoped he would be. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear she stepped through the office door. Stopping on the threshold she let the door close behind her, nudging her butt and clicking closed.

He was behind the bar, a tall man with long arms and spindle like fingers. Talented musically inspired finger that danced across fret and ivory. And she smiled. Maybe she should have come here earlier to talk to him but he’d been so angry at her. Angry and dismissive and she almost turned around at the thought of his ‘I told you so’ except she really didn’t want to be alone anymore, even if solitude is what she’d been indulging in for the last few days. Instead she stood still, standing there on the threshold of here and not, watching him. Eyes watching him, a expression parched, staring at an oasis of water.


<Elliot d’Artois> Elliot caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. A smirk caught his lips. He really was in a good mood, and he was feeling better as far as Pi was concerned after their last conversation. At the moment, he had no idea that she hadn't been accepted into Tytonidae. He was still under the assumption that he had not seen her for Valentine's, or after, because she was busy with the faction. He forgot about it, as he had agreed to do. He worked for half a minute more as he schooled his features. When finally he did turn to Pi, it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. He approached her. "Excuse me, Mam, you shouldn't be behind the counter," he said. He ushered her around the bar, and planted her on one of the stools. The lingering touch of his fingers curled through hers alerted him that she was, perhaps, depressed. She was sad. He needed to work to cheer her up, just like he did with every other customer. A bit of roleplay, as it were. As if they were two people who had never met, and they had to go through the process of flirting and wooing all over again. "Beautiful woman like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this," he said, barely keeping his face straight. "What brings you in?" he asks, leaning a little on the bar after he'd circled back around behind it.


<Pi d’Artois> “I missed you” she said simply and honestly. It was the unvarnished truth and she didn’t pretty it up with flattery but smiled just as honestly. She was lulled by his light touch and soothed by his soft words and easy smile. There it was, that feeling of overwhelming warmth he oozed. It washed against her overly sensitive skin and seeped into her pores, relaxing her immediately.

She wondered if there was a power about him. She knew his charisma gave him a way about him but she never really felt the change so immediately. Her lashes dropped and her smiled stayed a languorous humour. “You bring me in…” she finished. “Always.” Reaching out she touched the hand he’d propped on the bar and leaned forward, stretching her slim body up and up and up some more so she could press her lips to his. “If I were going to be picked up at a bar, I would totally want it to be you… just like that.”


<Elliot d’Artois> The game was up, just like that. Elliot had hoped that Pi would play along. That she'd act like he was a stranger. Oh, the fun they could have had. A long-fingered hand reached up to cup her jaw, regardless. Lips parted to welcome her kiss, to kiss her back. A low rumble in the base of his throat gave away the satisfaction he felt, upon receiving that kiss. When they parted, however, he frowned down at her and shook his head with a 'tsk'. He leaned forward ever so slightly so that he could whisper in her ear, his fingers still cradling her jaw. "Then let me pick you up," he said, and then released her, standing back ever so slightly, a mischievous glint to his eye. Would she play along?


<Pi d’Artois> She smiled at him and shook her head good naturedly. She wasn't very good at games but she had never thought she'd get this far with someone, to be this trusting and this giving with another human being. For Elliot she had become more and let him shape her present and future and in this she'd also let him lead. Her eyebrow arched in question, pondering how exactly she was going to play along. Awkward, she was akward so she should play on that. Someone uncomfortable with the attention, that wasn't much of a stretch, it was the closest to her truth. So she smiled nervously, biting her lip between gnawing teeth and spoke. "I.... It's... my first time here." she stumbled over that bit, clawing for a personality she could use in their game. Pulling pieces of the persona together out of thin air, smiling to herself at the light hearted fun of it.

[Pi dArtois]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Elliot d’Artois> Elliot grinned broadly and tucked his wayward hair behind his ears. There was a luster to it, the kind of health that a woman might envy in the hair of a man. It had something to do with his good mood, he supposed. His visage always did seem to depend, somewhat, on his mood. "Well, then, we'll have to make a good impression," he said. He strode to the little cabinet hidden beneath the counter, the key for it always around his neck. He opened it, and retrieved one of the more expensive bottles of blood - one of the ones from Ariadne's winery. He plucked a crystal clear glass, sparkling in the dim light, from the rack behind him. He put the glass down in front of Pi, and poured the drink with a professional flourish. "Bar's most expensive drop, on the house. Just for you," he said. He put a cap on the bottle, but didn't put it away just yet. "The name's Lancaster," he said, holding out a hand. "And yours?"


<Pi d’Artois> “Papillon Girard” she said automatically. Frowning quickly she realised what she’d done, her gaze rising to Elliot’s in surprise, unknowingly making her look like the epitome of startled innocence, the French name of her youth rolling off her tongue with a strong lilt of her past. The r rolled languidly from her tongue as she spoke the name she hadn't considered her own in a very long time. . “Papi… Papi for short.” She finished breathlessly.

Yes, awkward she could do. Someone who wasn’t used to attention and didn’t believe it even when faced with it head on. Her smile was small and suspicious, a hint of secret delight tempered with a healthy hint of nervousness. Yes, this was something she remembered, something ephemeral from a past she had buried long ago. Yet she continued, bringing out the young woman she had been before she’d hardened. The one with a tentative trust and a small slim hope. She ran a nervous hand through her hair, brushing her fingers to the tips and holding onto the fine strands, playing with them absently. It was an old movement, one of a younger Pi. Slowly she reached out a hand, letting hers get swallowed whole by those spindle fingers with calloused guitar hardened tips. “Nice to meet you Lancaster.”


<Elliot d’Artois> The smile on Elliot's lips radiated with genuine warmth. There were reasons why he was attracted to Pi, her accent definitely one of them. The way her childhood name rolled from her tongue caused in him instant affection. This is why this game was so fun. It allowed them to remember the small things. "Pleasure's all mine, Papi," he said, bringing her small, soft hand to his lips. He'd never really been this forward. He'd never really picked women up - not in the usual manner. He let go of her hand after a small squeeze. He continued to lean against the bar with his hip in a languid, lazy posture. "You should try the wine," he said.


<Pi d’Artois> She'd forgotten all about the wine. Her gaze had followed the path of her hand, watching avidly as his lips touched her skin, her fingers curling unconciously in reaction to his touch. Her eyes dilated even though she didn't know they did, darkened as they dropped to her hand, released now and making its way back to her as if it travelled by its own will. The lingering feel of skin against skin burned her senses. Lifting her gaze to meet his she grinned, lips stretched to reveal white teeth, her eyes sparkling. “I… forgot about the wine.” She blurted out honestly, another small window opened to the unaffected response of the woman, either young or old, both now molding into the one moment. Automatically she drew the cup to her lips, watching him eagerly as she set the expensive glass to her lower lip and tipping it slowly.

With a smile she let the glass linger, her lips opening slowly, letting a small sip of liquid through, slowly, drawing out the movement. Just as slowly she dropped the glass, pulling her lower lip into her mouth to pull the wine from there too. Then smiled, a snap of emotion sparking across her face as she tried her own hand at seduction.


<Elliot d’Artois> Let's face it - the game was never really going to last very long. Everything about her in that moment was endearing. The red smear of the wine on her lips, which she proceeded to suck away, just by pulling that lip into her mouth. There was something about the curves, a musicality to the sight of her that Elliot only ever wanted to try to replicate. His own tongue smoothed over his lips as his gaze dropped from the curve of her lips to the curve of her neck. How long had it been since he'd fed from that vein, hidden beneath that porcelain skin? He cleared his throat and again leaned forward, as if conspiratorially. "Look, Papi. I've never done this before, but I feel like there's a spark between you and I. Undeniable. Never thought I believed in love at first sight but here I am. Never met you before. But I'll say it. I love you. Do you feel like joining me in the office?" he asked, head cocking to the door behind him, hair falling over his eyes at the sharpness of the movement. Those eyes that were both soft and sharp at the same time, inquisitive and just a tiny bit mischievous.


<Pi d’Artois> Papi’s eyes widened at the question, the immediate response was one of shocked sensibilities, gulping past the knot of nervous anticipation that fell straight to her stomach like a hot rock. But it was Pi that stood, her fingers letting go of the glass, leaving it on the bar. Pi really wanted to climb right over the bar and launch herself at him, wrap her legs around his waist and monkey climb him like her personal jungle gym and attach her lips to his. Instead she leaned over the bar, eye twinkling, the woman now firmly in control and this woman knew exactly what she wanted. “Aaahhh…” she started with a Gaelic shrug. “It’s not … something I have done. Either. But….” She continued. “I… love you too.” She answered, “It feels like I always have.” Reaching out a slim finger she traced along the top of his hand, drawing circles on his skin. “It feels like I always have. Always will.” Pulling away from the bar she tosses him a look over her shoulder, making her way with a hip swinging stride towards the closed door she’d just entered through moments before. She expected him to follow. With one last look, her hand on the door she turned the handle and arched her eyebrow at him, her smile firmly in place.


<Elliot d’Artois> Elliot left the glass on the bar, too. The glass, and the bottle of blood. Ever since Pi had said she was going to join Tytonidae he'd thrown caution to the wind. Nothing bad had come of it, just yet, and a broiling desire overtook all senses, anyway. There was no doubt at all that he was attracted to Pi, always would be, through thick and thin. She teased him with her touch, before slouching off toward the door, a minx in the making. She hardly made it through when he was behind her, arm arching over her head to push it open, to usher her through, to slam it closed and lock it, tight. He turned her so that he could lift her, so that he could push her onto the desk, heedless of whatever fell to the floor. He kissed her again, hard and fast, impatient for the touch and taste of her lips. "I missed you too, Pi. So ******* much," he said against her lips, fingers tangled around the back of her neck as he held her close - a thirsty man who has finally been given some water.


<Pi d’Artois> There was no thought of solitude when she was near him and the idea of it now seemed ridiculous. Threading her hands through his hair Pi pushed herself up even as she pulled into his kiss and welcomed his touch. Her lips moved against his and she curled her body up into his. With an impatient hand she pushed paper onto the floor, made herself a space on the desk and wrapped her legs around him and slowly as if in slow motion she pulled him back and down with her as she fell back. “So ******* much.” She echoed against his lips. And then there was no talking, because there were no need for words and she didn’t have the concentration to do more that indulge every little tactile whim. And did. Repeatedly and thoroughly. She’d tell him about Tytonidae afterwards. In his arms, in their bed in whatever abode they ended up in, and she would let him hear her irritation and anger and frustration at her lack of direction. But after this moment, and after the next and the one that followed even that one. When replete all they could do was lie in an exhausted heap. Yes, she’d tell him all that then, but right now. Right now there was just.. this. Very much, just this.

[Catherine Nilson]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
Catherine Nilson: "Did you try to talk to them?" Cat asked. Mushrooms might help communicate with spirits, but maybe not. She still took notes, in case it would help Doc.
Vasik: "I didn't. I just stared back as it stared into me. I felt... some sort of familiarity with it though. I looked down at myself, feeling cold in my fingers, and saw this blackish, crude-looking armor all over me. The eyes were growing closer, the shadow bigger. I took a pencil beside me which began to melt with my armor until I was naked in a pool of purpleish metallic goo, stuck and struggling as if I were in tar. Everything seemed hot but I was so cold. The eyes just got closer and closer, discriminating me." Logan turned towards the wall.
Catherine Nilson: Cat continued to pet him. "Thanks for telling me about it," she said. "You're very brave."
Vasik: "I'm not, but thanks." Vasik felt comforted by her touch. The kitten mewled at the lack of attention she was getting. "I feel like there's more, but I can't remember anything except being inside jaws and trying to fight my way between the teeth like bars of a prison. But that's it. It was... quite an experience."
Catherine Nilson: "I did all kinds of drugs and never had a bad trip like that," Cat said, trying to smile.
Vasik: "Lucky." He released a light chuckle and turned back to face Cat. "I guess it was the shrooms. I got them from a guy who knew a guy. One of those things, you know?"
Catherine Nilson: "Live and learn," she agreed with a lopsided smile.
Vasik: "Haha! Live. What a strange word." Logan chuckling, a rare site indeed although it was in spite.
Catherine Nilson: "Such a downer," she teased him.
Vasik: "Yup, that's me. When you're not sure you're going to exist much longer, that's the mood you get."
Catherine Nilson: Cat thought about it. "But if you and Vasik became the same person, that wouldn't mean not existing. Would it?"
Vasik: Logan sat up in the couch abruptly. "Became the same person? What are you talking about?" Logan was surprised, confused, and slightly scared. "To meld such personalities... would be catastrophic, would it not?"
Catherine Nilson: "Don't know. Never tried," Cat said. "And you're not an experiment to me or anything, so I wouldn't worry about it."
Vasik: "I appreciate it... although..." He thought for a moment. "Living together would be better than not existing at all, and eternity in the Shadow Realm."
Catherine Nilson: "I've never been, but you'd be there a week tops," Cat remarked. "They come back after a week if they're strong enough."
Vasik: "That's what I'm afraid of," Logan said in a low hum. "What if I don't come back? What if I'm not strong enough?"
Catherine Nilson: "I don't know," Cat fretted. "Nobody really knows."
Vasik: Logan noticed her distress. "I don't mean to put you on the spot, it's alright. There's just a lot to think about right now." Lelu head-booped Cat's arm for attention, purring like a motor.
Catherine Nilson: Cat smiled a little and petted the cat, attention returning to the feline.
Vasik: "Hey!" Logan jested. He loved people petting his hair; he wasn't sure why. He looked over at the kitten. He was happy that he and Vasik at least had something in common.
Catherine Nilson: "Jealous of the cat? I see how it is," she laughed.
Vasik: Logan smirked a little. "I guess so." He reached over to scratch behind Lelu's ear. "I'm jealous of both Cats."
Catherine Nilson: Cat looked at Logan. "You mean me?"
Vasik: "Yeah, a little. You seem like you have everything figured out, even though we have similar issues." Vasik didn't look up at Cat, only focused on Lelu.
Catherine Nilson: "Not everything," Cat said. Then she sighed. "I just distract myself with projects. To be honest."
Vasik: "Well, I still admire you." Logan loved building the connection with his loving sire. It was a strange thing in vampire kind to see such kindness, so he had heard, and he would cherish it every moment. It wasn't like he got support from any other outlet.
Catherine Nilson: Cat's easygoing smile widened. "Thanks." She didn't want to lose Logan, or Vasik. She didn't want them to fight either. They were making such progress together.
Vasik: "So is that all you need?" He could feel awkwardness emanating from the comment he made. A sweet uncomfortableness. Still, he wanted Cat to stick around more. He didn't get much time in control of his body anymore since Vasik had been using it for business and thefts.
Catherine Nilson: "Yep. Is there anything you need either?" Cat asked. The cat had curled up on her lap asleep and was purring like an engine. Cat didn't realize, but she had the Animal Affinity trait. They loved her.
Vasik: "Not really, but you should stop by more often. I miss you being around. It gives me more time to be me, you know?" Logan hesitated. "And maybe, we could, talk more about options for us."
Catherine Nilson: Cat blinked. "Options? Like what options."
Vasik: "If there's anything I should do about separating or melding us, you know..." He danced around the specifics awkwardly.
Catherine Nilson: Cat thought about it. "I have some theories, but like I said, you're not a guinea pig. There could be serious permanent things."
Vasik: "Yeah... I just want to make sure Vasik doesn't off me before we figure out a compromise, you know?" Logan shivered at the thought of being 'offed' and in the realm of shadow.
Catherine Nilson: Cat would have to pry with Doc about that. Hopefully the old man wasn't planning anything. He could burn bridges so well. She nodded, "That would suck. But don't worry, I don't think he has any leads. And he knows I'd be mad at him."
Vasik: "He says ohh I feel so threatened, haha." Logan looked down to the floor. His portrayal of Vasik was very poor.
Catherine Nilson: Cat was confident enough in her ability to boss Vasik around that she ignored Vasik's response. She relaxed instead, enjoying the atmosphere.
Vasik: Logan got up from his couch. "Wait here, I'll bring you something to drink." A few minutes went by and he returned with two, not one, margarita glasses filled with the dark vitae.
Catherine Nilson: Cat took her glass and sniffed it, then sighed happily. "This smells great. Did you get it from that winery?" The vampire owned one. She sipped it.
Vasik: "Vasik has his ways... this is actually compliments of the bartender this batch. Only the freshest for my sire." Logan wanted to appear that he had grown, but sipped from the glass hesitantly. He hated the idea of drinking human blood, but after meeting Doc, he had to make some inner compromises in the presence of Cat.
Catherine Nilson: "Thanks," she said and drank some more. The easygoing vampire didn't really care that he didn't like hurting people, she thought it was a preference thing. Her sire was a hardass but he wasn't the one who'd accidentally turned Vasik.
Vasik: Logan set his drink on a side table, twiddling his thumbs around, avoiding drinking more. He couldn't deny that it tasted undeniably fresh and invigorating, but he resisted. He must resist. It's what separated him from Vasik, he thought to himself. What an existence he had. He thought back to a time without such conflicting dilemmas, before... ...before everything had changed. Before he had to struggle for his right to survive.
Catherine Nilson: Cat watched Vasik and thought about the night she'd turned him.

[Madison]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Madison: "I probably enjoy this more than I should," she responded honestly to Elliot's question about whether she was having fun in the raid. There currently weren't any of the beasts around them so she had her weapon lowered. Any other time she would have put it away but knowing that at any moment one of the creatures could come around the corner, she didn't. "How are you faring?"

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot gave a bow, dark hair falling over his eyes as the smirk danced at the corners of his lips. "Touché," he said. Madison wasn't wrong. She probably did enjoy it more than he did, on the surface. He gave a shrug. "Good. Can't say much is happening to say yay or nay," he added. "If you think I don't enjoy this, why do you think I'm here?" he asked, devilishly curious.

Madison: "I never said I thought you didn't," Madison said with a bit of a teasing tone. The telepath had seen Lancaster in almost every raid she'd ever been in. They often acknowledged one another when they saw each other. "Have you been to the Den lately?" she asked him, changing the subject.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot arches a brow. His own sword hands limply in his hand, the tip pointed toward the floor. It might appear as if he's not paying any attention, but at a moment's notice that sword would be erect and ready to chop the head off anyone or anything that might seek to harm him. The change in topic was unexpected. He shrugged his shoulders. "Sure. I pass through when I need to go somewhere - the portals are useful. I don't hang around though. Why?" he asked, still curious. Always curious.

Madison: The blonde shrugged, "Just keep finding myself there often lately. Mostly because as you said, the place and portals are useful but I noticed that it seems pretty empty more often than not." She left out that the place still made her feel uncomfortable or that she stared at the floor every time she passed through and still wondered who had taken the time to clean up her blood. For the most part, it was just laziness on her part that she didn't go somewhere else or absolute need that the only thing she was able to do was tome into the entrance and collapse out of exhaustion.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot remained curious as to the path of the conversation. Was she commenting on the lack of activity of the family? The seeming absence? It was nothing new to Elliot. How many had he turned? And he never saw any of them. Not really. But she'd also asked whether he, specifically, visited the Den often. "I'm at the pub most of the time. If you need me for anything, I'm there. Or you can always call me. Is everything okay?" he asked, always quick to want to aid those who might be in trouble.

Madison: The pub. That didn't surprise her. She hadn't been there since he'd asked her to meet Zane. Didn't really need to when she could do all her work from home. "Haven't had any troubles with hackers have you? I don't seem to get alerts when someone breaches the security system. I've been meaning to look into that but everything has seemed well as of late." Madison paused, realizing she hadn't answered his question, "Yeah, everything is fine I guess. Same old ****, different day."

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot shook his head. "No, no problems. Not for a while," he said. Madison was in his employ to help with the security of the computer systems, and if he had any trouble he wouldn't hesitate to call her. He nodded, slowly. Same ****, different day - it didn't sound to reassuring, but nor did it sound as if she were in need of urgent help. Elliot relaxed, then, on that front. "Yeah, I dunno. I suppose no one's around much to use the Den," he added, touching on the other reason why he thought Madison might have brought it up.

Madison: Madison nodded in acknowledgment, "I started staying elsewhere since, well, you know." She gave a shrug. Out of everyone in d'Artois, other than her own childer, Lan was really the only one she gave a **** about. Though Asteria, as rarely as she was around, was up there too. "I think its hard sometimes, for most people, to come into this life and be told 'Hey, this is your new family'. Especially when there's nothing that ties them together but the fact that when you trace back the blood, it all leads to one person."

Elliot d'Artois: "I'm realised that myself," Elliot said. He glanced around, to make sure that they weren't going to be summarily pounced on by one of the hulking Mooncalves. "There's a room at the top of the pub where I stay," Elliot said. Either there or at the crypt, he and Pi having once again put their differences aside because they loved each other too damned much. He was often with her, just not in the Den. "It's why I'm not tossing myself into everyone's business anymore. I never really was a family man. Makes sense I'm not too good at trying to create one," he added with a smirk.

Madison: Pale blue eyes followed Elliot's gaze around the room, not seeing anything of immediate danger. She listened to what he had to say with a nod and wondered if everyone in d'Artois had just given up on the idea of a family. While she herself had for the most part given up on them becoming what she could consider family, Madison hadn't quite given up on the idea of forming some kind of family-like group. "Are you and Pi still a thing then?" By thing she meant couple and she was realizing quickly that she didn't have much to talk about besides make small talk.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot's brows arched and he nodded. "We are," he said, watching Madison carefully to gauge her reaction. "The woman has her faults, I know. We do have a lot that we disagree on," he added, to reassure Madison if she needed reassuring. "But I can't help myself," he said with a small smile.

Madison: She nodded when he said that they were, but her eyes started to wander when he went on to comment further. When he said he couldn't help himself, she couldn't help the smirk that made a quick appearance across her lips before going back to an impassive state. It was possible that part of her envied that fact that he could feel that away about someone, even if it was Pi. "At least you have someone," was all that he got in response.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot frowned. "I was about to ask that question," Elliot asked. It seemed to be a fallback, where small talk was concerned. People started talking about their partners - or asked whether there were any in the picture. "I never really put much stock in it, you know. Needing to have someone in your life to make it full," he said, narrowing his eyes a little as he gazed into the distance. He himself had never really had anything permanent. Nothing life shattering, anyway.

Madison: "Nope, it's just me, myself and I. Nothing new on that front." There was a lace of bitterness sewn into her words. It was part of the reason she hadn't been home to Luffy's apartment for the past few weeks. Part of her was avoiding him and after she'd gotten nosy, like she usually was and seen that her last boyfriend that had helped kill her was now eternally bound, for some reason the only thing she wanted to do was put a bullet through his big, fat, egocentric forehead.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot could feel the bitterness washing across the space in waves; he could feel what Madison could feel. This was one area within which he could not help, however. Though he did shift idly on his feet. "Want me to set you up? Heaps of people come through that bar... I could be your personal match-maker," he says, at least trying to joke, to at least try to make her feel a little better.

Madison: "I'm not exactly keen on random bar hook-ups," she said in all seriousness though she knew, or hoped, that he was joking. Madison was still coming to terms with the realization that she just wasn't a people person and never truly had been. While a social butterfly in her younger years, it was easy to have friends when all that they really had in common was the quest to escape their pitiful realities through drugs and alcohol. Deciding to change the subject once again, she told Elliot something she'd only told Lyana yet so far, "I'm moving out of the city."

Elliot d'Artois: Again, the change of subject caught Elliot off guard - this time not because the change was jarring, but because of the subject. "How do you mean?" he asked. There was a way things worked in Harper Rock. If you died outside of the city, you were dead. There was no coming back. The further away you got from whatever magical properties the city itself exuded, the less you were privy to its protective properties. "Out, out? Like... as far away as you can get?" he asked.

[Lancaster]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Madison: Madison shook her head in a negative fashion, "No, though the thought was tempting. As long as I have childer here, I'll remain in the area. While I may not coddle them, they are still my responsibility to make sure they learn what they need to and have someone to turn to." A shuffling sound caught her attention and Madison's weapon was raised without hesitation but before she could even get a shot off, another vampire that she didn't recognize took the kill.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot, too, tensed at the sound. He watched curiously as someone else took out the creature - he liked to watch things a little too closely, sometimes. When he turned back to Madison it was with the same curious glint to his eyes. "Ah, so you mean just... into the wilderness. Don't you worry about the fae?" he asked. He'd had a run in with the fae once. Never, ever again. If he went out into the wilderness, it was only as a Dingo. He hadn't done that in a long time. Maybe it was about time he did it again, soon.

Madison: She watched silently as the creature collapsed onto the floor and the vampire took its trophy from the corpse. Seemed to be something they all had in common. Taking trophies from their kills. She often wondered if it was something instinctual to whatever it was that made them what they were. Looking back to Elliot, she nodded in response to his comment about the wilderness and then gave a slight shrug when he mentioned the fae. "They probably won't be too pleased with me. I've had excavation crews out there for about a month now, surveying and taking estimates. But the city isn't exactly safe from the fae either. I'm assuming you've been in at least one of those buildings with creatures with powers similar to ours."

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot nodded. "I suppose you have a point," he said. The dangers within the city far outweighed the dangers outside of it. He wondered whether it might be a nice idea, himself - get out, live in the peace and the quiet. But he wasn't sure that was him, either. He'd always been at the city centres when he travelled. Always where the people were. He wasn't a solitary creature, not really. Sure, he had travelled the world alone, but he had found friends in every corner of it. It didn't ever feel like he was alone. Stuck here, sometimes, he felt more alone than ever. "Going to throw a housewarming party, then?"

Madison: An eyebrow raised into her forehead and she scoffed a bit, "A housewarming party? No, highly unlikely. I'm hoping to get away from the ****, not invite it to map out my new digs." She paused for a second before the next words came out, spoken just under her breath, "I just want somewhere to feel safe again."

Elliot d'Artois: Again, the attempt at lightening the mood failed completely. As much as Elliot preferred only to be happy - had even cut all the **** out of his life in order to be happy, and it had worked - he couldn't very well ignore the unhappiness of others. "Fair enough," he said. He wouldn't begrudge her that. "So... I guess it's not something you've told a lot of people about, then?" he asked. Normally safe havens were accompanied by secrecy.

Madison: Happiness wasn't something Madison had thought of in longer than she could remember. If someone asked her, she probably couldn't even tell them the last time she had truly laughed and it not have been sarcastic. The last two years had pretty much turned her into a cold and bitter robot. The only time she ever felt anything outside of apathy was when she was hunting...or killing something but it was still monotonous unless the thing she was killing was a person. Be it human or vampire. Once again she shook her head, "Just you and Lyana."

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot nodded. He wouldn't tell anyone else about Madison's plans to move outside of the city. His gaze swept the room again, lost in thought for a couple of seconds, before he returned his attention to Madison. "Well, I'm glad you're not leaving entirely," he said, always with complete honesty. He lacked the ability to lie.

Madison: Her brow twitched towards the center of her face in a slight look of skepticism. She didn't know Elliot couldn't lie and she lacked the ability at times to think before she spoke. The question was out of her mouth as it crossed her mind, "What difference would it make?"

Elliot d'Artois: He thought about the question. "I know we don't talk much, Madison, but when we do we agree on things. And we don't argue. And I don't feel disgust listening to what you say about certain things. You know how many people I can say that for? Not very ******* many," he said. "It'd make me sad to think that another like-mind has left the city," he added.

Madison: For the first time since the beginning of their conversation Madison smiled but it was small and it was sad. She could relate to everything that he had just said because she felt the same way. The amount of people she could stand to be around she could probably count on one hand. "Perhaps the ones that have left are the smart ones."

Elliot d'Artois: "Maybe," Elliot said with a frown. But then he kicked himself, internally. He rolled his shoulders and tried on a smile. "I've spent far too long being a depressed piece of ****, though," he admitted, quite casually. It wasn't something he was proud of but it wasn't something he was ashamed of, either. He was very honest about himself and his own feelings with others. He felt he was obligated to give back as much as he took - and he couldn't help the way he knew exactly how everyone else was feeling. "I'd prefer not to think about how things could be better, anymore, and instead just think about the things that I have that make me happy," he says. "Try it out. It's a good way to be," he said.

Madison: "And what are you supposed to do when you don't know what makes you happy anymore?" It was an honest question. There was nothing that she could say that made her happy. A few fleeting moments here and there but mostly it was just piles of **** everywhere she turned. Her relationship with her sire, with her extended line, her childer. There hadn't been a human family to worry about since even before she was turned and she didn't feel like thinking about the events that had led to this existence.

Elliot d'Artois: "You find something," Elliot said. It was as simple as that. He frowned down at Madison. She didn't strike him as the type who'd do anything stupid; he wanted to be able to help her, but he couldn't. He couldn't read her mind, couldn't guess at what might make her happy. "Find something you're passionate about and throw yourself into it. Pick up an instrument. Write. I dunno, anything," he said.

Madison: "Yeah...sure." She bit her tongue on the rest of her thoughts. That if it were truly that simple and easy, she wouldn't be having this conversation with him. Elliot's depressive bouts she knew nothing about but even if she did, she wouldn't be able to relate. Depression sure, that she knew but she wasn't suicidal. Going through life the way she was, was better than the shadow realm.

Elliot d'Artois: Elliot's frown deepened. She wasn't arguing with him, but he got the distinct feeling she didn't agree completely, either. He sighed and pushed his free hand through his hair. "I wish I could help you, Madison, but I can't. Not for that, anyway," he said, genuinely sorry that he couldn't help. He remembered the way it felt to walk around, so unsure of everything and failing to find happiness in the usual things. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Madison: "It's alright, no one can," she lied through her teeth. 'Because no one ever tries,' was the thought in her head. She shrugged and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. This conversation wasn't helping her any and really she didn't feel like having it anymore. Shifting the strap across her chest, she attached her rifle to it and put it back where it belong across her back before pulling the short-sword at her hip from its sheath. She wasn't the best with a sword but currently, she felt like getting close and personal with what she killed.

Elliot d'Artois: It's as if a wall was thrown up, and by the way Madison moved Elliot got the hint. He was an observant guy. "Right, well. I suppose I should let you get going," he said. There were beasts to kill. They weren't here to catch up, were they? They were here to ... well, he was there to indulge that urge he had for violence, to keep it at bay so it doesn't snap and he slaughter some unsuspecting innocent for looking at him wrong. The guilt would crush him. He wouldn't let that happen. "I'll see you around, yeah? Come visit me at the pub," he suggested.

Madison: "It's a small town," she said and forced a smile, nodding in response to visiting in the pub. They both knew that she probably wouldn't. Especially not after a talk like this one. No one liked a buzz-kill. "Have a good night, Elliot."

[Kainai dArtois]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

‹Pi dArtois› Pi put the phone down, her smile a small thing as she remembered how long it has been since her and Ruth had really talked. Maybe not long after that debacle at Doc & Cyth's wedding, which had turned into a real debacle by the sounds of it. If what Elliot had told her had any truth in it, Doc was a hell of a lot darker than she expected and she had expected a lot. Lots and lots. That, was no man who should be married... to anyone. So maybe it was a good thing Cyth was mostly absent and maybe it was an even better thing that Ruth hadn't been the one to throw her immortality away on him. Pi wasn't sure how she'd have reacted to Doc's duplicity. She's still not sure how she would react now. Probably ask him what the truth was.

‹Kainai dArtois› The truth was, Ruth loved Doc like he was her own childe, but he revealed himself to be a serial killer. The gentle natured woman could not bring herself to even think about this, and had spent some time just absorbing herself in her work and not thinking about things too seriously. Her businesses were successful and she was learning new powers, life had been good but it was difficult to be happy, just content with what she had. When she recieved the text from Pi, she tomed to the depot right away and sat beside her sister. "Hello. Thank you for calling me here."

‹Pi dArtois› She wore her standard uniform in the summer, since she had come straight from Lancaster's it was a casual sort of uniform she wore for the bar. As part owner that meant she indulged in a skirt, casual, with deep pocekts and a tank top that wasn't form fitting, but loose and casual too. Her hair, longer now, brown with highlights of golden like she was sun kissed (although she hadn't seen the sun in an age) touched her shoulders. She hadn't got it cut like she had intended. Might never. She turned at Ruth's voice and smiled. "It had been too long i think Ruth... way too long. Although I had seen you in passing here... it wasn't the same." Moving to a set of chairs placed in the middle of the room, incongruous since the place was mostly portals and unfurnished. "You've been well?" she asked, indicating to the other seat.

‹Kainai dArtois› Ruth nodded understandingly. "Yes. I still feel badly for what happened. You should never have seen me like that. But, it is time to move on, isn't it? Put all of that unpleasantness behind us?" She spoke as if it was simple, but avoiding it and letting it go were two different things, and it would take more effort on Ruth's part to be a part of the family again.

‹Pi dArtois› Pi nodded, knowing exactly what Ruth was talking about (because she'd just been thinking about it two second earlier) and she laid out a hand to touch Ruth's in understanding before shifting her position in the chair so she was comfortable. "It's already forgotten Ruth. And it's in the past." Pi confirmed to the woman she thought of as her sister. The other one like her, who was abandoned by an inactive and absent sire. It made Pi wonder how different she would have turned out if her own mother had had another child, someone for Papi Girard to look after. Would she have turned out the same. Would Papi have learned to love at an early age instead of learning to distrust and hide what and who she was. Pi shook off the thought, glad only that she had a sister now. Now being all tha mattered. "I really just wanted to make sure you were managing. We don't have a sire that's active, or a bloodline that gives a ****... so that means we should keep in check with one another and I know I've been bad at that."