Path of the Vampire forum

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

<Peter Parkman> [OOC Attire ]

<Peter Parkman> The piece of paper fluttered uselessly in Peter’s hand. He stood on the corner of a street, staring down at the list of ‘abilities’ he was supposed to be capable of, either immediately or at some point in the future. It was all well and good reading about them, but putting them into practice? Not quite as easy. It was all well and good knowing what they were, but how in hell does one ‘activate’ them? Just think about it, and make it happen? He folded the piece of paper and strode across the road. There was a boardwalk, and beyond, the river. But the water was frozen. There goes that power. Can’t test until the water started to melt. He shook his head. Maybe he should just wait, and see if they happen instinctually. Right?

The five dogs all nuzzled and huffed around him. The steam billowed from their noses, but not from Peter’s. He’d been neglecting his pets, and he thought it was high time he took them for a stroll. He’d brought them into the city. He’d have to take them all the way home, before the night was ended. Two Jack Russells, a blonde Border Collie, a Great Dane, and a Huskie. They were his children, and they calmed him. He leaned against the railing, expression set into deep thought, chin resting in his palm.


<Jersey> She hadn't been able to sleep, walking quietly away from her hotel room as she huddled down more into the down filled jacket she had found in the bag that had given back to her once she left the hospital. Along with the clothes, she had found only a recipe book and a photo album that held little indication to who she actually was. The faces meant nothing to her now without the names, even if she could tell the people in the pictures meant something to her back then. In the few weeks that she had been in Harper Rock, or at least the conscious weeks, Jersey had noticed that the night life in the city seemed pretty active. 'Strange even this late...' She chewed on her bottom lip, watching a couple stumble off elsewhere. She had to avoid snickering when one of them slipped before hurrying along before she was noticed. Reaching up to reposition her hood and earmuffs, she shivered. What was she thinking, going outside?

Wincing as she felt the cloth tug on the bandage over the stitches resting above her left eyebrow, she sighed loudly and continued to walk along the boardwalk, looking over the frozen water in thought before her attention was drawn to the group in front of her and a small chuckle escaped past her lips at the sight of all the dogs. It was definitely not something she saw every day, really. "Excuse me," She spoke, "Not meaning to bother you, but how do you manage to stay so warm?" She asked, thinking it was just a trick of her mind that she wasn't seeing his breath on the air. With how her head was, she wasn't sure.


<Peter Parkman> Peter was a skittish man, and had he not heard her coming he might have jumped. Though, he was a little surprised when she asked to be excused - he glanced sideways, almost assuming that she was talking to someone else. When he realised she was looking right at him, however, Peter could only blink. A few long seconds passed. "Uuuh," his voice was deep, and uncertain. He glanced down at himself, and then at the dogs, and then around, as if the weather were a visible that he could assess. He couldn't. "I'm just uhm. Local. I ah... I'm used to it?" he said. He remembered Keara's warnings. This girl was definitely very human. It freaked him out that he could tell, just by looking at her. "The dogs are my personal heaters. They create a forcefield around me," he added, laughing awkwardly in the hope that the joke would derail her, keep her from questioning him too much.


<Jersey> She was surprised when he was quiet for a few moments, but said nothing as she pulled the gloves down more over her hands. She definitely, if she ever found a job, would need to invest in a new pair. Tucking her hands away into her jacket pocket, she watched the man look around in amusement. "Well... that would simply explain it all." She frowned. If she had figured it out right, she was from New Jersey and it was cold there, though... Maybe she wasn't from there after all. Chuckling at the joke, she gave a light smile and nodded her head. "Interesting enough. They all look very sweet." How did he take care of them all?


<Peter Parkman> "Well they are," Peter said, probably a bit too quickly. Better to have her distracted by the all too normal dogs than by the man who wasn't quite human and who had to hide it. He instantly crouched down, and the dogs all scuttled toward him, tails wagging. He shared a pat between them all, and invited the woman to crouch down too, if she wanted to meet them. He pointed to the Jack Russels: This is Jack and Ellie," he said, gesturing first to the one with the blue collar, then the one with the pink. "This here is Hunter," he continued, throwing an arm around the massive Great Dane. "This is KD," he said, next pointing to the blonde Border Collie - KD was a bit over-excited, and always was. "And last but not least, we have Lady," he finished, removing his arm from the Great Dane to ruffle the hair between the Husky's ears.


<Jersey> It was an instinct to lift her eyebrow and immediately, she regretted it as the pain shot through her temple and she reached up to rub at the bandage on her forehead while he'd moved. Once it passed, she moved to copy his action, carefully setting one of her gloved hands down so she wouldn't fall over. Even then, she still wobbled before she set her knee against the cold ground. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," She gave a small grin to the dogs, and then lifted her gaze to the strange man, "I'm Jersey." She had practiced the introduction enough to make it seem fluid, natural, and was pleased to hear the outcome being just that.


<Peter Parkman> Peter laughed, the sound low and genuine--self mocking, if it was at all possible for a laugh to sound that way. He rubbed his own forehead before he held out his own gloved hand. "That would be just like me, to introduce the dogs before introducing myself," he said. "Peter," his own introduction fluid and natural, where once it hadn't been. He gestured to the bandage over Jersey's eye; "Did you have a bit of an accident?" he asked, curious, and glad that the topic had definitely shifted. Would even prefer that it stay shifted, and that she would not ask him too many questions about himself.


<Jersey> She took hold of his hand with her own when she was positive she wouldn't topple over and gave it a friendly shake. "Pleasure to meet you as well, Peter." She smiled and then moved her hand to steady herself once more as she gave a slow nod. "I was in a bus accident a few weeks back. Head went against a window." She explained lightly.


<Peter Parkman> Peter cringed a little as he tried to imagine it - as he imagined anyone might cringe at being told another had been in a bus accident rather than just having tripped over, or something. "That's harsh. I always did wonder about that. They go on and on about kids and making sure they wear their seatbelts but do they have seatbelts in buses? No," he started. He was rather good at talking a bit too much, if given half the chance. He realised, too, that it was a tiny bit awkward chattering to Jersey while crouched down near the dogs. He stood up. "Anyway. I suppose you're glad you came out of it with just a bit of bump on the head?" he asked, already mentally slapping himself. There were far too many things that could go wrong in this conversation.


<Jersey> Petting each dog on the head, she stood up slowly and moved to lean against the railing lightly after he had stood and listened to him. She hadn't really talked to anyone in a while aside from the cashier at the grocery store or a curious person on a transit when she got dizzy. She still felt bad about getting sick and ruining some poor man's shoes. "Partly. I don't remember much before the accident." That was a bit of a lie, she didn't remember anything. "Or well. I remember it and a few moments before it. Other than that, it's blank." She admitted before adding, "It's alright though. I like puzzles."


<Peter Parkman> Peter's green eyes widened, his jaw going slack just a little bit. His head was reeling. She seemed so blase about the fact that she couldn't remember a damned thing about who she was before the accident. Immediately he compared her life change to his. Well, he'd had two, really. The relocation, and then the whole vampire thing. Of course, he couldn't tell Jersey about either of them. He snapped his mouth shut, blinked, and shook his head. "Nothing? I mean... how do you get by...?" he asked, unable to curb his curiosity. "But you remember your name?" he asked, the sliver of hope in his voice.


<Jersey> She reached up and idly adjusted her bandage lightly before she chewed on her bottom lip. "Selling trinkets," She didn't have to exactly say what type of trinkets, or how she got them, "and certain skills stayed. I cook really well." She scratched at her head beneath the hat she wore and as she studied his features, having heard the hope, she hesitated and opened her mouth to speak before she shook it afterwards. Her action caused her to stop immediately after. "Found a bus ticket."


<Peter Parkman> "Oh," Peter said. He didn't quite know what to say or do. It was as if this Jersey was a stray, and he felt the need to take her in, just as he had done the majority of his dogs. Jack and Ellie had started to wrestle with each other. Hunter and Lady had laid down. KD was restless, as per usual, and trotted over to start licking Jersey's shoe. He couldn't exactly take her in. Not in his...current state. "Good," he said, and then cringed. "Uhm..." he glanced over his shoulder, and then back again. "I can buy you a hot chocolate?" he asked. That could at least buy him some time.


<Jersey> "Like I said... I kind of like the puzzle pieces about it, trying to figure out who I was, what I did." She gave Peter a small and light smile, showing that she was primarily okay about it before she looked down and watched the dogs. Afterwards she reached down and brushed her fingertips through KD's fur. She chuckled and then looked up when he began to speak once more. The offer surprised her and she tightened her jacket lightly around her form before she gave a small nod of her head, "That would be nice, thank you." She'd have to think of some way to repay him for it, too. Even if just at a later date.


<Peter Parkman> There was a place he knew down the street, not too far away. He'd have to tie the dogs up outside; the girl looked freezing, and so he wouldn't subject her to taking an outside seat, if there even were any. He gestured in the direction of the cafe, and began to walk. The dogs shuffled and scuffed around him - he was forced to jump over one of the leads and pass them from hand to another to avoid plowing head first into the snow drifts. "I admire your optimism," Peter said. And he really did. He needed a bit of that himself. Maybe if he spent a few hours in Jersey's company she might infect him with it.


<Jersey> She smiled lightly and followed after him, careful not to get in the way of his dogs as she tried not to snicker and failed. "Would you like some help?" She asked after a few moments. Afterwards, she gave a small nod of her head, "The same, it's... probably one of the most things that keep me sane. My journal being the second bit."


<Peter Parkman> Peter gave a small, slow nod. A journal. He'd never kept one of those. Maybe he should try. Might help him keep track of things, rather than keeping bits and pieces on flimsy sheets of paper that could very get lost. Without really thinking about it, he handed over the handles of a couple of the leads - Lady and KD. Peter kept the giant and the trouble twins for himself. "Pretty sure these dogs keep me sane. Can't really lose your mind if you've got some crazy mongrels to think about," he said with a smirk; the way he looked at those dogs was the way a father might look at his children, full of gleaming pride.


<Jersey> "It's nice to be able to recollect what I think of, I still hope when they find my other bag they'll have one in there." She meant the police department, of course, but with how they were with missing persons, Jersey had a feeling it wouldn't be likely. She took the leads and adjusted them around her wrist so she wouldn't fall over if they were to pull. "I've thought about seeing if gardening might help me focus on something."

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



<Peter Parkman> "Maybe meditation. Or a walk through the woods," Peter suggested. He frowned, then; that was another thing that was taken from him. He'd read all about the fae. He'd never had a problem with them before, of course, but now because of what he is, they've come out of hiding. He was safe in his cabin, but not quite in the wilderness surrounding it. It had been a mission in anxiety getting the dogs here, to the city. And it would be the exact same getting them back. Maybe he'd have to see about buying somewhere closer. That, however, suggested to him a whole new bundle of problems. He shook his head to clear it. He absently rested his hand on Hunter's head as he walked. The dog sneezed, and then lifted his muzzle for a pat. "Find a hypnotist? I've heard they've had success with patients," he offered.


<Jersey> "I still get dizzy spells, so maybe the woods might not be the best place for now." Not to mention passing out was kind of embarrassing, but she didn't think that she'd gone that far out of it yet. Maybe. She was still wary about ending back up in the hospital. "From what I've read recently, while it could, they can also implant memories and make it hard for the person to know what's really real and what's fake."


<Peter Parkman> "Oh, well. Maybe not then," Peter said, though he did wonder why any normal person would want to implant memories. Sounded like something out of that Inception movie. And could people really be that cruel? The inward question was a stupid one. A flash of memory pushed to the forefront of Peter's mind and he visibly paled, moreso than usual. Yes, yes people could be that cruel, and then some. He licked his lips and stepped off the curb to cross the road. He gestured to the warmly lit cafe on the other side. "Please don't pass out on me. The dogs might just lick you to death," he said, testing a grin.


<Jersey> Looking up when he spoke, Jersey caught sight of him paling and frowned lightly, "Are you alright?" She thought it was a little funny, too, coming from the individual that had a bandage on their forehead. Checking for black ice, Jersey then stepped down and gave a small, light snort. "Yeah, that'd be the best way for me to go." She grinned lightly down at KD and Lady. "I'll try to stay awake for your sake."


<Peter Parkman> The question startled him. "Yeah, yup. Perfectly fine," he said with a grin that was a little too broad to be genuine. His heavy feet crunched on the ice as they crossed the road. The cafe had a wide front awning, heaters set up outside to provide at least a little comfort to the passerby. It was here that Peter tied up the dogs. They might have been used to the cold, but they too could be prone to freezing. He was silent while his brain worked overtime to find something witty to say. It struggled. It failed. He cleared his throat, gloved hands fumbling with the leads as he knotted them, one after the other.


<Jersey> She lifted her uninjured eyebrow to show that she clearly didn't believe him, saying nothing otherwise while she studied the outside of the building with a small grin across her lips. When the time came, she gave him one of the leads she held, and then the other while she leaned down to scratch at the fur before straightening up once more. It didn't take much for her expression to show her amusement.


<Peter Parkman> Jersey is quiet, Peter figured out. He failed to fill the silence and she didn't throw herself into it, either. Once all the dogs were tied up he stood and offered her a small smile. He passed by her and stepped toward the door; when he opened it, a light tingle of bells could be heard. He stood a little to the side to let Jersey pass. It was only as the smell of baked goods and caffeine hit him that he realised he could not eat. Or drink. Couldn't consume anything but blood. He frowned a little to himself. Well, this was a mistake. He'd just have to... try to distract her. "Are you a marshmallow girl?" he asked after the door had closed behind them. "Or do you want a bit of coffee with your chocolate?" he asked, inching toward the counter.


<Jersey> Following after him once more, she thanked Peter in passing before she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, the warmth of the cafe allowed her muscles to relax and she gave an inner sigh of relief. "Marshmallows are fine, coffee will keep me awake even more." She considered it while she shivered when the door clipped shut, walking with quiet clicks as the heel of her boots connected against the tile.


<Peter Parkman> Peter reached the counter and stared, unblinking, at the menu overhead. He had no idea what to order given that he actually wouldn't be consuming it. And then realised he didn't actually need to spend so much time thinking about it. It was an awful habit, thinking about things a little too in depth. Even the small, insignificant things. "Uhm, I'll have just an ordinary hot chocolate, no fluff," he said as the waitress sidled up to the counter to take their order. "She'll have a hot chocolate with marshmallows...?" he said, unsure whether that was her final order or not.


<Jersey> Jersey gave a nod of her head to confirm the last bit, reaching up to remove the earmuffs that bad been surprisingly useful as she adjusted the hat she wore a bit more to conceal her bandage from habit. She made a mental note to later see if she could find a skin tone colored one later on in the day so it wouldn't look as funny. "I'll have to repay you sometime when I'm up on my feet."


<Peter Parkman> "It's not even...." Peter started, before the waitress gave him the total. Eight dollars sixty. "...it's not even five dollars. Don't worry about it," Peter said, handing over the required cash with an amiable smile. The waitress smiled back. She liked it when customers were generous. She gave Peter his change. "Take a seat, sir, and we'll bring them to you when they're ready," she said. There were only a couple of other people in the cafe. Peter gestured to the numerous empty seats, indicating that Jersey should choose.


<Jersey> "It's still a nice gesture." She shrugged lightly before she chuckled, and then moved to sit quietly after a few moments, crossing one leg over the other afterwards as she shrugged out of her coat carefully. Her body wasn't as sore, but it had moments of creeping up at her. "So... five dogs. Must be a handful."


<Peter Parkman> "Mmm," Peter mumbled, agreement in the form of a low murmur. He, too, removed his jacket to reveal a long-sleeved, plain grey t-shirt underneath. He loosened the scarf around his neck so it wasn't so stifling. Not that the change in temperature actually affected him, but he had to play the part. "But as I said, they're a good distraction. You can't let yourself go if you've got other things to care for. And besides, their good company makes up for all the hard work," he said. He opened his mouth to ask if she had any pets, and then snapped it shut, remembering her predicament. He frowned again, imagining that she might have, somewhere. That the bus trip had been a day trip. That she had a cat in an apartment somewhere slowly dying due to neglect. He swallowed.


<Jersey> Jersey watched him quietly in thought, not quite expecting that as she considered his offered before a small smile crossed her full lips and she nodded. "I think I'd like that," She glanced outside to the animals, having liked them upon greeting anyway. "It'd be beneficial to us both, and then." She inclined her head lightly before it clicked on her and she blinked, "You're a professor?"


<Peter Parkman> "Mhm," Peter said. Enver had said he shouldn't have to give up his job. The boss wasn't happy, of course, but Peter gave some fumbled explanation about only being able to do night classes, now. It meant he had less hours. Wouldn't be taking any of the main courses. Wouldn't be earning too much prestige. But ever since he'd been moved to Harper Rock a few months back, he'd tried to stay as far away from the spotlight as possible. He quickly calculated it in his head - he stayed at the Asylym during the day anyway. The dogs stayed at home in the fenced yard with access to the kennels and the toys and bones he left for them. He went back at night to walk and feed them. It was only temporary until he found somewhere closer. It would be good for them to get out and have some company during the day. Jersey never had to expect to see him. He could say he worked long hours, if she ever needed to see him. So that she'd only see him at night. "History," he added, after blinking. At which point the waitress brought their drinks, steaming and hot.


<Jersey> "Interesting," And it was clear that she was being completely serious too as she lifted her eyebrows carefully. Or at least, the right one visibly went up. She made a mental note to never, ever, have to get stitches there again if she could avoid it. "If I find documents, or even just find a way to study," She thought about it, "I've considered going to the University." She wasn't older than twenty-five, she guessed, unless she had really good biological genes. History, a Professor. She tucked those facts about Peter away in her mind, along with the dog's names. Thanking the waitress as she left, Jersey turned her head to watch the dogs for a few moments as she smiled a bit, seemingly comfortable with him. "Things are finally looking up."


<Peter Parkman> Peter swallowed again. This probably wasn't a great plan, all things considering. But he kept calm anyway; she said she needed to get papers together, so it wouldn't be any time soon that she'd come searching for him at the University. By the time that happens he can say there was some radical shift in the staffing. Could say he'd turned into a night owl. He'd figure it out, down the path. "Maybe you should. Take a few arts courses. You know, the generic undergraduate thing where you can try everything. See what you like. Might help you remember things," he offered. To dissuade her would only raise suspicion. He closed his fingers around the mug of hot chocolate. He raised it to his lips. Made it look like he was swallowing, when actually he swallowed nothing.


<Jersey> "Maybe, got to wait for this to heal and for my wallet to turn up," She chuckled lightly as she reached up to carefully tap at the injury beside her head, "so I have my name back." Although, she supposed she could get a fake ID and forge documents. No. She'd do that to get a job, not go to school. But then again, she had a job now, she supposed. Collecting her mug quietly, she blew on the liquid before taking a light sip.


<Peter Parkman> A plan was forming in the back of Peter's mind. He had to get out of here without having drunk any of his drink, without Jersey noticing. He was overthinking again - it didn't occur to him that she might not care if he didn't finish. It didn't occur to him that he could just come up with some small excuse. Instead, a grander plan began to formulate. He'd have to wait a few more minutes. Maybe longer. He cleared his throat again and returned his attention to Jersey. "I'll have to remember to get cash out," he said, almost to himself. "And give you my phone number. And the address," he said. He thought about needing to give her a key, but decided it might be unnecessary. At the same time, though..."And maybe a key. It's a bit of a hike. You might need to ... I don't know," he said, rambling just a little bit.


<Jersey> She quietly sipped her hot chocolate while she crossed her leg underneath herself lightly, listening to him before she removed her phone from her pocket. It was new and prepaid. Jersey had found only one name inside it and the person it belonged to hadn't picked up, so she hadn't bothered to focus on it after she called it multiple times. She slid the phone to him, setting her mug down and lightly using her sleeve to wipe off her upper lip when she felt some of the liquid remaining. "Breathe, Peter." She gave a soft shake of her head, "Your number and address are fine, leave the dogs where I can get to them?"



<Peter Parkman> Oh ****. He thought. Have I not been breathing? I need to focus on breathing. He had a slight mini panic attack, even though he had been breathing the entire time. He was still new enough to this life to not rid himself of the habit of drawing air in and letting it out again. It's not something the diaphragm easily forgets to do. He gave a smile, and took a breath. He picked up the phone and tapped in his number, as well as his address - Cabin 8, Marsh Hill - under his full name, and slid the phone back to her so that she could save the contact. "Sure, okay," he said, reminding himself that though she seemed nice enough, Jersey was still a complete stranger. He had to remind himself to quit being so trusting. "They're always outside when I'm not there. They have proper kennels. I'll leave the leads somewhere easy," he mumbled.

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

<Jersey> She watched the man with an amused expression playing across her features before lifting the mug to her lips, taking another sip and setting it down, afterwards removing her gloves after a few moments to heat up her hands a bit. "Alright, that'll make everything easier." She smiled at him, curling her hands around the mug and relaxing. The warmth felt good against her skin and she wondered once more how he didn't seem to be bothered at all by the freezing weather. 'Thick blooded?'


<Peter Parkman> Again, Peter lifted the mug to his lips. He did not let any of the liquid onto his tongue. Another plan had entered his mind; this one did not require that he wait ten minutes and pretend that he was sick from rancid milk. Or well, he was going to lie and say that he'd only recently been diagnosed as lactose intolerent and had completely forgotten. He wasn't sure how good an actor he was, however; wasn't sure that he could pull off the lie. Instead, when he went to put the mug back into its saucer he deliberately missed; he sent the mug sprawling sideways, and in a mock attempt to fix the unsteady beverage, he instead managed (not entirely fake) to send the thing careening off the side of the table and onto the floor. The porcelain smashed. The hot chocolate splashed all over the lino floor, all over his shoes, may have even managed to douse Jersey's legs. It was only after the act was done that Peter realised it might not have been such a great plan. When he swore, the surprise and regret was genuine. He hadn't been prepared for just how messy it would be. He could see the waitress at the counter, glaring at him. "Aaah...whoops," he said.

<Jersey> When she watched the cup fall, her brain clicked fast enough that she adjusted to sit sideways so that only one of her legs would take the brunt of the liquid splashed against the white cloth of her jeans. Her memory been in place, Jersey would have freaked out but without it, she simply looked at her leg and gave a soft shake of her head, laughing a bit while she scooted out of her chair completely and went to collect a handful of napkins. She returned a moment later, carrying a bag that the unhappy waitress had given her upon request. "It's alright, I'm glad it wasn't me, I'm a little clumsy sometimes." She gave him a warm smile, beginning to pick up the pieces.

<Peter Parkman> "I'm a lot clumsy a lot of the time," Peter said, not at all lying. Truth was, once upon a time he used to be a calm and collected soul, barely ruffled, and confident in most things. Now, however, after witnessing what he had and being shunted off into the middle of nowhere as part of witness protection, it didn't take much to startle him. A person who is always anxious is likely to be a little more clumsy than most. He was out of his chair and stealing the napkins to start mopping up the mess - the milk was thick, however, and he was certain the waitress would have to mop the mess properly later. "I'm so sorry," Peter said, gesturing to Jersey's white jeans. "I'll uhm... I'll give you some money so you can get them cleaned properly. Jesus, what a mess..." he said, the latter part a mumble. Outside, the dogs had all perked and turned to watch, a silent and staring audience.

<Jersey> "Oh darn, and here I thought it was because you were in the presence of a pretty girl." She smirked and then picked up the last bit of glass, setting her hand down in a dry area before she set the bag on the table. She didn't elaborate if she meant herself or the waitress, allowing him to take it the way he wanted before she began helping him with the liquid. When he gestured to her jeans, her green eyes moved to the cloth and back to Peter with a shrug of her shoulders, "Happens all the time." And it was true. Most of her clothes were white, and thus, somehow ended up stained. The day before, she had slipped on a patch of ice and dirt found its way staining the seat of her jeans. She really needed to get more clothes. "I don't think I was partial to colors before the accident."

<Peter Parkman> An odd kind of strangled murmur gurgled in Peter's throat. There was no doubt that Jersey was pretty, but he had never been a lady's man, by any stretch of the imagination. He finally ended up nodding in agreement and giving an awkwardly sweet smile, instead clinging to her comment about colours and clothes. "That must be a bit odd," he said. "Seeing your past self like a stranger..." he continued. Yes, she had said she liked putting puzzles together, but this was kind of different. "The white does suit you though," he said, still with that awkward smile.

<Jersey> His reaction had pleased her and as she wadded up a few of the soaked napkins, she tossed them into the bag before holding it out to Peter for some he'd been using. A nod came from her head, returning his awkward smile with a small sad smile of her own. "It is, yes. I know nothing about the girl in the photographs." She pursed her lips lightly and managed to suppress a sigh, "And the only person I have in my phone won't pick up. I know his name is Austin, I think he's related to me." She shrugged her shoulder once more. There had been a picture with a name written on it in her hand. "Thank you." This time, her smile was warmer and less sad. She didn't like dwelling on things.

<Peter Parkman> "I'm sure it will all come back," Peter said. He wasn't sure at all. He couldn't predict the future. But it was the kind of thing people said to people who had amnesia. Wasn't it? He'd never met one before. "Maybe just don't try. That's the way it is, isn't it? When you're trying to remember something the more you focus the less clear it becomes. But when you move on and do something else, it comes to you. When you least expect it," he said. It sounded like some kind of mystery - only one number, not picking up. Peter felt sad for Jersey. Regardless of potential future problems regarding his species, he was glad he was trying to help, at least a little. He dropped the napkins into the bag and spared a thought for how glad he was Jersey hadn't managed to cut herself. He didn't do too well with blood.

<Jersey> When the last of the hot chocolate was mopped up, she moved to toss the bag into the garbage can before returning to Peter, taking one of the remaining napkins to dab at her jeans in attempt to dry them faster. Her socks had prevented it from touching her skin, at least. "That's a good idea," She gave a soft nod of her head, sitting down after a moment of fiddling with her jeans. She crossed her ankles once more and wrapped her hands around her mug once more. "I don't think it's quite sank in yet, really. Everything happening."

<Peter Parkman> Peter was relieved that neither the waitress nor Jersey were inclined to try to order him another drink. The relief settled in his gut, providing him with comfort and an easier inclination to conversation. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I could lend you a couple of books," Peter said. "Psychology ones. I have a few leftover from my philosophy major," he said. "I could leave a pile of them in one of the dog kennels for you to pick up when you come to walk them," he offered.

<Jersey> She was quiet when she considered the offer, but then gave a soft shake of her head, "Thank you, but not right now, at least." She had a few books she was in the middle of reading that she had purchased earlier on in the week focusing on head injuries. "I do appreciate it though." And she was, it showed while she finished off her hot chocolate and set the mug out of her way, but no where in the line of being smacked off the table as she leaned forward slightly, "I stumbled across Booktique and managed to get a few."

<Peter Parkman> "Oh good," Peter said with a nod. He could see the wall of books he had at home. Kind of wished he'd been reading about head injuries over the past couple of weeks, rather than about vampires and the alternate history of Harper Rock. His head felt like it was all full of fuzz, and he couldn't quite differentiate between what he should believe and what he shouldn't. It's why he liked walking the dogs. They anchored him with a much needed sense of normalcy. He fell silent, then; again awkward, again not knowing how to continue, the cogs in his brain moving at a million miles an hour and disallowing him to snatch a single coherent thought to translate into conversation.

<Jersey> "Right now, I'm looking for a job," She thought about the place called Silks and inwardly cringed, having seen too many movies in the past few weeks anyway. "But I like the idea of walking the dogs," She smiled and turned her head to look at them, falling quiet as well. She didn't particularly mind it, really. "Thank you, again, for the hot chocolate."

<Peter Parkman> "Well you just let me know when you get something solid, if you can't manage to walk them anymore. I'll just uhm... find someone else," he said, though inwardly knew that he'd probably have to bring them all to the Asylum, and wondered if Keara would mind. He might have to ask her first. "My pleasure. I apologise for the... pants," he said with a grimace. He did say he'd give her some cash for the cleaning, so at that he pulled out his wallet and fumbled for a note. He pushed it across the table. "Before I forget."

<Jersey> She gave a wave of her hand, shaking her head, "I doubt I will, I like them," She chuckled, "and the fresh air would do me good. Plus, with the dizzy spells and headaches, it might be best for me to work part-time." When he brought up the stain again, Jersey looked back to her leg, "I had already forgotten about them," and it was true. "Not like, forgot thanks to the head, but I'm just not really that worried." She frowned at the note and pushed it back at him. "You bought me the hot chocolate, really, I can't take your money for something like this."

<Peter Parkman> "Please, I insist," Peter said. "I feel bad. You know I'll just slip extra into your pay if you don't take it," he said with a smile - this one not so awkward, a little more mischievous. "Consider it a forward payment, if you will. I'm sure Hunter, at least, will manage to dirty some of your other clothes. He's terribly good at that," Peter added, gesturing outside to the huge dog in the middle. Hunter was a real treat, sometimes. And note the sarcasm.


<Jersey> Jersey stared at the man for a few moments, her lips pursed before she took the bill and folded it before she tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. He had a point. "Fine." She huffed softly, almost as if she were pouting. Blinking at the mention of Hunter, she followed the gesture to where the dog at and made a mental note to definitely wear her non-heeled boots. She'd possibly invest in cleats later on, depending on how things go. The last thing she needed was a broken ankle. "Like I said, no worries on stains. I managed to spill chili completely down the front of one of my sweaters the other day. Not a huge loss, I'm not a big fan of meat, and I smelt like it the entire day."

<Peter Parkman> Peter screwed up his nose. "Can't say I'm a fan of meat either," he said. He hadn't been as a human - he was very much into his animal conservation efforts, liked to donate to the local shelters and so forth. And now that he was a vampire, he supposed it didn't matter. He HAD to drink blood whether he wanted to or not. But he went about it in a very specific way. He hated it. Hated the smell of it. Hated the sight of it. Even somewhat hated the taste of it, though it was a love hate relationship. At least he could have this conversation without lying, anyway.

<Jersey> "They tried to make me eat it at the hospital. It backfired against them multiple times." She laughed while she thought about it. "But I suppose it could be worse, I will if I must but as the nurse learned there's a fifty fifty split of it returning." She reached up to rub at the back of her neck. "I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one around here, though." With that, she grinned.

<Peter Parkman> Peter grinned, too. "Yeah, there are a few of us in the world. Maybe that's why the dogs like you so much," he said. They had been rather accepting of Jersey's presence, and Peter was a firm believer that dogs were a better judge of people than most other people were. "They gave you some iron tablets, though? You do need your iron..." Peter said; every now and again he got a fatherly attitude to him. Even if people were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, he just couldn't help himself.


<Jersey> She nodded, "Yes, I picked up a bottle today actually. Old me had them in the bag." It had been one of the first things she'd put on her shopping list, along with other types of vitamins. She had been a health freak, it seemed, appreciate of organic things. Wasn't there an organic shop around here somewhere? Jersey's trail of thoughts caused her to go silent for a moment before she blinked, coming back and smiling sheepishly.

<Peter Parkman> "Ah, old you was prepared, then," Peter said with a smile of his own. He tried to imagine what it would be like, not knowing anything about yourself, being stuck in a place where you knew no one, and had no one to help. A place like this, too--a wave of worry threatened to have him start coddling Jersey, offering her a place to stay and whatever she wanted until she remembered. He bit his tongue, however. To have her so close would probably do more harm than good, given that all Peter's acquaintances were blood suckers. He snorted a laugh - a bunch of people who probably got far too much iron, rather than too little. He coughed to cover the laugh. "I feel like at this point in the conversation we start asking each other about hobbies and things. But I think that might be a bit insensitive," he said, offering honesty as to why he was finding it hard to cling to a conversation topic.

<Jersey> When he snorted, it took Jersey a moment to go over her thoughts and what she had said to figure out what was amusing only to find nothing that way, or perhaps he found the fact she said 'old me' rather than just refer to herself completely - maybe he had thought of something funny, she didn't know. She smiled regardless, chuckling, "If you'd like long winded answers, probably. I like to read and write in my journal, which I think I've said before, and cook. I might try painting soon. You?" She inclined her head a bit.

<Peter Parkman> "I like to read, too," he said. "Mainly philosophy. History, too, obviously. I don't do much else. I work. I come home and relax with the dogs. I like trekking, now. Never used to," he said, contemplative. "You'll have to show me, if you paint anything. You might be world famous and not even know it," he said with a grin.


<Jersey> She crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward lightly as she gave a nod of her head, "Lately it's just been books about head injuries, studies, but, I've found a few poetry books that I've been enjoying." She had one or two of the Twilight novels, too. "Maybe, if they're anything like my doodles though, I'm pretty sure I'm not." She laughed. She couldn't even draw a straight line correctly.

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


<Peter Parkman> "Oh I don't know. Have you seen some of the things they consider art these days?" Peter asked, serious. There was a series he saw once that consisted mainly of blank canvases with dots. It was ridiculous. Hardly art at all. "And what kind of job do you think you'd want?" he asked. There, that was a safe topic of conversation.

<Jersey> She shook her head, "I'll have to make my way to the art museum down in Wickbridge one day." There was a small hum as she thought about his question. "Something that doesn't make me take off my clothes or talk about my past too much, definitely. I wouldn't mind secretarial work, or even just stacking books on a shelf. I was thinking about going to the mall and looking about when this heals," She gestured to her forehead.

<Peter Parkman> Peter nodded. "You could try the university," he said, and then inwardly cursed himself. He cleared his throat, and continued on regardless. "There's a library in there. They're probably more likely to hire students, but you never know. I have a feeling if you explain your situation to people, they'd be willing to give you a go. Maybe." he said. He wasn't too certain about the people in this city, whether they were generally kind or not. He normally tended to stay away from them. He frowned a little; it seemed absurd to him that employers wouldn't take pity. "Or I think there's a library in uhm... Bullwood, somewhere," he said, entirely uncertain of the suburb the library was actually in.

<Jersey> She thought about it and gave a light nod of her head, "I'll definitely give it a shot, even if they shoot me down now, I can always try again when I'm clear minded." She smiled and then chuckled, "Who knows, if they do and I end up being someone worth while, they'll likely regret it." Jersey gave a grin and thought about it, she shouldn't mind working in a library at all. She'd be able to work in peace. "I think I know which one you're talking about. By one of the other cafe? One of the internet ones?"

<Peter Parkman> "Yeah, that's the one!" Peter said. He really should know. It's the one where he got all his books from. He was almost ninety-nine percent certain it was run by a vampire. Of course he wouldn't let Jersey know that, though. "I do like libraries. There's something about... the history in the books. Like you can feel comfortable because you're not quite alone. There's hundreds of voices around you," he said, getting a little whimsical.


<Jersey> A grin played across her lips, "I've been there quite a bit, it's not too far from my hotel and it's pretty nice. The people in this city, though," She gave a shake of her head, "no offense, are completely mental. You'd be amazed of what you hear in the taverns." She frowned. Vampires. Zombies. "I feel as if I stepped into a bad horror film half the time with a poorly thought out plot and horrible actors."
<Peter Parkman> Peter might have visibly paled again, had he the opportunity. He quickly snatched a satchel of sugar and started to fidget. He had no idea why he was so anxious. Maybe he should take a page out of Enver's book. But then, of course, Jersey would probably label Peter as one of the insane ones, too. It's what Peter had concluded about Keara and Enver. They were certifiable, and he had tried to get away. Obviously, he had failed. And realised they weren't insane. Just... pressured by circumstance. Enver was actually being completely honest the entire time. "I tend to just sort of stick to the University and the... cabin. Home. I don't really... mingle, much, with the general public," he said. He'd almost mentioned the Asylum, but his brain had stopped him just in time. "It probably would be a good idea to ah... not go walking around at this time of night. The uhm, the crazies do tend to come out after the sun goes down," he said with a faltering smile.

<Jersey> She blinked and reached over to gently squeeze his forearm, taking note of the fidgeting and making a mental note to ask him about it at a later date. "Well, I've got protection," That much was true, the pocket pistol wasn't much but she wasn't that lousy of a shot. In all honesty, it made her nervous to know why she wasn't that terrible but at the same time, she didn't want to know. "I'm kind of an insomniac, haven't been sleeping much and that's why I'm out," She motioned to the clock, "and walking around now. Besides, if I didn't, I wouldn't have met you or the dogs." Jersey's smile was soft, but genuine while she spoke. "One girl was talking about ghosts while I was reading." That was the lightest of all the rumors floating about she'd heard. "Silly, isn't it?"

<Peter Parkman> The touch on his forearm was unexpected, and caused Peter to freeze. He hoped that Jersey couldn't feel much of his skin through the cotton of the shirt he wore - his skin would cold as the skin of a corpse. "It's absolutely ridiculous," Peter said. "I do believe weird things happen but I think it's just... things that science hasn't quite explained yet," he said, pondering. It's what he had concluded about himself, and vampirism. There had to be something to explain it. There had to be more answers than the ones that he himself had gleaned from the books, and from Keara. It's what kept him grounded. "And there, look! You know that you are a girl who searches for the silver linings," he said with a grin.

<Jersey> She had felt the cold, but considering the weather outside, Jersey had taken it that he was simply someone that kept the cold on their skin more than others. Squeezing his arm gently as if to tell him it were alright, she leaned back slightly and set her hand back in front of her. "Full on optimist, that's me." She supposed that most in her predicament would have curled up in a ball or rushed back into things, taking any treatment available. In all honesty, Jersey hadn't done much but read. Some stories made her tear up, others made her wince. She didn't want to lose hope. "I think Wickbridge is full of hookers."

<Peter Parkman> Peter laughed, the sound genuine and low. Sudden, calm, and warm, that's what Peter's laughter sounded like. Smooth as whiskey. The statement had come out of nowhere. "Hookers? Really? Why's that?" he asked, the laughter still quite evident in the tone of his voice. He wasn't sure he'd seen any hookers in this city so far. But then, he'd never been looking.


<Jersey> When he laughed, Jersey felt herself blush a bit before her shoulders lifted and fell with a shrug, "Just random things people say, how they say them, as if they're looking for a piece of ***. The banks are also weird places to overhear people. I could be wrong, but that's how it sounds."

<Peter Parkman> "You've got me curious now. Maybe I should go and see," Peter said. And then he realised what he said, and his eyes widened a little in horror before blinking, and hurriedly continuing. "I mean, not that I'd actually you know, pay for one. But just to... see," he said, cringing. It didn't really make it sound any better. He cleared his throat and took a breath. "I have heard that bank is notorious for its clientele," he added, perhaps to try to save himself a little face.


<Jersey> She laughed, reaching over once more to give his forearm another light squeeze, "It's alright, I understood what you meant." She chuckled, a grin playing across her lips as she let go afterwards, "I'm probably going to end up going to one of the others, it's so strange there."

<Peter Parkman> Again, she touched him. Again, he tensed, just a little. He cleared his throat and kept his smile. "I go to the one at Bullwood. They're pretty normal there. It's on the way home," he said. He got a bit of a hint of what people were like in Wickbridge. Those were his stations - Bullwood and Wickbridge. He didn't really stray much to the other suburbs, though he did go to the docks every now and again.

<Jersey> 'That was twice.' Jersey propped her chin on her palm after resting her elbow on the table as she took in his appearance fully. He was older than she was, surely, but attractive. She liked his smile the best. "I'll have to try that one sometime." The shop where she had purchased her gun was there. She admittedly stayed in Coastside when not at the hotel in Gullsborough. It was easier to catch people off guard there. "So, I'm curious." She motioned at his arm, "That's twice you've tensed. Nervous man in general?" Jersey questioned with a lifting of her eyebrow.


<Peter Parkman> Peter hadn't even really noticed that he was tensing. He tried to relax himself, just a tiny bit. Was silent for a few beats as he considered his answer, his own green eyes a little wide at the forwardness of the question. Not that he really minded. He was generally pretty honest and open. Generally, when it had nothing to do with vampires. "I'd say anxious more than nervous. Though some might argue that they could be the same thing," he said with a smile. He glanced outside. Jack and Ellie were wrestling each other again. KD yawned, while Lady licked her ear. Hunter was snoozing contentedly. "I'm kind of a crazy dog man. You might have noticed. Just not used to it, is all," he said, in complete blunt honesty.


<Jersey> A nod of her head showed she understood and accepted it, a chuckle escaping past her lips as she watched the dogs in amusement, "I don't think you're crazy, maybe for having five at one time, but if you love animals, have a job and room for them, that's your business and so long as you're happy, and they're happy, that's all that matters." She smiled to him in return. "They're all cute."

<Peter Parkman> Peter laughed again and nodded. "I'm pretty sure they're happy. Sometimes I do wish I could get in their heads and know for sure. But they don't really complain much," he said. "It might be different if they didn't get along, but it's like they all know they were... abandoned, I suppose. They don't take things for granted anymore," he said. And then he laughed at himself. "You're sure you don't think I'm crazy? I'm talking about them as if they're human..." he said. In a way, they really were very much like his own children.


<Jersey> This time, the blonde gave a shake of her head, "I don't think you're crazy, no. Then again," She smiled a bit, "I've never quite seen crazy in this mindset so I wouldn't really know what to look for." She glanced to the dogs while she spoke, thinking, "They're your family." She said as if it explained it all.


<Peter Parkman> Peter didn't respond. He had had a family. A real one. A human one. They were gone, now. And he was hidden away, away from the world he had known. And now? Now he was so far removed from that life, it may as well have been a story he'd read once in a book. That's how he looked at it, anyway. That's how he could get by without exploding with grief and fear every other minute. After a while he cleared his throat. "Well I'm certainly not going to go talking about ghosts and vampires in the middle of a crowded bank," he said. "Or pick up hookers," he added. "I'm low on the one to ten crazy scale."


<Jersey> Jersey's green eyes studied his features while she remained quiet, wondering if she had touched a nerve she had said that. When he cleared his throat, however, she inclined her head partially before giving a nod. "So you've heard about the supposed vampires, too? A load of it, I think. Like I said, bad horror movie." She explained, her lips twitching in amusement when he mentioned the hookers again, "Good."

<Peter Parkman> Peter inwardly scolded himself. She'd mentioned nothing about vampires, and here he was doing it for her. He was trying to keep himself as secret and normal as possible--but she didn't seem to notice or care. This one was easy. Again he told himself to breathe. Just breathe normally, and it would all be fine. "Mmm. They are a strange lot, in this city," he mumbled. He considered the fact that he lived in an actual Asylum. It made perfect sense, really. "But where there are crazy people believing things are true, they like to act on their beliefs, too. So as I said, just be careful," he added. An easy enough way to warn her - sure, there's no such thing as vampires. But someone might try to bite her anyway.


<Jersey> "I will be, you be careful, too, Peter." She lifted her lips in a light smile, glancing him over. He didn't seem to be carrying anything but concealed weapons were always nice. Then again, he was physically larger than she was so it was possible people left him be. "The forums in this city are nuts as well, I'm glad I've met someone that doesn't seem to be a creep." She chuckled, "Someone genuine."

<Peter Parkman> "You've only just met me," Peter said, somewhat appalled and feeling slightly guilty that he could have misled her. Though he did mentally slap himself; he was still the same old person, just had to drink blood and avoid the sun. He wasn't misleading her. He wasn't evil. He wasn't even insane. He struggled to keep from freaking out, but otherwise could appear completely normal, and would try to keep it that way. The waitress, while they had talked, had put together a mop of steaming water and a bucket. Most of the other customers had drifted out. The waitress started to mop around them, and Peter felt it was a hint that she wanted them to get out. He took a breath. "I suppose I should get the brats home," he said. Hunter had got up and was sniffing around, his large ears perked at something across the road. They were getting restless.

<Jersey> "You're not a bad guy." She argued lightly, watching him carefully before she gave a small shake of her head, "You don't give off that vibe. Strange," She added, "but, you aren't a creep." Jersey motioned at the dogs afterwards and smiled a bit, "You care too much about your animals to be some type of killer."


<Peter Parkman> "No, I mean yes. I mean, you don't know me, but I'm not a creep, I can promise you that much. Not even a killer," and he could say that proudly, too. He might be a bloodsucker, but he was nothing like that ******** in the movies. Or in the books. How long had it been? And he hadn't once bit into the neck of some unsuspecting human. The urge was there, sometimes, but he just made sure to get his nightly intake of blood before he went anywhere. Safer, that way. He stood from the table as the waitress sloshed the mop against his shoes. He waited for Jersey, pulling on his jacket at the same time.


<Jersey> "Well, by that logic," She pointed out, "You know nothing about me, I know nothing about me and for all we know, I'm running from something." Jersey shrugged her shoulders, "Never said I knew you, either." She frowned, studying him with narrowed green eyes for a moment as she pulled back on her gloves before standing to put on her jacket, turning to him afterwards, "But I'd like to. I don't know anyone here." Her words sent a chill down her spine as she heard it come out sounding like, 'I have no one.' "It was nice to actually just talk to someone." She elaborated afterwards.

<Peter Parkman> As soon as he was all zipped up, and as soon as Jersey looked like she was ready to head back out into the freezer, Peter opened the door. All the dogs jumped up and started wagging their tails, straining at their leads to be untied. KD actually managed to wrangle herself free, sprinting toward the pair of them as if she'd been abandoned for days, rather than just for an hour or less. Peter murmured his displeasure at the dog, reaching down to pick up the trailing lead before heading into the mess of the rest of them. "Ditto," he finally responded to Jersey. "I've only been here a couple of months myself. Keep mostly to myself. You have my number, though - we'll talk again soon," he said, still wondering whether any of this was actually a good idea. "Can I walk you back to your hotel?"


<Jersey> She reached down and greeted KD with a laugh once they were outside, clearly amused while she walked with him to the others and gave a nod of her head, "That sounds like a plan to me." She smiled, and then thought about it as she glanced down the roads, "If it's not out of your way, I wouldn't mind the company at all." Her green eyes showed her amusement while she looked down at the dogs once more, "I'm still trying to find out how I'm going to walk all of them at once without busting my ***." She laughed.