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Charlotte was rummaging through all of her things in a bit of a flap. Bag after bag was found and cast aside as empty, which only fuelled her panic and drove her on in a more and more manic manner. She could hear fireworks outside, it was July the 1st after all, and every single bang was making her jump. The problem was, when Charlotte got jumpy, she lost control of her powers - and she could feel them around her, wild and free and lashing out randomly here and there. She only hoped that whoever she mind blocked or sent a telepathic message to wouldn't then want to find her and kill her. The thought of more hunters finding her, of more pain creeping in on her, was driving her insane. She needed to find a bag with something in it - and she was failing!

The last bag in her cell was found, and then chucked to the floor with force, a scream of frustration and a stamp and grind of her foot. She was all out, and she was in desperate need. Looking down at her hands, she watched them shake - and balling them into fists wasn't helping. Her skin was a pale yellow colour, her eyes darkened rings around eyeballs with prominent veins. She looked and felt sick, and her eyes flicked left to right as she licked her lips to whet them and considered if she were hungry or not. It was safe to say, that Charlotte was a mess.

The pain was creeping back, as her last dose of heroin had worn off, but the drugs seemed to be helping her 'heal' more slowly. So her 'transformation' had been slowed down, so long as she stayed on it. She looked towards the bathroom, considered a shower, but decided that would take too long and she needed to find her dealer now! So, leaving her cell, she jumped through the rift and appeared at Wickbridge Station in the throng of people coming and going to whatever event or party was on their dockets for the evening. She tried to blend in, though her powers still flying everywhere as she tried not to think of anyone in particular in case they got hit - though she was sure Jonah would have been mindblocked by now!

She had to get to Newborough. To the slum area. To find someone who would sell her some heroin. Her bag had the cash and the implements needed to dose herself. She knew, if she could just get some - everything would be ok again. Everything would be normal. No-one would know.

Pi loved this holiday week, when the city came alive. Summer stretched out like a long cold sip of julep tea, an achingly poignant reminder to her of the summers in Paris when the streets crowded with people, laughing, and walking to places with no purpose, meandering the narrow lanes to small hidden shops on innocuous looking lanes.

Working behind the bar at Lancaster’s Pi stretched out the time she could be active during the day, rising early, sleeping late so she could be a part of the festivities in her way. Like today, with dusk slipping slowly down the clear blue sky turning it vivid shades of orange and red. The sky lit up in this gloaming in the same way it would light up tonight with man made fireworks. Like earth celebrated the holiday and the people who inhabited this place.

Harper Rock was nothing like Paris. It stretched out too wide, the streets too big and their buildings too squat. It was an ugly third cousin, barely developed enough to be called a town let a lone the rich decadent history of the city where she was born. But for a moment, during this festive season it came alive. People ambled and rambled, they laughed and drank too much and cared too little. It reminded her of home, barely. But enough that she loved it, for that little moment of feeling at home.

The hawkers in the shops leading up to Mont Marte a remembered heckling from her youth. She didn’t know it then, that she wasn’t as loved as she should have been, that her mother wasn’t as attentive as other mothers. To her the playground were the streets and her friends, other likes her who, like her had known only this. A freedom of sorts. To roam, to watch, to sneak peeks at other people and their lives. People who wore nice jackets and leather shoes. These people smelled so good, like candy you could eat if only they’d let her pluck a piece of them off to have a taste.

There was no envy in the youthful Pi, but a sort of wistful imaginings about the lives these other people lived. She laughed at them too, sitting on the narrow stoop of an apartment building that wasn’t her own, watching as they hurled themselves drunkenly down the street or were silly enough to leave their valuables out where those she knew could pick them clean.

It was a happy time for Pi. She was young, too young for the streets she roamed but she was insulated by others just like her, as she was a member of a club and that club looked after their own.

She smiled now at patrons who ordered their drinks, smiling lightly at men who tried to catch her eye a little longer than they should, brushing off their looks, handing them their drinks and sending them on their way. It was a more comfortable fit, this working and smiling and enjoying the peace of the coming night.

Night had come and so too would Elliot. He would roll over and find her gone and she smiled knowing he’d find her here when he did, giving her that crooked smile that told her he knew where she’d be all along.

For now she enjoyed the pace of the night. People crowded the bar, the stage. The fireplace was filled with fairy lights now, too warm for real fire, but still people backed up to the grate, as if a fire burned there and their backs would be warmed by the fairy lights within. Balls clacked on the pool tables and all along the walls the leaners were full of people talking, watching and drinking. More and more drinking.

Pink cheeks and large smiles grew on faces as more beer was poured into glasses and mouths. She even liked this. When people let go. Even the fights that occurred because they never lasted long or disturbed many. Not in an establishment run by vampires. They didn’t have a **** show in hell of ruining anyone’s night. Pi would make sure of that.

Checking her watch Pi hauled up two rubbish bags, recycling for the alley behind the bar. She didn’t mind the hauling, even though she was built on the small side she carried the bags effortlessly. Pushing through the crowd she smiled and waved off the offers to help, from men who thought to assist ‘the wee thing’ that she was.

With a wooden clap of door against jam she let herself enjoy the hum of being in the darkened alley. Throwing the bags into the skip she took a moment for herself, walking to the mouth of the alley to lean against the wall to watch. There were just as many people here, even on this side of town. Celebrations like this one didn’t have a socio-economic restriction. Public Holidays leveled out the playing field. The streets here were just as crowded. Businesses open late, with doors open to welcome the shoppers. Mostly food stalls, pubs with free flowing beer. The banks were closed, but near to nothing else was.

She leaned her shoulder against the brick façade, hands jammed easily into the wide pockets on her skirt, a peasant inspired simple cut to just above her knees. The white tank top she wore, showing of slim shoulders that would have been sun kissed in her old life, but now was a smooth cream of a genetic code that had a hint of gypsy in it.

Pi didn’t look like a vampire tonight. She looked like a woman, like any of the others roaming the street with their lovers and friends. Maybe later, when Elliot woke up they’d walk the streets for a while too. They would take a turn into the park, play one of the games in the stalls set up there. Or take a ride on the large ferris wheel set up on the south end.

She smiled at the thought. Yeah, maybe they’d do that, before they hauled him up on stage to sing. Because once he got up there, he’d be there for the rest of the night.

There were FAR too many people in the station, and she could feel the panic building up within her. Every face she looked at, every set of feet that clipped on the platform, every smile or sneer or look of disgust, only made her want to shrink into herself and vanish away from sight. It was probably a lucky thing that she didn't have the invisibility power - otherwise, even with all these people looking at her, she'd have vanished from sight and broken the masquerade. She tried to stand in the queue for a ticket, but she felt claustrophobic, hemmed in and trapped - what with all the people queuing in front, behind and to either side of her. It was far too much for her and she couldn't take it anymore. So huddling into her faux fur coat, she apologised weakly and slipped from the queue, pushing her way out and through the walls of people.

She didn't stop until he'd left the station and hurried a couple of blocks away. Dodging down an alley, she pressed herself against the wall and then slid all the way down it, bursting into tears as she huddled there and held her hands to her face. She got so stressed out in crowds and could only dream of handling them if she had Jonah by her side. He was her rock and she felt so safe around him, like nothing could touch her if he was there. If she could, she'd be there by his side one hundred percent of the time just so she wouldn't feel like she felt right now.

It took her a good few minutes, but she finally managed to pull herself together again and stood up. Really, it was a stab of pain coming from her hip that drew her from her moping and snivelling. It reminded her of why she was out and why she'd tried to get the train - and it made her retch. Using the wall to steady herself, she spat out the stale blood in her mouth and took in a couple of breaths.

There was only one thing for it now. She was going to have to walk, and take the back alley ways to get to her destination. If the station was anything to go by, then she was going to be crowded on all the streets as people enjoyed the evening and the drink and everything laid on for the celebrations. So with that the only option available to her - she set off in the direction of Newborough, using the walls of the buildings and dumpsters to help steady herself.

Pi had been in the city long enough to know the faces of most vampires and those she didn’t, she knew the signs well enough to look try and pot those she didn’t. It became a game, spot the vampire while looking as un-vampire like as she could. After the year she spent as co-owner of The Necropolis she wondered really about how much people, the day job variety looked more like vampires than vampires themselves. With their black hair and their unhealthy white pallor cultivated just that way to make them look like the undead.

And then there was the person she would see (if she could see herself in the mirror), which she now could only see from video footage. Born with the filtered blood of gyspies she had a subtle glow to her skin no lack of sun could erase. Which was good because she needed all the natural tan she could get given the only sun she would get from now on would cause 3rd degree burns.

Pi was well known in her way, owners of a bar usually were by both vampire and human both. She and Elliot walked a fine line between both worlds, straddling each in a tight rope of hide and seek. Stepping out of the alley she raised her hand at the Maggie from across the street. Knick Knack shop owner, (more like a $2 store with delusions of grandeur), the woman with fiery red hair was leaning against her broom, smiling and laughing at the people passing her shop, the door propped open, a sign over the door heckling free pop. Maggie waved back, calling across the street.

“How busy are you guys?” she called. Pi lifted her hands, schooling her features into an expression of amusement and answered, letting the French of her history roll her words, because she knew Maggie liked her accent and knowing it, Pi played on it.

“Oh you know how it is… it’s crazy in there. Just wait to when Elliot starts to sing. There will be madness and hoards. I'm just getting a bit of a breather.” Pi joked, faking the camaraderie easily, fitting the veneer of jocular publican. She was harmless, her smile said. Just another business owner like you Maggie, same concerns, same stress, nothing different at all.

Lifting one hand in a wave Pi stepped back, letting the shadows swallow her with another smile for the woman who waved back from across the street, her attention already redirected to a young couple Maggie was obviously eager to have come into her store.

It helped she was a day walker, an owner who could come out in the day to avoid suspicion, from people who would be placed to suspect. Watching from the shadows Pi narrowed her gaze, staring across the street, then again at the people who walked the street.

“Yes, it will be a busy night tonight.” She said to herself. The words meaning more than just the crowds of humans. The night would breed other creatures too. Humans made easy pickings on streets teeming with tipsy people. These nights were a smorgasbord for vampires. The others of her kind also liked these festive seasons, when people brought themselves out of their homes, walked the streets and made nice little targets of themselves.

She spotted the woman and watched as she dragged herself along the street. It was the way she walked that reminded Pi of another time and that thought made Pi step out of the mouth of the alley, deeper into shadow and the hell away from that woman and whatever… the hell was going on with her.

Letting herself blend into the shadowed alley, Pi waited for the woman to pass.

Every step she took was sending her closer and closer to her destination. She could almost taste the rank odour that the slums held.The unwashed bodies mingling with the potent odour of gunpowder, alcohol and usually vomit and urine too - not to mention other, unthinkable scents. It was a scent that wrapped you up in it's sticky, slimy embrace. Curling around you, coating you from head to toe and sliding into your nose and mouth. It was a disgusting, revolting place to be and it was somewhere Charlotte, in her right mind, would have avoided at all costs. She was a complete neat freak and perfectionist, keeping her home with Jonah spotlessly clean and tidy, with everything put away in the right place, because everything had a place to be. She liked playing at being a home maker, it was all she'd ever wanted really - but now, here, in this life, with all that was going on..... how long could she keep pretending?

She passed the alley Pi was hiding in, totally oblivious to the other woman's presence. She wasn't paying attention to anything that was going on around her really. She had an aim, a goal, a destination - and that's where she was headed and what she was concentrating on. However, she soon found her way blocked by a large group of rather drunken men, who upon spotting her had started to cat call and jeer. They wanted her to come and join them, to party and have some fun, celebrate with them. But all Charlotte felt was panic, like a tired bird being chased by a hawk, and she knew she had to get away.

Turning tail, her wide eyes looked around for an escape route - the men getting closer and closer - and she spotted the alley Pi was down. It was her closest escape route from where she was, and she figured she could dive down and find another way out so that she didn't lose too much time or distance. One foot then the other in a clumsy run clipped along the stones of the pavement in a hurried and awkward run. Heels weren't meant for running in, not the ones she wore anyway. So when the heel landed in a little groove, while the ball of her foot landed on a loose stone - her whole ankle twisted and she came crashing down - trying to aim for the shdows to hide in the darkness from the men in case they came looking.

Pi wasn’t going to get involved. In fact, she was glad when the woman passed her by because she wasn’t in any mood to deal with whatever trouble followed. She didn’t know who the woman was, recognized her, but in a vague way, knowing there was something about the woman Pi should remember but couldn’t quite place what. Vampire for certain, but what flavour and what family group she couldn’t recall. Memory niggled the back of her mind but Pi didn’t worry it like she usually would. Recollection would come when it would and until then she was happy to … watch.

The street beyond the alley fell away. Men, the kind who preyed on the weak spotted the woman, in a way that could only compare to the lion spotting the sick calf of the herd. The female even wore a jacket made of something that pretended to be fur. She even dressed like prey.

The men corralled the erratic woman easily, pushing her backwards, walking her into the dark part of the alley, like a wolf pack would herded their prey, to a location of weakness, where they could pounce. She was unsure if it was their intention to do it, but they did anyway, as if their own predatory instincts for the hunt recognized the situation for what it was. Pi’s eyebrows rose as the vampire let them, in fact, did nothing to discourage the men’s mistaken idea that she was a victim at all.

And then she fell over. Pi watched, and shook her head. “Merde!” she swore softly. A whisper, barely heard.

Whatever flavour the vampire was, it was something that encouraged a certain, weakness? Pi wasn’t sure why that word came to mind. Maybe it was the way the woman looked, the harried, tear stained face. Or the fact she just fell over in a dark alley. The woman screamed victim, despite the fact she was vampire, which interested Pi even more. Maybe it was an act, a way to lure in an easy dinner. The thought flowed through Pi’s mind even as she rejected it. The woman who fell purposely into the shadows of a dark alley in an obvious ploy to hide was not doing so as a purposeful way to get dinner.

How does any person, who has the powers they have, the strength, the speed, the magic they had, become a victim. How does a person fall so far from what they were turned into, that they literally oozed weakness? That in itself fascinated Pi. Fascinated her because it had been many years since Pi felt so… out of control of the world around her. Part of her own hubris was the assumption she could, and would control all parts of her world. That if she exerted enough control she could wrestle all parts of her life into what she wanted it to be. Even when she was a victim she didn’t want to act like one. She’d taken matters in her own hands and carved out her own destiny. Even at eight years old.

Tilting her head to the side Pi watched quietly, observing the woman and trying to place what was wrong. Even when the woman came into the alley with her, Pi stood her ground. She was far enough in shadow, the woman, then men had to take three or four steps before she could be seen. Far enough away from the bustle of the street not to be seen. Far enough into the alley that they didn’t see Pi (well, the men, Pi wasn’t looking at the woman now and couldn’t have said what she saw).

Pi could see them though, the predators and in her mind their eyes glistened with the glee of an easy kill, the soft target. Her smile sifted through an expression of blank control.

The gun, a small stock revolver (because she had nowhere on her body to hide her rifle Stella in a tank top, skirt and ballet flats) was palmed easily from its back holster, fitting into her small hand and held in a two hand grip. The muzzle pointed point blank at the lead lion, his eyes widened in surprise. Her own expression was controlled and cold.

“Get out.” she uttered quietly, thumbing off the safety. “Get out… right now.”

Pi didn’t really have a plan of action in mind but she couldn’t very well let the men assault the woman in front of her. She wasn’t much of a feminist either but it didn’t take much good will to men or sense of community spirit to want to help the poor woman out, no matter the level to which she seemed to contribute to her own destruction.

I mean, who in the hell runs into a dark alley to get away from a hoard of men? Victims, that’s who, the kind of victim unbelievably bad directors of cheap thriller movies sends into dark alleys to die. The ones you can tell from the beginning who would be canon fodder.

The woman on the ground who had conveniently (conveniently for the men) fallen into a dark alley, was canon fodder. Pi would have picked her out as the first (or most brutal) casualty of a zombie apocalypse movie. The secondary character that was only given enough air time for the viewer to feel marginally bad she came to a sad (and bloody) end.

No, Pi didn’t really have a plan but it seemed the humane thing to do, was to help out a fellow vampire.

Men the world over, especially the kind that preyed on women, never saw another woman as any sort of viable threat. The same seemed true for the men who thought it a lark to chase after a vulnerable female through a dark alley, only to find another. It didn’t seem to strike them as threatening that Pi held a gun in their direction (although, they did stop in their tracks).

Pi could tell from their positioning and their expressions that in their eyes, she, with her gun, was as much a potential plaything as their actual plaything that was somewhere on the ground Pi couldn’t see.

For a moment Pi wondered if she should do something, say something to the woman but it seemed her attention (for now at least) was to be taken up by the men in front of her. At least the one who had the gun pointed at the middle of his forehead had the grace to look concerned at his turn of circumstances.

“I own this pub.” Pi started conversationally, ignoring the gun she pulled and the incongruous picture of her sounding so casual. She nodded her head in the direction of Lancaster’s back door.

“I’m sure you gentlemen were only going to offer to help, weren’t you? And good Samaritans like yourself look like you might need a drink to … thank you for your efforts to… help.” Pi finished in a slow French drawl that dripped cynicism, the tone of her voice making it clear that she thought nothing of the kind but was more than happy to give them an out that didn’t require her to pull the trigger and completely screw with tonight’s expected bumper profit margin.


“Go on inside.” She offered. “Tell Michael on the bar, Pi sent you… first drink is on me.”

Pi could have killed them. In the past she would have. She wouldn’t have done it with her weapon because there was no silencer on it and there were a cazillion people out there on the street, a mere six feet away. But she’d have done it anyway. She’d have started with the long hair shifty one trying to flank her left, she would have spun to pin him to the wall, rip out his throat before kicking out a leg to snap the throat of the man stunned like a deer at her gun in his face. In the past she would have killed them and thought nothing of it, shoved their bodies into the skip and left them there for the night for destruction later.

Not tonight. Not lately really. Not in a long way had killing been her first option. Just thinking how much she’d changed made her smile, and not in a nice way. Her lips curved in a facsimile of a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She had changed. But not that much. If any of them so much as moved a muscle, she’d kill them all and give the free beer to some other ******** who deserved it more.

Charlotte's eyes widened as a woman appeared as if from nowhere and stood between her and then men who'd drunkenly followed her. The woman was holding a gun and pointing it at the men, threatening them and telling them to get out of there. She didn't want anyone to be hurt - especially not her - and the last thing she could deal with was blood. So screwing her eyes up tight so she couldn't see what happened, she just curled there and listened, pleading internally that everyone would walk away in one piece. However, when she heard the woman say to tell the barman that 'Pi' had sent them, her eyes shot open and she stared up at her.

There was no way there could be more than one woman called Pi in a city this small. Especially not one who owned a bar. She knew this woman, and strongly suspected she too was a vampire. Peter had told her that there was a way, a skill, to being able to recognise who was a vampire and who was a human, but she'd never learnt how to do that. She was only going off the past, and the fact that the whole of the Necropolis staff boards had talked about vampires - and as soon as she'd questioned it, Elliot had sacked her after Pi had made some disparaging comments. Now, she wasn't sure if she was safer with the drunken men, or this woman before her. It was a bit of a toss up really.

Slowly, she got up and dusted herself down. Her ankle hurt, and she knew that if she had to walk on it, she'd do so with a limp. Especially in the heels she was wearing - always wearing in fact. Her tights had been ripped in her fall, but her skin wasn't broken and everything else seemed ok as she checked herself over. As quietly as she could, she backed away from Pi while she was distracted, and wondered if she could make it down the alley - as she'd been planning before her fall - without being seen. She desperately needed her fix, and she had to ram her hands into her coat pockets to hide the fact she was shaking all over.

The men left quietly. A little sheepish, but who wouldn’t be. The long haired lanky one took two seconds longer than the others but no matter how much they may consider all women victims, no one, not even stupid people willingly thought pitting themselves against a gun toting anyone was a good idea. Noise from inside blared as the door opened, as if someone flipped a switch and then died again to a muffled hum when it slammed shut.

She knew Michael would take care of them and when the door finally closed behind them she holstered the weapon and held her ground. The night wasn’t still and she probably had that to thank for the incident going unnoticed. People still meandered the streets with the laziness of people in no hurry to be anywhere. Since she was facing in that direction she gave the street at the mouth of the alley a keen eyed sweep and smiled. No one gave a ****. No one had looked down the alley. And if she hadn’t been there this night would have had a very different and ugly ending for the woman who had picked herself off the ground.

Pi heard the woman move but didn’t make any effort to catch her eye. To the left she heard the shuffle of movement and in her periphery she saw her stand. When the unknown female moved towards away from the alley mouth (and the street beyond).

“It’s a dead end.” Pi said quietly, this time turning so she faced the other woman. “You should leave the other way.” She finished, her head nodding towards the street beyond.

"Oh."

She said, looking down the alley she'd thought curved around and back to the street. She was more out of it than she'd thought, and must have headed down the wrong one in her panic.

"Ummm. Thanks."

She whispered, looking to the door the guys had gone through as she sidled back towards the woman. However, she made sure to keep out of arm's reach - as much good as that did with Pi being a vampire and all. A shiver ran through her, followed by a wave of nausea and she couldn't stop the little groan that rumbled in her throat. She was hurting badly, and she really needed to get to the slums - but she was obviously all turned around.

"Umm, Pi. Where..... where am I? With this being a dead end, I think I'm lost. I must have..... taken a wrong turn somewhere."

Another couple of steps took her to the mouth of the alley, and she peeked out into the street to see how many people were there. After a quick glance left and right, she had to sigh, because there were too many for her liking. If only she had that teleportation power people had - this would be so much easier! Another sigh slipped through her lips as she turned back and looked at Pi's face quickly, then cast her eyes down to the ground again. She wasn't a confident person normally, let alone when she was hurting this badly and needing her next buzz. All she wanted to do was get out of here, get her baggie, then get home and sorted. Or maybe, she'd just shoot up in the slums, then go home. That would be a good idea, the sooner the better with the way she felt now.

All she needed, was Pi to help her out and point her in the right direction and then she'd be sorted.