▽ ᴘᴀʀʟɪᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴏɴ ғɪʀᴇ

[Remington Rothfelder]

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

<Satine> It was getting out of hand paying by the week to stay at Hotel West. It was not that the place was not worth it. It was the nicest place Satine had ever been in. Too nice if she really thought about it. It was cleaned to the point of appearing new each time she left for work then came back. She was getting used to finding the candy on her pillow and the full fridge each time she opened it. It was all perfect. Chester’s money was going fast and the money she earned was going out the window as well. She could have an apartment for what she was paying by the end of the month. With that much figured out she decided as she stood outside Adrenaline Tattoo in Honeymead Market that she was going to call that realty place and see what kitchenettes or studios were available.

Satine pulled her large tote off her shoulder and began digging through to find that pre-paid cell phone she bought really cheap from that guy in the mall who said it was a discontinued item. The fact she could not get calls on it didn’t matter. No one would call her anyways. Her fingers wiggled around and finally found the device and pulled it out. She had the realty number on her hand and was about to press the keypad when she spun around unexpectedly like a top and found herself being kicked and dragged across the mall floor.

“Let go, *****!” The man growled and was quick to introduce the sole of his construction boot into her face. It hurt before it made contact because she saw it coming so clearly. “I SAID LET GO!”

Satine was too confused and disoriented to do just that. Instead she felt the tear of her purse and the pull of her right arm as she was tossed like a rag doll from having possession of it. She pulled herself up and sat there with her ears ringing a few seconds. Her bloody lip was hardly important as she stood up dripping all over and a bit dizzy. It was not long before she realized everything important was folded in ten tight little square sections of hot pink post it note. That was in her purse along with her money she had withdrawn to pay her bill at the hotel. She turned in a few circles trying to see who could have witnessed what happened, which way he went. She panicked and was pushing open the door to the tattoo shop yelling before she realized it.

“Help! Someone just stole my purse!” Her voice was loud enough the ringing in her ears had seemed to have ceased. “HELP!”

<Remington Rothfelder> Remington was at the shop alone. It was technically before the place was actually set to open for the evening, and he’d roused early from his slumber – found himself at work with a magazine stretched out on the counter in front of him. He had one elbow resting to the surface, used to hold his chin up while he scanned over the page, and then turned it so that he could observe the next. Then the next. If he’d been bored, he would have done something about it; he was just passing time until one of the tattoo artists showed up and he had someone to talk to.

Someone burst into the shop and he glanced up. It was Bambi. And she seemed to be in panic…which honestly was the first time he had ever seen her with that exact expression on her face before. Velveteen was the most calm and composed woman he knew. A great deal of his respect for her stemmed from that facet of her personality, her unflappable manner, and how she could stare down just about anything or anyone when she wanted to. So for her to be shoving her way into Adrenaline looking like that…
Someone had stolen her purse?

His expression did not read well, but that was Remington for you. He was about as expressive as a brick most of the time. Of course, beneath the surface, that wasn’t the case If he’d had a pulse, it would have quickened at the thought of violence, and the opportunity to taste it. “And you didn’t kill them?” Maybe it was some kind of test? When he had first gotten into Tytonidae, he’d been asked to sing this nursery rhyme. Maybe it was a situation like that. She was testing him to see how he handled the situation.

He was gone in a flash, his body blurring with motion as he shoved his way through the door, after making his way past the woman. Even with the other male on the run, he could hear the sounds of him pushing his way through the crowd, forcing people aside, making a ruckus. Slipping into the shadows so that he could not be observed in his pursuit, he followed along after the man that had stolen his sire’s purse, waiting until he had gotten away from prying eyes. And only when he knew they would not be disturbed did he step in.

He didn’t want to get bloody, so he went bare handed.

Invisible to the naked eye, he was able to sneak up behind the other man. Before the human could react, one hand found the back of a head, and the other found a chin. He jerked violently to snap a neck. The force of his fingers against a jawline caused a diamond tooth to snap free all bloody. He snatched it up, along with the purse, and made his way back to the tattoo parlour. As he understood it, the teeth could be used as ritual ingredients, which he generally passed to members of Tytonidae when he got them.

“Here, grabbed you this as well.” He said when he was right through the door, holding up the purse, and the still dripping, red tooth in his opposite palm, both arms extended.

<Satine> Satine barely caught a glimpse of the male who heard her call out. It was as if in a split second she saw him sitting there. Just long enough that his face and the ink that peeked through his visible flesh. It caught her by surprise nearly as much as that boot in her face did. Like a powerful blow when you see beauty unexpected. Not a hot light-your-fire beauty but work of art beauty. The again she was in the was in a tattoo shop. What she expected to see didn’t happen. No bikers and beards coming past her in a slow chain clinking manner as they stomped out to her rescue. This was a tall male top model type growling the unthinkable at her asking why she didn’t kill them before disappearing in a blur of motion. Did she hear that correctly? Why didn’t she kill them?

Satine was stunned. Her hands were shaking and now they were patting her jacket and hip pockets in frantic search for a weapon she didn’t own to begin with. Even more bizarre was the questioning why the hell she didn’t use it. She felt like an idiot and she was confused as to why. that boot in the face really did more damage than she first thought.

“I…” She turned around looking at the empty space around her in the shop. He was gone.

Satine’s head whipped around looking at the walls and then with a last thought she glanced upward as if he could have possible took to the ceiling. She shook her head and wiped at her throbbing lip finding a streak of fresh blood painted across the top of her hand as she retracted it. She peeked over the desk and found a hand towel readily available. Without thinking where it was used last she snatched it up in her hand, blotted her lip and winced as she did. Her tongue searched slowly for any damage done to her teeth. It was futile. The blood kept coming.

Peeking into a nearby mirror she discovered quickly she would need a few stitches. Her heart sank. How the hell was she supposed to go into a clinic or emergency room and have that done? they would want her insurance information. She didn’t have that. they would want her name and her medical history. She sure didn’t want to give anyone that. Her hand used the towel to wipe off most of the blood on the top of her hand then rolled it into a ball and dropped it back on the desk as if she never touched it. The sound of the door behind her caught her by surprise and with it she turned on her heels quickly with a jump.

He was real and he was back. Satine’s eyes went wide open as she watched him approach her. There he was with her purse dangling in one hand and the most unexpected object in the other. She squinted as it and his hands came closer to her. Instead of staring at the ink and the beauty of the man she was stunned by what was in his hand. Was that what she thought it was? A diamond tooth with stringy, bloody roots still attached to it? Her throbbing jaw dropped as the fresh blood of her split lip seeped into her mouth. She felt nauseated. Maybe it was the blood pooling in her mouth or it possibly was the awareness the man who just walked in the door and that had saved the day had pulled the thief’s teeth out with his bare hands?

“I…” Satine was overcome with feeling dizzy. Her face was going numb and her ears were ringing. “Don’t…” Whew! Her legs felt like jelly. “Feel…” This was not good. She swallowed her own blood and eyed that bloody diamond tooth. Jesus. What the hell?! Now? She was going to pass out right there in front of him?! She felt her eyes surrender into an effortless rolling upward. Her mind couldn’t find the power to override her body weakening. She was going down and now the woman knew it was going to happen. “Good.”

With that last word from her bloody split lips her body melted and fell back with a thud. Satine was out for the count on the floor of Adrenaline Tattoo in Honeymead Market. Her night was about to get far more interesting.

[Satine]

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

<Remington Rothfelder> Um…

Well that had certainly been unexpected.

In the limited amount of time Remington had known Velveteen, he had never seen her so much as flinch, not at vampires turning to dust in front of her. Not to grotesque violence, like the hacking off of limbs and veritable pools of blood. He had seen her walk through traps, disarming them, without a single ounce of fear. He’d seen her step into the ring against a man three times her size and come out the other side with that same calm demeanour that had originally drawn him to her. So why had she just…up and passed out like that?

Like a porcelain doll, eyes rolling back in her head.

He stood there for a half-second, unsure exactly what he should do, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Someone was bound to come in and see her on the floor like that. Probably blame him. Was it his fault? He pocketed the diamond tooth so that he could give it to Micah or Karina later, and then he moved to scoop her up. Which was about the time he realized she was on the warm side. Not only was her flesh actually body temperature, but her chest was moving regularly, an up and down motion that wasn’t required for the dead (save for to speak). That was…curious. So he dragged her up into his arms, letting her cheek rest against one of his biceps, her legs draped over his other arm.

Tucked to his chest, he moved her into the room in the back, only to lay her form out on the top of a set of cabinets. Some supplies were moved around so that he could make it a little bit more comfortable for her, and then he took a step back. There was definitely something wrong with the scene before him. And so he decided that the best course of action was to confirm a suspicion. He reached for his phone and dialed a number. Velveteen. She didn’t pick up, but what he noticed was that there was no phone on the woman in front of him that rang or vibrated, or any of that. He cut the call off shortly after, suspecting his sire was spending some rare time alone with Micah, or dealing with something else that required more attention.

She would call him back when she saw she had missed his ringing her.

The fresh wounds to a face, the ones that weren’t healing. Those said to Remington that she was a human. He had unknowingly revealed a brief glimpse of his vampiric nature to a human. And honestly, if it had been as simple as that, he would have just snapped her neck, dumped her body into the sewers to become a rat’s meal, or into Quarantine Zone. But it wasn’t that simple. Because she wore the appearance of one of the very few people in the world Remi cared about. He had heard of vampires able to do that, but never humans. Which meant she had some explaining to do.

He retired briefly from the room so he could get her a glass of water from the tap. He returned, placing the drink on the desk before he dropped to sit in one of two swivel chairs. Arms came to fold across the hard expanse of his chest, and he watched her with mounting curiosity. Who was this creature?

<Satine> Felt like she didn’t want to get up. Her head was foggy and the damn ringing in her ears was enough to cost her alarm clock its servitude. She was able to coordinate her movements to get a limp hand to bat at one ear where the source of the sound was coming from. Effectively she woke herself up and instantly realized she was not looking at the ceiling of her hotel room. Her face throbbed where her lip was split and as she turned her head she found out how stiff her neck was.

What the hell was she laying on? Why it mattered Satine didn’t know but it was uncomfortable as can be. It was hard as a rock. Her hand went beneath her as she looked the opposite direction and now she was startled enough she pushed herself up to sit. It was then that she remembered what happened. Of course it also helped that the man she saw when she first entered the shop was staring right at her. The down side was that the rather large male was sitting with his arms folded as if she may have been keeping him from something far more important and owed him an explanation.

Satine swallowed slow and dry. Her weak disoriented pale fingers stretched briefly to thread through her black hair. It was more a move of self-reassurance than it was out of concern she wasn’t presentable. She just kissed some bastards construction boot. She really didn’t care what her hair looked like. She was more concerned with this man and his rather assessing stare her direction.

“I am sorry about that.” Satine was more sorry that she did it at the most awkward time.

The woman had passing out down to a science as a kid.It got her out of taking pills, getting disciplined, having to stay after class or eating brussel sprouts which she could not stand the smell let alone the taste of. It was nothing new to her. This time, however, appeared to be the real deal and had thrown her for a loop as much as the man not too far from her reach. She could deal with any situation and passing out was a great wildcard when all else seemed to fail.

This particular time she had not even given it thought. It just happened. The bloody tooth with the roots sticking out of it was hardly half as disturbing as the violent act of being the cause of Chester losing his head. Far more blood was involved in that event. She didn’t realize the human head was so heavy. Perhaps it then and now were linked somewhere in her chaotic brain. Perhaps not. Either way she had a man staring at her.

“You have a nice shop here…” Satine slid her petite body off the flat surface beneath it and waited until her legs didn’t feel wobbly. She wondered where that proverbial deep hole under a massive rock was that one was supposed to be able to crawl into at times like these. “I will be sure to tell people to come here.”

Naturally her eyes moved cautiously where the man sat to locate her purse. No such luck. It was not to be seen from where she stood. This was not at all in her plans. From the way he was looking at her she highly doubted it was in his either.

“I can see myself out.” Because if she did that she would be able to get a little closer to wherever her purse was and the hell out of the hot seat where she felt like she was baking beneath his gaze.


<Remington Rothfelder> She woke a short time later, and it seemed to take the woman a few moments for her to get her bearings. Remington was not a patient man by nature; no, that was a virtue he had forced himself to learn over time. Much like the rigid control he held over his temper, there were tiny chinks in the proverbial armor that seemed to completely erode his sense of calm, and his ability to wait. Beneath the surface, there was a fire that had been sparked, and unbeknownst to Remi; it was only getting hotter and hotter. With a little bit of time, it would end up eating its way through his flesh, until he was nothing but flame. Because, you see. Velveteen was one of those topics that really got his attention.

It was a thankful thing that the woman wore her face, because he probably would have shaken her like a ragdoll otherwise.

His expression remained seamlessly unbroken and emotionless as she she spoke. Their voices were similar. Hers and Bambi’s. Not the way that they spoke, but the actual timbre. And they had the same eyes. Those same silver eyes. And then she made a move to go, or at least, he assumed she was going to make a move to go when she said that she would see herself out. He moved with the same feral grace that one might have expected from one of the large feline breeds. In the way their muscles moved like liquid under their flesh, how they flowed from one step to another with an ease that said they were comfortable because they were the predator and everything else was prey – that was the nature of his motion.

And then a short jerking as he tugged her up, off of her feet. His hands were on either of her shoulders, thumbs pressed against skin in a way that could have been bruising. He was careful not to push her too hard into the wall, but he did smack her against the solid surface and then take a step closer. It was true that he was opening himself up to attack, but he didn’t seem to worried about that. He was like a solid rock all on his own. Like he was intent on crushing her between the framework of his powerful body and the building’s structure. His head tipped a little closer, like he had some kind of secret he needed to tell. “I am going to set you down in just a second, and you are going to sit your *** down in one of these desk chairs. Then you are going to tell me why it is you look like Velveteen.”

His lips twisted in this unattractive expression that revealed the truth. He was having a lot of difficulty keeping himself in check. Normally, he would have called someone to come and handle the situation, but he felt uniquely responsible for it given that he’d all but outed the supernatural world to the woman. So, true to his word, he slowly unclenched his hands, so that he could let her either slump to the ground or find her feet. Whatever the case, he took a step back. It didn’t occur to him that she might not have a clue what he was talking about. But then, when he got in that particular mindset, he wasn’t exactly the most reasonable or easy to work with.

<Satine> Satine was not sure what the hell she walked into but she did know that her busted lips and her purse were now the least of her worries. She swore the pads of the man’s fingers could easily dig and hook deeper than the three layers of her now tender skin. She imagined they had the power to find a few chords of muscle tissue to hook into. The pressure behind each was that promising and highly effective in keeping her where she was at. Sandwiched between the wall and what might as well be a wall of rock. Now she wondered why she wasn’t passing out. This would have been the time.

The man’s words barely registered at first. She was so hyper focused on his handling of her petite frame. He informed her she would be taking a seat. She couldn’t see where that was since she was closer to him than she could really ever remember being to anyone. She was afraid to inhale or exhale. He was that close and it was like he was entitled.

A shot of ice cold shock and fear filled her. Satine was multi-tasking. Part of her was praying in the back of her mind that he would oddly grin and break his in the face approach and say he was playing around. All the while another part was trying to prepare for when and if he decided to for whatever reason send her into the shop next door via wall slam. How did they get to this point? He came to her rescue and now she needed another knight in shining armor because this inked bad boy was all hyped up on finishing what the purse snatcher started.

Before Satine was able to process his claim she looked like someone she finally felt her body slide down and her feet meet the flat surface of the floor. She looked like someone. Now there was a reason for the reaction. Her feet were frozen in the spot she stood as she dared to look at him then to the chair he said she would be sitting in. Her mind cartwheeled with the events quickly trying to make sense of it all. He was not coming to her rescue. He was going to the aid of the one he thought she was. Why didn’t she kill the guy? His words more or less to her as he raced past her to chase the thief down. He attempted to hand her a bloody diamond tooth afterward. Velveteen. It seems she just found herself closer than ever to the one she was searching for. So far it was everything she didn’t expect.

The questions popped up like popcorn in her head as she stepped slowly to the seat that she was expected to take. Who was this woman? She killed people? Collected diamond teeth? Was she in some gang? Some mafia type thing? Her insides started sinking. What if this guy was ready to do away with her?

“I was born this way.” Her voice lifted above her thoughts as her backside slid into a chair. She had a few ideas on how she would be getting out of this if the man didn’t find her answers satisfactory. Her eyes shot to his once she settled back trying her best to appear like she had sat in that exact chair a million times before. “Do you have any ice for my lip?”

[Micah]

It was supposed to be a night off for him, and he’d had plans to do absolutely nothing but spend the evening with his wife. But Micah knew that when it came to actually getting that kind of time, something always came up that required immediate attention. He tried not to think like that but it was impossible not to. So as he was going about getting his business out of the way so he could be free all evening, and the phone rang his shoulders slumped in defeat. Of course. It never, ever failed. The killer didn’t even have it in him to be hopeful that it was just a simple call.

It was the night employee for Adrenaline Tattoo. He was ill and tried to call in and have his evening shift covered but no one had picked up the phone. That was unusual. Someone was always there until closing to at least answer the phones. The employee of course was more than a little frantic. He didn’t want to go in and get everyone else sick but he also didn’t want to not show up. Micah was rarely called for Adrenaline business but when he was it was usually serious. After he reassured the male to take the night off he tried calling the shop himself. It rang 4 times before the machine picked up and Bunny’s voice came over the line.

“Hi you’ve reached Adrenaline Tattoo. Your call is very important to us. All of our artists are currently busy with other clients, so if you leave your name, number, and a brief message someone will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you!”

The machine shouldn’t be picking up. There should be someone there, but Micah didn’t have a schedule on hand to see who was supposed to be working over there. Scribbling a note to Vel he pulled on his leather jacket and left the Eyrie, using the various portals. Irritation came off of him in waves. Adrenaline was new. They couldn’t afford to have some idiot ******* around and not doing their job. That wasn’t how he did **** and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with incompetent people, not when he’d much rather be home spending time with Vel.

When he walked through the door of the shop there wasn’t a soul to be seen. It was completely empty, which had his temper flaring. The front was never to be unattended. Too much expensive equipment that would be a temptation to thieves. Just because they hadn’t had any thefts as of yet didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to happen. Micah wasn’t going to take any chances hence the rule of someone always having to be at the reception desk. The light on the answering machine was blinking but there was only one message. That could be dealt with later. Right now he needed to find out why there seemed to be no one around.

A noise from the back drew his attention. So there was someone there after all, pushing him past irritated and straight into pissed off. Quietly he made his way to the back and looked around the corner and saw red. Remington was in the back but he wasn’t alone. Vel was with him which really wouldn’t have been a big deal. Vel was Remington’s sire and Micah had nothing to worry about. But the blood and the bruises that he could see on her face changed the entire situation. And since it was just the two of them it wasn’t hard for him to come to the conclusion that Remington was at fault for the condition that Vel was in. Stepping up behind the man Micah pressed the barrel of his gun none too gently against Remington’s skull. “You have 5 seconds to tell me what the **** is going on here Remington, before I pull this trigger and splatter your brains against that ******* wall.”

[Remington Rothfelder]

Born this way.

The words bounced around inside of his mind. There were three options left to him. The first, was that this woman was lying to him, and to his senses, that seemed the most likely. The second was that Velveteen had a natural body double running around. Hadn’t he heard about something like that once? A Shadow ability. Doppleganger? He hadn’t learned it yet, if that was the case, and from what he understood, they were more like shades than anything else. Certainly not with their own voices and fears, and personalities. Then there was the last option. This woman was a twin. Because the resemblance wasn’t just uncanny; it wasn’t that she was a look alike. No, she could have been Velveteen.

But wouldn’t Vel have known about a twin? Or any relation with that striking of a resemblance? He realized at that point that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about the woman. But he was very private when it came to matters of his own history. Or certain parts of his history, like the ones that related to his mother. He jut assumed Velveteen was the same because the two of them seemed to share the same mind at times. Maybe there was a lot more to her story than he initially understood. That made him curious there were matters to be dealt with first.

When Satine dropped into the chair he had directed her to, he was about to reply that he could get some ice from the employee’s only area, but he felt the hard barrel of a gun press against the back of his skull. It probably said something about Remington that he knew the feeling well enough to tell. He probably could have made a guess at the caliber too.

****.

******* ****.

******* mother *******, ****.

Of all the people to happen into the shop, Micah was probably one of the worst. Not that Remi had anything against him. On the contrary, he had a lot of respect for his sire’s companion. The problem was that he knew just how protective of Vel Micah could be. He also knew exactly how it looked. He, himself had been fooled by the body double’s appearance. Add to that, Remington seemed to have this factor about him that brought out the most chaotic parts of a person, and it was the design for an architecture of catastrophe. Well. For him at least.

In this situation, Remi normally would have ducked out of the way, thrown himself into the shadows so that he could avoid being fired upon. Couldn’t shoot what you couldn’t see. But he figured that would just piss Micah off more, and he needed the man to be as calm as possible for them to have the conversation they were about to. “That isn’t Velveteen.” The words were immediate, abrupt even. Though spoken in that same tone he might have used when giving his blasé assessment of a plain shirt.

“I know that sounds crazy, but use your free hand to reach around me and grab her wrist. You are going to feel a pulse. Her name is…” And that was when he realized he hadn’t found out. That hadn’t been one of his priorities when he had figured out she wasn’t his sire, and maybe it should have been. Hopefully she would supply that particular information so he didn’t get shot. Though he doubted she felt she owed him any favors.

[Satine]

Satine was just about to give her version of events that lead her to the point of why she was in the country so far from her own. What was there to hide? It was innocent enough. People get separated at birth all the time then look for each other as adults. There were shows on the television all the time about it. Nothing odd there. She decided quickly she was going to give the man across from her what was safe to tell. Nothing more than that. No, she was not going to offer up all the events. She wasn’t sure what his deal was but she was not going to hand him any fuel to start her on fire with.

Chester had it coming. She felt her still lips in her mind saying it as if she was reinforcing what she had done was a good thing. As far as she was concerned there was no reason to even bring it up. Dead and done deal. Sometimes one has to take out the trash themselves. And that she certainly did. She also knew it also was one of those things you don’t talk about after it is done. Kill something? Dispose of it and move as far and fast from it as humanly possible. As far as her mother was concerned? The woman was really needing the intervention and Satine needed to get out of Dodge so to speak. Sometimes a person had to get rough before things got any better. Life so far had taught her that much.

Satine eyed the man waiting on her lips to start moving and do more than bleed. He wanted answers. She shrugged when he didn’t get up and fetch her the ice she asked for. He just earned a few less answers. Sizing him and finding he was still the owner of the upper hand she was about to make her move. Her swollen lips finally parted and her tongue was rolling into motion to begin her sad tale of woe when she lost her breath and ability to speak with the shock of what entered the room. A new face just appeared out of no where and stepped into the scene.

Jesus ******* Christ.

Extreme yes. However, it was her first thought. And her second as well as her body sank back into the chair beneath her. Satine wished there was a back hatch that could swallow her up and spit her out somewhere else. Preferably that place would be far on the other side of town in the hotel room in which she was staying and a few dead bolts set. That would be a start. At this very moment if she had a set of ruby slippers she would be clicking her heels together like a frantic twit.

The man that made it an impromptu party of three literally had to be seven feet tall. Her eyes widened and crawled slowly up his frame. Possibly he was more than that guess of seven as he moved to tower over the other in the chair. A gun came into view in his hand. Was this really happening? Satine swallowed slowly as it quickly went to pressing to the back of the head of the one that was waiting for answers. Had she not seen him appear she would have never known he was there to begin with. No sound was made. None that she picked up on. How could someone so tall and big move without making a sound? Where the hell do these people come from?

The current events had taken yet another unexpected twist and Satine was ready to do whatever it would take to save her own ***. With people like these two coming to her rescue she really was better off chewing on a construction boot and walking away from it minus her bloody purse. Her brow raised as the man she was closer to eye level with registered that he was now in the hot seat as well. Imagine that? If she didn’t think she was about to die she would have smirked at the sight of the one who slammed her *** back into a wall getting his own surprise. Did she dare add to it? Now he wanted her to cough up her name and her wrist to check for a pulse? She was not sure why her having a pulse was supposed to be a surprise. She didn't want to give the guy holding Remington at gun point a chance to follow through with the suggestion.

Satine had two options the way she saw it. Either one could get her fitted into a body bag and final ride to the local cooler. She was positive these two didn’t even extend themselves to carrying such. Why drag around human zip lock bags when any little fuel can and a match would do just fine? That thought settled it for her. These two wanted to play rough? She was going to give them all the reason to start. Her *** was going to be gone like the wind in three...two...one.

“You really have some explaining to do, Remington. While you do that…” She looked to the man behind him as she stood up. “I am getting some ice. Keep an eye on him and don’t let him move.”

Satine stepped around the man in the chair not daring to look at him and started moving the direction she saw the gun holder come from. Her feet gradually increased the speed of her stride without appearing like she was in hurry. Ice was important. Saving her *** was more important. With that thought and the next step she took she made a run for it.

[Micah]

“What the **** do you mean that’s not Velveteen? I think I’d know my own wife Remington.”

Anger radiated off of him and the only thing staying his hand was Vel. His wife was fond of Remington and if Micah pulled the trigger and blasted his head off, Vel would be angry with him. He realized that Remi was still talking, probably trying to save his own *** by making excuses for what Micah was seeing. However, Micah didn’t take Remi to be a liar so a small sliver of doubt made it’s presence known.

He happened to glance at Vel. Noticed the way her eyes went wide at the sight of him causing him to frown a bit. Since when did Vel look at him like that? Never. Not once. The hand that was holding the gun to the back of Remi’s head dropped as that sliver of doubt grew bigger with each passing second. If this woman were Vel, she would be laughing right now. Telling him that he was being overprotective again and that she was fine.

And then she spoke. It wasn’t Vel’s voice. This woman sounded nothing like his wife. But still - he wanted to make sure even if he was beginning to believe that Remington was telling the truth. Micah stared at the woman as she stood and started to inch away from them, trying to be slick by going around the pair. Amusing. Did she really think she’d be able to get away from either of them so easily?

He counted to five, then turned around and grabbed her by the arm before she could get too far away. “Not so fast there darlin. I got some questions for you.” But first, there were a few ways to be sure that this wasn’t Vel.

Micah glanced at the ring finger on her left hand. No black band encircled her finger. Vel never took that ring off because it meant as much to her as it did to him. “Interesting.” Next he checked the index finger of her right hand and found no tattoo there. He’d put that Queen of Spades tattoo on her finger himself. And it wasn’t there. Finally he did as Remington suggested and pressed his fingertips to the side of her neck. Pulse. How in the….he shook his head as if to clear it and stared at her.

Vel had been adopted. Sometimes she talked about her adoptive parents but he never pressed her for details. She’d encouraged him to ask her about her human life but Micah had never been one to pry. It wasn’t that he wasn’t curious, but he didn’t want to touch on anything that might make her uncomfortable. But the one thing that stood out was Vel had had no siblings. Though standing here, staring at this woman who looked exactly like her Micah knew that wasn’t true. Call it instinct. Call it whatever you wanted but he’d bet his gun that this woman was Vel’s twin. “Who the **** are you and what the **** are you doing here?”

[Remington Rothfelder]

He could read the shock or awe, or fear as it pressed itself over the woman’s features. Micah cut an imposing figure. There was no denying that. Fact. Remington had recently been accepted into Tytonidae, and had been on more than a few hunts with the faction. He knew what Vel sounded like when she was in the midst of giving orders, making the well-oiled machine that were the Masquerade enforces do their job efficiently. The attempt was a good one, and Remi was just detached enough from the situation that he could even find it both crafty and amusing. She was an intelligent one. Or sneaky, at least. Part of the vampire felt like if she had an actual point of reference, she might have been able to pull it off.

But that wasn’t the case, and soon the gun was pulled away from his head. That was when Micah began to investigate the woman, looking for what Remington could only assume were clues as to her identity, or the ways in which it did not mesh up with his expectations for Vel. And soon, the man was asking questions along the same vein that Remi had been. It seemed that both of them were curious to know about the path that had brought her to Harper Rock. The Shadow decided to make himself useful, and took a step back, his arms coming to fold over his broad chest, his back resting against the closed door to the back office. If she intended to get out, the woman was going to need not only to get around Micah, but get past Mr. Rothfelder as well.

There was one component missing though, wasn’t there? They could have questioned her for hours and would only ever have half of an answer.

Remi’s gaze narrowed on her for a moment before he reached his hand out in front of him. It was an ability he had only used a couple of times. And really only when he was in the middle of a hunt.

He summoned Velveteen into the room.

The way he figured it, unless she was there, he and Micah were never going to really figure out what they wanted to know. The question that was really burning at the back of Remi’s mind at least. How was this woman related to the person he and Micah both cared so much about? It seemed pretty clear to the Shadow that she wasn’t informed as to the nature of vampires. Or. She hadn’t been prior to that day.

Which posed a problem all on its own. He had accidentally violated the Masquerade because of who he’d thought she was.

Even as harmless as she seemed, she posed a threat to him.

But that was a matter to be dealt with at another time.

“Welcome, Bambi. Happy early Christmas, Micah and I got you a twin.” And then a wry smile. Maybe the attempt at humor would help to put the human at ease enough to answer Micah’s questions.

[Velveteen]

Velveteen was in a particularly good mood. Besides a little hunting the rest of the night was to spent with Micah. There had been no real drama. No immediate issues that needed to be dealt with. Everything had been running rather smoothly of late and when things did that the raven haired woman was a rather happy little vegemite. Even happier that that the time she spent with her husband would be without arguments. Just maybe she might even get lucky tonight. That thought alone brought a smile to her face as she traversed the caverns like an apex predator.

The earbuds were nestled deeply in her ears and her head bobbed to the beat of the music that sounded loud in her own head. It likely wasn’t the smartest thing to do down here, in the dark with corners that could shelter a waiting paladin but it was good practice. It honed her other skills and her eyes never rested as she tried to see everything at once. Her abilities and senses were on high alert despite the light, bouncing rhythm of her step.

Her breath began to speak
As she stood right in front of me
The colour of her eyes
Were the colour of insanity
Crushed beneath her wave
Like a ship, I could not reach her shore
We're all just dancers on the Devil's Dance Floor

The metal of her polished gun caught even the faintest sliver of light and glinted occasionally with sinister intent as it was held out in front of her at the ready. Her nightly trips into the sewers were more of a game to her and each time she ran the gauntlet and managed to exit without a wound was a victory.

The heavy blackness that appeared in the wall up ahead indicated that the tunnel T-sectioned. She sniffed lightly at the air. There was a shift in the dank smell that clung to the brick work. Death and decay owned this air space. Her nose wrinkled slightly with disgust and for the briefest of moments she was glad that she didn’t actually have to breath to stuff, unlike those crazy humans who did. How they could stand to she would never know. She couldn’t help but wonder who was craziest in this little ongoing war though. Who were the hunters? Really?

She slowed down as grew nearer to the corner. Her gun wrapped tightly in both hands led the way. The odds were that is she knew there was a human there, that human likely knew of her presence as well. From what she understood the paladins could smell vampire a mile off.

The mutual enemies moved at the same time and stood face to face. Her gun came up and the naked woman’s sword swung down simultaneously. Velveteen smiled. Her feet moved and she made to run up the slippery, slime covered wall in a bid to evade the blade that wanted nothing more than to feel the splintering of her skull beneath it.

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

The wall suddenly disappeared and the vampire came crashing to earth in a flurry of leather and gun fire. Anything that had been said was lost in commotion. “****!” The anger evident in that single word as pain shot through her and then she groaned. The heavy unprepared fall caused her to land heavily on her shoulder which now felt dislocated. Possibly even broken. The earbuds were yanked from her ears, the music now faint though still audible.

The apple now is sweet
Oh much sweeter than it ought to be
Another little bite
I don't think there is much hope for me

The first thing she noticed was her childe standing before her, blood running from his ear where her misguided bullet had taken a nice chunk before lodging itself in the ceiling. “Jesus ******* christ, Remington. Some notice please?” No wonder Micah always asked for notice. A mental note was made to make sure she did exactly that from now on. Velveteen pulled herself to her feet and set her gun on the table, so far oblivious to the others in the room, and then popped her arm back in with a grunt and sharp yelp. The limb rolled and she rubbed at the shoulder with her other hand as she looked around realising that she was in the office at the tattoo shop.

Confusion clouded her features and she looked around then. “Micah! Hey you are supposed to be at home wa-......” Anything else that was meant to follow as she then noticed the woman. Though the only thing she noticed was his hand on her neck and her gaze narrowed as it moved to the only other female in the room. She could tell immediately that she was human and her gun found its way back into her hand so fast it might as well have been by magic.

The still warm nuzzle was placed to the woman’s forehead as she was pushed back against the wall. “So paladins can make themselves look like us now?” She growled, staring into eyes that looked like hers. Her head tilted and she grinned wickedly. “I must say...I don’t look half bad when I don’t look all dead and ****.” She paused and look over her shoulder at the two men behind her. “So does someone want to tell me what the **** is going on here and why she isn’t dead yet?”

Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

The sounds that came from the earbuds that were now dangling loosely from her pocket faded, and silence descended upon the small group. The last thing they needed right now was the paladins getting the upper hand.

[Satine]

An icy vice grip-like hold fastened to her arm and caught Satine’s attention as soon as she was about to clear her body from the room. Her eyes had been fixed to her path and it was so close. She felt the tell tale signs of panic registering through her tiny body as her feet had no choice but to do an about-face with the hand hooked to her.

Last time this happened to her she was also close to getting away from being man handled by Chester's goons for taking his high end stash and dropping it in the police Christmas Collection for winter coats. The losers were dangling her off a pier until mom intervened. She bolted but was cut off quick by the new boy trying to get his name noticed. He opened a door and that was all took for her to be kissing the outside alley door of the warehouse and taking a seat on the ground. Her eyes took to pinning on each face that was looking at her with an expectant look.

The one with the gun had a stretch on him that the NBA could have used. She felt her petite unsuspecting body go backwards as her lips snapped open then closed trying to form a word of protest. The burn of the deep cuts in each sent the surfaces of the compromised flesh into an inconvenient throbbing that was quickly overshadowed by more uninvited contact. The icy paw of the tower high man found her hand then the other followed by a press of his ice cold digits to her neck. She hissed in a deep breath and held it tight in her chest. Unexpected cold rushed through the layers of her skin from her neck to her toes. She wanted to tell him to keep his hands off but a gun usually was a sign to Satine that she was far from being the one to call the shots. Her attention perked up when he went to reaching for her hands.

“Do you mind?!” She growled tugging her hand back and rolling her shoulders slightly as she tried to adjust her jacket to appear relaxed. She had to do something. Physically and mentally she was looking at a lot more trouble than she ever had before with the two inked up, jacked up roid raging walls of ‘not-so-happy’ looming over her. Scared or not she needed to play it cool until she came up with her back up get away plan. Biggest mistake was to let anyone think they had the best of you. “You need to wear gloves. It is like being handled by popsicles.”

Finally her heart caught up with her pulse and both were racing faster than she was comfortable with. Unfortunately, her mouth was moving right along with both. Her body was shivering with the fear that she may have just met her demise. It was slowly sinking in. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other in the small space they had her standing. Everything she had done up to this point was to find this woman who she was separated from at birth. Now Satine was regretting it. Karma was kicking her *** left and right and deep down she knew she had it coming.

Satine’s attention went from the one who seemed to be leading the inquisition with his pointed ‘who the **** are you and what are you doing here’. She was about to ask him just who the hell he was but her eyes were called to the one who answered to ‘Remington’. He looked like he was grabbing for air or taking an odd reach. Her brow lifted. This is crazy. Her mind tried to assure her she was the same one out of those in the room. It would do little to no good. Satine had no preparation for what was to happen next.

Out of thin air a dark haired female appeared to tumble and roll with the faint sounds of music following her. Satine was only able to step back once when the sound of a gun going off startled her into freezing in the spot her feet were in. It appeared Remington was the recipient of the fired shot. She looked at the man’s ear and expected to see the first shimmering red liquid ribbons of blood seeping out of the edges of where that piece used to be. Instead what she witnessed had her squinting to be sure she was seeing what she thought she was. It was jet black. The fluid that was surfacing was not just that either. It began beading up and floating in small but visible drops that appeared to move entirely on their own. Her eyes tracked the movement then blinked fast as the obsidian beads disappeared.

Meds. Satine was in disbelief. Maybe she needed her meds. She had been off them for a month. In that month she had done what? Obtained a passport, killed Chester, stole his stashes of money and exchanged it for Canadian currency, let Mom take the credit for Chester, left the country, landed in the one place in the world she was now sure was off the charts bat **** crazy.

Satine looked at the man with the gun then to the woman who had recoiled her weapon and finally came to full view. Her heart stopped. Her chest hurt and she was thinking her throat was likely closing up. The world just stopped. Nothing was registering anymore. Her eyes met the woman’s face and it was like looking in a mirror. Even if the woman who just suddenly appeared with a gun blazing looked like her skin never found the light of day.

“You are out of your mind, Satine. Here…” Her mother’s voice was clear as can be and she could smell the raspberry cordial in the glass being shoved forward at her. What a ***** she was. all those years ******* her over with her Munchausen diagnosis. Feeding Satine pills and working her into ailments just to cover her own pathetic drug addictions. “Take your medicine. If you just would get it through your head there is just you. You are making things up. Hell, Satine, I think I would know if you had a sibling. Don’t you think I would know?” Satine could smell Chester now. Bathing really wasn’t in his daily agenda. PTSD was a mind **** all its own. At least that diagnosis fit. “Yeah, Satine, take your ******* meds. You are ******* nuts.”

Satine’s eyes couldn’t blink. Her mouth went dry. It was all true. Or was it? The black beads randomly floated, the guys were too huge to be real and the woman staring back at her just rolled out of thin air with a gun firing. She didn’t get any more time to debate it. Words were coming from the female and before those registered she was again slammed back against that damn wall being asked who in the hell she was. a barrel of a gun fixed to her forehead and this time she was scared sober and her head was clear. She had only one chance to say the right thing or it was lights out as she saw it. What the **** was a paladin? She would make a point to ask if she survived the next few sentences that came out of her mouth. She would ask about paladins, black beads that floated in the air, how one comes out of thin air and of course about seven foot tall men who have ice cold hands that haven’t been recruited by the NBA.

“July 7th, 1979. Adelaide, Australia.” Her eyes did the oddest thing after saying what she did. They crossed and looked at the weapon pinning her to the wall and thought it was actually pretty impressive.

[Micah]

Micah narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to tell her that she was in no position to be shooting her mouth off and giving him attitude, but he didn’t. He continued to stare at this woman who wore his wife’s face. Jesus the similarities were striking. And so was the attitude. If he wasn’t in such a state of shock at finding what appeared to be his wife’s twin he might have been slightly amused.

He opened his mouth, intent on questioning her more but Remington took that moment to summon Vel. In front of a human, breaking the masquerade. Micah’s furious gaze turned on his wife’s childe just as she appeared, a bullet leaving her gun the second she materialize in the room with them. Said bullet ending up catching Remi on the ear and the black blood of the shadow appeared in the air before disappearing before the startled human’s eyes. Great. Now they had a serious breach on their hands. How the **** were they going to handle this one?

Before he could explain what he was doing there his wife pressed the still smoking gun against the human’s forehead. Jesus Christ was anything going to go right tonight? Apparently not. What a clusterfuck this was turning out to be. And they still didn’t know who the **** this chick was, but now she knew their names.

Paladin. No Micah didn’t think this woman was a paladin but Vel certainly did. He stepped up beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm intent on pulling her arm away but the human spoke and he froze.

July 7th, 1979. Australia. Adelaide to be precise. Velveteen’s birthday, and place of birth. He was right. This wasn’t some strange woman. This was Vel’s twin. Identical twin. But how did she know about Vel, but Vel didn’t know about her? And why was she here? Something that Micah had already asked but had gotten no answer. Now he really wanted to know. But he didn't ask again. Instead he looked at Vel and waited for her reaction.