Path of the Vampire forum

It was one dark morning on the streets of Harper Rock, like the sky was black and it was cold outside, of course, normally this is not a good time for people to be outside or living out on the streets, but unfortunately some people have no choice, especially those that are poor, and mostly those that are poor and really have nothing, those kind of people really had no family, friends, or ways to get where they need to go...

Unfortunately that was the case for a woman named Abysteel...

Abysteel had gotten up one cold morning out of her sleeping bag out in the grass as she had no tent, She had strawberry hair, piercings, tattoos and wearing rag dresses, the only thing she had with her was her small bag, she had no coat, no hat, no money, no food, no drinks, no cigarettes, nothing hardly except this little bag and the clothes she had and the sleeping bag, unfortunately she was the definition of a homeless girl out here on these nasty streets and sadly this has been this way since she was 3 and now she was 21 her mothers had died when she was three leaving her on her own sadly...

Sadly for this homeless girl, Her whole life seemed to be a struggle, out on these nasty streets in Harper rock, a place, she probably does not know much about or remember, she was homeless since she was 3, and 18 years later, it is still a struggle, the thoughts exhausted her greatly, she had to sit down on the street corner of Harper rock, resting and hoping anyone would come, she has the want to but has not been able to.

Pi baked.

It was a little known fact, nothing she bragged about much, but she’d been doing it for years now. Maybe it was a form of protest, a passive resistance to the fact she couldn’t actually eat anymore. Her internal organs had probably dried up to useless prunes, sloshing about her depopulated insides, floating in the blood she managed to squeeze out of the blood bags on sale at the store. She hadn’t used her stomach in three years, she sometimes breathed, but that was more habit than necessity. Sometimes she forgot too and then remembered against so her lungs filled and expelled air without any conscious thought from her.

Cooking, yeah, cooking was a bit of a redundant past time for a vampire woman who couldn’t eat. Elliot could, eat that is, but she was pretty sure he could sit around and eat all the baked goods she was determined to make. So they usually ended up where she was taking them, to the Methodist Church. She’d chosen an established congregation, whose works were so ingrained in the local community. Their Church was old, weather stone quarried from God knows where, the blue and grey muted by encroached moss, determined to cover the old girl with its green carpet, starting in shadowed corners and creeping its way across the surface of the church, in some places the moss curled jealousy around window sills, as if peeking inside to watch the services being held there.

Pi was glad no one had cleaned it off, taken ‘spray and walk away’ weed killer to strip it back. The moss gave the Church age, patina, a grand old lady who had seen better days but wore her age well, with style and presence.

It’s also where Pi was bringing her muffins. Blueberry. Still a bit warm, but not really. It was way too cold outside for the muffins to retain their warmth, and Pi rather thought any homeless who were about wouldn’t be too fussy about whether they were hot blueberry muffins, or luke warm ones. Beggars can’t be choosers. Or so they say.

She passed a woman, young, dark hair, her clothes a wreck. Worse than a wreck. She was lucky her outer extremities weren’t black from lack of circulation. Pi didn’t usually stop to chat to the homeless. She wasn’t the stop and chat sort, had no real vested interest in it, other than… well, she was holding what amounted to a whole tray of muffins in her hands and the intention behind them was to feed people.. just like this girl.

So she stopped, turned, and opened the lid on her Tupperware container. “Would you like one?” Pi asked, feeling a bit foolish, but also nervous in a weirdly altruistic way, embarrassed at her nervousness because she was doing something good and wasn’t that meant to feel good, not embarrassing. Still, she shuffled a little, just her feet, waiting for the stranger to answer. “There’s Methodist Church down the road, I’m heading there with these… you can find a warm place to sleep, maybe some better clothes if you need? And muffins, pretty soon they’re about to have … these.”

Pi held out the Tupperware again.