Another night of training complete, now it was time to go home and clean up. Malachai was mess, blood painted his clothing in garish splashes of reds. Normally he was the type to stick to the shadows until he made it home, but tonight he was in a hurry and made the decidedly bad decision to use a newly gained ability, celerity. In hindsight, the idea had been a bad one. Looking back, he realized just how bad it was when he noticed a young woman staring at him like he had two heads.
Terrific, now there was a witness to his stupidity. Not that his wife and sire hadn’t witnessed a few of those..well, maybe most of those moments of his life since coming to this town. Now though, now he had to figure out a way to deal with the woman who’d seen him. He smiled at her while he tried to figure out his options. Drive her crazy by trying to convince her that it was all in her head? Maybe. After all, he did know how to talk into someone’s mind. Maybe she would believe it she was flipping out, but by the look of her, Mal didn’t think that was going to be a viable solution. ****, he’d been staring and smiling at her like an idiot for too long. Quickly he dropped his gaze to the ground, eyes following a gum wrapper that was being whisked along the sidewalk by the brisk wind.
Option two, this could work. Pretend that it had been a magic trick and end it with a grin and a few words? "TA DA", popped into his head and he found himself smirking at the idea of trying to convince anyone he was a magician. Maybe if he was dressed more like one instead of looking like he’d been working at a slaughterhouse he would have stood a chance with that idea. Okay, then scratch that and try again. He cast a surreptitious look at the woman, making sure she was still there, hoping she was still there and hadn’t gotten the sense to run away.
Running away for her could end badly, for both of them. There were enough humans around that did believe in vampires that if she were to start spreading the word, he was screwed. Not only would he be screwed, but there was family to consider as well. And the Masquerade. ****! Micah was going to be livid when he found out that Mal had been careless. Maybe, just maybe there was a way to cover that fact up. Well, not cover it up, but remedy things so Micah wouldn’t be quite as pissed off when he found out what had happened.
Option three, kill her? He wrinkled his nose in distaste. Malachai wasn’t one to kill without a very good reason, and his screw up wasn’t a good enough reason for him to kill an innocent person. “You could turn her,” his mind whispered to him, “then you wouldn’t need to worry about her blabbing because she’d be putting herself in danger too. Besides, it might be nice to have a childe around again.” Stephanie was off doing god only knew what, aside from making bad decisions in his opinion and Kaja was living life under the radar in Romania as a simple gypsy woman. Maybe it was time for a new childe. Maybe the young woman would have the staying power that some of the other ones hadn’t had. The decision had been made, Mal was going to make himself a baby vampire, whether she wanted to be one or not.
Faster than a speeding bullet (Mirella)
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Malachai
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- CrowNet Handle: Her Dark One
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Mirella (DELETED 6055)
- Posts: 3
- Joined: 11 Feb 2015, 02:35
Re: Faster than a speeding bullet (Mirella)
“Well then, what do YOU suggest I do, huh? Jump the ******* fence and drag you back?” The woman snapped into her phone, sweeping dark hair from her face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You better back down.” ******. She thought, huffing to herself as she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and folded an arm over her stomach, hooking her hand into the crook of her elbow as she pressed her phone into her ear to hear the response on the other end. “Whatever, AJ, I don’t have time to listen to you. I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Bye.” She slammed her finger into the screen, hitting the end call button. It took maybe ten seconds and the phone was screaming its ringtone to the world again.
Ba-ba-ba
Ba-banana
Ba-ba-ba
Ba-banana
BANANAAAAA POTATO NAAAA….
The familiar screech of the Banana Song from Despicable Me rang out into the street and her phone was back against her ear and she was yelling, not in English, but in rapid Spanish, complete with the slight head bob and the avid hand gestures. She was pissed. “BeCAUSE, dammit, I SAID so, now--” A man appeared with inhuman speed in front of her and she blinked, and just… stopped, mid sentence. “Mirella? YO! Rell! You there?” The voice on the other end, distinctly male, called out to her. “I’m… let me call you back,” She ended the call again. He was pretty well based, she decided, with his looks. He was smiling at her. He was.. covered in… blood? Don’t be silly, she scolded herself, it’s paint or something. Gods. But the color was… too distinct to be paint.
Mirella took a step toward him as she watched his face shift, he was smirking? Now he was watching something on the ground, she glanced down and caught the skittering gum wrapper on the ground. She took another step toward him. “Uh… hey, do you… need help?” She asked, concern flashing in deep brown eyes. “Want me to call you an ambulance? Or… I can take you if you want, I guess. I know the hospital’s like.. right up the road or something isn’t it? Or maybe YOU’LL be taking me… Y’know, directions and all…” She laughed nervously, awkward! Mirella, girl, get your **** together. Seriously.
Ba-ba-ba
Ba-banana
Ba-ba-ba
Ba-banana
BANANAAAAA POTATO NAAAA….
The familiar screech of the Banana Song from Despicable Me rang out into the street and her phone was back against her ear and she was yelling, not in English, but in rapid Spanish, complete with the slight head bob and the avid hand gestures. She was pissed. “BeCAUSE, dammit, I SAID so, now--” A man appeared with inhuman speed in front of her and she blinked, and just… stopped, mid sentence. “Mirella? YO! Rell! You there?” The voice on the other end, distinctly male, called out to her. “I’m… let me call you back,” She ended the call again. He was pretty well based, she decided, with his looks. He was smiling at her. He was.. covered in… blood? Don’t be silly, she scolded herself, it’s paint or something. Gods. But the color was… too distinct to be paint.
Mirella took a step toward him as she watched his face shift, he was smirking? Now he was watching something on the ground, she glanced down and caught the skittering gum wrapper on the ground. She took another step toward him. “Uh… hey, do you… need help?” She asked, concern flashing in deep brown eyes. “Want me to call you an ambulance? Or… I can take you if you want, I guess. I know the hospital’s like.. right up the road or something isn’t it? Or maybe YOU’LL be taking me… Y’know, directions and all…” She laughed nervously, awkward! Mirella, girl, get your **** together. Seriously.
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Malachai
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Re: Faster than a speeding bullet (Mirella)
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Malachai: He looked down at his clothing, having forgotten the state it was in, then back up at the woman with what he hoped was a convincing smile, “This? It’s...tattoo ink. I work for a local shop and a shipment came in with a **** ton of broken bottles in it. I wasn’t paying very good attention when I picked it up.” ****, if ever something sounded like a blatant lie, that was it. What a run of luck he was having, all of it bad too.
It just figured that he would happen upon the only do-gooder in the whole damned town. In that respect, she reminded him of Kaja. The concern and willingness to help without question. He felt a twinge of remorse for having to turn her, maybe he should just kill her instead? Again he pushed the thought away, no killing.
Mirella: She stared at him and raised a brow after a moment. She had some ink herself, all of it hideable of course.. If he was an artist… she’d been looking for a shop since coming here… “Uh...huh.” She said, eyeing him up a bit. It was drying kind of like blood did. “If that’s ink then I’m el chupacabra. Red ink don’t dry like that, honey, but if you wanna try again I’d be willing to listen to your story.”
As it were, she was backing up. The whole situation was screaming “danger” at her. Maybe she should just walk away, call him an ambulance or something. They could take care of him. “I’ll uh, see you around, okay?” She turned and set off at a brisk pace. She would call him an ambulance. Yeah. That’s it. Call him an ambulance. She dialed and pressed the phone to her ear.
Malachai: Okay, he could try again only he was going to sound completely crazy in doing so. In an instant he was standing in front of her, “Disconnect the call and I’ll try again, but it’s going to be a pretty far out story. Wanna grab a cup of coffee and listen to what I have to say? That way you can rest assured that I’m not trying to mug you or something. There’s plenty of places that are plenty busy this time of night so it’s not as if you have anything to worry about if we go somewhere busy, true?”
He still had the bloody shirt to worry about, that was going to draw way too much interest for his comfort, but he was willing to call his wife and see if she could have the dreaded Helga bring him a clean one. An errand that he knew would not sit well with Helga, if Echo could even talk her into it. “I’ll call my wife and see if she can have someone bring me a clean shirt so I look less like some kind of cholo and more respectable, then we can talk.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply to him as he pulled out his phone and dialed his wife’s number, all the while he silently prayed to god she would answer, and that she would agree to his request.
Echo: She picked up the phone, sounding bored, “What did you do, and how much will it cost me?”
Malachai: He laughed at the greeting, “I love you too, and I need a favor. As for how much it will cost you, well, that depends on if Helga has a few free minutes and is going to demand a bonus or not.”
Echo: She chuckled quietly, “She might on both counts. Who needs to be killed?”
Malachai: “Actually, I don't need her to do that for me, I am in desperate need of a clean shirt and I don't have time to run home and get one because I have..” well ****, this wasn't going to go over well at all…”an impromptu coffee date.”
Echo: A brow rose though he couldn't see it, “You have... a... coffee... date.”
Malachai: “Ummm...yes? I will be happy to explain when I get home, but I promise it isn't anything like it sounds.” Malachai cringed at the way she said date, knowing full well the way she stressed that single word could mean bad things, like a day on the couch.
Echo: “You better,” her tone was eerily neutral. “And tell me, what kind of shirt would you like Helga to bring?”
Malachai: “Just a plain t-shirt is fine. Nothing fancy. Black, white, my Kermit the frog, or Cookie Monster. Whatever is easiest to grab for her.” He gave her the name of the street he was on, the glanced at the building and added the address for good measure, “I owe you and Helga big time, Echo.”
Echo: “No kidding. She'll be there soon.” She sighed and shook her head, “Be careful Malachai.”
Malachai: “No worries, Sweetheart. I love you and tell Helga I'll make it up to her.” He laughed softly as he teased, “We can go out to the range together and I'll give her a live target to fire at. Maybe that'll cheer her up.”
Echo: “Only if she can use you as the target. I love you,” she said and then ended the call.
Malachai: When Echo ended the call, he smiled warmly at her and pocketed his phone, “So, I have a clean shirt on the way here if that helps any. I really don’t need an ambulance, I’m not hurt. See?” He lifted the hem of his shirt enough to show her that he had no injuries and no bandages that might indicate any healing injuries. His skin, while inked was unharmed.
Mirella: She just stared at the man and she had indeed frozen in place when he appeared in front of her like magic. “Oh...kay.” She said simply, and then she shrugged. Listening to the nutso couldn’t hurt she guessed. “Sure, I like coffee and after all this,” she swept a hand at him, “I could use some caffeine to get my head on straight. “She eyed him a bit and then ended the call, folding her arms. “What’s your name, I don’t wanna keep calling you “you” or keep saying “hey” it’s irritating. Mine is Mirella. Rell.” She eyed him a little and then tilted her head, putting her hands on her knees. “Oh whatcha got for ink? I got a few myself.”
Malachai: He laughed and shook his head, “You can wait until my clean shirt arrives before I reveal any more ink. Probably looks weird with me standing here in just a shirt in the winter as it is. I hope Helga brings a jacket along too, or I might freeze to death. then you’ll just have to throw the coffee on me to get me to thaw out.”
Name, she’d given hers so he supposed it was only fair he give her something to call him. Something that sounded nicer than hey or you. He thrust a hand in her direction to introduce himself, hoping she would be willing to shake hands as he spoke, “My name’s Malachai Chavez. Mal to my friends. Pleasure to meet you, Mirella. At least, it is so far.” Her name rolled off his tongue with a faint Spanish accent, the accent normally didn’t come to light unless he was talking to Anna and they were going back and forth. Or when he was speaking to his wife in Spanish...or angry and forgot he spoke perfect American since that was his first language.
Malachai: He looked down at his clothing, having forgotten the state it was in, then back up at the woman with what he hoped was a convincing smile, “This? It’s...tattoo ink. I work for a local shop and a shipment came in with a **** ton of broken bottles in it. I wasn’t paying very good attention when I picked it up.” ****, if ever something sounded like a blatant lie, that was it. What a run of luck he was having, all of it bad too.
It just figured that he would happen upon the only do-gooder in the whole damned town. In that respect, she reminded him of Kaja. The concern and willingness to help without question. He felt a twinge of remorse for having to turn her, maybe he should just kill her instead? Again he pushed the thought away, no killing.
Mirella: She stared at him and raised a brow after a moment. She had some ink herself, all of it hideable of course.. If he was an artist… she’d been looking for a shop since coming here… “Uh...huh.” She said, eyeing him up a bit. It was drying kind of like blood did. “If that’s ink then I’m el chupacabra. Red ink don’t dry like that, honey, but if you wanna try again I’d be willing to listen to your story.”
As it were, she was backing up. The whole situation was screaming “danger” at her. Maybe she should just walk away, call him an ambulance or something. They could take care of him. “I’ll uh, see you around, okay?” She turned and set off at a brisk pace. She would call him an ambulance. Yeah. That’s it. Call him an ambulance. She dialed and pressed the phone to her ear.
Malachai: Okay, he could try again only he was going to sound completely crazy in doing so. In an instant he was standing in front of her, “Disconnect the call and I’ll try again, but it’s going to be a pretty far out story. Wanna grab a cup of coffee and listen to what I have to say? That way you can rest assured that I’m not trying to mug you or something. There’s plenty of places that are plenty busy this time of night so it’s not as if you have anything to worry about if we go somewhere busy, true?”
He still had the bloody shirt to worry about, that was going to draw way too much interest for his comfort, but he was willing to call his wife and see if she could have the dreaded Helga bring him a clean one. An errand that he knew would not sit well with Helga, if Echo could even talk her into it. “I’ll call my wife and see if she can have someone bring me a clean shirt so I look less like some kind of cholo and more respectable, then we can talk.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply to him as he pulled out his phone and dialed his wife’s number, all the while he silently prayed to god she would answer, and that she would agree to his request.
Echo: She picked up the phone, sounding bored, “What did you do, and how much will it cost me?”
Malachai: He laughed at the greeting, “I love you too, and I need a favor. As for how much it will cost you, well, that depends on if Helga has a few free minutes and is going to demand a bonus or not.”
Echo: She chuckled quietly, “She might on both counts. Who needs to be killed?”
Malachai: “Actually, I don't need her to do that for me, I am in desperate need of a clean shirt and I don't have time to run home and get one because I have..” well ****, this wasn't going to go over well at all…”an impromptu coffee date.”
Echo: A brow rose though he couldn't see it, “You have... a... coffee... date.”
Malachai: “Ummm...yes? I will be happy to explain when I get home, but I promise it isn't anything like it sounds.” Malachai cringed at the way she said date, knowing full well the way she stressed that single word could mean bad things, like a day on the couch.
Echo: “You better,” her tone was eerily neutral. “And tell me, what kind of shirt would you like Helga to bring?”
Malachai: “Just a plain t-shirt is fine. Nothing fancy. Black, white, my Kermit the frog, or Cookie Monster. Whatever is easiest to grab for her.” He gave her the name of the street he was on, the glanced at the building and added the address for good measure, “I owe you and Helga big time, Echo.”
Echo: “No kidding. She'll be there soon.” She sighed and shook her head, “Be careful Malachai.”
Malachai: “No worries, Sweetheart. I love you and tell Helga I'll make it up to her.” He laughed softly as he teased, “We can go out to the range together and I'll give her a live target to fire at. Maybe that'll cheer her up.”
Echo: “Only if she can use you as the target. I love you,” she said and then ended the call.
Malachai: When Echo ended the call, he smiled warmly at her and pocketed his phone, “So, I have a clean shirt on the way here if that helps any. I really don’t need an ambulance, I’m not hurt. See?” He lifted the hem of his shirt enough to show her that he had no injuries and no bandages that might indicate any healing injuries. His skin, while inked was unharmed.
Mirella: She just stared at the man and she had indeed frozen in place when he appeared in front of her like magic. “Oh...kay.” She said simply, and then she shrugged. Listening to the nutso couldn’t hurt she guessed. “Sure, I like coffee and after all this,” she swept a hand at him, “I could use some caffeine to get my head on straight. “She eyed him a bit and then ended the call, folding her arms. “What’s your name, I don’t wanna keep calling you “you” or keep saying “hey” it’s irritating. Mine is Mirella. Rell.” She eyed him a little and then tilted her head, putting her hands on her knees. “Oh whatcha got for ink? I got a few myself.”
Malachai: He laughed and shook his head, “You can wait until my clean shirt arrives before I reveal any more ink. Probably looks weird with me standing here in just a shirt in the winter as it is. I hope Helga brings a jacket along too, or I might freeze to death. then you’ll just have to throw the coffee on me to get me to thaw out.”
Name, she’d given hers so he supposed it was only fair he give her something to call him. Something that sounded nicer than hey or you. He thrust a hand in her direction to introduce himself, hoping she would be willing to shake hands as he spoke, “My name’s Malachai Chavez. Mal to my friends. Pleasure to meet you, Mirella. At least, it is so far.” Her name rolled off his tongue with a faint Spanish accent, the accent normally didn’t come to light unless he was talking to Anna and they were going back and forth. Or when he was speaking to his wife in Spanish...or angry and forgot he spoke perfect American since that was his first language.
