Lesson Learned

[Charisma]

Open to: Velveteen

The minutes crept by slowly, and it took all the inner strength she had to not allow her gaze to remain fixated on the clock. She couldn’t will it to turn faster with sheer mind-power, could she? If that was a trait she’d been gifted with, she would have taken advantage of it long ago. Instead, she had been given beauty, money and power. None of which she found useful. In fact, she found it hindered her performance a great deal. With a quiet sigh, she rolled the eraser of her pencil over her lower lip with little care to the fact she was smearing her gloss. Beauty was something she was given, not something she craved. She would wipe all of the make-up off and dress in sweats and be content. Yet, life wouldn’t allow her that. Instead, it chose to focus on fashion and appearance, and if she hoped to make it anywhere in either of her chosen fields, she had to look the part.

“… Isn’t that correct, Ms. St. Claire?”

As usual, the second Professor King settled his attention on her, a hush fell over the room. She never understood why they were so interested in her life. She was no one famous, no one special. Shaking her head, she quickly snapped her pencil from between her teeth and turned her clouded blue eyes to the podium. “I do not know,” she responded breathlessly, her French accent thick with boredom as her mind raced to piece together the lecture she had carelessly daze out on. She knew it had something to do with the paranormal, as was the sole focus of his class. She never had a taste for the unknown, but it was the only elective that she hadn’t suffered through already. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she plastered on a sweet, serene smile and finished her response. “It is a matter of opinion, I am certain. Some would believe that the realm of immortal possibilities exist, but how could we prove it? I do not believe in fantasy, Professor King. Perhaps you should ask one of my more gullible classmates.”

A series of snickers arose from around her, and she simply kept her gaze locked on him as he slowly shook his head. She could see his irritation, but she felt no pity. He was the one that constantly called on her, knowing full well she couldn’t care less about his passion. Before he had a chance to respond, the bell chimed on the hour, and she slammed her book shut and tucked them against her chest. She was always the first one out, and this evening wasn’t any different. By the time her classmates had finished lollygagging about, she was already half-way across campus, her apartment key pressed firmly into her palm. Her building wasn’t for miles, but she had read the reports on the recent attacks. How could she not, when it was all anyone could ever talk about? A few courses in self-defense didn’t make her a professional at being able to counter someone, but it made her feel more comfortable. Her instructor had told her that the key was the easiest weapon of choice, as it could remain hidden and tucked between her fingers. If someone were to try and assault her, she simply had to lash out for their face, and the metal would do the rest.

The knowledge sickened her.

She wasn’t a violent person. In fact, she had done her best to steer clear of any outbursts her entire life. If her father was drunk, she stayed in her room. If someone decided they didn’t like her brutal honesty, she turned on her heel and walked away. Yet, she had somehow managed to find herself in a place that was filled with violence. She had heard the rumors, of course. There were some in the town that believed vampires had taken over, and the audacity amused her to no end. “The power of mass hysteria,” she chuckled into the darkness as she ducked her head, trying to protect her face from the bitter chill of the wind. She hated winter.

In fact, she hated anything cold and damp.

Raking her fingers through her hair, she followed her path home by memory. She didn’t have to tear her gaze from the sidewalk to know where to step. It was as if she were a robot, simply going through the motions. Has it not been like this your entire life? Unbidden, the thought crept into her mind and brought with it the feeling of inadequacy. It never mattered what she did, or how far she pushed herself – there was always that inkling of doubt that told her she was missing out. This time, however, she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Her inner thoughts were shattered by a piercing scream that echoed through the otherwise quiet night, causing her heels to stumble on the pavement.

“What in the world?” Without another thought, the blonde pulled her woolen sweater tighter around her torso and took off in a run, following the fading echo to the source. If she had been born a cat, she never would have made it past the beginning stages of life. She always let curiosity control her, it was the only thrill in her mundane life she had. Perhaps, though, she had gone a step too far. The conclusion came too late as she rounded the corner and fell into the shadowed alleyway, hand pressed securely to the wall and heart in her throat. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been what she saw. Her mind, as intelligent as it was, was simply unable to process the scene. The air held a crimson mist to it, and the sound of a clogged drainpipe had taken over the singular cry from before. It took her a solid minute to realize that the sound was coming from a woman. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips, and her eyes had glassed over, the dull brown staring at the moon as if it could save her.

“Oh my god,” Charisma whimpered, trembling fingers pressing to her lips. Witnessing the death wasn’t the worse thing. No, it was the creature that was huddled over her corpse, his fingers twisting roughly into the woman’s chocolate curls as he snapped her head left and right. The sound of teeth tearing at skin assaulted her senses, and she felt her dinner begin to churn in her stomach. Her sudden whimper had his head snapping up, the woman’s blood coating his face as he bared his teeth – no, were those fangs at her in a territorial manner. Fear had her feet firmly cemented to the ground, and as he tossed the corpse carelessly into to the side and turned to advance on her, she could do nothing but watch.

What have you gotten yourself into, Charisma?

[Velveteen]

Velveteen stood on the roof at the very edge of Beta Towers with her arms outstretched at either side as the wind whipped about her like a million tiny, angry hands , clawing and tugging at anything that they could grasp. Ebony, coloured strands streaked across her pale features and circled her neck before being carried upwards to swirl about her head like a devilish, living mass of serpents, each one about the thickness of finely spun silk. The dull leather that clung to her form like lover’s caress seemed to absorb the small amount the light that came from the stars above and the city lights that shone brightly beneath. If it wasn’t for the almost opalescent quality of her alabaster skin she would appear to be little more than blank space against the night sky. A lone silhouette that would at first not attract a second look except maybe, for the large black wings that sprung from the backs of her shoulders. The blue, black feathers were soft beneath her touch and when completely outstretched each wing would be no shorter than eight feet in length.

Looking over one shoulder she smiled as the feathered appendages moved in unison, slow yet purposefully. She had not quite gotten the hang of taking off from standing at ground level but each time she flew she gained a little more control and grew more comfortable with this new power. It wasn’t like when she shifted into owl form. It wasn’t nearly as natural and she found that she had to concentrate a little harder to have the new additions move as easily and deliberately as she might move an arm. She also found that due to the sheer size and her own body mass that she tired more easily than she did as an owl but she figured that was more due to the newness. Like a toddler learning to walk, the muscles would have to become accustomed to the new motions, the movement committed to memory until it no longer even required conscious thought. Owls were made with wings. People were not.

Velveteen filled her lungs with the cool air, a soothing action rather than a necessary one, and gave herself a quick nod of readiness. She pulled the tiny earbuds from her pocket and stuffed one in each ear before pressing play on the ipod that was then safely zipped into an inside pocket. She had left her weapons behind at the Eyrie, opting not to carry extra weight for now. Music. It relaxed her and as the sounds of Tom Petty’s Learning fly began to sound in her ears she grinned. Such was her sense of humour. She did a little hip wiggle and danced along the edge of the building in time to the music before diving off the edge.

It was instinct still to have her arms outstretched despite the uselessness of the action and opened her eyes to watched the street below come rushing to meet her as the warm air caught her wings and pushed her upwards. Her chin jutted outwards and her neck twisted as the large black wings swept downwards and in turn pushed her upwards. She rolled to the side just in time to miss clipping the side of the next building as Tom sang about how coming down was the hardest thing.The dark haired vampire smirked. It likely wouldn’t be as hard as it would painful. But what the hell. She’d heal….eventually. That was, of course, if her husband didn’t kill her for being so careless first.

Warmer air from the streets below rushed upwards and she laughed as she was carried upwards towards the stars….only to reach the peak and then swoop downwards once more to trace large lazy circles in the air space above above Harper Rock. It was exhilarating. The kind of rush that one could easily become addicted to. She had seen the view from up here through the eyes of an owl but to see it through her own eyes was something completely different. It was nothing short of beautiful. The city from this angle. The sense of aloneness that came from being in a world all one’s own. That was how she felt. Like it was hers. Made just for her. It didn’t matter whether it was or not. Not when she was up there.

It started as a tickling at her senses and her nose crinkled a little, like one who was about to sneeze. It wasn’t a sneeze that was bothering her though but the scent of blood. Fresh human blood and as it grew stronger it became that much harder to ignore. It drew her like a moth to flame and as hunger began to lead her the conscious effort needed to communicate her desires to her wings became less. Too late had it occurred to her that she had left the Eyrie without the comforting menthol vapours that had been keeping her out of trouble. Too late did she realise that if she knew what was good for her she would change direction and get as far away as possible from the source of that scent. What was done was done and already the blood lust had boiled up within her and gripped her senses and sensibilities in a grips so tight that it was all she could think about. All she wanted was to taste that sweet vitae and then gorge on it until she gorge no more.

She had not noticed the human bystander. Nor had she paid much attention to the the rogue that had found himself a new victim. But the blood. She whimpered as she knelt down by the crimson pool tainted by the smell of the earth that soaked it up. The warmth already seeping into the ground and becoming as stale and expired as the heart that it came from. Brown lifeless eyes stared up at the stars and Velveteen felt rage twist in her gut and rush to the surface like molten lava. How ******* dare they waste such a thing. She was not so far gone that she might have tried to drain the last drops from the already dead corpse. If there was a heartbeat….maybe. But now she turned her anger on the rogue. Instinct had her going for a gun that was not there and that was enough to bring her back to the here and now, but now what?

For a single moment Velveteen caught the frightened gaze of the woman near the opening of the alley and for a single moment more Velveteen thought she was seeing a ghost. She looked familiar. Like someone who had been very important to the vampire once but had been gone for a long time now. The rogue was advancing on the blonde and without any weapons she had no hope of killing him before he had ripped the human’s throat out, and if he did that….Velveteen would likely end up fighting him for a share of the prize. She shook her head, completely unaware of the fact that her wings were still very visible even if tucked in neatly at her back. The rogue could wait. They would hunt him later...but for now, saving the humans was her priority. Velveteen could smell her. The fear that oozed through every pore made her seem so vulnerable. It was also evident that she couldn’t possibly be who Vel first thought she was.

Without any further though Velveteen leaned forward and with a small boost of celerity she had moved past the rogue and swept the woman up in one arm before spreading her wings and soaring upwards. The speed garnered from the short sprint more then enough to allow her to catch the upward draft and rise steadily up and away from the scene of the crime. Except now she had a human attached to her and no way of explaining any of this.

[Charisma]

It seemed as if time had ceased to exist. The air that had chilled her to the bone only seconds prior had seemed to evaporate as she stood numb at the mouth of the alley, eyes transfixed on the man – no, creature – that was advancing ever so slowly in her direction. It wasn’t that he was finding his way towards her that had her so terrified, nor was it the way he leered at her as if she was the most delicious morsel his eyes had ever seen. No, it was the way he moved. Each step was steady and sure, his blood red smile confidant with a knowledge that he wasn’t willing to share with her, but one she felt in every beat of her racing heart. She was dead. This was never a position she thought to find herself in, nor was it something she had ever dreamed of. Even her nightmares had failed to prepare her for this battle, and in the back of her mind, she could only think of one person that had tried to warn her. She could almost see his triumphant smile in her minds eyes, and even facing down death, she could only think of how much she utterly loathed him. If she survived this, she was so dropping his class.

Get a grip, Charisma. Vampires are not real.

No, of course they weren’t, she was simply falling prey to the hysterical media in her moment of panic. There were a handful of other, more logical, explanations to what she had witnessed. However, she could not seem to think of a single one as the grotesque monster craned his head to the left as he gave an animalistic laugh that set her teeth on edge. Every ounce of training she had just been thinking of minutes ago had fled her mind, the metal of the key weighing heavily in her numbed fingers. There wasn’t a single thing she could do, and she wondered briefly if he had weaved some kind of spell over her. There had only been one other time in the entirety of her life that she had been rendered useless and ironically enough, it had been the only other time that she had balanced so precariously over the threshold to death’s door. She had no intentions of repeating history, either.

She was a woman of power and intellect, there should be absolutely no reason that she stand as if she had been made of stone! Perhaps it was something in the air, a drug that had been in the poor woman’s blood that now swirled in the wind like a fine mist. She could taste the sweet copper on her lips as she parted them, finally finding some amount of inner strength to voice her thoughts to the man. Perhaps she could take sense into him, if of course, drugs were the cause of all of this disaster. She could keep him distracted long enough to dial for help – as long as she could get her voice box to cooperate. It seemed, though, that she would never know, for the moment she finally managed to shake the panic from her throat, another form dropped from the sky.

For a moment, she hadn’t the slightest clue what she was seeing. How was one to rationalize the sight of a woman that looked as if she belonged in a Gothic horror flick with wings the color of the richest onyx spanning the width of the alley? For the longest time, Charisma was at a loss of who she was to fear more. It didn’t matter that the man was a hairbreadth away from sinking his bloodied teeth into her skin, because she felt as if she would be safer in his arms. A warning bell chimed in her head, trying to tell her something that she wasn't ready to admit to herself. Even after all that had transpired in the past two minutes of her life, she still refused to accept that something unnatural was at the root of the danger. As the woman turned to face them directly, the chime in her head grew louder, banging against her skull as if it was begging her to open her mind to it. The bell had become words, something she had heard only recently, but they were jumbled and twisted as if trying to push through fog. She couldn’t quite place it, and she didn’t have the luxury of trying to decipher them.

One second, she was standing still, locked in panic and disbelief, and the next she was airborne. Her first thought was that the creature had thrown her away from him to salvage his kill from the beautiful winged creature, but she never felt an impact from the brick. That, she felt, would have been merciful compared to the other option. The second option was one that she did not want to comprehend or even think of, and yet, she knew that it was the only one left. She did not have to possess a doctorate to know what had happened, nor did she have to open her eyes to see who held her so securely. She could feel the soft contours of her body through the clothes she wore, and she found herself clinging to the woman despite herself. She knew if she were to look down, she would see the city fading beneath her fashionable heels as the wind whipped through her blonde curls, surrounding them in the faint scent of her Black Amethyst perfume. It was the only thing of comfort she had left as a new kind of panic filled her lungs and caused her to choke. There was so much she wanted to say - no, scream - but she couldn't. She could feel the words burning in her throat, the words that would surely offer her no help, but demanded to be voiced anyways. It was her curse, her disease, to be honest in all situations. Even in situations that were surely going to lead to her death, but she hadn't another choice. Taking a breath to ensure that she wouldn't scream at the woman, she parted her lips, her French accent thick and terrified as the words rolled from her tongue:


“I am terrified of heights. Could you please put me down?”

[Velveteen]

“Then don’t look down.” Came the short response making it plainly obvious that she had no intentions of putting her down. Not yet and not here. She might have already been seen leaving, she was not about to take the chance of being seen and identified. Right now Velveteen was fairly certain that that none who may have witnessed the scene would be able to give any details. That was,none except for the one woman who hung precariously from her arms currently with not a single clue as to what would happen next.

She could simply drop her. From this height it was doubtful she would survive. Though not only would it be messy it would raise a lot of questions.

The dark haired vampire was too busy on keeping the pair aloft to give it too much thought right now. This flying business still required a fair amount of concentration on her part and she was beginning to grow tired. The extra weight was not helping either as her large onyx whinges caught the air beneath them to lift the pair up once more before she stretched them full span to glide silently through the night above the treetops.

It was pure instinct that had her heading towards the Andras lair and Velveteen was almost surprised when the small clearing came into view ahead, though it was quite indiscernible to anyone without the luxury of vampyric vision from this distance and in the dark. There was only one problem. Landing while carrying the extra weight was not something that was going to be achieved gracefully. The tip of her right wing dipped as she changed direction and headed toward the river instead. Each heavy, downward sweep was becoming increasingly wearing as the woman’s energy levels dropped more drastically, increasing the speed of their descent.

Velveteen closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch. Her lips moved as she silently willed herself to keep going lest the pair both end up impaled on some random tree top. She counted in her head and opened her arms. If all went well the human would end up having her fall broken the dark, depths of the river below. She would end up wet and cold but alive...for now and Velveteen might manage to land with her dignity in tact as well as buy herself a little time.

It didn’t even occur to her to wonder if the female could even swim until after she had left her grip. Too late now.

She opened her eyes and for the briefest of moments, victory was hers. There was a loud splash before the waters surface rushed up to meet her. Her mysterious, feathered appendages stretched out wide to catch as much air as possible in a bid to slow her down before they disappeared completely. Her feet came down and her heels jutted slightly forward whilst she bent her knees and braced for the impact, ready to run off the momentum without ending up underwater herself.