Stripper Heels and Wicked Feels
Posted: 29 Aug 2015, 01:32
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Freyja>I can almost touch it…
Have I ever even seen a purple unicorn before?
I really don’t think I have. God, it’s perfect. And she’s perfect, too. I must taste her.
Freyja leaned across the bar, giving a light, musical laugh at the woman’s joke. She hadn’t really heard. She’d barely been paying attention. She’d just watched her mouth as it moved, the way the pulsing colors of light shimmered across the glossy sheen of her lips. She was high. Most of the club was high.
White Rabbit had been a much bigger hit than she had thought it would be. People liked the mystery, piecing together the puzzle. She left clues around town, little white rabbits painted onto the sides of buildings, street signs, billboards. Anywhere that might strike an idea about a time or place. Her patrons had to communicate, to try and piece the puzzle together. It formed a sort of community among the crowd. Everyone here was close, save for the lucky randoms. Each night, two new random individuals were clued into the how and why the club worked the way it worked. Each night someone new decided to follow the white rabbit, her patronage grew.
More importantly, though, the club was another front for her more illicit trades. Often, her businesses were used to pass things normally unobtainable by more traditional or legal methods. Usually drugs, or, for those like her, with a thirst for something more, trafficking in people among the vampire community. She had found more than a fair share of willing blood donors once their minds were nearly melted with X, and nearly stewed in endorphins. Good drugs and better sex made humans very… compliant.
It was a double-edged sword, however, for vampires like Freyja. She was not immune to the intoxications of faculty-altering substances. Feeding from someone as high as the woman across from her would buzz her faster than a bottle of liquor. She was completely okay with that, too.
She smiled, that coy, sexy smirk as she laid her manicured nails across the back of the woman’s hand, before she leaned across the bar and pushed a kiss to those soft lips. She tasted like bubblegum and vodka. Freyja loved it.
The woman turned a bright shade of red and stammered an excuse to go to the bathroom to collect herself, hands pushing through her curly golden mane. It made Freyja chuckle. She didn’t know the woman’s name, but she knew she had been there several nights now, always watching her from a seat at the bar. It didn’t matter where she was, on the dance floor having a good time, running the bar, or hosting guests in the v.i.p. lounge, the lusty-eyed little nobody was always there, staring. She figured that tonight was the night to finally shut the trap on the little mouse.
She waited a beat, swaying her hips to the music as she remained rested against the bar before she stood straight, turning to her bartenders, Lucy, Rosetta, and Luca. She flashed them a brilliant smile. “Ladies, I’m off to the floor. Treat my customers. A round of shots for everyone at the bar. On the house!” A cheer went up from the bar as the tenders exchanged an exasperated, but amused glance, before setting to pouring shots as orders were shouted to them. The tall, Amazonian woman placed her hands on her hips and watched the commotion for a moment, pleased.
Her people loved their work, and the public loved their work. This place was an easy distraction. A place you could get lost in. She grinned, then, and turned to follow the shimmering rainbow that the skinny blonde had left in her wake, trailing all the way to the bathrooms in the back of the abandoned warehouse that had been appropriated for the evening’s venue.
This was a prime hunting ground, and she was a perfect predator.
Everywhere around her, men and women alike danced to the music, the thrumming bass moving through their bodies like audible cocaine. Their bodies became boneless, fluid in the thundering beat. The entire room smelled of sweat and lust, and the absolute frenzy made it easy to slip through the entire crowd with only the occasional yearning leers, far from the suspicious glares that she got during her nightly crawl of the streets, looking for food.
This makes things so much easier.
She slipped into the bathroom in silence. They were alone. The glittered gold of her stilettoes sparkled in the harsh fluorescent light of the spacious lavatory as she entered. She found the scrawny blonde leaning over a sink, applying gloss to her lips. She smirked, and slowly stalked toward the woman, until she was standing over her. She leaned down, her chin nearly resting on the woman’s shoulder and she smiled. “What do you say we make this night interesting?”
The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, her lips parting on a scream that never made it from her throat. Dark brown eyes went wide in horror as a thin hand clamped down roughly over her mouth, silencing her. Fangs slid from the taller woman’s gums with a sick, wet pop before plunging into her throat.
The blonde screamed in agony against the vice grip of Freyja’s hand, blunt teeth fighting for purchase against her skin. The vampire drank with vigor, her stomach growling, aching as she fed. The horror-stricken eyes slowly glazed as the woman’s struggles became weak, her open palms slapping almost lightly at Freyja’s hand before they fell limply at the woman’s sides. Her eyes looked in the mirror, confusion the last expression on her face as she watched her body moved lightly, the vampire’s reflection absent.
Trailing her tongue across the wound, licking a few remaining dregs from the skin, Freyja gave a quiet, content sigh as she lifted the woman’s chin to force her to look into the mirror. Glazed, unfocused eyes stared into one another as she weakly writhed against the tall vampiress. “Fighting until the end… I have half a mind to keep you.”
She smirked, and placed her palm on the back of the woman’s head. With a sickening crunch, she twisted the woman’s head to the left, causing her body to jump in her grasp, a sharp ‘yelp’ leaving her covered lips as she went limp. Unsatisfied, Freyja gave another twist, this one to the right, earning another wet crunch, before she dropped the body, sending her falling into the floor like a sack of rubbish.
Using the toe of her expensive pump, she kicked the woman over onto her back, before she knelt down over the drained corpse. “Too bad for you, baby. It was only half a mind.”
She reached into the woman’s dress, fingers dipping into her bra to remove her driver’s license and a small stash of cash. At least then, it looked like a robbery gone wrong.
Taking the limp corpse by the wrists, she dragged the woman into a stall and dumped her body against a toilet. For the night, at least, she’d look like she’d passed out drunk. She would have to make sure the scene was convincing. An accident should prove easy to replicate.
Licking her lips, Freyja grinned into the mirror. The human hadn’t seen anything there, but she could see herself plain as day. She was stunning. She always was. She lifted her hands, running them through her curls and taking a slow breath before she winked to her reflection and turned, stepping back into the stall with the broken corpse.
She lowered herself to the floor, mindful of its proximity to the flesh of her knee as she avoided contact. She gripped the woman’s chin and lifted her head from the toilet seat, a grinding, crackling sound accompanied each movement as she turned the head gently one way then the other, her grin wide with satisfaction. She really did enjoy the kill. Almost too much.
Almost.
She dropped the woman’s head, letting her cheek meet the ceramic seat with a soft clap of flesh. She reached into the corpse’s discarded bag, and fished out her phone. She flipped it open, and swiftly slammed the cheap plastic against the floor. The screen cracked, and the frame snapped at the hinge, leaving it hanging loosely by the wires that connected the screen to the power supply.
She uncurled the woman’s fingers and pushed the broken phone into her palm. Her flesh was still warm, but so much cooler than she had been only moments ago. The blood loss would do that, she knew. She had to cover for that, too. She hadn’t thought about that.
She pulled the woman up by a handful of her hair, and examined her face. She really had been quite pretty. It made the Dane feel guilty, mortified even, for what she was about to do. Holding the woman’s head, she turned her ever so slightly, before she sent the body flying into the wall of the stall. Her skull impacted the round assistance bar of the handicap stall, her temple caving with a sick crunch.
Blood splashed over the rail and dripped down her ruined face. Freyja frowned. “I really am so sorry I had to do that...” She whispered gently to the corpse, a steady hand pushing the golden curls from her blank face. “It was for a good reason, at least.”
She stood and stepped away from the body to examine her work.
No one would notice the body until the next morning, and she was fed. She could relax, and enjoy the fuzzy tingling that slowly crept its way through her body as the tainted blood filled her veins.
It was going to be ******* fabulous night. She just needed to find her phone. She frowned again, and saw it lying in the floor beneath the woman’s leg. It had fallen in the shuffling of the body. Gingerly, she stepped over the small puddle of blood and lifted the dead weight of the leg to reach for her phone.
<Caligrace> Did I turn off the microwave?
Do you even turn off a microwave?
What if I didn’t?
Oh, god. I have my thesis due tomorrow morning.
Did I finish it?
Oh my god. Was that thunder?!
I should probably go home…
Crumbling the small white rabbit in her palm, Caligrace tipped her head back to inspect the abandoned warehouse. She could practically see the bass as it vibrated the bricks, sending bits of dust dancing in the single street light that illuminated the entryway. It hadn’t taken Elin long to piece together the puzzle, and it had taken her an even shorter amount to somehow talk her into joining her at the event. The White Rabbit had been the talk of the campus for days now. Somehow, some unknown club owner had managed to get every college students tongue wagging – even those that couldn’t piece together the complex puzzle that had been laid out for them. Personally, Caligrace thought it was very dangerous business venture. There was absolutely no guarantee that anyone would be invested enough in finding the clues laid about Harper Rock – not to mention that even if they did, who would want to travel in the middle of the night to an unknown location where absolutely anything could happen?
“Obviously, that would be you,” she muttered to herself as she stepped back, teeth sinking into her lower lip. She had already wore the sensitive skin down, and the pain that shot through her nerves caused her to cringe. Lifting her hand, she gingerly pressed her fingertips to scraped flesh as she stared once again at the door. The music inside was loud enough to be heard out on the streets – but yet, it hadn’t attracted any attention. It seemed as if either everyone was inside – or they were all keeping their distance. I should really go home. The thought entered her mind once again, and she quickly shook her head. She needed to stop this. She needed a night of normalcy. She had been hindered for days with the heavy burden of her classwork, and she knew that she had worried her best friend to the point of frustration. She could still hear the way the brunette had practically screamed at her for keeping herself locked away in their room for hours on end. She knew that the other had tried to understand, but she also knew that it was next to impossible for her to.
She wasn’t constantly haunted by the voices.
They were too loud, too constant as they put up invisible walls that lead to disappointment. She couldn’t climb over the obstacles that were thrown in her way. Her mind was a place where everything could – and would – go wrong. She was plagued by anxiety, and it made her life one hell of a ride. She had to constantly remain vigilant, because she knew the second she let her guard down – something bad would happen. It was another reason why she was trying to convince herself to go home. It was as if her mind and her heart were at war with each other. Her heart wanted her to live a normal life and her mind wanted to protect her from the world. Shaking her head, she pushed her hands through her loose curls in irritation and took a step back from the door. It was growing late, and yet the music was still pumping from the speakers as if it had absolutely no intention of stopping anytime soon. She knew she had to make a choice – she could either go inside or tell Elin that she had to pull another all-nighter.
“You’re going inside, Caligrace.” The determination in her voice was palpable, and she found herself straightening her shoulders. She needed to do this. She needed to overcome her mental illness, to be human. Just for one night. Before she could change her mind, the redhead gripped the rusty handle and twisted it, the door swinging open as if it was weightless. The noise within assaulted her at once, the neon flashing lights blinding her for a solid second before her vision adjusted. She almost turned and fled right then – but was halted by a beefy hand on her bicep. The muscled man practically yanked her off her feet as he pulled her and slammed the door shut behind her. He didn’t speak, and instead offered her a drunken grin before lumbering back off into the crowd. Well, that was ******* strange.
“--- On the house!”
Any thought she had on leaving was wiped clean the moment those three words were shouted from the bar.
<Freyja>I can almost touch it…
Have I ever even seen a purple unicorn before?
I really don’t think I have. God, it’s perfect. And she’s perfect, too. I must taste her.
Freyja leaned across the bar, giving a light, musical laugh at the woman’s joke. She hadn’t really heard. She’d barely been paying attention. She’d just watched her mouth as it moved, the way the pulsing colors of light shimmered across the glossy sheen of her lips. She was high. Most of the club was high.
White Rabbit had been a much bigger hit than she had thought it would be. People liked the mystery, piecing together the puzzle. She left clues around town, little white rabbits painted onto the sides of buildings, street signs, billboards. Anywhere that might strike an idea about a time or place. Her patrons had to communicate, to try and piece the puzzle together. It formed a sort of community among the crowd. Everyone here was close, save for the lucky randoms. Each night, two new random individuals were clued into the how and why the club worked the way it worked. Each night someone new decided to follow the white rabbit, her patronage grew.
More importantly, though, the club was another front for her more illicit trades. Often, her businesses were used to pass things normally unobtainable by more traditional or legal methods. Usually drugs, or, for those like her, with a thirst for something more, trafficking in people among the vampire community. She had found more than a fair share of willing blood donors once their minds were nearly melted with X, and nearly stewed in endorphins. Good drugs and better sex made humans very… compliant.
It was a double-edged sword, however, for vampires like Freyja. She was not immune to the intoxications of faculty-altering substances. Feeding from someone as high as the woman across from her would buzz her faster than a bottle of liquor. She was completely okay with that, too.
She smiled, that coy, sexy smirk as she laid her manicured nails across the back of the woman’s hand, before she leaned across the bar and pushed a kiss to those soft lips. She tasted like bubblegum and vodka. Freyja loved it.
The woman turned a bright shade of red and stammered an excuse to go to the bathroom to collect herself, hands pushing through her curly golden mane. It made Freyja chuckle. She didn’t know the woman’s name, but she knew she had been there several nights now, always watching her from a seat at the bar. It didn’t matter where she was, on the dance floor having a good time, running the bar, or hosting guests in the v.i.p. lounge, the lusty-eyed little nobody was always there, staring. She figured that tonight was the night to finally shut the trap on the little mouse.
She waited a beat, swaying her hips to the music as she remained rested against the bar before she stood straight, turning to her bartenders, Lucy, Rosetta, and Luca. She flashed them a brilliant smile. “Ladies, I’m off to the floor. Treat my customers. A round of shots for everyone at the bar. On the house!” A cheer went up from the bar as the tenders exchanged an exasperated, but amused glance, before setting to pouring shots as orders were shouted to them. The tall, Amazonian woman placed her hands on her hips and watched the commotion for a moment, pleased.
Her people loved their work, and the public loved their work. This place was an easy distraction. A place you could get lost in. She grinned, then, and turned to follow the shimmering rainbow that the skinny blonde had left in her wake, trailing all the way to the bathrooms in the back of the abandoned warehouse that had been appropriated for the evening’s venue.
This was a prime hunting ground, and she was a perfect predator.
Everywhere around her, men and women alike danced to the music, the thrumming bass moving through their bodies like audible cocaine. Their bodies became boneless, fluid in the thundering beat. The entire room smelled of sweat and lust, and the absolute frenzy made it easy to slip through the entire crowd with only the occasional yearning leers, far from the suspicious glares that she got during her nightly crawl of the streets, looking for food.
This makes things so much easier.
She slipped into the bathroom in silence. They were alone. The glittered gold of her stilettoes sparkled in the harsh fluorescent light of the spacious lavatory as she entered. She found the scrawny blonde leaning over a sink, applying gloss to her lips. She smirked, and slowly stalked toward the woman, until she was standing over her. She leaned down, her chin nearly resting on the woman’s shoulder and she smiled. “What do you say we make this night interesting?”
The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, her lips parting on a scream that never made it from her throat. Dark brown eyes went wide in horror as a thin hand clamped down roughly over her mouth, silencing her. Fangs slid from the taller woman’s gums with a sick, wet pop before plunging into her throat.
The blonde screamed in agony against the vice grip of Freyja’s hand, blunt teeth fighting for purchase against her skin. The vampire drank with vigor, her stomach growling, aching as she fed. The horror-stricken eyes slowly glazed as the woman’s struggles became weak, her open palms slapping almost lightly at Freyja’s hand before they fell limply at the woman’s sides. Her eyes looked in the mirror, confusion the last expression on her face as she watched her body moved lightly, the vampire’s reflection absent.
Trailing her tongue across the wound, licking a few remaining dregs from the skin, Freyja gave a quiet, content sigh as she lifted the woman’s chin to force her to look into the mirror. Glazed, unfocused eyes stared into one another as she weakly writhed against the tall vampiress. “Fighting until the end… I have half a mind to keep you.”
She smirked, and placed her palm on the back of the woman’s head. With a sickening crunch, she twisted the woman’s head to the left, causing her body to jump in her grasp, a sharp ‘yelp’ leaving her covered lips as she went limp. Unsatisfied, Freyja gave another twist, this one to the right, earning another wet crunch, before she dropped the body, sending her falling into the floor like a sack of rubbish.
Using the toe of her expensive pump, she kicked the woman over onto her back, before she knelt down over the drained corpse. “Too bad for you, baby. It was only half a mind.”
She reached into the woman’s dress, fingers dipping into her bra to remove her driver’s license and a small stash of cash. At least then, it looked like a robbery gone wrong.
Taking the limp corpse by the wrists, she dragged the woman into a stall and dumped her body against a toilet. For the night, at least, she’d look like she’d passed out drunk. She would have to make sure the scene was convincing. An accident should prove easy to replicate.
Licking her lips, Freyja grinned into the mirror. The human hadn’t seen anything there, but she could see herself plain as day. She was stunning. She always was. She lifted her hands, running them through her curls and taking a slow breath before she winked to her reflection and turned, stepping back into the stall with the broken corpse.
She lowered herself to the floor, mindful of its proximity to the flesh of her knee as she avoided contact. She gripped the woman’s chin and lifted her head from the toilet seat, a grinding, crackling sound accompanied each movement as she turned the head gently one way then the other, her grin wide with satisfaction. She really did enjoy the kill. Almost too much.
Almost.
She dropped the woman’s head, letting her cheek meet the ceramic seat with a soft clap of flesh. She reached into the corpse’s discarded bag, and fished out her phone. She flipped it open, and swiftly slammed the cheap plastic against the floor. The screen cracked, and the frame snapped at the hinge, leaving it hanging loosely by the wires that connected the screen to the power supply.
She uncurled the woman’s fingers and pushed the broken phone into her palm. Her flesh was still warm, but so much cooler than she had been only moments ago. The blood loss would do that, she knew. She had to cover for that, too. She hadn’t thought about that.
She pulled the woman up by a handful of her hair, and examined her face. She really had been quite pretty. It made the Dane feel guilty, mortified even, for what she was about to do. Holding the woman’s head, she turned her ever so slightly, before she sent the body flying into the wall of the stall. Her skull impacted the round assistance bar of the handicap stall, her temple caving with a sick crunch.
Blood splashed over the rail and dripped down her ruined face. Freyja frowned. “I really am so sorry I had to do that...” She whispered gently to the corpse, a steady hand pushing the golden curls from her blank face. “It was for a good reason, at least.”
She stood and stepped away from the body to examine her work.
No one would notice the body until the next morning, and she was fed. She could relax, and enjoy the fuzzy tingling that slowly crept its way through her body as the tainted blood filled her veins.
It was going to be ******* fabulous night. She just needed to find her phone. She frowned again, and saw it lying in the floor beneath the woman’s leg. It had fallen in the shuffling of the body. Gingerly, she stepped over the small puddle of blood and lifted the dead weight of the leg to reach for her phone.
<Caligrace> Did I turn off the microwave?
Do you even turn off a microwave?
What if I didn’t?
Oh, god. I have my thesis due tomorrow morning.
Did I finish it?
Oh my god. Was that thunder?!
I should probably go home…
Crumbling the small white rabbit in her palm, Caligrace tipped her head back to inspect the abandoned warehouse. She could practically see the bass as it vibrated the bricks, sending bits of dust dancing in the single street light that illuminated the entryway. It hadn’t taken Elin long to piece together the puzzle, and it had taken her an even shorter amount to somehow talk her into joining her at the event. The White Rabbit had been the talk of the campus for days now. Somehow, some unknown club owner had managed to get every college students tongue wagging – even those that couldn’t piece together the complex puzzle that had been laid out for them. Personally, Caligrace thought it was very dangerous business venture. There was absolutely no guarantee that anyone would be invested enough in finding the clues laid about Harper Rock – not to mention that even if they did, who would want to travel in the middle of the night to an unknown location where absolutely anything could happen?
“Obviously, that would be you,” she muttered to herself as she stepped back, teeth sinking into her lower lip. She had already wore the sensitive skin down, and the pain that shot through her nerves caused her to cringe. Lifting her hand, she gingerly pressed her fingertips to scraped flesh as she stared once again at the door. The music inside was loud enough to be heard out on the streets – but yet, it hadn’t attracted any attention. It seemed as if either everyone was inside – or they were all keeping their distance. I should really go home. The thought entered her mind once again, and she quickly shook her head. She needed to stop this. She needed a night of normalcy. She had been hindered for days with the heavy burden of her classwork, and she knew that she had worried her best friend to the point of frustration. She could still hear the way the brunette had practically screamed at her for keeping herself locked away in their room for hours on end. She knew that the other had tried to understand, but she also knew that it was next to impossible for her to.
She wasn’t constantly haunted by the voices.
They were too loud, too constant as they put up invisible walls that lead to disappointment. She couldn’t climb over the obstacles that were thrown in her way. Her mind was a place where everything could – and would – go wrong. She was plagued by anxiety, and it made her life one hell of a ride. She had to constantly remain vigilant, because she knew the second she let her guard down – something bad would happen. It was another reason why she was trying to convince herself to go home. It was as if her mind and her heart were at war with each other. Her heart wanted her to live a normal life and her mind wanted to protect her from the world. Shaking her head, she pushed her hands through her loose curls in irritation and took a step back from the door. It was growing late, and yet the music was still pumping from the speakers as if it had absolutely no intention of stopping anytime soon. She knew she had to make a choice – she could either go inside or tell Elin that she had to pull another all-nighter.
“You’re going inside, Caligrace.” The determination in her voice was palpable, and she found herself straightening her shoulders. She needed to do this. She needed to overcome her mental illness, to be human. Just for one night. Before she could change her mind, the redhead gripped the rusty handle and twisted it, the door swinging open as if it was weightless. The noise within assaulted her at once, the neon flashing lights blinding her for a solid second before her vision adjusted. She almost turned and fled right then – but was halted by a beefy hand on her bicep. The muscled man practically yanked her off her feet as he pulled her and slammed the door shut behind her. He didn’t speak, and instead offered her a drunken grin before lumbering back off into the crowd. Well, that was ******* strange.
“--- On the house!”
Any thought she had on leaving was wiped clean the moment those three words were shouted from the bar.