Path of the Vampire forum

<Starla> Stopping short in the storefront of the café, Starla checked herself in the weak reflection of the glass door. Her hair was immaculate, not a single strand of the spun gold out of its place. Her eyes, pools of a powerful, sweet honeyed color stared back at her. She was hot, and she knew it. If this Ivara wasn’t blind, they’d know it, too. Landing this job should be the easiest thing she’d done since she stepped off the Leer at the airport. Actually wanting the job was really standing in her way, though. Starla hadn’t worked a real job a day in her life, and she had no idea how she was supposed to start now, while she was supposed to be screening candidates for her PGL team.

The problem here was that the sponsor’s cash had stopped rolling in. They’d failed to place in last year’s tournament, and with the offseason and the lack of real advertisement opportunity, the prospect of her bank account seeing a reimbursement from her sponsors was incredibly slim. Coupled with the fact that her mother had yelled at her the last time she’d called home asking for money, she doubted that she would see much relief from either of her parents. Her father was a wonderful man, and an amazing parent, as was her mother, but when their minds were set, they were set. They were making a stand, and insisting that Starla get a real education.

As if.

She pushed open the front door and stepped inside, her hand rising to the silver chain that hung loosely about her throat, the tips of her nails turning the small locket idly as she approached a hostess. “I’m here for an interview?” she said with a flash of her brilliant smile. The girl behind the bar looked at her with a sort of demure smirk as she looked her over. Graphic white tee and tight, hip-hugging black jeans. Nothing extraordinary on the average girl, but mind-blowing on her figure. She waited patiently as the stick-like waif drifted back into the office to alert her boss, without a word to the blonde.

At least, that’s what she hoped was going on.

Ivara: “Your eight o’clock is here.”

The soft spoken words broke through the thoughts of her mind, and she snapped her wary gaze from the documents in front of her with a frown. “My… what?” Fighting to keep her voice even, she cast Ayanna a bored stare, her eyes shielded beneath a fringe of auburn. “Your interview? For… for the lead IT position?” The slender creature worked the words past her lips, her nerves clearly written across her face. Ivara made her uncomfortable - in more ways than one. As her assistant reached up to cup her small hand around the back of her neck, she tossed her pen onto the desk and swept her gaze to the clock, that perpetual frown marring her angelic features.

“It’s ten after,” she pointed out, Icelandic accent heavy with her irritation. Tapping one long, painted nail against the file, she swallowed a groan. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’ve got a thousand things to do, and I still have my thesis to prepare for…” Mind racing with that never ending mental checklist, she pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded once. “Let her in.” As if needing nothing more said, Ayanna practically scampered from the room, her heel catching on the carpet and nearly sending her falling to her knees before she caught herself on the counter. Collecting herself with a flush to her cheeks, she presented the blonde with a timid smile.

“Miss Johansson will see you now, but please, make it quick.”

Catching the statement, Ivara couldn’t contain the half-smile that curved her painted lips. For all of her mistakes, her flaws - her absolute clumsiness - Ayanna was quick. It was the only reason she survived as long as she had in her world - and not the world she was presented with recently. No, embracing vampirism had been the easiest thing she’d ever done.

Surviving the world of law? Now, that was another story.

With a quick step, she pulled herself from her chair and stepped around her desk, her long legs crossing at the ankles as she leaned back, awaiting this late applicant. The moment the door opened, she barely cast her a glance as she held out her hand. “Resumé.”

<Starla> The girl’s clumsiness was charming. She wasn’t hard to look at, either, and her nervousness was almost adorable. Starla had to subdue a chuckle at the girl as she nodded her head to the instructions she offered. The small blonde pulled her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry. It won’t take any longer than it has to.” She lifted her hand, and offered the woman the chance to lead her into the office. With the door opened for her, the fledgling vampire was almost taken aback by the owner’s curtness, but was almost floored with the slender figure that presented itself so neatly in an outfit she had hardly expected of someone taking interviews. She was a lot less worried about the casual attire.

She gave a sheepish grin at the woman’s outheld hand and she reached into her back pocket, her resumé neatly tucked there for safekeeping. She unfolded it, and held it out to the tall brunette. She found herself staring, and happy that an interview called for a good attentive appearance, because it was going to be difficult to let her eyes roam away from this one. She cleared her throat quietly and hooked her hair behind her ear. “I’m afraid it’s a little light…” she started, worried that the brevity of the document would already see her out the door, before she even had the chance to show off her skill. “I have a lot of experience, just… nothing really official.” She explained, painfully aware of how the entire display seemed incredibly feeble. She’d spent her entire life living on her parent’s fortune and her own fame. She doubted this woman had ever heard of her, and her parents had cut her off. She floundered without the support.

Ivara: As Ayanna pulled the door shut behind them, Ivara finally allowed herself to take a good look at the woman. With a body to die for, she was attractive. No, that didn’t exactly cover it - she was delicious. Curves that begged to be touched, a face that would make the strongest of men weep, and hair the color of the sun, she was a goddess. Of course, her quick assessment was no more than a flick of her gaze and she was moving back around the desk, as if she hadn’t the time of day for someone so obviously out of their element.

“Take a seat,” she said with that same emotionless tone, her hand smoothing down the crease in the paper. “First rule: Don’t fold your resumé. It’s unprofessional.” Tapping her nail against her name, she rolled her tongue across her lower lip and only half-listened as she rambled on. Usually, she would have held up a hand to silence her, but her honeyed voice was something to behold. “Starla Wolfe. Interesting name,” she hummed, finally tearing her gaze from the lackluster page to scan her golden gaze with a raised brow. “I’ll be honest, this is basically an alien language to me. I opened this café for my sister. She’s always wanted one, but she lacks the responsibility and the drive to do something other than -- “

Catching herself in the midst of her rant, she cleared her throat. “I apologize. That was unprofessional of me.” With a quick smile, she ran her fingers through her hair and leaned back. “Tell me, Miss Wolfe. You’re wearing the latest Gucci line, and that chain around your neck cost more than Ayanna ever hopes to make in six years. Why on earth would you want to work here?”

<Starla> Offering another demure smile, Starla worked a lock of her hair around her finger. “Right, sorry…” she said with a small laugh, taking the seat that she was offered before she ended up falling flat on her face. She was far from nervous, but she was acting like some kind of a schoolgirl before her first lay. It had to be the combination of pre-job jitters and the woman’s devastating good looks. How did anyone hope to come in here and not tumble all over their own tongue trying to talk to her? She shook her head to herself as the woman went over her resumé, with hardly a glance at her. It brought a purse of her lips as she tried to struggle with her disappointment. She’d hoped to dazzle her way through this interview.

She let her lips twist into a smile as the woman caught herself in the middle of a bit of personal information and she shook her head. “No, it’s quite alright. I think I like the sound of your sister.” She chuckled and turned her hand on her wrist, her silver watch hanging loose about the slender joint. “It can be a little confusing for anyone that doesn’t know a computer, Misses Johansson.” She said in a friendly tone, her warm grin reflecting her voice of honeyed gold as she leaned closer, arms collecting her ample chest as she loomed over the edge of the desk.

She lowered her voice, as if to keep what she was about to say to her away from prying ears. “I’m a little keen on keeping my place, and money isn’t exactly forthcoming right now, you know? My… previous engagement seems to have fallen through for a little while, and I need something to keep the bills paid. I can’t expect my roommates to pay everything for me, you know?”

Ivara: The woman before her was a hellcat, that was obvious from the moment she opened her mouth. It was in the spark of her eyes, the way she ran her hand through her hair as if she could own the world with that move alone. It was impressive - and it was also a pointless attempt on her part. The way she leaned forward and pursed her lips, the pressure to put her breasts on display - it did nothing to set her mind one way or the other. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and raised a brow, her eyes focused on hers - and nothing else.

You would put my wife to shame.

The thought unbidden, she tapped her nails against her resumé and gave a slow smile. “You are not involved in anything illegal, are you, Miss Wolfe?” Her eyes sparked with a fire that lit her entire gaze like a lightning storm, and she slowed her tapping as she shifted in her seat. Reaching out, she pressed her finger on the intercom, and Ayanna’s voice filled the air. “Run a background check on Starla Wolfe, please.” As the affirmative rang over the speaker, she sat back and tilted her head.

“Liking my sister won’t win you any points. She is irresponsible and annoying most nights. Now, enough about things that aren’t of any concern. What are your ambitions? Where did you obtain your skill - and if hired, would you make that incessant beeping stop?” Her voice turned to ice as the sound echoed off the walls, and for a moment, she looked purely agonized.

<Starla> Successfully quelling another pout at the ignoring of her charms, she offered the woman a bright smile. “No, I’m not involved in anything like that. I doubt my sponsors would like that very much. Not that they really matter right now.” She laughed, and she tossed her hair again, sweeping her long bangs from her eyes. She could hear the chirping of the office equipment, and she knew that it would be grating on the woman’s nerves. She smirked as Johansson leaned forward to tap at the intercom, that pleasing voice requesting her background check. It all felt so strange, to have someone looking into her just for a job. But, there was little to find. Nothing of her most recent activities had been linked to her, she knew. It would be all over the news, if it had.

Instead, she kept herself under the legal radar, and so her check would come back clean as a whistle. She didn’t doubt it for a second. She just smiled wider at the woman’s explanation of her sister, and she shrugged her shoulder. “I can still like her. Besides, it sounds like she has you to look after her, opening a place like this for her. It’s kind of sweet of you.” She chuckled, and tipped her head as she thought about the answers to the woman’s questions before she began to shout. She hid her snicker behind a wall of thin fingers, slowly rising out of her chair with a powerful grace, every inch of her body trained, her movements perfect, efficient, elegant. She held up her hand for a second, and reached into the taut denim of her back pocket as she turned her back on the woman and leaned over the counter that spanned the back of her office.

She had the faceplate of the fax machine popped open in an instant. It was a quick turn of a screw, and a sharp yank, and she pulled the laser from the machine and set it aside. She reached her hands into the machine as she adjusted the parts, unjamming the gear in the scrollbar, and reached across the counter to grasp the laser mount, reattaching it to the machine’s mechanism and replacing the guard plate. The rest button was in an easy to find place, and with a quick restart, the beeping that had clearly driven the woman half mad was silent. She grinned, and scratched at her cheek as she turned to flash the woman a brilliant smile, a dark smudge of black toner across her face as she laughed. “Easy as that.”

Ivara: “Sponsors? What do you mean by sponsors?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a moment to ease the discomfort she was beginning to feel. It wasn’t brought on by the woman - but the beeping. It was loud, annoying, and reminded her too much of her wife’s shrill, painful voice. The sound of the chair scraping against the wood brought her hand down, and she opened her eyes as the blonde stood with a grace not many had. Everything she did with her body was controlled and on purpose, that much was obvious.

“Enough about my sister - and myself,” she snapped, the words escaping from her lips with a layer of frost. Before she had a chance to say anything more, Ayanna quietly stepped in, the papers gripping her hand and her eyes wide. “Mrs. Johansson?” Her voice was no more than a quiver, and she frowned as the mousy redhead’s eyes snapped towards Starla. “Yes, Ayanna? Is everything alright?” Pushing aside her annoyance at the beeping, she stepped around her desk as the girl handed over the papers with trembling hands. “Of course. You just… your eyes…”

Ah, damn.

“My eyes? You know what the light does to me. It’s just a migraine. I’m fine,” she smiled, her fingers quickly thumbing through the report. When she saw nothing of note, she tossed them on her desk and turned to face the blonde once more, her head tilted as the silence weighed on them. “Ayanna, get her a rag for her face. Thank you, Miss Wolfe. That is a relief. I was afraid a moment longer and I was going to end up killing someone.” With a laugh, she leaned her hip against the table as Ayanna hurried back in, her hand outstretched with a damp cloth.

<Starla> Twitching a brow at the woman’s outburst, she let her smile fade as she waited for the thin hostess to return with her rag. She took it without a word to the owner, but turned to the redhead and gave her a warm smile. “Thanks, I didn’t think about the ink leaking.” She scrubbed at her hands, as well, and folded the rag neatly, so that the clean sides laid in the woman’s palm as she returned the rag quickly. She turned to the owner, the woman she meant to impress, to dazzle with personality and skill, and who apparently would take every positive movement Starla made and turn it on its head, instead. She waited, unsure of how to proceed before she shrugged her shoulders.

“It isn’t any trouble. It is, after all, what I’m trying to do here, isn’t it?” She gave a less enthusiastic smile at that, and moved to slide into the chair. No more discussing the woman’s personal life. Apparently, connecting with her as an individual was off the table, as was about half of the reading she’d done preparing for an interview. Unsure of where to go next, she ran her palm along her forearm and thought, before she simply decided to backtrack to the woman’s previous questioning about her sponsors. “I’m a Team Captain for a PGL squad. It’s off season, and we had a… shortage on our roster. A lot of sponsors are pulling their support until the next qualification season.”

Ivara: The sparkle in the woman’s eyes dimmed, and with it, came a flash of guilt. It was unusual for her to feel any type of remorse, yet not seeing the shimmer of her smile or the light in her eyes seemed to pull the anger out of her like a vacuum. “I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with that beeping all day,” she began, but she knew her apology fell flat. It wasn’t something she was accustomed to, and she knew by the look in her eyes that she needed to offer more. As the blonde sat back down with the look of a kicked puppy, she sent Ayanna a pleading look, only to have the redhead hold up her hands and back away as quickly as she had come.

“Useless!”

Shaking her head, she brushed her bangs back and settled into her chair, the weight causing it to decline minimally. “I should be upfront with you, Miss Wolfe. I’m a lawyer - not a business person. I opened these businesses due to some recent changes in my life. I have no idea how to conduct an interview or how to tell if you’re even qualified. Now, if you needed legal advice, I’m your girl.” Blowing out a breath of annoyed air, she tapped her nails once more against the resumé. “You seem qualified. I’ve had three people try to fix that fax, and all looked at me like I asked them to solve all the problems in the universe. With that said, if you’re interested in a job, you’re hired.”

The words escaped her before she could think it through, and she shook her head once more. Parting her lips to say something further, another beep filled the air, and Ayanna’s voice followed, sounding frantic and terrified. “Ivar-- I mean, Mrs. Johansson. Your wife is he-- Oh ****.” The words died as a loud bang sounded from outside. “I apologize for this, as well. You should probably go,” she said, her tone unbothered by the commotion. Moving gracefully to her feet, she made it two steps before the door swung open and her wife’s slender form filled the entry, her green eyes glaring daggers at her as she tossed the intercom she’d been holding across the room.

“You *****. How dare you cut off my credit!”

<Starla> Her brilliance returned in an instant. The woman’s apology was, though a little flat and was something the other woman clearly didn’t manage very often, genuine, and that made Starla feel better all on its own. She nodded her head lightly and returned to her usual self, grinning widely at the offer of the job. She chuckled quietly and opened her mouth to accept the job when the cute little redhead’s voice suddenly burst through the room. She sounded frightened; like she was terrified of possibly losing her very life. It brought a rise from the blonde’s brows as she stared at the intercom device on Ivara’s desk.

“She doesn’t sound…” the woman’s second apology was more annoyed, and it was clearly not directed at her this time. The woman rose, stepping behind Starla as she made her way from the chair in another of those graceful rises. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as the strange woman burst through the door, about the same moment it struck her that Ayanna had said wife. “Oh…” she stood, stupidly, her mouth hanging open like she was some kind of brainless ditz as she stared at the woman in the doorway. She was married, of course, and of course it was to a woman, and of course she was hot. She was attractive, her perfect, bouncy curls of chocolate hair that likely took hours to coach into the perfect twist, her brilliant green eyes, alive with a fiery passion that made Starla’s throat feel tight in their rage, and lips glistening soft and glossy. A firm, full figure filled the doorway as the woman immediately erupted, throwing the intercom at Ivara’s head

<Starla> Starla ducked to avoid catching the device in the face as it exploded against the fax machine she’d only just fixed, the intercom’s back snapping free and parts raining into the floor, the fax machine following suite soon after. Star’s shoulders slumped at the futility of her work, and she turned to see the tall, slender goddess stand her ground against the angry brunette in the door. She bit into her lip, unable to exit as Ivara had suggested, and instead deeply contemplated clouting the woman with the broken fax machine to make her daring escape.

Ivara: Curling her fingers into her palms, Ivara narrowed her eyes on the woman as she continued to rave, her beautiful face contorted into something gruesome. She had once been beautiful - in a way, she still was - but her beauty had been tainted by personality. Her soft features were morphed into something cruel by the hatred in her eyes, and her lips were twisted into a scowl that took away from the angelic curve of her body. Everything about her screamed the promise of sex, but she knew the true beast that lurked beneath the skin. She was a viper waiting to sink her poisonous fangs into anything that crossed her path. God help their souls.

“That is enough, Ashley.”

It was as if the woman hadn’t heard her - or if she had, she didn’t care. Instead of taking a minute to catch her breath, she turned those glittering emerald daggers to the vase by the door, her fingers curling around the ceramic mouth to toss it, as well. The weight threw off her trajectory, and instead of hitting Ivara as she had wished, it crashed into the wall beside her. “**** you, *****. I ******* hate you! Why do you do this to me?” The words continued to spill like poison from her tongue, each one growing louder until she found herself fighting the urge to vomit. It was worse than the beeping, and this time, there was no easy fix. “Ashley! I said enough!”

With an edge of ice to her tone, she turned her gaze to Starla, the woman’s golden eyes wide as she drank in the chaos like it was a fine wine. “This is a place of work, not your personal playground. For once in your life, shut up and move out of the way so Miss Wolfe can leave.” Each word was spoken through clenched teeth, and she watched as her wife finally noticed the blonde. There was a blink of her eyes - and then all hell broke loose. The brunette lunged, her fingers curled into claws as she made to strike the blonde across the face, only to come to a sudden stop when her wrist was encased in an iron hold. “This is who is replacing me? This disgusting *****?”

It was if she hadn’t noticed the fact she was pinned against her form. Her legs still kicked, her hands still fought her as she stared at Starla with a hatred unrivaled. “Leave Miss Wolfe. Now. I’ll have Ayanna call you tomorrow. That is, if she chooses to come in.” Her voice was chilling, and as her wife squirmed and fought in her arms, she turned her vibrant gaze to the blonde and smiled.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.”



<Starla> Watching this little snippet of life was a lot like watching a volcano erupt in some kind of extreme slow motion. While she stood there, nearly slack-jawed at the woman’s beauty, she was lost in the raving. The drama that unfolded was beautiful, and it became incredibly apparent exactly why Misses Johansson had married the woman, and it wasn’t for her gleaming personality. Starla wouldn’t blame her, though. It took a moment to snap out of the haze, but the vase smashing against the wall managed it. She backed up a step, until she bumped into the office desk. Here, she was certain she was out of range of any flailing fists or claws the kitten might throw, though the objects she seemed fond of tossing were perfectly capable of finding their marks, if she had half the accuracy she seemed to think she had.

The blonde waited patiently, content with staying right where she was at to see this trainwreck through to the end. Instead, though, the statuesque amazon of her dreams drew attention to her, and her desire to escape, and that was the moment the entire scene change. The woman’s wailing of credit turned to a vicious hiss of pure loathing, and it was laser-focused on her. Had her heroine not been there, the woman would have sliced her face to ribbons with those talons. At least, that was the thought surely going through the little kitten’s mind, at any rate. Starla would have easily put the woman down, but had been relieved to simply lift her hand and take a look at her nails, instead. Pleased, she glanced her honeyed gaze up at the woman that was now not just her goddess, but her savior as well, and she smiled. She stepped closer to her, then, on her way past, and suppressed an urge to make the matter worse by kissing her, instead offering a wide grin and patting her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. The pleasure was all mine. I’ll be in tomorrow to check out your computer. Lots of work needs doing under your desk.” She turned to the rabid animal in her grasp and gave her a wink. “Pleasure meeting you.” With that, she turned, and with a click of her Gucci heels, she slipped from the office. She paused on her way out, to see Ayanna at her post, trembling like a leaf in the wind. She placed a hand on her shoulder as well, and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek as well. “Don’t worry. She seems to have everything under control in there. You’re doing a good job holding it together. I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” She gave her a grin, and with that, she was out the door.