Path of the Vampire forum

Emerson absolutely adored her job at The Flower Pot. She loved being able to arrange all the different types of bouquets, especially now that the holidays were coming up, and she enjoyed Elizabeth’s company in doing so. The pay was nice too, of course, but so was being able to live in routine. The brunette arrived and left the shop promptly every day around the same time unless an abundance of orders were to be attended to and she was required to stay an extra hour or three. However, as much as she loved her routines, she also loved her Saturdays, which were her only days off of work. They were, of course, used to their full potential.

Despite not being a morning person (although, was it even considered that, if she was waking up right when the sun dipped below the horizon instead of above?), Emerson was up and ready to tackle the day as early as she physically was able to. Her hair was done, as well as her makeup, and an outfit was thrown together all within a matter of minutes. Emerson wasn’t exactly the type of person to take super long in getting ready. practice made perfect, or something like that. Afterward, she’d head out to a coffee shop and get the usual. Since Halloween was done and over, 'the usual' had switched from a pumpkin coffee with lots of whipped cream - and sprinkles, if she had the regular barista - to a peppermint mocha coffee with lots of whipped in a cute red and green cup. From there, she’d take her drink to her silently claimed corner, stick an earbud in her right ear, and busy herself with a book or a coloring page. If there wasn’t anything specific to do in her day, she’d take as long as she wanted.

That particular Saturday, however, Emerson was scheduled to meet with Bjorn. She wasn’t sure exactly what time he’d be contacting her or how he’d be contacting her, for that matter, so she kept her phone close by with the ringtone on its highest volume and her mind clear, which meant her earbuds were tucked away in her bag for the day. Did listening to Christmas music interfere with telepathic communication? She decided it was better to be safe than sorry. And, as it turned out, she didn’t end up missing out on much. Seasonal music filtered through hidden speakers in the cafe, allowing Emerson to hum along to them as she worked. Today was a coloring day, so it seemed.

After burning her tongue three times and breaking two of colored pencils without a sharpener to fix them with, Emerson called it quits. Her half-finished page of a snowy scenery was shut between the pages of her book and slid into her practically empty backpack, just behind the gun she was always now seeming to keep on hand. And some extra ammo, because she’d learned from her mistakes. And a new first aid kit, too. It was much bigger than the one she had first pulled out to use some time ago, and thus, a bit more expensive. It did, however, come with a lot more supplies, ones that seemed useful enough for wounds made by monster claws or striking bullets. She kept the stickers, though.

Backpack on her shoulders and empty cup tossed in the nearest trashcan, Emerson set out to the nearby shops. She was planning on doing some grocery shopping for the week and seeing what kind of deals were popping up, because she was planning on getting her holiday shopping done early, mind you. How many people would she be shopping for? Emerson tallied off the people on her fingers as she walked, easily dodging around a stranger that came a bit too close for comfort. Not that many, so it seemed. And for half of them, she had no idea what to get. Frowning, the girl pulled her jacket tighter around her body before fumbling with the zipper. The change in season and temperature was apparent, but it was her own fault for not dressing appropriately. She figured since she was always cold that she’d be able to handle it, and she could, but only to an extent. Ducking inside one of the first shops she spotted in hopes of warming up and finding something or other that could pass as a halfway decent gift, Emerson subconsciously awaited for a message from Bjorn.

The shop was successful in warming Emerson up as she stepped through the door and into a sudden blast of heat. The satisfaction was short-lived, however, as her body adjusted to the temperature, and a small shiver rippled over her body as she glanced around. Anything and everything Christmas related was stocked in the frontmost displays, in every shade and hue of green and red and glitter. Did glitter even come in shades and hues? Technically speaking, it probably wasn’t possible. Her wandering thoughts aside, Emerson forced every part of her being to not grab for the sparkling and oh-so-cute decorations and mugs and candy canes, maneuvering herself around the shelves to reach the back of the store. A fleeting glance was cast over her shoulder that remained as she found a smaller section of the seasonal shipment that was strikingly familiar. A little mesh bag of golden coins hung on one of the racks, and Emerson couldn’t help herself as she walked over and reached for it. Her thumb ran over the label. Somehow, she already knew what it read.

“Gelt,” she mumbled, recognizing the little engraving of the menorah in the golden wrapper. She scanned over the rest of the display, but the items for the particular holiday were far and in between compared to that for Christmas. Catching sight of the small bin of dreidels, her mind was flooded with memories of spinning them on the hardwood floors of some place that felt so strikingly loving that it was rather overwhelming. There was laughing, hugging, gifts, but there were no faces, no names, nothing to connect her to someone, to friends, to a family. She shook her head and turned on her heel, setting out for the back of the store. The chocolate coins remained in her grasp.

Just as Emerson was going down the snack aisle and willing herself not to grab everything she saw, her phone let out a rather loud ding. Heads were whipped in her direction, consisting only of a few fellow shoppers and a teenager who was restocking a shelf of crackers (and looked at her for much longer than she liked), causing Emerson to duck away in embarrassment and pull the device out of the side of her boot. Not only a second later, another ding temporarily overpowered the light music that played throughout the small business, leaving the brunette to fumble with her volume button. It was to no prevail. She read over the two messages quickly, shuffling down an emptier aisle and stopping once she was safely hidden away by the high shelves. Freshly painted nails tapped against the screen as she typed.

Course!! I’m actually out right now but I can wrap things up and get over. Give me 20 minutes?

The message was sent and the device, now at a considerably lower volume, was held in her free hand as she looked up and down the aisle she was in. What groceries did she really need? Fruits and vegetables were definite, and she was pretty sure she was low on peanut butter. But she could always skip out on having it for the week. Although she could still eat food as she had in her mortal life, she didn’t necessarily have to. The blood packs and occasional munch in darkest of streets were meals enough. Speaking of munching, the same googly-eyed employee from before came sauntering down the aisle. Emerson could feel his hard gaze on her, and she wasn’t sure if it made her want to strangle him or herself. Twenty minutes were quickly about to turn to two.

“Can I help you with anything?”

The teenager, nametag reading Jake in possibly the messiest handwriting she’d ever seen, was easily a foot taller than Emerson, which made her feel impossibly small, and not in a good way. Their height difference shrank only in the slightest as this Jake leaned against the side of the nearest shelf, arms coming to cross over his chest casually. Emerson looked at him for a while before even thinking of saying anything. His cool smile and demeanor remained the whole time. For that reason, and possibly that reason only, Emerson admired his character. She could probably never, ever be calm and collected and cool.

“Um...” the girl started, pretending to focus on the wide expansion of notebooks and journals and packs of paper like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I don’t think so,” she finished, allowing herself to glance up at him and offer a small smile. It was supposed to be a smile of reassurance, a no-really-I’m-okay kind of smile, one that would have him continue down the aisle, turn a corner, and tend to some other kind of business. It wasn’t supposed to be a welcoming smile, one that was given like a sealed invitation for conversation, but this was, apparently, how the employee of the shop took it as.

“You sure?” he asked, lip piercing taken between his teeth, one eyebrow raised. All Emerson could do in response to that was shrug as casually as she could manage and shuffle further down the aisle. Hopefully it didn’t seem too rude. However, the male failed to catch on, following along behind her, only a stride away. His steps against the carpeted floors were soft and slow.

Emerson stopped when she landed herself in front of the adult coloring book display. She bent over to sort through them, not even thinking that the employee’s eyes would wander away from her face until she caught him doing so. He didn’t even blush, and Emerson was quick to situate herself on the floor on her knees, taking extra care in pulling her jacket around her. She knew that being an Allurist would attract attention, and she knew that being young and decent to the eye would attract attention, but she hadn’t expected the attention to be quite like this. Trying to distract herself, the vampire thumbed through the glossy covers. One was pulled out and sat it on the top of her thighs as she flicked through the pages. Lightly sketched models of various body types were drawn out, completely bare. It was meant for designing clothing, she realized, and Emerson’s brain immediately went to Maddison.

“Just holiday shopping,” she told him finally, making sure to grab her pouch of chocolates before getting up from the ground. Jake was the farthest thing from her mind in that moment as she continued down the aisle, searching for nothing but the best colored pencils. And even still, he followed.

“Haven’t seen you around very often,” he commented, hands moving to stuff into jean pockets. He rocked back and forth on his heels. “You just passing through or-”

It was in that moment that Emerson silently thanked the universe and pulled out her phone as it let out the familiar notification alert. The girl read over Bjorn’s message (and she still had to put him as a contact in her phone so she would see his name on her screen over a random string of numbers) and didn’t even spend a heartbeat thinking before her response was being typed out and sent.

Trouble in paradise - I think I might just book it to the Sanctuary right now. You can meet me whenever you’re done. No rush!!

“Sorry,” Emerson mumbled, thumbing the power button of her phone once she was sure her message had reached its destination. She kept the device in her free hand, offering an apologetic shrug as she motioned to it. As if the person messaging her was expecting her to be somewhere right there and then. As if she didn’t actually want to get as far, far away from the male’s hungry gaze as possible. “I gotta get going."

Jake was barely phased. “No worries, babe. I’ll ring you up,” he decided. If calling her babe wasn’t enough, as he passed by Emerson, Jake’s hand came to the small of her back - like the aisle wasn’t wide enough for him to just pass her by without some form of contact. If there were to be any contact at all, Emerson would’ve rather had her shoulder bumped. She would’ve rather been trampled and stamped in the throat again. A shudder coursed through her body, all the way down to her toes. The vampire pulled away from the human’s unwanted touch before he could remove his hand on his own terms, and she was a few steps behind as she reluctantly followed him to the register.

All three items were placed atop the counter and Emerson slipped her bag off her shoulders, letting it come to rest on the counter as well. She pushed around the backpack to find her wallet, careful to not conduct an accidental show-and-tell of her gun. The coloring book, pencils, and chocolates were scanned and the price was totaled slower than it probably should have taken. Emerson placed a few bills on the countertop rather than handing them over, and removed her purchases from the shopping bag they’d been packed away in. She thought the plastic things were more harmful than helpful, especially towards the environment she was always trying to save, and was perfectly fine with carrying a bit of extra weight - not that it was going to be much, if any at all.

“Here ya go,” Jake said, dropping the change in the girl’s hand. She was quick to pull away before his touch could linger, the money hastily shoved right into her bag among its other contents rather than being carefully tucked away into her wallet. “And hey, you never told me - just passing through? Sticking around?” Could this guy just not take a hint or was his ego just too big to think that he couldn’t get with every girl he saw? Emerson was so not interested for an abundant of reasons, but one at the top of her list would’ve had to be that he was kind of young. For her.

Emerson shrugged, eyes wandering. “Around. For now,” she added quickly, implying that she wouldn’t be someone to go steady with (more specifically that she wouldn't be someone to be with at all), if that was even the kind of thing he was looking for. She very much doubted that, but people were surprising her every day. Maybe she was wrong. Jake couldn’t even open his mouth to reply before Emerson was cutting him off again, this time with the shrill of her own uncontainable squeal. Jake was quick to whip around and see the source of her excitement, because it clearly wasn’t him. “I love the snow,” she explained, watching the flecks fall from the sky and collect into a carpet of white.

He seemed amused by her reaction. “Ice princess got a name?”

The brunette hesitated. It wasn’t like she was going to ever visit this shop again. Or, in the very least, not at these same hours, at this same shift. “Emerson,” she nodded. “Have a good day!” She was beyond ready to leave, already out the door when the male was calling out to her in reply. Wind whipped locks of dark chocolate into her view, but she couldn’t help but smile through the cold as she tucked the hair behind her ears. A snowflake was expertly caught on her tongue as her phone chimed once again.

One thing Emerson didn’t like about texting was that you could never efficiently distinguish someone’s tone through their messages. Although she’d quickly picked up on the fact that Bjorn was not much of a texter, his messages quick and to the point, she couldn’t help the drop of her grin at the glowing display of the single letter. A lowercase letter, at that. Then again, he had said he was out and about, too. Maybe he was doing something that didn’t allow for a ton of screen time. Regardless, she brushed off the matter as best she could and lugged the coordinates into some GPS or another, allowing it to guide her out of the cold and to the nearest transit. There was no way, despite badly wanting to, that she was going to walk in the snow.

Finding the nearest transit was easy, in the sense that Emerson only got lost once or twice. Or, not lost, exactly - but she did pass by the station, mentally smacked her head in realization, and had to retrace her steps to get back to it. After a bit of waiting and the uneasy collection of more and more people at the stop, the bus arrived. A few more people than Emerson had been expecting to be taking the bus, especially at that hour in the evening, were. The girl was sidestepped as the others climbed through the double doors and into the vehicle, leaving her to stand alone on the sidewalk in her doubt and hesitation. It was a bad idea to go on foot (because she could probably still get a cold, right?), and she was holding up the ride for everyone else. The bus driver, a middle-aged woman, looked down at Emerson with friendly eyes and an equally friendly smile, so the girl sucked in a deep breath and sat all the way in the back of one of the only empty seats. Her forehead was rested against the cool window glass, head knocking back and forth with each bump of the road. But at least it gave her something else to think about, rather than who was looking at her and what they were making of her appearance, her nervousness, the fact that she delayed the departure of the transportation and could probably have made someone late to work or to dinner with their family.

The bus pulled to a stop not soon enough. Although she was the first one to her feet, she was the last one off the bus. Emerson stood on the sidewalk as the fellow passengers went on their separate ways and the bus rolled down the street and disappeared behind a corner. Her phone was tinkered with, shifted between chilled fingertips as she tried to figure out whether (or not) to go left (or right). Eventually, the device caught up to her and showed the way.

Emerson arrived at the Sanctuary around the same time as Bjorn had, pulling open the doors and welcoming the heat that filtered through the building. However, she was a few seconds behind him, looking left and right and left again, unsure of where exactly she was supposed to be. Before she even got a chance to open up her messaging app on her phone to send the male a call for help, the sound of her name, although quiet, could be heard. The voice was loud enough to catch her attention, and it lead her what she could only assume to be the training room. Bjorn was there and waiting for her, bag on a mat. Emerson dropped her own to rest beside it.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a light smile. “Sorry if I kept y’waiting.” A hand was run through her hair, slightly damp from the snowflakes that collected between the dark tresses. “Stuff happened, and then I kinda got lost… But I’m here now!”