Borrowing Without Asking {Lara}

[Indiana]

Harper Rock.

The name sounded innocent enough. Though innocence was often a lie, and this was one of those times that it was an almost laughable falsehood. The city was another world, a city where the worlds of the living and the dead collided, a veritable grey area in the black and white fabric of the universe. Its existence defied logic, the realities behind what was happening there were beyond human understanding. The rumors that had spread far across the continent had been true. Now, that knowledge was commonplace. The things that he had come to learn, the truths that he had come to uncover had been blown wide open before he had even found his way to the city.

His journey had been for nothing. His sacrifice in vain. He was broke, his own money drained. When he had last checked his checking account, he had three dollars left to his name, and the clothes on his back. A woman driving an old VW bus had drove off with the belongings that had made it all the way to Canada with him. She had been his ride into town, out of pity for the taking of his things that she had planned to do from the moment she had pulled off the side of the road to pick him up.

He could always find the change for a payphone, call his family and have them transfer money into his account, but he had skipped town in secret. He had left his doctoral thesis on hold for the chance at a real-world study of the sort of mythos-come-to-life that he had been writing on for months, an opportunity the likes of which had never presented itself in written history. His parents would never have understood. They still wouldn’t. His sister would laugh. The wretched trio would tell him to find his own way home, he’d found his way out there so well.

They were right, it would seem. He had been played the fool many times on his way North, and now, he was stranded, but he was stranded on his own power.

He would have to rethink his thesis, to resubmit a new idea, a new angle on the subject, but with the things going on here in the maw of darkness that thousands called home, he had subject matter aplenty. The problem was the simple matter of survival.

He needed money. Money for food, for clothes, for supplies and for a place to stay. Money was the lifeblood of the modern world, and without it, he wasn’t going to make it very far. He wasn’t very good at being homeless. He’d learned that fast, when a grime-covered man in a dirty coat and torn hat had tried to stab him with a broken fork over the last half of the sandwich he’d bought with his last fistful of dollars.

He would never really make it as a homeless man.

As a thief, though? He was doing okay at that.

His wallet hadn’t felt so full in a long time. Seven hundred dollars, six credit cards, a debit card, and one Google Wallet card. He was sure to get some fast mileage out of that one. One more mark, and he was sure he would be set to get himself established. One deep pocket, and he would be set on an apartment, at least. Maybe a couple more after that for food and a few amenities, but for the time being, the apartment was the important part. A nice quiet space to do his work in peace. He just needed to find that last unfortunate soul.

[Lara]

Originally born in Kazakhstan, in the then capital city of Almaty, Lara’s little family had relocated to the Canadian city of Guelph when she was just seven years old. Years later, when she’d settled in with her first boyfriend, Steven Reyes, she’d relocated to the city of Harper Rock. She had additions to her tale, but she didn’t want the focus on her siblings or her aunt or even her father; Lara hadn’t heard from them in years, and she didn’t really care if she ever heard from them again. In her mind, they’d done nothing but hold her back, from the very second she was born. Her mother left. Her father left. She only had Aunt Rada and her four foolish siblings for company. She’d blamed the city of Guelph for all of her difficulties, and then she’d learned to blame the city of Harper Rock. She’d been dealt a bad hand, and she had no way of drawing any other cards from the deck, or so it seemed. Lara wanted everything for herself, even though no one else shared her sentiments.

Up until the moment she met Cedric, she’d felt absolutely alone in the world. No, not up until the moment she’d met him, but up until the moment he’d given her the gift of vampirism. He’d given her so much more than anyone had ever given her before. She knew, right then, that she’d never be able to return the favor, but she’d always be around, as if to try. If she had one weak point, she knew it was Cedric, simply because she could never repay his moment of kindness, to match the gift he’d bestowed upon her. Lara wasn’t an affectionate woman -- she’d never been an affectionate person, ever -- but she had a soft spot for the man. And that was it. A soft spot. Just like a fruit that bordered on an over-ripened state. Cedric had given her a new family though, one she wasn’t as quick to welcome, one she didn’t care about at all. Maybe it would change. Maybe it would never change. Lara had never been one to form deep and meaningful bonds, so her lack of enthusiasm came as no surprise.

And then there was Castalia. Lara knew very little about the woman, not that it mattered. Castalia had given Lara a job when Lara hadn’t worked a day in her life, so she supposed Castalia wasn’t too bad. Neither woman seemed in a rush to get to know one another, which Lara actually preferred. The last thing Lara needed was for someone to try and force some feelings down her throat. One thing that did bother Lara was the fact that she had to notice flirtatious advances between Castalia and Cedric. Lara didn’t do flirtatious advances. The only time she put up with them was when they were necessary to swindle men out of money. Lara didn’t do romance. To behold that sort of behavior just made her want to crush things. Didn’t people know romance was irrational? Relationships rarely succeeded, so they had no reason to explore a guaranteed failure. Surely they weren’t so stupid. Or maybe they were.

Lara rarely reached out, and, sometimes, she preferred it that way. She worked. She went home. She went shopping. Lara did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Being a vampire gave her a great sense of freedom. Not to mention, she looked fabulous. That didn’t hurt things. Usually, her great sense of freedom took her to the Gullsborough Mall. True to her character, she found herself there, allowing retail therapy to ease her muscles and relax her mind. She only had two bags, so far, but she’d gone home with as much as seven before. Her Alexander McQueen embroidered clutch in her left hand and her bags in the right, Lara thanked the woman in the shoe store and made her way back into the main portion of the mall, her Jimmy Choo pumps clicking whenever her heel connected with the tiled floor. She wanted to look into more dresses, perhaps, or maybe she meant to look into a fitted pantsuit. Lara went toward a shop window displaying a light-pink Dolce and Gabbana dress paired with a beautiful white blazer and, from the angle and point of the heels, light-pink Louboutins.

“Would you like to try it on?” A clerk from the store stood in the doorway, obviously trying to attract more customers. “It’s Dolce and Gabbana,” the woman said, her voice raised to show off her own attempts at temptation.

“I see that,” Lara said, excitement in her eyes. “I’d love to try it on, and the blazer.”

“Perfect! It’s Chanel,” the clerk exclaimed, opening the glass doors wide to allow Lara and her bags entry to the pristine shop. One part of the shop held men’s clothing, one part of the shop held children’s clothing, and the other part, the largest part, held women’s clothing. Lara followed the clerk through the center aisle and into the women’s department. She placed her bags down on one of the little chairs stationed in the section, but she kept a loose hold on her clutch.

“I’ll need the blazer in a small and a medium, to compare sizes. I'll need two of them, and I should see which will fit better.” Lara thought of her boss then. Would Castalia really appreciate Chanel. Lara didn’t know.

"I'm sure you'll be a small, ma'am," the clerk said with a flutter of her lashes.

"My dear, flattery will get you everywhere."

[Indiana]

Quick in and out.

It had to be quick. He had to be fast. If he could swipe what he needed and be away fast enough, security wouldn’t even know he’d been there, before he was already gone. His eyes scanned the stores, taking in the window displays, checking out what was for sale inside, scoping out the value, gauging the wealth of each store’s patrons. Who would miss a few hundred dollars the least? Where would he be most likely to get away with the theft?

His eyes flicked over a clothing store, a pretty typical target. Easy enough, as busy as they usually were, and brimming with women more into what they were going to be spending their money on than the money itself. So many of them were so careless with their cash that he could practically swipe it from them while maintaining eye contact with just a bit of a smile.

He was, however, in a hurry. He was almost certain that mall security was onto him, and he was going to need to make a mad dash for the street if he was going to make it out scot free. He could be subtle, and try to sneak a look into someone’s bag, slipping a few bills free before he walked out, or, he could swipe the whole bag, wallet and all, and bail. The wallet might even fetch him a little extra, and the credit cards might come in handy, if he could utilize them quickly enough. He sighed, scratching at his throat as he slipped inside the extravagant store, the environment very sterile, very clean. The air smelled of cotton and that light mist of perfume that stores tried to use to mask the scent of dust that such a huge collection of clothing was prone to collecting.

It was then that he saw her, what he would have described as the prime mark.

She was beautiful, like one might find a work of art beautiful. Classic, and generally accepted as what society would call attractive. That wasn’t his cup of tea, but he could appreciate what she would be to others, what she might think of herself, draping her frame in the absurdly expensive swathes of fabric that filled the store.

She absolutely had money to burn.

He nodded to himself, and set his eyes anywhere but on his mark. He didn’t want to gather anyone’s attention for taking too long a look at a beautiful young woman alone in a clothing store as he stalked the aisles. He was a predator of sorts, but hardly the type that most people would assume.

He made a grunting sound, clearing his throat as he rolled his shoulder, ready to drop low and make a dash for the woman’s belongings. He flexed his fingers, ready for the grab. It should be easy. He dipped down, head sliding beneath the line of sight of those in the adjacent aisles of clothing as he rushed forward and snatched the bags that had been tossed into the chair. His fingers slipped through the handles and yanked the bags of clothing free from their perch, his empty hand reaching out to snatch at the woman’s clutch that she held loosely in her grasp. If he failed to grab the purse, he’d at least have the clothes. Those should fetch a decent amount, as compensation for the trouble she put him through.