(Chapter 9) Who cares? (invitation only)
Posted: 18 Oct 2020, 14:17
The sound was unmistakable. Like a low harp string suddenly plucked followed by a soft sound of something rushing through the air. Next came the noise of something embedding itself into the layers of the waiting target across the room, only to be followed with a war cry of success from the would be archer.
“Very good!” Applauds was heard as the red haired woman approached her customer. The look on the man’s face was unmistakable. He was hooked and now all that was required was to reel him in. There was so much more she should inform her potential sale about this situation. First and foremost the idea that the intended target would stand still was a pipe dream, let alone said target could move in the blink of an eye or what the potential prey could do to the archer once it got its hands on them. Every disclaimer she had a customer sign before buying stated these facts and more and how the Pandora Project would not be held liable if any customer actually decided that hunting a would be vampire would be a pretty good thing to do after a few beers with a cross bow, so covering the company *** was imperative.
The wooden bolts carved from Ash, Hawthorn, and other woods that (supposedly) held natural blessings and powers against the undead were meant to be a novelty. Something to go along with the reproductions of Vampire Slayer’s ‘Kits’ they had mass produced for gag gifts. If anyone bought one of these and actually expected results only proved how in error their minds actually worked.
As the woman laid praise on the customer and began to discuss the details of purchasing the bolts, the owner of the establishment leaned against the far wall and watched. When the client looked in her direction, she gave a smile and thumbs up in reply before exiting the makeshift test range they had set up. Bolt sales were progressing nicely along with a resurgent interest in the slayer kits. “Always keep an eye on current events and make sure your stock will always cater to the current needs” was a rule that had yet to fail the girl.
Of course she was playing on the ignorance of her customers in the process. At least in the slayer kit came a discount coupon that gave the customer a break on purchasing the gun (and actual silver bullets) to complete it. The gun would actually be a practical item to have in these times. How effective the silver bullets would be was another matter for debate, but the bolts were an stroke of inspiration on her part. Let people feel like they were Van Helsing ready to defend their homes from the plague of vampires that were rampaging about or something like that.
And if, by the wildest chance, one of her fellow night feeders managed to find themselves with a cross bow bolt lodged in one of their *** cheeks, it might wake them up to how serious things have become now. People were afraid enough to quit being afraid and willing to take drastic actions to feel safe again. Within the space of just over 10-12 years things had gone from sleepy safe little town to potential apocalyptic war zone. People were afraid. They had a right to be afraid. Hell, she was one of those the living were afraid of and she was afraid.
So many kept taking about what should be done to solve this, but no one was coming up with any practical ideas. 'We all know there is a problem, so who is going to solve it' is basically what those meetings were coming to in decisions. As the gypsy saw it, there was no single magic answer to make it all be better. It would require multiple efforts on different fronts done in unison to begin and swing things backwards to a more sedate state of existence. It would require the cooperation of their kind and once the goal was reached, many of them would have to change their ways and attitudes to keep things in place. How many times had she warned others this could happen and how many times others laughed in her face in reply? She was tired of it all. Tired of trying and the laughter.
Cooperation? Attitude changes? Consistency? Vampires?
’And while I am at it, I’d like a Flaming Unicorn Zamboni for Christmas, Santa.’ she sighed. It may work for a time but anything long term was doomed to fall apart because of vampire nature. When the majority of your kind consider the living nothing more than livestock to feast upon, the idea of actually talking to the cows to get feedback is sheer madness, but the ‘cows’ were not as mindless as most thought. The girl wondered how outraged some of her fellow night feeders were at the idea that humanity was fighting back. The image of a cheeseburger jumping off the plate into a person’s face came to mind but it failed to amuse her. Zodiac wondered a lot about things like that. What if a nuclear strike came (thanks to the ‘cows’), would the authorities actually let the public know it was happening. She doubted it. Vampires could find a way to bolt from the town far faster than people could, so the purpose of the bomb would be null and void. Bottom line was the ‘animals’ could fight back in ways the night children could not. Could they be faulted for wishing to survive? And how would her own kind react if something bigger, more aggressive than vampires were, showed up and treated vamps like fast food?
What could she do?
There was really nothing else she could do for now unless some things changed, except what she was good at.
Turning a profit.
Let the ones who laughed at her warnings figure this out.
For a change.
[for_harmony][/for_harmony] [no_confidence][/no_confidence]
“Very good!” Applauds was heard as the red haired woman approached her customer. The look on the man’s face was unmistakable. He was hooked and now all that was required was to reel him in. There was so much more she should inform her potential sale about this situation. First and foremost the idea that the intended target would stand still was a pipe dream, let alone said target could move in the blink of an eye or what the potential prey could do to the archer once it got its hands on them. Every disclaimer she had a customer sign before buying stated these facts and more and how the Pandora Project would not be held liable if any customer actually decided that hunting a would be vampire would be a pretty good thing to do after a few beers with a cross bow, so covering the company *** was imperative.
The wooden bolts carved from Ash, Hawthorn, and other woods that (supposedly) held natural blessings and powers against the undead were meant to be a novelty. Something to go along with the reproductions of Vampire Slayer’s ‘Kits’ they had mass produced for gag gifts. If anyone bought one of these and actually expected results only proved how in error their minds actually worked.
As the woman laid praise on the customer and began to discuss the details of purchasing the bolts, the owner of the establishment leaned against the far wall and watched. When the client looked in her direction, she gave a smile and thumbs up in reply before exiting the makeshift test range they had set up. Bolt sales were progressing nicely along with a resurgent interest in the slayer kits. “Always keep an eye on current events and make sure your stock will always cater to the current needs” was a rule that had yet to fail the girl.
Of course she was playing on the ignorance of her customers in the process. At least in the slayer kit came a discount coupon that gave the customer a break on purchasing the gun (and actual silver bullets) to complete it. The gun would actually be a practical item to have in these times. How effective the silver bullets would be was another matter for debate, but the bolts were an stroke of inspiration on her part. Let people feel like they were Van Helsing ready to defend their homes from the plague of vampires that were rampaging about or something like that.
And if, by the wildest chance, one of her fellow night feeders managed to find themselves with a cross bow bolt lodged in one of their *** cheeks, it might wake them up to how serious things have become now. People were afraid enough to quit being afraid and willing to take drastic actions to feel safe again. Within the space of just over 10-12 years things had gone from sleepy safe little town to potential apocalyptic war zone. People were afraid. They had a right to be afraid. Hell, she was one of those the living were afraid of and she was afraid.
So many kept taking about what should be done to solve this, but no one was coming up with any practical ideas. 'We all know there is a problem, so who is going to solve it' is basically what those meetings were coming to in decisions. As the gypsy saw it, there was no single magic answer to make it all be better. It would require multiple efforts on different fronts done in unison to begin and swing things backwards to a more sedate state of existence. It would require the cooperation of their kind and once the goal was reached, many of them would have to change their ways and attitudes to keep things in place. How many times had she warned others this could happen and how many times others laughed in her face in reply? She was tired of it all. Tired of trying and the laughter.
Cooperation? Attitude changes? Consistency? Vampires?
’And while I am at it, I’d like a Flaming Unicorn Zamboni for Christmas, Santa.’ she sighed. It may work for a time but anything long term was doomed to fall apart because of vampire nature. When the majority of your kind consider the living nothing more than livestock to feast upon, the idea of actually talking to the cows to get feedback is sheer madness, but the ‘cows’ were not as mindless as most thought. The girl wondered how outraged some of her fellow night feeders were at the idea that humanity was fighting back. The image of a cheeseburger jumping off the plate into a person’s face came to mind but it failed to amuse her. Zodiac wondered a lot about things like that. What if a nuclear strike came (thanks to the ‘cows’), would the authorities actually let the public know it was happening. She doubted it. Vampires could find a way to bolt from the town far faster than people could, so the purpose of the bomb would be null and void. Bottom line was the ‘animals’ could fight back in ways the night children could not. Could they be faulted for wishing to survive? And how would her own kind react if something bigger, more aggressive than vampires were, showed up and treated vamps like fast food?
What could she do?
There was really nothing else she could do for now unless some things changed, except what she was good at.
Turning a profit.
Let the ones who laughed at her warnings figure this out.
For a change.
[for_harmony][/for_harmony] [no_confidence][/no_confidence]