All hell had broken out on the old sod. Nothing big enough the press was actually picking up on it, not even the BBC. At least they didn’t understand what was going on, some of the action had been hard to keep quiet. She’d lost two close colleagues… friends even… and in short, it had not been a good few months. Although it had gotten the adrenalin moving and sharpened up some lesser used skills.
She’d just gotten back in the states but rather than going home and unpacking Val chose to go out and enjoy herself a little. Maybe she could forget the last firefight… the one where Andrew had fallen right beside her. It was funny how attached one could get to humans. Of course she wasn’t –that- old so it wasn’t as surprising if you thought about it.
The unwind time seemed to be working the music was a little too loud and none too good but it was OK to dance too. And a little dancing, a little distraction and a little light snack had put her in a much better mood. It was good to be home.
Time for a drink. She slid up to the bar.
“Double scotch, neat, Glenmorangie if you have it.”
She practically purred. Having just returned from Ireland her accent was thick, she hadn’t quite taken the edge off it yet. That would take a day or two.
Shockingly enough this place had the Glenmorangie and in gratitude, Val slipped the bar tender a big tip and perched on a stool to sip her drink.
Rather than watching the dance floor, she sized up the flyboy next to her, although she didn’t immediately reach any conclusions. Instead, she tossed him a near blinding smile, although she was careful to keep her teeth to herself.
“You need to raise your hat laddie. You’ll not catch any fish unless the ladies can see your eyes.”
Bar-hopping (open)
Steve Rowland walked into the bar, eyeing up the crowd. He decided that this place, the same one he and Trin had visited on that fateful night, was a good "fishing hole." He walked to the bar, and ordered a triple shot of Jack Daniels, and told the bartender to leave the bottle. He then looked around, trying to find a good-looking girl who might be interested in a one-night stand. He was wearing jeans, a dark-blue t-shirt, a tan Carhart jacket, and his combat boots. He had pulled his dogtags out of his shirt and had them in plain view, and he had traded in the Desert Eagle for a Beretta M92, with wood inlay on the butt and a semi-automatic mechinism. His USAF cap was pulled down low over his eyes, and he sat with his back to the bar, making himself noticable, but not too noticeable.
A band was playing up on the stage, and the dace floor was mildly crowded. The music was crappy, but Steve didn't care. He was here to drink, drink, and maybe forget his troubles. However, after a few refills, Steve found his foot tapping to the beat of the music. Maybe this night wouldn't be as depressing as he thought.
Valentine
15 years ago
Shay
15 years ago
Utterly exhausted, Shay knew she had no business being out of her normal hunting grounds, as that combination could easily prove fatal. She did have a tendency for being a tad less aware and focused after a full day of working out, and training, so her normal routine was to grab a quick bite on the run home, from someone local.
But tonight there was a different type of anxiety that had been plaguing her. Alec was still recovering, though doing much better, so that wasn't it...and she hadn't yet thought of any other reasons she might be feeling fidgity, but she was, none the less.
As she continued to walk, not paying much attention to her surroundings with her mind deep in thought, she realized her hunger was growing, and she really did need to take care of that.
It surprised her to find she was on the strip downtown, when she finally got her bearings. She had been there once with Dayle, and once with...Ginnie...if she remembered right, but normally kept away from such busy places. Finding she was growing more tense with each passing minute, she popped into the next bar she came upon, and quickly surveyed the crowd.
"Ugh...surely you could have done better than this, Shay." She muttered very softly under her breath, as she stood just inside the doorway.
The place wasn't terribly crowded, which made Shay feel instantly more at ease, yet the lack of menu items wasn't always a good thing.
Thinking a drink might be the best option for the moment, Shay stepped up to the bar, unaware of the glances her presence generated. The fact that she was wearing skin tight, buttery soft camel colored leather pants, and an off the shoulder form fitting lace camisole just a couple shades lighter than her pants, bra-less, was undoubtedly why she garnered the looks. She rarely dressed in such an obvious manner, except tonight something told her it might be fun. It was a given it would make the whole feeding process that much more simple.
"I don't suppose there's a snowballs chance in hell you might have some Sam Adams Utopias, is there?"
It was an absurd question, considering the price on a small bottle of the strong beer was over $100, but it never hurt to ask.
The blank stare the bartender gave Shay was all she needed.
"Nevermind, give me whatever you do have of Sam Adams please."
The case of Utopias she'd ordered off the internet sat in a dark closet back at her place, only two bottles gone. It was something she really loved, but horded for special occasions. Since Ginnie had been killed, Shay hadn't considered anything special enough, and had decided to wait for Alec's release from the hospital to use in their celebration. That had been until she came to grips with the fact that it would probably be long after his release before Alec would entertain any notion of celebrating anything.
It was that last thought that had prompted Shay to think 'to hell with it', and choose not to wait for that time. She was alive, Alec was alive, they needed to find other things now to fulfill themselves, and make their lives happy again.
Movement to her left brought Shay to turn around and lean her side into the bar. There was a man, facing away from the bar to her immediate side, and just to his side was a pretty redheaded woman. The man looked to be hiding behind his hat, probably checking out the lovely women on the dance floor, trying not to appear to lecherous. The woman with the Irish accent had just spoken to the man, but Shay hadn't caught the words, having been concentrating to hard on whether or not either of the two would make good meals.
But tonight there was a different type of anxiety that had been plaguing her. Alec was still recovering, though doing much better, so that wasn't it...and she hadn't yet thought of any other reasons she might be feeling fidgity, but she was, none the less.
As she continued to walk, not paying much attention to her surroundings with her mind deep in thought, she realized her hunger was growing, and she really did need to take care of that.
It surprised her to find she was on the strip downtown, when she finally got her bearings. She had been there once with Dayle, and once with...Ginnie...if she remembered right, but normally kept away from such busy places. Finding she was growing more tense with each passing minute, she popped into the next bar she came upon, and quickly surveyed the crowd.
"Ugh...surely you could have done better than this, Shay." She muttered very softly under her breath, as she stood just inside the doorway.
The place wasn't terribly crowded, which made Shay feel instantly more at ease, yet the lack of menu items wasn't always a good thing.
Thinking a drink might be the best option for the moment, Shay stepped up to the bar, unaware of the glances her presence generated. The fact that she was wearing skin tight, buttery soft camel colored leather pants, and an off the shoulder form fitting lace camisole just a couple shades lighter than her pants, bra-less, was undoubtedly why she garnered the looks. She rarely dressed in such an obvious manner, except tonight something told her it might be fun. It was a given it would make the whole feeding process that much more simple.
"I don't suppose there's a snowballs chance in hell you might have some Sam Adams Utopias, is there?"
It was an absurd question, considering the price on a small bottle of the strong beer was over $100, but it never hurt to ask.
The blank stare the bartender gave Shay was all she needed.
"Nevermind, give me whatever you do have of Sam Adams please."
The case of Utopias she'd ordered off the internet sat in a dark closet back at her place, only two bottles gone. It was something she really loved, but horded for special occasions. Since Ginnie had been killed, Shay hadn't considered anything special enough, and had decided to wait for Alec's release from the hospital to use in their celebration. That had been until she came to grips with the fact that it would probably be long after his release before Alec would entertain any notion of celebrating anything.
It was that last thought that had prompted Shay to think 'to hell with it', and choose not to wait for that time. She was alive, Alec was alive, they needed to find other things now to fulfill themselves, and make their lives happy again.
Movement to her left brought Shay to turn around and lean her side into the bar. There was a man, facing away from the bar to her immediate side, and just to his side was a pretty redheaded woman. The man looked to be hiding behind his hat, probably checking out the lovely women on the dance floor, trying not to appear to lecherous. The woman with the Irish accent had just spoken to the man, but Shay hadn't caught the words, having been concentrating to hard on whether or not either of the two would make good meals.
Steven
15 years ago
Steve turned his head as the redhead spoke, and lifted his cap a little. "Well, ma'am," he said, trying to keep from laughing at her strong accent. "I can't say that the fish I'm shooting for are in this joint." He grinned back at her, then took another swig of his whiskey. "Can I buy you a drink?" Steve had to admit, that old line sounded seriously corny, even to a buzz-drunk throttle jock like himself. Another figure caught his eye, and his hand unconsciously went to his sidearm. The figure, a good-looking brunette/blonde, was eyeing him up like a hound would a deer. He shook off his fears and turned back to the redhead. "'Name's Rowland. What's yours?" he asked her, unstrapping the pistol silently. After what he had been through, there was no way in hell he was going to be caught unprepared.
Shay
15 years ago
When the man next to her appeared to tense up, Shay couldn't hold back a small smirk. His hand action to his gun didn't go unnoticed either, but she remained calm, and unafraid. A bullet would certainly hurt, but it would most certainly not stop her.
She turned back to the bar when her beer arrived, and poured it perfectly into the tall glass that accompanied it. A long swallow of the icy cold liquid felt almost as good going down her throat as the warm, thick, metallic taste that blood did. Her smirk was replaced with a smile as she turned once again, but this time slipped up onto the bar stool next to her, and swiveled around to face the way the man...Rowland...was facing.
She turned back to the bar when her beer arrived, and poured it perfectly into the tall glass that accompanied it. A long swallow of the icy cold liquid felt almost as good going down her throat as the warm, thick, metallic taste that blood did. Her smirk was replaced with a smile as she turned once again, but this time slipped up onto the bar stool next to her, and swiveled around to face the way the man...Rowland...was facing.
Valentine
15 years ago
Val laughed, a charming tinkling unconsciously seductive sound. Both being called ‘ma’am’ and being offered a drink amused her, probably more than it should have.
“Ye shouldn’t shoot the fish. Just bait the hook and let them come to you. But I will take you up on that drink.”
Following his gaze she caught sight of the other woman. Interesting, maybe he had baited the hook and she was in the way. Well if the fish was hungry enough she’d bite with or with out Val chatting with him.
“Valentine. A pleasure to meet you.”
She understood the few sublet moves. Odd that he’d feel edgy. She generally had a good feel for when things were about to go south and she wasn’t getting that vibe now. Perhaps something earlier had set him off. Of course she could be a off her game and things could be nastier than she though, but she’d deal with that if it happened.
“So if you’re not fishing here, you’re just warming up? You have another joint in mind? Not that I’d blame you if you did with a few exceptions this is’na the best crowd I’ve seen.”
“Ye shouldn’t shoot the fish. Just bait the hook and let them come to you. But I will take you up on that drink.”
Following his gaze she caught sight of the other woman. Interesting, maybe he had baited the hook and she was in the way. Well if the fish was hungry enough she’d bite with or with out Val chatting with him.
“Valentine. A pleasure to meet you.”
She understood the few sublet moves. Odd that he’d feel edgy. She generally had a good feel for when things were about to go south and she wasn’t getting that vibe now. Perhaps something earlier had set him off. Of course she could be a off her game and things could be nastier than she though, but she’d deal with that if it happened.
“So if you’re not fishing here, you’re just warming up? You have another joint in mind? Not that I’d blame you if you did with a few exceptions this is’na the best crowd I’ve seen.”
Steven
15 years ago
Valentine, eh? An odd name, but who was he to make judgments. He grinned at her comment. "Yeah, I'll say. With the exception of you and maybe that one over there," he said pointing at the woman who had spooked him earlier. "This blasted place doesn't have enough good looks to fill a bottle cap."
Before the conversation could go any further, Steve felt his phone vibrate. As he pulled it out of his pocket, something else fell out too: the engraved medallion Trin had given him. He swore, diving under the bar to get it. The way it had fallen, there was no way in hell that Valentine could have missed it. Steve hoped that the weird crest thingy on it held no meaning to her. He turned back to her, checking his phone. The call had been from work, but it had gone to voicemail. He put the incident out of his mind, but he cocked his weapon with his thumb all the same. "Damn NPD,"he said, shaking his head. "Always trying to get me to go on patrol on the weekends. I seem to be their patrol bitch." He took another drink of his whiskey. "So, what do you do for a living?" He eyed her up. She had the looks of a dancer, but there was something about her that shouted "soldier" to the hills. He took a good look at her eyes. Definitely military, he thought. He could always tell a fellow soldier form the masses of civilians and wanna-bes. She had the cool, calm look of a battle-hardened warrior, and Steve knew that she was a fighter. Just the way she seemed to calculate her every move was a dead give-away. If she was military, then this could be a very un-fruitful and possibly embarrassing night. Steve decided to play things as cool as he could. After all, she might just be a little more interested in him if she was military. At least, if she was military like his sister was military. He took another swig of his drink. This was going to be very interesting.
Before the conversation could go any further, Steve felt his phone vibrate. As he pulled it out of his pocket, something else fell out too: the engraved medallion Trin had given him. He swore, diving under the bar to get it. The way it had fallen, there was no way in hell that Valentine could have missed it. Steve hoped that the weird crest thingy on it held no meaning to her. He turned back to her, checking his phone. The call had been from work, but it had gone to voicemail. He put the incident out of his mind, but he cocked his weapon with his thumb all the same. "Damn NPD,"he said, shaking his head. "Always trying to get me to go on patrol on the weekends. I seem to be their patrol bitch." He took another drink of his whiskey. "So, what do you do for a living?" He eyed her up. She had the looks of a dancer, but there was something about her that shouted "soldier" to the hills. He took a good look at her eyes. Definitely military, he thought. He could always tell a fellow soldier form the masses of civilians and wanna-bes. She had the cool, calm look of a battle-hardened warrior, and Steve knew that she was a fighter. Just the way she seemed to calculate her every move was a dead give-away. If she was military, then this could be a very un-fruitful and possibly embarrassing night. Steve decided to play things as cool as he could. After all, she might just be a little more interested in him if she was military. At least, if she was military like his sister was military. He took another swig of his drink. This was going to be very interesting.
Valentine
15 years ago
Val tossed back the rest of her drink and her lips quirked in something of a smile.
“Well you have fine taste and the flattery does count for something.”
She said with good humor, her eyes dancing.
Ah, cell phones. She had one and it had its uses but it wasn’t her favorite thing in the world. Too much like being kept on a leash, and Val –hated- feeling like that.
There was a bit of a production as he retrieved something that fell out of his pocket. She got a good look at it and it looked familiar, but in the course of nearly a hundred years, lots of things had started to look familiar. She’d gotten good at filing them away until she could match them up with what they were or might be at some later date.
He was a bull was he? Interesting. She’d have to keep her nose clean around this one… unless he could be bought that was.
“You don’t strike me as any one’s bitch.”
He didn’t either. Too alert, too assessing. Not hostile, not yet, but not some one you should push unless you were willing to deal with an afterwards.
Giving him a second, she had to comment.
“Tis an interesting bauble. Sentimental value?”
She’d let it go with that, unless offered she wouldn’t even ask to see it closer. It would just help her place it later.
What –did- she do for a living? Well that was a fine question wasn’t it? There was no socially acceptable way of saying she’d spent the last few months running around Ireland and England shooting things and blowing things up. Especially if he was a bull she couldn’t say a word, you never knew what had leaked where and if they were looking on this side of the pond.
“I’ve never been terribly good at these job things. I own a car dealership, at least I did I’m assuming they haven’t run it bust while I was away. “
They probably hadn’t, but one never knew. And of course, if they had she could play at something else, maybe it was time for a change. She’d have to think about that.
“Well you have fine taste and the flattery does count for something.”
She said with good humor, her eyes dancing.
Ah, cell phones. She had one and it had its uses but it wasn’t her favorite thing in the world. Too much like being kept on a leash, and Val –hated- feeling like that.
There was a bit of a production as he retrieved something that fell out of his pocket. She got a good look at it and it looked familiar, but in the course of nearly a hundred years, lots of things had started to look familiar. She’d gotten good at filing them away until she could match them up with what they were or might be at some later date.
He was a bull was he? Interesting. She’d have to keep her nose clean around this one… unless he could be bought that was.
“You don’t strike me as any one’s bitch.”
He didn’t either. Too alert, too assessing. Not hostile, not yet, but not some one you should push unless you were willing to deal with an afterwards.
Giving him a second, she had to comment.
“Tis an interesting bauble. Sentimental value?”
She’d let it go with that, unless offered she wouldn’t even ask to see it closer. It would just help her place it later.
What –did- she do for a living? Well that was a fine question wasn’t it? There was no socially acceptable way of saying she’d spent the last few months running around Ireland and England shooting things and blowing things up. Especially if he was a bull she couldn’t say a word, you never knew what had leaked where and if they were looking on this side of the pond.
“I’ve never been terribly good at these job things. I own a car dealership, at least I did I’m assuming they haven’t run it bust while I was away. “
They probably hadn’t, but one never knew. And of course, if they had she could play at something else, maybe it was time for a change. She’d have to think about that.
Steven
15 years ago
Something wasn't right here. That much Steve knew. He wasn't sure what it was that had spooked him so, but he had to leave, and soon, ifpossible.He seemed to have one hostile, possibly two, maybe even none. The red-head, Valentine, was a wild card and might not be a problem, but the brunette.... that girl gave him a serious case of the heeby-jeebies. And Valentine's comment on the medallion was not exactly comforting. He glanced around, looking for an escape route. A bathroom caught his eye. He thought about the outside of the building. If he was correct, there was a window just big enough for him to squeeze through in there. He looked some more. A bucket full of small objects sat on the end of the bar. Firecrackers. The kind DJs used to fill dance floors with fog. Not exactly smoke grenades, but they'd do. He signaled the bartender. "Hey, man. Can you get my friend here a re-fill?" He tossed down some cash, then turned to Valentine. "I'll be right back. Got to go take care of a few things."
Steve walked off, snagging three of the firecrackers and sitcking them under his jacket as he went. He entered the bathroom, then drew his weapon. Sure enough, there the window was. He jumped up, catching the sill with his fingers. The window itself was hinged so it could be opened, but the hinges had frozen, and wouldn't budge. He hung one-handed, pounding on the window with his free hand, all the while keeping an eye on the door...
Steve walked off, snagging three of the firecrackers and sitcking them under his jacket as he went. He entered the bathroom, then drew his weapon. Sure enough, there the window was. He jumped up, catching the sill with his fingers. The window itself was hinged so it could be opened, but the hinges had frozen, and wouldn't budge. He hung one-handed, pounding on the window with his free hand, all the while keeping an eye on the door...
Shay
15 years ago
It tickled Shay to find she had this strange power over people. The fact that she assumed she was responsible for his unease, never crossed her mind as being wrong. Being a bit on the self-centered side, Shay assumed a lot of things revolved around her, whether that was accurate or not.
That the guy, Rowland, was nervous seemed to becoming more and more apparent with each passing second. If it had just been the two of them there now, she would have quickly grabbed him around the neck, fed, and left the less than exciting bar for better things.
But there was this Valentine woman, and of course the bartender, and others, so that wasn't a viable plan for this evening. As the guy made his departure known, Shay watched his back for a few seconds, then turned to Valentine and shrugged. She was certain she could find much easier pickings, even if it took her a bit longer. Why it never occurred to her to move on to the woman, was something Shay would think about later. But her routine was to go after men for food first, and the 'whys' for that just didn't seem important now.
Draining her glass, Shay left the bar pretty much as she had entered...quietly, and without much notice. Other than the random look or two her body and attire had elicited. Maybe she'd try the House of Pain she'd heard Ginnie mention once or twice. She guessed it wouldn't hurt to be aware of all that Nachton had to offer, even if it turned out not to be her cuppa.
(Shay out)
That the guy, Rowland, was nervous seemed to becoming more and more apparent with each passing second. If it had just been the two of them there now, she would have quickly grabbed him around the neck, fed, and left the less than exciting bar for better things.
But there was this Valentine woman, and of course the bartender, and others, so that wasn't a viable plan for this evening. As the guy made his departure known, Shay watched his back for a few seconds, then turned to Valentine and shrugged. She was certain she could find much easier pickings, even if it took her a bit longer. Why it never occurred to her to move on to the woman, was something Shay would think about later. But her routine was to go after men for food first, and the 'whys' for that just didn't seem important now.
Draining her glass, Shay left the bar pretty much as she had entered...quietly, and without much notice. Other than the random look or two her body and attire had elicited. Maybe she'd try the House of Pain she'd heard Ginnie mention once or twice. She guessed it wouldn't hurt to be aware of all that Nachton had to offer, even if it turned out not to be her cuppa.
(Shay out)
Valentine
15 years ago
She smiled sweetly, almost demurely as he left thanking him for the drink as he went.
Now she hadn’t been born yesterday, not by a long shot. And Val hadn’t seen a man run away from her that fast since the cute little ones’ had gotten a look at Giovanni, mind you that had always been fun.
Forcing herself to wait and not jump to conclusions Val toyed with her drink waiting what she assumed was a reasonable amount of time and seeing that her drinking buddy hadn’t come back, she laughed.
“The rat ran out on me.”
She said with good humor to the bar tended as she slid the drink back to him, unfinished, and tossed the man a blinding smile, complete with fangs. She enjoyed the double take from the bar tendered but didn’t stick around long enough let him say anything.
The scent of the hunt was tickling her nose and Val was like a hound on point, she wanted to run. It had been a long time since she’d been able to hunt for fun. Now, that she had the opportunity she very much want to do this.
Tracing her tongue over one of her sharp prominent canines she slid out of the bar, slowly nonchalantly. Hidden behind that nonchalance she was carefully scanning the street looking for any sign of her prey; none. Noting the alley, she wondered if he went down it or was hiding in it.
Well the easiest way to find out was to look, but she didn’t want him to bolt just yet. Rather than going down the alley, she walked across the street to her little red Porsche Boxster unlocked it and sat down. To all the world she looked like she was checking her make up, but she was retrieving a 9 millimeter glock pistol. Oh, she didn’t need it, not at all. But he was a cop; he’d understand a gun much better than fangs.
No movement in the alley yet. Well she’d wait a few; she had an excellent view of the main entrance, what looked like a kitchen entrance and Rowland’s only two exits. She could wait a long time dawn was –hours- away.
Now she hadn’t been born yesterday, not by a long shot. And Val hadn’t seen a man run away from her that fast since the cute little ones’ had gotten a look at Giovanni, mind you that had always been fun.
Forcing herself to wait and not jump to conclusions Val toyed with her drink waiting what she assumed was a reasonable amount of time and seeing that her drinking buddy hadn’t come back, she laughed.
“The rat ran out on me.”
She said with good humor to the bar tended as she slid the drink back to him, unfinished, and tossed the man a blinding smile, complete with fangs. She enjoyed the double take from the bar tendered but didn’t stick around long enough let him say anything.
The scent of the hunt was tickling her nose and Val was like a hound on point, she wanted to run. It had been a long time since she’d been able to hunt for fun. Now, that she had the opportunity she very much want to do this.
Tracing her tongue over one of her sharp prominent canines she slid out of the bar, slowly nonchalantly. Hidden behind that nonchalance she was carefully scanning the street looking for any sign of her prey; none. Noting the alley, she wondered if he went down it or was hiding in it.
Well the easiest way to find out was to look, but she didn’t want him to bolt just yet. Rather than going down the alley, she walked across the street to her little red Porsche Boxster unlocked it and sat down. To all the world she looked like she was checking her make up, but she was retrieving a 9 millimeter glock pistol. Oh, she didn’t need it, not at all. But he was a cop; he’d understand a gun much better than fangs.
No movement in the alley yet. Well she’d wait a few; she had an excellent view of the main entrance, what looked like a kitchen entrance and Rowland’s only two exits. She could wait a long time dawn was –hours- away.
Steven
15 years ago
Finally, the window popped open, and the armed and seriously spooked man slid out. Hitting the ground, Steve pondered his next course of action. His car was not that far out, but there was something troubling Steve. He had been careless back there, and Valentine probably knew he was trying to run. His black '68 Camero with red racing stripes sat just at the corner of the bar, and, if he was careful, he might be able to get there without notice. He crouched low, gun at the ready, and scooted to the car. He popped the door lock, and holstered his weapon. He then reached in and pulled out his recently repaired shotgun, cocking the tactical weapon and looking around. God help anyone who fucked with him now. He caught movement: A red car was sitting at the mouth of the alleyway, and someone had just gotten in. He ducked behind the Camero, shotgun clenched in a deathgrip. He pulled a pair of binos from their pocket in the driver's door, then checked out the other car.
"Oh, shit!"
Valentine was sitting in that little red car, trying to pull a stakeout on the alley he had recently vacated. This little turn of events was not ideal. He had two options: run away, or attack. He decided on number one. He ran, ducking into another alley, his shotgun and ammo belt slung over his shoulders. He stopped at a corner and readied the shotgun, getting perpared to kick the crap out of anything that came his way. Damn, why does this shit keep happening to me!? he wondered, adjusting his grip on the weapon.
"Oh, shit!"
Valentine was sitting in that little red car, trying to pull a stakeout on the alley he had recently vacated. This little turn of events was not ideal. He had two options: run away, or attack. He decided on number one. He ran, ducking into another alley, his shotgun and ammo belt slung over his shoulders. He stopped at a corner and readied the shotgun, getting perpared to kick the crap out of anything that came his way. Damn, why does this shit keep happening to me!? he wondered, adjusting his grip on the weapon.
Valentine
15 years ago
She might look young and carefree but Val was a soldier. She knew what she was looking for, where to look for it and what each little clue meant and thanks to immortality, she had a bit more experience than most mortals.
She’d caught sight of Rowland moving through the alley and she’d marked his car. If she was reading the signs right he was more heavily armed than she’d thought too. Watching him take off she was practically giddy and giggled like a woman her age, well the age she appeared. It was always so much more fun when they ran. Damned fortuitous night, maybe she was hungrier than she thought any one this edgy and talented –had- to taste good.
Now how to handle it? Simple tail to start, give him a chance to lose her. When that failed, and Val was sure it would, she could jump ahead of him and grab him. He’d probably stay away from crowds so that would help. Although she’d love the challenge of tracking him with innocent bystanders about.
Giving a sensible head start she leisurely left her little Porsche, the big flashy Vanquish was safe and sound in her garage, locked it and started toward the other alley. He was edgy and possibly reckless and she didn’t want to start another firefight so she slowly slid around the corner taking cover behind a big dumpster and letting her un-naturally good hearing tell her if he was moving or not.
God she was hungry. She could feel the blood pound through her veins, behind her ears , in her nose. Her fangs, which she could normally hide were now extremely prominent. Oh god she wanted him.
She’d caught sight of Rowland moving through the alley and she’d marked his car. If she was reading the signs right he was more heavily armed than she’d thought too. Watching him take off she was practically giddy and giggled like a woman her age, well the age she appeared. It was always so much more fun when they ran. Damned fortuitous night, maybe she was hungrier than she thought any one this edgy and talented –had- to taste good.
Now how to handle it? Simple tail to start, give him a chance to lose her. When that failed, and Val was sure it would, she could jump ahead of him and grab him. He’d probably stay away from crowds so that would help. Although she’d love the challenge of tracking him with innocent bystanders about.
Giving a sensible head start she leisurely left her little Porsche, the big flashy Vanquish was safe and sound in her garage, locked it and started toward the other alley. He was edgy and possibly reckless and she didn’t want to start another firefight so she slowly slid around the corner taking cover behind a big dumpster and letting her un-naturally good hearing tell her if he was moving or not.
God she was hungry. She could feel the blood pound through her veins, behind her ears , in her nose. Her fangs, which she could normally hide were now extremely prominent. Oh god she wanted him.
Steven
15 years ago
No amount of training could have prepared Steven for this. His bogey, what appeared to be a young Irish girl, was hot on his heels, and, by the looks of it, she wasn't human. It would be a good time to have Trin with him, although Pual would have been fun. But he was flying solo tonight, and he needed to fly or die. It seemed Fate was a cruel bitch after all. He decided to attack, and end this right here and now. He snuck up to about 60 feet from the dumpster she had ducked behind, and pulled a hand grenade out of the pouch on his ammo belt, pulled the pin, and walked forward a couple steps.
"You can't hide in there all day!" He threw the grenade. It went off inside the dumpster, as Steve raised the shotgun once more.
"Did that get you attention?"
He aimed the gun, clipping off two blasts. Two clouds of buckshot buried themselves in the dumpster. He waited, heart pounding, then crept up soundlessly. He got to the metal container, then stopped. Time to give her a chance. "Why are you following me? What the hell do you want from me?" Using his own voice for cover, he darted forward, coming right to the corner of the dumpster. There he waited, watching and listening for any sign of attack, or response.
"You can't hide in there all day!" He threw the grenade. It went off inside the dumpster, as Steve raised the shotgun once more.
"Did that get you attention?"
He aimed the gun, clipping off two blasts. Two clouds of buckshot buried themselves in the dumpster. He waited, heart pounding, then crept up soundlessly. He got to the metal container, then stopped. Time to give her a chance. "Why are you following me? What the hell do you want from me?" Using his own voice for cover, he darted forward, coming right to the corner of the dumpster. There he waited, watching and listening for any sign of attack, or response.
Valentine
15 years ago
Oh that son of a bitch! Val cursed violently under her breath. Now he had her Irish up, so to speak. She'd just come back from this kind of crap and was only looking for a game but if he wanted to play serious, he'd find she was more than happy to oblige him.
"Oh you'd be surprised how long I can wait."Â?
Her voice was hard and cold as she slipped into soldier mode.
As he attacked her original hiding place Val moved, she wedged herself behind the dumpster. With decades of training and practice to fall back on she moved silently between the dumpster and the wall. There were some old pallets and trash cans on the other side of the alley, thanks to greater than human abilities she slipped over there and was now behind him.
Quickly plotting out two escape routes and two offense options she raised her voice to him.
"You ran out on me. It makes a lady feel unattractive. It makes some of us mad."Â?
Knowing her voice would have given away her location, she, while remaining in a very low crouch, hustled into a doorway and drew her gun. She'd rather cripple than kill him, at least with the gun. The doorway was deep and good cover, but she could potentially be trapped. Of course, if he tried to corner her she'd give up all pretenses at subtlety, he probably wouldn't appreciate that... but she would.
"Oh you'd be surprised how long I can wait."Â?
Her voice was hard and cold as she slipped into soldier mode.
As he attacked her original hiding place Val moved, she wedged herself behind the dumpster. With decades of training and practice to fall back on she moved silently between the dumpster and the wall. There were some old pallets and trash cans on the other side of the alley, thanks to greater than human abilities she slipped over there and was now behind him.
Quickly plotting out two escape routes and two offense options she raised her voice to him.
"You ran out on me. It makes a lady feel unattractive. It makes some of us mad."Â?
Knowing her voice would have given away her location, she, while remaining in a very low crouch, hustled into a doorway and drew her gun. She'd rather cripple than kill him, at least with the gun. The doorway was deep and good cover, but she could potentially be trapped. Of course, if he tried to corner her she'd give up all pretenses at subtlety, he probably wouldn't appreciate that... but she would.
Steven
15 years ago
Yeah, like Steve was gonna belive that bullshit. He had to admit, she was good. But Steve knew he was way better. He quickly located her hiding spot, and attacked again, trying to hit her. He saw her move to a doorway, and, as she went and Steve fired on her moving form, he noticed that she was carrying a gun, which Steve identified as a 9mm, possibly a Glock or Browning. His suspicions of her being military were now confirmed, since her skills seemed to be almost as good as his, and she seemed to be a fun opponent. He snarled, planting another cloud of buckshot in a window above her hiding spot and showering the area below with shards of glass. He decided to test her.
"I can always spot a fellow soldier, and I must say, you give us real soldiers a bad name. You think you're bad? I think otherwise. But I'm a nice guy, so I'll make you a deal: come out with your hands up, and we'll work this out. I dont want to kill you, but you are really pissing me off!"
With that out of the way, if she decided to attack, then she was toast, and Steve would feel no regrets for killing her. Not that he would have anyway. She was hostile, and she therefore deserved to die. As long as she wasn't a vamp. However, Steve knew that all women, even ones like Trin, were able to be sweet-talked.
"Look, Valentine. I ran because I was spooked. I was uneasy because I thought I was being tailed by a hostile." Which was partly true. Steve lowered his gun to his side, keeping it ready to fire at moment's notice. "To be honest, I'd rather do you than a French supermodel. So, can we put this behind us, and go have a good time? My treat?"
At that point, Steve longed for the old days, where he could kill his enemies without worrying about the repurcusions. A man was free back then. Now, he had to worry about "police brutality" and what not. Damn hippies. He walked forward, slinging his gun over his shoulder. Hopefully she was forgiving, however, if she was a true soldier and not some yahoo terrorist who considered herself a warrior, this situation could get very ugly. Wonderful. This is just what I needed. Steve stopped at the dumpster, eyeing Valentine's doorway, his wounds form the previous few nights starting to hurt again.
"Well," he said. "What's it gonna be?"
"I can always spot a fellow soldier, and I must say, you give us real soldiers a bad name. You think you're bad? I think otherwise. But I'm a nice guy, so I'll make you a deal: come out with your hands up, and we'll work this out. I dont want to kill you, but you are really pissing me off!"
With that out of the way, if she decided to attack, then she was toast, and Steve would feel no regrets for killing her. Not that he would have anyway. She was hostile, and she therefore deserved to die. As long as she wasn't a vamp. However, Steve knew that all women, even ones like Trin, were able to be sweet-talked.
"Look, Valentine. I ran because I was spooked. I was uneasy because I thought I was being tailed by a hostile." Which was partly true. Steve lowered his gun to his side, keeping it ready to fire at moment's notice. "To be honest, I'd rather do you than a French supermodel. So, can we put this behind us, and go have a good time? My treat?"
At that point, Steve longed for the old days, where he could kill his enemies without worrying about the repurcusions. A man was free back then. Now, he had to worry about "police brutality" and what not. Damn hippies. He walked forward, slinging his gun over his shoulder. Hopefully she was forgiving, however, if she was a true soldier and not some yahoo terrorist who considered herself a warrior, this situation could get very ugly. Wonderful. This is just what I needed. Steve stopped at the dumpster, eyeing Valentine's doorway, his wounds form the previous few nights starting to hurt again.
"Well," he said. "What's it gonna be?"
Valentine
15 years ago
Val traced the point of one fang with her tongue, it was something she did repeatedly, much like a nervous tick. She wasn’t even aware of it.
Kill her, she snorted mentally. Better men (and women) and tried and failed to kill her. She also didn’t appreciate the sissy ass game or the no so subtle manipulation. No, it was time to show this midnight snack what she was made of.
Slowly dropping to one knee she put a bullet through his shoulder. That hurt like a son of a bitch, she knew. It also gave her enough time to sprint out of her hiding place and pin him against the wall.
“My good time is different than yours.”
Brutally shoving his head to one side so she could get a good bite on his neck Val had just made the decision he wouldn’t live to see the morning, but something was wrong… off. What the fuck? She drew back her lips pulled back in a snarl.
She jammed her gun into his stomach and clamped her other hand just under his jaw, it wouldn’t take much to make it –very- hard for him to breath.
“Who’ve you been playing with flyboy? Lying is not a good option right now.”
This town was getting too crowed if she had to question her meals. Depending on his answer, she might still have a bite to eat and he still might not see morning; but damned it she could exercise a bit of self-restraint and political astuteness. At least a minutes worth. She wasn’t an animal.
((OOC… permission given to man handle))
Kill her, she snorted mentally. Better men (and women) and tried and failed to kill her. She also didn’t appreciate the sissy ass game or the no so subtle manipulation. No, it was time to show this midnight snack what she was made of.
Slowly dropping to one knee she put a bullet through his shoulder. That hurt like a son of a bitch, she knew. It also gave her enough time to sprint out of her hiding place and pin him against the wall.
“My good time is different than yours.”
Brutally shoving his head to one side so she could get a good bite on his neck Val had just made the decision he wouldn’t live to see the morning, but something was wrong… off. What the fuck? She drew back her lips pulled back in a snarl.
She jammed her gun into his stomach and clamped her other hand just under his jaw, it wouldn’t take much to make it –very- hard for him to breath.
“Who’ve you been playing with flyboy? Lying is not a good option right now.”
This town was getting too crowed if she had to question her meals. Depending on his answer, she might still have a bite to eat and he still might not see morning; but damned it she could exercise a bit of self-restraint and political astuteness. At least a minutes worth. She wasn’t an animal.
((OOC… permission given to man handle))
Steven
15 years ago
Steve was really starting to hate firefights. This redhead was really pushing it. He snarled as the slug punched through his arm, and he returned fire. The next thing he knew, he was up against the wall, a gun to his gut and a hand to his throat. She went to bite, but the marks on his neck seemed to stop her. He reached down to his belt, where his phone was. With two buttons, Steve speed-dialed the one person he knew could help him: Trin. Then, dropping the phone to the ground so Trin could hear the trouble, he reached for his pistol. The other hand went to the fireworks under his coat.
"Fuck you, suck-head," the 'flyboy' said, grinning. "You'd better watch your ass, I don't play around with scum like you. You don't know what you're dealing with here. Then again, thats the thing about vamps, now aint it? You fanged bastards are stupid. After all-"
Steve lit the fireworks, twisting his body out of Valentine's grip in the cloud of thick smoke created by the pyros as they exploded. He snagged his shotgun from where he had dropped it, then turned towards the vampire, shooting the only source of light, which was the streetlight at the end of the alley.
"So, you think you're a real soldier? Then let's go. Let's see some of your training." He bared his very human teeth. "You have no clue. You don't know the meaning of honor, of courage. You've never had your brothers die beside you on the battlefield. You've never taken bullets for your country. You're just some snot-nosed bitch with a gun. So bring it. I want you to fight me with honor. And don't worry, I won't sick my vampire friend on you if by some chance you don't fail miserably. Because, besides being a soldier, I'm a familiar. Thats why my neck looks like a termite mound." He put his fists up, ready to kick this vamp's ass into next week. "I've killed better fighters than you with my bare hands. So bring it!"
He glared at her through the dissipating smoke. Time to make an example of her. Just as long as his wounds from earlier, as well as the recent bullet in his shoulder didn't get in his way...
"Fuck you, suck-head," the 'flyboy' said, grinning. "You'd better watch your ass, I don't play around with scum like you. You don't know what you're dealing with here. Then again, thats the thing about vamps, now aint it? You fanged bastards are stupid. After all-"
Steve lit the fireworks, twisting his body out of Valentine's grip in the cloud of thick smoke created by the pyros as they exploded. He snagged his shotgun from where he had dropped it, then turned towards the vampire, shooting the only source of light, which was the streetlight at the end of the alley.
"So, you think you're a real soldier? Then let's go. Let's see some of your training." He bared his very human teeth. "You have no clue. You don't know the meaning of honor, of courage. You've never had your brothers die beside you on the battlefield. You've never taken bullets for your country. You're just some snot-nosed bitch with a gun. So bring it. I want you to fight me with honor. And don't worry, I won't sick my vampire friend on you if by some chance you don't fail miserably. Because, besides being a soldier, I'm a familiar. Thats why my neck looks like a termite mound." He put his fists up, ready to kick this vamp's ass into next week. "I've killed better fighters than you with my bare hands. So bring it!"
He glared at her through the dissipating smoke. Time to make an example of her. Just as long as his wounds from earlier, as well as the recent bullet in his shoulder didn't get in his way...
Valentine
15 years ago
God damned that hurt. If he hadn’t twisted Val would have let go, but she didn’t drop her gun. Lord knows she had learned that lesson the hard way.
Oh he was pushing all the right buttons, her fangs tingled and she desperately wanted to tear him apart with her bare hands consequences be damned. She forced the gut reaction down so she could think and handle the situation right. If he was a familiar, she needed to know who’s and who he was connected with. She was sure the medallion played in to it but still couldn’t place it.
Not taking her eyes off him she practically snarled.
“You talk to me when you’ve spent thirty years in the trenches and it’s your home that’s been invaded. No, you don’t know the half of it. Modern warfare is too clean.”
And knowing that Valentine had great respect for those older than her. Giovanni had told horror stories of hand-to-hand melees.
It took a supreme effort, if she had still been alive the effort probably would have given her a stroke, but she didn’t move on him. She could see the weak spots and knew he wouldn’t be ready for a tiny thing like her to be so strong, even if he did know vampires and was a familiar. But she held off, her eyes burning into him.
“No, I don’t play games with other’s toys not without permission. I might break them.”
She might not be willing to make a move, but she wasn’t giving any ground either. Still a sound that might have been a laugh escaped.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting your other half though. Your manners need work.”
Oh he was pushing all the right buttons, her fangs tingled and she desperately wanted to tear him apart with her bare hands consequences be damned. She forced the gut reaction down so she could think and handle the situation right. If he was a familiar, she needed to know who’s and who he was connected with. She was sure the medallion played in to it but still couldn’t place it.
Not taking her eyes off him she practically snarled.
“You talk to me when you’ve spent thirty years in the trenches and it’s your home that’s been invaded. No, you don’t know the half of it. Modern warfare is too clean.”
And knowing that Valentine had great respect for those older than her. Giovanni had told horror stories of hand-to-hand melees.
It took a supreme effort, if she had still been alive the effort probably would have given her a stroke, but she didn’t move on him. She could see the weak spots and knew he wouldn’t be ready for a tiny thing like her to be so strong, even if he did know vampires and was a familiar. But she held off, her eyes burning into him.
“No, I don’t play games with other’s toys not without permission. I might break them.”
She might not be willing to make a move, but she wasn’t giving any ground either. Still a sound that might have been a laugh escaped.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting your other half though. Your manners need work.”
Steven
15 years ago
Steve lunged forward, swinging for the face. So, modern warfare was clean? She had obviously never fought the insurgencey in Iraq. "Clean this, bitch!" He hit her twice, the spun on one foot, catching her stomach with his muscular leg. She tumbled to the ground, and Steve was there. He planted a size 13 combat boot onto her throat, holding her to the ground. He jammed his shotgun between her eyes, holding it with his left hand and cluthing his wound with the right. Blood was running from the wound pretty fast, and was dripping everywhere. A single drop fell from his hand and landed on her face, just above her upper lip. Steve grunted as his hand slipped, and a sharp pain shot through his shoulder.
"Listen, vampire. I don't give a flying rats ass what you think, or who you think you are, but you had better start running. I'm gonna go one way, and you go the other. I won't attack you tonight unless you assult me, but next time we meet, all bets are off. Got it?"
His heart pounded, and his ears rang. Would she give up?
(Permission to kick ass granted)
"Listen, vampire. I don't give a flying rats ass what you think, or who you think you are, but you had better start running. I'm gonna go one way, and you go the other. I won't attack you tonight unless you assult me, but next time we meet, all bets are off. Got it?"
His heart pounded, and his ears rang. Would she give up?
(Permission to kick ass granted)
Valentine
15 years ago
Fucking stubborn little bastard. She’d given him a perfectly good opportunity to walk away, any sane human, familiar or no, would have taken it. Ergo he must be insane.
Choosing to ignore his monolog Val deliberately and with great show licked his blood off her upper lip. Maybe he’d remember, or for that matter –think-, about what he was dealing with. She was not your ordinary petite redhead.
Deciding he was finished with his rambling with lightening speed, she thrust her foot into his groin, rolled to the side and regaining her feet threw him into a wall. He hit it with wonderfully satisfying cracking sound. Given the look on his face she’d guess he hit his head pretty good. That was ok with her, he didn’t seem to be using his head much any way.
“Try staying down and try not running into me again. I’ve played nice this time, but next time all bets are off. You can tell who ever holds your leash all about this but be sure to include two things: I didn’t bite, and you shot first.”
Picking her gun back up she kept a watchful eye on him, but he seemed to have finally gotten the message.
Good.
Now she had some real hunting to do. She walked away, not run, keeping one ear turned to him. Rounding the corner she slid into neat little Porsche and drove off.
((OOC… again permission to man handle granted and Val out.))
Choosing to ignore his monolog Val deliberately and with great show licked his blood off her upper lip. Maybe he’d remember, or for that matter –think-, about what he was dealing with. She was not your ordinary petite redhead.
Deciding he was finished with his rambling with lightening speed, she thrust her foot into his groin, rolled to the side and regaining her feet threw him into a wall. He hit it with wonderfully satisfying cracking sound. Given the look on his face she’d guess he hit his head pretty good. That was ok with her, he didn’t seem to be using his head much any way.
“Try staying down and try not running into me again. I’ve played nice this time, but next time all bets are off. You can tell who ever holds your leash all about this but be sure to include two things: I didn’t bite, and you shot first.”
Picking her gun back up she kept a watchful eye on him, but he seemed to have finally gotten the message.
Good.
Now she had some real hunting to do. She walked away, not run, keeping one ear turned to him. Rounding the corner she slid into neat little Porsche and drove off.
((OOC… again permission to man handle granted and Val out.))