carnivale NOCTURNE, threading and logs

Who: Cole and dupes
What: As stated in his journal entry, Cole is bored and that is never good
Where: Around the Carnival
When: Monday, before opening hours.
Rating: Low

( Boredom was by far the greatest killer of most people, some doctors actually claimed that it killed brain cells.  )

Who: Dasha and Slade
What: A chance encounter, while waiting.
When: June 7th, while Roman's at rehearsal
Where: Roman and Slade's trailer
Rating: TDB
Status: In Progress

In theory, Dasha should have been rehearsing. It was only a few more days until she would be joining Roman under the big top for the debut of their double act, and with how dangerous some of the stunts they were considering could be, there was no such thing as too much preparation.

The problem was, Dasha didn't feel like it. It had been a long week full of hot, sluggish nights and poor hunting, culminating in this evening's feeding fiasco, which had involved a scuffle with a thick headed neonate eager to swipe another vampire's meal. Dasha had fended him off--with an embarrassing amount of difficulty, which she blamed on his size--but in the process, had taken a mallet sized fist to the ribs, leaving her bruised and with a few hairline fractures for her trouble. The fight had broken the mesmerism she'd placed on her food--a pretty redhead who'd been trying to 'hey mister' her way into a six pack of free beer outside a convenience store--and, to her annoyance, Dasha had been forced to catch the girl and drain her completely, then trek two hours to dispose of the body by sinking it to the bottom of a quiet, out of the way lake.

She was definitely not rehearsing tonight. So, instead, Dasha made her way uncomfortably across the grounds, with the full intention of picking the lock on Roman's trailer door and borrowing his shower. Happily, she found she didn't have to break in; the door was unlocked, and there were towels in Roman's bedroom. Muttering a brief prayer of thanks--though as she was an atheist, she did not know to whom--Dasha selected a fluffy white one out of the pile, and folded it across her arm. The hot water would do her good, she thought. It would be nice to get the pond scum from the lake bottom off her skin, and soothe away the tension leaving knots in every muscle group it could find. Even her teeth hurt, though that was less unusual than she would have preferred; the steel implants where her eye teeth should have been ached in cold weather, after overuse, or when she was under an inordinate amount of stress, such as at present.

"Fool of a will worker," she muttered in English, stopping on her way towards the bathroom to examine her teeth in the mirror. Her gums were swollen and angry looking. "Could you not have made them to be removed every once in a while?"