Who: Vaughn & Sam & Vlad & Sebastian What: The Jane demasking. Where: Lobby to begin with. When: Early evening. Warnings: TBD.
Jane's life was comfortable. It was safe, professionally orchestrated between the pages of library books and lonely, long walks in the city. It's infrastructure wasn't built on the bloody edge of a thousand knives, a hundred threats, or a swarm of cackling dreams. Jane's life was so comfortable, it was the warmth of a down comforter. Vaughn had crawled beneath the glowing furnace of Jane, warmed her hands away from the frostbitten chill of her own reality. Now, she was cozy. Now, she was Jane. Why should she ever go back from this? She was getting closer to degreasing Daniel's resolve. He was drinking again, she knew. That alone was another nail in their mutual coffins.
Summer was here, and the sun stayed up long after it had a right to. Dinner bells were ringing in every happy home, but the sky was still dayglow. The horizon was set aflame in a cotton candy swirl of brain matter and tangerine flesh. Jane put out her cigarette on one of the front steps of Bellum and swept through the front doors of the lobby. She exhaled long after making her way across the tiles of the lobby, infiltrating the cool, machine conditioned air with the musk of her own tar and toxicity.
Her dress was a noncommittal shift of bruised plum linen, it fell like a funeral shroud around the subtle carve of thin limbs. 90's culture combat boots ruined the illusion of delicacy, they laced angry and black up the bone white display of her calves as she slithered to the mailboxes.