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Finley Madison Quinlan (

bound_finn) wrote in

bound_rp,
@ 2014-09-13 02:58:00

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ɪs ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs
Date: Saturday, September 13, 2013
Time: 2:50 AM
Location: Town
Characters: Finley Quinlan
Description: Heading home after a successful hunt outside of town
Status: Open | In Progress

Nights like these (or mornings, whichever you prefer) were the reason that Finley praised her dark hair and cursed her pale skin. Sure, she could blend in with the shadows just as easily as she always could, but then there were those around her (like the things she hunted) that could see so well in the darkness that the porcelain of her skintone stood out like a lighthouse beacon on a night where clouds covered the night sky to block out the moon and stars. The long black sleeves, black stretch pants and black boots went a long way to cover most of it, but her face was still very clear to the open air.

Luckily for her, the hunt she'd been on just outside of town was done and over with. A nasty little fucker that thought little kids were his own personal dessert.

She'd gotten word from a hunter in the next town over that he was headed this way and, while taking a hunt solo was not her usual choice of action, she was still on her own here in town. Where her brother and best friend were, she had no clue but they sure were taking their sweet time getting to her. That particular point of fact was starting to irritate her a bit, but hey, if they wanted to have their fun and take their time, she supposed she could allow it. Lord knew their lives came with an early expiration date most of the time. Might as well squeeze in some fun where you could. But they were leaving Finley out of it and that she just didn't appreciate.

Walking alone in the still of darkness while fog from the coast rolled around her ankles really didn't unnerve Finley like it would some people. She was used to the quiet of the night. Spent most of her life in it, as a matter of fact. She'd probably be right at home as a vampire, if she let one of those fangers so much as put a hand on her. It wasn't her style. Not really. She'd had one that she could remember and, while it had definitely been one hell of a night, she had no desires to go there again. The sex had been great. The fact that she was sleeping with a vampire... she could forego that temptation again. Fangs that close to her neck voluntarily was not really something she wanted to experience again.

As far as Finley was concerned, the nice big tub in her master bath was calling her name, along with some bubbles, a glass of wine and Netflix. The sooner she was out of these clothes and into hot water, the better. Thankfully her black clothing and the shadows of the night managed to hide the fact that there were a couple of splotches of blood here and there. It wasn't like she'd gotten in and out unscathed this time. Oh no. She knew there were a few cuts and scrapes (and she was oh so understating that) that needed to be tended to before relaxation could occur. It was a usual thing. Part of the post hunt routine. She thought that, perhaps, the stillness of the night during the walk home was part of that routine too, now. Crescent Cove still had a couple of people milling around at this hour, but it wasn't like she was in Las Vegas or a Hollywood. Compared to there, this place was a ghost town at this hour.

... A ghost town. Finley could couldn't help but chuckle at her own little unintentional pun... and in the middle of the fog and the quiet, that chuckle sounded like a foghorn on the ocean to her. Loud and intrusive. Oh well. That's how a lot of people would probably describe Finley as well.

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