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The Last Temptation [28 Jun 2008|12:06am] A sort of belated madness set over the city, after the initial shock of the revelation passed. With the President's address, the full weight of a new world reality rested heavily on morale. There were those who continued rioting and looting and venting their frustrations in destructive ways. The mass exodus carried on, though highway traffic was nightmarish. But in increasing numbers, people began to go into nonfunctional states. They wandered about lost, having been ousted from hotel rooms or robbed of their cars. When stranded without a place to go or a direction to pursue, they simply walked. But here, they were also thwarted. A national curfew had been put in place. At dusk, everyone was to get inside. While it would be impossible to capture all who disobeyed, the local policing forces and national guard managed to force businesses to close. Enforcement vehicles patrolled the streets, shining spotlights into dark corners, and pronouncing the curfew loudly to any who lingered. People were literally horded into the nearest buildings. It was the price to pay for pushing their luck. Rhiannon got stuck in such a trap. She was patrolling near the Orleans hotel when she rounded a corner and found herself face-to-face with a police car. Reversing directions only pointed her at another one. The area was blocked off. Rather than pick a fight, the brunette put her hands up, voicing a tired, "Alright, Christ," and went into the hotel... Where there was profit to be made. Management claimed that no one was allowed to loiter. Since the casino and bar were closed, there was nothing else to do but pull out a bank card and get a hotel room. Luckily, over thirty rooms had gone prematurely vacant. Under normal circumstances, Rhiannon would've cursed a blue streak and hit the nearest emergency exit, but leaving was rendered impossible. With a mental attitude of 'fuck it', she dragged ass upstairs and locked herself in a standard single. The decor in Orleans was a supposedly modern take on art deco. The walls were alternately red or rust or burnt orange. The furniture, white with turquoise accents. The throw pillows were shaped like tubes. Rhiannon grabbed such a tube and tossed it in the air, pacing around despite feeling as if she were an engine running on empty. The television as distraction? No. The only thing on was that god-forsaken man's face, reciting his inspirational script over and over and over... As if it wasn't his administration that made Project Integration possible. Rhiannon rubbed her wrist, where the chip was hidden, then forced herself to toss the pillow aside and check out the mini-fridge. "I seem to recall a bath..." Elfleda's voice. Unmistakable. One of those moments where she deliberately used that strange ability of hers to link with both mind and physical ears. Neither exclusively one, nor the other. Even when it came of sensation, it seemed the Corruptress teased. As ever, when next she spoke, it was purely with what could only really be described as vocal chords. Whether or not Elfleda physically still possessed any, of course, was a matter for personal interpretation. The last time they had met, Rhiannon had helped her to ascend back to hellish throne. As of now, she just casually walked directly through wall. What could she want now? "It's all a bit of a puzzle, isn't it?" ( An Invitation ) Reply

Frustration [28 Jun 2008|12:59am] [ mood | frustrated ] Taking the car could have been a bad idea, that was excatly what Reverie was thinking as some crazed truck driver almost took a U-Turn out of the parking lot she was currently trying to get into. Slamming her foot on the break, she smashed her fist against the horn. It emitted a loud piercing sound and caught the other drivers attention. He flipped her the finger and continued to try and U-Turn, blocking her path. She wasn't usually lacking patience, but lately her inner demon flamed up so intensly it was starting to frighten to her. It was something she would have to take up with Dr Metzger. Whatever experiments she's been doing... Reverie didn't like how they were effecting her human part. Rolling her window down, she shouted unabashedly, "Fucking move already!" The guy in the car gave her a sneer, paused, and turned his ingine off. Reverie's hands clenched on her steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Now was not the time to expose herself. Sure there was Slayers, Witchs, Vampires, Demons... You name it. The problem was, she was the only one of her kind. It made her sick, suddenly to the government she was like a rare Pokemon waiting to be collected. Gotta Catch 'Em All! Reverie clenched her teeth. Gripping the steering wheel under her hands until her skin felt molded to it, she lifted her foot off the break peddle and gave an almost animalistic glare at the truck driver. So he wasn't going to move huh? She'll move him herself. Why not, everyone else was out being defenders of anarchy. Reverie kept eye contact, and reved the engine of her car. The guy in the truck laughed. "Darlin' this is a 4x4, your little sports number don't worry me." Reverie didn't even bother with a retort. Her foot slammed into the gas as her hand manouvered the stick shift. The car screeched forward, rear-ending the truck with a crash and scrap of metal on metal. "You litle bitch!" It was Reverie's time to flip them the finger, her foot still on the gas and pushing the truck further down the road. Then, she reversed calmly and shot off into the parking lot, exicuting a spectacular parking between two other cars. She stepped outside and made her way forward to the Super Store. She was going to stock up on things like candles, weapons, foods, the usual in the face of empending doom. With a sigh, she walked inside the giant supermarket. Her ears were the first things being assaulted. Then it was her eyes. People, some demons, some nice demons, clerks, people fighting, screaming at each other. Threatening violence, shouting, pushing, snarling, indignant yells echoing around the isles like some ghostly wail. This could take a while... Reverie groaned, and turned up the first isle, grabbing bottles of water, batters, and torches. Next was the sports section. Baseball bats, aluminium of course, and darts. They could come in handy. She meandered like that for a few minutes, her trolly packed by the time she neared the screaming at the checkouts. Someone was pointing and screaming at a man in a coat. Reverie narrowed her eyes. That wasn't a man... It was a demon, that was... Apologising? What the hell? Rolling her cart straight to that checkout, she shouted, "Hey, what's going on here. Serve the customer." The guy behind the chekout spat back, "I'm not serving that thing anything. It's an abomination, a freak." Reverie's teeth clenched again, and she moved far too quickly for an average human, before the clerk had blinked Reverie had a grip of his collar and was pulling him across the checkout until his toes dangled. "Listen you little arrogant fuck, if he's not biting your god damn head off and apologising it makes him more fucking human than a piece of trash like you. Now get back there and get this line of customers free, before I suggest we all walk out due to your shitty attitude. If we're all being seen as freaks, we might as well become theifs too, right?" The clerk's face turned a pale white. So they could look human and act human too? His eyes nervously darted up the crowd which seemed to have calmed down due to him being hauled across the counter. "Get some fucking respect, and get back to work before we make you lose it." Standing with a smile was the demon in the jacket. Reverie gave him a soft smile in return. "I only came here to get my cat some food, she likes the nibbles." He laughed, his purple eyes shinning. Reverie grinned, adding, "Tell me about it... I don't care what anyone says, this place will always be hell for me." Reply

despite all my rage [28 Jun 2008|07:39pm] The police didn’t matter. The lack of people didn’t matter. The attempted calls to Star that remained, for now, unanswered didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to the demons of Sin City, still needing to feed. In turn, nothing mattered to Tyler, who continued to hunt as best he could. Prey was scarce for all of the night’s children. The dry season had fallen on the American Serengeti. Every hunt was an important one now. Every moment spent not feeding on the weaker was a moment of defeat. And if too many lost moments stacked up, the game was over. But in the night, when the dry dark fell upon the sands and neon lights When the predators came out When the hunters and the hunted played their ancient game When, if you stared hard enough, long enough in to the shadows, you might just see them move …the rituals continued. Sliding from shadow to dark place, a ghost of a man slipped unnoticed by all human eyes. He grinned wildly, the thrill of the hunt, the night air, and the chaos below made him feel so alive. That was a feeling he did not take for granted anymore. He paused momentarily, his eyes closed so that his inner senses could pick up on the subtle nuances of his environment. Thirty foot away, something moved. What ever it was that moved, it didn’t give off any body heat that was discernable to the young reincarnate. That meant only one thing. Bright fangs flashed in the neon light from across the street. Two hunters crossing paths. “We just have to play a little more quietly, won’t we?” In the shadows, one hunter triumphed over the other. Tyler would return home satisfied. Now if only he could find his girlfriend. Maybe there would be more satisfaction waiting for him in the night. Reply

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