Haunted Roads

WHO: ABIGAIL and DRYSTAN
WHERE: A few blocks from the Towers
WHAT: Abigail walks home alone, and contemplates whether or not she might be insane.
RATING: TBA


It had been late, when she'd woken up. If it hadn't have been for the suppressed giggles of other students, she might have continued to doze, drooling on her copy of Plato's Republic all night. She knew she'd been too tired to head to the library after her lecture finished. She was always too tired, these days. But an evening of pumping her small body full of caffeine and pouring over Ancient Greek philosophy had seemed preferable, to her, than another sleepless night (or worse: another sleepful night) in her apartment.

She hadn't dreamed, in the library. She didn't even really feel like she'd slept, at all - one moment she was reading, glanced at the clock - ten past seven - and the next she jolted awake, and it was eight thirty, and the kids were laughing at her. They stopped, when she snapped her head around to stare at them, expressionless, her eyes still cloudy with sleep. They pretended to be talking about Kafka. As if. Nobody talked about Kafka of their own free will. Certainly not students.

The bus jolted to a stop, pulling her out of her thoughts, for a moment, as she scrambled to find her bag. She thanked the driver, absently, not even sure if she'd made a sound, and stepped out in to the night.

Fuck, it was freezing. Two moments in the cold and already she felt as though her fingers might be turning blue. She wrapped the ends of her coat around them, like she used to do when she was a child, reminding herself for the thousandth time that she really ought to buy some mittens, and set off down the darkened sidewalk. It was probably wasn't safe to walk home alone. Not in a big city like this. But she found herself curiously ambivalent about it all...after all, what was the worst that could happen? Somehow, even the most gruesome scenarios didn't seem to bother her...though she knew that at the first sign of footsteps behind her she'd be wetting herself, praying to God that whoever it was walked on past, without a word.

Recklessness, her father would have called it. If he'd known. Or noticed. But she barely spoke to her Father. At least they both had an excuse for that, now that he was living in New York.

She shrugged her coat in closer to her body as a gust of wind found its way to her neck, sending a light shiver down her spine. Something about it...the feeling, or the way she'd moved, reminded her of last nights assault from her subconscious. She didn't remember it, entirely. She'd fallen asleep watching television, and woken up in a cold sweat, in her bed, confused and dazed. She'd been sleepwalking again, perhaps. She'd have to make an appointment with Doctor Clark, tomorrow - get another prescription. But it wasn't her change in location that bothered her. She shivered again, involuntarily, as she thought back to the dream. Flashes of red that made her throat tighten. A shadowy hand running white fingers down her chest.

Maybe she ought to have studied psychology, instead of philosophy. It bothered her that she was even entertaining the fact that these nightmares (if that's what you'd call them. She wondered, sometimes...because it was only after the fact that they perturbed her. She tried her best not to admit it to herself, but occasionally she almost...enjoyed them) might be caused by something other than her own damaged mind. Everyone had nightmares, surely? And the sleepwalking...well, that wasn't so peculiar, either.

She chewed on her bottom lip, absently, pouring over what she could remember of the dream. She couldn't help but feel that there was some important detail that she was forgetting. Something that was evading her. She rounded the corner, barely looking where she was going, lost inside the dark passageways of her own mind.

WHO: Adian, Chloe, and Drystan
WHEN: Wednesday Night (Approaching midnight.)
WHERE: Dimitriou's Jazz Alley
WHAT: Adian decides to do a bit of performing.



"Good evening." Her voice rang out over the club's sound system, as she spoke into the microphone. Adian stood back, smiling softly, as a few of the regulars broke out in applause. This establishment, had been one of the first she visited, after they made to move to Seattle. When she wasn't baby sitting Vallis, or having a drink at one of the smaller pubs, or bars, she was here. Singing, and performing for any one who would listen. Or simply enjoying the other musicians who frequented the stage. One group in particular, she'd made a deal with. They would back her, while she sang, and any money earned, would go to them.

Now that Vallis was claiming her as his pet, she didn't have to work. He was disgustingly well off, and she was reaping the benefits of that wealth. If having fine clothing, and luxurious living arrangements, meant that she had to put up with his bullshit on occasion... she could handle it. It made sense, that they stuck together. After all, they were both seeking the same woman, and that search bound them together. They were family in a way, tied together through Roslin. There was also a comfort, in having someone to turn to, even if he was bastard.

"I'm Adian, an Britain native, if you can't tell. These gentlemen behind me, are Second Sight, they are Seattle natives. We could like to play a few songs for you this night, if that suits you." When the applause broke once more, she turned to look towards the band. "On three then." The lights dimmed over the stage, before the drummer began to count them off. The house was still, when the begging rift of the song started. A repeating mix of drums, and guitar, sounding in seven. When the music silenced once more, she began. "Cry baby.... I know she told ya, I know she told ya that she loved you. Much more than I do...." The old blues song, made famous by Janis Joplin. A personal favorite of hers. It was one that always seemed to get the crowd going, which was an excellent way to start off a set.

Those in the audience might not know it, but she'd been performing on stage, for almost seventy years now. Having played all through out England, and in the places she, and Vallis moved to, before finally settling here. She was a pro, Adian knew how to work the stage, how to appease the audience. A true entertainer, if there ever was. Her voice carried such soul, and strength, it was surprising that such power came from such a delicate form. It had been surprising people her entire life. Even as a child, when she stood before the congregation, and sang hems from the bible, people were often left with their jaws, resting upon the floor. The talent had been nurtured, and encouraged by her mother. Allowed to blossom to it's full potential, to what it was now.

When the final drum beat seized, the gathered crowd erupted. It gave her a true rush, but her smile was kept at a moderate. She didn't want to draw attention to her fangs. "Thank you..." She said, before returning the mic to it's stand. "This next song, is one of my own. It's called Tender." It was immediately obvious, that the tone of the song would be drastically different from their first. The beat was much heavier, and slower. The guitar began the intro, joined some time later by the drums. Gripping the sides of the mic, Adian stepped forward, placing her lips a few inches from it. "I run, I fall, I drift away. Check my body now, was it body or soul? The darkness fades, fades to the light. Disappearing now, disappears from the night. And all these nightmares I once had as a child. The morning always came, it came too late. What did my mind forget, forget to hide? Could the nightmare be awake? I don't know..."