Haunted Roads

Who: Ophelia and Dimitri
Where: Canlis Restaurant
When: Night time

The Caché, the secret little niche nestled in privacy, providing Canlis’ most spectacular view, and now one of Ophelia’s favorite finds in this Emerald City. The ages old vampiress had a habit of learning bits and pieces of whatever city she stayed in and Seattle was no exception. She did after all, intend to be here at least a little while. Though, she could just as easily be gone again, if it proved too much.

Her life now was much as it had always been, save the years with her children. A nomad, traveling where the wind willed her. The only time she’d settled had been when she had family. When they had gone, so too had her roots, she lifted up and moved on once again, heavy hearted, but having finally known love. She’d been touched by the experience, and had learned as well.

Dimitri had agreed to meet her and so Ophelia had made arrangements at a neutral spot, where neither would feel put upon, or pressured in any way. If she believed he wouldn’t hate every moment of it, she’d have simply set a date upon her yacht, her home, but that, for now was out of the question. As was a meeting in the Towers where he lived. Where his siblings lived.

Nevermind, The Caché was a nice room, a pleasant atmosphere with a spectacular view. Though neither she nor Dimitri had need of food, they could and did, at times, indulge in certain edible delicacies, a few of which would be served to them tonight. The waiter also would be serving her own wine as requested, though of course, for a surcharge, as Canlis was in it for the money. She paid well, tipping in advance for what she expected to be spectacular, and discreet, service.

The room lit only by candlelight, and the occasional twinkle of stars as they fought their way through the clouds, Ophelia took seat on the chaise, leaving the table for after Dimitri arrived. A cigarette was brought to her lips, quickly lit by the waiter, who knew to look aside from many city laws when it came to this room. The music of a by-gone era played softly in the background, music the two had so enjoyed in their days together, and in their travels. Perhaps it was played for his benefit, but in truth, this was the same music Ophelia most often found herself drawn to. Perhaps for good reason.

Who: Abigail and Anthony
Where: 13th Floor, Old Town Towers
When: Monday night

Abigail couldn't sleep, again. The dream had come early that night, almost directly after she'd laid her head on the pillow, without even a minute of uninterrupted darkness to lull her into a false sense of security. It had seemed sharper, too - the blood darker, thicker...when she'd woken, she could have sworn she'd seen a figure hovering by her bed a moment, before her mind cleared and she realised it was just her full length mirror, reflecting shadow.

Her heart was beating too fast in her chest, and she'd been sweating, even though it was still chilly in her small apartment. After half an hour of pacing around her living room, distractedly, she'd decided it might be a good idea to get out of the house. Not a particularly rational thing to do, at just shy of midnight, but she was still groggy from sleep and dizzy with the scraps of disturbing images from her dream.

She slipped on her bathing suit, a tshirt and a pair of faded pinstripe pants, grabbed a towel, and headed out. She never went up to the pool, during the day. It made her feel awkward, parading around in barely any clothing at all, in front of an audience. She rolled her eyes, inwardly, as she stepped sleepily in to the lift. Stupid of her to think she'd ever have made a good artists model, given how uncomfortable she was with her own body. Ah well, that was certainly a lesson learned.

The thirteenth floor was, as she'd hoped, deserted. Nobody was lurking in the roof-top garden, tonight, and the pool was still and clear. One toe dipped in the water determined that it was far too cold, despite being heated. But the spa seemed inviting. She'd just slip in for a few minutes, try and relax a little, then go back downstairs. Maybe if she took the time to unwind, the dream wouldn't bother her again, tonight.

She couldn't help looking around the deserted pool area several more times before slipping off her tshirt and wriggling out of her pants. She felt exposed, in the black bikini, even with nobody watching. She slipped hurriedly in to the warm water, pressing the button and allowing a flurry of bubbles to engulf her, tipping her head back to look up at the sky, too cloudy for stars, tonight.

Who: Drystan (Narrative)
Where: His Offices
When: Friday Early Evening


Business per usual and business was good. When wasn't it though? It wasn't as if Drystan put his hard earned money into anything that wasn't bound to be more than lucrative. At some point in the past each and every penny had been hard earned and for one as jaded as he was, he never failed to appreciate what a few coins could do for a person.

That whole money can't buy you happiness was a load of rubbish. Unless you had a heart then in theory there could be a problem but Drystan had never encountered that particular dilemma. Money had bought him all the happiness, pain and torture in the world and really he couldn't ask for anything more.

Except for perhaps some obedience. He'd almost forgotten about her. Foolish little chit... what was her name again? He'd call her child for the time being. He knew exactly what her name was, those that managed to slip past his carefully crafted walls were not about to be forgotten though he would be the last one to let the child know she was a piteous little thorn in his side. He did hate that he'd been momentarily bested.

Those that had helped her were long dead. Though their deaths hadn't been quick or simple. That was far too kind a favor on his part for such a betrayal. The girl would be next.

At least according to the paper sitting on his desk she would be. A cruel smile curved over his face as he read the carefully scripted words. He really did hate the plain face of text and those that worked for him indulged in his love of hand written correspondence. While Drystan did enjoy a good hunt he was a busy a man... in this case an employee had been charged with finding the girls location once he had relocated to the United States... that was where her trail had led. And it was time for the chase to pick up again.

Of course she made it easy for him... she was in Seattle.

A dancer. Now wasn't that sweet. It was just about time to see how entertaining she could truly be.

Who: Sophie (Narrative)
Where: School
When: Sometime in the Day
What: Ignoring Class Lessons

Nothing unusual to any of her teachers, or any others, that Sophie slept through most of her classes. Seated as per her custom, to the back of the room, eyes closed behind dark shades, Sophie attempted cat naps, but while others thought she did just that, Sophie was too pumped to sleep.

Bastian. Now that was like a dream in itself. Was it real? Had she hallucinated it? Nope, none of it. He was real, and he was really here. But damn, she had not wanted to leave. She hadn’t wanted to go home, to get bitched at for staying out all night, and to not be able to tell Maggie anything. In fact, if Maggie weren’t at home today, Sophie might have skipped class and tried to sleep in. A feat seeming less and less likely, not for her surroundings but just for her own emotions and racing thoughts.

Too many of those thoughts she had to keep pushing aside. Sophie questions everything in her life. This however, she was choosing not to question. For the first time in her life. Was that what faith was? Yes. She understood now exactly what faith meant. She loved him, was grateful to have him back, and would do whatever was necessary not to screw any of that up.

Besides… nothing beyond that mattered. He was back, alive and well, and that was what mattered.

Now… how long was Sophie going to have to avoid Maggie? She could lie easy enough, but not when there was something she was itching to share. Straight away after school she wouldn’t be returning home anyway, but back to the hotel. Sophie knew exactly where it was.

She had to see her father again.