Haunted Roads

Who: Slade and Anthony
Where: His place
When: Dinnertime
What: A bit of plottage, perhaps?

It had been far too long since she and Anthony had spent an evening cooking up the downfall of a mutual or, in this case individual, enemy whom they saw fit to take care of. Her curiosity was admittedly getting the better of her; it had been in full swing since the very first mention of the trouble that could be to come in the e-mail she'd sent to announce her return home - the very e-mail that had lead to their dinner plans for this evening. Truly, it was the conversation she was looking forward to most, nothing got an appetite going like talk of ruining lives and plotting against others. Now that the hour to share such delicious issues was nearly at hand, she could almost taste the havoc they could wreak.

Slade had even done so far as to dig up the gift box he'd left for her so soon after his arrival to Seattle, pulling it from it the black scrap he'd claimed was a dress. Usually she would dress for no man, wouldn't wear such a ridiculous get up if you paid her, but for tonight she was making an exception. After all, if he was going to give her the chance to cause a bit of trouble, then surely she could repay such generosity by donning some silly dress.

She left her office with enough time to come home and take a quick shower, washing away the scent that clung to Seattle, that faint hint of paltry little humans that clung to her high priced power-suits at the end of the day. Dark hair was washed and blow dried straight, then curled before she pinned it up and out of the way for the night - baring a tempting line of neck could never hurt when dealing with a vampire now could it? Or perhaps she simply liked to play with fire...it was her element, after all. Those icy eyes of hers were rimmed in smoky kohl liner, lips glossed in a pale pink before she tugged that little bit of fabric up over her curves. She toyed a moment with the rouching at the side, tying it off to bear a tempting glimpse of thigh. All that was left was pulling on a pair of black, strappy heels and lifting the black clutch she'd filled with what she'd need from its resting place.

Obviously the walk to Anthony's wasn't that long, in a matter of moment's she stood just outside his door. The sun had set nearly an hour earlier, plenty of time for him to be up and moving about. Raising a hand, she knocked loudly, waiting for him to let her in.

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: Jade and Tony
When: late evening
Where: Old Town Towers, D-11
Rating: there's absolutely no telling...

Jade was off from work tonight, and she'd been taking advantage of that by wandering farther from the areas where she usually fed. The day had been cloudy, and now that night had fallen, a chill had invaded the air, making the leather coat she wore over faded jeans and low-cut silk shirt completely reasonable. She did not feel the cold as she once had, finding that she was able to tolerate it very well now; formerly, she'd been the sort who complained every time the temperature dropped below fifty. She'd grown up in the dry heat of Arizona, and strangely she missed it even now. Still, that was the past and she knew that she'd likely never live permanently in Sedona again.

The heels of her battered brown boots clicked on the sidewalk as she walked briskly away from her latest victim, her stride fast yet somehow still nonchalant. She wore a thin silver wire necklace threaded with chunky amber and topaz-colored stones, and it thunked against her chest as she walked. It matched the dangling earrings she wore; she'd made the set herself before she'd been turned, when she'd been home for Christmas. Jade cast one last quick glance at the man she'd left on the bench, seeing that he was still sitting as she'd left him, hands folded loosely in his lap and his head lowered as if he might've dozed off while waiting for the bus. He wasn't dead, but he'd probably wish he was once he woke up. She was learning the fine art of how much blood she could take and leave a person reasonably coherent, but she didn't think she'd applied it in this case. She'd been too hungry.

Once out of sight, she licked at the end of one finger and dabbed at her lips, particularly in the corners of her mouth, wanting to make sure she hadn't left any blood on her face. As she walked along, she pulled a silver tube of lipstick from her jacket pocket and applied some more, blotting her lips with no need for a mirror. It was a trick she'd always been good at since the days when she'd first started wearing the stuff. Jade turned her head and glanced in the window of the shop she was passing, pleased to see that she looked the same as she had when she'd first left the Grand. Normal. If it weren't for the fangs that were ever-present in her mouth, she might think that she was normal.

( dark water )

Who: Anthony and Mab
When: Weds Night
Where: 11th Floor Hallway, then likely Tony's Condo
Rating: Likely PG13 for language, but unlikely to be higher

It had been a most unenjoyable evening. One that had entirely no purpose to it And if there was one thing that Tony did not enjoy, it was wasting his time. He might be immortal, he might have the patience that comes from living more than two centuries, but he did not enjoy wasting his time at all. Especially, when he could have been doing better things all along.

The fence would not waste his time again. That much he was certain of. Not if he wanted to live that was. As it was, having told Tony he could provide one thing, and then not actually provide that service was one thing that really irritated the vampire. But, on the bright side, and Tony so very much preferred thinking in brighter terms, at least he did not kill the fence. He was so very tempted. Instead, he settled for breaking apart a few items of questionable nature on the fences arm. It would heal sooner or later.

He took his time on his way home that evening. He knew it always took some time for him to come down out of a mood, and he did not want to risk ruining anything in his apartment. It was all so very brand new. That, and with his luck, one of his various pets or planned conquests would notice his mood and be scared off. That just would not be acceptable, after all. Go through all that effort to train and break a proper pet, only to ruin it with a temper tantrum.

But, in his own good time he did return to the Towers. And luck was with him in that he did not need to share the elevator ride up with anyone. Somehow, he suspected, he wouldn’t be able to deal with anyone in such an enclosed space without leaving a bloodstain or two on the side of the wall. But, just the thought of being able to rip someone’s head off brought a smile to his lips.

He saw her the moment he stepped off the elevator. He knew his luck was not going to hold out that night. It just wasn’t the way the fates had declared things. But, Tony put on a smile as he glanced in her direction, before he turned and began his way toward his condo.

Who: Anthony and Eliina
Where: Eliina's office
Why: Tony's branching out
Rating: PG13 at the minimum.

It had been an entertaining week so far. Having moved into a new home, Anthony was getting himself settled in. Most of his furniture had been taken care of. None of it really meant anything to him in the long run, but one always did have to keep up appearances at the very least. Potential victims coming into his home, which also doubled as his ‘photo studio’ would question the lack of furniture after all.

Of course, he already had to get rid of some of it. His initial annoyance with Slade had passed rather quickly when he began to play with his new toy. At the very least, the fire demon had an eye for beauty. The young girl managed to last a couple of days before he broke her. It had been an enjoyable couple of days, for him at the very least, but in the end the whole mattress set had to be replaced. He was half tempted to send the demon a bill for the new bed, though he would have to send her something at the very least.

He was not quite sure where the girl would end up. Likely some brothel in South East Asia, or perhaps even India or the Middle East, where white women were seen as exotic rather than the norm. He doubted she would be thankful for still being alive, but then, mortals always took slavery so personally. It was always amusing to watch their reactions to such things. But, just thinking about it brought his mind to the task at hand.

In all his time in Seattle, he had not managed to snag a reliable contact within the legal realm. Which was unusual for him, since lawyers were always so easily bought. He must have been getting lazy in his ‘old age’. That thought amused him even more, but as the problem became known to him, so to do a solution.

It was a pity that Lorenzo had been killed. The vampire had been like a kinsman to him. As often a rival as not, but always respected, Tony knew the bloodsucker had his fingers in every pot imaginable. But, his attention was focused upon his former pet. Pretty little thing, but more importantly, she was a lawyer. And by all accounts, one willing to let her fingers get a little dirty.

As he settled into a seat in the waiting room of the office, Tony let himself smile a little. He planed to enjoy the next couple of minutes at the very least. He wondered if the girl would even remember who he was, it had been so long since he had last seen her.

WHO; ABIGAIL & ANTHONY
WHEN; Tuesday 11th Feb. (evening)
WHERE: The Towers - Anthony's condo
WHAT; Abby responds to ads placed on college noticeboards. This is a bad idea.
RATING; ? M?

She didn't need money. Her Father sent her plenty, every month, but something about that just didn't sit well with her. He paid for her apartment. He paid for her university tuition. He paid her bills, paid for her groceries, her clothes...and there was always a sizable amount left over for entertainment, or incidentals. And that bothered her. It wasn't that she objected to getting a free ride, necessarily. I mean, wasn't that what everyone wanted? It was more that it felt suspiciously like her Father was trying to plug up the emotional holes in their relationship with big fat wads of cash. And that bugged her.

She'd been thinking for awhile about getting a job. Obviously, it would have to be something that wasn't terribly time consuming - she was still studying, and couldn't manage anything full time, or anything too stressful. She didn't want to work in food - what little self respect she had dictated that flipping burgers was not a viable career option. And she didn't want anything that was going to bore her to tears.

She'd been combing the paper, notice boards, online job search sites and so on, for awhile, looking for something fun, easy and well-paid. Something she could do casually, and something where the work wouldn't follow her home. Nothing had really jumped out at her. She'd briefly considered a career as an exotic dancer, and then remembered that she had two left feet, and would probably fall off the podium. Besides, the idea of old men reeking of booze sticking dollars in her thong wasn't exactly appealing. In fact, the mere idea of wearing a thong wasn't particularly appealing.

Then she'd come across it, on her way to one of her classes on Tuesday afternoon. An ad posted on one of the university message boards. Models wanted for a local photographer. She'd been hesitant, initially. After all, 'photographer' usually meant something like 'amateur porn producer', and 'artistic' generally meant 'if we don't see your parts, you're not getting paid'. But she'd actually recognised a few of the sample shots the guy had included in the ad - a few commercial shots that she'd seen whilst leafing through magazines in the doctor's office. Surely that meant he was legit? Besides, the address he gave was one of the condos in her apartment building. She could at least go along, and see what the deal was. If it all went badly, she only had to run down a few floors to the safety of her own apartment.

She still couldn't quite believe she was doing it, when she found herself in front of a highly polished wooden door, several floors above her own apartment's level. She swallowed heavily, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear, tugging awkward at the hem of her white dress. She hadn't exactly dressed up - the outfit was smart casual, maybe...innocent looking. A kid at her highschool had told her, once, that it made her look like a bride of Dracula. She figured that would do, for a striking look.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to the door, and knocked, loudly.