Haunted Roads

Who: Maggie and Bastian
When: Wednesday Night
Where: Barking Spider

Maggie was in the back, up to her elbows in suds as she worked her way through the last of a few odds and ends that needed to be cleaned before the evening could officially be called. A few knives, cutting boards... hand washing them kept her hands busy. Strains of music still made their way back to where she stood, the running water not even cutting off the butchering of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' that was currently going on. Maggie could only smile to that as maybe someone hadn't fully thought through their aspirations to follow in Queens' footsteps just yet. At least they had a passion for the song... even if it was entirely out of key.

And the keyboard they had brought in was just painful.

A towel was picked up and Maggie set to drying the last few items as the music finally came to an end. Open Mic night... you never knew what the proverbial cat was going to drag in and tonight it had been all sorts. Not that Maggie had been around for the whole evening but glad as she was to have the bar holding such nights again she'd had to stop by after her shift at the hospital. After work she had come she had managed to change out of the cheerful bear printed scrubs she wore while working... some how that just never seemed to work when she stepped foot in the bar. Instead she was clad in nothing more fancy then a pair of jeans and a simple scoop necked shirt that skimmed her figure.

It had already been near to closing when she arrived. Maggie had sent Jonathan on his way home assuring him that she could help close the place up and that she wouldn't take no for an answer. She did have her moments of stubbornness. A buss to his cheek and she'd made herself at home behind the bar, greeting regular customers but mostly just setting about tidying up and readying the bar for it's closure.

Hearing the music though... despite all the challenges life had thrown them over the past decade... always brought her back to another time. When she'd first met Bastian. The sound of his fingers working over the strings on the guitar as he worked out the chords that fit the melody in his head perfectly. It had been too long... felt like it had been too long since those days. And that was almost as painful as the reality of their lives now, complicated and uncertain.

But it was that simple thing missing that made it so much more difficult.

Maggie could hear the jingle of the door as the last few patrons begrudgingly made their way out. She hung the towel up and stepped out of the back and behind the bar. "Good night?" She asked, placing her palms flat on the counter behind her. "This place needs music, live music. Makes it..." her eyes closed briefly before opening them and looking over at Bastian. "alive again."

Who Bastian and Hope/Alyssa
When: Monday Night
Where: The Barking Spider
What: Reunion

Nox had found out a lot. Well, perhaps not a lot, but enough to make Hope wander if her instincts that told her to come here had in fact been correct. There was a girl reported missing, daughter of the owner of this Tavern, fifteen, nearly sixteen, years ago. The hair, the eyes, it all seemed to add up, but how had she, as a teenage runaway, or was she perhaps abducted, able to get all the way across the country to New York? That was the one question she could not answer, well, one of many. But it was time to stop delaying it and see if it were possible that she was, in fact, Alyssa Veniamin.

She had been working up the courage to step inside of this bar since the first day she had arrived in Seattle and had yet to do so before now. But one foot was inside the door, and soon the other followed, and without much reluctance, she was crossing the barroom floor to the actual bar itself, situating herself upon a stool as her eyes glanced around the place for anything that might seem vaguely familiar. There was nothing.

A hand moved up to push long strands of dark hair back out of her face as she slipped off her jacket, the same one she had had on the night that she had watched the woman die. The blood stains had come out easily at the dry cleaners though she now lacked the belt that she needed to keep it closed. Eventually she would track down something else that would work, but that had been the last thing on her mind since she had arrived here.

In her well-tailored, dark-wash jeans, and her deep brown sweater and brown boots with a small heel, she looked more than a little out of place in this bar. But she was here on a mission and she hardly noticed though she couldn't say there wasn't at least a small bit of intent there. That last thing she wanted was to garner any unwanted attention from drunken bystanders. She was a beautiful woman, this she knew, and attention generally came easy if she dressed herself up, but she hoped that dressing down would alleviate this.

The bartender made his way down to her but she didn't look up immediately, eyes instead focused upon the beer menu in her hand. "Let me have a Beck's Dark." She looked up as she spoke. Nothing too heavy for her tonight. Things were potentially going to get heavy enough as it was.

When: Night
Where: Barking Spider Tavern
Who: Bastian - Narrative

Eighteen. The little girl he remembered long before she could even talk was now considered an adult. No longer a kid. No longer a child. He’d missed it all. All those important years before this. Bastian wore a smile all through Thursday night. He cheered for her on the stage; pride was evident in his features. But beneath that smile was always that hint of sadness. That harsh reality that was placed before him all too clearly. Sometimes the rage for that reality was all too thick. It choked him as he tried to keep calm. As he tried, tried so hard, to give them reassurance that things would be alright. The problem was that he couldn’t believe that. Not like he wanted to.

Tonight Bastian was at the bar, behind the counter and yet barely even aware of what was going on. He’d spilled two drinks, dropped a bottle, cut himself on the glass. Jokes were made that he didn’t even seem to hear, requests lost in the haze of thoughts. A few had asked if he was alright, the answer of just having an off night seemed to sedate them. Everyone had those now and again right? Waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Bastian wished it was that simple. That tomorrow would wipe all these thoughts away. But nothing did. Everyday it was the same.

That feeling in his gut. That twisted dread that couldn’t be calmed. He could feel her still. That bitch writhing around in his veins, tugging at the blood she’d forced him to take. Was she still outside of the city? He didn’t know…but there was a part of him that didn’t believe so.

Bastian sighed, running a hand back through his hair and taking a shot of whiskey that had been poured for another but now was his. The bite, the burn, wasn’t near enough tonight. Never seemed to be. “Hey…” the guy muttered, Bastian didn’t even give him glance. He just grabbed up another glass, filled it, and slid it across the table top to him. The man gave him an odd glance but took the drink and set his cash down on the table for it. No tip. No surprise.

Most likely wished old John was there instead. But John was at home, passed out in his bed by Bastian’s demand of it. His old man was wearing himself too damned thin. He needed to take care of himself, needed to start watching how much he slept and see to his health. He of course tried to wave Bastian’s worry off but Bastian wasn’t having any of it. On a typical night Bastian could handle the bar just fine on his own. Tonight the extra hands might have been helpful. But he’d deal with it, at least the Saturday was slow so far.

“Hey can we turn this up…” a guy remarked, looking up at the tv in the bar and the flash of the news screen. “Earlier today a woman was viciously attacked by a dog…” Bastian sighed, shaking his head. The full moon was near; stories like these always became more prominent. “No.” Bastian retorted blankly, making the man narrow his eyes once more at him. “Why not?” Bastian didn’t even really give him a reply. Just a shake of his head before he changed the channel all together. The guy huffed and walked out. Good.

When: Night
Where: Towers
Who: Bastian and Sophie

Bastian was not looking forward to this. He didn’t sleep all day or the night before, he sat up knowing that all too soon he’d have to sit down with Sophie and tell her what had happened. What had really happened. He knew he should have done this weeks ago, he should have just bitten the bullet and blurted it out to all of them. But he hadn’t…and the longer time went on the more he began to wonder if just…not telling her was best. He knew it wasn’t though, as living in a lie never made anything better in the end. Living in a lie was never how he wanted things to be between him and his family. But this wasn’t exactly the easiest conversation to have. He wasn’t even sure how to start it up. He’d managed to get through it with Maggie and his father though. One more time…for some reason he didn’t think it was going to be third times the charm for him.

Typically he’d be at the bar by now. He’d be behind the counter handing beers over to eager patrons and keeping his mind busy with endless tasks that never really distracted him as much as he hoped they would. By now he’d be listening to the mumbles of the tv spouting of scores for sports or the weather for next week. By now he’d already be ready for the night to be over with. But instead he was sitting in the living room with a drink in hand and the bottle too far away in the kitchen.

He’d refilled the glass at least five times by now.

A cigarette was between his fingers, the smoke floating up and out the open window just behind him. He always tried to avoid smoking in the house, habit that his ma got him started on long ago. No one wanted to smell that when they first walked into a place. If there was ever any night to let that rule slide a bit though, it was tonight. A drag was taken…soon after another was…. The cigarette burning down, counting the minutes by exhales and inhales. By the clinking of melting ice in his glass, by the slight tick tick tick of the clock on the wall that Bastian didn’t remember.

This entire place felt like that sometimes, like it was nothing but rooms he didn’t remember. So much was made to mimic the house but it was always just a bit off. Just…not the same and he knew it never would be. It made him feel like a stranger…or maybe it was just the place that he was blaming that feeling on. Something to bitterly pick apart rather then that bigger picture of what really made him feel like that. Those obvious reasons that he couldn’t face…those reasons that made him not even want to look in the damned mirror. Running away from them didn’t do anything. Denying them didn’t somehow change it. Bastian was well aware of this…too aware…but sometimes it felt like the only choice out there. Or the easiest at the least.

Easy wasn’t going to keep the rug from being pulled out from under him again. That fact was always apparent in his thoughts. Some flashing fucking sign that followed him constantly. He’d been trying to find those to speak with, others to create some sort of tie to in order to keep his family safe. But what it always boiled down to was that he didn’t know a damned one of them. Anyone could talk kind words and pretend to be a caring bastard and then, at the right moment, would fucking snap their jaws shut around you. The last thing Bastian wanted was to somehow get them into all of this even deeper then they already were.

Faintly Bastian sighed, the sound seeming to echo in the empty place. No one else was home, out for the night leaving Bastian to sit and wait. He’d told Sophie he wanted to talk with her tonight however, he hoped that was enough to get her to come home rather then stay out through the night too. So far he wasn’t certain, night had been around for at least an hour or two now.

The silence was starting to eat at him….gnawing at that calm he was trying to keep. Suddenly in an almost jerky motion he was up to his feet, finding some music to turn on to help to curb that vacant feeling the place seemed to hold tonight.

It didn't help.

Who: Ecks & Bastian
When: Wednesday, late in the evening
Where: The Barking Spider Tavern
What: Nothing to do but drink

The thing about living in your car was that you never want to spend more time in it than necessary. Apartments, no matter how small, were larger than the backseat of your car. You could stand to waste some time in a shoebox of an apartment than a tuna can of a car. Fairly certain of an impending bout of claustrophobia looming in the future, Ecks had taken to driving with the front windows down. Even on night like this, when it was almost could enough to snow, he was the only man on the street with his windows down. At the red light, he considered for a moment to put them halfway up, but his hands never moved to do so. Ecks was on the prowl for somewhere to go, to get out of this can. His options were temporarily limited. The venues were vast in this city but his review was not complete and the direct result was the tank running nearly on 'E'. As soon as he was paid, he would fill it to the brim and blow the rest on cigarette papers, booze, and a bit of food.

He woke up on the wrong side of the seat or something this morning. Ecks had been in a piss-poor mood for most of the day and though he had become something of an introvert in the last few months, today and really just been one of those days. Angry, just plain angry, at everything in life; the car, the job, the money, the city, the guy that looked your way for longer than a second, the pigeon that shit on the windshield, whoever did whatever that landed you in your current situation. Why not be mad at the world today? Wednesdays were good days to tell the whole planet to go blow itself.

The Barking Spider Tavern looked like the perfect place to sit and drink. He was hardly in the mood for actual conversation or contemplation and alcohol did seem to take care of that pretty well. The weather was going to be unforgiving tonight, again, and sleeping in the cold while half off your rocker was not healthy but effective. He parked the car down the alley a bit as there was every intention once he had finished his stay at the tavern that he could stumble right home and sleep it off.

Before he opened the door, he checked his worn leather wallet to see how much he had left. Jackson crept up in front of brightly-colored Post-Its with names and numbers scrawled across them--names of people for stories and reviews. Tonight looked like it was going to be the last night he could spend at the bar for the next few days, until he had managed to crank out at least two decent reviews and make the weary freelance-writer's fee. Thankfully, there was still enough papers and tobacco to last until his next binge. Ecks entered into the tavern through the door slowly enough to absorb a bit of the atmosphere. It seemed like any place that had its regulars and drifters such as he, kept up enough to be clean and pass the health inspections but nothing to put on the cover of the city's highlights magazines. This was perfect; a place where a guy could come and have a drink or two, hassle-free.

Ecks strolled over to the bar and sat a good five seats away from another customer. He unzipped his beaten-up leather jacket, the room a great deal warmer than the interior of the car, and sat with the four layers of shirts snug against his skin that were rotated for warmth and to supposedly keep them clean longer. The note was put back in his wallet, hardly enough for a man of his tolerance to get completely and utterly soused, but he could get licked with it. "Bourbon on the rocks," he gave without emotion in his voice to the figure behind the counter. Elbows were placed comfortably on the edge of the counter; his heels hooked the bottom rung of the stool, and for a short time, his eyes drifted to different areas of the outdated decor.

Things weren’t the same since telling Maggie the truth of what he was. He knew they wouldn’t be. No matter the love, no matter the care, such news would draw anyone away. Creating that distance to try to…come to some sort of understanding. Even his father had taken a step back when the truth really hit him. When that painful undeniable reality was thrown in front of him. Bastian didn’t have it in him to feel anything towards it now. He just accepted and forced himself to continue to move forward. Attempting to take steps in some direction…though he never knew if they were right or wrong. Right now just the fact that he was moving at all, was good enough. Sitting still…dwelling…it didn’t do any of them any good.

Telling Maggie wasn’t the last of it though. It wasn’t as though all that truth was laid bare now. No…he still needed to tell Sophie. He knew that wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. He was prepared for scoffs and doubts. But he had to do it. One more time speaking what he hated to speak. One more time having to face that disbelief. It wasn’t all that he should speak likely, but the past was something he did not want to dig up. Not anymore then he had to at least. Wasn’t knowing that it was bad enough? The details…no one really needed to know that.

“It’s good to see you again Bas!” another shouted as they came into the bar, giving a grand wave and a bright smile. Bastian smiled back, appearing all put together and happy to be there. But though this place had always been home to him…it was now a reminder of the night everything had gone wrong too. All too often he found himself staring across the way on where it was he’d been thrown. Where he knew his blood had been spilt against the worn floorboards. At times he was certain he could still smell it…even if he knew that wasn’t the case. Too many years had passed for that. Far too many years.

Bastian sighed, trying to focus himself back on the task at hand. He was trying to get some of the work caught up for his old man. Really it was nothing more then distraction, the work could wait as it had been waiting for some time now. But Bastian needed something to try to keep his mind off of everything going on. He just…needed a damned break from it. It was too much to have on his thoughts constantly.

Distractions never worked for long though. An hour or so taking stock and serving drinks…and back his thoughts began to drift. There was so much he still had to do. So much that he had to try to figure out. He knew time wasn’t on his side in this. Meetings were set up for next week, none of it sat right with him but what else was he supposed to do? Keep thinking he could manage this on his own? He knew that he couldn’t. He knew that if she showed again he stood no damned chance against her. She’d made that clear often enough in the time he’d been with her.

“Heya Bas!” another regular to shout his name and give a smile. Thankfully not many had asked where he was, maybe after being gone that long it was an obvious that nothing good had kept him away from here. The few that did question accepted the answer of “he was just glad to be back” as answer enough.

Details…Bastian hated the details. He wanted to fucking forget the details.

“Been gone so long you forget how to pour the drinks?” One of the guys joked, Bastian cursing as the beer overflowed the glass. “Fuck, apparently….” He needed to get his head together. Wiping up the drink he handed it over to the eager patron and set to cleaning up the mess. This night was going to be too long….or not near long enough. Bastian wasn’t sure yet.

Who: Maggie and Bastian
When: Wednesday Evening
Where: Maggie's Apartment

It had been the longest two days of her life. A path had been worn through in the carpet of the bedroom. More than a few cups of tea had been left to go cold. Dinner had not been prepared at all let alone with the usual care that Maggie put into her meals. But mostly, her worry showed in the deep lines that were worked into her pale skin. Her nails were bit down, in a habit that she thought she had given up as a girl. Maggie had tried to not let it show though, she didn't want Sophie worrying more than she probably already was. It was a parents job to lessen the worries of a child, no matter their age...

Maggie certainly felt as though she hadn't been accomplishing that job as of late. Far from it.

It didn't matter that Bastian had called the night before to let them know that he was alright, that he hadn't been taken by those that had taken him before. It had only lessened what she felt for a moment. A brief reprieve that he was still alive, but that didn't cover the fact that she knew the reason that he was still gone. The reason had been her...

Maggie glanced up at the clock again, for the hundredth time that evening. Where was he? Was he coming back? She just wanted to talk with him and explain it all to him. Not that it would change the fact that Daren existed, that her relationship with him had... but it was a more complex situation than that and Maggie needed to explain it. What she could.

She'd followed John's advice. Ended it, as she had always planned to but had been unable to do before the damage had already been done. But that only clearly illustrated the problem with not telling the entire truth. And she hated herself for not following her better judgment and saying it all to begin with. But there was nothing to be done for that now. Just waiting... waiting for him to come back and to try and rectify the situation.

As long as he was alright. She could live with whatever else happened. He'd said he was... but she just needed to see him to know that was the truth.

Night time. The days had become a bane to Bastian for more reason then just the inability to stand the light. Each day meant that he'd have to lie. Each day meant Maggie would worry for the fact that he didn’t seem willing to get out of bed. Each day was another excuse, a pathetic attempt to deny having to speak the truth as to why he couldn't join them for breakfast in that well lit dinning area. His father helped in the excuses now and that only made Bastian feel that much worse. The old man...he wasn't even willing to believe it until he saw what the light could do to him. Of course he'd apologized for not believing, for making it go to such extremes to prove it. But Bastian had seemed unphased by that slight pain...maybe that more then anything was why his father had apologized so greatly. A reality more then just what he was beginning to sink in.

He knew he had to tell them. He planned to. With his old man on his side he thought maybe, just maybe, it would be easier to take. No matter how it was done it wouldn't be an east conversation. If he could go the rest of their lives never speaking it he would. He didn't want to see the way they'd look at him. He didn't want them to realize what he really was now. But he had to tell them. He couldn't hide forever. Tonight wasn't the night for it though. There was too much going on, everyone separated. Tonight he and the old man would be running the bar. A start to a week where Bastian was damned determined to keep the place open everyday.

With the fall of night Bastian met up with his father and headed to the Barking Spider. At the least that place hadn't changed. But the place wasn't quite as John had left it the night before. No as they pulled up Bastian saw the flowers left. Flowers that the old man tried to jump out of the car first to get to. The fact that he did made Bastian react even quicker. Getting to them before the old man could grab them up and toss them out. "What's the deal?" Bastian questioned, making a face at his father as he grabbed the keys from his pocket, opening the place up and flicking on the lights.

"Nothing, sure they are just for Sophie or something. Giv'em here and I'll get them in some water." Bastian arched a brow at his dad "Who's Sophie getting flowers from?" he questioned, grabbing the card and handing the flowers to his pops like the man asked. He could hear his heart rate pick up. Could hear that subtle sigh. It wasn't a reaction made if it all meant nothing. Bastian opened up the card, reading it....once...twice...and again.

( Who’s Daren dad? )

When: Late Night
Where: Old Town Towers
Who: Bastian and John – Narrative

One week. One week since he'd walked through that front door and back into their lives. One week of avoiding and lame excuses that he knew were wearing thin. One week of constantly debating when he should tell them..and how to tell them. One week of sneaking out late at night after helping at the bar to feed and try to find connections and information without pushing the wrong people. One week....and Bastian was exhausted by it. He wasn't the sort of man that lied to his family. He was always upfront, before it felt like they could handle anything together. But there were limits to everything and Bastian knew that telling them this...would push it.

Through the day he'd hid away in the bedroom, feigning sleep through those bright hours. Yet never was he, always was he awake, laying there, ensuring that those times Maggie came in she didn't go for the blinds or manage to let any light in. The same words spoken to Sophie long ago had been spoken to her...sensitivity to that light after so long in the dark. But the more he said it, the more that questioning showed in the eyes. Can't get used to it again if you don't try right? There was no getting used to it again.

The moment the light was gone there was relief to a degree...and at the same time only mounting frustration. He was still young, no matter the years that had passed that hunger still pulled at the mind all too often. Bastian ignored it as best he could....but it distracted him. It made his temper shorter, it made the body tense and strain show all too clearly to his features. He was certain that they thought him sick but given what he'd been through it wouldn't be any surprise would it? If anything it gave him another cover to hide behind for awhile.

Through the hours he moved. Picking at food cooked for dinner, spending time with them as much as he could. But tonight he'd escaped to his fathers for awhile. Sometimes...he just needed the breather. That moment to get away from that feeling of hiding from them in plain sight. He had...wanted to come back and have everything be the same. But it wasn't.....he wasn't.

“Looks like you got the weight of the world sitting right on your shoulders boy…” John spoke, patting Bastian on the back before taking a seat down next to him. A cigarette was offered over and Bastian took it with a nod of thanks. The old man always had some around even if he didn’t smoke anymore. Maybe preparation for when Bastian came home…maybe just as a reminder. Whatever the case Bastian wasn’t going to complain. “Got a drink to go with that cigarette?” he questioned, glancing over at the old man who just smirked and got up to his feet. “Sure thing kid.”

A moment later a glass of whiskey was placed down on the table in front of Bastian and his father took seat again, just waiting. He knew Bastian well enough to know when he had something he needed to get off his chest. It was just a waiting game at that point, letting Bastian try to get his thoughts together enough to say something. To find that…beginning point to start it all at.

“Have you ever noticed anything…strange around here? Stuff you couldn’t really explain?” Bastian questioned finally, lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag from it. “What you mean boy? There are strange people all over the place; I do run a bar you know.” Bastian nodded his head slightly, exhaling out that smoke. “Yeah…I know.” But that wasn’t the sort of strange he was talking about. “I mean beyond that sort of strange though.” John looked at him a bit oddly and Bastian shook his head. He knew this wasn’t going how he wanted it to. He wasn’t sure if any attempt to bring this up would though.

He debated just telling them all at once. But maybe if he convinced one of them before hand…it would be easier to tell the others. Telling his father…he didn’t know if it would be easier then telling Maggie and Sophie but it was a place to start. Maybe if he could accept it he’d be able to look the other two in the eyes as he told them. Maybe then he’d be able to look at his own fucking reflection again.

Bastian was silent for a moment; downing the contents of the glass and setting it roughly back down. “If I told you something do you promise to hear me out, hear it all, before saying anything?” that’s when John knew it was something painfully serious. “Of course boy, you can tell me anything.”

“Alright…” here went nothing; time to test the limits of that you can tell me anything…

When: Early Night
Where: Old Town Towers
Who: Bastian, Maggie, Sophie

Somehow he had convinced Sophie that they should wait a night in going to the Towers. It hadn't been easy, no words really were explanation enough, but he had to make it work. It was better that then face them with such a cruel truth so shortly after he arrived in their home. Theirs....not his...such thoughts made him so heavy hearted. Everything had changed....he came back hoping it would be the same but he should have known. The world kept turning, everyone had to keep living....he had just never thought that things would go this way for all of them. He had wanted to give them all so much better...

Before daylight came Bastian was up, shutting every blind, making sure that not an inch of light could get in...he could have gone back to sleep then but instead he stayed awake. He sat there...watching his little girl sleep from the couch that he'd taken up as his bed for the night. He was afraid if he closed his eyes for too long she'd be gone. It was a foolish thought but there it remained all the same.

She was so much different now. He could so plainly see how the passing years had affected her. A tough women who no longer was a little girl at all. he wondered all through the night if Maggie had so much of the life he'd missed captured somehow. Of course Maggie would...but would he be able to look at it? To face completely just how much he had missed? Nothing could make up for those lost years...and nothing would make up for it if he was gone for so much more.

He told Sophie he had no want to leave again...but that tug at the back of his mind reminded him every second that she was out there and less then happy with him. His sire. The bitch.

Bastian pretended to be asleep when Sophie woke for school. It was difficult to let her leave at all but he had...and while she was gone he took that time to rest. Unfortunately for him she was back before night fell, leaving no chance for him to go out and try to feed. He was paler today then yesterday but Bastian dismissed the comment of it away, saying only that it was caused by a bad nights rest. That was all.

But again he had to stall; he hated the lies…the pathetic attempts of explanation that likely made no sense. He could only come up with so many reasons…but through them all he knew that she knew something was up. She was smart, too smart for all his attempts.

Still she let him wait till nightfall. Content it seemed, to simply be around him.

Finally the time came and Bastian got to his feet. He was nervous there was no denying that. Nervous…fearful….and half tempted to try to convince Sophie that they should meet somewhere else. But he knew that any that were after him would know long ago where both all his family lived. His showing there or not, wouldn’t change that.
So he took them outside, he turned in his key to the hotel as he could never stay at any for long…and used that stolen car to drive them to the towers. There he parked in the back; the car wouldn’t be used again. He couldn’t push his luck for too long.

Once parked it was up to Sophie to lead the way, pulling him along through the unfamiliar halls.

Who: Sophie and Bas
Where: Studio7
When: Sometime between 9:30 and 10:30
What: Ummm... Hi Daddy!

The Stepford Wives. First night at Studio Seven, though not their first night anywhere. This was, by far, their biggest gig yet, even if Studio Seven specialized in local acts. Still, how they did here would make all the difference in theith immediate futures. It was a foot in the door kind of venue and whether you did well here or sucked, it would enfluence whether others hired you. Not to mention the exposure was the absolute best they could hope to have at this juncture.

Like their audience and even the club employees, most of The Stepford wives had something in their system. But they weren’t complete idiots and none wanted to be wasted tonight. At least not yet. After the show would be a great time for that. They’d all done a few lines, shared an eight ball just before they took the stage. Gave them great energy, though Sophie had balance it, took a little of the edge off, by smoking a bowl. She wanted energy, not anxiety.

Needless to say, she was beyond happy with her feeling, and just as happy with the sound of their set. Even better, the feedback they were getting from the audience. That was a greater high then any of the other shit any of them put in their bodies.

The set began with an intense energy with Burn ‘em Down and continued when Sophie took ver the lead vocals on the lewd Cumming into My Own. With the audience reeling she carried them straight into a caustic cover of the Distillers’ Hate Me. Finally, after Psycho Bitches out of Hell Sophie relinquished the vocals once more to concentrate her energy on guitar, and a nice glass of water. That Distillers song was hell on her throat.

God this was fun. Too bad Maggie would never appreciate it the way Sophie did. Not to mention she really would freak on some of the shit coming out of her little girl’s mouth.

When: Night
Where: Belltown Billiards
Who: Bastian and open

It was late yet outside the bar the streets were still thriving with life. Couples walked hand in hand, enjoying what remained of their Valentines Day night. Bastian had always thought the holiday was fake and never was the sort to get into a big hype about it…tonight though it seemed to ride his last nerve. Stinging just a bit more then he wanted to think about…striking that wound that hadn’t healed in nearly eight years. Salt upon it…

Again and again he’d checked with the message service for the Eight Avenue Inn. Bastian left the address there at the bar, but with his sire likely not far behind in the shadows Bastian wasn’t fool enough to actually be staying there. No…but there they knew to take messages for him should anyone call or show asking about him. Just messages, they had no return phone number or address to give anyone. But there were no messages waiting. Bastian’s guess was that the flowers had been snatched up by someone looking to score a free gift. Wouldn’t surprise him. But part of him had to wonder.

Where they still there? Did she see them? Multiple times he’d lingered at the bar only for it to remain dark and closed all day. He’d asked people walking by if they knew when or if it opened…no one had a clue. The small bar was still just a background sight to many. But for Bastian it was home…a home that he did not even know if anyone lived in anymore.

Tonight had been much the same…lingering there at the bars steps after sun down, waiting. Valentines Day night was always a busy night, those alone wanting to drink that feeling away. But hours slipped by and no one showed. No one really approached, no keys were heard ready to open the doors. Nothing. Just that cold silence that made Bastian’s chest ache.

The night slipped on…and finally Bastian drew himself to his feet to wander away from that bar. He became one of the many seeking solace in the drink. But he didn’t have the cash to really drown his sorrows. What little he had came from odd jobs in his travels. Painting, construction, whatever really that would only keep him tied up for a day or two and get some cash in his pockets before he hit the road again. The funds were running low; he had to get to working again soon.

But he wasn’t ready to settle into some routine. If they weren’t here Bastian couldn’t stay. The memories would be too fresh…and his sire wouldn’t stay gone forever. No she knew she’d come here. He knew, in truth, that he shouldn’t be here at all. He was putting them at risk if they were alive, if they were well…

Staying away though…it just wasn’t an option. No matter what it was he came to find out here he had to know. He just…had to.

Now Bastian sat to the back of the billiards ignoring everyone and everything around him. The place wasn’t very busy but still there was the faint clack to the air that signaled people playing pool. Bastian scarcely noticed. His eyes were downward, staring into the liquor in a glass that wasn’t near big enough for how much whisky he needed right now.

At least the bartender had finally caved and left the bottle to the table with him, after so many trips over to the table be began to get the hint that Bastian wasn’t looking to remember this night. Too bad the whisky wouldn’t be enough to give Bastian that much. It wasn’t allowed to be that easy to forget.

Seattle. How long had it been since he'd walked these streets? They were familiar and foreign to him now. Dark alleys that he once had known too well now lit up by new building lights. Each step was tentative as he moved, as though he were waiting for the next one to send him falling and spiraling back to where he'd been. He wasn't even sure how he had made it this far. Running, hiding, she knew where he was going to head. It was only a matter of time before she'd be walking right next to him with a smirk on her lips and a pat to his head like a puppy. Yes he knew he was running on a short time schedule....but he didn't care.

He had to get back. He had to know.... For so many years it was hinted they were dead and gone. So many times dangled in his face that he had nothing to go back to now. He had refused to believe it, unwilling to ever accept it....but he didn't know what he was coming back to. Even as he'd raced here he wasn't sure what to expect. It had been years now...did he think if they were alive they were waiting for him? Yes part of him had hoped for just that...and another part had hoped for the opposite. Did he really want them sitting around not moving forward because of him?

Could he take it if they had moved on?

So many questions shoved aside as he walked the streets. The cold had so many huddling indoors and yet Bastian didn't blink an eye. A tattered leather jacket was all that kept him from the cold. The same one from all those years ago, it had seen better days. But so had Bastian. Eyes looked hollow, dark circles lay under the eyes and his once fit form now was worn thin. He needed to feed, he could feel the need at the back of his thoughts slowly trying to push its way forward. Or was that her?

He kept walking.

One step, another, he knew where he was going. Back to the bar, they had to be at the bar. Back to where all this began. Back to where it had all gone bad. Back to where the bitch decided to strip his life away. Back to where he used to work, where he used to sing, where he used to smile.

( Back....to closed doors? )