Salvatrix (saviourtonone) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-10-24 02:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-08-24, barnabas, salvatrix |
Let's smoke a bible
Who: Barnabas & Salvatrix
Where: The park
When: Late morning
It rather said a lot that when Salvatrix was informed her slave was dead her reaction was to blink, then: "Sorry, who?" She felt it, of course, when the little idiot Lex brought her finally decided that life in Ad Gustum under her rule simply wasn't a life she wanted to continue. When she actually devoted all of three seconds to thinking about it, she'd known that the meatsack hadn't even needed to put to use whichever method of ending her life she had decided upon. The light behind her eyes had simply switched off the moment she went to lay her hands on it with enough conviction. Which was why she did not ask for the details. She knew why. The how was perplexing nobody but the person who found her. Well, and whoever they told. 'Found dead at the scene of their own intended suicide. Didn't quite get around to it.' As an advocate, she had to laugh, really. It was a small additional reaction that seemed to unnerve the member of staff sent to inform her that her most recent perishable had done exactly what it said on the label, but it was an expression that suited him. Now, what they expected her to do about it, she wasn't certain. Salvatrix was the Ad Gustum Slave Manager, yes, but last she checked that little whelp had been hers and not a legitimate member of the establishment. Just another body to dispose of. So she could go into the incinerator or wherever the dead went with the one that died last night because his owner clearly took the special bus to cretin camp.
On that note, she was washing her hands of the place for the day. It was doubtful that surprised anybody whatsoever. She made no secret of the fact she owned other property while making nearly full use of the rooms that came with her job, but if they really needed her they knew how to use a phone. After a quick change and lifting someone's umbrella from... somewhere, Salvatrix was at least 90% perfectly acceptable to be seen around humans. The remaining 10% was down to the slit up the back of her skirt and the fact it occasionally offered glimmers of her tail. Depending on what the wretched thing was trying to do. That aside, she was quite content going to get a coffee from the nearest café - that she could have easily gotten from Ad Gustum, but was feeling contrary - when she felt an all too familiar tugging. For once, it wasn't coming from her place of work. Abandoning thoughts of coffee, she moved towards the park, crossing in front of cars without looking or caring if they hit her. All a car accident at that pathetic speed would result in would be her healing herself and then cursing the driver into oblivion for ruining her clothes. No, the park held her interest far too tightly. Vampire hunting grounds generally did when she found herself walking towards them rather determinedly, dismissing the rain and anything it might risk doing to her shoes. The desperate she caught in places like that were usually the leftovers from dinner or practically asking to die, and the trick was to get there before they kicked it one way or the other. Or worse: before some charitable soul actually helped.
And she did hate it when the latter seemed to have happened. Standing on the paving, because she'd be twice blessed if she just walked across the muddy grass for a desperate soul that wasn't there, Salvatrix's jaw set. She did not like to be disappointed.