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Final Approach
Topic Started: Jun 18 2014, 08:50 AM (402 Views)
Kaz
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Casey Grey
"Can you hear that?"

Captain Martin pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired of the worrying of his ride-along. He was tired of it seven hours ago when this flight started. "Let me guess," he growled. "You heard some rattling on the wings? Some hissing by the window?" Turning in his seat, the pilot looked to the young flight student, gesturing to the controls in front of him. "Is the electric buzz from my altimeter just a little too loud for your precious little nerves?"

The student named Gregory pursed his lips in a small pout at the ridicule. Was it so wrong to want to be certain that the airplane-a metal tube with a couple of turbines suspended over 30,000 feet in the air-was as safe as could be? He was going to be flying one of these things soon after all.

"Could you just lay off the kid, Martin," the co-pilot murmured, not bothering to even take off his eye-mask or even rustle the pilots jacket draped over his slouched body. "I'm having a hard enough time sleeping my shift in silence."

"Silence? Please tell me, what silence is there, First Officer Chaplain," the Captain asked sardonically, righting himself back into the pilots seat. "Because apparently, this airliner is just rattling right off of its own frame!" Groaning, Martin reached for his coffee, the only friend he could find on the flight. "Of course, I can't even enjoy the rattling over the bleating of our little fledgling aviator back here."

Said young aviator in the jump seat of the flight deck, who was named George but neither pilot nor co-pilot seemed to care to remember, was unwilling to let this one slide. "You can't be serious? You have to hear--"

"What, boy, what, precisely, do I just have to hear?"

"That singing."

"Singing?" Chaplain repeated, not certain he had heard the young man right.

"So some X Factor reject is feeling a little bored back there," Martin reasoned. "I can't say I blame the poor bloke. Some trolley dolly will shut him up."

"It's not from the aircraft cabin," George retorted, too insecure in his experience to use anything but the textbook terminology. "It's coming... From... Below."

There was a silence in the cockpit. Against his better judgement, Chaplain, mask still firmly in place, found his ear slowly pointing downwards in curiosity.

Martin, however, was not so eager to entertain the notion. "Lad," he sighed, pausing to sip on his bitter brew. "Let me take you through this nice and slow: we are in the flight deck of a single deck plane. There is nothing below us except for the landing gear, which has no pressurized atmosphere, okay? There is no air down there. Now last I checked, a bloke needed some that to sing, right?"

"Actually," the co-pilot said, ear still pointed downward. "I can almost hear something, too."

"Oh, no," Captain Martin objected. "Don't you dare entertain this!" He set down his almost empty mug fearing he would spill it with his ranting. "Look, we are literally minutes from Detroit. Do you seriously expect that someone sat on a tire down there with temperature forty below zero and just now started feel the need to serenade us after seven hours of flight?"

"Well," George said, losing ground. "It might not be a person. It might be a radio or something."

"Which just now turned on? By itself? After seven hours of flight?" Martin argued. "I mean, what do you two want me to do? Eh? Pull over and check? Look, here's what we'll do. We'll land in Detroit-on schedule, just the way we were going to anyways-the maintenance crew will take a peek under the skirt, they will find nothing and you two will feel like a couple of over-imaginative idiots. Deal?"

With a sigh, the First Officer rolled in his chair, facing away from the bickering and re-positioning his coat back over him. "Deal," he said, not willing to hear Martin's shouting anymore. Besides, he was too tired to be really curious. He just wanted to land and find some nice bed to pass out in. They were almost there... Almost landed...

***

The Detroit Metro Airport may have lulled slightly in the dark hours, but it never truly slept, just like the city that surrounded it. The nonstop flight from British Airways, wheels down and ready, performed a landing flare before touching down onto the runway. With a roar, the jet engines started firing reverse thrust, as spoilers sprung from the wings to slow the planes high velocity before taxiing to the terminal.

As it was slowing, however, a small figure slipped from the well of the front landing gear. It fell to the pavement before rebounding off hard and rolling across the asphalt as the flying behemoth roared overhead, overtaking the tumbling form down the runway. In seconds, the plane had passed by and was well on its way to unload the rest of its passengers, while its first had finally managed to stop rolling.

For a moment, it was silent and still. And then sang, "Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away~!" He held the last note before losing it to his own laughter. He couldn't help himself. One of his least pleasant, but most beneficial plans had been a complete success, and he felt excitement rushing through his sore, beaten limbs. Casey Grey had made it to Detroit, traveling over three thousand miles in mere hours.

With a groan, Casey lifted his battered, bruised, but smiling body off the tarmac, lifting his dufflebag up with him. "Well," he said to nobody in particular. "Better get out of here before the FAA gives me a cavity search." And with that joke that no one laughed at, he bolted towards the chain link fence barring the airport from the city of his destination, lined on top with viciously barbed wire. But such a fence wouldn't even slow him down. It certainly didn't at London International, and right now, he really wanted to go for a walk in a particular park.

***

"Well, that's a relief," Kaz sighed, placing the letter addressed to Nora back into the lockbox with his other more delicate sundries and stowing it into his dufflebag, which he zipped up tight. Not a single wrinkle or crease, having been well protected despite his freezing ride and graceless dismount. His clothes, however, had not faired so well, being covered in grease from the landing gear and blood from his own body, as well as countless rips and tears from hitting the runway hard. Still, it was no great loss. Kaz had the good sense to store away his leather jacket in his bag, which he now wore with a new, clean outfit underneath. He slung the bag over his back and pushed out of the bathroom stall he had ducked into to check Vry's letter and, after a quick habitual wash of the hands, exited the small public restroom.

The young man left the small brick building and stepped out into the park, visited by the downtown Detroit skyline, complete with unfinished buildings, smog, and light pollution so thick not even a single star was visible to human eyes. "What a fucking hellhole," Kaz observed cheerfully. In spite of the setting, nothing would be able to get him down. After managing to smuggle himself across between two countries with some of the most strict and observant air traffic security, and completely dodging any sort of questions from a customs official, the young stow away was riding on a victorious high. He knew, logically, he never should of risked it, but when he saw that flight, it seemed like destiny. Directly to Detroit, non-stop, and timed up so nicely with the time zones that the night would still be young when he arrived? It almost seemed like fate. It would have been rude not to sneak aboard that flight.

And here he was, in the very park that his grandsire had shown him on the map a mere few days ago in London. The very park where he was promised to be able to find his sire, Nora. And then... What, exactly? Deliver the letter, of course, but then... The two of them would have to play it by ear and decide it together.

Kaz looked left. Then right. Then straight ahead.

He then realized that he had no fucking idea where to go.

Sure, Vry had said that Nora frequented this park, but how often? Was there a schedule, did she take a certain route? Kaz had been so excited to run off to Detroit, he hadn't bothered to ask these questions before this very moment. Stupid move again, Kaz, he berated himself. What the hell was he going to do now? I bet Nora would know where to start, he groused silently. She probably has a bit more experience than me at this kind of stuff. Unfortunately, it's me looking for her and not the other way around.

For about five minutes, Kaz stood there, wind whipping the jacket around his waist and rustling his long hair while he brainstormed. Unfortunately, all he could think of was what was making that hissing noise.

Curiously, Kaz turned around and began to circle the public restroom that he had just exited from. He turned the corner and found the culprit. A hood rat in his late teens, hoodie draped over his head, spray can in hand, marking the brick wall with his own vandalistic free expression. The urban youth was so enraptured in his own "art," that he had not even recognized the blonde anglo standing just a few feet from him.

Kaz eyed in on the gangster, feeling the familiar thirst well up in his throat. A thug like him wouldn't taste so good, but was all but didn't inspire Kaz' moral outrage as much as other prey. Still, it was just a kid, and Kaz found himself feeling some pity for the ghetto artist, and tried to suppress his hunger, distracting himself by reading the tag the youth had sprayed all over the wall.

"...D-Live?" He questioned out-loud, deciphering the heavily stylized letters. With a gasp, the gangster, who Kaz could only assume was indeed 'D-Live' dropped the aerosol can to the ground and rounded about to face him. Kaz smiled, the Beast in him relishing in the fear that radiated off the boy. Kaz almost wanted to dive into his neck and began feeding, but he refrained from it. Feeding would be his choice, not his instinct. Instead, he indulged the snide part of him, which was almost as satisfying. With a smirk, he continued: "That is a god-awful pen name. Did you run that by your friends before spraying that all over this wall?"

"Fuck you!" the youth spat, rationalizing his fear with contempt. Regardless, he span on his pristine white sneakers and ran from Kaz, yelling as he went. "This whole damn city's gonna know my name!"

Kaz licked his incisors; seeing the kid run from him made him feel predatory. He wanted to give chase, wanted to run him down and sink his fangs into his throat. But charity won out, and again Kaz buried his hunger under jeers. "I'm certain anyone who visits this shit-house will be very impressed," he yelled after the boy, just as he left ear-shot.

The Kindred smiled to himself. Maybe Detroit wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be. At the very least, it seemed entertaining enough.

Then, like a bolt of lightning though his spine, something the graffitist said returned to him with all new meaning. "This whole damn city's gonna know my name," Kaz repeated quietly, a small smile appearing on his face.

Inspired, he scanned the grass at his feet, searching for the discarded paint can. Spotting it crushing a dandelion, he took it in hand, shaking it back and forth, filling the night air with its light clicking as he approached the brick walls of the restroom. Finger on nozzle, he took aim at the surface, and with nine quick movements, stepped back to appreciate it. There, in big black letters, lightly illuminated by a flickering lamppost overhead, stood a three-foot tall "KAZ", the smell of paint still lingering around the air.

"Maybe," Kaz said aloud, too excited to simply think it. "Maybe I can get Nora to start looking for me."

Again shaking the can, the fledgling turned and observed the park all around him. He wasn't satisfied with one measly sign, of course. There were hours of night left, and he had work to do.

***

Morning came, and Kaz had melded into the ground, resting beneath the grass and letting the day pass over his head in a death-like slumber. It was a rest well earned. Every vertical surface, and spread across walkways winding through the park, reaching from edge to edge of the public garden, Kaz had spent the night plastering his wall over every surface that would hold his paint. Hours he had spent, preparing, and making certain, than every person who entered would be unable to leave without seeing his nickname at least once. And yet, the beauty, was that none but Nora or those close to her would have any comprehension of what it meant.

After he was finished, Casey Grey felt satisfied with his work. And after hunting for a quick, light snack before daybreak, settled down to wait the day out. Come nightfall, he would rise and patrol the park, waiting for his sire. If Nora did not arrive, he would try the next day. If his signs were covered, he would repaint them. He would wait as long as he had to. He felt certain that Nora would find one of his signs. He felt certain that she would be able to find them. And then... Again, he wasn't certain.

Once again, he'd leave it up to Fate to decide.
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
Injuries sustained after a gravy train gone wrong had left our favorite twacked out viper out of commission for two days, sun up to sun down. It wasn't like she couldn't have risen, she just didn't want to. To say that she was exhausted would be an understatement these days. Junkies were easy pickings, but trusting her sense of smell and broken word of mouth had only gotten her so far. The ground was warm, damp with fresh rain, and smelled better than any other soil she'd ever come in contact with in the States this far in her short life. Of course, not much compared to the desert and dry, solid mud and sand. Maybe it was the close proximity to water that made the grass, where you could find it in this urban sprawl of a city, so much greener or softer beneath her.

Having played the nomad more than once, it wasn't hard to just wander into this here park and pick a tree that looked comfortable enough to hang out in when she didn't have anything better to do, like fight with her 'mate' or going hunting for old ass vampires that ate vampires like her for fuckin' supper. It'd been an eventful first couple of weeks in the northern midwest to say the least. All the humidity and heat was new to her, but for some reason, she found comfort in it's sweltering conditions. She always was cold-blooded, even in her mortal days. Might as well have fuckin' ice water running through her dead veins.

Nora emerged from the ground, stretching and brushing loose dirt off her clothes as she found her footing in the pillowy grass beneath her sneakers and letting out an unnecessary yawn. She sucked in one deep breath- What the fuck?

No way.

How in the fucking shit?

Could it really...?

She took another sharp inhale of the balmy summer night air and exhaled, practically tasting her Childe on her lips. He was here, and he was close. That much she could be certain of. The smell of him was something she hadn't realized she'd missed until it overwhelmed her senses and practically smacked her in the face. Where in the hell was he? How did he get here? ...Was it really him?

Turning on her heel and hiking back to the main trail from the small pond she'd been frequenting the last couple of nights, is when all her suspicions were confirmed. In bright neon spray paint, 'KAZ' was tagged all over the goddamn park. Benches, asphalt, walls, and playground equipment, everywhere. The longer she walked, the more she saw. How could she have not known her childe, the one she'd been stressing so much about internally, the one she feared she'd never see again because of her own indiscretions, was right above her? He definitely knew how to make his presence known, yet, it wasn't like he was dancing in a banana suit to his own beat either.

She was in over her head trying to focus, feeling a pang of hunger jut through her gut and rouse her sleep addled Beast, and not entirely sure where the fuck to start or stop, because she could smell him everywhere. The kid made a fuckin' mine field out of his own smell. Who the fuck did that?

It seemed there was no other choice but to walk and trust her tired nose. It wasn't like she had a portable bat signal in her pocket.
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Kaz
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Casey Grey
"...Scar tissue that I wish you saw~ Sarcastic Mr. Know-It-All~" Casey sang out, drawing out the phrases and letting the slightest hint of his southern accent slip out. The young man may have been raised in the city, but he was practically born in the bayou of South Florida. And despite his travels around the world, some mannerisms were too well learned to just forget.

Especially when as relaxed as Kaz was. While he normally made it a point to speak a neutral American dialect, his voice would drawl when relaxed. Time was, only when he was drunk would someone be able to hear his southern twang, but such things were beyond him. Now, however, filled with a couple of pints of blood from some asshole carjacker, his Beast temporarily sedated and quiet, and him sitting on a bench, alone, feet kicked out and singing like he didn't care who heard, he was about as relaxed as he ever could be.

Continuing to let his mouth croon without his attention, he turned his thoughts to the future. To the twists and turns his life may take once he had reunited with Nora. In his travels, he had caught glimpses of the kind of work that was required just to be able to set down roots and live in a city in secret and safety. And Kaz was planning on setting down roots. He supposed he'd have to put his shoulder to the wheel as well, but what exactly would he have to do? What could he do? For the moment, he simply shook the thoughts from his head, leaving the questions for Nora to answer at her discretion.

Nora. There was a scenario worth thinking over. He had been gone for months, with only a few postcards to Nora assuring he was alive. Even then, Kaz had omitted some of the more... Harrowing parts of his journey. Nora had enough on her plate to worry about as Baron of the Anarchs. She didn't need to worry about the trouble her little blonde childe was getting up to half a world away. Perhaps someday, he'd let her know all about his experiences around the world, of the darker parts of the world that seemed drawn to him now that he knew they were out there. But that would be later. For now, he was just wondering how he could possibly say 'hi.'

His lips continued to sing; "... Blood loss in a bathroom stall~ Southern girl with a scarlet drawl~"

What could he possibly say to his sire? He considered carefully what he should say. He felt that he had to be sincere, at least, in letting her know that he was back to repay the debt he owed her. Phrase after phrase he considered, revised, and discarded altogether. Months, he had been gone. And then suddenly he appears without any warning in a city they weren't going to meet? No words seemed right in his mind, even as his tongue continued to shape out the melody.

"With the birds I'll share this lonely v--" Kaz' head snapped to his right, his mouth shutting tight. There was the scent he recognized. There was the face he recognized.

The ravenette with vibrant streaks was there, multicolored eyes trained directly into his own. At her gaze, every thought in Casey's head evaporated. Weeks ago, even seconds ago, this meeting was a vague dream with no beginning and no end, but reality suddenly came crashing down, robbing the Kindred of his tongue. At a loss for words, he pushed himself off the bench and strode over to her a little too excitedly, but slowed down halfway, and coming to a complete stop about eight feet from her. There he tried to decipher her face, but whether she inherited her enigmatic face from her sire, or Kaz' own eagerness clouded his judgement he couldn't quite say.

He had to speak to her. He had to break the silence; to assure her, to bolster her, to console her. Anything. And yet every time he opened his mouth, words turned to dust as he spoke them. After all this time, his sire still had the power to astound him with her very presence, more than anyone else he had met on this Earth. The same went for her ability to unnerve him. Others had threatened his body, but Nora alone had dominion over his soul.

Surrendering to his loss, Kaz slumped a little where he stood. The silence held for a few moments more, before he rose his head, meeting her eyes and giving her an almost apologetic smile and an uncertain shrug. He then gave up, and let his tongue say the first thing that came to his mind.

"Stray pup, looking for good home."
Edited by Kaz, Jun 20 2014, 05:26 AM.
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
She stopped long before she should have. In all honesty, she wasn't prepared to find him so quickly. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to say and do, but the paranoia of this entire situation unsettled her. Was it really him? It looked like her childe, and walked and talked like him too, but any vampire with obfuscate and a knack for fucking with the wrong people could do that, herself included. He even smelled like the Kaz she knew, but for some reason, none of that appeased her anxious Beast. The closer he got, the more nervous she became, but she didn't falter, her gaze just became harder.

Finally he stopped, and she took a deep breath. This moodswing was throwing her for a loop, but she knew better than to ignore her instincts. It just didn't add up. How the fuck did he get here in the first place, let alone know exactly where to look? How could he possibly know to look here in the first place? Sure, someone in London could've told him she went AWOL, but how would they know which direction to point him. Why every single time she even thought about that godforsaken place, she always thought of Church, was beyond her. She shook the thought from her head and listened to his quip, but she didn't smile yet, or accept that even though he sounded just like she remembered... She just couldn't trust this. Why? Why was this so hard for her to grasp?

Her face didn't tell him much, just that she was lost in stone-cold thought as she looked him over. But finally, after a few more moments of silence, she moved. Taking fearless steps towards this possible imposter, she reached for his hand and snatched it up, lifting his wrist up to her mouth and sinking her large canines into the dead muscle and tissue. The blood that flooded her mouth tasted all too familiar, and mildly burned the back of her throat. It tasted similar to her own, but not nearly as potent as Vry's. This was him. Her childe. Her pup. "Kaz," she whispered, her eyes lighting up as this recognition registered in her brain and she looked up to him, who seemed more confused by her initial greeting than anything else. She unlatched from his arm and licked the puncture wound, pressing a quick, cold kiss against his skin before pulling him closer and jumping up to hug him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. A happy sob caught in her throat, and when she finally let go of him and tried to gain her own composure, she wiped a bloody tear from her eye, "I'm sorry," She looked him up and down again, as if he'd grown a foot since she'd seen him last or something. He still looked the same, obviously, but immortality suited him. He didn't have a waifish air about him anymore, "I just didn't know if I'd see you again."

Well, now that she wasn't overly paranoid, and absolutely sure that yes, this was her childe and not an imposter, what now? It wasn't like she had a new and improved underground haven to show him like did the first time around. She didn't really have much of anything besides the tree she'd been sleeping under. "How did you find me, anyways?"
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Kaz
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Casey Grey
"Well, it wasn't easy," Kaz said, grinning at his sire and rubbing at his sore wrist. He felt glad that she was here, and that she was glad he was here. His confusion was mostly dispelled, but he had to review the past few seconds to fully grasp what had just transpired between the two of them.

The first thing Kaz had felt was shame. Shame that, after all these months and the concern that they had shared, the only thing he was able to say to Nora was a stupid joke. He could have said almost anything else and it would have been better. Something heartfelt, sincere. Even something as simple as a 'how are you.' Instead, he had made a joke, and the flat stare Nora gave him shamed him all the more.

The second thing Kaz felt was shock. When Nora had stepped forward suddenly, taking his wrist and biting into his flesh. His otherwise still, chemically-treated blood flooded his sire's mouth; his toxic life force. The young man winced, crying out slightly before stammering "N-Nora! What the hell!" He attempted to wrench his hand away, but was unable to free himself from her grasp until she released him herself. He cradled his wrist with his other hand, watching as the marks from Nora's teeth faded away, covered once again by his pale skin.

Next, he felt confusion, as he was wrapped up in Nora's embrace. He looked down at the petite ravenette, swaths of color peering though as she had her face buried in his chest, limbs wrapped around his body. The intimate gesture would have caused Casey Grey to blush, were he able to anymore. Abashed, he looked around the dimly lit park, wondering who, if anybody, had seen the display. Regardless, he allowed Nora the hug without complaint, eventually wrapping his own arms around her slender shoulders, returning the gesture as his confusion turned to relief and gratitude.

Then, he simply felt happy. Much more so than he had for months. He had felt excited, of course, almost every day was a new adventure, but this new feeling of contentment was something new. He was certain now. He was home. He was with his family, as small and strange as it was.

Content with what had transpired, Kaz returned to the present. He was again with Nora, standing before, looking at him with looked to be... Approval? He had hoped so. As silly as it was, he hoped he made his sire proud. There's a lot of things he had done that he knew she wouldn't approve of, but as a whole, he feared being a disappointment. More than anything.

"How did you find me, anyways," she had asked.

With a small smile, Kaz had reached into his jacket and produced Vry's letter. He noticed, with a small pang of disappointment, that the paper had been slightly creased from all that had transpired, but he hoped Nora didn't mind. He handed the parchment to his sire, unbroken seal faced up and towards her, wax glinting in the lamp-light above them. "I had a little help from my grandsire," he said.

He waited for her to take it from his hands, then took a polite step backwards to give her room to read. "I've been real curious as to what that could say," he said aloud, but quickly silenced himself to allow her to read the private message.
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
Nora looked between her childe and the parchment in his hand blankly, not quite sure how to respond to the mention of her sire. "Of course you did," She said sweetly, reaching out and taking the paper from his hesitantly. Did she want to know what it said, or contained? What if it was some kind of freaky ass enchanted paper bought exclusively from the Tremere fuckers. That sounded like something Vry would do. Think your getting a happy letter, nah, fuck you, it's a face full of ink that literally jumps off the page and onto your face. That was some Harry Potter shit right there.

The feel of this stationary was foreign, yet so familiar. It'd been a long time since he'd left a note for her to find. It was cool somehow, and smelled crisp and clean, like him. She sucked in a breath as she used the claw of her pinky finger to slice the envelope open and see what was inside. It was a single sheet of paper, with Vry's elegant scrawl dancing across it:

Nora,

Call the number provided. You'll find your personal belongings and assets you left behind can be easily moved with your verbal authorization.

Consider this my housewarming gift. Stay. Enjoy your life for once.

Trust me.

Vry


Nora looked up to Kaz, "Do you have a phone?" She'd been without one the entire time she was here.
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Kaz
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Casey Grey
Kaz bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet as Nora read the parchment. He was concerned. She had replied to him kindly enough, but the look on her face betrayed her unease. She was not happy to hear about Vry, and Casey Grey could only wonder why in silence as his sire cautiously opened and read the letter.

But damn her, she had a good poker face. She poured over the parchment, silent and stoic. The young man could only stand and wonder at what the news contained in the letter could possibly be. He didn't even know if it was good or bad news yet. Goddamn it, Nora, the fledgling thought impatiently. Give me something.

But she didn't, of course. She just stood there regarding the parchment so still and so silent that Kaz started to wonder if she was stricken with paralysis. No sooner had he noticed, however, than she was freed from it, eyes snapping up to him. He--pointlessly--held his breath, waiting for an explanation of some sort. No such luck. Penvellyn instead only demanded his phone.

With a creased brow and a grumble, Kaz reached into his pocket, and produced the small, cheap, pre-paid flip-phone. "Sure, here," he offered, still slightly miffed. He had carried that letter across an ocean, resisting the urge to open and read it for several boring, cramped, cold hours. As far as he was concerned, he deserved to know what was on that paper, dammit.

Of course, his complaints were unspoken, and they weren't so great to begin with, he reflected, as his sire plucked the phone from his hands and began to dial.
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Vasili Stomalkov
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Childe
"Zdravstvuyte ptichka. You're walking on some very special ground moi druz'ya." The smell that accompanied the voice would be familiar to Nora, as would the voice itself; a terrifying, brutal musk of pure masculinity saturated with barely suppressed rage - accompanying it the twinge of alcohol and cloves that made the scent so distinctive, so recognisable. It was unlikely that Kaz would know it; the giant Zveri had never crossed his path before, which was perhaps fortunate because back in the day he had been a loose cannon, free to do as he pleased and to indulge the psychotic animal rage of his bloodline.

As he stepped out into plain view Vasili's enormity became clear; the deadly mass of thick corded muscle which had been enhanced beyond reason by his degenerate blood. The Zveri were a rare bloodline because not everyone's body was capable of taking the strain of the physical transformation which accompanied the embrace; Vasili had seen men's bodies torn apart as their flesh failed to expand to accommodate the rapidly toughening bone structure and muscle growth. Vasili was not among them, his body had only grown larger and larger over time, it was with good reason that he had been known as the Bear.

The Russian recognised Nora of course, everything about her from the way she looked and dressed to the way she spoke and smelt; he didn't have the acute animalistic senses of the Gangrel but he had been gifted with a sharper nose than most and the ability to pick out particular smells. It was one of many talents he had honed in the near century he had been alive; you had to have sharp senses and sharp reflexes if you were going to succeed as a Zveri, particularly if you were working in Vasili's chosen profession; hired muscle. When he had been run out of London by the Camarilla and seemingly abandoned by the Anarchs his rage had spiralled out of control and he had burned a great many bridges in the process, quite literally in some cases. But under Andrew's employ he had learned how to enforce his own will upon his feelings, though he would never fully banish the savage and violent beast which burned in him he could now control his anger - to a point.

"Now deti, I need you both to come with me. There's a man who would very much like to meet you both and he does not like to be kept waiting." The accent was a thick, heavy Russian brusque, the voice deep. Vasili hadn't even been to Russia in decades and yet in all that time his voice hadn't changed at all. It thundered powerfully out of his huge chest which heavied with every unnecessary breath. "You're lucky malyutka; he wants you alive and unharmed." It was to Nora that he spoke now, through gritted teeth.
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
Nora plucked the cheap phone from her childe's hand and turned away from him as she briskly flipped it open and dialed the number given. She wasn't quite sure what all this was about, but the distant excitement danced in her icy blue eyes as she glanced back to Kaz. There was a small hint of a smile as she listened to the dial tone.

A familiar voice thundering behind her wiped it straight off her face.

Looking up to her pup, still shuffling anxiously and surely wanting to know what the fuck was going on before fucking Vasili of all fucking people crashed their happy little reunion. She didn't understand some of what he said, and he sounded fucking pissed. She visibly stiffened, the hairs on the back of her neck rising and the veil of obfuscate she had been wearing to cover the very visible new patch of scales that ran in a corded strip down the left side of her face now gone. Her eyes no longer looked human, the pupils shrinking to thin slits like that of an angry serpent. Her overly large canines seemed more pronounced as she drew in a slow breath, locking eyes with Kaz and whispering very low, "Don't move unless I tell you to," was all she said as she turned around to face the Bear. With a very fucking annoyed expression twisting her pretty features.

The phone was still pressed to the side of her face, and it was when she took in Vasili's massive presence that she heard a voice on the other end, "Hello Ms. Penvellyn."

"Just one moment," She said quite pleasantly despite the ferocity bubbling over in her gaze. She looked up to the hulking Russian, "It's funny, I really don't give two fucks. I'm rather busy at the moment, if you haven't noticed," She whispered shortly, her hand over the speaker of the device. She didn't take her eyes off him, but she did take a few steps back towards her pup, tucking him in behind her and lifting her chin. A protective stance she didn't even realize she was taking.

"Thank you for your patience," She started slowly, still unsure of the written blessing her Sire had given her, "I was told to call this number, and I can see you've been expecting my call... So what's all that about, exactly?"

"I'm a close friend of your Daddy's you see," The man's voice on the end sounded very English, and jovially professional, "He wants to make sure you settle comfortable, and has given me all the information I would need to move your offshore accounts so that they're more readily accessible to you, as well as all your personal belongings you left behind in your old home. All I need is your verbal consent to do so."

Nora hesitated, trying to desperately swallow such encouraging news. This was for real. Like, for real for real. "That's..." She sounded surprised, and only slightly elated, "Fucking kick ass. Yes, please. Do it."

"He thought you'd say something like that." The man sounded pleased, mouse clicking and keyboard tapping could be heard, "Alright, when you hang up, a text message will be sent to the phone you're using with more details. It's sensitive information, and will expire within ten minutes and erase itself, so please make sure you write or store that information somewhere safe."

"Thank you. So, so much."

"Til next time, Sweet Cheeks."

A bit thrown by being called that, as she didn't answer to it often anymore, left her reeling, wondering who it was she just talked to. All things aside though, she could hardly contain her excitement as she reached behind her and took Kaz' hand. He wouldn't know what the encouraging squeeze would mean, but he would soon enough.

Now there was the Bear to deal with. Nora snapped the phone shut, and handed it back to her childe, looking over shoulder, "The next text message you get, write everything it says down and keep it by your heart." She gave him a reassuring smile before looking back to Vasili, and staring up at him with a hard, stoic gaze for a few long seconds before speaking, "I'm lucky am I? Why is that?" She took a couple steps towards him again, far from intimidated by his sheer size and strength. She'd spent enough time around him to be unafraid, but then again, she'd never stood off with him when he looked at her the way he was now. He looked pissed the fuck off, but that wasn't unusual for him. This though... This was apparently personal, "Are you going to bulldoze me too? After everything we've been through? I thought we were better friends than that." Her tone was low, dry and dripping with sarcasm. She knew why he was seething, but it was out of her control. He'd just have to see reason. If he refused though... Well, tonight was about to get a whole lot more interesting.
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Vasili Stomalkov
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The Bear did not like this at all; Nora had abandoned him to his fate in London, led him on believing that she was somehow his sister. He knew she wasn't now of course, in a sense he'd known it then but denial had been fed by her acceptance of his delusion and he had been drawn into a bizarre fantasy world where she both was and was not the sister he had loved. Now he had a job to do working for a man who paid him for his very specific set of skills, a man who did not question his methods or past and who played no tricks with him; it was a simple relationship, a business relationship and that suited Vasili just fine.

Nora was typically brusque choosing to push her luck and Vasili's nerves by continuing with her phone call rather than complying immediately; he wasn't a patient man at the best of times and when dealing with Nora even less so. His anger started to rise and he clenched his fists in an effort to remain calm - Cutting had made it clear he wanted these two unharmed; had he realised who it was he was meant to be bringing in he might not have made any promises. The muscles around his necks grew tense as his jaw clenched and he looked down at the tiny pair of kindred.

"Da lucky I don't tear you apart like little doll." The low, heavy growl seemed all the more sinister for the heavy Russian accent it came with; it was like listening to Dracula on steroids and every syllable was weighted with suppressed rage. "You should be giving many fucks da, because very important man want to speak with you, both of you. He tells me 'Vasili, I see these two here; new kindred. I want to talk them, bring them to me unharmed. We make this civil.' So I am being civil; lucky you. Ponyat?"
Edited by Vasili Stomalkov, Jul 29 2014, 03:52 PM.
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Kaz
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Casey Grey's curiosity would have to wait, it seemed. Even before Nora could start her phone call, a lone Russian man came stalking up to them, and with a threatening tone demanded that they follow. That was not something the young vampire was quite willing to do. With fire burning in his reddening eyes, he stared down the newcomer, his gaze silently demanding an explanation on the intrusion. He was about to step in front of Nora when she glanced at him, her eyes demanding his attention.

When his sight met hers, he was startled by what he had seen. Her face was covered in new scales, her serpentine eyes angry as the watched him, and her fangs long and aggressive, ready to tear out a throat. What has she been through while I've been gone, Kaz wondered. He knew well enough what frenzy did to a Gangrel, and as he looked upon his sire...

She commanded him to stay still, and reluctantly, Kaz nodded in consent. He was tired and angry and just wanted to catch up with his sire, but it looked like no one was going to allow him even that. He waited patiently as Nora finished her call, not even listening to what she was saying, only focusing on the Russian, staring him down coldly, the familiar Beast welling in rage within him. At first, he wondered if he was from the sect in Moscow, stalking him for revenge, but soon he began to recognize the Kindred before him. He thought back to that night, and the hulking Russian standing in Nora's office, covered in blood, having just... Disciplined Marcus, the first vampire Kaz had ever met. Or at least so he thought.

Nora held out the phone for him, interrupting his impromptu staring contest. With a nod, Kaz took his assignment and the phone, before joining his sire to once again stare down the Russian. He wondered what had happened between the two. Back in the Baron's office in the Night Tripper, Vasili had been obedient, happy to please her, but now he seemed seconds away from tearing her apart. The young Gangrel smirked when he noticed how Nora's words angered him. The skill of being a pest apparently common between them. Of course, when this Vasili had threatened her, Kaz took that personally, but it did seem that their health was guaranteed, at least for the moment.

"Otvali, svoloch'," Kaz spat suddenly, his patience worn thin, calling forth the Russian he had learned in Moscow. It may not have been smart or in the interest of peace, and it may have been against Nora's orders, but he hardly cared at this point. He had traveled across the Atlantic, twice for this reunion, once on a slow-moving freighter stuffed in shipping containers, and a second time tucked up against the landing gear of a Boeing Seven-Forty-Seven. He wasn't in the mood to be talked down to and threatened, but he could be persuaded to fight.
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Vasili Stomalkov
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The whelp who stood with Nora seemed defiant, from his perspective it might have been bravery, but to Vasili it was nothing more than an insult and a foolish one at that. Did this childer not know who he was? Did he not know why it was that he had been run out of London? Because he was as big a danger to his fellow kindred as he was to humans; a man who could pull off limbs and dismember even respectably powerful kindred would always be a threat, especially when he was possessed of three traits which were much more dangerous when combined; an unquenchable thirst for violence, a complete lack of morality and a mercenary attitude. Insulting him in his mother tongue though was stupid beyond measure; a beast of his size could still slip its leash if properly motivated.

"Vy dolzhny byli slushat' vashu podrugu, zadnitsu shlyapu." Vasili's response was a quick menacing rumble and the a fist thundered towards Kaz's chest with the force of a freight train with speed that could only be called lightning, which seemed completely at odds with the Russian's huge, lumbering appearance. This punch wasn't the most powerful he'd ever thrown, but then it didn't need to be; he'd killed mortals with weaker blows than this and if it connected solidly then it would likely cave in the young Gangrel's chest - not a fatal blow by any means, but an ideal way to incapacitate a kindred opponent. "Don't make me break you little girl."

Vasili's blood was up now, the potent but tainted vitae which marked his bloodline as a separate, degenerate form of the Brujah clan, coursed through him lending strength, speed and raw power to his already massive frame. It was as if every muscle in his body had suddenly slipped into overdrive, tensing with fury and yet even those that remained still seemed somehow to be in motion - a powerful reminder of just how foolish it was to anger the man known as the Bear. It was also a reminder that for their claws and gnashing teeth the pair had little which really frightened him.
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Nora Penvellyn
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Nora's jaw tightened, her glassy eyes icing over as she glared up at the juggernaut. Kaz muttered something in...was that Russian? What the fuck? He knew fucking Russian? She twisted her upper body to look at him incredulously, still refusing to completely turn her back to Vasili as she implored her childe, "What did you just -- Holy fucking shit!"

It all happened so goddamn fast. She saw the Bear's fist flash in her peripherals and before she could register what the fuck was happening, Kaz was sent staggering, falling flat on his back. Her Beast roared, the fury that burned through her entire being as she looked back to the steel faced fucker that just took a fucking cheap shot at her own fucking childe. Animal instinct took over as she whipped on Vasili, tunnel vision narrowing her gaze as she snarled at him with a vehement red glare. Her claws ached to tear into the motherfucker's throat, but she could feel the inside of her cheeks begin to tingle and ache, venom flooding her mouth. She spat it at him, a viscous mixture of acid and blood splattered on his boot, as she slid to Kaz's side, on her knees and looking up at him, as if the Beast had possessed her. A low growl rumbled deep in her chest, her jaw distended; her chin fell against her chest, her canines still dripping with deadly snake venom, "Fucking touch my childe again and it'll be your fucking EYES, motherfucker."

She got two fistfuls of Kaz's shirt and ripped it open to assess the damage. There was a crater the size of Vasili's fist caving in his chest cavity. She sucked in a breath and frowned down at her childe, her cool fingers brushing the hair out of his face lovingly, cupping his cheek for a moment before, "Don't heal it yet, baby. This is FAR from FUCKING UNHARMED." She spat, looking away and finding the Russian again with her livid gaze, "Break me? Fuck you, Vasili. FUCK. YOU." She sounded like she was on the verge of losing her shit, but she was actually far from it. Not that far, though. "Fuck you, for ever once fucking doubting me and my fucking loyalty. FUCK YOU, for thinking I would EVER fucking roll over and heel for a fucking PRINCE."

Nora rose to her feet, bending down and gently dragging her winded childe across the walking trail to a bench that wasn't far away, "You wanna hate me for going along with all that 'Zoya' bullshit, by all means, be my fucking guest. I mean, I don't know what else you expected me to do," She stopped, lifting Kaz up into a sitting position that wasn't nearly as vulnerable as where he was previously, before continuing, "Considering you Hulk-smashed through a fucking WALL, snatched me up, and took off. Not cooperating would've been such a grand idea. It's a fuckin' pity I didn't think of that sooner. We could've just skipped the whole 'tear me the fuck apart like a goddamn ragdoll' thing, because you would've already done it!" Nora ran her fingers through Kaz's hair again, taking a seat closely next to him as she tried to make him more comfortable.

"But don't you EVER fucking hate me for betraying you or whatever the fuck you think I did, because I fucking didn't." A few moments of silence passed, looking down at Kaz's concave chest again and feeling so many feelings she'd never felt before. She ached for her childe in a way she hadn't felt for anyone else. She wished her touch could absorb some of the pain he was surely feeling right now, not knowing how else to help him beyond comforting him. She felt helpless, unbelievably fucking angry, and vengeful. She knew better though, because she thought she was a fuckin' loose cannon. Vasili made her pale in comparison. She wanted to cry, because she didn't know how else to let go of any of these confusing as hell emotions, but she didn't. "I fought for you. It was a waste of my time, and you can bet your fucking ass that I made noise. Very fucking loudly. How dare you, Vasili Stomalkov." She spat it at him through gritted teeth, looking genuinely offended, hurt even, that he thought so lowly of her after everything she'd gone through with him back in London.
Edited by Nora Penvellyn, Aug 2 2014, 09:37 PM.
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Vasili Stomalkov
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"You are talking too much suka! Explain it to boss man." Vasili's voice rumbled with low disapproval as he eyed the pair of Gangrel Anarchs; it was hard to say what he was thinking, even whether or not Nora's words had sunk in, his demeanor certainly hadn't changed and the Zveri seemed as intent as ever to take them with him. In truth Nora's words had had little effect, he no longer trusted her as he once did - his view of what had happened in London was unchanged, he had been persecuted and driven off and all the while Nora and her people had been nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had fought his corner and then again maybe not, how could he know when the only people who could tell him for certain were either in London or untrustworthy. Regardless she was angry and letting out that aggression in the presence of a Zveri, whose own powers were fuelled by such aggression was most unwise and his own control was starting to be tested, he needed to end this and bring them in and soon. "You want to lodge complaint form, you come with me; if not I take you anyway - it is same to me."
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
Vasili's gruff dismissal of the words she'd had for him was irritating; the fact that there was no walking away from this only pissed her off even more. Her Beast was still growling, pacing impatiently in it's cage and rattling the bars, begging to be let off it's leash so it could sink it's claws into the massive mound of muscles looming before her. She looked between the Russian and her childe with sharp eyes, sighing with agitation. The last time she'd faced off with this motherfucker, it was more like a shitty b-rate remake of King fuckin' Kong than anything else.

Sitting back on the bench beside Kaz' slumped form, she crossed her arms beneath her bust and stared at Vasili's boots for a few silent moments, her hands tightly balled into fists. A hint of black ink on her wrist caught her eye as she squirmed under her escort's burning gaze. Sullivan's number. Turning back to her progeny, she plucked the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, quickly punching in the numbers...american phone numbers were so fuckin' weird... And hit the call button, tucking the thin piece of metal and plastic between his ear and shoulder as she got to her feet. Bent over and doting on him like a young child with a scraped knee, she brushed another lock of his shaggy hair from his forehead and straightened the collar of his jacket, "It's dialing Sully. Ask him to come and get you. He'll get you fixed up. Tell him I'll call him once I'm done with this bullshit. We'll talk more soon, baby cakes." She pressed a kiss to her cheek and swung her attention back on the Bear.

"I'll go," She said shortly, "But he's staying whether you like it or not. I'm not dragging his ass across Hell's half fuckin' acre after the shit you pulled." She moved to walk with him, pulling a rolled joint out from behind her ear and lighting it up as she matched her pace with his. After taking a long drag and letting a plume of smoke escape her she finally spoke again, "Who the hell even is your 'boss man', anyways?"
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Vasili Stomalkov
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"Fine, send little puppy away. Boss only really interested in you anyway." Vasili waved off the kid as if he was nothing; he hadn't meant to seriously harm him, but Vasili's strength was vast and his control over it was not even close to absolute. The simplest of gestures could result in injury; fortunately this one had been kindred or some very serious and permanent harm may have been caused, as it was it was likely that he'd be able to walk it off and probably wouldn't even feel it by tomorrow. Blunt force trauma was hardly a long term impediment to kindred after all.

The Bear popped his knuckles and rolled his shoulders heavily, the fresh scars which marked his arms rippled in response; he had been through a lot and the degenerate blood flowing through his veins meant that his body didn't leave him pristine after sustaining severe injuries. Fortunately this was no impediment to his physical abilities, but it did mean that severe wounds left permanent marks; right now this might make him look more menacing but if he lived for a century or so then he'd likely be so covered with marks as to be unrecognisable from a human.

He waited for Nora to finish with her pup and then took her firmly, though not firmly enough as to harm her, in hand and led her away to the Cutting Building, and Elysium where she would be safe - at least from direct and immediate harm. Quite what the Cutting wanted with her he didn't know and nor did he particularly care; he was done feeling anything but rage towards her these days, so whatever his boss wanted he could care less. If he killed her good, if not then it meant she could still be killed in the future. Vasili led her through the lobby of the building, the security officers and receptionists didn't even look twice at him, they all knew who he was and that he shouldn't be obstructed - even so it was unlikely any of them would have wanted to get too close anyway, he had a strange aura of malice about him.

Unlike the suit or dress wearing staff Vasili was in complete contrast in his tight XXL white t-shirt and combats; he stopped briefly to pick up his ID card from the desk and then made his way directly to the express elevator. Soon they would be in the Bossman's realm, but first they had a cramped elevator ride to endure.
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Kaz
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As Kaz lied supine on the ground, fragments of rib perforating his necrotic internal organs and flesh, the only thought that filled his mind was: What the fuck was I thinking?

He'd learned before, from the likes of Aleksandra, Abu Basim, Gaagii, and even Nora's sire Vry how carefully one had to tread around other Kindred. His fear had kept him in check with them, but what had changed with this Vasili? He reflected on that fear, or rather, its absence, and noted it wasn't a fear of death. He had accepted his death a long time ago, now he was just living on overtime. It wasn't a fear of pain, either, as he noticed that his concave chest didn't seem to bother him too much.

No. What had kept him going across the globe was a goal. Nora had sent him off with the orders that he returned to her when he was ready, and he had. In his excitement, he had lost that level head of his, and now was cradled in the arms of his Sire as his ribs and flesh slowly mended themselves back into their proper place. Clearly, Nora wanted more out of Kaz than just to return to her, so perhaps it was time for the young fledgling to focus his energies on something more productive than pissing off large Russians.

And so when Nora propped him up against the park bench, pressing her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss, and ordered him to call Sully and wait, rather than follow or stand up and continue fighting, Kaz obliged. With a small smile, Kaz nodded and said: "Quit your fussing, Nora, I've felt much worse. I'll see you when you get back."

The Floridan sat and watched as his surrogate mother was taken by the wrist and dragged from the park and out of his site. Kaz sighed, and the phone pinched between his shoulder and ear stopped ringing. "Sully, it's Nora's bastard, Kaz." He stared out into the darkened night, once again only accompanied by the street lamps and the sounds of a never-sleeping city. "... Nora may be in trouble..."
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Sullivan
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The Black Lion
The rough twang of accented speech on the other side of the phone call uttered a short bark of a chuckle, "That don't sound like it's even half the full story. Alright - I'll grab the Cub an' we'll head to you. Where're ye stood?"

A beat passed before Sullivan's gravelly brogue interrupted the silence, "Wait - slight difficulty on our end. Can ye move? Head ta North End. Ask fer directions if ye have to, but it should be fairly easy - meet us on top o' the tallest building opposite the pizza place."

With that the Irishman hung up and stuffed the phone into his pocket, a grim frown on his face - he now had a Cub to wrangle and a worry of Nora's safety. Then again, he supposed a smart person would stay worried regarding her.
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Nora Penvellyn
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I am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rage
Nora glared up at the Russian as he snatched her wrist and hand; she'd forgotten what it was like having his massive paws on her body. She'd also forgotten how big he really was. Perhaps she'd learned to look passed it once, but how twig-like and snappy she felt in his grasp was unnerving to say the least. She looked over her shoulder one last time and waved warily at her childe before Vasili had dragged her along and out of sight. She burned an inkling of blood to match his brisk pace. How he managed to move as swiftly as he did carrying so much muscle mass was beyond her. She'd always relied on her skinny ass being able to fit just about anywhere and not get in the way of dodging other peoples hands. While the thought of running had crossed her mind, it was a game that would only get her a shattered forearm if she tried. She'd tangoed with the Juggernaut enough to know he could easily snatch her up and snap her in half if he really wanted to. Apparently he was butt-hurt that she'd deceived him to keep him tame in London. Now was not the time to give him a reason to do any snapping.

Vasili had never answered the question about his boss man, so she kept her mouth shut and let her observant do the answering for her. She'd walked these blocks he was weaving through a couple times before, but this thoroughfare... it went into Downtown proper. Where the only money in the city left lay in wait to crumble to the ground. This, she knew, was Cape territory, but where it started and stopped was vague. Fuckin' great. She'd been in this shithole for less than two weeks and the Ivory Tower was already sniffing her out. Why, though? She doubted anyone in London really cared all that much about her absence, unless...

Fuck.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

This wasn't about the bullshit that went down in Camden was it?

There wasn't enough drugs in the world that could wipe that shit from her memory. Try as she might. She'd practically fried herself the week afterwards, trying and failing miserably as she laid in her Haven and stared at the ceiling, half expecting that pink-tied fairy fuck to pop up and take her back to Hell with him, where they both belonged. Having that kind of secret on your shoulders, knowing that opening your mouth could get a dozen innocent people killed, innocent people that included herself, as she never asked for that clusterfuck of bullshit to fall in her lap... It was overwhelming. It made her anxious. Made her want to wiggle out of his grasp and run in the other direction. She didn't even care if he killed her. It just meant she wouldn't have to face this shit again.

Her surroundings seemed to become hazy as they kept moving. She didn't take much of the Cutting Building's immaculate architecture or interior design into account, as it all became a blur and the ringing in her head became louder and louder. She'd lost track of where she was, and the closer to this Cape they were getting, the more anxious she got. She wanted blow. A mainline that would burn her dead veins and take her mind off the big bad wolves waiting for her behind closed mahogany doors. Dirty needles and hotshots were better than this. Her nervousness was becoming evident as the elevator doors slid open and beckoned her inside. She folded into herself, almost forgetting Vasili was there as she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The sound of the pulleys, gears, and mechanisms of the elevator were a welcome distraction, but it didn't stop the ringing in her ears or the itch that was begging to be scratched in the crook of her arm. She sucked in a breath sharply and knocked her head against the wall before standing upright again, her eyes watching the numbers light up as they passed floor after floor. Was this thing actually going slower than it was supposed to? She looked down at her wrist, still wrapped in Vasili's meaty grasp, and looked at him nervously without saying a word. It was her other arm that was itching, but his hold on her kept her from doing it freely. After a few moments of trying to ignore it, she knew she couldn't. She didn't care how weirded out he'd be by her scratching, turning her body towards him and hunching so she could yank up her sleeve and dig into the pale, scarred flesh, track marks and all. Her vices were nothing new to him.

The ding of the elevator finally reaching it's intended floor practically made her jump out of her skin. With hackles raised and guards up, she slipped her sleeve back down and let Vasili drag her wherever it was they were going, to whoever it was that wanted to see her. This wasn't the first time she'd been cornered at the top of a tall building. They could call up the crazy ass Malk Prince in Vegas. Being in the penthouse suite didn't stop her from jumping out the goddamn window. She couldn't even fly then either...

Windows were now her best friend. She had to find one to jump out of first.
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