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Post by South on Aug 1, 2012 22:26:58 GMT -5
i want to swim away but don't know how sometimes it feels just like i'm fallin' in the ocean let the waves up take me down let the hurricane set in motion, yeah let the rain of what i feel right now come down
Riley and I have never had much in the way of brotherly bonding (we’re about as bound as two people can be already, eternal loyalty seared irrevocably into our skin with a whole world of expectation to go along with it), but breakfast on Fridays at Fredrico’s has become so much of a tradition over the past few years that it’s hard to remember a time where there came a Friday morning where I wasn’t folded into the far left corner booth, a menu propped between my fingers and the cheap plastic-leather seat rubbing static electricity into my clothes. This morning, though, there’s no bespectacled eyes looking back at me from across the table, no slight form all wrapped up in plaid flannel and a sweet demeanor that doesn’t match what a Nephilim should be but that I still wouldn’t change for the world. It’s not really brotherly bonding if my brother isn’t here, I guess.
I scowl slightly, ordering my usual waffles and eggs over easy with a black coffee when that pretty Faerie waitress zooms by, my fingers twitching restlessly before searching my backpack and coming up with a well-worn Hemingway novel. I have never been a conversationalist, but Fridays are my Talking Day, the time when Riley, one of the privileged few in this world who I actually allow to be privy to my deeper thoughts, sits in the other side of the booth and we shoot the breeze back and forth for an hour or so, more at ease than either of us are the rest of the week. However, it seems that plans have changed; I went to haul him out of bed this morning only to find an apologetic note with some long, rambling explanation about Casper hauling him downtown to an Enclave meeting and promises that he’d make it up to me somehow. I don’t know why I expected any different. The up-and-coming heir of the Institute needs to be shown off, after all, unlike me, the never-ending source of shame who has the occasional perk of being left to my own devices on an early morning. My coffee arrives and I sip it with a sour expression, missing my brother’s company more than I care to even admit to myself and watching the occupants of the restaurant with a mildly uninterested gaze.
I catch a flash of bright red hair over the top of my book, skating across my vision barely-noticed but still present. My initial thought is of Gallifrey, who might have seen me storming out of the Institute alone and looking murderous and might have taken pity on me in the form of coming to offer companionship I’m not sure I’d like. A quick look reveals not my teammate and adopted sister, however, but rather a startlingly familiar boy with alabaster-pale skin and a shock of crimson waves, delicate bone structure and long lashes. Vampire, obviously, but the familiarity takes a few seconds longer to figure out. Even though the task of major Downworlder negotiations lies with Casper as head of the Institute, my assigned errands often include making minor liaisons with the city’s population of Night Children. I’ve seen him hanging around Adele when I’ve gone to drop off paperwork before; that must be it. Still, the ghost of an idea tickles the back of my head. I think back to last week, that odd night where I met Colt, ended up chasing down a rogue vampire at three in the morning, and unintentionally met Colt again. I had been meaning to go and talk to Adele about the influx of deflections from her clan, but a certain annoyingly attractive warlock had proved a sufficient distraction.
Speaking of annoyingly attractive warlocks… as if on cue my phone lights up from its place on the formica-topped table, a new text message from one Colt Hanlon popping up on the screen. Morning, handsome. Fifth try’s a charm, you want to go get dinner tonight? ;D
Rolling my eyes, I pick up the battered touch-screen that was a hand-me-down from Riley and type a hasty response. Morning, obnoxious. Save the pickup lines for when I’m fully awake, please. And no. Stop asking. Doing some investigative work, ttyl.
The vibrating buzz of a returned text five seconds later. Detective Kae. Hot.
My eyebrow quirks upwards even though he isn't there to see the look I shoot him through the screen of my phone, thumbs flying over the scratched screen again. Your blatant desperation is not attractive.
With a disenchanted snort I scoop up the half-empty coffee cup with one hand and toss the phone back in my bag with the other, yanking a notebook and pen out of the canvas satchel before setting off across the restaurant. If Riley’s not here, at least maybe I can get some Shadowhunting work done before I head over to the garage to pick up the morning shift. I’ve gotten used to being that annoying, Law-toting mosquito in a Downworlder’s ear after a few years on the job, but I still can’t help but feel like a bit of an ass when I slide into the other side of the redheaded vampire boy’ booth uninvited, a forced half-smile tugging uncomfortably at my lips. “Hi. Hate to interrupt your breakfast, but I thought you might be able to answer some questions for me. I’m Kaelen Dempsey with the Chicago Institute, and I was wondering if you’re in any way affiliated with Adele Perdue.”
where is the coastguard, i keep looking each direction for a spotlight, give me something, i need something for protection maybe flotsam junk will do just fine, the jetsam sunk, i'm left behind i'm treading for my life, believe me how can i stop this breathing?
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Post by tijntas on Aug 2, 2012 22:04:00 GMT -5
I’m running as fast as I can, which is pretty fast, considering I’m a vampire and all. I like running, always have. Even back in the days when I was still a mundane, I used to go out into the forest and run. If I compare that to what I’m doing right now, it’s barely crawling, though. I couldn’t even outrun my own dog. But still, I liked it, and I was good at it, one of the best in my class. It was one of the few things that actually made my parents proud, along with my grades and my volunteering at the church, so when I run, it almost feels like I can hear them, cheering me on, praising me. It’s also what I do when someone pisses me off, and there’s not really anything I can do about it. That “someone” is usually Reagan. Whenever she’s mad at Adele, or well, anybody, she takes it out on me. And Reagan is the type of person who is mad all the time.
I actually woke up this morning, feeling like this might be one of the best days I've had in a while. Well, morning, as a vampire, I'm kind of forced to run on a nocturnal schedule, but for me, that's morning. I felt great, mostly because I woke up to Reagan screaming. Apparently, she had just heard that a shadowhunter killed one of her minions. I quickly put on some clothes and followed the sound of her voice. She was screaming at the fledgling who had probably told her the news. She doesn't really believe in don't shoot the messenger. According to her, it's "pacifistic sissy bullcrap". Yeah, that's Reagan. I tried to get her attention, mostly out of compassion for the fledgling, by making a remark about how I've never seen her so human. It's true though, normally, she's just devoid of emotion, but she sees that as an insult. She growled something about how I should just get back to my finger painting and leave the important things to the adults. I made a snarky comment back, and that's when true chaos erupted. A couple of vampires actually tried to stand up for me, but most of them, including the fledgling I'd just saved, were all over me, insulting me, even making some death threats. Do those people even realize I could probably take every single one of them in a fight? I mean, I'm still one of the oldest, and therefore most powerful, vampires of this clan. But I can't do anything, because if I harm them, they will force Adele to execute me. It's so frustrating.
So here I am, running through the streets of downtown Chicago. I come to an abrupt stop when I feel my fangs suddenly coming out and penetrating my lip. I forgot that I haven't fed in a while. I've been too caught up in dealing with the dead vampire child the last couple of days. It's too late to go to the club now to pick up some stupid mundane girl. I could just pick up some random hobo or other drunk mundane and glamour them afterwards, but I don't like dirty blood. I know, I'm a snob when it comes to that. I blame my parents. When I was still alive, they always gave me extremely expensive food and spoiled me, never let me even near a hobo. I was used to luxury, and I kept that up as a vampire. So I decide to go to Fredrico's. I haven't been there in a while, but if I remember correctly, their blood is good and tastes like it comes fresh from the source. I have no idea how they do it. I look around to see where I am, and decide that it's probably only about a minute away.
So exactly sixty-seven seconds later, I walk through the door of Fredrico's diner. The waitress leads me to a booth just next to the door. She's pretty, and really obviously Fae. Even though most fairies are beautiful, I've never really liked them, which is strange considering the fact that I usually tend to like pretty things. They're just too... strange. I order a glass of AB negative, mixed with good Russian vodka. It's probably one of the most expensive drinks they serve in this place, considering how rare AB negative is, and I like my vodka good. As I said, I'm a snob. Luckily, money is one of the problems I don't have, so I drink it anyway. I only started drinking vodka about fifty years ago. When I was a mundane, we didn't get vodka in Holland, and in my first decades as a vampire, I was simply unable to consume any other beverage than blood. The waitress comes back with my drink. I have a small sip. Man, this stuff is good! AB always brings that little extra fruitiness, and the negative makes it slightly stronger than its positive equivalent. The vodka in it just perfects the drink.
I take another sip and look around. I recognize a few faces. A group of werewolves is playing cards to my left, constantly accusing one another of cheating. They're savages, but in a way, I can appreciate that. They don't pretend to be anything they're not, and they don't play mind games. I'm not sure if that's because they don't like it or because they're not smart enough for it, though. In the booth just across them, I see a two fairies. I have no idea what they're doing, and I probably don't want to know either. Maybe that's why I don't like them. Their beauty is too surreal, and unlike werewolves, they do nothing but trying to manipulate people and playing mind games. To their left, I see a mixed group of two warlocks and three vampires. I know I should recognize the vampires, but honestly, I don't. The Chicago clan is huge, and I only know the power players, like Adele and Reagan. The warlocks are evenly unfamiliar to me, though that's less of a surprise. Even though I don't have anything specific against warlocks, I don't talk to them very often, except for when one of them throws a good party. And finally, in the booth all they way in the far left corner, I see a lone shadowhunter. I'm kind of relieved I'm not the only loner in this place, and like me, he looks angry. I faintly recognize him, he's one of the younger generation from the Insitute. I take another look at him, more careful this time. He has dark hair, styled so it all comes together just on the right of his forehead. His dark eyes are emphasized by just a little bit mascara, and his delicate lips are a shade of pink that I would usually hate, but it looks good on him. It completes him. He is pretty. I like that. Even though I've never actually fallen in love with a man, I can appreciate the tender beauty that some men seem to possess. This boy is one of those men.
The boy looks at me, and I quickly look away, not wanting him to know I've been staring at him. He seems to consider something, but then puts his phone away and actually comes my way. I notice now he's tall. Probably about as tall as me, maybe even taller. Did he see me looking at him after all? I don't think so. He probably wants to ask something about the vampire child who got killed. His look is almost guilty as he walks over to me, as if he's about to do something he actually doesn't really want to do. It's endearing, I've never seen that look on a shadowhunter. Usually, they just come, get what they want, no matter the cost, and leave. I guess this boy is just not like any other shadowhunters. He slides into the couch across me, and looking at me, he starts to speak. His voice is melodious, not the harsh speech I'm used to with shadowhunters. His question isn't really surprising. “Hi. Hate to interrupt your breakfast, but I thought you might be able to answer some questions for me. I’m Kaelen Dempsey with the Chicago Institute, and I was wondering if you’re in any way affiliated with Adele Perdue.”
I think it's nice of him to at least let me know he would've preferred to just let me be. Most of them don't bother. Hey, it's not like we have feelings, right? And that name. Kaelen Dempsey. Yeah, I've definitely seen him before. I remember one time, about seven and a half year ago, shortly after I moved to Chicago, when the Enclave came to the warehouse for some negotiations. I don't remember why anymore, just that Adele wanted me to be there to get to know the shadowhunters of the Chicago Institute. There were about five adult shadowhunters, including Casper Lightwood, head of the Institute. There also were two boys with them, one was Lightwood's son, and the other one I didn't know. I remember Casper scolding him once, even though it had been the Lightwood child who had made the noise. I also remeber feeling sorry for that poor kid, wondering who he was. Well, now I knew. This was that boy.
Despite my good first impression of him, I am still angry. I'm about to give a snappy response when I calm myself down. Easy, Constantine, this boy's done nothing wrong. You're mad at Reagan, not at him. I inhale deeply, and answer: "Yes, I'm affiliated to Adele Perdue. She's my boss, and probably the only decent Child of the Night in this entire city. And whatever you want, she didn't do it. She wouldn't. But if you want me to answer any questions, I'm always happy to serve."
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Post by South on Aug 23, 2012 15:22:14 GMT -5
life's too short to even care at all, woah i'm coming up now, coming up now, out of the blue these zombies in the park they're looking for my heart, woah a dark world aches for a splash of the sun, woah "Yes, I'm affiliated to Adele Perdue. She's my boss, and probably the only decent Child of the Night in this entire city. And whatever you want, she didn't do it. She wouldn't," the copper-haired vampire says, eyeing me with something I can't differentiate between mistrust and defensiveness. Adele Perdue's done wonders for the upholding of the Accords in Chicago, I know that much from being dragged along to boring, semantic meetings from the time I was a child, and in the past few years I've even had some dealings with her myself. She's a decent... well, not a decent human being, but you get the picture, and I never actually thought that she was pulling the strings behind whatever's been going on. As far as I know, though, the boy across the booth from me can't read minds, and that impression is probably how I came across.
"No, no, I didn't mean to imply that I thought... I was just asking... Hell, my brother's much better at this diplomacy stuff than I am," I stammer, glaring daggers into my half-empty coffee mug. While Riley is much more quiet and unassuming than I he has a way with words when he chooses to use them, always a soothing balm that can lower a haze of calm over a situation whereas I only seem to be able to take the anger and indignation that sears beneath my skin and put it out into the world, things like patience and undesrstanding a concept I can't understand. "I've been around Adele wince I was a little kid, I know what she's like. WIP WIP WIP if i could find a way to see this straight i'd run away to some fortune that i should have found by now and so i run after the things they say will restore me restore life the way it should be i'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
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