Ah, blasted introduction to the humanities. Like he even needed an introduction to the humanities! With an irritable huff, Rujiel began to walk back to his dorm intent on doing something more productive than wasting away in that lecture hall. The moment the mic was turned off, Rujiel was out of there, not even taking the time to say 'goodbye' to the rest of his friends. He knew it was standoffish and, really, quite out of character for him, but Rujiel could care less because -

"HEY! Where ya headin'?"

Rujiel flinched and back-pedaled, turning around a bit to look at his roommate, who was giving him a shit-eating grin. Uh-oh, that didn't look good. "Um, out?"

His roommate wasn't known for beating around the bush. "You headin' up north towards San Jose?" the other male asked, slinging an amiable arm around Rujiel, herding him towards the dorms.

A quick shake of the head. "Nooo~ I'm going the opposite direction, sorry."

The other wilted a bit, before letting go when the passed by Rujiel's junky old Toyota Camry. "Mkay... Comin' up for dinner first?"

At that, Rujiel gave a small smile. "Sorry. I'm going to this cafe. One of the professors in the Creative Writing department suggested I check it out"

The other boy was walking away already, but threw a smirk over his back. "Jus' don' do nuthin' I wouldn' do, yeah?" he yelled back before going into the building to, presumably, get himself cleaned up for dinner.

Rujiel smiled and stuck his key into the car door, only to sigh and struggle for the next minute and a half to get the temperamental thing to open. Ah, well, just one more hurdle in his quest to get some Krupnikas, right?

The trip down to the city took a bit less than an hour, but traffic wasn't too bad. Parking was a bit of a disaster but, eventually, the perfect spot was waiting for him. Rujiel made sure to lock his car (and put a lock on the wheel and a lock on the tire; never could be too careful, especially when he still remembered what happened in Poland) before heading off to look for the cafe. "Let's see... 23rd and Lark... 23rd and Lark..."

Yay for iPhones! The cafe was right in front of him and Rujiel nearly squealed at the thought of good, tasty honey liqueur. It was the whole reason why he was here; well, that and the professor's suggestion, but more so for the Krupnikas.

The banks in England were at fault. Or so they said. Maybe it was the banks in Finland or some such up in the Nordic area of Europe. Whatever it was, it had killed the economy. People were tightening their belts everywhere, calling in to cancel their accounts constantly. Cell phones were, after all, a -luxury- item. But...every person that successfully got by her up-sell, got past her offer of discounts of extras...each one was a black mark on her record. And if they ever overtook her number of sales...she would be fired. The thoughts tumbled and twirled through her mind, each one just a bit more dire than the last.

So many things going wrong with the world, and she was just one of the many cogs within it.

Expendable.

Disposable.

Like everyone else calling in trying to weasel their way out of their phone accounts. Like everyone else out there in the rain. She stared out the window quietly, watching the people go by and waiting for her headset to beep her to attention and signal to her that it was time to begin another call. And so it did.

She began the call flawlessly, rattling off her caller ID number and the thousand myriad things that policy dictated she had to say at the beginning of the call. And that unspoken policy dictated she say just a little bit too quickly to follow easily before slowing down again to introduce herself and begin the difficult task of talking someone out of doing something they wanted to do, sweet talking them into doing precisely the opposite. "My name is Morgan, how may I help you?"

His eyes widened. The blue shining brilliantly in the flash of lightning, then seeming to absorb all the light from around him until they were dark orbs. Almost threatening.

"Where did you get that? Why do you have that here?"

His voice was calm. Smooth, controlled. But something gave away his cool. It was not his eyes. Was not the cold collection of his voice, but a quiver in his hand. The mug of coffee, near empty, was raised to his lips. He had been hiding the barest hint of a smile at her excitement, at how she immediately looked to her books for correlations and answers. But his hand had shaken. That had not happened since -

"Don't worry son, everything will be all right."

'My fathers voice had been so soothing'

I knew that he was right. This would be just fine.

"Just pick it up and hold it steady. That's all you have to do. Can you do that for me Creed?"

Of course I can . . . it feels cold in my hand. I like the way light glints off of it. But Mom said I can't play with these . . .

"Good boy, now take it and press it against your hand. Gently now gently, no need for pain yet little buddy."

It was really cold. And it felt strange against my skin. There were no jagged lines like in the ones mom used with the beef. It was totally smooth, straight. And Dad says it's okay so why not?

"Now slowly, very slowly drag it across your palm."

I wanted to, I really did. He said it would be okay but I remember that Mom said not to do it because I might hurt myself.

'So my hand started to shake. I can see it now, I am standing next to myself. My hand quivered for just a moment and I dropped it. I dropped his tool. And then his eyes went dark'

Immediately he set the cup down, it made a hollow sound when it touched the tabletop. He took a deep breath and hid his hands into his lap. But his eyes re-focused onto Jessica, and he awaited his answer.

Carefully, she put the flower back into the book, closing it firmly between the pages. When her voice spoke, it was hard and even, a look mirrored in her brown eyes. She spoke slowly, with careful attention to volume, lest her words be heard by any other than Creed.

"Because they left one at my house too. When they took my father."

She gripped the book in her hands and then tried to ease the tension that had sprang up all over her body. She slipped the lock on the book back into place, hearing a satisfying click, before putting it back in her bag. When she straightened up, she was looking at Creed again, focused.

"It's their calling card. Some vampires like to leave clues. Eternal life is dull to them, so they'll snatch someone instead of killing them. Someone with family to look for them. They think it's a game."

She had to stop a moment and slow her breath, which had has been picking up as her anger rose. After she felt calm enough, she continued.

"I'm not entirely sure of the significance of that particular flower. Perhaps they are alluding to something. Eternal sleep...perhaps they mean to change the people they take? I am not sure. But I intend to find out. That is what you want to do, right? Find out what happened to him? Find him?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Miss Audra, tell me, do you fear the rain?"

Her sharp green eyes were bearing into the brunette's dark ones again, not blinking, and a smile curved the edges of her lips. There was almost mischief there, or mystery. Intrigue, dancing behind the glassy surface of those ever-enchanting eyes. She leaned forward, reaching to touch her hand to the girl's in a fluid movement. If the girl didn't pull away, she would be surprised how warm the other's skin felt on hers, how soft.

"I know of a place you might like. I would like to take you there. Would you like to go?" she said, her voice barely a breath above a whisper. And those eyes. The way the flashes of light hit them made them seem so very alive, glittering like emeralds amidst the pale cream silk of her face.

Audra's attention drew back to Sanaii. "The rain?" They locked eyes again, the jade eyes sucking her in, almost hypnotic in their intensity; the hint of something lurking in the depths of all that green intrigued her, but also made her nervous. “Not really, only when it rains when the sun is out...that means foxes are getting married and it's best to stay..."

As Sanaii reached out to touch her hand Audra froze, even if she had wanted to pull away she wasn't sure she could have. The warmth emanating from her companion's hand was a bit surprising, and her pale skin was smooth like alabaster.

She was entirely red now, unsure as to the motives of her new acquaintance all Audra could think was Oh god...I'm being spirited away. She was however, able to pull herself out of the hypnotic gaze of Sanaii long enough to form a question.

"Where is this place?"

The blond woman smiled, a gesture that softened her features in the gathering dark. Her hand gave the one beneath a soft squeeze before she stood, sliding her hand underneath to grip Audra's and lead the girl from her chair. She leaned in really close, close enough for the girl to smell her perfume (Was it perfume? No, it was too subtle, too natural to be perfume...), a scent of fresh rain and something else. (But she had come in before the rain, hadn't she?). Her eyes glinted as the lightning flashed again, the storm still in full motion. But above the sounds of the rain drumming the windows, the thunder cracking overhead, the murmurs of the crowd, Sanaii's voice found its way to Audra's ears, if only just barely.

"Not far. We should go quickly though. I don't want people to follow."

'Calling card . . . her father? No, that can not be correct. Her father was also taken? By vampires? No. No! Why would vampires have taken our parents. Why leave a poppy flower behind? If they really meant to "turn" my father into one of their kind . . . Why am I even considering this?'

Lines creased his forehead when he squeezed his eyes shut. Pressing his fingers into the sides of his skull, he acted as if he could massage his brain to quell the stress. In a moment, he had his hands in his lap, his back straight with his eyes forward.

"So. You believe that Vampires are kidnapping men who have fathered children with the intent to make them one of their own, and that they leave behind a hint to their intentions in the form of a flower?"

No accusation was present. No degrading tone. There really was no tone at all, at least not any changes in it. Clear cut words, factually clipped consonants. These are what he spoke. No hint of even the slightest care.

'They could have easily stole into my home in Wales. We rarely lock the doors, and the police said there was no strange evidence. They could have strolled in, picked him up from his sleep. No. He would have gone willingly with them. But this is just an option. She has shown no evidence to prove her hypothesis. Option one is Vampires. I will have to compile a list, graph it out. And research. Look through my books and see if anything like this has been attempted before. Yes, that is a good plan. First things first though, press her for information.'

"Not only men."

She sighed, placing a palm to her forehead, leaning heavily against the table. She glanced back up at him, her brow furrowed slightly. His demeanor seemed different. Cold. Had she angered him? She frowned slightly, but pressed on. He had wanted to know, and if the information was not to his liking, well, there was nothing to be done about that.

"It's not just fathers that they take, either. I'm not sure what the pattern is, if there is one. I'm not sure why a flower. But I know some of them have shown this pattern before. I'm just going on what I've gathered so far."

She straightened up, folding her arms on the table. She looked suddenly tired, as if the conversation had taken a lot out of her. Her eyes fluttered closed, still seeing flashes of light from the storm outside. She took a moment of silence to gather her thoughts and contain her feelings. Opening her eyes, she chose to look at the conditions outside, at people with umbrellas and newspapers over their heads. The lights were misty in the rain, hazing slightly. The sky was already as dark as night, even though she knew it couldn't be past four. But evening was approaching. She would have to end this soon.

"I'll be honest. I didn't have much intent to find out all the gritty details. I didn't plan to pursue this at all. My father is gone, and what have I to do about it? Even if I found him, I could not hope to save him. Assuming he hasn't already been changed. Nobody would believe me, so nobody would help me."

She actually stopped to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. Her face was surprisingly calm, so the moisture came as a surprise to her. Gazing at the dampened spot on her fingertips, she continued.

"You're the first person to actually believe me about these things. And the only reason I am telling you this is because I think you should get that chance. If you want to pursue this, if you want to find your father, or even if you just want to know more about them. That's up to you. I've told you what I know. So what are you going to do?"

Another phonecall closed, another one that she'd just barely managed to squeak into the lowest level plan they had. It was better than a total loss, but...too many of those and her conversion rate would start to slip. Although it was technically better to get them onto a plan, any plan, the way the computer system was set up, it took into account two things. Level of keeps versus level of drops, and level of high plans versus level of low plans.

Her retention rate was exemplary--she only had two or three people a shift insist on entirely dropping their plans. But her plan rate was slipping, the number of people on lower level plans slowly creeping higher and higher. Even though it was better for the company to keep her retention rate high and worry about her plan rate as a secondary thing, her job hinged on keeping -both- high. At this rate, she'd have to start dropping people entirely instead of sweet talking them onto lower rate plans.

And frankly, that felt like cheating. It was bad for the -company-, and she needed to earn the company lots of money to make sure the little telemarketing department wasn't downsized. But at the same time, big whoop if the department got downsized after she was fired for slipping below minimum on her plan rate.

Morgan spent the next call focusing on getting a higher level plan out of her call, and wound up having to buzz for a supervisor. The customer wanted to complain about her 'hard sell tactics' to her boss and, as most angry people did when given the semi-anonymity of a telephone, use it as an excuse to be the most vitriolic person in existence and campaign to get her fired. Big deal. Of -course- she used hard sell tactics. They were ingrained, drilled into her head, and trained in since she'd started this job....years ago. However long ago. Years ago.

More little people scurried to and fro outside in the rain, and she glanced up at the clock that hung tauntingly over all of the little partitioned cubbies. Not even proper cubicles, just long tables in rows with halved cubicle walls set on top of them to mark off each individual 'area'.

Not that they were allowed to personalize them. Not even posting up a crib sheet of one's favourite script--the walls had to be pristine and impersonal, unadorned and un-specialized. Supposedly it had to do with the high turnover rate, the number of people that would just never come back after the abuse that they took at work.

What -was- it about people and thinking that someone doing their job was an excuse to treat them like the scum of the earth? People who worked in telemarketing were reviled as pests, as people who -delighted- in causing a disturbance and a disruption when all they were trying to do was make an honest living, same as everyone else.

She sighed quietly, shaking her head and turning back to the screen, waiting for the next account to pop up, the next call to come in. It would be five o'clock soon enough. She'd go home, feign a smile, fake being normal, and maybe she'd get an idea for a book again...

She was up before she could fully understand what was going on, the warm hand having pulled her from the safety of the chair. Sanaii's smile was friendly, but didn't comfort the growing sense of discomfort Audra was feeling in the pit of her stomach. She reached out with her other hand and was able to grab her coat before being led away from the chair.

This has gone from intriguing to plain weird. She thought as the scent of...something caught her attention. If it were perfume it had long since worn down, mingled with the wearers skin, was it her companions?. The flash of lightning illuminated Sanaii's eyes. I'm really getting spirited away...no one will ever find me...

Audra looked around the room, hoping to catch the attentions of any nearby customers who may remember her when the police showed up days from now, when she would turn into a missing persons case.

Sanaii's whisper met Audra's ear, she wondered how far not far was. And, why didn't she want others to follow? She could only nod as she was led off.

"Ask questions. That is what I am going to do. I need to know everything that you do. Everything. How many cases have you found? What are the dates, places? how long has this been going on? Why did you not pursue any leads? Do you have files or know where I can get them? Should I write this down for you?"

He watched her eyes droop close and he glanced at the time. They had been here a while. Almost too long for his liking.

'If I stay in one place too long people will start to recognize me, put my name to my face. And that is how I get caught.'

Creed pushed his cup aside and looked her in the eyes once more.

"Can we go somewhere else for this? Or would you rather meet at a different time?"

From his voice it was obvious that he would rather discuss this now, but manners dictated him into asking her preference.

Sanaii cut their course through the mass of people, finding the door quickly. With the other girl's hand still loosely held in hers, she threw a glance behind her at the girl, offering her a comforting smile.

"Don't look so nervous. It'll be fine. It's just a little rain," she said with a joking smile.

They left the cafe, the ring of the bell almost completely enveloped by the chatter of everyone still inside the cozy, dry warmth of the building. The first gust of cold, damp air hit her face and she smiled, stopping just a few steps outside the door so Audra could catch up.

"Stay close now. You never know who or what is about when the sky goes dark..." she whispered, giving the girl's hand a quick squeeze before moving forward into the storm.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sighed, rubbing her temple a little. The storm outside was causing the shadows the stretch; what little light remaining would not last at this rate.

"Everything? There isn't enough time for that," she said, throwing a glance out the window, where the storm was still raging, "Listen...it's late. I have to get things done before it gets too dark. Things need preparing. We should meet tomorrow. We can go over things then."

She was back into her bag, pulling out a notebook and ripping a sheet out. She jotted down a number, folded the paper, and slid it across the table to Creed. In a fluid motion, she slid her chair back, unhooked her bag from the leg, stood up, and slung the bag over her shoulder.

"There, you can get a hold of me tomorrow with that number. Don't call any earlier than two though; I won't answer. I'll be occupied. Any time after is fine. We can set up a place to meet then. I need to go now."

She moved away from the table, glancing around the room. She needed to know where they were. As her eyes swept the room, she didn't notice anything amiss, so she moved to leave, throwing a glance back at Creed.

((Jessica roll Perception: 5 5 3
Reroll Tens: None
Successes: None

Result: Jessica does not take notice of anything.))

Five o'clock. Finally. Morgan turned off her headset and hung up the earpiece, sighing softly as she gathered her things together. Her co-workers talked to her briefly, but only as much as they had to to keep up the appearances of being polite people. Moderately interested in her life, just as much as they had to be and precious little more.

She tucked her papers into her folder and slung her bag over her shoulder, heading out to head to the bus stop to head home. She trudged through the rain, wishing for the thousandth time that she had a car that she could simply drive. But her job was right on a bus route, and her home was right on a bus route. She was too cheap to get a car and she knew it. Even if she wanted one when it was raining.

She'd go home and work on her book. If she could think of anything to work on it with. Which she probably wouldn't. The downward spiral of negative thinking sucked her down and fuelled itself.

As Audra was led out of the cafe fear started to turn into a sort of resolution. She started to accept she would likely never be seen alive again by her fellow man, and would likely never enter that café again. Well I always wanted to go out in the search for mythical beings...

Sanaii's comment about the rain made a small smirk form on Audra's face. She honestly thinks I'm worried about the rain. she thought, finding the whole scene to be somewhat humorous. With her free hand she was able to pull her jacket mostly on, though one sleeve hung limply from her side, as though the limb that should reside in it was missing.

They passed through the cafe's entrance and into the storm. The cool air felt refreshing compared to the warm, somewhat stuffy air of the café, and the sound of rain hitting the pavement was a soothing replacement to the chatter of peoples voices. Sanaii stopped for a moment, a smile on her face as the rain fell before her. The cold did Sanaii good; her pale skin almost seemed to glow.

Sanaii's whispered message sent a tingle up Audra's spine. It was a familiar warning, one she had been told when she was younger, though now it seemed so much more dire. As Sanaii squeezed her hand Audra squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that wherever they were going they would go together.

How far down the rabbit hole will I go? Audra contemplated as she followed Sanaii out into the rain.

She led the girl down the streets, the rain soon soaking them. She glanced back at Audra and chuckled. It looked like she had tried to to pull her coat on. Normally Sanaii would have stopped to let her do so, but the rain was falling too hard to make a difference. Luckily it wasn't far, and they'd have a chance to dry off when they got there.

As they made their way down a busy street, she caught a glimpse of a young woman in the rain, leaving a building that Sanaii herself had never bothered to go into. She was fairly certain it was some telemarketing headquarters or some such. It was the woman though, not the building, that intrigued her. There was nothing particularly outstanding about her; she was fairly average in appearance. But something caught her, nonetheless. She paused a moment to gaze at her before looking away, hurrying herself and her companion through the rain to a sheltered doorstep.

The door itself was tiny and dark, barely noticeable amongst all the other cramped buildings. She rapped sharply twice on the heavy wood. On the other side, an eye peeped through the peephole to confirm who it was. The door opened with remarkable ease and a young man admitted them, inclining his head politely as he held the door open. He was of average height and weight, with messy black hair and a tattoo at the corner of his eye. His eyes were a warm hazel and lit up with the rest of his face when he smiled. He held his hand out to Audra, showing his perfect teeth in a welcoming smile.

"May I take your coat, madam?"

She left. Quickly too. Did I strike a chord? Did I offend her?

'Why does it matter if I offended her? She is just a person, a tool to get where I need to be.'

No . . . she is more than that and i know it.

'Nothing but a pretty little thing with knowledge that I seek. I know how to get that information.'

Yes, I can ask her questions.

'DO NOT PRETEND OTHERWISE!'

There . . . are other ways to find this out. No need to -

'To what? To hurt her little body? To mark her with pain?'

Yes . . . I do not have to . . . do that. Not to her.

'And why not? Why hold back from this one?'

She is a key, I do not wish to break her . . .

'Do not act like it does not bring pleasure.'

Stop.
----------

Creed sat at the table stunned for a moment, lost in thought. But then he suddenly stood up, swept up his coat and dropped a dollar into the tip jar on his way out. The rain rolled off of his leather jacket as he pounded the pavement, the sound of his footfalls silenced by the droning of drops of water splashing onto the ground. is scowling mouth darkened his demeanor, and his pointy hair was losing its gravity defying abilities. He looked a bit of a mess.

On his way to his car, he passed a girl who was waiting at a bus stop. For a moment his eyes deceived him and he swore that she was glowing a yellowish color. but then the car driving by passed and he realized that she was simply illuminated by the head lights. Still, this simple thing twisted his scowl into a smile, and he gave her a wave from across the street as he waited for the crosswalk to signal his way.

Morgan was looking around aimlessly, studying the people as they passed and wondering about their stories. Waiting for the bus, she tried to think of a way to work on her book, tried to think of any way to expand the story. She could see the main character now, the terror in his eyes as he panted for breath without even realizing that his frenzied run had brought him straight back to the bridge that had begun it all...

And she didn't have the foggiest clue what he'd do next. Panic of course, but she couldn't just write a playbill and leave it to an actor to do the panicking for her. Into the first chapter, still just touching on the memories and flashbacks that would eventually knit together to form a sort of prologue...and she'd totally stalled.

She sighed sadly, then knitted her eyebrows together in confusion when a man she'd never seen before waved to her. She waved back timidly, not quite sure if he'd mistaken her for someone else or what. But...she'd find out in a moment, anyway.

She must have looked a sight. Half-jogging through the rain trying to keep up with Sanaii's pace, her soaked hair plastered against her face, jacket clinging to her. This...would make a good opening for a book.
Audra had since swallowed the lump of fear in her throat and was working on the assumption that if she indeed survived this encounter that it might bring her closer to her ultimate goals.

She saw the overhang before she noticed the door, grateful to be out of the rain. As Sanaii knocked on the foreboding black door Audra tried to shake the rivulets of water off her jacket before they soaked it further. She jumped slightly as the door opened in front of her, a doorman inviting them in. Well...no turning back now... Half hiding behind Sanaii she passed through the threshold.

Inside she paused to view her surroundings, it seemed normal enough, and accept for the tattoo on his face the doorman seemed human enough as well. Maybe she didn't have anything to fear after all? The doorman asked Audra for her coat, and she gratefully obliged him, peeling the now utterly soaked material off of her arms she sheepishly held the thing out for the doorman to take. "Sorry...it's a bit wet... "

The doorman accepted it with a smile, folding the sopping mess over his arm and gesturing for them to proceed.

Sanaii, still loosely holding Audra's hand, led her down the hallway. The floor was made of long, mahogany planks which showed their age, and the walls were papered, a soft mocha color with wood paneling halfway down. Antique candle holders curved elegantly away from the wall, displaying the burning candles in sets of three. It smelled delicious in here, like every kind of baked good was gently wafting its scent beneath the doorways. And there were many doorways. Nothing particularly special, just standard wooden doors. But oh, the smells!

Sanaii selected the fifth on the left and held it open for Audra. From just outside the door, it could be seen that light was glowing in the form of many candles. The air smelled mouth-wateringly delicious (Fresh baked blueberry pie, oh!), and somewhere, people were playing music.

"After you," she said with a glowing smile.

'Oh great, now I have gone and scared the poor girl. I must look a sight. Ah well, what can I do?'

The lights changed and the walk signal turned on, so he stepped off of the curb, a new feather in his step. He approached the girl with a smile. His grin seemed to express how polite he would be, how kind he was. It was disarming, and the charm was there. His baritone voice lilted gently at the end of each word, accenting the vowels just so, and with a hint of cutting off the consonants. He definitely was not from here originally, but his accent was so strange it was hard to tell where he came from. Like a mix of different ones.

"Excuse me miss, I apologize if I alarmed you. I thought that I had seen something .. . a certain glow. But it turned out to be nothing. And of course I am sure you saw me staring at you, so I thought it would be kind of me to wave, so that you would not find me creepy. But of course then you thought I was creepy so I thought I would talk to you so that I would not be and now I am simply rambling and wasting your time. "

His voice had been enthusiastic and much like his brilliant blue eyes and smile: disarming. But then it trailed off at the end and he looked at his feet embarrassed before glancing up to her eyes once more, a sheepish half-grin on his face. His hair was now completely soaked and lay flat on his head, dripping more water that was pelting him onto his face. It was almost like a puppy looking hopefully at his owner, wanting a treat or to be loved.

She had to smile for the young man, understanding all too well how it must feel to find one's self rambling. Although she was a terror on the phones--sometimes she felt like everyone in America must know her voice--she had trouble speaking to people sometimes, too. She needed a script, needed the barrier of the telephone between her and other people to feel confident.

"It's okay..." She laughed nervously, tucking a lock of her own bedraggled hair behind her ear. It actually looked better half-drenched than it did normally, the weight of the water pulling down any flyaways and stopping the usual amount of frizz.

"Unusual to want to talk to a stranger standing in the rain unless it's a movie, though..." She was trying to be clever and draw him in deeper to a conversation, but it was also something that she genuinely believed. Today was -already- getting strange for her.

"Well then, can we please pretend it is a movie? I can play the charming, uncertain gentleman, and you the pretty unassuming lady?"

He could not help himself, she had left that right open so he stepped right in. Glancing around he saw the bus shelter she was standing near, and stepped in gesturing for her to do the same. His hand brushed through his hair, and he brought it down swiftly to shake the excess liquid off.

'Damn it. How am I supposed to play prince charming when I look like hell? Ah well, I will simply rely on my wit and good looks. Of the many things I can thank my mother for, it is my appearance. And of course my father, for not scarring that part.'

His gaze fell to his left hand, which had thin white lines running down it from the sleeve of his coat. He slipped it into his pocket for safe hiding.

'It would scare the Christianity out of this girl if she saw the rest of me. Thankfully I will not have to deal with that. If either of us ends up without clothes, it will not be me. And she would not enjoy it. Hm . . . I usually leave thoughts like this for later, once I know they have fallen into my web. I must be getting sloppy.

Pretend...it was a movie? As in let themselves fall into the trap of playing pretend and pretending that nothing was strange and everything was happy and good and all strangers were good people out to get to know you and go on some happy adventure?

Like hell. With her luck, it was a movie by David Fincher.

But she followed him into the bus shelter, earning protection from the rain at the cost of being inside what became a wind tunnel every time a car drove by too close too quickly. She smiled nervously, a bit surprised that he seemed to think of her as pretty. She was on the mildly nicer side of average by her own estimations, so his all but flirting with her was strange and unusual.

Then again, it also meant that once he had circumvented her nerves, she would be easy 'prey' if he was indeed like the spider that she had no way of knowing he was mentally comparing himself to.

"Are you...waiting on the number twenty three, then?" It was the most pathetic attempt at a conversation starter ever, but...she was trying.

She noted the hand go into his pocket, but she didn't think anything strange of it. In her normal, average, and bland little world, little actions like that didn't mean anything, didn't matter at all.

"Well . . . no. I um, I have a car. It is actually parked about a block back the way I was coming from. But I was mildly upset and ended up just leaving the business I was at and walking away. Then I saw you and, well, you know the story."

He smiled at her once more, but then looked at his feet awkwardly.

"Um, if I am bothering you, please tell me. I can leave . . ."

His sentence trailed off, letting her know that it was up to her. But it was plain in his face that he did indeed wish to stay and speak with her.

She felt like Alice, only her rabbit hole was a decadently decorated hallway that would put most opera houses to shame. it's beautiful in here... The candlelit hall was a tunnel of mocha, the light diffusing the space, causing sharp edges to blur giving the space a dreamlike quality. Not to mention the place smelled divine, like a bakery and archives rolled into one delicious package.

And the doors! Each door hiding unknown wonders beyond its mahogany portals. There is no way this place is a standard building it can't be possible. Audra looked around her eyes glistening in open delight.

Sanaii stopped suddenly, causing Audra to stop mid stride, struggling to keep from stumbling over herself. The fair-haired young woman held open the door, the flickering light of candles spilled out onto the hardwood flooring stopping short of the walls. And again, the smells! Well if she's luring you into a trap to eat you, or use you in some ritual there are worse places it could be done.

She smiled meekly as she was invited to enter the room. Audra eyed Sanaii a moment, trying to determine if there was any last minute malice present before cautiously stepping into the room. “What is this place?