((Oh god I love that Bananaman OC. And this one is just Carla and Kaled for now - no Carmen >.>))


A disgusted sneer spread across Clara's face at the drunken imbecile who had opened the door and immediately attempted to flirt with her, poorly, before passing out in the puddle made by the beer he had been holding, coating her senses with the alcoholic scent. But he had invited her inside before he switched off for the night and so she stepped over his body, trying to not even brush against the yellow monstrosity he was wearing.

This music is too loud. And the house reeks of booze - it's clogging my nose. God, how can Carmen stand this?

Gingerly she edged around the main crowd, scanning the writhing bodies for her prize. Any one of these idiots would probably come with her if she so much as glanced at them, but she was looking for one particular human. The blonde woman from the bar - Becca, if she remembered correctly - was supposed to be here at the party. It was the only reason she agreed to go, even if she recognized that the plan itself was relatively intelligent. Clara could never give her sister that kind of credit.

I can't believe I was human once. Thank the stars that I'm not anymore - they're such annoying creatures!

A man had tried to drag her onto the dance floor, into the middle of the hot and sweaty masses, by wrapping his arms around her waist, fingers splayed on her hips. A lot of willpower went into not snapping his bones into splinters when she removed his hands, a strained smile on her face and a rejection on her lips when she saw her - the blonde from the diner dancing, right in the middle of the throng.

It was a blessing and a curse that Clara spotted her because now she had to somehow get through the crowd to her and the most immediate option was about to be placing his grubby paws on her lower back. Mentally she sighed, resigning her way to the quickest route.

"I'd love to dance with you!"

I'd rather have a stake shoved through my chest.

~*~

Irritation brushed against Kaled's consciousness, asking for permission settle down in his mind, wanting to grip into his grey tissue. The boy was clearly frightened though of what he couldn't see, not even with a little enhancement of his vision. There was nothing lurking in the shadows of the graveyard - he didn't glance to the Whispering Wood. He forest was an enigma even to him, always seeming to twist into impossible shapes in the corner of his eye and yet, when looked at straight on, proved to be nothing more than trees and leaves and bushes. He didn't trust the wood - and he had the suspicion that the wood didn't trust him either.

The young man had pressed his back up against the stone wall directly beside the door way, one hand gripping the fabric above his heart as if he were trying to keep it form beating out of his chest. For a second Kaled had the desire to make it a reality, to watch as the organ broke bone and tore through flesh to land at his feet, throbbing and still pumping out blood. But it would be a waste of meat, and the solid wood flooring would have a stain that would be a pain to remove even with magic.

The stranger spoke, voice laced and absolutely dripping with fear, spouting apologies and expletives as he attempted to calm himself.

This is an unexpected surprise. Why have you sent him to me? I know not if he's suitable for your tastes - he feels... wrong, somehow. Strange. Unlike the other mortals that have burst through my door.

Quietly Kaled closed the door, making sure the lock clicked into place before moving down a side hallway that would lead directly to the private part of the church, the part where the congregation of the day did not dream to enter without express permission of their priest - without his allowance. He paused before passing through the other doorway, hands clasped in front of him.

"This way. I have some hot water in the kettle and tea in the cupboard. Let's get something warm in you, shall we?"

Gesturing for the boy to follow him Kaled passed through the door way and into the kitchen, removing the kettle from the stove and pouring some of the contents into a mug nicked from one of the cupboards. The porcelain was old, stained blue and green in a gradient that had begun to fade with the passage of time. It had been a gift from one of his flock of sheep - such an apt description - which was the only reason he had the cup in his possession.

Two teas were placed on the table, one for himself and one for the boy should he decide to join him. Which was the likeliest possibility. The child wouldn't dare to step foot back out into the darkness, not with the desperate way he tried to force his way inside and into the only lit building for a ways around. It was also a likely possibility due to the subtle nudging Kaled had done, a gentle brush of suggestion.

Taking the seat facing the doorway, he waited.