Molly Toombs
After last Friday night and everything
that had happened, Molly has been doing her best to lay low and
recover. She hadn't been physically harmed or damaged, no no. The
blood-wizard hadn't a chance to do anyone any harm. The red-haired
woman with the gun and her stabby friend had seen to that.
But still, seeing that much horror when you were still so new to the other side of Reality took a toll on a person.
Molly's
solution has been to drown herself in work. She picked up some extra
shifts, and has been keeping busy to keep her mind occupied. She needed
to do this to keep her mind from drifting back and analyzing that night
and everything that had transpired. She still caught herself shaking a
little while holding a coffee mug or sitting still for too long on the
bus. She hadn't been sleeping well-- her nights having been plagued
with nightmares and fits of unrest, not trusting her own walls to do a
sufficent job of keeping her safe.
So, of course, tonight when
Molly got off work, she looked exhausted. It was just past ten o'
clock, and Molly was at some intersection downtown between one tall city
building and another tall complex full of offices for some bank or
another. Her hair was half-up, and she had her tote bag on over her
shoulder as usual. She wore maroon colored scrubs and a pair of simple
white tennis shoes.
Here at this intersection she stood, pressing
the button at the crosswalk once, then straightening up to stand and
wait for the lights to change. She yawned and tipped her head from one
side to the next to pop her neck. She would be terribly uninteresting a
pedestrian to anyone who didn't recognize her. For those who did,
though, she just always seemed such a honeypot of promise and interest.
So why not approach her? Why not see what she's up to?
Kragen Kingsmith
Molly
had received her crash course, had her cherry popped if you will. The
blood mage, the necromancer if you will had been her first real steps
into the wider, darker world which suffused and pervaded the mundane,
and now she stood with one foot in, and one foot out.
Ten o'clock
was an auspicious time, men and women of all stripes and creeds were
heading to the bar's, to the clubs, to any place that helped them forget
their own stresses. To a place that helped them escape a world they
have almost no control over, for something a little bit more savoury.
Molly however just wanted to get home and rest, rest so she could come
back tomorrow and forget the horror's once again in the hectic life of
her working world.
But tonight she might be a little delayed, as
the fates might have it. Because across the way pulling through a crowd
as it waited for the lights to turn was another person of interest,
albeit one that Molly has seen barely more then ten minutes in her
entire life.
Dressed in a silk suit the colour of old dried blood,
Kragen Kingsmith cut a curious, and startling image as always, his hair
askew and his eyes intense grey he stopped at the sidewalk with a
cigarette between his lips and stared across. It was as the light just
turned green, allowing them to cross towards each other that perhaps
their eyes meet a subtle little smirk rising upon Kragen's lips as he
took that first step off the curb and into the street, the look saying
to Molly. 'Why hello there.'
Molly Toombs
The
light had turned green, but this intersection was a funny one. Molly
had arrived in not enough time to cross the direction she wished to go,
and had to wait for the lights to cycle through one more round before
she would be allowed to cross.
This meant that when Kragen came
across the street on his own crosswalk, it would not be to pass Molly as
she went by, but rather to come up to the corner of the block where she
stood still. This brought him to her while she had nothing to do but
stand and wait. She had noticed him because it was cautious habit to
look and see who was coming her way when the lights changed at an
intersection. It was always a gamble that one of the transients who
floated around the city's heart would come up and ask her for money or a
cigarette, or simply tell her that she was pretty when all they wanted
to do was toy with the idea of grabbing her breasts and risk getting
cuffed for doing so.
It wasn't a dust-caked homeless person that
caught her attention, though. Rather, it was a gentleman looking to be
somewhere in his mid to late forties, dressed in a fine silk suit of
dark color not too far off from the scrubs that Molly wore. They made
eye contact as he stepped off the curb, her clear blue eyes on his pale
gray ones, and he smirked and inclined his head in a silent greeting.
She tipped her chin upward a little, immediately cautious and uncertain
of this man (and rightfully, if you asked her-- guess how lucky she's
been with strangely smooth men in expensive suits lately?) that she
remembered from the bar, and briefly from that patio a few weeks ago.
But,
as courtesy demanded such, she did eventually return his greeting with a
bit of a nod. She'd watch him as he approached, and when he was near
enough she greeted him politely.
"Mr. Kragen, was it? How are you doing tonight?"
Kragen Kingsmith
Kragen
moved with the sauntering gait of a man of confidence, despite the
rumple of his fine suit, the mess of his hair and the stubble like
goatee which framed his face he was still a man who seemed like someone
you just might want to respect..or perhaps avoid.
Molly for her
part waits, watching the man as he approached his swagger carrying him
to her curb before he hopped, yes hopped up onto the curb and snapped
his fingers. "It's Kingsmith actually." He said with a toothy rictus
grin as he stepped towards Molly and came up short by a few feet. A hand
rising to pull the cigarette from between those pearly choppers. "But
by all means Miss Molly, you may call me Kragen." There is a curious bit
of laughter in his eyes as Kragen let a chuckle escape his lips as he
answered her question.
"It's a fine night, a fine night for a
stroll and a fine night to be a Kingsmith if you ask me. I'm sure it's
also a fine night to be one like you. Or at least I couldn't imagine a
reason why it wouldn't be." He gestures towards her as he says these
words his chin inclining downward to look at her without looking down
his nose.
"So tell me, Molly, what marvels are looking forward to this night?"
Molly Toombs
He
corrected her, explained that it was actually Mr. Kingsmith, but she
was welcome to call him by his first name anyway. She nodded to reflect
understanding, and let her eyes hop away from his face to watch the
people who had crossed the street with him disperse-- making sure that
no one was going to linger about to bother either of them.
Kragen said it was a fine night and asked what she was looking forward to.
Another sleepless night and nightmares about tanning racks and hanging bodies,
she thought bitterly. But instead of answering honestly, she adjusted
the tote bag strap as it rested on the shoulder opposite of the hip that
it sat level with, pulling it away from her chest where it cut across
the front of her scrubs and drew more attention to her bust than she
probably intended or cared to correct right now.
"The marvel that
is my bed, actually," she told him somewhat honestly. "I've been
working overtime this week-- a number of the nurses wanted vacation
hours for labor day, so I've been covering for them.
"But I
suppose I should ask, while we wait for this light-- what makes your
night so fine, Kragen?" Because she was curious to know what added the
pep to the older gentleman's step tonight.
Kragen Kingsmith
Kragen's
rictus grin remained poignant and large as Molly spoke of her plans, of
her hopes and dreams for the evening. Such thoughts did not becalm the
man's zeal instead he chuckled and spoke conspiratorially.
"Such a
marvel I am sure." He said tapping the side of his nose before winking
at the younger woman. His hand then shot down, sliding quickly into the
seam of one of his coat pockets and the man produced from its confines
that self same lighter which he lit with a slide of it along his belt.
He held it aloft then between them, his other hand cradling the lighter
like it was something precious as Kragen let Molly watch his eyes if she
did so through the half light of the flame.
"My night is fine
because it is a night where I find myself much like this flame." He
started, his head tilting slightly and slowly to the left. "For this
flame is bright and powerful and full of purpose and intent...to burn,
anything and everything it touches." He says as he holds it closer to
Molly, but still a safe distance.
"And so I said as much, that as
of recent I find myself full of purpose and intent..." He lets something
slide there, something goes unspoken as he righted his gaze and
finished. "What man or woman cannot find themselves so pleased but to be
of their purpose?"
He raised a brow and that rictus grin returned. "I'd love to meet them I really would, it must be a tale they'd tell."
Molly Toombs
The
light changed, and Molly had the opportunity to be on her way. She
could have told him to have a lovely evening, ended the conversation
there, and gone on her way. She'd hoped that Kragen would be a
gentleman enough not to follow her home. Besides, he breathed and she'd
seen him in direct sunlight, so she didn't need to worry about him
slinking along after her and putting teeth into her neck.
However,
this past week enforced what the Undead in her life have been telling
her-- there are so many more monsters, such worse things to be found on
these streets than just vampires alone. Who was to say that Kragen was
not Something Else?
It tired her to think about.
She stayed,
though, because Kragen spoke of his sense of purpose in comparison to
the flame. He said that was what kept him happy and made his night such
a joyous thing for him to live in. She watched him with eyes that were
both curious and suspicious, watching the light of the flame dance and
reflect in Kragen's eyes until it went out and she regained focus,
looked at him with true eye contact once more. Now it was to raise her
eyebrows and press another question upon him.
"I hope that purpose wouldn't be to burn and consume, too. ...Or is it?"
Laurel Hensley
Laurel
Hensley knows Denver by heart. She's a Colorado girl born and bred and
she walks the city with an ease that makes it seem as familiar as lines
on the back of her hand. Normally she finds most of her work on Colfax
and in the shittier areas of town (which is also where she rests her
head, as a side note) but despite what her favorite bail bondsman says,
she doesn't spend every moment of her life working.
Which, by the
way, is not to say that she's not working now. She's just not actively
on the hunt for a person. At the moment, she's making her way down the
sidewalk with a cigarette burning inbetween the fingers of her right
hand. Laurel is a lithe girl, but wiry with the kind of strength that
is deceptive. Her 5'9" frame is clothed in a white tank top underneath a
leather jacket that leaves just enough room underneath to make her
figure less than obvious without seeming bulky on her. A pair of
stonewashed jeans don't do the same; are fitted to long legs and
bottomed off with a pair of walking boots. A little pendent on a chain
is around her neck and she's walking fast enough that her blonde hair is
just barely lifted off her back, a cell phone to her ear.
"No, I
will not fucking hold, Ray. Don't tell me you're putting me on hold, I
know you don't have any calls. Ray, I'm serious, give me a mark—uggh!"
That's a sound of frustration as she stops a few feet away from the
corner Kragen and Molly are at and she looks at her phone like she's
about to chuck the thing across the street.
"Are you fucking
serious?" It seems like she's talking to Ray, even though he's clearly
not on the line at the moment. "Jesus."
Kragen Kingsmith
She
asked that pertinent question, bridging the gap between what he said,
and what he had not. It didn't bother him that she did so, infact it
seemed to elevate his appraisal of her as he straightened ever so
slightly and seemed more curious, and all the more intent upon the
discussion at hand. He chuckled briefly, and his lips formed as if he
might just say 'yes'...but then.
"Ahhh but are we not men dear
Molly?" He asked with a tilt of his head as he drew the lighter to his
side, his other hand gesturing out to the world at large. "And as men
and women, are we not in a sense, children of the flame?" His own brow
rose as he gestured to the buildings.
"We all burn and consume, it
is simply a question of wether we do our fair share. I'm sure you do,
I'm sure that lovely lady over there does as well." He says gesturing to
the cussing bondswoman a few feet away.
"It is part and parcel of
what being man is all about. We do not fear the flame...we embrace it,
both metaphorically and metaphysically." He falls silent at last as his
hands dropped down beside him before he inclined his head curiously
towards Molly.
"Wouldn't you agree?"
Molly Toombs
"I might." Agree, that is.
Molly's
attention was briefly stolen away by the woman swearing angrily at her
phone just a couple of feet away. Her eyebrows knit together in mild
concern and inconvenience-- the expression on her freckled face for the
bounty hunter to see clearly conveyed that Molly found it a little
uncouth to be so loud over a phone call. But, to be fair, she didn't
know who Ray was, and she didn't know what the situation overall was.
So she didn't say anything, and instead looked back to Kragen, who
looked as pleased and interested as a cat who has found a canary with
clipped wings.
"But you didn't really answer the question
directly, did you?" If Molly had the energy, or any humor left in her
body at all, she would have smirked at Kragen engagingly. She would
have twirled her verbal foil with a flourish and challenged him to a
duel of philosophy and metaphor.
As this wasn't the case, she was
blunt and direct instead, with her expression smooth and calm and
unsmiling, but intrigued none the less.
"So, Kragen, what are you off to burn and consume?"
Laurel Hensley
"Fine,
fuck you too." That last bit is said to the phone and she hangs it
up. She'll still get the mark, she knows. He's just trying to get her
to slow down. Enjoy life a bit, he always said. She shakes her head as she pockets the phone. "Later, 'dad.'" The quotation marks around dad can definitely be heard.
She
stops a moment and takes a drag off the smoke as she looks around,
taking quick stock of where she is, and seems to quickly recognize the
corner. She looks like she might be willing to head off, when...
So, Kragen, what are you off to burn and consume?
That
draws her attention. Come on, don't tell me you wouldn't at least look
with some degree of interest at a conversation like that. Well, Laurel
would, and she does. She gives it more than a passing moment though,
instead taking a step back and taking the mercenary and the nurse in
appraisingly.
Kragen Kingsmith
"Ohhh nothing in
particular tonight." Kragen's voice suddenly becoming normal, becoming
less intense and zealous as he attempted to straighten his rumpled
cuffs. "I have purpose, but sadly I don't quite yet have a target."
He
shrugged as he looked over casually at the bounty hunter once more,
curious as to where her own one sided conversation was going. When the
bounty hunter looked their way Kragen levelled those intense grey eyes
upon her and smirked as a slow nod was given and his look said. 'Well
aren't we an interesting group.'
He tilted his head once more and
gestured towards Molly with a roguish, charming smile, the kind that
told a joke, but at the same time held the truth. "Unless of course your
in the mood to burn and consume perhaps?" A dire and dangerous comment
turned into something dirty.
Classy Kragen, classy.
Molly Toombs
The
man's voice switched from poetic to normal, and once more he sounded
less like a character from a book and more like a real man that you
would encounter on the street. Certainly he and Molly looked a strange
pair, standing there on the corner chattering as they were. He looked
like he came from money, even though his suit was a bit rumpled and
there was some stubbly growth on his chin to surround that goatee.
Molly, clearly, was an overworked nurse. The scrubs were like a neon
sign over her head declaring her profession.
He looked over to the
woman who had been yelling at her phone, but was now finished doing
so. Molly looked as well, and found that the blond-haired woman was
watching the both of them openly. Molly made a face, something akin to 'excuse me?', before Kragen was speaking to her again and she turned her head to meet his eyes and observe his face once more.
He
asked if she wanted to burn and consume anything, and the rougish smile
through which he asked left little question as to the direction he was
going with the comment. Molly stood a little more straight, pulled her
shoulders back, and raised one eyebrow higher than the other. A hand
went to her full hip and settled there while the other held on to the
tote strap across her chest.
"That's pretty forward of you. I can't tell if you're offering to smoke me out or eat me out, though."
He wanted to be classy? Molly could play at that game.
Something in her tone would tell him, though, that she probably had no plans of taking up the offer either way.
Laurel Hensley
Kragen
and Molly both look Laurel's way, and while the man smirks the woman
looks put off at being stared at. Par for the course, as far as Laurel
is concerned, on both parts. She gives an amused snort to Kragen's play
on words and shakes her head, while Molly gets a raised eyebrow.
"Hey,
don't look at me. I'm not the one talking about burning shit down and
targets and all of that. You say attention-grabbing things, you're
gonna attract attention, you know?" She gives a little smirk. "Go take
your arson sex games somewhere else if you don't wanna be stared at."
Well,
to be fair--okay, there's nothing fair here. The door was kind of left
open but she didn't have to walk through it. Someone was just pissed
that they didn't have anyone to hunt down tonight.
Kragen Kingsmith
She
answered, and oh what an answer it was. it was enough to stretch that
smile across his face once more, but where before it had been a death
skull smile now it was warm and thoroughly amused, the laughter followed
a moment later, slipping out of his throat as he quickly caught his
cigarette lest it fall to the ground.
The laughter holds for a few
long moments, and when at last he finished he was holding his sides his
hands rubbing at them gingerly as he straightened and his head slid to
the side in a unfinished, but entirely amused shake of his head a
contented sigh at their barbed rapport. "I think one way or another dear
Molly, you would be left breathless."
The grin becomes roguish
once more and he shook his head as he stuffed that cigarette back
between his lips and said. "Your quite good, I might have to get you to
write me a line or two someday." He offered as he turned his gaze back
to Laurel as she spoke, his eyes narrowing, but not in a warning or hint
of danger, but in an entirely different kind of amusement.
He
took a step towards Laurel, bridging the gap between the two parties as
he pulled the cigarette slowly from between his lips and exhaled smoke
like a dragon. "My dear lady, you may stare all you like." He pauses
before gesturing over to Molly.
"Just...not at her."
Bertram Kohl
Despite
the blood upon his hands, Bertram emerges into the outside world as
clean as a whistle. It was a bit personal to the man, everyone embraces
eternity in a different manner and Bertram just happened to come from a
time when class and grace were a welcome sight in a man. So while most
of his clan have embraced their monstrous side with reckless abandon,
Bertram has retained the idea that being a monster does not make one an
animal! If you are attempting to display your superiority to humans
would it not better behoove you to embrace the side of civility?
If
you wish to master humanity you need to understand them. Just as it
doesn't serve a cattle rancher to run among his cattle slashing them to
bits and shouting obscenities, it doesn't serve the Cainite to walk
among his flock hacking them apart and painting one's face in the gore.
The flock must be minded, it must be watched, it must be tended, and it
must even be protected! This is simple economics at work. If you wish to
reap the benefits of your harvest it will serve you well to better
manage your "crops" be they corn, cattle, or... Other.
So while he
walks among them he does not do so as a perverse monstrosity, a living
mockery of the human condition, but rather as a well dressed, confident,
and self assured businessman. Someone who sits at the top of the
pyramid they have all but erected for men just such as him. Just as the
businessman is a predator seeking to acquire the wealth that the common
man has to offer, the cainite is also a predator who has a vested
interest in convincing those within his flock that in following his own
interest he, in turn, only helps to serve their own. It certainly makes
the blow easier when it comes down to the fact that to the average
Cainite humans are little more than tools, and food! Of course... In
their defense, to the average Kindred... Humans are the exact same
thing. The only difference is that the Kindred lie to themselves about
what they are, the Cainite embraces his existence with the passion that
should be expected of anyone who has been elevated unto a new level of
existence.
He whistles a soft little tune that comes from a day
when Americans had just a little more class and he began his long walk
down a fire escape to an alley below. Men wore suits, they opened doors
for women, they worked hard, and when they got home they took a special
interest in their families. Granted, it was a time when Domestic
Violence was at an all time high, and gender equality simply didn't
exist. However, that isn't a part of that time Bertram would like to
celebrate (note how he's left the tank top and bottle of booze at home).
Bertram was a walking reflection more of an ideal than an actual man.
In his mind he was the protagonist, a man who set out to change a world
that needed someone with the desire to change it, though who is going to
listen to a man who looks like the last time he showered was a week
ago?
He was slender, lean, he didn't appear to be a bulky man but
he didn't look particularly weak or frail either. He was in pleasant
enough shape, and his suit did well to fit to his frame. He looked every
bit the business man donning a suit that might as well be a uniform
announcing what he did for a living, though exactly what business he was
in was a little more difficult to guess at!
He seemed in a
pleasant enough mood. Who wouldn't be? The world was his for the taking,
all he had to do was reach out and grasp for what he wanted. Curse you
say? This was a blessing bestowed upon those fortunate enough to
understand what it means. There are sacrifices to be made, but those
sacrifices are the price for power and power... That is the only thing
that truly matters in this world. Bertram wore his existence proudly,
like a badge of honor upon his chest, not that you'd be able to tell
what he was just by looking at him (unless you knew what you were
looking for).
The fact that he leapt from a fire escape to the
ground below was simply part of his entrance one might suppose. The
reasons for a well dressed businessman to be exiting a building through
the fire escape could be countless. For all you know he could be
escaping a fire that was started in the stairwell and by assuming that
he was up to no good you would be proving that you were the asshole for
that assumption and not he! The question as to whether or not there was a
fire, however, would remain unknown! I mean... Is there really any way
to know if there is a fire or not in the first place? In the end isn't
that a matter best left to philosophers and dreamers to discuss?
Soon
enough he emerged onto the street. Pausing long enough to adjust his
tie, and glance up and down the street. He was about to head left, down
the street and into the night, but the sight of Molly to his right tugs
him in a direction he hadn't expected to be heading this evening. Though
this was hardly a negative thing, in his mind it made for a pleasant
distraction from whatever boring plans he had made earlier in the
evening.
So the whistle continued as he came upon the trio. A
predator with the eyes of a serpent and the smile of a prince. (Oh...
That's not actually literal. He doesn't have the eyes of a snake. I was
just being colorful!)
Molly Toombs
Kragen laughed,
clearly enjoying her comeback. He had to catch his cigarette to keep
it from falling. This wasn't to say that he missed his chance to
retort, though, because the warmer, more genuine smile went rakish once
again when he advised her that either way he would leave her breathless.
Molly
had the sense of modesty to blush a little, cheeks flushing pink under
her freckles, and she even grinned a little bit back at him. Nothing
quite like wordplay and some good banter to take your mind off the
horrors that you were about to go home and dream about, after all.
Then
the woman nearby called her out for being off-put by being eavesdropped
upon. Laurel started speaking to Molly directly, and this of course
pulled the nurse's attention. She looked at Laurel like she was
confused more than anything else. Then, with Laruel's interjection
concluded, Molly bobbed her head agreeably and shrugged her shoulders.
Despite the crass nature of the statement, she couldn't say that the
blonde woman was necessarily wrong. After all, this was a public street
corner in the business center of a city.
She may have had
something to say, or she might have been content to simply let that one
slide and ask Kragen if he wanted to walk with her a ways. Instead, the
older gentleman approached Laurel and advised her that while she was
welcome to stare, she wasn't welcome to stare at Molly specifically.
The
nurse's eyebrows, penciled so that her dyed-dark hair didn't look so
obviously like a dye job, once again rose to the task of portraying her
emotions, this time showing surprise. She looked to Laurel again, made
eye contact, and shook her head just a little in an attempt to express
that she wasn't actually that bothered by being stared at. It was an
effort from behind Kragen's shoulder to diffuse whatever situation was
about to start boiling up.
"That's not necessary," she chimed in gently, but didn't seem to have much more to say.
Laurel Hensley
If
Kragen's closing of the distance worries Laurel, she doesn't show it.
Here's the funny part; she may have been bitchy about it, but the blonde
woman didn't mean to be blatently insulting. It just kind of comes out
that way from her mouth as a general rule. She seems cool with Molly
when she doesn't take any real offense to it; if you can let something
like that slide off your back and not react too strongly one way or
another, you might deserve a second look.
When you step up...that's when it gets interesting.
Kragen
doesn't have warning or danger in his stance, and Laurel doesn't feel a
sense of either. She doesn't step up herself; this isn't someone who
feels the need to bump chests. She's just having a bit of amusement at
someone's expense and Kragen took offense for her. Or possibly not
offense, maybe he's just being a good guy. Either way, she's amused.
"Now,
look at you, white knight." She looks slightly up at him (he's got a
couple of inches on her) with a grin. "Clarify for me, will you? Are
you making a pass at me or defending the nice lady's honor?"
She
hears a whistle as Bertram comes down the block and she glances his way,
but it's brief before she looks back with that same grin.
Kragen Kingsmith
Kragen
had bridged the gap, like a circuit breaker flicked to on he'd allowed
the wires to connect and the current to flow, in this case it just so
happened it had to flow through him...or at least around him, as Molly
tries to talk past his shoulder and being courteous the man takes a
fancy step to the side and then back, clearing a way so that a triangle
forms between the trio.
Laurel asks for clarification, wondering
if the 'white knight' was doing one thing or another. The question has
Kragen on the verge of laughing, his lips turning upwards and his eyes
narrowing with hidden mirth. But he offers a speculative sidelong look
in Molly's direction as he drew in smoke once more, a proper moment to
add to tension before he said.
"You can ask Miss Molly, if you'd
like confirmation, but I am a man who loves to multitask." He offers
before reaching up to tilt an invisible hat as he leaned forward
slightly.
"I am Kragen Kingsmith, it is, of this i am quite sure, a
pleasure." He then gestures to Molly and offers. "And this, is Dear
Miss Molly, of last name unknown, as she was such a roguish young thing
last time we met and she offered no last name." He looked at Molly then
and grinned shaking his head and tutting ineffectually.
"But I accepted her regardless."
Molly Toombs
Kragen
moved to the side, creating a triangle between himself, Molly and
Laurel. Laurel looked amused but not offended, and asked if he was
supposed to be a knight in shining armor or a rogue hitting on the
blonde haired bounty hunter. Kragen, puffing on his cigarette, gave
Molly a long look before expressing that he was great at multi-tasking.
This
coaxed another grin out of the night nurse, and the potentially tense
situation managed to calm itself thanks to a trio of easier attitudes
and some well-played wit. Molly's hands were still at her hip and tote
strap, and she didn't move to shake hands or anything like that. This
was just an encounter on the street, after all. She probably wasn't
going to be going out to lunch with this woman anytime soon, so she
didn't make gestures to practice ettiquette this evening.
"Molly
Toombs," she shared, "and if we're going to take his word, he's
apparently wonderful at multi-tasking. I'm not sure that he should be
given the opportunity to demonstrate, though. He steals breaths too,
from what I'm told." This is delivered with a sidelong glance to the
Ghoul. Good humor had started to seep back into her bones, and
liveliness returned to her features. She looked less haggard now that
she were enjoying herself a little. Truthfully, this was the first time
she'd smiled without forcing it for a patient or coworker in the past
three days. It felt nice.
But then--
Then she focused her
eyes past Kragen's profile, and another face leaped out of the crowd and
sent alerts and bells going off in her mind. Bertram's face was
recognized quickly, and the identity that went along with it had her
tensing and that smile falling immediately from her face.
He was
already looking directly at her. She couldn't just dodge away and
pretend that she hadn't seen him, hope that he hadn't spied her. So,
instead, she swallowed the lump that threatened to grow in her throat,
gripped the tote bag strap in front of her chest with both hands now,
and watched him approach. Though her chin was held high and her
shoulders square, she looked anything but as confident as she forced her
body language to portray. She looked nervous instead.
jamie
Her
phone buzzes. If and when she chooses to open the file she sees Nate
has sent her a picture message. An baby orange tabby cat is sitting in a
small saucepan on top of a stove, lid canted for photographic purposes
and not because it's trying to escape. It's maybe twelve weeks old and
looks confused yet complacent.
The caption says "SHANAH TOVAH! I'm drunk. This is my cat. This pan is too big for her I think I need to put her in a jar."
Laurel Hensley
Kragen's
little verbal joust (or jest, if you prefer) draws a grin from Molly
and a little witticism on her part. Laurel responds similarly,
chuckling at the comment. She appreciates someone who can give as well
as they can get and while she's hardly being friendly, she can retract
the claws a little. She gives him another once over, as if sizing him
up in an entirely different way, and shrugs.
"I don't take anyone
at their word, Molly. And you'd probably not want the opportunity to
demonstrate." That part goes to the merc, of course. Laurel's grin
becomes a little wider. "I don't play so well with others. Besides,
I'm guessing you'd be a bit out of your depth with just one." Hey, we
did say she retracted a little.
"Laurel," she says to the
both of them. "Charmed." The truth of that 'charmed' part is possibly
in debate, but she's not being hostile or rude anymore so that's
progress, right? She is about to ask why burning and consuming would be
on the menu when Molly looks off at Bertram and she's suddenly
nervous. The blond bounty hunter's brow furrows and she follows her
gaze back to the whistling man, head cocking to the side. It's obvious
Molly's not pleased to see him, and while Laurel's not stepping to
anyone's defense, she's not backing away either. She's more intrigued
than anything.
Kragen Kingsmith
"Oh? Kragen asks,
his cigarette flopping between his lips as he inquires about Laurel's
lack of interest of being on a team. "I don't know about that I really
am an excellent negotiator once you get to know me." It's said so matter
of fact, so bald and out there that one might find it hard not to
chuckle knowing he's suggesting negotiating what he is.
"I really
do a wonderful job of bridging gaps, spanning crevices, forging
compacts..." He looks up and away as he says this, like he was day
dreaming or perhaps imagining such things before he chuckles and shakes
his head.
"Or not, as the moment requires." He shrugs as he
finished his cigarette and let it drop from his lips to the ground,
where it was crushed under a fine, but dirty heel.
Kragen is not
without his insights of course, he knows that the two women are feeling
less agitated, at least he did, until he glances over at Molly and takes
note of the tension there. He follows her gaze, and locks onto
Bertram....wondering just what about the man worried her so.
Bertram Kohl
It
wasn't that Bertram was entirely dismissive of the other people
present. It wasn't as if he felt they were lowly or beneath notice, it
was simply the fact that he was a Cainite, and that fact meant that only
those in which he held an active interest would be likely to draw this
much of his attention. So, for the moment, the other people present are
noted as something of interest but his true purpose for joining the
group wasn't to break up the triangle and turn it into a misshapen
square, but instead to speak with the nurse who managed to capture his
interest just a few nights earlier.
"Hello again Molly! I do seem
to keep running into you in the strangest of places don't I?" His voice
was whimsical and curious as he makes his way around the others and
slowly moves in closer to her. "I would say this was simply good
fortune, but when you stop to consider the size of this city and the
number of people in it the likelihood that we would encounter one
another so often seems a bit higher than mere chance would suggest." He
stops, and finally takes the time to glance around at the others
present.
"Bertram! It's a pleasure to meet you both!" He says to
both Kragen and Laurel in turn. His smile shining through as he greets
them both. His voice was direct, trained. He made certain each word was
enunciated clearly so that there would be no mistaking what he was
trying to say. Communication is always important! Equally important was
making a first impression so his hand would be extended out towards
Kragen, first, in a gesture of greeting!
You can tell a lot about a
man by his handshake, and Bertram's was firm, and rigid, though not
crushing. His skin was also surprisingly cool to the touch... That is IF
his hand was taken. After Kagen he would take the time to offer his
hand out to the blonde woman. When he was done offering a handshake to
each of them. It was called being polite, and it was something Bertram
considered exceptionally important in meeting with others!
Molly Toombs
The
blonde woman was given a name-- Laurel. She and Kragen both noticed
that Molly's humor had slipped from her like so much spilled milk, and
they'd have enough time to register the reason why she had become so
tense all at once before that reason introduced himself.
Of
course, Bertram greeted Molly first. They have met before, they knew
one another (sort of), and she was a human that held his interest. He
liked her pluck. The first time they'd met she recognized him for what
he was and didn't shy away from the subject. Instead she'd stood her
ground and asked questions of him, pried for information, and when she
was quite finished being in a social setting with something that could
so easily kill her she explained that she was done talking and bade him
good evening. She had waited, of course, until she was relatively
certain she wouldn't need to worry about him coming up behind her the
moment she turned her back.
The other time they'd met there wasn't
a chance to share words, because it had been in the middle of an attack
made by dark, bloody magic, and Molly was quickly rushed from the scene
by a tall Lasombra before the opportunity to exchange pleasantries was
presented.
Tonight, though, there was no distraction. Bertram
circled behind the others and came to stand nearer to Molly, taking up a
place between her and Laurel. Her shoulders tightened at his
proximity, claimed with such comfort and no question, and she answered
him with a simple: "Yeah, the most curious places...."
Like a den of death and sacrifice.
He'd called it good fortune, and she didn't argue (nor
did she agree-- she didn't trust him, he worried her, she knew in her
heart that he wanted something from her but she didn't know what it was,
or when he would grow impatient and simply take it instead of waiting
for her to grab the bait he'd left). He went on to introduce
himself to the others, and Molly shifted her weight on her sneakers some
and made brief eye contact with Kragen. That broke before any real
messages could be portrayed to him, though, and she sufficed to simply
watch the three around her and let these introductions play out while
she contemplated the best way to disengage herself from the group.
Kragen Kingsmith
[Per+Emp come now miss molly, share with me your secrets]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4) ( fail )
Kragen Kingsmith
[Per+Alert Deadite alert?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )
Laurel Hensley
Kragen
continues playing coy and bantering, and Laurel flips him a smirk
before she turns her attention to the approaching man in the suit.
Bertram's attitude is, for lack of a better term, odd…particularly when
paired with Molly's obvious nervous stance toward him. That he is so
enthusiastic just makes Molly's anxieties stand out even more, and
Laurel? She doesn't assume the best of people. Which means she has
reason to suspect Bertram isn't the friendly kind he is playing himself
off to be.
The new arrival extends hands. Whether Kragen shakes
or not, Laurel doesn't. In fact, she doesn't reply with a recitation of
her name either; maybe once is enough for a short period of time. She
just arches a light eyebrow and gets a darkly amused look in her eyes.
"Hi."
The word comes out flat, as she takes a drag off her cigarette. She
doesn't seem worried if he's offended by it. She doesn't worry if
anyone's offended by anything, really.
She looks over at Molly when she says The most curious places
with even more tension. "Okay, I think there's a story there." She
says it because she's curious. She honestly wants to know what the fuck
she's stumbled into.
Kragen Kingsmith
[Control sir! Control!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Kragen Kingsmith
The
rasp of snake skin, the slip and shine of the finest oils, that is what
Kragen hears, what he feel's when Bertram steps up to Molly, speaking
his words to her in sibilant tone's before he turned his charms upon
Laurel, and indeed his own person.
Kragen knew what he was looking
at, because he had looked at it many times before, a wolf in sheeps
clothing, or better yet a leech in wolfs clothing. So when Bertram
offers his hand to the man he takes it, quick and clean with a few quick
pumps before he took his hand back and said. "Kragen." His voice
becoming slow and almost lethargic with a hint of bite, like a languid
predator who might yet be brought to horrible life.
He had tried
to glean more from that look Molly had offered him, that brief moment of
contact that was thoroughly ruined as a cars high beams flashed between
them, blanching Molly's face purest white and annihilating any chance
of reading in deeper.
The whole situation makes Kragen twitch, why
he's not sure, the look of mild confusion and displeasure even passes
over his face as he looks between Molly and Bertram. But he interjects,
as he so often does.
"Dearest Molly, have you been going about
behind my back?" He asks, his voice plain but inquistiive as he looks
over at her once more, a brow raised speculatively...and more
importantly, receptively.
Bertram Kohl
It
was clear to him that Molly didn't care much for him. He wasn't a fool,
but he was also used to the fact that people didn't like him. He was a
monster, and he made little effort to hide that fact. He was a civilized
monster, but a monster no less!
So when Laurel chooses not to
take his hand he simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders dismissing the
act. You can't please everyone and you certainly can't expect them to
understand the rules of etiquette! Most were barely better than cattle
in the eyes of the Cainite and so when they choose to leave a mess on
the kitchen floor who is to blame? Is it the cow who was simply doing as
cows do or was it you who was foolish enough to bring them into the
kitchen? It was simple in his eyes, the eyes of a man who has been far
more than a man for longer than his heart was beating, and taking
offense in the face of their fear, mistrust, or malice was simply
beating a dead horse.
Laurel asks about a story, and Kagen asks as
well, in his own way, and this prompts Bertram to shrug his shoulders
and glance towards Molly. "If there's a story to tell then I think Molly
should be the one to tell it." He says with a slight smile on his lips.
She was, after all, the one who drew attention to what he had said by
repeating his words in that manner. So, in his mind, it only seemed
polite to allow her to tell the story that the others now believed was
there.
To be quite honest Bertram didn't seem bothered or troubled
in the slightest about what she might, or might not, reveal. He almost
seemed more interested in seeing what she had the nerve to share with
these people.
So his hands cross under his chest and surrenders his undivided attention to Molly.
Molly Toombs
Laurel
wanted to know about the story, and Bertram, with a particular smile
and glint to his eyes, folded his arms over his chest and placed the
attention on Molly, insisting that she be the one to tell the tale.
Kragen
was looking at her, asking toyingly if she'd been going behind her
back. Molly was on the spot, and that made her tremendously
uncomfortable. Not because she couldn't handle being on the spot in
general, quite the contrary. This was more because she was on the spot
specifically concerning her encounter with this Bertram man,
particularly their last one, and even thinking back to that night made
her stomach clench and her chest grow tight and her anxiety skyrocket
through the roof.
She fidgeted some, looked at Kragen apologetically, and started with: "Ummm...."
But
then she dropped her hand quickly to her pants pocket, clamping it over
a rounded rectangular shape that had to be a cellphone. It had
vibrated, and she was reacting to it. The phone was fished out of her
pocket, the screen was glanced at-- stared at, even, for a few ticks of
the second hand before the phone was hastily put back into her pocket.
"Maybe another time. I need to go, my friend is waiting on me."
Kragen
knew that was a lie. She'd told him outright when he first walked up
that her only plan for tonight was to go home and sleep. But, if she
was lucky, he would have enough sympathy that he would just let her go
and not call her out on it. The nurse cleared her throat a little,
forced a tiny smile for Laurel, and looked up at Bertram. "Sorry to
run," is all she said to excuse herself.
She then turn and left
across whichever crosswalk gave her a green light. It wasn't the same
direction she was originally trying to go, but that didn't matter. The
point was that she was seizing the opportunity to escape, and sticking
to her guns about it. Comments behind her she would pretend not to
hear, and anything short of physically seizing her would keep her put.
Assuming
no one reaches out and grabs the nurse to bring her back, Molly Toombs
was on her way in as brisk a walk she could manage without actually
trotting.
If anyone bothered to try and glimpse her screen? It was a picture of a kitten in a cool, clean, safe frying pan.
Laurel Hensley
Betram
decides to tease Molly and dare her to tell the story, and Molly
skitters away. The bounty hunter watches the other woman slink off as
quickly as she could get away with and stay casual, then looks back
between Kragan and Bertram. There's a long moment, as if Laurel is
judging first one and then the other, the smirk slipping back up.
"Okay...Kragan, I take it back. Compared to present company at the very least, you're clearly a regular ladies man."
Yes,
the claws unsheathed a bit again. Forgive her, she can't help it. The
door was wide open, and she just couldn't help but walk through to slam
her hand down on the big red button.
Kragen Kingsmith
Molly
had been put on the spot, and that had not been Kragen's intent, but
words were rascally things, and they could cause all manner of havoc if
not properly controlled, and in this case it caused Molly to check her
phone, and for the young woman to run off in search of her friend.
Kragen
for his part does not try to stop Molly, infact he tips his invisible
hat to her as she went and then side stepped ever so subtly to be in
anyones direct path after the nurse.
He laughs when Laurel
comments and he practically bows at that before saying. "A finer
compliment I have not been paid in some time." He said as he looked
between Laurel and Bertram, his gaze cooling slightly as he checked his
wrist and shook his head at the watch present there.
"I must be
off as well, do try to play nice...both of you." Laurel might think
Kragen is speaking mostly to her in this...but the man's gaze is settled
upon Bertram before he turns and steps out onto the street, headed for
god knows where.
"Ta." Is the last word they hear him utter as a
hand raises to wave back from over his shoulder, the odd man
disappearing into the night.
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