Synopsis
February 28, 2005 - Sloane happens upon Beatrix in Koreatown. An unfriendly exchange of words occurs followed by some palm reading.
Setting
Koreatown:
This area, in the northwest section of the city, is characterized by a large number of Korean-owned businesses, serving a primarily Korean community, despite signs that simply label this as the "Asian Trade District". The streets are clean, the storefronts barely containing any English to them at all. Several of the more prominent businesses in the area do have English signs, but they are always below those that name the establishment in Korean. Restaurants, cafes, noraebang bars, grocery stores, and gift stores are among the shops found here.
Beatrix:
You see a woman who appears to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She extremely thin and yet very toned, giving her a fragile yet dangerous look. The woman's skin is flawless and of mixed complexion, and her long limbs give her an elegant look. Her face is very pretty, with full lips and dark eyes. She usually wears bold lipstick and dark eyeliner, and her hair is black and tends to be pulled up in a complicated fashion.
The woman is wearing a black and red dress. The dress looks almost like a modern variation of an older style, though it is hard to place the design. She often wears fingerless black gloves which leave her well manicured fingers exposed. A pair of tall high heel boots click on the ground as she walks. The woman is wearing a choker, earrings, and rings that are all silver in color and are inlayed with black stones.
___
Sloane:
Sloane is a young, pretty woman who looks to be of mixed ancestry. Her skin is tanned, and almost russet in colour. Very dark, nearly black hair falls in light waves around her head. Lined with black, her greenish-blue eyes are the most prominent thing about her, due to the contrast between the lightness of her irises, and the darker tone of her skin. High cheekbones have little freckles over them, but are barely noticeable and faint. She's of average height with a healthy, athletic physique.
Covering her torso is a set of two tank tops, one green, and one brown, with pink running along the outer hem. Floral designs cover the top shirt, splotched with black stains here and there. The tank tops are tight enough to hint at the taunt muscles underneath. Over this, she often wears an over-sized, black leather jacket. On top of her head is a pair of sleek shades.
Her legs are bare from the middle of the thigh and downwards, a thick, brown belt holding up the pair of denim shorts she wears. Much like her shirt, these shorts are ruined with motor oil. The smooth skin of her legs end at the brown boots she wears, leather, and lacking much of a heel to them. They buckle up at the top, and the seam on the side is held with a few metal buttons.
Around her neck is a brown leather collar, buckled up in the front where a golden dog tag dangles at her throat. The letters engraved in the gold are large and very easy to read; "Molly".
Scene
Korea Town has a few people wandering around this time of night. Some people are picking up a late dinner while others are shopping at a few of the stores that are open later. The air is slightly chilly, but nothing that a light jacket wouldn’t fix. Main street has a mixed population, but the side streets have everything written in Korean.
There is one woman wandering the side streets who appears not to fit in. She is wearing a black dress with no coat and carrying a large bag of strange objects. Beatrix stops at a store, looking in the window at various animal body parts hanging on display there. She ponders for a moment before looking into her bag, deciding whether or not she needs more chicken feet.
___
Night time. It's when the monsters and Sloanes come out to terrorize unsuspecting victims in the streets. However, her walk seems more aimless than purposeful; less of a hunt and more of a listless wandering around Korea Town. One hand is pressed over a piece of gauze on her forehead which covers a deep, gnarly gash that's about two or three days old. Uncovered and on the other side of her forehead is a round shaped bruise, which Sloane can thank Mellie for entirely. Plagued by a killer headache, she grimaces as she walks down the dark street, her figure appearing and disappearing as she enters and leaves the light from the street lamps. Her head lifts, and Sloane notices the strangely dressed woman just a few feet before her. Then, her eyes shift to the side and she looks at the store window. Her mouth gapes somewhat at the contents of the store, brows rising. Poor chickens, and all that. When she's at the window and right beside Beatrix, she pushes her face against the glass like a child regarding a new litter of puppies in the pet store. Her nose is smooshed but she wisely keeps her lips off the window. "The fuck kinda store is this?" she mutters under her breath, eyes sliding to cast Beatrix a sidelong glance.
___
Beatrix stops rummaging around in her bag. She lifts up a jar filled some sort of herb. She turns her head ever so slightly as Sloane approaches. She sniffs the air, smelling fresh blood, but it is slightly tainted. Not human blood, something else. She looks at the other woman when she arrives. “Hmmm. Interesting. I did not expect to find your kind here.” She waves a hand toward the window. “It is a medicine shop. It is difficult to find the ingredients that I need here in this town.” Beatrix is not as unfriendly as she usually is with humans, it appears she holds other supernatural beings in higher regard than the mundane.”
___
Aside from the blood smell, Sloane actually smells good today. A shower after work has left her with a lavender type smell rather than wet dog. One hand leaves the glass as she leans against it and she hooks a finger over the collar on her throat, causing the dogtag to jangle. Upon hearing Beatrix, Sloane's head slowly turns, looking the other directly in the eye. Her pupils reflect the light from the street lamp eerily, like most of her canine counterpart's eyes do. "Oh," she says after a moment, realization touching the features on her face. "A vampire…" Sloane murmurs, pressing her forehead against the glass again, trying to cool her overheating skin. She doesn't seem too worried about Beatrix's species at all, but the contents of her bag are a different story. "Could always collect them yourself, you know. While you're at it, make a potion that gets rid of headaches," she murmurs, whining over the pain pulsing in her head. "And hopefully you don't need like… 'eye of wolf' or some crap."
___
Beatrix smirks as she puts the jar back in her bag. “Yes, I am one of the undead. And you are one of the two-natured, though perhaps a bit more…domestic than the others I have met.” She motions to her own neck, making reference to the girl’s collar. “I do try to grow my own herbs, but some of the ingredients are a bit difficult to grow myself.” She motions to a few of the odder items hanging in the window. And unfortunately some of my familiar ingredients are not available in this town at all.” She shakes her head. “And no, not eyes. Blood and fur are useful, but not organs of the wolf. At least not for anything I would have need of.” She smirks, “A headache? What’s wrong? Did your human master beat you in the head?” She motions to the woman’s head. “I honestly do not know why one of your proud race would wear on object of bondage and servitude around your neck.”
___
"I'm far from domesticated," Sloane says to Beatrix, her cheeks puffing up as she denies the fact. While Sloane's defiant, she's probably not the worst behaved of her kind. She gives the collar around her neck another tug and then turns to face the other woman, leaning her shoulder against the glass. From this angle, it's easier to read the text on the dogtag; 'Molly'. "eBay," Sloane says, grinning crookedly over at the vampiress. "Betcha they have everything you'll ever want and more on there. I'd lend you my blood and fur… but I need that." Of course, she's kidding, and that's made obvious when she suppresses a laugh. When Beatrix explains that she does need something from a wolf, Sloane pauses, her eyes widening owlishly. Then, her brows cinch together tightly as though she's been offended. "I'm my own master, thank you very much. I was given this collar by my biological parents - I'm adopted… It's my only connection to them…" she murmurs, trailing off. As she leans her head back against the cool glass, she does look like a pet for a brief second. Abandoned and homesick. "And this thing," she points at her forehead, "is from when I was hunting. Got careless and the deer gave me a good smack."
___
Beatrix leans to one side and folds her arms, moving her bag to the crook of her arm. “Adopted? Like a dog from a pound no less. And e-bay does not suit my needs. Computers are not quite my cup of tea. Also a few of the items I am not so sure could be found on the internet.” She holds a hand up to her chin and ponders for a moment. “Trying to hunt a deer? Why not go after something more your taste, like kibble or a chew toy?”
__
"I'm not a dog," Sloane corrects Beatrix, her grin fading and replaced by a prominent, irritated frown. Her hands move into her pockets, fiddling with the keys inside the leather. "I'm a werewolf. There's a difference, you know," she says, nose wrinkling in distaste for the other woman's remarks. "Werewolves are hotter," she tells Beatrix, reaching a hand out to press her fingers against one of her bare forearms, if allowed, so she can feel the heat that her kind tends to emit. It feels like she's running a fever in contrast to Beatrix's dead, cold skin. "You know, you're not very nice," she comments, one brow raising, though she doesn't seem terribly bothered anymore. Not that Sloane can talk - she tends to be just as nasty, if not more. "I'll make your arm my chew toy if you don't stop it." Something about the unenthused tone she uses implies that is a baseless threat.
___
“I know what you are, creature. And I see no difference.” Beatrix pulls her arm back as she is touched, “Yes, the blood of a werewolf is hotter than that of a normal human. I dislike it. It always feels to me like I am eating something diseased.” She makes a distasteful face. And chewing on MY arm would be especially foolish. Certainly you know that Vampire blood makes your kind ill.” She smirks at the girl, “And to me you are nothing more than a food source, granted perhaps a bit less convenient than a human. And less tasteful as well.” She shrugs, “Not very nice? Why should I be nice? Were you nice to that deer you tried to eat?”
___
As Sloane listens to Beatrix, she suddenly becomes complacent. She accepts the other's views and makes barely an attempt to convince her otherwise, perhaps feeling as though it's a hopeless cause. She rests her head back against the glass, taking her hand back and putting it into her pocket once more. "I've never tried vampire blood, actually," she admits to the vampiress, her eyes shifting up to the sky. No stars are visible, all made impossible to see by the pollution of the city. "… I was nice until it /hit/ me," she remarks back to Beatrix, her shoulders shrugging. "Eat me, then, if I'm just a fuckin' food source," Sloane challenges Beatrix, her eyebrows coming together again once she's tilted her head to the side and brushed her dark hair away from her neck. "I don't care. Go ahead, take a bite. I've never been fed on by a vampire before anyway."
___
Beatrix sighs, done for show since the woman does not breathe. “Well keep that in mind if your ever offered the blood of my kind. And also keep in mind that our kind can fight back a bit better than a human.” She laughs out loud when Sloane tells her to take a bite. “Why would I do that. I have just fed. Also I already told you that the blood of your kind is not to my taste. Not only that, but in truth I would see you as a bit above a human in worth. I would rather feed on something useless and common than something rare such as yourself.”
___
Sloane's face falls further as she listens to Beatrix, looking more hurt than she had when she was verbally insulted. She doesn't take too well to the rejection, even if she half-expected it from the vampiress. Even other supernaturals don't want her, but maybe brooding vampiresses aren't the sort to go looking for acceptance from. "I don't know," Sloane admits to the other woman, pressing her index and middle finger against her neck to feel her pulse. She lets three beats pass before removing those fingers. "I just wanted to experience it. I always hear about humans and vampires doing that sort of thing. I mean, the only thing I'd be able to do to please a human would be shift into a wolf and hope they find me cute," she mutters, teeth gritting together and grinding. "And it's not like you'd need to kill me. It wouldn't be like, endangering my kind or anything. Maybe werewolf blood is like wine, or coffee; an acquired taste."
___
Beatrix brushes her shoulder a bit, looking over at the woman and smirking. “An acquired taste? My dear, I have been alive for 210 years. If I have not acquired a taste for the blood of your kind yet than I do not think that it will happen.” She looks slightly annoyed by the other woman’s moping. “Well try going to one of the Vampire Bars around here. Maybe you’ll find a younger one of my kind. Or perhaps you will find a vampire with less refined tastes than my own.” She shrugs “And if you look for acceptance, try finding the local pack. A town this size? Where there is one of you there are many.”
___
Sloane kicks at the ground with the tip of her boot, leaning her head back the other way so that her neck isn't exposed. She takes her weight off the glass finally, breathing inwards deeply before exhaling in a long sigh. "Well, you're no fun," she mutters, drawing her mouth off to the side and puckering her lips. She's acting a bit like a bored teenager; reckless and kind of whiney, even though she's two years past her teens. "For some reason, I don't think any vampires will be takers. I may need to work on my approach," she murmurs, letting her tongue poke out from between her lips before she bites down on it gently. "The pack is way too restricting. I don't want people telling me what I can and can't do. I can barely stand my parents doing that to me, so having a complete stranger command me would drive me insane. I'm still trying to find the leader, though, just to keep my options open," she explains to Beatrix, dropping her gaze to the ground, then back up to the vampiress again.
___
Beatrix chuckles at the girl. “So you’re disappointed that no one wants you, yet you avoid those that would take you? It sounds to me that you want to be alone. You go out of your way to create a circumstance in which you can feel sorry for yourself.” She shifts her weight again and looks down the alley. “”Regardless, it is something that you need to deal with on your own. There is no reason for you to seek answers from a random vampire. Lucky for you I am a bit more than a random vampire. If you would prefer it, I can read your hand.” She holds out her own hand to the girl.
___
"I think you're over-simplifying things, there. The pack wouldn't want me anyway. I may wear a collar, but I don't sit and stay when people tell me to. The way I see it, the pack's probably just a bunch of whipped mutts following the person with the biggest balls around," Sloane says, her lips popping after she speaks. With her fingers, she strokes away the black bangs in front of her eyes that had been obscuring her vision. She averts her eyes when Beatrix makes her observation, part of her knowing that the vampiress is right, at least partially. "You can read palms?" Sloane's all over that. At the extended hand, she accepts the offer and places her own palm in it, facing up to the sky. "I don't think that sort of thing works, though. Maybe it does for a vampire. Not when humans do it."
___
Beatrix chuckles at the girl’s description of Werewolves. “I think the pack is a bit more than that.” She takes the girl’s hand in her own, the cold touch of her skin contrasting that of the werewolf’s. “Some arts have been lost to time. There are things that some vampires can do simply because of their age.” She peers at the girls hand and traces a finger-nail across her palm. “Interesting. You are destined to find others in your life after all. I see…Companionship. And hardship. Eventual death, but to one who does not age any life looks short.” She releases the girl’s hand, “In short, nothing out of the ordinary for you, although this line here,” She points to a random crease on the girl’s hand “This indicates your second nature.”
___
Sloane chews at the inside of her cheek as she watches Beatrix read her palm intensely, as though trying to solve a Rubix cube. When the nail goes across her skin, she feels shivers jolt up her spine and she instantly stiffens. "I think it must get boring to live for so long," she says idly, as her lines are examined for meaning, though afterwards she remains quiet and lets Beatrix work. "Well, duh," she says, after taking her hand back. "That's nothing I didn't expect in my life. I'm either in for a very boring life, normal life, or our lives /aren't/ predestined. Which I don't think they are," she says. Sloane'd like to beleive that she's got something more meaningful coming for her. She does squint at the indicated second-nature line, however. "You'd think it'd be something cool, like a squiggly line instead of a curved one."
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Beatrix shrugs and steps back. “Living forever is not so bad, granted I am still relatively young for my kind.” She looks at her nails, as if making sure she didn’t pick up excess dirt from touching the other woman. “And whether you chose to believe such things or not is up to you. If the two-natured line were obvious I’m sure you would have noticed it before, no? Not that I would need to see your hand to know what you are. But anyway, I should probably be on my way. I have a few things to do before dawn and I’d rather not have to wait until tomorrow night to do them.”
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When Beatrix takes a pace back, Sloane does the same and even begins pivoting to turn around. "I think it'd drive me insane after the first few hundred years. After a while I guess you'd get used to it," she says, her face pulling out of its frown to look over at the vampiress with consideration. She then looks back at the shop glass window, making a sour face at all the abstract and somewhat frightening ingredients inside. "But… yeah, you have fun prancing around in the dark and such," she says to Beatrix, about to begin walking away when she remembers something. "I'm Sloane," the werewolf says over her shoulder quietly, figuring that Beatrix will hear her voice even if it's not very loud. She doesn't wait around for Beatrix to offer her name, and instead begins a brisk jog down the street until she hits a turn which she takes before disappearing into the darkness.
___
Beatrix shrugs when the other woman mentions how boring it would be to live forever. She says no more and turns to walk in the other direction, stopping for a moment when a name is given. She turns to give hers in response but the girl is too far to waste the effort to call it out. She shrugs once more and continues on her way.
~ Fin ~
