Defective

White Rock Lake


A reservoir, White Rock Lake covers 1,254 acres and was once used for a portion of Dallas' drinking water supply. Now that it's use as a water source has been supplanted, the area has become one of the favored recreational locations in the city. The forested shoreline is dotted with numerous small cabins, fishing piers, and sailboat docks.
The lake is surrounded by White Rock Lake Park, which is home to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden. Running through the park is a 9 mile trail designed for hiking, running or cycling.
Though swimming was banned here back in the '50's, it is still a popular location for area teens who generally enjoy the more deserted areas, using the beautiful backdrop as a makeout spot.


The botanical gardens are certainly a sight to be seen. The sun has just gone down about an hour previously and the pathways are lit up by small walkway lights that glow a slight flourescent blue. The garden isn't terribly populated this late at night. A young couple strolls down a long walkway — and that's about it… save for one other person. January is perched atop of a shrub with a white rose in her fingers. She holds the flower up to her ear and listens intently to it. She must be listening, anyway, because she laughs as if it has just told her a very funny joke. The young couple glance to the tall woman before they start to meander off. She puts the flower to her ear once more and mutters in a vaguely English accent, "I know they are. I know."

When it's this hot, evening is the best time for a stroll. And as awkwardly romantic as a moonlight stroll through a flower garden might tend to be, Steve is going it alone, leaning on his cane each time he steps down on his bad leg. He pauses to eye the woman sitting on a hedge, since he's never seen that before. How is that possible? How did she get up there? How do the branches not stick her in the butt? The sight prompts many questions for Steve. Though they're internal, his expression is plainly puzzled.

January hops down from her seat on the bush, wearing dirt and leaves on her rump as a fashion statement. She doesn't seem entirely concerned with them to say the least. The vampire woman towers at six foot two tonight thanks to her high heels and can easily be spotted from a distance. She cuts a rather intimidating figure. The rose is held up to her ear once more as her eyes flit around the gardens. "No, I didn't! You did. You were very bad. Very, very bad. You will need to be punished." The rose is then thrown to the ground and smashed under heel until it lays ruined on the ground, petals smashed into what could be called something of a pulp. For a moment it seems that she's entirely missed Steve's presence. But he isn't THAT lucky. January walks a short distance in the opposite direction before spinning and beginning to walk rather rapidly in Steve's direction.

Steve doesn't seem particularly intimidated, despite January's height and her cruelty to cut flowers. Perhaps he believes he would be more difficult to pulp. However, since she's in such a hurry and seems to be possibly crazy, he limps to one side of the path to give her as much space as possible.

If only it were as simple as January passing Steve. Unfortunately she moves right over to where he limps to give her space and smiles rather manically at him. "You seem to have a tree." She says, looking downward to his cane. There's a brief moment wherein she simply sniffs the air near Steve's face and then licks her lips. "Mmmm…" She says before shuddering in a disturbing manner, eyes half-lidded. "Blue, blue, blue…"

Steve looks down at his cane, then looks back to January, nodding slowly. "Yep," he agrees. "Tree." Her shudders cause him to shuffle back a step at first, but then he realizes she might actually be in pain and he puts a hand out. "You…you okay, lady?"

January doesn't appear to be hurt. Though her toothy smile does betray the long fangs in her mouth. She leans in to Steve once more and asks him very logically: "You smell like blue, but do you taste like it?" Other than posing this very important question to him she makes no sudden movements for a long moment. The woman stares at his jawline with deep consideration before she turns around and glances at the moon. "Do you hear it too? It's singing to me." Then she spins back around and smiles at Steve like a cat with cream. "Your hair is pretty…"

Steve curls his lip a little, obviously just…plain creeped out. He puts his hand down again. "Uh…no," he says. "I don't…hear anything." When she comments on his hair, he shrugs. "I'm gonna cut it."

The woman decides to get a little handsy with Steve at this point. She reaches up to attempt a stroke over his hair with one of her hands. "Cut it?" She asks as though the very concept breaks her still-beating heart. She tilts her head at him and watches for a long moment, making unwavering eye contact before she licks at her lips and makes a noise that very closely resembles a moan. And not one of pain. "You shouldn't be all alone, little boy… you should come with me…" January says in her best inviting voice. Which too is creepy.

Steve pulls away from the touch, putting his cane behind him a little so he can lean on it and take a step back. "Look, lady, no thanks," he says firmly. "And no touching, either. You're, uh… Do you have a doctor or a medication or something?"

January pulls her hand back and furrows her brows, her lower lip sticking out. She looks briefly like a child who has been scolded before something in her face changes… making her seem more than a little malevolent. She studies Steve up and down for a long moment. "Defective. Deformed. Poorly. Sick. Naughty boy." January starts to turn on her heel and step away from Steve, but not before hissing at him between her teeth.

"Hey!" Steve protests, probably offended by those remarks. "You don't know what you're talking about, lady. You need to watch it. You can't just treat people like crap because they don't like getting touched by strangers." Still, he's not brave enough to follow her. After all, that hissing bit made him draw back even more.

"Touch, eat, touch, eat, touch, eat, touch eat touch eat touch eat touch eat…" It soon begins to become an eldritch chant, the words drifting into one another. January starts to run down the pathway in her high heels with a quiet gale of laughter resounding in the area after she's disappeared down the trail.

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