Take Back the Night

Southern Methodist University Campus

Green grass carpets the campus area, the central focus of which is a large concrete fountain. Tall sprays of water spout straight up from the center, with smaller sprays blossoming out closer to the edge. Seven low buildings in a variety of architectural styles are arrayed around the fountain.

To the right is the old Science building. Continuing in a counter-clockwise manner, there is the Humanities Building, then the library, a track, two tennis courts, a gymnasium and finally the dormitories.

School's out for the summer, except for those students that take up the summer semester for extra credit, or special classes that are only offered at certain times — such as flower arranging, and some weird science course. Hope is one of those students, and though she's only got one class during the day she can often be found around the campus before work.

Today? She's manning a 'Take Back the Night' booth with a few other girls. She's dressed in a pretty pink ruffle-sleeve blouse and a pair of denim capris. Her little area of the booth is rather special though. She's not handing out rape-whistles, or the numbers for campus security. She's got several boxes in front of her, some of which look to be about the size of lipstick containers in various hues — though most appear to be soft shades of blue, yellow, and pink.

Dallas is a strange place, even after being back in the states for a few years. With a goal of graduating early, Ian is one of the students that's taking summer classes, mostly advanced core subjects, but anything to actually get on with her life after college faster. With the sun shining overhead, the dark skinned young woman has taken a break from studying and is wandering around campus, a waterbottle in one hand as she just takes in the sights once more.

"Take Back the Night, eh." She speaks with a thick South African accent, a product of living there for fully half her childhood. The young woman makes her way over to the table, her boots making small tapping sounds against the sidewalk as she does, and gives the girls manning it a small, not really interested smile. She's got her own form of protection from the things that go bump in the night, after all; what's she need a whistle for? She pauses for a moment before Hope's section of the table and a small, confused frown appears on her face, drawing the dark wings of her brows down, "What's all this, then?" She reaches curiously for one of the smaller pink boxes.

OoOoh, someone's actually talking to her. Generally, when manning this booth, she's prepared to be bombed with water balloons by one of the fraternities. So when Hope moves forward, it's with a genuine and bright smile. "Silver mace," she says, pointing to the board behind her. Not only her business class project, but an actual product now with a little bit of help from someone else in the Fellowship of the Sun. "Tried and true. It works, no word of a lie. It at least distracts any assailant, not just vampires, long enough to get away from them."

Nodding to the pink model (which of course is her favorite, due to her obsession with the color), she adds, "That's the most popular model among young women. We've got a few models for men too, though it's mostly women that have been snapping them up."

At the word silver, all interest fades from Ian's face and she just shakes her head, "So it's mace laced with silver, then." Again she shakes her head and gingerly puts the canister back down, "I don't use the stuff, myself. Never have." For one thing, silver isn't something she wants to have much to do with, "How much you charging for it? I got a couple friends could use some." She'll just have to try to avoid them when they decide to get trigger happy.

The girl's hands are shoved into her pockets, almost as though to keep herself from touching anything else, "If it really works, then it might should get promoted more than just one of these set-ups." A faint smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth, "I know I saw some of the frat boys eying you all a little while ago."

"Actually it's more or less a silver spray laced with mace." The other way around, since adding silver to mace was more difficult than adding a bit of a bothersome spray to a fine mist of silver. "Too bad. It's saved me a few times here on campus at night when the vampire was lurking around." The strange one that chased after her. Shuddering a little, she looks down at them.

"These ones here are free, actually. Take a few for your friends if you'd like. The larger models, which are being sold in a few of the shops here in the city, will run between ten and twenty dollars, depending on the size and the design." Noting the aversion to it she adds, "I can put them in little bags for you if you'd like— aww crud. Really?" Hope turns to the other girls in the booth, relays the information and then turns back to the girl. "This year, we're prepared," she offers with a smile.

/The/ vampire? Sounds like there's a story there, and the DJ in Ian is now dying of curiosty and wanting to get the full story on that little comment. Unfortunately for her, she's on on the air right now and can't think of an excuse to get the whole story out of the other girl. She does have to ask, though, "'The' vampire? Sounds like it's someone you know." And don't like. She shrugs faintly, "I don't really go out at night. Not alone, anyway." No, she goes out with a little group of other two-natured when she wants to run.

Or when she /has/ to run.

She nods, looking satisfied to hear that the ones at the booth are free, "Doesn't sound too bad, actually." Twenty dollars for something that can disable a vampire enough to give enough time to get away? That's a bonus for a human. Good think she's not exactly human. The offer to put them in a bag gets a little half smile and a nod, "That'd be great. Could I get five of them? My mates don't pay a bit of attention to what's going on around them sometimes." She'll do this for her little core group of friends, anyway.

She nods, "Yep. They were just over that way when I saw them last." The jerks a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the corner of a nearby building that's the perfect spot to hide and plot from, "Prepared?" A world of curiosity fills that one word turning the request for an explination into a demand as much as anything else.

Hope has a whole lot of stories when it comes to evil, vile creatures of darkness. A plethora of them. She's not the poster girl for the FotS for no reason. "Actually, I don't know him, but he accosted me on campus one night and I barely got away." There is a vampire she does know, but she's trying hard to ignore his existence.

"Five bags coming right up. One moment." Reaching under the table, she grabs cutesy little gift bags of varying pastel colors. The girl obviously has something for light colors, and cheerful colors. Five of the containers are gently placed in the bags and she even goes so far as to tie each with a pretty ribbon.

"Your voice sounds familiar for some reason," she comments as she gets a plastic bag to set all the bags into so the girl has less to carry.

"Oh," Hope says with a grin, turning to her booth mates. They lift up a curtain and reveal a series of hoses hooked up through the back of the booth. "They balloon this booth every time they see it. This time, they decided to fight back."

It's probably a good thing for her that Ian /is/ one of those creatures of darkness, though not limited by light in the least. Not /sun/ light, anyway. Otherwise she'd likely be a lot more timid and fearful now that the existance of vampires has been confirmed. She nods when given the little story and grimaces in sympathy, "I hear they can be pretty horrible…" As the other girl packs up the silver mace for her friends, the African American girl rocks back slightly on her heels, her hands still in her pockets. She nods and watches in amusement as each canister is turned into a pretty little gift package, looking entirely unconcerned about the idea of frat boys and their water balloons. It's not like she'll met or anything, after all.

When her voice is recognized, she shrugs, "I'm on the campus radio. You've probably heard me there." She seems almost indifferent that the other girl might listen to her, "I play a lot of indie bands for my time slot." Indie bands of all genres, "Get to interview a couple of them when they're avalible."

There's a soft, highly amused laugh from Ian and she shakes her head at the thought of getting even with the guys and she steps aside so that she can look at the corner where a couple of frat boys can be seen talking to others that are out of sight, "Should be entertaining." There's a small pause before she looks back to Hope, "I'm Ian, by the way."

"Ian? That's an unusual name for a girl." She doesn't seem disturbed by it though. "Hope," she offers by way of a name. With the packages all neatly bagged, she offers the plastic handles out to the other girl. "A DJ, huh? So you know how to work all the equipment? Do you have any of your own?" It may seem like a strange bombardment of questioning, but there's a reason for it which will be revealed eventually.

"Vampires are honestly the most awful creatures in existence. Parasites. Leeches." Making a face of disgust, she pushes through that with a smile. "I've got a lot of reasons for not liking them, most of which stem from my best friend being killed by one and my sister being driven slightly insane." There's no pause, no worry about telling a complete stranger this story. She'll tell it to anyone that even remotely questions her on her dislike of vampires.

Noting the direction that Ian looks, she peeks around the side of the booth. Hopefully the retaliation will be all good-natured fun.

Ian shrugs, "Ian. My mum and dad had a pretty wicked sense of humor. It's short for Ianthe." She offers a small smile as she's handed the bag and loops the handles over one arm before she crosses them over her chest at the bombardment of questions, another amused look crossing her face, "I know enough to get by, anyway…" Her answer is cautious. She doesn't want to get involved in anything illegal, after all: No unliscenced radio stations for her, thank you very much! "I don't have anything myself, but I have access to the school's as long as I sign up for time." Not to mention her little radio show.

She grimaces when she hears just why this other girl doesn't like vampires and shakes her head, "That rots. I guess there's evil people of all kinds, though. Human or vampire." She's a little more willing to live and let live- er… let un-live? She shakes her head at that little distinction and grimaces again, "Did they ever catch the one that did it?" Surely /someone/ must have done something to make things right, after all.

That's when the guys decide to strike! The two that are already in view start rushing for the booth, though, apparently, they're just a distraction. A larger group of frat boys comes rushing from the other direction, arms laiden with balloons to pelt the girls at the booth.

"Ianthe? But that's really pretty! Why don't you use it?" That may be stepping over the bounds a little, but it really is a beautiful name to Hope. Watching as the girl gets cautious, Hope giggles. "Nothing bad, I promise. I'm getting married at the end of the summer, and the DJ for our reception canceled out due to overbooking. The pay is pretty decent. Four hundred for the night. Three if we have to rent the equipment. I can give you my number if you'd like, and you can let me know what you think after you have time to think about i— "

From the corner of her eye, she spots the guys. "One moment!" Ducking down behind the booth, she turns the water on. While the other girls and merchandise get soaked, they also grab the hoses and start to spray back at the boys. Hope peeks her head up just enough so that her eyes are at table level. While the girls spray, she slips out from under the table crawling by Ianthe's feet really quick like. Her job? A really big hose that's coiled up beside the booth. The power from the spray is enough to knock her back, but it should also be enough to ping off one or two of the guys.

Except that she gets a balloon to the head for her troubles which leaves the droplets of water cascading down her face and shoulders. Reaching up to pluck off the busted balloon, she shakes her head and slips back into the booth. "Okay, that hurt, but I don't think they'll bother the booth after this." At least not for the rest of the day, which is all Hope cares about.

"They never caught her? Him? I don't know. I didn't see anything up close, and so far as I know that vile creature is still loose."

Ian grimaces at the gushing over her name and just shakes her head. Yeah, Ianthe is an unusual name and could be considered a pretty one, but it's not one that she's particularly fond of. She would much rather have been a Jane or something like that. As Hope starts about her planned wedding, a small smile pulls at the corners of the dark skinned woman's face and she nods, "I don't have any equipment, but I know where I can get some cheap." And if it's still a couple of months away, then she has time to look into getting what she'd need.

She blinks a couple of times and steps back out of the way of the barage. She might not be made of sugar, but that doesn't mean that she wants to get wet anymore than the next girl. Blatant laughter dances in her dark brown eyes, though she manages to hold it in and not actually let out more than a short little giggle.

The guys are caught off guard by the retaliation and quickly turn tail and run, their job finished. For the moment, anyway. Maybe they will think twice before messing with the Take Back the Night girls?

Then again, maybe not.

Ian winces in sympathy for the balloon to the head and wipes at the water that splashed her pink pearl snap shirt, sighing softly, "Well, that was interesting…" Just then one of the guys turns and throws his last balloon, nailing the DJ in the chest, "GAH!" The bag in her arms catches some of the water and she quickly steps up to the table to rescue the packages from drowning, cursing softly to herself as she dumps the little bit of water out of the bag.

She sighs again, "Well, let me go ahead and get your number and I'll call you for details later." Pause, "Right now, I need to get back home and change…" A wet, thin cotton shirt isn't something she wants to be running around in all day, after all. Especially not when it's a light colored shirt.

The unexpected return of the balloons to hit the DJ catches Hope by surprise. She looks fairly displeased at it. With a frown, she moves toward her purse at the back of the booth, and extracts a little pink card. Her name and number are written on it, then she reaches up to grab an only slightly damp hoodie with the Light of Day Institute Logo on it. "Here, you can borrow this to get somewhere you can change. It'll stop the stares." Hope made sure to get her hoodie larger than normal so that she could wear a sweater under it. So it should fit.

"Perfect! I'll look forward to hearing from you then. Please don't feel obligated to take it on either. I just know what it's like to be in university and want the extra cash. I'd rather offer the job to someone that would have fun doing it and benefit from the money, than look for another company that might flake."

Ian gives the other girl a greatful look and slips into the hoodie, "Thanks. I'll bring it back by after while." Or call her to arrange to give it back later, one. She smiles as the card if offered and tucks it into her, fortunately dry, back pocket before she packs up the bag of silver mace again and loops it back over her arm, "I'll give you a call about the job later, too. Make sure of all the details and such." She has to find out what day and time it is and whether it falls during the full moon, after all.

With that, the dark skinned girl offers a little wave and turns to head for the dorms, "Thanks, Hope. I'll give you a call later and we'll work out all the details." And maybe, just maybe, she'll finally have enough money to be able to afford to actually buy that equipment that she wants and get more gigs like the one she was just offered.

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