Texas State Fairgrounds
Characters: |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
The sun has set and the waning moon is high, occasionally filtered by a roving cloud. Corey emerges from the Cottonbowl, a fairly big grin on his face. He carries a satchel with him, this evening, and is dressed not-quite like a construction worker and more like a project manager. As he begins to whistle, it's inevitably a stupid 80's song about go-gos and jitterbugs. It's the one earworm that's always getting stuck in his head, you see.
Glancing about, he sees there's a hotdog vendor not far from the fair park. Digging through his trousers, he finds a couple of dollars. Score! That's dinner, tonight.
Nuthin' like a good piece of street meat. Even in Dallas.
~
Vampire hearing is really great. Vampire hearing is astounding really. Ronnie's ear for music even more so. Is it any surprise that she zooms on her roller skates, seemingly out of nowhere to blast, "YOU PUT THE BOOM BOOM INTO MY HEART! YOU SEND MY SOUL SKY HIGH WHEN YOUR LOVIN' STARTS!" Whirling around the street vendor, she whistles along with Corey, then grins.
"Wake me up before you go go, don't leave me hangin' on like a yo-yo~" A somewhat appropriate song for her.
What may be surprising is the fact that from head to toe, she's dressed like Little Red Riding Hood. Red skirt, red flouncy shirt, black corset and black fishnet stockings. In her hand, an oversized basket that's trying to leap right away from her as she dances on her skates.
~
If you ask Corey, it's Ronnie's frickin' theme song. Thus, he's just not surprised that — in an entirely unexpected place — Ronnie pops up out of seeming nowhere to bop around him.
He just gives in and goes with the flow of it. What more can he do?
"Hey, Ronnie," he smiles, paying the hotdog vendor for his dinner, including a can of coke. He moves to the end of the cart to start piling on the condiments, setting the can down with a clunk.
He sees the wild swinging of the basket, somehow unsurprised to see her in the whole goth little red riding hood look. That, too, is entirely 'Ronnie'. "Careful, there, Red," he says, flashing that boyish grin of his. "You're gonna lose your supper." And that'd never do.
Of course, the hotdog vendor gets a somewhat nonplussed look on his face, at the vampire's antics. Most people aren't quite so sanguine about these things as Corey is.
~
"Corey Hart!" Ronnie would dive at him, but he's got food this time. She doesn't really want to get covered with mustard. That would stain her lovely dress!
"Huh? Red? No that's not me, that's the dog-girl." Twirling on her skates she circles him again, nearly bopping the hotdog vendor in the head with her jumpy basket. "It's okay! I like, totally won't lose'em. I mean, the basket's locked this time, right? So I won't have to like, totally roll around the city collecting these evil little vermin again. I learned last time!"
Falling into step with Corey, the besotted vampire smiles at him. "So did you like, totally think on my offer, or did you still want me to try to offer it to Frankie-George? I've like, not seen her anywhere lately though."
~
It's probably a good thing Corey's satchel is one of those messenger bag styles with a nice long strap. He swings it around out of the way and picks up his 'dog with one hand, while the other pops open the soda can. It hisses as the CO2 escapes, condensation already appearing on the outside of the tin. Picking it up as well, he flashes Ronnie a grin before taking a big enough swallow that buys him a few seconds of delay.
"I don't think Brett's gonna respond all that differently than me," he tells the vampire girl. "You can't keep both of us safe; and neither one of us will accept that kinda help if the other's left out in the cold."
It's just the way it is.
"Sorry, Ronnie."
~
"I like, totally get that. I just wish you'd like, reconsider or something. You are a total babe-o-rama, you know and I wouldn't want anyone to hurt you!" Watching him get ready to eat makes her hungry in her own weird way.
Rather than gross him out and pull out one of the bunnies to break and drain, she opens a little round hole in the top of the basket and pulls out a cold True Blood. Twisting the cap off while hugging the bottle to herself she shrugs.
"I'll still totally try to keep you both safe, whether you're mine-safe or not. You guys are like the bestest people I know. 'sides, I like, can't have you dying if you've not been skating with me yet! You both promised!"
~
The black Porsche 986 S 550 series Boxster rolls into a parking lot, its rumbling engine silenced as the driver turns off the ignition. Stepping out of the sportscar, Darcy glances around the large exspanse of the Fairgrounds. He has just escaped an unexpected (and probably unpleasant) meeting with another vampire, and is happy to lose himself around the carefree faces of the human throng out to enjoy some cheap entertainment in the summer night. As he walks past numerous skee-ball and carnival stalls, the vampire spots two figures who are definately unlike the others: the one is obviously of his kind, that is, the undead variety; and the other, well, he smells swampy.
"How cute. A baby vampire," Darcy muses, walking toward the pair. "And is this your snack for the evening?"
Darcy's brown eyes settle upon Corey, considering the human for a moment. "Out to ride the wheel, human?"
"Surely, you must learn to cultivate your tastes, yes?" Darcy remarks, turning his attention back to Ronnie.
~
Corey chuckles at Ronnie. "We did, didn't we? I'll have to remind Brett about that, next time I see him."
God knows Corey'd much sooner go rollerskating than bowling. But, that's not saying much.
He shoves one end of the hotdog in his mouth and rips it off, chewing with gusto. (Best way to enjoy street dogs. Really.)
"Whatcha been up to, meantime?" he wonders.
Before he can add a guess to that, however, the more arrogant vampire makes his presence known. The unpleasantness of his presence runs up and down Corey's spine in a way Ronnie's presence never really has.
The shifter arches his brow faintly, a little nonplussed by the interruption. "Nope," he says in answer to the elder vampire's question. He doesn't volunteer any more than that, however. That guy's definitely not the type to invite home for poker.
~
"Dude, they like totally have this rockin' night at the roller rink over in the west part of the city. I like, went skating with Red, and Coco, and this other total babe-o-rama, even though he like doesn't hold a candle to you in anyway." Ronnie sips from the bottle of True Blood quite daintily amusingly enough. She even licks her lips to catch any dropped fake blood.
"Huh?" Turning to stare at the new vampire her eyes squint into narrowed slits. "Dude, gross. He's like swampy." Human blood? Totally gross in Ronnie's skewed view of the world. "But I've totally got another bottle of beige if you want?" She reaches for the basket, sliding forward on her skates a bit.
A bunny ear peeks out the top of the basket as she opens the circular hole again. "Ohh! You can totally have some liquid evil though. I like, totally got plenty of that in the basket."
While she's okay with being friendly and all, she shoots Corey a glance. Then seems to get an almost feral look about her. Whether he accepts it or not, Corey is hers for now. She promised to keep him safe.
~
"No, thank you. I have just eaten Cantones," the vampire answers. An eyebrow arches on Darcy's forehead as he peers at the basket. "What exactly do you have in there?" he asks. His brown eyes shift from Ronnie to Corey before returning back to Ronnie. "Yes, I do detect a rather unsavoury smell about him. Only necessary in a pinch, I should expect." His eyes are once more on the basket. "Seriously, little girl, what is in the basket?"
~
Vampires. Real not-stuck-in-the-80's vampires, that is. They're about as fun as a toothache, apparently.
Corey makes a silent note to self to go out of his way to avoid them, in the future. Unsavory smell, indeed.
Blame it on the mustard.
He leans a hip against a nearby bench, letting his satchel rest against the back of the bench. Another swallow of coke. Another bite of street dog. He notes the look in Ronnie's eye.
Great. Let's not put Loopy's resolve to the test. Really.
Corey wrinkles his nose very briefly, eyes narrowing for a moment before returning to what passes for neutral on his face — which is to say an openly wary expression. He's always sucked at inconspicuous emotion.
~
"Duh," Ronnie's very serious reply comes to the older vampire. "Liquid evil… and beige. But I like only brought two bottles of beige, and only in case I ran into Jannie."
Cautiously, she moves to situate herself between Corey and Darcy. No one is going to get to Corey without coming through her.
"Bunnies. Liquid evil, I mean. Hoppity, twitchy, evil critters." To prove it, she yanks the smallest one up through the hole and dangles it in front of her as though it will keep the older vampire from hurting her. "Wil Wheaton said I should only drink the beige and like, eat the bunnies. No eating swampy humans."
Nose-wrinkle.
~
Darcy is not amused. "Damn colonials, will no one teach them how to speak?" he murmurs aloud. The sight of a hare popping out of the basket is not exactly what he expected, but Darcy does not waste time to grab the rodent from Ronnie's outstretched hand. "What nonsense is this? You are keeping these pests as pets? Wretched vermin." In a fluid movement, he mercilessly snaps the rabbit's neck and tosses its limp body away somewhere over his left shoulder. Not only would this cause outrage amongst PETA members the world over, but it causes a little blond girl with pigtails holding a balloon and cotton candy standing some two-hundred meters away to scream in terror. Apparently Darcy has a good arm.
"I told you. I already ate Cantonese." It is slowly starting to dawn upon him that Ronnie is perhaps totally insane. He turns to face Corey. "Human, go and - well, amuse yourself. I wish to speak with this one alone." The words are not polite, nor are they a request.
~
Corey watches the rabbit fly and winces as the kid screams. It carries.
Still, the discretion that is the better part of valor has rarely been a part of the shifter's make up. Indeed, he's been known long before now to be something a rash, impulsive sort. Especially when it comes to getting himself into trouble.
"I got a better idea," he says, unslinging his satchel and resting it on the bench, putting the coke can down beside it. "How 'bout you just leave her alone, instead?" He's not doing the macho, in-your-face, I'm-the-bigger-man, pissing-contest thing by any means. Not quite that stupid. But there's a tone to his voice that suggests he's not really happy the other male is pushing the female around. But, he's trying to be reasonable. "She's not hurting anyone. Heck, do you even know her?" He glances to Ronnie to see if she knows him at all.
It's hard to tell with her.
"Seriously, guy. We were minding our own business. Why don't you do the same?"
~
"That. Was. Like. Totally. My. Dinner." Ronnie glares at the other vampire.
Her knight in shining sunglasses-at-night comes to her rescue, and were te situation not totally dire at the moment, she'd swoon with those little hearts floating about her head. "It's okay, Corey Hart. He'll totally have to answer to Wil Wheaton." For all her crazy, Ronnie has absolute loyalty to the powers-that-be types.
"I don't wanna talk to you alone. You can like, talk to me in the presence of my friend, in the presence of Wil Wheaton, or Devo. But I'm totally not going to be alone with anyone who'd throw a bunny away and have it land on like, some poor little kid."
Just to be on the safe side, Ronnie keeps herself between Corey and the vampire though.
~
"Who the hell is Will Wheaton?" Darcy answers Ronnie. His theory that she is totally cracked is starting to gain more strength. Before following up on that line of conversation, however, Darcy's brown eyes turn to settle upon Corey's own. "I suggest you muzzle your snout, you barking mongrel, before you find out what it is like to be bitten!" His voice has dropped an octave, and its gravity suggests not only the age but also the potential ferocity of its speaker.
"Now," Darcy continues, fixing Corey directly with his eyes to draw the shifter into the magnetism of his charistmatic and glamourous presence, "Why do you not walk over to that carnival stand, and spend every last dollar you have throwing rings at those whiskey bottles until you win the gigantic stuffed rabbit for your friend, yes?"
His instructions finished, Darcy now ignores Corey and looks back at Ronnie. He speaks to her with the stern severity of an elder to a disobedient child. "Silence. Enough of your simpering. Who is your Maker?"
~
Corey is not stupid enough to look the vampire in the eyes. He's been warned about that. Several times, and vehemently. Heck, he doesn't even look Ronnie in the eyes as a matter of course.
In fact, however, there are several warnings that go through his head right now. Not the least of which is: Don't mess with a freakin' vampire, you blasted idiot!
"I suck at that game," he retorts, staying where he is. "You wanna talk to the lady, talk to her. But, if the conversation isn't fit for polite company, I suggest you drop it." Not, mind, that he has the slightest hope of making the vampire take it elsewhere.
That's why it's just a suggestion.
He reaches out to lay a light hand on Ronnie's shoulder as a sort of tacit moral support.
~
In a complete moment of clarity, Ronnie eyes Darcy.
"You will not feed from that which is mine, or I'll take you before the Magister."
Granted the claim may not be amicable, but her insanity may help in that regard.
The moment passes quickly though, and she frowns at him. "Wil Wheaton is like totally the most important vampire in all of Texas." Darcy may be an elder, but she only takes orders from the big trio, of which he does not belong. "Don't like, make me call him and tell him you're harassing me. He totally won't like it." People pick on Ronnie all the time, and most of the time she puts up with it.
The difference this time is that he decided to mess with someone she promised to protect.
"I totally owe you no explanations." It's not as though she knows who her Maker is anyhow. She's been shuffled around so much she likely thinks her Maker is Debbie Gibson at this point.
"Corey Hart, do you like have one of those weird little phones? I'm gonna call Wil Wheaton, or Devo, or worse the icy sheriff lady."
The hand on her shoulder causes her to blink and smile.
He touched her! Willingly at that! <3
~
"Listen, you simpering, raving lunatic," Darcy says, "I do not want to eat your pet. He has a rank smell." Irritation is turning into annoyance; not only is Ronnie not proving difficult, but Corey is looking away from his eyes and resiting his attempts to ensare him. This is not going well.
"How I miss my time at Dracula's court," he murmurs to himself, glancing up at the lights and colourful banners around the Fairground, "Humans knew their place. Even when they proved tiresome, and everything would go black and I would wake up surrounded by body parts, there was still such an air of civility in the air." His brown eyes look back at Corey. Is this about to be another one of those times? Hopefully not.
"I shan't understand what you see in him, my dear. Ugly, tallow look. Disproportioned. Rank, cheesy smell to the blood. But you are young, yes, I can feel it. What is your name?" Darcy speaks directly to Ronnie. If Corey is not going to leave them alone to talk, the British vampire will just pretend that he is not there; and hopefully that will be enough to keep him from drifting into one of his ruthless spells.
~
Corey glances to Ronnie at the request for the phone. From out of a holster on his hip, he slips out his cell. "Yeah," he says. "Right here." He knows the Sheriff, actually. A little wolfie told him who she was, after they'd met. 'Wil Wheaton' is still a mystery to him. He somehow doubts that the guy who played Wesley Crusher ended up as a vamp.
Then again, you never know.
He flips the phone open. "Hit the green button to send, after you've dialed."
For just a moment, he wishes he was a werewolf, rather than a simple shifter. As helpful as the multiple animal forms can be, the extra strength and speed would make him a whole lot happier, right now.
If he lives through this, Brett's gonna kill him.
Corey gave you Corey's Cell.
~
Did he just call her crazy? Ronnie heard him call her a lunatic. She knows Wil Wheaton told her not to throw things at people, but she can't help it. She may not be wearing leg warmers at the moment, but rest assured. There are leg warmers hidden within the costume. Rainbow colored ones. That are tossed at Darcy.
Fat lot of good that will do, but it should give Corey enough warning that she's about to have a tantrum of sorts.
"Dude, you know, if like every vampire that claimed to have been at Dracula's court actually was, there would be like no humans in Transylvania anymore." Hmph.
Once she's got the little phone thingy, Ronnie punches in the numbers. Tongue stuck out between her teeth. Even so, the speed at which she dials is almost beyond what the human eye can comprehend.
"Like, hiiiii, icy dude! There's this thirty-something old-timey vampire here harassing me'n'mine!" Angry, narrowed eyes set to Darcy. "Dunno his name, but he like threatened to bite the Corey of my heart, and seems to be totally British or something." The phone is handed back to Corey to hang up, since she's got no clue how to use the mini phones. Then she glares at Darcy. "The icy sheriff lady is on her way."
You gave Corey's Cell to Corey.
~
"Dvs. astfel de un pusti," Darcy answers in Romanian, now thoroughly annoyed with Ronnie. "To travel from Vienna to Constantinople, you have to pass through Dracula's kingdom. Nearly /everyone/ does." What does she know anyway? And what are those — leg-warmers? He stays immobile, only looking down at the weird clothing. "What are those? By Jove, I thought those passed out of style in that dreadful 1980s fad twenty years ago."
While Darcy is not very concerned about Ronnie or Corey, except that the one is obviously crazy and the other is insolent, and even yawns when she makes the telephone call, his expression changes immediately with her last sentence. If it were possible for the colour to pass out from his already porcelain features, it would. With a blur of movement and preternatural speed, the vampire leaps forward reaches out his left hand to try and wrap it around Ronnie's throat. With the opposite arm, he bats at Corey to knock him aside. "You did what? Phoned who! Stupid, insolent girl!" Darcy growls, his fangs exposed, in a raspy voice that betrays his two-centuries of age. "You called whom!"
~
"Mr. Darcy, do put that girl down immediately." Isobel who had been on her way home was quite less than thrilled to get the telephone call from the annoying one. Though as the youngling is in her territory, it is thus her responsibility when the Whip is otherwise occupied to answer the call and ensure the crazy little 80's child is not just running around out of her mind.
That the call came from an unknown number was just worrisome.
"You will not manhandle vampires while you are in my area. You will not cause any more fuss than you already have."
Isobel may have come swiftly on her feet after leaping out of the limousine as it was touring through the city at top speed, but it is not long after that the Sheriff's bodyguards arrive as well. Moving around the trio to block them in a four person circle.
"Shall we continue this conversation amicably or shall I have the men hoist you up on a cross and allow you to meet the sun?"
~
Okay. Yeah. The legwarmers are a big tip off that Ronnie's pissed. She's warned him about those before.
Corey takes the phone back from her and is just hanging up the phone when Darcy bats him aside. With vampire strength. The shifter is thrown back several feet, landing on his back as he stumbles.
"What the h—!!" He bites off the surprised expletive as the Sheriff and her bodyguards arrive. He would scramble to his feet, but there are far too many vampires around, now, for him to want to make any sudden moves.
Thus, he cautiously climbs back to his feet, pocketting the phone as he does.
Huh. He's now got the Sheriff's phone number.
Let's not noise that around, shall we?
~
"You touched what belongs to me," Ronnie screams.
It doesn't matter to her that Darcy is older than her, she's not about to let him just choke her. Not that she needs to breathe, so it's more or less that he's holding her up by the neck. Which results in her feet still able to move, and her knee coming up quite swiftly to his groin so that she can work herself free.
Well that, and the thumb that reaches out to gouge his eye.
"Corey!"
~
There are times when being an innocent bystander is not A. Good. Thing. Considering Mia only thought to spend the evening strolling the fairgrounds, then maybe have a drink at Absinthe, to come upon a scene like the one taking place now definitely counts as not being good. It doesn't take genius to figure three of the four people standing in that tight little group are vampires, or that one of the vampires has bodyguards. (That usually denotes important with a capital "I.")
Thus, Mia decides discretion is the better part of valor, and doesn't walk up and start chatting amiably. She does, however, hang back slightly, making use of the shadowed exterior of a building. She's already in plain sight; all they have to do is look in her direction. To reverse her direction might draw more attention than needed.
Besides, it would appear the woman speaking has things well in hand. Unlike the vampire with the uppercrust British accent who has a vampire in leg warmers (!!) literally in hand. An interesting scenario, indeed. Mia will watch from a safe distance. At least for the moment. She can't help but wince as the British Vampire bats aside the other man. Man, that had to hurt. At least the guy could get to his feet afterward.
Being the concerned person she is, Mia sighs. Slipping forward, she comes up beside the one guy who just got swatted. "Are you all right? Vampires pack quite a punch," she whispers.
~
Darcy turns his head, and Ronnie's hand gashes a thick chunk of flesh from his cheek which starts to pour dark, black blood. As for the knee? Well, it hits him squarely, and the vampire groans for a moment. He would retaliate but, considering the situation, decides against it. Ronnie is therefore speedily released, his long fingers unwrapping from the younger woman's throat, abruptly dropping her to the ground, as the British vampire takes one step back away from her. Looking around at the three beefy hirelings, Darcy is now acutely aware that he is not only trapped but in a rather sticky situation. What does a noble gentleman do in such precarious circumstances? He puts all of his chips on the table, betting on charm and good looks.
"Mistress Isobel Symon," Darcy answers, formally bowing to the Sheriff. "How might William Pemberly be at your service this evening?" The fangs have retreated inside his mouth, and only two even rows of gleaming white teeth remain. "It is such an unexpected pleasure to meet you this evening. You look as elegant, beautiful, and stunning as ever. Quite ravishing." His brown eyes flit from one vampiric bodyguard to another. No escape. Unless he could fly. Unfortunately for Darcy, he has not yet mastered that ability.
"This child and I were just becoming introduced, courtship games being such a funny diversion; but, in your marvellous presence, how could such a silly young thing compete, no? And I was just about to leave … Such a pity, but perhaps I might call upon you another time?" Darcy slowly starts to walk away, hoping that the guards make a clearing for him to exit or that Isobel does not tell him to stop. He would then, well, have to stop: which is something he definately does not want to do!
~
Once the younger vampire is dropped, Isobel steps into the center knowing that her guards will keep her protected.
"Mr. Darcy can stop being such a nuisance in my city immediately. Including the immediate removal of his V business. Do not think to charm me, it will not work."
The Sheriff of Area 9 is not so easily charmed by one who is not her immediate kin, unless it suits her to pretend to be. At the moment all she is radiating is irritation at having to come out and deal with this petty criminal herself.
"One generally does not introduce themselves to another of our kind by attacking that which they claim or hoisting them by the throat."
A nod of her head toward her men. "Gentlemen, will you kindly escort Mr. Darcy to the limousine and take him to the 'guest' suite at the estate?" A slow smirk touches her lips briefly. Make no mistake she's caught sight of Mia and will deal with her momentarily. "Surely you cannot refuse me such a visit? After all, you are a very naughty boy and did not think to present yourself to me when you returned to the city."
~
Corey coughs once as he takes a deep breath, testing his ribs. Nope. Nothing broken. Just winded. "Yeah," he says, giving the helpful bystander a brief glance. "Yeah. 'M fine." His voice drops. "Do yourself a favor," he says a wary, earnest look at the woman. He doesn't complete the sentence, however. Instead, he just jerks his head slightly off to the side. It's a gesture that basically means 'get the hell outta Dodge'.
Before he can really know if she's understood him, however, he hears Ronnie's fury and concern for him.
"I'm okay!" he calls to her. "Ronnie! Ronnie, I'm okay!"
He doesn't, however, bother to reapproach the undead group. No siree.
Not suicidal.
Honest.
~
Completely and totally unceremoniously dropped, the skate-ladden girl rolls on he ground until she crashes into her little basket.
Half a dozen bunnies (minus one) go hopping out across the paths. Ronnie watches this with wide eyes. Lip-wibbling, she makes a big show of sniffling. Tears, regular tears pour forth and she makes a grab for one.
It hops away, leaving its cotton tail behind.
Exasperatedly, she crawls toward Corey instead of getting up. "I'm like, totally sorry for that. Are you sure you're okay? You didn't like totally bop your noggin? You're not like gonna barf or anything?" From the same area she yanked out the legwarmer, she pulls out ten dollars and hands it to him.
"I'm sorry your like, dinner was ruined, Corey Hart. Get another on me." She can go without her synthetic for a while. She still has a few bunnies back at the hotel that should last her until she feels up to hunting again.
Peeking almost shyly at Mia, she adds, "Don't worry I like totally won't eat you."
~
Once she's determined the young man is, indeed, all right, Mia steps away. His head gesture is seen and understood.
But, it never pays to run away from danger.
That only attracts the danger.
Especially the predator kind of danger.
So, Mia almost casually backs up a step. Then two. Three. By the fourth step, she's ready to turn and walk away.
Mia's small, and even if she could never hope to outrun a vampire, she grew up with four older and bigger brothers. She learned how to hide well at a very early age. Small women can hide any number of places ordinary sized people don't think to look. If she can make it to the corner of the building, Mia stands a good chance at escaping notice — as long as the vampires aren't actively hunting her, of course. If they are, well … no concealment will work.
But, then Little Red Riding Hood's looking at her shyly, saying not to worry, she won't be eaten. What's a girl to say to that?
"I … ah … thanks." Though she does almost crack a joke about Japanese take out…
~
Even though he realises that the gig is up, Darcy is all smiles, polish and poise. "How could the thought have escaped my mind? How terribly rude of me. You know I tend to get distracted and amused by petty trinkets. Such an impolite oversight that I hope to speedily correct." One glance at Isobel's vampiric guards would be enough to know resistance is utterly foolhardy. Darcy is wise enough to submit, and to see his utility and good graces carry him through whatever ordeal is to come. Hopefully. "I would certainly be happy to accept your kind invitation. It is simply too generous to be refused. Who would not want the opportunity to be the King's guest, or the chance to spend time with his gorgeous child?" Darcy starts to walk toward Isobel's limosine with his 'escort' surrounding him. How the hell does she know about the V? he wonders. They probably want a cut of his action, or to make him beholden to the King now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag. One can hope? "It should be an honour to meet the King and to offer him my services, to be sure," Darcy adds to Isobel. Anything to prove his value lest they decide to, well, make good on the Cross threat. "Are you sure you would not like me procure us some Japanese food for the drive?" Darcy asks, pausing near the doorway. Guessing on the answer, Darcy steps through the opened passenger door to the limosine; and passes out of sight from the bystanders, settling himself into one of the comfortable leather seats.
~
Most vampires within the city are well aware that Isobel has plenty of means to know exactly what is going on and where it is going on even if she is not the one at the scene. One such as her has always had her ways of knowing things that were being hidden from her.
The guards escort Darcy to the limousine. One on either side of him. Just waiting for him to try and make a break for it.
"I am certain it would be, but sadly you are being brought to the estate, and not the King's home." That is to say that the estate is hers, not Will's.
"You will leave that child alone or I will deal with you here rather than waiting to deal with you in privacy."
The guards are sent off with a nod. She will catch up to them in good time.
First she has two that she must take care of. The one slinking off will be first. With speed, she races toward Mia. Tapping her on the shoulder she smiles at the woman.
Icy blue eyes seek out and attempt to lock onto Mia's. Her voice rife with the hints of glamour that bubble up. "You will forget all knowledge of what has happened here this evening, with the exception of running into the girl with the skates and the man who injured himself. You were exceedingly helpful to both and they thank you for it."
The twin-souled will be dealt with differently of course.
~
Yeah, Corey's already got that whole don't-look-'em-in-the-eyes thing going on. He's had that going on all evening, really. He doesn't even meet Ronnie's gaze directly, and he actually trusts her.
Well. More than he trusts the others, anyway. He's still mindful of the fact she's looped.
But it's not a bad loopy. Really.
He crouches as Ronnie crawls to his feet and tries to help her up. "I'm sure," he says softly, trying to avoid attracting any more attention than is inevitable.
Brett is never to know about this.
He gives Ronnie a warm smile. "I don't need the money. It's okay. I had enough." He'll not argue further with her, if she insists. But, he doesn't need to take it, just now.
If anything, he feels a little badly that she's lost her rabbits… not to mention the cold bottle of TruBlood.
Well. Maybe later he'll suggest they go hunting together. Just as long as she knows it's him and not some kitty for her to collar and cuddle.
He'd never live that down.
(Not any more than Brett has.)
~
Despite all that's gone on tonight, all Ronnie can think of when that hand comes down to help her up is that he's touching her again of his own free will. She didn't have to tackle him!
When he says he's sure that he's okay, she nods. She's got no reason to not believe him, and after all he's on his feet and looking okay.
She still waves the bill in front of him, and stuffs it down his shirt. He can buy more food later when the poor hotdog vendor isn't doing doodies in his pants thanks to the vampire altercation.
"You should like, probably not talk to anyone about anything ever, or the icy sheriff lady'll come and wipe your mind away and I like, totally don't want you to forget me!"
She watches the last evil bunny hop away, and peers at the fluffy cotton tail in her hand. "I'll have to find more dinner now." Normally she'd run off and try to catch them, but she needs to make sure the Corey of her heart gets to be safe.
~
Caught as she is, Mia doesn't really have time to make good any kind of escape. Her eyes close a moment, and she takes another step or two back, but doesn't turn away. Rather, she turns her head, but gives up on trying to get away.
Hard not to look at someone when they tap you on the shoulder. For a split second, Mia toys with refusing to look the woman in the eye. She has a good idea what's coming, if even some of the "legends" about vampries are true.
Make that, Mia hopes she knows what's coming.
Taking a deep breath, she calms herself, letting what's going to happen … well, happen.
As the memory of the events reshape themselves inside her head, Mia blinks a couple of times. The truth is buried deeply within her subconscious, so far down it will likely never surface again. She looks from the red-caped girl with no bunnies in her basket to the young man with her. The older woman? — it's as if she doesn't exist anymore.
"Glad to know you're all right, then," Mia says. "Be more careful next time, please? You could really hurt yourself if you hit your head on the way down," she tells the couple.
~
One breather down.
One to deal with.
Isobel approaches the young vampire and the twin-souled. She eyes the man quite warily.
"I have no idea what the annoyingly insane one has told you of our kind, but I suggest for your safety that you forget the majority of it if you are not involved with the Pack." As a two-natured, Corey will undoubtedly know what it is she is meaning.
"I cannot assure your safety from that imbecile in the future, so you had best keep a wide berth on the off chance he decides to toy with you."
To Ronnie she says, "Miss Potts, I would like it if you stop by to see…" Her brow actually scrunches as she says this in a way the insane one will understand. "… Wil Wheaton tomorrow so that you may tell him of what happened here this evening, as you are in his charge he will be quite happy to know you are unharmed." Or disappointed that she was not outright killed.
~
Not talk about it? Ye-ah. Corey picked up on that idea even without Ronnie's suggestion. "Not a problem," he mouths almost silently to her. Not like she can't hear it, anyway.
His hands catch at the bill that slides down his chest. He plucks it out between two buttons and stuffs it quickly into a pocket. Easier than protesting, really.
He watches Mia's glamouring, and gives her a bit of a wry smile when she cautions him to be more careful in the future. "Yeah," is his non-committal response. "Good advice."
As the Sheriff turns to him, however, he straightens unconsciously, drawing himself up to his full 6'3" height and squaring his broad shoulders. It's not that he thinks the bulk in anyway intimidates anyone left in the square, or that he thinks he can take even the weakest of the undead in the vicinity. He's not that stupid. It's just one of those things he does a) when facing a lady and b) when he's bracing for the unexpected… or just trouble in general.
He remembers her from the Renaissance Faire, however. She was the one with the incredible gown. The one Leigh was very respectful to.
"Yeah, don't worry," he says, the tension obvious in his baritone. "I'm totally good with staying about as far away from him as I possibly can."
A beat.
"And yeah. Keep my mouth shut. Got it. Not a problem."
They're not an after thought, those words. They're a fervent recognition of just how close to the edge he's skirting.
~
Just like the events never happened, Ronnie is smiling. When Corey straightens up to full height, she eyes him without shame.
"Total. Babe. O. Rama."
Then she's skating around him, tossing the fluffy cotton tail into the wind and watching it fly up before it falls and rolls along the ground. If she didn't think bunnies were the worst possible evil in the world she might feel momentarily sad for it.
The icy sheriff lady gets a nod. "I'll totally like, be there, even though it'll mean missing MTV! I want Wil Wheaton to be proud of me!" She may even think to wear a dress.
"You'd totally better not forget that you and Mr. Corey's Brother owe me skating! You way totally promised!" Then she peeks up at Corey with all his height and says, "See? I did good protecting you from the nomnoms." Smiling, she skates around him and then grabs for his hand to partially drag him off and away from any further trouble.
She's definitely not taking him off to a cave though, just getting him to safety, and then letting him be on his merry way.
~
Once Mia seems assured the young man — she really must remember to get names! — is all right, she smiles to the couple. "Well, I'd best be off. Have a good evening."
With apparently no ill effects from the glamouring, Mia continues on her way, not looking back. Unless, of course, someone else stops her from leaving.
~
The Sheriff is not entirely certain she can trust the twin-souled, but she will leave well enough alone for the remainder of the evening. If word of this night or her position gets out, it would only be by the Shifter's mouth, or the annoying ones. Those being Ronnie and Darcy.
"I will know who speaks of this if I hear about this hereafter. I will be less than pleased," she points out, tone icy and clipped. A partial threat, though just enough to ensure that Ronnie listens to her.
Turning to leave, it would seem that Isobel has an after thought.
"Do try to keep her out of trouble in the future."
Then she's off. Into the night.
~
Corey blinks at Isobel's parting admonition. Now just how is he supposed to keep Ronnie out of trouble?
Not to mention the fact that this whole mess started partly because he was, in fact, trying to keep her out of trouble.
Were he not in public, he'd swear a blue streak. But, he is in public. So, instead of swearing, he simply clacks his slack jaw shut and takes a fortifying breath before he gives Ronnie a rueful, lopsided grin.
"I won't forget the skating," he assures her. "I'll bug Brett about it when I see him next. Promise."
He expells his breath with a dry, rueful chuckle. "And, yeah. You did great, protecting me. Thanks."
Of course, now he's uncertain as to how all this stands. She made her claim public, and he didn't protest it. Sure, it was mainly 'cause he didn't want to get clocked by a demonic walking corpse, but that's not the point. His perplexity shows on his face for a few moments before he dismisses the conundrum. Time enough to sort it all out later.
He lays his hand on her shoulder a third time and gives a gentle, friendly squeeze. "Get home safe, Ronnie. I'll see you soon."
With that, he lets his smile clear and collects his satchel and half-empty coke can from the bench.
Definitely time to call it a night.