collapse

Author Topic: IC-1.1 Motel Interior1  (Read 4518 times)

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #15 on: June 09, 2011, 05:01:36 AM »
Spoiler for Hiden:
The man standing before you is about 6'1, wiry, thin, with the look of someone who only recently trimmed down in weight at the Gym before his embrace. He looks to be in his mid 20's, But his body language indicates that he has many years under his belt as a member of the undead. His face is open, welcoming, yet a little guarded. He seems as though he could be a very powerful ally, but you have a strong feeling that he is not someone you want to cross.




His dark blue button up shirt is trashed, with rips and blood stains on it- it also appears to have been singed with fire. The man himself does not appear to be wounded at all. He carries an almost imperceptible smirk on his face.
« Last Edit: June 09, 2011, 05:03:59 AM by Malavis »

Offline Voidshaper

  • Ancillus
  • ***
  • Posts: 203
Re: Interior
« Reply #16 on: June 09, 2011, 06:12:42 AM »
Abigail meets Eurotrash's blank stare with a boiling impatience that she makes no effort to downplay. Her free hand clenches into a fist, and she thinks that it might be time to get physical with this smartass. But just as she is imagining her fist blissfully buried in this man's face, there is a voice - behind her. She spins around to meet the voice, and instinctively backs away until she has a clear view of both Eurotrash and the Voice.

Mr. Voice speaks again, and Abigiail finds herself listening, cautious and unable to take her eyes off of its owner. She is more than a little concerned with how he's gotten the jump on her. And yet... the way he is standing, the way he speaks; she is...taken aback. She has spent all night (well, all her life, really) dealing with complete morons - even the oh-so-generous Pierre himself. But this Mr. Voice - something is telling Abigail he is different. He is in control. He is their leader. She isn't sure whether to be relieved or very, very afraid.

After standing dumbstruck for a moment, she decides to tread cautiously. She suddenly notices the clenched fist in front of her body, held in a defensive strike position, her body turned sideways for the attack. Forcing herself to relax (breath, breath), she quickly types something out on her cell phone and holds it up to Mr. Voice, who is clearly too far away to be able to read it.

Giving him a wary look, somewhere between impatience and pleading (Please, let him read this before jumping to conclusions), Abigail takes a few slow steps forward, holding the phone up so he can see it.

Pierre said some of our kind would be coming through town. Told me to help them.

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #17 on: June 09, 2011, 06:23:17 AM »
Burke appears taken aback for a moment at the text message on the screen, allowing a momentary expression of genuine confusion to cross his face.
Then he makes the connection. She can't talk... Interesting.
Burke watches the woman's other hand as he takes one step forward as well, indicating his willingness to participate in the interaction.
He reads the message over a few times, then rubs his chin for a moment, crossing his arms and leaning back into a nonthreatening, pensive posture.

He glances over at Tomaz, as though gauging his reaction to all of this.

"You were sent to help us? The Prince did mention that. If you were sent by Pierre, and by extension, Prince Evan, I don't suppose he told you any of our names?"
His eybrows arch a bit, the first motion of his body that seemed as though it was not made with intent.
His head cocks a very tiny bit to the side, as though assessing the trustworthiness of this woman. His eyes express no desire, simply curiosity and interest in this random woman conveniently planted in their hotel. As though someone knew all along. suspicion wars with curiosity on his face.

Offline Azrael

  • Apathetic Toreador
  • Methuselah
  • ****
  • Posts: 266
Re: Interior
« Reply #18 on: June 09, 2011, 06:26:06 AM »
Tomaz is content to enjoy the warm fuzzies he seems to get whenever Burke is around (totally hetero warm fuzzies...mostly hetero warm fuzzies), but a thought occurs to him. The pretty blonde girl's back is to him, so catching Burkes eye, he mouths: Where is that other guy?
- az

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #19 on: June 09, 2011, 06:30:44 AM »
Burke turns to Tomaz briefly, then, in response, his eyes flit to his right with a barely perceptible toss of his head in the direction of the hallway and the stairs.

His eyes return to the woman, calmingly holding her eye, unafraid but certainly not appearing interested in a fight.

Offline Voidshaper

  • Ancillus
  • ***
  • Posts: 203
Re: Interior
« Reply #20 on: June 09, 2011, 06:34:15 AM »
Abigail keys in another message on the phone, staring back up into Mr. Voice's oddly enthralling gaze.

Don't know an Evan. Don't know names. Was told to look for "Our Kind".

Offline Azrael

  • Apathetic Toreador
  • Methuselah
  • ****
  • Posts: 266
Re: Interior
« Reply #21 on: June 09, 2011, 06:36:02 AM »
Tomaz nods, then makes a face. he glances at the girl, then back at Burke, as if to say: what are we gonna do about her?
- az

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #22 on: June 09, 2011, 06:41:38 AM »
Burke's eyes narrow a tiny bit as he reads, then his eyes return to hers.

"This puts me in a bit of a difficult position, miss. On one hand, you could be sent by Pierre, the loyal emissary of Evan, the prince of the city with whom I've only recently become acquainted- you being the support that he promised to us...
On the other hand, you could be sent here by Pierre, the turncoat piece of shit who ratted us out and is responsible for the... Interesting... state of my clothing and the death of one other of 'our kind' tonight. A friend of mine, I might add.
Try to see it from my position. It makes much more sense for you to be the backup plan of an assassin than for you to be one of the cavalry, conveniently placed in every hotel within driving distance. Or am I to believe this is just a coincidence? I suppose what I'm saying is... Why should I trust that your intentions are any good at all?"
The man's eyes search hers for any kind of reaction,
you get the sense that they are looking straight through you.

Offline Azrael

  • Apathetic Toreador
  • Methuselah
  • ****
  • Posts: 266
Re: Interior
« Reply #23 on: June 09, 2011, 06:46:24 AM »
Seeing that the conversation could go several ways, Tomaz puts his hands in his pockets and waits.
- az

Offline Voidshaper

  • Ancillus
  • ***
  • Posts: 203
Re: Interior
« Reply #24 on: June 09, 2011, 06:54:26 AM »
Oh, for fuck's sake. Mr. Voice was a schemer, Abigail could tell. Most of them were, she realized, with a visible sigh. She couldn't play their game. She just took the jobs, and it got her by. That's what it took to survive now. In this world she knew she was a pawn, but a cynical pat of her liked it that way. Everyone's too busy going after the Kings to worry about pawns like me.

She typed a new message on the phone, a noticeable twitch of frustration in her posture.

Can't prove with words. You won't trust me anyway. What do you want me to do to prove it?

Offline Azrael

  • Apathetic Toreador
  • Methuselah
  • ****
  • Posts: 266
Re: Interior
« Reply #25 on: June 09, 2011, 06:57:38 AM »
Tomaz watches over the girl's shoulder as she types.

"Well, it seems to me, there's only one way to be sure you aren't a spy or assassin. Strip. Butt-naked. On the bar. While we watch."
- az

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #26 on: June 09, 2011, 06:58:14 AM »
Burke's expression softens a bit, and the beginning of a grin forms at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, knowing that I won't trust you, ironically, helps a bit. Why not tell me what Pierre said you were supposed to do once you found us?"
Burke gets a look on his face that might be regret that he is forcing her to type all of this out on her phone, as it is likely not a particularly enjoyable exercise for her to parade her weakness around in front of someone. The effects of his personality soften a bit in sympathy.

Offline Malavis

  • Antediluvian
  • *****
  • Posts: 1160
  • Legacy Of The Triangle
Re: Interior
« Reply #27 on: June 09, 2011, 06:59:28 AM »
Burke winces at Tomaz, and his shoulders shrug imperceptibly, indicating that he does not agree with what the other man is saying. He lets it hang there in the air for a moment, watching the woman's expression.

Offline Azrael

  • Apathetic Toreador
  • Methuselah
  • ****
  • Posts: 266
Re: Interior
« Reply #28 on: June 09, 2011, 07:05:39 AM »
Tomaz raises his eyebrow at Burke, as if to say: well, YOU don't have to watch, if you're not into naked ladies. Different strokes for different folks.

Tomaz notes as an afterthought that he has a very expressive face.

"Regardless, is there anything to drink around here? I'm starting to feel a little....sober."
« Last Edit: June 09, 2011, 07:07:54 AM by Azrael »
- az

Offline Voidshaper

  • Ancillus
  • ***
  • Posts: 203
Re: Interior
« Reply #29 on: June 09, 2011, 07:20:56 AM »
Abigail shoots Eurotrash a deadly glare over her shoulder, and shoves him - hard. Her hand tightens into a fist, and she looks at him with a furious hunger in her eyes. You little fuckass prick, I am going to shove my fist so far up your - Wait. Abigail hesitates, and the moment passes. She swallows her anger, visibly struggling internally with the conflict. She shakes her head slightly, and backs away two steps - being very sure to position herself in view of both men.

Moving her eyes back to Mr. Voice, she nods apologetically at what he is saying, and keys another message into her phone, her frustration falling away as she notes that he seems to be listening to her. Well, listening would imply that she actually had a voice for him to listen to. But she didn't. She couldn't give him that, and for the first time in a very long time, she feels guilty about her disorder, here in his presence.

She finishes her message and holds the phone up so Mr. Voice can see.

He said you guys would be in rough shape. Told me to give you a hand.

Waiting for him to finish reading, she begins another message.

I have a room. But those guys outside - they with you? Caused a ruckus. Might not be safe here now.