Fear in the Graveyard
| Fear in the Graveyard | |
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| Players | Uptown After having seen each other only in passing a few times, Faith and Fi meet properly. |
+----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ Cemeteries at night have a reputation for being creepy places. And you know, maybe some of them are. But what they are mostly, is quiet. Graceland is a quiet piece of history tucked into the city, the tall walls and rows of monuments drowning out a lot of the noise. It's dark, and it's -quiet-. But it's not empty. Because there's Faith, standing before the wandering monument of Inez, that statue of death. Tonight? The hoodie is worn, but the hood is actually down, her black hair allowed to be free. But the sunglasses remain in place, almost a permanent fixture for the pale woman. She's standing, almost statue still, just staring at the monument in silent contemplation. +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ To other eyes, the footsteps that fall quietly on one of the nearby paths would have been heralded first by the soft glow of light that surrounds their owner. But in the here and now, there is just the hushed but not stealthy footsteps, the jingling of keys in a bag, as a young woman makes her way slowly through the area. The moonlight seems to catch her pale skin perhaps more than it should--and even in the dim light her flaming copper hair is a splash of color. She might even be somewhat familiar from the other night, as Fiametta was sitting at Solomon's table, even if she didn't speak audibly during the hubub. Then again, there was a LOT to look at that evening. But Fiametta is distracted, frowning at a scrap of paper in her hand. She's dressed in slim fitting denim cutoff shorts, their frayed edges just barely visible past the oversized black hoodie she has thrown on. White slipon sneakers are on her feet. A black tote bag is slung over one shoulder, with a bouquet of sad wilted flowers droopily poking out of the top. "Well. /Fuck/ me." It's muttered barely above a whisper, the tone exasperated. +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ The noise is a distraction, and it captures Faith's attention. It's a moment of contemplation, the consideration to disappear into the shadows and become mostly unperceivable. But there's enough curiosity to spy whoever might also be considering the graveyard a place to wander at night. So she lifts the hood back over her head, and moves quietly, finding the path that finds Fiametta upon it. She doesn't hide, not really, but she is a bit naturally quiet, with that tendency to try and go unnoticed. Once she finds who she's looking for, rounding a corner and just pausing in her steps. It's all taken in, because despite the sunglasses, Faith can see perfectly in the dark. Paper, and an exasperated tone, cause her to just ask a single word. "Lost?" +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ Clearly, the redhead isn't expecting to find anyone else here, at least not behind her. And definitely not anyone who she doesn't hear, until they speak. But there's just a little tingle, maybe that sense of someone looking at you right between the shoulder blades almost immediately before--because of course there is in some creepy haunted graveyard even if it's in a beautiful setting. She stiffens rather than screams. She does drop the scrap of paper, as she whirls to face the direction of the voice, now freed hand slipping into the pocket of her hoodie. Fiametta doesn't run though, at least not yet. Instead she narrows her eyes until Faith's shape is more clear in them. "Yeah," she says, almost defiantly. The poor droop flowers are still flopping a bit from the sudden movement of the bag on the young woman's shoulder. But she pauses in silence, eyes narrowing as she takes in the sunglasses at night, glinting from the hood. Well, Faith doesn't look like a cemetary rent-a-cop, so she might relax, just a bit. "You're not here for any weird stuff, are you?" +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ Faith keeps a respectful distance, doing what she can to appear as non-threatening as possible. She even lifts her hands, palms towards Fiametta, in a gesture of peace. She watches the paper fall, remaining still otherwise before looking up at Fiametta proper. "Weird stuff," she echoes, her hands lowering to rest back at her sides once more. "Just what kind of weird stuff do you think I'm into? Your flowers look like they've seen better nights though." A brief curve of her lips, a smirk really, and she gestures. "I remember you, don't I? There was a night that I had some business with Roman at his establishment." +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "I don't know," Fi admits, shrugging a little. "Could be all sorts of stuff. Looking for a party, gonna swipe something off a grave, dance around naked--" she looks up at the sky briefly. "Well, probably people don't do that /right/ now," she admits. Though the mention of business with Roman, now that opens up a whole new realm of possibilities of weird stuff. "The fancy stadium thing too," she adds, suddenly. "Though maybe not. There were a lot of new faces to me there." She relaxes, very slightly, tucking a curling strand of hair behind one ear. "I work at one of Roman's clubs," she explains. "Are you--" But she stops herself. "No, that's rude to ask. Lots of different kinds of people hang out in graveyards." She purses her lips thoughtfully. "Actually I think the nicest person I know likes 'em." She stoops to pick up her piece of paper, and stuff it back into her pocket, and then finally withdrawing her hand for good. "Flowers don't always like me," she admits. "I'm not great at picking them out." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "Those all sound frightfully mundane and not at all weird," Faith says with amusement, though the emotion doesn't really touch her face, "Well, maybe dancing around naked in on a grave edges that way, but no, I'm not here for anything but to remember. It's all very normal, I promise. If a little bit unexciting." She shrugs too, and nods a little. "Lots of new faces, yes." She does step a little bit closer once the other woman appears to have relaxed some, and both her hands are free. "Oh, you might as well ask." She notes of the question that was thought better of. "I don't really hang out in graveyards very often." Her hands clasp together as she considers further, reverting to that almost statue still pose. "Are you looking for somewhere in particular to place the flowers? Most people come during the day for that, don't they?" +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ The late summer evening is surely balmy, but for those sensitive to such things, despite her pale appearance, the young woman exudes a feverish warmth. "Oh? You got people here?" The tone is inquisitive, but polite. "I don't, but I promised someone else I would." Fiametta's smile is uneven, a little rueful. Or embarrassed. "I almost forgot. I keep late hours these days, you know? But I remembered just in time." Curious stormy blue eyes look Faith over, even if the other woman is mostly obscured. "You gonna do business with Roman?" she asks. "Like fighting and stuff?" While Faith perhaps doesn't LOOK like a pit fighter right now, Fi seems to have a healthy respect for appearances often being very deceiving. "Not that you couldn't be a dancer too, but if you were I'd probably have seen you more often," she points out. +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ Fabric rustles as Faith shakes her head, a soft sound. "Not here, no. But sometimes, it doesn't necessarily matter where the bones are buried, it's still a good place to remember all the same. It has the right ... atmosphere." She nods then, after considering the word. It feels appropriate. "But I do understand keeping late hours, of course." Another, smaller, shake of her head. "No, I don't really intend to work in any of his establishments. I was there to talk about some of the issues we have with our ... friends living down below. Discussed at the stadium, yes?" She nods. "But, I probably couldn't be a dancer either, anyway. I have a tendency to make people a little nervous, and get accused of doing weird stuff." There's a smile there, something sharp, but really, it's almost like it's directed at herself rather than anyone else; full of self-deprecation. "My name is Faith, by the way." +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "It's a pretty place, during the day. Or at night," Fi says softly, glancing around once more. "I really like some of the monuments. I know a couple of people that like to get away from everything else here. Easy to get purposefully lost in, I guess." She considers. "Do you know your way around this place? I know I'm in the wrong spot. I've been once before, but that was during the day, and honestly, I wasn't paying that much attention." But as the haunt introduces herself, she suddenly beams, smile bright even in the darkness. "Oh yes, I do remember that now. I'm going to help one way or the other. I'd never heard of people worshiping a fire anything before. And a hunt is--" there's a gleam to her eyes for a moment. "Well. Not been on one for a long time." But she considers Faith solemnly for a moment. "Do you wanna dance? I mean, trust me, there are people who like an edge. But it's okay to not want to either." She seems to kind of expect that. "I'm Fiametta." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "Not as well as I'd like, but perhaps I know my way better than you? What are you trying to find?" Faith seems content enough to be of assistance at the very least, nodding along. "But I do like the quiet and the dark from time to time, yes. Everything looks different at night, hmm? I wouldn't know, really." Her shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's not so much an ... edge. But you're not wrong, sometimes people are drawn to it rather than pushed away. But no. I don't really want to dance." A grin there, teeth flashing, before a quick gesture has her pointing at the other woman in sudden recollection. "Fiametta, that's right. I remember -- are you named for the ballet?" Honest curiosity there, and after all she did once refer to the name as 'interesting.' But wait! "You hunt?" It's a quick follow up question, no judgment, as Faith too well knows about deceptive appearances. +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "I think so," Fi says, scrunching her nose a little, as if it helps her to think, to remember. But she looks shyly pleased. "Do you enjoy dance performances? Of different kinds." Her voice, already soft, grows a little more hushed for a moment, until she brightens. "I do. Perhaps not in the same way as...well, those that hunt with fang and claw. Though even some of /us/ do, I suppose." She reaches into her hoodie pocket and withdraws the slip of paper. It's got a number written on it; in truth she's not that far off. Maybe about three pathways down. "It's still an important thing to do, even for us. Though I don't think everyone would /call/ it that." She shrugs a little. "Probably they don't like to think of it that way. But I don't mind." She smiles, almost sweetly, but it's got a little bit too much of a gleam. +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "You think so?" Faith echoes the statement, faintly confused perhaps, but then again. Plenty of people might not know about their own name. "I like to watch people." She explains, and then pauses, considers, and adds, with a little bit of awkwardness to her, "Which is probably about as weird as it sounds, actually." Faith steps closer then, to look down at the slip of paper, considering it and looking up and around. "Ahh. You've just taken a turn a little too early. It's this way." And then she's going to set off! Just like that. "You know, I don't know too much about your people really. And when I say 'I don't know too much', I really mean, basically nothing. But ... what would people call it, instead?" +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "Peoplewatching is nice," Fi shakes her head. "Even if you're not hunting. I like wandering the city too, there's so many interesting things to find. But I like watching people most of all. It's strange, isn't it? To be a little like...them. And yet, always reminded how you are not, and won't ever be. I think that's what I like about Satin," she observes. "You do get to see so many humans. And yet, it's not lonely because there's Others around you too." The copper-haired young woman grows thoughtful. "I suppose most would call it harvesting. Most of the time people don't even know. But I like to chase after people who are doing things they shouldn't. You know, the ones that think /they're/ the predators." She smiles, slowly. "The best tasting harvest comes from those who suddenly realize that /they're/ the prey, not the defenseless ones they've been stalking." She lifts a shoulder. "It's only one person at a time. But maybe it keeps someone else safe that night. And it's fun." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ Faith is rather quiet for a few moments, just thoughtful in the dark. "It seems," she says in a soft voice after that time passes, "we are more alike than I would have expected. Sometimes, I find it an exercise in self-loathing. But most of the time, yeah. It is good to try and remember what I was. But, as I said, I do have a bothersome tendency to make the humans feel a bit nervous around me just by being." She shrugs, as though to suggest it simply is what it is. Listening to the explanation, Faith can't help bit put on a little bit of a sharp smile herself. "Well, that is certainly interesting. Harvesting, huh? Do people get ... harmed?" Again, no judgment, not from a vampire, it's just an educational curiosity on something she doesn't really understand. "But it seems like, with a bit of time, we may get along just fine, Fiametta. I do not mind the taste of fear myself, though I try not to torment people overmuch." +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "Some of us can inspire that too," Fiametta says, excitedly. "Not /everyone/ without trying, that is. But something quiet. They think you are looking at them too long. Maybe they want your attention, they're afraid of getting it, but then even more afraid once they have it." Possibly, were she not trying hard to be respectful and good, it would be tempting to do something like fistbump Faith. Giving people the creeps FTW. "Not like getting torn apart by one of those big wolves losing their shit, or like actually eating people. Scaring someone might give them a thrill afterwards, or they might freak out and jump off a garage roof," she says. "It's not usually something that kills anyone. But meddling with anyone, I mean, there's always unintended consequences, right? So it's something to be careful with. And not go too crazy." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "That's ... a very good summary." Faith says, with a bit of surprise in her tone there, nodding. "They find every excuse to leave, they tense up in my presence, and then after I pass give a nervous laugh of relief and mutter something to their friends about the weird woman with the weird sunglasses at night. I let them think that's what's weird about me, sure." She nods in thought. "Do you freak people out on garage roofs often? Is there a trackable spike of people leaping off them when you're in town?" She asks, with more than a little amusement creeping into her tone there, but no actual laughter. A gesture, a sort of wave of her hand, as though moving on from the thought. "I know what you mean though, I'm sure you're careful." And then, she gets a little bit awkward. "I won't lie, it would be interesting to see you work sometime. Not the dancing, obviously. Not that it wouldn't also be interesting." +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "No...but might be that some asshole runs his car into a utility pole trying to run away, instead of trying to find just the right parking spot to be waiting for his favorite girl to get off work," Fi admits. "Or another asshole won't ever be able to go back to that particular bar without worrying that he might see me there. Knowing that I know about the time he pissed himself when he realized he bit off a little more than he could chew that one time. Or giving the stalky type a taste of their own medicine. Some people handle that better than others, you know?" But the smile returns, and it lights her eyes, still with just a touch of that strange shyness. "There's something delicious about being someone who can invoke that fear. And you really don't even have to try? That's delightful, Faith." Is that creepy? Maybe. But the wide dark blue eyes betray no sarcasm. "Don't you use that when you hunt how you hunt?" Fiametta curls a wayward wave of copper around a finger, thoughtfully. "Though maybe you don't like to go after scumbags like me. I don't have to, but they're my favorites." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "I see. And this is how you hunt? Or. Harvest. Is it something that you -must- do, or simply like to do?" Faith wonders, adding after a moment, "If I am prying too much, do tell me. I know we all have our healthy paranoias. But, with things as they are, and the likelihood of many of us having to work together, I am trying to foster some spirit of cooperation. And some idea of our capabilities would likely assist." She shrugs, though, curious but not concerned terribly if answers are not forthcoming. "I do enjoy it, though I don't find it as useful for hunting. I'm very good at not being seen, if I'm honest." She nods, glancing aside at Fiametta proper, considering. "The sorts of people you're talking about, I don't know. It is a good theory -- I do understand the appeal -- but I do need to actually get my hands on someone of course. So to speak." Beat. "That kind of person is more likely to fight back. For a moment, anyway, but ... a lot can happen in a moment." +----+ Fiametta +--------------------------------------------------------------+ "I think it's something a little different for everyone," Fi admits. "But I..." she stops to think for a moment, before shrugging a bit. "It's part of who I am. Most of the people I know are a little gentler, I suppose. They don't want to scare anyone, so they don't have to. Not everyone feeds on fear. But working together--I mean I assume that anyone who shows up to go do something, they'll need to have eaten before the party anyway, right? So they're strong and ready to do whatever it is that they can do. Feeding's just a means to an end, even if it's enjoyable?" But the luminous young woman nods again. "Yes. It's very important to pick the right one, or get lucky. There's plenty out there that is ready to surprise /us/." There's a small sound from her bag, soft, but undoubtedly an alarm. "I should go," she says softly. "I'm almost out of time, for these..." she indicates the even sadder flowers in her bag. "But maybe we should talk some other time? I like talking to you." She rummages through her back to turn off the phone alarm, and then to withdraw a small card, with just a number on it. She holds it out to Faith, to accept if she wishes. "I'm at Satin a lot too. But sometimes it's nice to have a more direct way of getting in touch. If you want." +----+ Faith +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ "Right, but if I don't feed, I will wither away to nothing and stop waking up until someone comes along and feeds me." Faith supplies with a nod. "That's what I mean by necessary, is all. So it's more than just a means to an end, or rather, the end is being able to just keep on keeping on." She pauses then, her head tilting slightly at the sound of the alarm, and watching as Fiametta goes rummaging. "It seems several people keep trying to draw me back to Satin, on a regular basis," she says in a dry sort of tone, taking the card and giving it just a quick, casual glance before slipping it into her pocket. "It has been a very great pleasure and a surprisingly pleasant evening, Fiametta. Not usually what I come here for, but I'll take it. I hope the rest of your night goes well." | |