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+--- Thread: A Night to Forget (/thread-392.html)
- Natalie Grey - 08-23-2017
It occurred to her in the drifting way such thoughts do that she'd drunk too much. She could feel it in the tingling pliability of her limbs; the way the music vibrated with the blood in her veins; how her vision hazed and softened. She threaded her way through the crowd, purposefully oblivious, mind finally quiet. She danced without making eye contact, and didn't notice that she was watched -- or the man headed towards her.
- Nox - 08-23-2017
Mmmm, she was a pretty little thing, Dmitry thought to himself as he entered the dance floor and smoothly danced up to her. It was too bad he was hunting for Alistair.
She was in that comfortable dazed and drunken state and Dmitry placed a hand on her hip and guided her against his body. It was a brazen move, but he wanted to get this over with so he didn't waste the entire night trying to get a specimen for Alistair, it'd be a shame to miss out on this club. Dmitry placed a large hand placed at her stomach ant he other under her arm and caressing the front of her neck teasing the skin gently. He breathed slowly against the side of her neck. Dmitry said nothing while he danced. He had to wait for her to be hooked before he could yank the line.
- Natalie Grey - 10-18-2017
Unsolicited hands all over her body. She never looked up at the face. Unimportant details. Her body moved. Thoughts floating free. Until a vibration in her pocket broke momentum. A phone call. Right. Connection to reality was the last thing she craved right now, but like a spike to the head it refused to be ignored. Crowded her mind with all the things she had come here to forget.
Out.
She needed out.
Suddenly claustrophobic, she recoiled from the stranger, pushed away and out of the crowd. Seeking escape. The way out. But unsteady steps led down into the press of shadows, the beat of the music growing faint, a pulse point at the jugular. The phone in her hand glowed the distraction of a voicemail. Not the intrusion she had expected. She tapped to listen on speaker.
"Nat..."
Nat? He'd never called her that, but the sound of his voice keened a sharp sense of homesickness. For what? Fuck. It didn't help that her own world was swimming.
"Hey. Hows goin? You alright? Really gotta see you today. Killed some cannibal. Monsters. Ever heard of Private Eye? Me neither. Is real good. I mean i've killed lots of evil Nombres, but this was different. Right, not wrong, which is wrong. Felt good. I'm scared. Oh. I'm also a wizard. Dont tell vanders--"
I'm scared.
I'm scared.
The words caught a hook in her belly. The rest, mumbled, slower to sink in. She combed a hand back through her hair in sudden and inexplicable distress. Tried to force her slippery thoughts into some kind of order. Sit down. Preferably before she fell. Call back. Find out what the fuck was wrong.
Except none of those things happened. And she was not alone.
[[Hope that works, let me know if not]]
- Nox - 10-18-2017
(( works great for me... love Jay's call too, should almost have called him so he knew you'd been taken. We'll leave your phone for him to find. ))
The pretty little blond pushed away. Fuck! This wasn't going to work. But she pushed her way out of the crowd and into the relative quiet of a darkened hallway. One of those places couples sneak off to to be alone except coming down here usually had its disadvantages. Too many had gone missing. Regulars knew. New comers not so much. But the pretty little blond she didn't look totally with it. Dimitry wondered what she might be on.
She went through the voice mail on speaker. The man on the other end sounded drunk too. Boyfriend? Oh well. Alistair would just have to deal! Dimitry wanted to do his own thing. The club was hoping.
Violence wasn't the way he wanted to do this, but she didn't seem like the type to come with him now that she was alone in the darkness. Dimitry pulled out the chloroform and a cloth and he'd have to do it the old fashioned way. It was less fun this way, but at least it was quick.
The woman was trying to make a call - certainly to call back the man who'd called. Dimitry grabbed her quickly pressing the wet rag to her mouth and nose and waited for the chemicals to take affect.... soon....
(( leaving it here if you want to react to it... if not you can pm me or message me and I'll push it forward more. ))
- Nox - 10-20-2017
continued in Experiments
- Sören - 10-20-2017
The next day
Natalie Grey was many things, but she was not usually late. When she didn't arrive for her appointment at all that morning, her father panicked. He'd spent years believing he protected her by keeping her away from Moscow - and more specifically, away from himself - and Sören was already sure he'd just overreacted. The girl had daddy issues, and she was also a staunch advocate of drowning all her woes in the bottom of a bottle. It spoke for itself.
But... Alistair Grey was an old friend. And the new tech fitted to Soren's eye socket itched a command to be tested out.
A tracery of red lines led the path to Natalie's Wallet. He tracked it through some shit-hole club with sticky floors and pipes running along the ceiling, abandoned at this time of day, and with locks brittle to the flex of a fist and a pulse of the runes. The trail led down, beyond the club, into the sort of secluded darkness a young woman would be neglectful to find herself in.
A dozen small orbs lit then faded down the path ahead. She was not here, just her phone. The battery blinked its death throws in a shadowed corner of the hallway. He stooped to pick it up, running the pad of his thumb over the crack in the screen. He flicked through the screens quickly. The phone was pretty clean; she'd only had it since she'd landed in the country. No messages, no calls - ingoing or outgoing. But there was a voicemail. Some drunk American boy. At 3am.
A hard smile hitched the corner of his lips. Perhaps this would be interesting after all. He lit a cigarette in the dankness of the tunnel, and connected the call.
Edited by Soren, Oct 30 2017, 08:20 AM.
- Sören - 10-23-2017
He didn't have to wait long. The voice from the message answered.
"No, Mister Wizard."
Sören cut in barely before the American had finished speaking her name. "It's not. Tell me, when was the last time you saw her?"
His tone was mild, but the accusation inherent. Smoke spiralled in the gloom of the tunnel. The fact he'd answered the call at all suggested he knew nothing of value. Still, engendering a little fear did no harm, if not for the missing girl, then of a stranger calling out a secret. Wizard indeed.
- Sören - 10-30-2017
The boy had the gall to sound accusatory in return.
"A good question! And one her father also wishes to know the answer to."
Edited by Soren, Oct 30 2017, 08:39 AM.
- Jay Carpenter - 10-30-2017
Quote:<dl>
<dt>Soren</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
The boy had the gall to sound accusatory in return.
"A good question! And one her father also wishes to know the answer to."
Her father.
Jay blinked, mind racing. Natalie's family were a long ways away. The only way her father could know she was missing was if he'd been keeping tabs on her, and whomever was assigned to following her lost track of her. Maybe she didn't show up at some rendezvous. Was her father in Moscow? Was the voice on the other end of this account her spook?
He couldn't just stand down and hope that her father located her. Then again, he needed the voice to cooperate in order for him to get involved.
"Look, I can help you find her. I have--"
talents? wizards? magic powers that I don't know how to use? "--connections."
- Sören - 11-01-2017
The wallet made a soft bleeping in his ear, warning of the battery's draining - though for now the connection held. A smile hitched Soren's lips as at last something useful came of the conversation. He valued loyalty - the whole reason he was even down here - and had helped Grey's daughter in the past, but the task now held little interest. He saw no reason to be personally involved if he could instead nudge another piece on the board. He slipped his own Wallet from a pocket. "Excellent. Sending details to you now."
Insofar as he even had, which was to say the coordinates of the abandoned phone beneath the club. "I believe she listened to your message. Alas, the phone is here and she is not -- and it's quite insalubrious down here. I doubt she just went for a stroll."
Edited by Soren, Nov 1 2017, 09:27 AM.