01-04-2015, 04:10 PM
Jacinda smoothed the dress over her hips as she looked in mirror. It was a dark purple silk with gold accents at the hip and bosom. Not too low cut, though. Not that she was remotely modest. But she wanted to look like she belonged, not draw attention to herself. Her hair was done in a stylized braid that hung over one shoulder. The jade earrings complemented the dress.
The Villa she stayed in was small but a nice place for all that. She'd not stayed with Ricky after the quetz hunt. She wasn't upset with him. In a way, he'd saved her life. Under normal circumstances, after a hunt like that when the blood was hot and the fight had been good, she woulda had a nice vigorous bout of wrestling with him to celebrate. In the cave even.
But he was too busy worrying about the girl. Not that Jacinda didn't care, not really. Just that the hunt never stopped. The girl was out and if she was smart, she'd be able to make it on her own now. Instead, Ricky had decided to adopt her or whatever. Play house anyway. The kid was good-hearted. And a fool. He had no idea what he was getting into.
Not her concern, though. Not her life. So she'd kicked around the city for a few days. Ricky's intel was dry anyway. But in a dive bar she'd started hearing stories about the American, Oakland, and his taking on of the cartels. Not that local politics interested her. Rather, the things she heard about Oakland. The whispered rumors about abilities. Her ears had perked up at that. She did more digging and the rumors grew. Both of his background and of more recent activity.
It had been a long time since she'd hunted a god. Usually, the ones she'd gotten were pathetically sick and weak. Easy prey. Once, she'd taken out an entire family. There were twins who would call on the power. If ever there was clear justification for terminating a bloodline, that was it. She'd been good at it. Made it look like an accident. Still, a part of her hadn't been completely cool with the whole thing. But that had been a long time ago and she'd not had to do that since.
This Oakland though, if he was a god, he would be a new challenge. He was not sick or weak. Obviously. His power was something he consciously used. This would be a real hunt. So she had gotten closer, paid off people, learned what she could. There was some sort of public function the man was having in connection with the local government. Looked like they got their balls back now that they had a new player in their midst. Pathetic.
It hadn't been hard coming up with a cover to get in, nor some fake ids. She always had them with her. Today she would be Lucy Nolan, a reporter for an obscure American media outlet, a persona she'd used before. A search on the internet would even show articles that she'd "written" and published. Anticipation stirred in her as she made sure that she looked the part. She always felt this way when starting a new hunt.
Satisfied she'd fit in and be able to gather intel, she went to the car she'd ordered up and it delivered her to the Governor's mansion where the fete was being held. She held her purse in her hand with a few necessary items. She was relatively unarmed, aside from the small wooden knife at her thigh and the chopsticks in her hair the doubled as weapons. She breathed a sigh as she passed through the detectors without incident.
People milled about and she had second thoughts about her dress. She could've been nearly topless and wouldn't have stood out. As in the dresses of so many of the younger women- arm candy clearly- were as low cut as physically possible without falling off. One or two caught her eye and she smiled cat-like. She did like a nice form and she had to give it to them. They knew how to show off. But she wasn't here for that.
Her eyes scanned the room even as she took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. It did not appear that Oakland had arrived yet. She took a sip, enjoying the tickle of the bubbles in her nose.
The Villa she stayed in was small but a nice place for all that. She'd not stayed with Ricky after the quetz hunt. She wasn't upset with him. In a way, he'd saved her life. Under normal circumstances, after a hunt like that when the blood was hot and the fight had been good, she woulda had a nice vigorous bout of wrestling with him to celebrate. In the cave even.
But he was too busy worrying about the girl. Not that Jacinda didn't care, not really. Just that the hunt never stopped. The girl was out and if she was smart, she'd be able to make it on her own now. Instead, Ricky had decided to adopt her or whatever. Play house anyway. The kid was good-hearted. And a fool. He had no idea what he was getting into.
Not her concern, though. Not her life. So she'd kicked around the city for a few days. Ricky's intel was dry anyway. But in a dive bar she'd started hearing stories about the American, Oakland, and his taking on of the cartels. Not that local politics interested her. Rather, the things she heard about Oakland. The whispered rumors about abilities. Her ears had perked up at that. She did more digging and the rumors grew. Both of his background and of more recent activity.
It had been a long time since she'd hunted a god. Usually, the ones she'd gotten were pathetically sick and weak. Easy prey. Once, she'd taken out an entire family. There were twins who would call on the power. If ever there was clear justification for terminating a bloodline, that was it. She'd been good at it. Made it look like an accident. Still, a part of her hadn't been completely cool with the whole thing. But that had been a long time ago and she'd not had to do that since.
This Oakland though, if he was a god, he would be a new challenge. He was not sick or weak. Obviously. His power was something he consciously used. This would be a real hunt. So she had gotten closer, paid off people, learned what she could. There was some sort of public function the man was having in connection with the local government. Looked like they got their balls back now that they had a new player in their midst. Pathetic.
It hadn't been hard coming up with a cover to get in, nor some fake ids. She always had them with her. Today she would be Lucy Nolan, a reporter for an obscure American media outlet, a persona she'd used before. A search on the internet would even show articles that she'd "written" and published. Anticipation stirred in her as she made sure that she looked the part. She always felt this way when starting a new hunt.
Satisfied she'd fit in and be able to gather intel, she went to the car she'd ordered up and it delivered her to the Governor's mansion where the fete was being held. She held her purse in her hand with a few necessary items. She was relatively unarmed, aside from the small wooden knife at her thigh and the chopsticks in her hair the doubled as weapons. She breathed a sigh as she passed through the detectors without incident.
People milled about and she had second thoughts about her dress. She could've been nearly topless and wouldn't have stood out. As in the dresses of so many of the younger women- arm candy clearly- were as low cut as physically possible without falling off. One or two caught her eye and she smiled cat-like. She did like a nice form and she had to give it to them. They knew how to show off. But she wasn't here for that.
Her eyes scanned the room even as she took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. It did not appear that Oakland had arrived yet. She took a sip, enjoying the tickle of the bubbles in her nose.