Post by xBlackxAcex on Feb 22, 2021 3:00:03 GMT
Mira searched for days, even traveling to neighboring cities. She hid and slept in abandoned buildings during the day, discreetly asking around about Delia during the night. Although she hadn't expected to find Delia so easily or quickly, she didn't expect a week to go buy with no information. She trudged her way through the streets, back at her home city again, feeling only slightly defeated. There were a few more places she could check before giving up completely. It was unlikely that Delia was nearby, and since she wasn't in any of the other cities, Mira had to assume that perhaps she moved to another state or country completely.
After many miles and achy feet, Mira had one contact left to speak to. She was tired and hungry, having run out of food a day ago, but she had to believe that this person knew where Delia was. Mira walked by an alley, glancing over to see exactly who she was looking for, throwing out trash. Pivoting, she swiftly made her way down the alley and approached the man. "Mr. Ivanov." She half-smiled at this tall bearded man, built like a tank with a gut. "Miss Mira. It's been a while. Was wondering if maybe you died or were killed." He folded his large arms across his chest.
"What is it you need?" He looked her up and down. "Wow, straight to the point, huh? Okay, I just need to find someone I used to know." Ivanov sucked on his teeth and stared her down. "I suppose I can help. Finding people is what I do best. Since you never cause me trouble, I'll do this as a favor." Mira felt relieved, the first sign of good luck in days. "I'm looking for Delia. Delia Alan."
Ivanov's eyes flashed with recognition, a hand coming up to stroke his beard. "Ah yes, Delia. I haven't seen her in a while, but last I heard, she was working at a bar on Third Street. That's all I've got for you. I have to go back inside and deal with things. Good luck, kid." He threw his last bag of trash in the dumpster, and Mira headed for the entry of the alley. "Thanks, Mr. Ivanov!" She called back to him. Her spirits were lifted, and she got a second wind. That was almost too easy. She was happy to have a lead but frustrated she had wasted a whole week looking elsewhere when Delia was in her own city this entire time. As eager as she was to talk to Delia and figure things out, she needed to use the last of her energy to make it home to eat and rest.
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The almost empty duffle bag was discarded by the door next to her boots. She peeled her jacket off and then shrugged out of her jeans, yawning as she went to the kitchen to grab a can of anything to eat. Leaning against the counter, she ate a can of cold bean soup, trying to take her time. It wasn't quite enough, but it would do for the time being. She stumbled over to her mattress and flopped onto it, curling into the sheets before passing out.
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Saint agreed to work with the Scotsman with some changes to the conditions. He wanted to be in the pit as soon as possible; then, he'd collect Mira and all of the humans the guy desired. The vamp had to enact some fail-safe in the event the Scot backed out on his promise. The information came with a price and time, so the fellow was content to finish on his terms. After the first encounter, technically the second time, he had no further contact with the vampire, leaving Saint to construct a strategy. He removed the apron from his neck and turned off the stovetop; the rising steam was uncomfortably hot. "I need to obtain her trust." He thought out loud as he scooped out a portion of the week's worth of food into an airtight container.
He visited her apartment, but there was no sign of her. He checked for her when daylight broke, but he didn't detect her presence. A week passed, and he sincerely hoped she didn't die trying to find her friend. One fight wasn't enough, and a handful of fights did not come close to satiate his need. He needed her to keep fighting in the pit. However, her face floated freely within his mind; her blue eyes pierced his soul. She was still alive and breathing. He would try again tonight and see if she had returned.
Take your time and twist the story. It doesn't matter if she becomes suspicious. When she realizes it too late, she won't be able to build her walls back up fast enough.
Saint neared the human's place of shelter, and the air was different. Full and bodied, his mind easily sought out the familiarity, taking in the shift and adapting it to memory. Silently, he took in his surroundings, double-checking that he wasn't followed by vampires. As he approached the closed balcony doors, he looked out of the corner of his eye. It would be worse if the other humans were aware that he was at their hideout. He would have to bring them to near-death and deliver them to the Scot half-dead. He tapped on the glass.
After many miles and achy feet, Mira had one contact left to speak to. She was tired and hungry, having run out of food a day ago, but she had to believe that this person knew where Delia was. Mira walked by an alley, glancing over to see exactly who she was looking for, throwing out trash. Pivoting, she swiftly made her way down the alley and approached the man. "Mr. Ivanov." She half-smiled at this tall bearded man, built like a tank with a gut. "Miss Mira. It's been a while. Was wondering if maybe you died or were killed." He folded his large arms across his chest.
"What is it you need?" He looked her up and down. "Wow, straight to the point, huh? Okay, I just need to find someone I used to know." Ivanov sucked on his teeth and stared her down. "I suppose I can help. Finding people is what I do best. Since you never cause me trouble, I'll do this as a favor." Mira felt relieved, the first sign of good luck in days. "I'm looking for Delia. Delia Alan."
Ivanov's eyes flashed with recognition, a hand coming up to stroke his beard. "Ah yes, Delia. I haven't seen her in a while, but last I heard, she was working at a bar on Third Street. That's all I've got for you. I have to go back inside and deal with things. Good luck, kid." He threw his last bag of trash in the dumpster, and Mira headed for the entry of the alley. "Thanks, Mr. Ivanov!" She called back to him. Her spirits were lifted, and she got a second wind. That was almost too easy. She was happy to have a lead but frustrated she had wasted a whole week looking elsewhere when Delia was in her own city this entire time. As eager as she was to talk to Delia and figure things out, she needed to use the last of her energy to make it home to eat and rest.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
The almost empty duffle bag was discarded by the door next to her boots. She peeled her jacket off and then shrugged out of her jeans, yawning as she went to the kitchen to grab a can of anything to eat. Leaning against the counter, she ate a can of cold bean soup, trying to take her time. It wasn't quite enough, but it would do for the time being. She stumbled over to her mattress and flopped onto it, curling into the sheets before passing out.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Saint agreed to work with the Scotsman with some changes to the conditions. He wanted to be in the pit as soon as possible; then, he'd collect Mira and all of the humans the guy desired. The vamp had to enact some fail-safe in the event the Scot backed out on his promise. The information came with a price and time, so the fellow was content to finish on his terms. After the first encounter, technically the second time, he had no further contact with the vampire, leaving Saint to construct a strategy. He removed the apron from his neck and turned off the stovetop; the rising steam was uncomfortably hot. "I need to obtain her trust." He thought out loud as he scooped out a portion of the week's worth of food into an airtight container.
He visited her apartment, but there was no sign of her. He checked for her when daylight broke, but he didn't detect her presence. A week passed, and he sincerely hoped she didn't die trying to find her friend. One fight wasn't enough, and a handful of fights did not come close to satiate his need. He needed her to keep fighting in the pit. However, her face floated freely within his mind; her blue eyes pierced his soul. She was still alive and breathing. He would try again tonight and see if she had returned.
Take your time and twist the story. It doesn't matter if she becomes suspicious. When she realizes it too late, she won't be able to build her walls back up fast enough.
Saint neared the human's place of shelter, and the air was different. Full and bodied, his mind easily sought out the familiarity, taking in the shift and adapting it to memory. Silently, he took in his surroundings, double-checking that he wasn't followed by vampires. As he approached the closed balcony doors, he looked out of the corner of his eye. It would be worse if the other humans were aware that he was at their hideout. He would have to bring them to near-death and deliver them to the Scot half-dead. He tapped on the glass.