Exploring [Open]

[Khay]

No vampire would walk the streets without a very good reason. Khay’s reason was simple. She had no idea those streets were controlled by Garou. She was new in town and had yet to really meet anybody. Her nights consisted mostly of exploring. Khay was very thorough in her explanations. She wanted to see everything this new place had to offer.

The vampire walked the streets curiously, her small hand in the clutches of the ghoul that acted as her mother. Khay was an odd thing; she looked to be no more than seven or eight. Her color that day was a muted burgundy. Not her usual. She still wore a ruffled dress and a ribbon in her hair. Khay looked particularly angelic. The kine smiled when she passed them by, too preoccupied with her sweet smile to wonder why a mother and child were out and about so late.

Her stormy blue eyes took in everything around her; the sights, the smells, the sounds. There was something about Ithaca that she liked. But also something that disturbed her. Something familiar was tickling the back of her mind, but Khay could not pinpoint exactly what it was. Khay was grateful to have her father-ghoul trailing behind them in his car.


Reason for Editing: Fixing typos.

[Desmond Vinson]

Well, it was quieter than Charleston. Desmond wasn't sure he liked it; in that box of fragmented memories that was the seventeen years stolen from him he found silence that was more painful than the loudest of sounds and darkness more blinding than the brightest of lights. There was chill that burned and moisture that dried his flesh into the stony, calloused mess that lurked behind the magical Mask of normalcy that protected his true form from the eyes of non-fae, or perhaps protected the eyes of non-fae from the sight of him.

But he couldn't go back to Charleston; there was nothing left for him there, and in this place he might still find purpose. He didn't feel the asphalt and broken cement grinding into his bare feet as he walked along the road, his eyes alert but his posture casual. He was treading on thin ice already with his activities, but he had a sinking feeling he knew what he was dealing with better than the FBI did. Looking up at a street sign and then down at directions he'd written on his palm, he turned into a back alley and halted.

The body of Tara McClellan, twenty-one, had been removed long ago in an ambulance bound straight for the morgue, but the air in the little back alley off of Buffalo Street still felt heavy. Desmond inhaled, reaching his mind out behind the dumpsters and beneath a stack of wooden palettes. His senses reached every corner of the concrete canyon, probing, tasting. There was sorrow here, the most recent and pervasive emotion. With a deep breath he drank it in, letting it replenish his Glamour and whisking it away so he could find what was beneath.

There was no fear in the alley; she hadn't been alive when she'd been brought here, just as the police suspected. Nor was there any wrath; whoever had done this hadn't done it as a crime of passion. It had been premeditated and without malice, the work of a sociopath. But there was something else. Desmond focused, trying to make it out. What he found startled and disgusted him: amusement. And it wasn't human amusement, either. He'd been right; the Trinity Slasher was a Changeling, like him.

He let that emotion lie, not wanting it in his body, as he wondered what to do next. The FBI wasn't going to be able to catch a Changeling, not without the slightest clue as to his or her identity, but Desmond didn't have much to go on either. As he pondered his options, something strange appeared in his senses. He turned, closed his eyes, reached out to taste the air with his mind again. There was something out there to which dreams did not cling. Everyone sleeps, right? Then what kind of creature was this?

Desmond crept back to the edge of the alley, plans momentarily archived at the back of his brain. He whispered softly and darkness suddenly swirled around him. After an instant it faded, leaving him in deeper shadows than those he had been standing in moments before. True invisibility was beyond his grasp, but he could make himself very, very difficult to see. He peered out from behind a dumpster and watched in awe and confusion as the little girl who didn't dream walked down the street.

Who was she? What was she? Slowly, keeping to the enhanced shadows, he followed. He intended to find out.

[Khay]

She almost missed the odd creature. In fact, she did at first. Khay walked right past the changeling without noticing anything. It was not until after that she paused to think. If it was not for her aura perception, she may never have realized he was there. Instead, something tickled her mind. Khay did a double take and saw something she did not expect.

That was the aura of a changeling, if she was not mistaken. Khay squinted her eyes, trying to see him clearly. Somehow, it was difficult. Her mind simply would not focus on him. She had to keep blinking. But she knew he was there. She knew it. Khay hesitated. There was not much she knew about changelings. Certainly she had seen them before...

Should she say hello? It would be rude to stare and not say anything. And she was staring. Khay did not want to be rude. That made her mind. The little vampire took a step towards the changeling. “Hello,” she said sweetly. Khay let go of her ghoul’s hand so that she could move easier. Her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. She hoped she would not frighten the creature-person away.

[Desmond Vinson]

Desmond held perfectly still as the girl looked back, letting the shadows cloak him and the sounds of the city conceal the rhythm of his breathing. An ordinary mortal would have seen nothing, wouldn't even have turned around. But something had attracted the attention of this little girl, no more than a sixth his age, despite all his precautions. He already knew she was far from normal, and it seemed that this extended to more than just her lack of dreams. He had gone all too quickly from watcher to watched.

Her voice was soft, innocent, as one might expect of a child, but it startled him as though it were the baying of bloodhounds hot on his trail. She knew he was there, had distinguished him from the darkness of night. His estimation of her power steadily rose. Could she be... could she be one of the Others? The Fae fed on dreams, but he didn't know if they themselves dreamed. If indeed she was one of his former captors, or perhaps some nightmare in human form that they had created to hunt him, he was already doomed.

Memory flooded Desmond's mind again, the memory of barbed hooks that bit into his flesh and cruel laughter and the crack of whips that sent his blood to the floor in pools. He remembered the little Afghani girl he had followed into the thicket, who had mocked his attempts to find a way back. Her features settled on top of those of this girl, and he shivered. He couldn't run; she would catch him and drag him back to Faerie. But he wasn't going back; better to be dead than to return.

He dropped the enchantment he had placed on the shadows and stepped out into the dim glow of a flickering streetlight. Beneath his Yankees baseball cap, his eyes were hard and his mouth was set. He was big and muscular, an Ogre of legend, and he wasn't going to be taken without a fight. "I'm not going back," he spat, trying to keep his breathing under control as his heart raced and his brain screamed with fear. "I'll die first, you hear me? I'll die first!" He raised his fists and crouched in a fighting stance, ready for the inevitable.

Reason for Editing: Made dialogue stand out better

[Khay]

When the changeling stepped away from his shadows, Khay instinctively took a step back. She had not noticed how big he was. And he looked ready for a fight. Khay was not a fighter, but she was an excellent runner. She prepared to run. Hopefully her mommy-ghoul could make it to the car safely.

But then he said words, and Khay found them strange. She tilted her head to the side and studied the colors that swirled around him. Was he afraid? Afraid of her? Who or what did he think she was? The girl’s eyes widened and she raised her hands in a gesture of peace. Beside her, she could feel her mommy-ghoul grow tense.

“I am not here to harm you,” she said soothingly. Khay did not move forward as she did not want to appear threatening. “I did not mean to frighten you. Please forgive me.” Her body was still ready to bolt, but Khay hoped the situation could be saved. Khay had never befriended a changeling before.

[Desmond Vinson]

Desmond snorted but didn't budge, his fists still raised. "You didn't really think you would get me with the same tactic again, did you? I followed a little girl into that hell once, but this time I know where you would take me." It was strange that this girl spoke like an adult; maybe the Fae had known he would react this way and simply done it to torment him. But that didn't really make sense, did it? Why would she both speak calming words in an adult voice and have the body of a child? He shook his head; they were playing more games with his mind, that was all.

"She didn't look much like you, the other one," he mused out loud, tension in his voice. "But you've been inside my head, haven't you? You know I'd do what I did for anyone." He had often wondered what would've happened if he had gone back in time and told himself what would happen if he tried to help the little Afghani girl; he was almost certain that he would've done it anyway, on the off chance that she really did need help. He'd been foolishly noble then. Now he knew that some battles couldn't be won and some people couldn't be saved.

Keeping his eyes on the girl, he turned his mind to the older woman whose hand she held. What he found surprised him: she did dream. He'd heard of Changelings that stayed loyal to the Fae, helping them hunt their own kind, but he would've been able to see through her Mask if that were the case. Her emotions were strange, twisted somehow, but still human. She was mortal; had the Fae enspelled her? If so, why hadn't they just taken her back to Faerie? The situation kept getting stranger and stranger. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the car.

Between the car and the little girl, the only way out was the alley, and if this was planned they probably had someone down there, too. His heart beat even faster; running hadn't ever been a practical option, but now it didn't seem to be an option at all. No one moved. The silence built. Finally, as calmly and levelly as he could, he spoke again. "Come on, then. Come and take me. I see you've got your allies in position, though what you've done to them to make them obey you God only knows."

Internally he whispered a simple prayer: Lord, if you exist, please help me.

[kozeph]

Zack was a good boy, Zack always came home earlier... Zack helped his friends.. he was a good boy he thought. But this night he agreed to stay and clean the Restaurant. It was late, He didn't like the dark It reminded him of the hedge He'd Been through that place twice in his life once in once out. He didn't like the that place it was full of pain and thorns. His little flame Didn't like it, He didn't like it...

He waved shyly at Kimmy his boss, the best friend He had ever had and the reason why he was what he was the fire he had become. He wanted to tell her, tell her of him what he was, but she didn't even remember him, why would she? they meet when they were children. He didn't blame her but it hurt, Little of his life before he became a little flame remained. He remembered his mother, the children and Kimmy the rest was a blur and it hurt to think of it so he never did.

time flew when he was alone when he finished cleaning the place it was late.. He closed the restaurant and walked the lonely streets He heard the rumor of a killer on the loose, of course he was scared what if the killer was Mr Crocker or one of it's friends. He started to think to much he didn't like it, he started to walk faster looking at the alleys expecting "Things" to creep out and punish him.

He was walking faster now when he spotted "Another" of his kin another lost child, This one was of stone or mud Zack couldn't make out the features to well, the earth man looked agitated he was talking to a girl? no she had no dreams she... What was she he thought, a punisher? no... no she was something else, and beside her was another a human she was weird, Zack didn't like her she was twisted as much as her dreams..

His kin looked more agitated now when a car appeared in the scene. What should he do? should he help? but.. But he was just a little flame what could he do? what should he do?

he pondered as he looked at the scene, He just wanted to go home..

[Khay]

This man was speaking strange things. Khay did not understand. Her face looked clearly puzzled. Should she force him to like her? No. That would be wrong. This situation did not call for that. “I do not wish to take you anywhere,” she replied hesitantly, “I do not understand what you are speaking of.”

As another sign of peace, Khay sat right down on the sidewalk Indian style. She placed her hands in her lap and gazed up at him. “My name is Khayriyya, but you are welcome to call me Khay if it better pleases you. I know you are a changeling. Do you know what I am?” It certainly did not seem like he did.

Normally Khay was not so forthcoming with such things, but she did not want him to be afraid of her. From the corner of her eye, the little vampire noticed another changeling aura. Oddly, she felt relieved. Khay had a feeling things would look a little too strange to a human. She wondered if he would try to intervene or if he would simply continue to watch.

[Desmond Vinson]

Desmond's breathing came in great, heaving gasps, and his hands shook as he held them in front of him. Sweat, which appeared normal atop his mask but was in truth a drop of muddy rainwater, slid down his brow and into his eyes, making it hard to see, but he dared not blink or wipe the droplets away; the Fae were impossibly fast, and even a moment of distraction could spell his eternal doom. Blearily he watched the little girl sit down with her hands in her lap; what was she doing? Invoking some kind of sorcery?

She claimed she didn't understand, but the Fae were creatures of lies; then again, they were also clever, so why would they keep trying with a tactic that clearly wasn't working? Perhaps because they expected him to give in eventually, and he'd gotten close to doing just that. He didn't sense any sorcery. Was she trying to put him at ease by looking unthreatening while her agents snuck up behind him? His senses tingled. He didn't look away, but he knew that another Changeling was nearby. A loyalist, come to assist in his capture? Why did this Fae seem to need so much help?

And then she told him her name. It was beautiful, lyrical, but not quite Fae. Besides, names had incredible power among the Fae, which is why most used strange and ridiculous aliases when dealing with mortals. She might just be lying, but then why not Alison or Kitty or some other common, simple name? Khayriyya was not a sudden name of convenience. She knew he was a Changeling, which he hadn't doubted for a moment. But then she asked the question he himself had been wondering. "No," he slowly admitted, "I do not know what you are."

The other Changeling didn't move, perhaps just watching. His eyes still on the little girl with the elegant name, Desmond kept his mind on the newcomer, ready to act if he became a threat.

[kozeph]

home I want to go home, was all that Zack wanted he tries so hard to hide his precesens then this, he is in the middle of a mess. The other was clearly threaten, If Zack Doesnt do something soon the situation might explode into conflict. But he had to do something he had to calm the earth man, the giant, the ogre before he does something to the little girl.. If he fights he might draw the attention of the Fae and they would find Zack and punish him for escaping the kitchen and they would take him to the place of water the place of pain. "NO!" he shouted at the image in his head the pain of his memories were to much for him... he shake his head and saw the little thing sit down, she looked human but she was something else.. a feared hobgoblin perhaps? no she was something out of his strange world. Not Fae not human...

Zack made up his mind, he had to do something for the Ogre stop him from drawing the attention of the True masters.. The attention of Mr Crocker.


he slowly walked towards them... he kept himself distant from both

"Ehm... ah... ah... please dont fight" he said in his shy voice while half looking at his sides "The... They might find us... I dont want to go back" he said looking between the floor and the other seeming. Zack's voice was about to break. he looked at the girl in the floor and at the broken woman next to her.

"Please leave us alone... I don't know what you are but...bu... but we haven't done anything to you.. so... so leave us in peace" he said is voice strained from the pressure. his eyes we're becoming teary and if the other seeming could see Zack beneath his mask he would clearly see how the flames grew smaller from the stress and their light was getting more dim.

Zack held is hand tightly and kept his head down looking at his shoes. waiting for the situation to get worse.. It would get worse he had to apologize he had to... "I'm sorry" He said almost as a whisper... he was about to cry

[Khay]

No.

That one word was like sharp needle running through the bubble of tension. Khay was very aware that nobody was relaxed, but even so. Things felt much easier. That one sign of admittance from him meant that he was willing to listen. It meant her efforts were not a lost cause.

Khay opened her mouth to explain, but that was when the other decided to approach. His fear slammed into her like a bowling ball. She could see it flickering around him. She could hear it in his voice. Khay shivered from the force of it. She wanted to get up and go to him, to comfort him. But that would be a bad move, wouldn’t it?

Both of them were so afraid. But of who? Of what? Why were they running? Who was after them? Khay wanted to help them. That was awfully meddlesome of her, but she could not help it. Khay did not want anyone to suffer. Fear was a terrible thing. What story did they share? Did they know each other?

”I am sorry,” she murmured, “I did not mean…I only wanted to talk. To find friends.” Khay looked at the bigger one. “I am a vampire,” she explained, “And I am new here. I am not trying to cause trouble. I only wish to get my bearings and figure out the territory. I have never met a changeling before. Forgive my curiosity.”

[Desmond Vinson]

A Vampire? As a man of reason Desmond would have scoffed at that notion, but reason had abandoned him when creatures who obeyed none of the laws he had considered universal had stolen him away to a realm beyond time itself. He remembered the creature that had attacked his squad leader faster than the eye could see, dragging him away and leaving him almost entirely drained of blood. At the time he hadn't given it much thought; he'd been busy carrying the mostly-dead man across countless miles of wilderness, hoping to keep him alive just a little longer. But now he wondered.

What little he knew of Vampires came from novels and TV shows, and he suspected very little of it was correct. Were they creations of the Fae, victims and slaves like him? Or did other powers he didn't yet know lurk in the dark? Whatever the case, little Khayrriya didn't seem to want to hurt him; in some ways she was surprisingly mature, but in others still very much childlike. With a muttered prayer, he decided to give her a chance. Slowly he lowered his fists, drawing in deep, calming breaths. He was doing better than the other changeling, at least; taking a chance, he stared at the newcomer out of the corner of his eye.

The young man was clearly an elemental; his flaming hair, visible by Desmond's changeling eyes, made that clear. It was a safe bet that he had been taken at a young age, and though his body had grown his mind had been kept young by the torments of Faerie. Though his panic was subsiding somewhat, Desmond still found it difficult to speak words of comfort. Any chance to have children of his own had been stolen, and he found it hard to relate to anyone else. "Chill," he finally said. "She's not one of them." I hope, he internally finished.

Turning back to Khay, he addressed her little speech. "And I've never met a... a Vampire. I'm new to these parts as well." It was the most tense, awkward introduction he'd ever had, but he still wasn't exactly sure of the situation. He was no longer in a defensive crouch, but he was still tense and ready to move if need be.

[kozeph]

'Chill'' the Ogre said. Zack understood and his fists slowly opened, he slowly cleaned his teary face ''sorry'' he said with a shy smile while he removed the tears from his eyes. The flames that was his hair built up a little but he was still scared.

Atleast the ogre would rashly attack the creature and that was enough for Zack. Now he needed to find out what it really was.

he looked at the girl thing that called her self a vampire. He had heard the term.. somewhere.. monsters! he remembered, Zack took a step back from the girl and a step closer to the Ogre. Fear was in his eyes ''You.. y...you are not... like dracula right? He said while looking at the girl but not at her eyes.

[Khay]

She watched and waited. Watched and waited. Then there was movement. The big man lowered his fists and seemed to calm down some. Khay watched his aura carefully; the man seemed genuine enough. She offered a hopeful smile. There was no triumph in it, just friendliness. These were curious creatures and Khay found herself caring for them as she would any injured creature.

The little vampire was about to respond to the larger changeling, when the other changelings spoke. Khay tilted her head to the side as she considered his question. “That really depends on what you are comparing,” the vampire responded honestly.” Part of her wondered if she was breaking the masquerade by telling these creatures about her. They weren’t kine, so there should be no problem, right?

When it came to changelings, she felt completely lost. What would their blood taste like? Was it…edible? Why wouldn’t it be? “I do drink blood, and sunlight is more than a little bad for my skin. But I do not kill and I cannot turn into a bat or anything like that.”

Khay heard a car drive by behind her and suddenly felt very exposed. She wondered if they should go somewhere or private, or if that would insight the big one’s suspicions again.

[Desmond Vinson]

Weird. Implausible. But not impossible; nothing was impossible anymore. Desmond was a giant mud man standing next to someone with a flaming head and talking to a vampire, and it really didn't feel all that strange. He was getting deeper and deeper into the strange realities of this world, and as his understanding of the hidden truth expanded he came to realize that most of the ghost stories he had heard as a child were more than simple ghost stories. A blood drinker, harmed by sunlight. Could he trust that she wasn't a killer? He wasn't sure.

A car drove by, and he flinched. He was moments away from expending a little glamor to bulk up his muscles even further, then picking up the nearest parked car and throwing it at whoever looked most threatening. But the car didn't approach, and after a moment he relaxed. A cold breeze blew down the street in the silence, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. It was habit, mostly; his skin was so thick that he barely felt heat or cold. But the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing on end, and the chill reminded him of that. He wasn't safe her.

The plan had been to melt away when he was finished looking over the crime scene, but his own confounded curiosity had made that difficult, a problem compounded by his growing paranoia about the possible return of his keeper and an unpleasant trip back to Faerie. But what now? He was still curious about the little blood drinker, and meeting another Changeling wasn't an everyday happening in his experience, though only because he didn't belong to a court. The presence of another courtless was an opportunity; he decided to wait.

He indicated the alleyway with an incline of his head. "This is not a good place to stay if we want to keep things quiet. I'll follow you." If either of them turned out to be a Fae agent, he would be right in close combat with them, where he excelled. It was a strategic move.