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Post by Arabella Fossil on Dec 28, 2009 21:01:31 GMT -5
*Please pm me with any questions and/or requirements that your character has!
IC: 'You be careful now Miss Bells!' Mr. McHugh said as he wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning on his shovel like a walking stick. Arabella smiled and nodded before hugging the man, who was much like an uncle to her. "Thanks Mr. McHugh, I'll send a postcard!" She said as the elderly man nodded and smiled and was about to speak when he was interrupted by his wife. 'Have fun my dear. And here's something to take along with you.' She said, handing her a wicker basket with what appeared to have goodies and home made treats in it. Arabella nodded, smiling and gave her a hug as well before picking up her suitcase.
"I'll write I promise!" She called as she got onto the bus, the iron doors closing behind her. She paid for the ride, dropping a few silver coins into the jar and then took a seat in the front. Arabella glanced out the window, waving as the bus pulled away from the stop. She lived 'out west' as some would call it. Dust and sandy roads, cars from the sixties and shining silver trailers. To some it was the lowest you could get in life, but to Arabella it was home. Everyone within the small town she lived in, a green suburb, was so kind.
She was heading off to the city, to take a job as a music teacher. Arabella had her guitar case beside her, along with a suitcase and shoulder bag. Not much, but it was.. well not much. But in Ravenblack city, she planned on making something out of 'not much'. She wore a white and brown sun dress, stopping at her knees. The top was brown, an empire waist, and the rest of the dress was white with little flower prints. She was also wearing bright red boots that came up to her knees. Arabella wore them because they sparkled.
After hours on the hot bus, she finally arrived in the city. She was the last one off, and as she got out of the bus and looked around, her eyes widened in delight. Arabella hadn't known what exactly to expect here, but this was incredible. After looking around for what seemed forever, she remembered her directions and took them out of her shoulder bag. She read the directions to her new apartment and then folded the piece of paper back up and put it back into the bag.
She took a deep breath, and then started on her way. Arabella had arrived in the city rather late, later than planned. It was dark out, the only light coming from the street lamps, since the stars could not be seen in the city. The streets were deserted, and it was beginning to get a little creepy. Arabella stopped at the corner of the street, seeing the little red hand telling her to 'stop and wait' but there was nothing coming. She stepped down, onto the road, and then paused, hearing a faint sound.
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Post by Chloé Flannigan on Dec 29, 2009 5:05:09 GMT -5
The wind whipped around Chloe's arms and neck, the helmet stuck steadfastly on her head keeping the wind from messing up her hair or beating her face into a mass of red blotches. She rarely took the bike for a spin. To be completely honest, she rarely drove anywhere. But tonight she was feeling lazy, and though she could have walked to work (like she usually did) she decided she'd ride. And she couldn't take the jeep, because she'd lended it to Thaddeus.
But she'd understimated the time it would take her to get to work on the bike. She usually gave herself plenty of time when walking. She figured, with a vehicle, the trip wouldn't take half as long. In fact, she believed it would only take a quarter of the time it would take to walk. But she was wrong. She'd not thought of traffic, or of the one-way streets. She'd done several loops, and now she was quite certain she was going to be late.
Finally, she turned onto a stretch of road that she recognised. Success! She accelerated, then, as the road ahead was clear of cars or obstructions, and she could see no vehicles that resembled police cars or vans. She would risk it, and speed. And then she might be on time. The girls didn't like it when she was late. It only meant that they had to stay longer when the only thing they wanted to do was go home after a hard day of work.
Chloe did not see the girl stepping off the sidewalk and onto the road. She'd not been looking at the sidewalks, she'd only been paying attention to the road. It was a classic mistake, and even as her eyes widened upon seeing the girl so suddenly, she could hear her father's berating tone in her head. Well, too late now.
The bike was far too close to the girl, and though Chloe swerved to try to avoid her the road was slick with recent rain. Chloe pulled the breaks, but to no avail--the bike went sliding, skidding, ever closer to the unwary pedestrian. And it was so close. If Chloe had turned but an inch sooner, a collision could have been avoided. But, as it was, the back end of the bike viciously swiped the girl.
Chloe heard the collision, and felt it, though she did not see right away the kind of damage it inflicted. The bike continued to slide sideways, and Chloe scrambled off the top of if before it crushed her leg beneath it. It continued to slide a small ways, metal sparking against bitumen.
Taking a deep breath, Chloe took a moment to gather her senses before finally springing to action. She tore the helmet from her head and dropped it as she scrambled to her feet, the thing clattering noisily against the hard surface of the road.
"Oooh shit." She cursed, her reaction so human that no one could ever mistake her for anything else. At least, not quite yet. She skidded to her knees beside the girl, careful not to touch her lest she harm her more, though her hands fluttered uncertainly above the girl and her wounds.
"I'm so... So sorry. Are you... Can you speak?" she said, hastily enquiring. She was frazzled, and didn't think that the best thing she should do was call an ambulance. But the thought suddenly struck her, and she suddenly straightened up, digging into the pocket of her faux leather jacket to procure her phone. But the pocket was empty. All the pockets were empty. She glanced back at the bike, as if it might tell her where she'd put her phone.
"Aah! Damn it to hell." She mumbled incoherently to herself as she realised she'd left her phone and wallet behind in her haste to leave. She turned her hopeful attention back to the girl--maybe she'd be okay. Maybe, just maybe, there'd be no need for an ambulance...
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Post by Arabella Fossil on Dec 29, 2009 12:40:07 GMT -5
She couldn't believe what had just happened to her. Arabella would have felt like she was in a dream, if not for the constant pain running through her body. The face of the woman who had hit her was blured and partly in the shadows, for the only light in the abandoned street came from a street lamp nearby. So it was hard to tell much about her hitter, and now savior, who was trying to help her.
When the woman spoke again, saying that she could help her, Arabella heard a strong Irish accent. It calmed her a little, reminding her of the McHughs back at home, who were Irish immigrants. But when the woman said that help probably wasn't going to get here in time, her heart began racing. She did not want to die, not like this. And all from a simple, and stupid mistake of not looking both ways before she crossed the street. Arabella could almost kick herself from not listening to what she had always been told as a child.
Her brow furrowed as the woman said that she could keep her from dying, but her life would never go back to the way it was. Why did she mean? Would she lose her leg and became handicapped or something? Arabella didn't know how serious her wounds were. 'It'll be strange, sinster almost'. What did the woman mean? What was she going to do to her?
'But at least you'll be alive.' At this Arabella relaxed her face, that was what mattered most, surviving. Even it that would include losing her leg, or whatever it was this woman had planned for her. 'You'll need to trust me.' She looked up into the woman's eyes, questionally at first, as if she was searching for something that she just couldn't find. But then she nodded. "I trust you." She said quietly as she held onto the woman's hand tightly. "My name's Arabella Fossil." She said softly.
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Post by Chloé Flannigan on Dec 30, 2009 7:07:46 GMT -5
The blood pouring from the girl’s side stirred something in Chloe; it was a blood lust that she’d learned to control, and which she could control easily. She wasn’t in the habit of denying herself the only thing she’d ever craved with an addictive intensity. So although she was well able to keep a cool head in this situation regarding her alternative nature, the scent of blood sharpened every single sense and brought her instinctual reactions into sharp clarity.
A deadly calm came over her formerly nervous features as she bend over the human, hand resting ever so gently upon her torso, just above the piece of shrapnel stuck there. The thing would have to be removed before she did a thing. But before Chloe did anything else, she had to be sure that the girl was desperate enough to live that she’d accept the kind of life that Chloe could offer to her.
“Alright, I can help you.” She spoke slowly, so that her strong Irish accent could not be misunderstood.
“I don’t think anyone else will get here in time. I can... I can keep you from dying, but your life could never go back to the way it was.” She licked her lips, contemplating how she ought to continue. The girl had wide, awesomely bright blue eyes, the kind of eyes that nobody could ever deny. She knew that she had to do all that was in her power to keep this one alive, simply because she was consumed with guilt, and this girl did not deserve to die due to a stupid accident.
“It’ll be strange, sinister almost. But you can get used to it. And you’ll at least be alive. You’ll need to trust me.” She said, shuffling the tiniest bit closer and clasping the girl’s hand tightly.
“What’s your name?” She asked, as an afterthought. It would be far easier for her to trust Chloe if they were at least acquainted.
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Post by Arabella Fossil on Dec 30, 2009 11:44:44 GMT -5
She couldn't believe what had just happened to her. Arabella would have felt like she was in a dream, if not for the constant pain running through her body. The face of the woman who had hit her was blured and partly in the shadows, for the only light in the abandoned street came from a street lamp nearby. So it was hard to tell much about her hitter, and now savior, who was trying to help her.
When the woman spoke again, saying that she could help her, Arabella heard a strong Irish accent. It calmed her a little, reminding her of the McHughs back at home, who were Irish immigrants. But when the woman said that help probably wasn't going to get here in time, her heart began racing. She did not want to die, not like this. And all from a simple, and stupid mistake of not looking both ways before she crossed the street. Arabella could almost kick herself from not listening to what she had always been told as a child.
Her brow furrowed as the woman said that she could keep her from dying, but her life would never go back to the way it was. Why did she mean? Would she lose her leg and became handicapped or something? Arabella didn't know how serious her wounds were. 'It'll be strange, sinster almost'. What did the woman mean? What was she going to do to her?
'But at least you'll be alive.' At this Arabella relaxed her face, that was what mattered most, surviving. Even it that would include losing her leg, or whatever it was this woman had planned for her. 'You'll need to trust me.' She looked up into the woman's eyes, questionally at first, as if she was searching for something that she just couldn't find. But then she nodded. "I trust you." She said quietly as she held onto the woman's hand tightly. "My name's Arabella Fossil." She said softly.
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Post by Chloé Flannigan on Dec 31, 2009 0:21:54 GMT -5
“Okay, Arabella. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot before it gets any better, and I’m going to apologise ahead of time.” Chloe said. She then gritted her teeth and gripped the piece of shrapnel and pulled it from Arabella’s torso. The thing may have been steadfastly stuck in its position, but it slid out without any protests. It was smooth, so smooth that you could hardly understand why it would have caused so much damage. But after the piece of metal was gone, the blood started pouring more freely, and Chloe felt the express need to hasten with her plan. The hand that had been resting above the wound slid over the top of it in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Not that it would matter in a few seconds, anyway.
Chloe then lifted Arabella’s hand, pulling the wrist to her mouth. AS her elongated canine’s pierced the skin, she refused to look at Arabella; the girl would no doubt be disbelieving, horrified, and wondering why she ever put her trust in this crazy stranger. She hardly enjoyed this little meal. There was too much riding on it, and the guilt was far too great for her to enjoy the death of Arabella.
As it was, there wasn’t as much blood left to drain as there usually was. No, a hell of a lot of Arabella’s blood was pooling upon the pavement.
When she felt Arabella’s heartbeat slow, she let go of her wrist in order to tear a significant hole in her own. She flinched as the pain stabbed its way up her arm, but she ignored it. She reached behind Arabella’s head in order to hold it up for her.
“I know it’s a strange thing to ask of you, but you have to drink my blood.” She sternly told Arabella. “I promise it will make you feel better.” She said, holding the wrist up in front of Arabella’s mouth.
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Post by Arabella Fossil on Dec 31, 2009 0:43:01 GMT -5
She didn't know why this was happening to her, but prehaps it was meant to happen this way. Arabella wasn't quite sure what was coming, but there seemed to be something gleaming in the woman's eyes. If she had been told earlier today that she would have been hit by a motorcycle for not looking both ways before crossing the street, have her leg broken, her head slammed against the pavement, a piece of metal sticking out of her torso, and a stranger about to dislodge the piece of metal, she wouldn't have believed it.
But this was just as real as anything else she knew, though she had never considered being in the position she was in now. Arabella could tell that the woman was holding back on something, prehaps what exactly she was going to do. She nodded as the woman prepared her, telling her that it would hurt before it would heal. Arabella took a deep breath before closing her eyes, wincing deeply in pain as the woman pulling on the piece of metal sticking in her torso.
She did not scream, for the metal came out surprisingly quickly and easily. Arabella did groan in pain however, and wince deeply, grinding her teeth together until it was out of her. But then she felt her blood leaving her body even faster now, and it scared her. Had taking the piece of metal out of her torso been for nothing? There was no way she was going to make it now, with all this blood coming out and no ambulance or hospitial.
Her thoughts were interupted as she opened her eyes in time to see the woman lift her hand and put her wrist into her mouth. Arabella's eyes widened in alarm and confusion, before wincing once more in pain as the woman's teeth sunk into her flesh. Her teeth must have been razor sharp, Arabella didn't understand it. She didn't understand why the woman had done it either. Surprisingly, this pain was not the same as what she had felt before. If not for the other pain and blood loss going on at the moment, this might have almost been an experience for her.
What was this woman, a vampire or something? She stared up at her, her eyes lit with confusion, pain and disbelief. She began to grow weak, feeling her heart slow. At last, the woman pulled her wrist out of her mouth, before raising her head gently from the pavement. She looked at her once more in disbelief as she cut her own wrist and then told her to drink from it, despite how strange that sounded.
Arabella's breathing had became quicker-- shallower. She was losing her energy, her life. And somehow, she knew that if she didn't do what she was told right now, she was going to die. And Arabella didn't want that. So with a deep breath once more, she brought the woman's wrist closer to her mouth and drank her warm blood.
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Post by Chloé Flannigan on Jan 1, 2010 2:21:30 GMT -5
Chloe tried to relax, to allow the blood to flow easier, and with less pain. She let Arabella take as much as she possibly could; the wounds were deep, and there were broken bones involved. If she wanted to wake up relatively unscathed, she’d need a hell of a lot of medicine. Although Chloe wasn’t as experienced as she’d like to be in the area, she figured she could do without the blood. She let it go, let it continue to flow, trusting in her gut instinct to tell her when it was the right time to stop.
She bowed her head over her own breast, eyes screwed shut. It wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience. But it was elating, none-the-less. To know that she was fixing something that she’d broken, she was giving another person a second chance, and she was doing so by sacrificing her own life-giving liquid.
But after a while Chloe felt her head grow fuzzy, and when she opened her eyes the world spun madly around her. Yeah, it was about time to stop.
So she gently pulled her wrist away from Arabella. She her wounded wrist to her stomach, against the black material of her shirt to stop the bleeding. But even as she suffered her own kind of weakness, now, she did her best not to show it. It was her time to appear strong for Arabella—to be a statue of good faith and good intentions. There was no telling how the human would react to such a change. There could be utter shock, disbelief, anger...relief, if at all possible. And Chloe had to be ready for it.
She removed her hand from the girl’s torso—the vicious wound caused by the piece of shrapnel had stopped bleeding. Chloe pushed the material of the girl’s dress aside to see that the skin beneath was stitching itself together. Success!
She couldn’t help but smile, showing her own relief.
There was a rule in the bloodline, that she should ask permission from her sire before siring another. Chloe wondered what the implications might be, though she found herself uncaring of them. There had been other rules that she’d not followed, either, and thus far she’d not been persecuted for it. And lo and behold, she’d saved a life! She did not believe she should be persecuted for such a thing, anyhow.
She pushed Seppuku and his rules out of her mind as she contemplated her new childe.
“You alright, Arabella?” She asked.
“My name’s Chloe, by the way.” She said last, realising that she’d not returned the courtesy beforehand.
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Post by Arabella Fossil on Jan 1, 2010 12:48:43 GMT -5
At first, besides the fact that it was extremely odd to drink another person's blood, the woman's blood tasted.. well, what exactly did blood taste like? It was not a good taste, that much was for sure. Yet she detected something strange, something different in the woman's blood than her own. She couldn't quite lay her finger on what it was however.
But then things began to change, slowly at first and then more rapidly. The blood began to taste better, turn sweeter even. And suddenly, within a few moments of drinking her blood, the taste completely changed and Arabella wanted more. She felt an almost tickling feeling occuring on her stomach, but couldn't look down to see what exactly was going on.
Her wounds were healing, underneath her clothes, bringing her exposed insides back to together. She was healing herself. Was it the blood that was doing this? Or her new, changing body. Arabella felt changes happening all throughout her body. She felt a tingling feeling in her mouth, as small fangs appeared and grew as she continued to drink the woman's blood.
Arabella also felt her head begin to spin as whatever came along with being whatever Chloe was began to happen to her. Of course, some of the things she shouldn't notice until later. When the woman pulled her wrist back, Arabella gasped wiping the blood off her lips and chin with the back of her hand. She felt dizzy and out of it, in a dream state almost, yet conscious and much more alarm than before.
What exactly.. had just happened to her? After taking a few moments to regain herself, Arabella turned her head, looking up at the woman as she asked if she was alright and then introduced herself. "Yes, I'm alright now. What exactly did you just do to me Chloe?" She asked, having a few guesses in her mind, but she wanted to hear from Chloe what exactly had just happened.
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Post by Chloé Flannigan on Jan 3, 2010 0:16:37 GMT -5
Chloe relaxed back on her knees, a veritable frown creasing her brow as she considered Arabella’s question. How best to answer it without freaking her out completely? There was a good chance the girl wouldn’t believe her. And as much as Chloe might rave about the change having saved Arabella’s life, it didn’t change the fact that Chloe was the one who’d killed her to begin with.
She sighed, cleared her throat, and began.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve...” She narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and then decided to just say it. Best to just say it, like ripping off a band-aid. “I’ve given you my blood. It has healing properties, and so you did not die. But it’s made you a vampire.” She said, eyes wide as she said it, the word slipping conspicuously from her lips but sounding so ridiculous out loud. Chloe was always an eccentric and had always believed in the supernatural, to a certain extent. Hell, she’d come to this city looking for it, and so she was able to handle it.
Arabella, though, may have been completely ignorant of anything untoward in the city and Chloe had completely ruined it for her.
“There are perks... and downfalls.” She said, “but it was the only thing I could think of to keep you alive.” She bowed her head, shaking it regretfully. “It’s all my fault. I don’t expect you to forgive me. But the transition can be... tedious. I won’t leave you alone.” She said, finally, before waiting for a response, or for a barrage of questions.
She only wished she had somewhere for Arabella to sleep. She had an apartment of her own, and though Arabella was welcome to stay on the couch, it would, by no means, be comfortable long-term arrangement. Perhaps she could talk to the landlord, see if there were any other apartments in the building that the girl could rent. But perhaps she already had a place to go, and Chloe was merely getting in the way.
She was getting far too ahead of herself. Best to get this initial conversation finished, and tell Arabella all she needed to know about her new existence before figuring out the smaller details.
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