![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingIn which you can tell that, unlike Laurell Hamilton, I do not live in St. Louis. For example, while there is a Motel 6 where I've located it -- the chain's website and Google maps agree on that -- I have no idea what its buildings or service are like. But never mind the details, lalala, look at the pretty vampires! *silly* (1,600 words)
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Weregild, part 4
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Arthur stared at the vampire who'd just been foisted on him and Dom as their prison-guard by any other name. Ariadne was tiny and delicate, her dark brown hair worn long, loose, and slightly wavy, and her eyes dark against her pale skin. She looked like a china doll, not that he would say that to her face. Vampires who were small or who'd been turned young -- and while he was fairly sure Ariadne had been at least in her late teens when she breathed her last, he would be astonished if she'd been much over drinking age -- could be violently sensitive about their appearances.
Even when they weren't wearing nothing but a scarlet corset festooned with tiny silver keys, scarlet silk stockings held up with black garter belts, a black silk ribbon pretending to be a necklace, and three-inch black stiletto heels.
"We can leave whenever you want," Arthur said, "but if you'd like to change or find a coat..."
Ariadne glanced down at her outfit and went still for a second. "Oh. Right. Wait here."
She slipped from the room almost faster than Arthur could track, leaving the door open behind her. The heavy velvet curtain still blocked Dom and Arthur from the sight of anyone in the club's main room, but they could both hear the slinky, pounding music and potentially be overheard in turn.
"Thank god," Dom said, standing and stalking back and forth along the back wall. "That girl is way too young to be wearing that outfit."
"She's older than I am," Arthur pointed out. He tipped his chair back again and added, unable to resist, "Besides, I think she carries it off well. Did you see her legs?"
Dom smacked the top of his head, mussing Arthur's hair slightly. "Don't even start. I don't care if she's your type -- she works for Jean-Claude and she's going to tell everyone where we're sleeping."
"We can take shifts if you're feeling paranoid," Arthur said.
"Good," said Dom, and continued his pacing, frustration and a mild case of nerves practically boiling off him. Arthur stared at the ceiling and started running scenarios for tomorrow's likely meeting with Jean-Claude. The Master of the City would almost certainly want to start from a place of intimidating strength, which suggested they'd be called underneath the Circus. Hopefully Arthur wouldn't have to relinquish his gun and knives -- not that he expected them to do him much good while he was surrounded by Jean-Claude's people, but if nothing else they would give him peace of mind, and that would translate usefully to confident body language and a lack of fear scents.
They would also be invaluable if things went sideways and he was forced to fight a duel, which was sadly more probable than he might wish. Vampire politics had a way of turning both personal and deadly at the most inconvenient times.
Ariadne knocked on the frame of the open door, her right arm holding the curtain halfway aside. "Your drinks are on the house, gentlemen," she said. "Unless you have any other business to take care of...?"
Arthur glanced at Dom, who shook his head. "We're ready."
Ariadne pulled the curtain back while they exited the room, then led them across the increasingly lust-soaked main floor of the club, neatly avoiding any physical contact with the occasionally rowdy patrons. None of them seemed to recognize her without her work clothes, despite her pale skin and the lingering sense of stillness all vampires carried after a few decades.
That was less surprising than it seemed, though. Ariadne had changed into brown corduroys and a pink t-shirt, the black ribbon necklace had been replaced by a gauzy golden scarf, and a red knit jacket was tied around her waist. Even her power was tightly pulled in and muted. If he couldn't feel that she was a master vampire, Arthur thought he might have taken her for a college student, someone young and utterly harmless. Most people searching for a threat or challenge would skip right over her. That wasn't a strategy designed to gain power or influence. It was a strategy designed for survival.
Arthur wondered what she'd be like if she let down her guard.
Then he stomped on that thought with extreme prejudice. Dom was right. Ariadne was beholden to Jean-Claude, and this was not the time to indulge in anything that might distract from their plan.
"Where are you staying?" Ariadne asked as they stepped out into the cool autumn night. The air was still thick with the promise of rain, though the clouds had let up for the moment and Arthur didn't have to regret his lack of an umbrella.
"The Motel 6 off I-270, near Bellefontaine Road," Dom said, hurrying down the steps to the street and shrugging his coat on over his shoulders. "You're driving," he added to Arthur.
Sensible. If things went sour, Dom could get his claws into Ariadne's throat faster and more reliably than Arthur could pull his gun and take a shot.
Dom led the way to a municipal parking garage just outside the Blood District. It was filled with cars at this time of night: a high percentage of the tourists and regular visitors didn't want to admit they were coming to see the vampires, and wanted the plausible deniability of parking somewhere not in full view of all the other gawkers. The whole thing was ridiculous, of course. Since there was nothing else of interest for several blocks on all sides of the District, anyone parking in the garage was visiting the District, and they could all see each other, but human nature was frequently ridiculous and rarely logical. Arthur had learned to appreciate the resulting humor over the years.
When they reached the rental car -- a blue Ford Focus sedan -- Arthur pulled the keys from his coat pocket and pressed the automatic unlock button. "No, take the other side," he said when Ariadne moved to open the driver's side rear door. "Dom sits behind me."
"A few extra inches won't make you much safer," she said, but she walked around the car without further protest.
They drove to the motel in silence. Halfway there, Ariadne sighed and leaned her head against the corner where the seatback met the door. It was a terribly human gesture.
Arthur wondered what she meant by it.
He pulled into the motel's driveway and parked the car neatly outside the room he and Dom were sharing. "Here we are, #106. Home sweet home for as long as your master lets us stay," he said as he pulled out the keys and opened his door. "Do you have a cell phone or would you like to use the room phone to call for a ride?"
"That won't be necessary, but I do need to come inside for a minute to check that you aren't hiding any objects or people Jean-Claude should know about," Ariadne said as she slid out of the car. "Sorry for the inconvenience."
An apologetic vampire. Wonders would never cease. Even Mal, lovely as she'd been, had only rarely apologized, and never so easily and openly.
Arthur glanced at Dom, who grimaced and shrugged. They were here on Jean-Claude's sufferance; they had no real recourse if his people got pushy. "Be our guest," Arthur said as Dom slid the keycard into the reader and pushed the heavy door open -- not quite a formal invitation, but close enough for a residence as temporary and flimsy as a motel.
Ariadne walked into the room and looked around with an expression of polite interest. Arthur knew she wouldn't find anything to report. They hadn't left anything incriminating in the open, for the very good reason that they hadn't brought anything incriminating. His weapons were perfectly reasonable for a human who lived and worked around the preternatural, his clothes in the closet and Dom's folded in the dresser were clean and the pockets empty, and while a cautious person might insist on taking away his laptop, most vampires hadn't yet gotten into the habit of paying attention to modern technology when dealing with people they considered part of their own society rather than part of the outside world.
Sure enough, while Ariadne frowned at the laptop for a minute, she left it alone and charging on the motel table.
"You're very tidy for two men living alone," Ariadne said after opening the bathroom door and verifying that nobody was hiding in the shower. "One last thing, and I'll leave you alone for the night."
Arthur opened his mouth to ask what further hoop they needed to jump through, but the words never left his mouth.
Ariadne's power spread through the motel room like cool strands of silk writhing over his clothes, touching and tasting every inch of his skin, wrapping tighter and tighter until they seemed to sink into his bones, reaching for his very self. Arthur tensed, snapping into the cold, dark place he used both to raise the dead and kill the living. Distantly, he thought he heard Dom growl and felt the faint heat that meant his beast was rising nearly to the surface, but all Arthur's attention was locked on Ariadne, his eyes locked to hers, which had grown so dark they seemed to swallow all the ambient light until all he could see was their captured glow.
And then her power snapped back, gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"Thank you," she said, and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
By the time Arthur flung it open, she was gone.
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TBC... probably
back to part 3
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I should probably mention that for purposes of making my life simpler, this story is set in 2011. Therefore, Guilty Pleasures happened in July 2009, and we will all pretend any technology discrepancies don't exist. Okay? Good.
...
I don't know what on earth is going on in my head. I have written slightly over 5,000 words of this in three days, which is a ridiculously fast pace for me. I have an outline. (A very vague outline, but still, an outline.) I made character timelines. I read plot summaries of every Anita Blake novel and a lot of ancillary wiki pages for research. I went out and freaking bought a used copy of Guilty Pleasures and am halfway through rereading it, for goodness sake.
What is wrong with me???
...
Part 5 will probably be up tomorrow or Tuesday. I want to find out what happens next!
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Weregild, part 4
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Arthur stared at the vampire who'd just been foisted on him and Dom as their prison-guard by any other name. Ariadne was tiny and delicate, her dark brown hair worn long, loose, and slightly wavy, and her eyes dark against her pale skin. She looked like a china doll, not that he would say that to her face. Vampires who were small or who'd been turned young -- and while he was fairly sure Ariadne had been at least in her late teens when she breathed her last, he would be astonished if she'd been much over drinking age -- could be violently sensitive about their appearances.
Even when they weren't wearing nothing but a scarlet corset festooned with tiny silver keys, scarlet silk stockings held up with black garter belts, a black silk ribbon pretending to be a necklace, and three-inch black stiletto heels.
"We can leave whenever you want," Arthur said, "but if you'd like to change or find a coat..."
Ariadne glanced down at her outfit and went still for a second. "Oh. Right. Wait here."
She slipped from the room almost faster than Arthur could track, leaving the door open behind her. The heavy velvet curtain still blocked Dom and Arthur from the sight of anyone in the club's main room, but they could both hear the slinky, pounding music and potentially be overheard in turn.
"Thank god," Dom said, standing and stalking back and forth along the back wall. "That girl is way too young to be wearing that outfit."
"She's older than I am," Arthur pointed out. He tipped his chair back again and added, unable to resist, "Besides, I think she carries it off well. Did you see her legs?"
Dom smacked the top of his head, mussing Arthur's hair slightly. "Don't even start. I don't care if she's your type -- she works for Jean-Claude and she's going to tell everyone where we're sleeping."
"We can take shifts if you're feeling paranoid," Arthur said.
"Good," said Dom, and continued his pacing, frustration and a mild case of nerves practically boiling off him. Arthur stared at the ceiling and started running scenarios for tomorrow's likely meeting with Jean-Claude. The Master of the City would almost certainly want to start from a place of intimidating strength, which suggested they'd be called underneath the Circus. Hopefully Arthur wouldn't have to relinquish his gun and knives -- not that he expected them to do him much good while he was surrounded by Jean-Claude's people, but if nothing else they would give him peace of mind, and that would translate usefully to confident body language and a lack of fear scents.
They would also be invaluable if things went sideways and he was forced to fight a duel, which was sadly more probable than he might wish. Vampire politics had a way of turning both personal and deadly at the most inconvenient times.
Ariadne knocked on the frame of the open door, her right arm holding the curtain halfway aside. "Your drinks are on the house, gentlemen," she said. "Unless you have any other business to take care of...?"
Arthur glanced at Dom, who shook his head. "We're ready."
Ariadne pulled the curtain back while they exited the room, then led them across the increasingly lust-soaked main floor of the club, neatly avoiding any physical contact with the occasionally rowdy patrons. None of them seemed to recognize her without her work clothes, despite her pale skin and the lingering sense of stillness all vampires carried after a few decades.
That was less surprising than it seemed, though. Ariadne had changed into brown corduroys and a pink t-shirt, the black ribbon necklace had been replaced by a gauzy golden scarf, and a red knit jacket was tied around her waist. Even her power was tightly pulled in and muted. If he couldn't feel that she was a master vampire, Arthur thought he might have taken her for a college student, someone young and utterly harmless. Most people searching for a threat or challenge would skip right over her. That wasn't a strategy designed to gain power or influence. It was a strategy designed for survival.
Arthur wondered what she'd be like if she let down her guard.
Then he stomped on that thought with extreme prejudice. Dom was right. Ariadne was beholden to Jean-Claude, and this was not the time to indulge in anything that might distract from their plan.
"Where are you staying?" Ariadne asked as they stepped out into the cool autumn night. The air was still thick with the promise of rain, though the clouds had let up for the moment and Arthur didn't have to regret his lack of an umbrella.
"The Motel 6 off I-270, near Bellefontaine Road," Dom said, hurrying down the steps to the street and shrugging his coat on over his shoulders. "You're driving," he added to Arthur.
Sensible. If things went sour, Dom could get his claws into Ariadne's throat faster and more reliably than Arthur could pull his gun and take a shot.
Dom led the way to a municipal parking garage just outside the Blood District. It was filled with cars at this time of night: a high percentage of the tourists and regular visitors didn't want to admit they were coming to see the vampires, and wanted the plausible deniability of parking somewhere not in full view of all the other gawkers. The whole thing was ridiculous, of course. Since there was nothing else of interest for several blocks on all sides of the District, anyone parking in the garage was visiting the District, and they could all see each other, but human nature was frequently ridiculous and rarely logical. Arthur had learned to appreciate the resulting humor over the years.
When they reached the rental car -- a blue Ford Focus sedan -- Arthur pulled the keys from his coat pocket and pressed the automatic unlock button. "No, take the other side," he said when Ariadne moved to open the driver's side rear door. "Dom sits behind me."
"A few extra inches won't make you much safer," she said, but she walked around the car without further protest.
They drove to the motel in silence. Halfway there, Ariadne sighed and leaned her head against the corner where the seatback met the door. It was a terribly human gesture.
Arthur wondered what she meant by it.
He pulled into the motel's driveway and parked the car neatly outside the room he and Dom were sharing. "Here we are, #106. Home sweet home for as long as your master lets us stay," he said as he pulled out the keys and opened his door. "Do you have a cell phone or would you like to use the room phone to call for a ride?"
"That won't be necessary, but I do need to come inside for a minute to check that you aren't hiding any objects or people Jean-Claude should know about," Ariadne said as she slid out of the car. "Sorry for the inconvenience."
An apologetic vampire. Wonders would never cease. Even Mal, lovely as she'd been, had only rarely apologized, and never so easily and openly.
Arthur glanced at Dom, who grimaced and shrugged. They were here on Jean-Claude's sufferance; they had no real recourse if his people got pushy. "Be our guest," Arthur said as Dom slid the keycard into the reader and pushed the heavy door open -- not quite a formal invitation, but close enough for a residence as temporary and flimsy as a motel.
Ariadne walked into the room and looked around with an expression of polite interest. Arthur knew she wouldn't find anything to report. They hadn't left anything incriminating in the open, for the very good reason that they hadn't brought anything incriminating. His weapons were perfectly reasonable for a human who lived and worked around the preternatural, his clothes in the closet and Dom's folded in the dresser were clean and the pockets empty, and while a cautious person might insist on taking away his laptop, most vampires hadn't yet gotten into the habit of paying attention to modern technology when dealing with people they considered part of their own society rather than part of the outside world.
Sure enough, while Ariadne frowned at the laptop for a minute, she left it alone and charging on the motel table.
"You're very tidy for two men living alone," Ariadne said after opening the bathroom door and verifying that nobody was hiding in the shower. "One last thing, and I'll leave you alone for the night."
Arthur opened his mouth to ask what further hoop they needed to jump through, but the words never left his mouth.
Ariadne's power spread through the motel room like cool strands of silk writhing over his clothes, touching and tasting every inch of his skin, wrapping tighter and tighter until they seemed to sink into his bones, reaching for his very self. Arthur tensed, snapping into the cold, dark place he used both to raise the dead and kill the living. Distantly, he thought he heard Dom growl and felt the faint heat that meant his beast was rising nearly to the surface, but all Arthur's attention was locked on Ariadne, his eyes locked to hers, which had grown so dark they seemed to swallow all the ambient light until all he could see was their captured glow.
And then her power snapped back, gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"Thank you," she said, and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
By the time Arthur flung it open, she was gone.
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TBC... probably
back to part 3
---------------------------------------------
I should probably mention that for purposes of making my life simpler, this story is set in 2011. Therefore, Guilty Pleasures happened in July 2009, and we will all pretend any technology discrepancies don't exist. Okay? Good.
...
I don't know what on earth is going on in my head. I have written slightly over 5,000 words of this in three days, which is a ridiculously fast pace for me. I have an outline. (A very vague outline, but still, an outline.) I made character timelines. I read plot summaries of every Anita Blake novel and a lot of ancillary wiki pages for research. I went out and freaking bought a used copy of Guilty Pleasures and am halfway through rereading it, for goodness sake.
What is wrong with me???
...
Part 5 will probably be up tomorrow or Tuesday. I want to find out what happens next!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 12:54 am (UTC)"No, take the other side," he said when Ariadne moved to open the driver's side rear door. "Dom sits behind me."
"A few extra inches won't make you much safer," she said, but she walked around the car without further protest.
And:
Ariadne's power spread through the motel room like cool strands of silk writhing over his clothes, touching and tasting every inch of his skin, wrapping tighter and tighter until they seemed to sink into his bones, reaching for his very self. Arthur tensed, snapping into the cold, dark place he used both to raise the dead and kill the living. Distantly, he thought he heard Dom growl and felt the faint heat that meant his beast was rising nearly to the surface, but all Arthur's attention was locked on Ariadne, his eyes locked to hers, which had grown so dark they seemed to swallow all the ambient light until all he could see was their captured glow.
I'm excited to find out more! ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 02:06 am (UTC)I am currently a couple hundred words into part 5, wherein a bit of Ariadne's power is revealed and there will, I think, be a meeting underneath the Circus so Jean-Claude can figure out what he wants to do.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 01:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-29 01:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 10:20 am (UTC)Even when they weren't wearing nothing but a scarlet corset festooned with tiny silver keys, scarlet silk stockings held up with black garter belts, a black silk ribbon pretending to be a necklace, and three-inch black stiletto heels.
*snerk*
I'm enjoying Ariadne so far, she's an interesting dichotomy. What does her power dooo aaa so curious. X333 I liked that she didn't pay attention to the laptop, too. And mmm the partnership between Arthur and Dom.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 02:15 am (UTC)Ariadne, for all that she does a good job of playing young and human, has been a vampire for nearly sixty years and was turned in 1953. She is more familiar with computer than a lot of vampires, but they're still not something she grew up with. Her power will be revealed soonish, I promise!
Arthur and Dom make a good team. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 01:06 pm (UTC)Rock on, creator.
C
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 02:16 am (UTC)*hurries off to work on part 5*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 03:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 02:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 09:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 02:19 am (UTC)Some of Ariadne's power will be explained in part 5, and the rest of the plot will come clear as the story progresses. (I mean, assuming I don't slip up.)