Skeletons in the Closet (Semi-Open)

admin_jared Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:50 am

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Spoiler:

Penn Rutherford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:23 pm

(Penn continues from his origin)

SUNDAY MORNING
THE GRIDDLE CAFÉ, SUNSET BLVD

The sun was warm enough to enjoy eating outside, and without breaking through the mountains and buildings to blind you. Penn and Ava had plans to meet up that morning. He had considered cancelling, but with Ava’s connection to occult lore and her mother’s longstanding career as one of Hollywood’s top psychics he needed some otherworldly guidance. Still shaken up from the whole incident he filled his face with large fluffy pancakes covered thoroughly with powdered sugar. Ava leaned in with her fork ready and grabbed a mouth-sized piece he’d just finished cutting. Penn’s mouth was full and his “Hey!” in retaliation was muffled.

She popped the buttermilk treat in her mouth, savoring the masterwork. The griddle café’s pancakes were legendary and it was obvious by the line-up that trailed around the building. Both had waited hours in the past to know just the right time to show up for breakfast. While licking the powder off her fork Ava made eye contact and then spoke. “How was the graveyard shift last night?”

Penn swallowed and caught his breath before replying. “Not as eventful as a sober bar crawl with you I’m sure.” He played into her hand knowing exactly where she was going. He felt bad that his new position was taking him away, but glad it also removed the temptations he would have been exposed to. She slouched in her chair with a Cheshire grin obviously sore that he hadn’t met up with the group that night.

He cut a giant slice from his pile of pancakes and with his fork and knife balanced it from his own plate to a small empty one. Ava glowed as if all was forgiven, at least until she finished eating. “Anyway, I was at Runyon after work and about a mile from the dog park I heard this scream in the woods.” He continued the story only stopping for small bites of his breakfast. Ava sipped on her coffee intently listening to him showing no signs of disbelief. Even though everything he said seemed completely ridiculous.

She perked up at the identifying factors being listed about the monster. “That sounds a lot like a powrie, these little fairy things. They have to keep their hats wet with the blood of victims.” She leaned in and placed a hand over his forearm. “You’re not drinking again are you?”

“No, I am not drinking…” He stated with a slight tinge of annoyance. Penn gestured with his fork trying to be funny and scratched his forehead.

Seiko Ishitomo Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:25 pm

( Seiko is continued from here)

Three days after escape.
Sunset Boulevard .
10:45 am

Into the bustle and hype of the vastly populated boulevard she'd stepped, once bared feet now clad in expensive heels that appeared the hybrid of combat boots and runway apparel. If she'd been seen just days before, the charismatic femme was nothing less then appealing to the eye; comparatively. Once matted and frizzed hair had been professionally styled and straightened to hang in shimmering sheets around those unblemished and alluring features. Clinging to every thinkable curve of her upper body was a snug black tank exposing the low slug straps of her crimson bra. From waist to boot rested a pair of near weightless khaki cargos that rested in relaxed billows around her shapely legs.

How she'd means to acquire such things was all about timing. The day following her escape she'd cleaned up as best as she could with limited means and set herself out to hunt.. Roaming various street in search of the thing she desired most.

Attention.

Such was found in the eyes and actions of a gent but six years her elder. His shoulder wore the finest of suit and his wrist lavished in Rolex. The man invited her out to a local hot spot, she arguing that she was nothing close to being presentable. Under his own insistence she was outfitted with a simple slip of a dress and the few essentials needed for a night out. After the evening wound down and the pair inevitably visited in his hotel suite, he'd made an advance on her that ended him with a broken jaw, two fractured ribs and the understanding that despite these injuries, his life was her gift to him. As she left the sniveling shit broken and wallowing in his own urine, she swiped his wallet.

Lets not dwell on such things. As if she were Moses, the sea of pedestrians parted as she passed through, never once did a shoulder come close to touching her nor did she sway to avoid. Brilliant green rings rimmed with a shade of lighter green around almond shaped slits intently locked with every eye that dared, and with each eye that yielded and looked away, a soft grin tugged upon the corner of full, glossy lips. Her left hand held those mystic cards, skilled digits shifted and shuffled the deck out of habit now, and to any so acute, either the girl or the deck emitted an essence of magical talent.

It just so happened that she decided that day to swing in and have a bite to eat. THE GRIDDLE CAFÉ ... Seemed interesting enough.

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:27 pm

(Riley continues from here..)

SUNDAY MORNING;
THE FOUR SEASONS, SOUTH DOHENY DRIVE

L.A. was nothing new to Riley. He had visited the city time and time again while he was younger, and this time felt no different. The streets were still continuously rampant with hurried walkers and road rage, the noise filling the air and deafening those who were willing to take the time to listen. He hadn’t the time nor the compassion to breathe in what was around him. The young adult had his mind set to one thing, accepting no distractions to deviate him from his current task – humiliating the bellhop.

“Have you no sense? If one more of my things isn’t handled properly, I’ll have you working at a homeless shelter – perhaps you’ll take better care, there.” Huffing, the blond picked his fallen suitcase from the floor, setting it upright and onto the carrier the boy had been trying to put it on earlier. He dusted the side off with a gloved hand, raising his other to push back the scarf wrapped around his neck so that it didn’t come unraveled. “See to it that my things arrive in the suite in one piece, please. If one thing is out of place..” A warning? How kind. A stutter was stammered out in reply, the red-faced bellhop rushing to place the rest of Riley’s belongings onto the carrier before dashing off towards the service elevators.

The blond had arrived at L.A.X. around 5 in the morning, with but one person to greet him: Abigail Simms, his manager. The upper class lady trumped him with ten years of age, and had formed a close relationship with him in the past. She had been a part of L.A. since birth, and now she reined control over models and actors alike within the town. Promising to cater to the young boy’s needs, she had been the one to smooth over all of his plans of moving to the city of angels. Making sure he was checked into the extravagant hotel and that renovations of his new penthouse were being taken care of, Abigail left Riley at the Four Seasons with a promise of seeing him later that night. Until then, he’d have to find something around town to entertain himself with.

“I guess I could check out that shop.. I may be able to get by without being noticed.” Ever since his graduation night, though not too long ago, Riley had been hastily researching any logical means as to what had occurred. Sure, there were ghost stories and folk tales of evil demons who haunted their prey, but it was making himself believe in it that he was having trouble with. Even though the Gentleman Pym had been haunting him for years and attacked him, he was still struggling to come to terms with the factors. His first thought was his sanity; the stress of school and the pressure from his family might have been getting to him, though he ruled them both out quickly. Given the pull he felt to L.A, Riley researched occult shops and bookstores that littered the city so that he’d have hotspots to check out once he arrived.

Exiting the Four Seasons lobby, the socialite set out with one destination in mind: a breakfast café. His studies could wait; if he didn't put some food into his system now, he'd be dizzy for the rest of the day.

Penn Rutherford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:28 pm

Ava’s concern was misplaced, but still appreciated. Penn lightly grazed his fingertips along her wrist where she had attempted a supportive gesture. He studied the line of people along the sidewalk scrutinizing the volume of his voice as he started on again. “So these powies-”

“Powrie, it’s Border folklore.” she cut him off before the last letter could leave his lips with a tone like a teacher correcting a pupil. There was a hint of know-it-all in her words, but that wasn’t uncommon with Ava.

“Like Mexico? He’s an immigrant?” he retorted with a childish grin and a forkful of pancake wagging. His facial features transitioned from pleasant to pure disbelief complete with heavy brows tightened.

“No, Border folklore is like English folklore.” Not able to discern whether it was ignorance or just his attempt at a joke she focused on her pancakes. Her belly was feeling heavy so to avoid the temptation of eating more she tossed her napkin on the sweet remains. He watched appreciating her full attention while she nursed her coffee.

“What’s their weakness? What stops them?” Penn questioned.

Ava dropped her chin tilted in a dramatic manner poking fun at him. “In the fables, when their cap dries they die. These are fables! You’re seriously not going to run around LA looking for a little murderous man with a bloody hat fetish. Did they do something to you at the mental ward? Did one of patients bite you?” mimicking a hungry zombie she twisted the sarcastic knife at his expense.

Penn rolled his eyes and stroked the stubble on his chin addressing her apprehension. “Delusion isn’t like rabies.”
“Aha! So you admit you’re delusional.”

Not even entertaining her humor Penn stared into the crowd and perceived an Asian girl that could have been fidgeting with a deck of cards. Maybe it was her sleight of hand that drew in his attention, but she wasn’t harmful to gaze upon.

Carolina Kenyon Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:29 pm

(Carolina continues from her origin)

Sunday Morning
Carolina's apartment to The Griddle Cafe, Sunset Blvd.

Carolina was humming, humming with energy which was surprising since she‘d been up all night, humming with excitement, and just literally humming. It was a rather lively diddy, if she did say so herself. It made her lips tingle and her nose itch slightly and so she stopped. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she surveyed her handiwork. The once off white walls, rather dingy looking in her opinion, were now a sunshine yellow, bright and colorful. It was a color not to be found at her home in North Dakota. Her father had never permitted her to paint her walls any color besides those that matched the rest of the house. During her high school years she had skirted this rule by wallpapering her walls with posters. Now she had a yellow kitchen and deep teal bedroom and her blue eyes delighted in the liveliness of it.

She took in a deep breath and then coughed, and felt a little light headed. Bad idea. The fumes were a little strong yet, even though she had the window cracked open, allowing the sound of the outside world to filter in. It wasn’t particularly harmonious, but still it was noise and Carolina had always hated silence. She felt at odds, living, for really the first time, all alone. While her classmates had all gone to college, she had stayed home and taken care of her mom, and then after she died, it seemed the only to place to be close to her. But ever since, or because of, that night, Carolina had felt a pull elsewhere. And the commercial had been perfect timing, and she had somehow just known.

She frowned thinking about it, dark brows furrowing, and full lips thinning slightly. She knew she wasn’t crazy, despite what her brothers said, and that something had stopped that vehicle. And she had the suspicion that someone was her. Giving a shake of her head, she sighed. She might not be crazy, but she might be going crazy stuck in this room. That and her stomach was telling her in no uncertain terms that she needed to feed it. There wasn’t much in her apartment yet, the movers hadn’t yet arrived as she had wanted to get the painting done first. And so she had little furniture and little food, some bread, peanut butter, and jelly had been the staple of her diet for the past few days and she was quite sick of it. She needed to get out and with that decided she put such a plan in motion.

It wasn’t long after that she was ready. She often didn’t take too much time on her appearance, doing what felt right at the time. More often than not her outfits were not carefully planned and were almost always picked on a whim. Today was no different. Thick black hair was swept into two looped braids, pale gold thread woven through the three sections of each, so that when it caught the light it glittered faintly. Her bangs, as always fell just above bright blue eyes accented only by a light dusting of eye shadow.

As she stepped out onto the street, the sound of the flat soles of her converse tennis shoes hitting the pavement made her smile. It was an expression that lit her face, and made one look past the bright ensemble of clothing. Said clothing consisted of faded blue jeans, that looked like they’d been written on with a colored sharpie quite a few times, some words or drawings illegible from numerous washings, others, like the little wings drawn on either side of where the jeans laid over her ankles were more new and thus stood out on it’s backdrop of blue-white. Her shirts were layered, gold that matched the thread in her hair beneath, and teal, that matched her bedroom, on top. Add a few brightly colored thread necklaces and Carolina may have looked a bit quirky but no one could deny she didn’t look comfortable in her own skin or in her own choice in clothing.

Setting off, she had no real destination in mind, though she did keep track of what turns she was making, so as to be able to find her way back to her apartment. She had even written the address down and put it in her back pocket, just in case she failed to remember. She looked around, searching for the best place to get a meal, or rather somewhere that didn’t look like it would serve peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her attention was caught and held by one eatery in particular. The Griddle Café. Carolina definitely liked the sound of that. But such a line! She paused, her foot tapping, and then a shrug of her shoulders and she stepped toward the end. What else did she have to do? Good things come to those who wait, right? So the food had to be fantastic.

Seiko Ishitomo Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:30 pm

Ugh, lines.. Having stood in place for what may have been five minutes her patience began to wear thin. It was subtle at first, haunting emerald eyes shifted to look throughout the cafe that; astonishingly, looked bigger inside then it appeared from the street. The deck of cards that rested in her hand were slipped away into the depths of a pocket as an overwhelming urge had her look to her right. The pair were nothing immediately threatening, perhaps a couple enjoying breakfast before continuing on with their daily routine, but something about the male captured her attention.

"Hmm.." The most faint of grin befell those plum hued lips as she decided to break away from the line, venturing towards the couple threatening each other with flatware and confections. Yet, even as she moved her attentions were diverted momentarily toward a man holding a newspaper to which her entire disposition changed. A feral mask overtook those sweetly alluring features, twisting them into a baleful sneer... She'd made the headlines and with not to appealing a mug shot either.. She'd snatch the paper from the man and turn to leave, already her eyes scanning through the black and white.

Lunatic on the Loose!

PFC. Seiko Ishitomo is wanted in connection with the grizzly slaying of a soldier whose name has yet to be released. Federal Agents insist that if this individual is seen to immediately contact the police.

The article continued, describing Seiko as a danger, stapling the point with the disfigurement she'd caused the security guard just three days prior..He's reported to be in critical condition.

"HEY! gemme my paper back!" The voice traveled up behind her and she ignored it, shoveing through the line towards the exit, giving little care to whom she knocked into. Yet the man's voice insisted, and as she pushed through the line and cleared the exit a hand grasped firmly her right arm. As she was spun around, the man was greeted with the tip of a tactical knife on the outstretch of her arm. That knifes tip rested mere moments from the mans throat in warning, it taking everything she had not to plunge the damn thing hilt deep as she spit.. "Don't do this... Go back, finish your food and remember that every breath after this is a gift.." The two remained engaged in an unbreakable stare that ended when the man lifted his arms submissively and stepped back, watching the crazed woman walk away in rushed strides..

Daphne Fuller Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:31 pm

While Daphne Fuller may have planned her sabbatical last minute, she had not come unprepared. Relying on no one else but herself the little socialite could easily drop everything and disappear. What friends she had were insignificant and not that important to mention. They were the backdrops, an opportunity to pass the time with but nothing more. Growing up inside the walls of an orphanage had only cemented this point. Friends were an inconvenience, a weakness and a vulnerability. She could move within the integrate circles of society and play with the best of them but that’s all it was, an act—a game. One she excelled at. Unfortunately for the chestnut brunette, she had not shared one significant relationship with anyone. Whether that had been because of fear or just her natural personality had never come into question. She was a twenty-four, independent woman with her own apartment in the middle of the greatest city in the world. Yet fate seemed intent on guiding her when her own parents had been absent from her life. The violent image of her dream still haunted the very corners of her mind. Absentmindedly her injured hand would form a fist as if it knew the truth. She had never met the woman and her memory was sharper than any elephant’s. The images from the night before had been completely disregarded as reality in her mind, despite the evidence. Rationalizing that she must have forgotten something pertinent, Daphne brushed her worries aside.

Arriving in Los Angeles the night before, she had had the foresight to call the Four Seasons before her flight took off from JFK airport. Since this would be an extended vacation, it wasn’t her plan to live in the glamorous hotel. First on her agenda, Daphne would find a place to rent. Until then her intention was to relax and take it easy. It was obvious she needed to get away from the fast paced life she led back home. Even though she was traveling to another city, California was known for its laid-back tendencies and appetite for experience. It was just what she needed—leaving her routine and her memories behind. Her room was perfect with a perfect view of the terrace and the pool beyond it. The king size bed sat prominently in the room next door to the sitting room dressed in white and gold sheets. Styled with European designs, the vista could be reached through the sliding doors on her right. It didn’t take her long to settle herself in and fall right to sleep.

Today was the first day of her journey. She had woken up early that morning to get a head start. Not only did she need to find a permanent place to stay, Daphne also needed to find her salvation. Very few would believe that the petite princess would enjoy physical exertion outside the bedroom, but she enjoyed releasing her frustrations out on a punching bag. Quite literally speaking of course, she had been enrolled in kick boxing classes since high school. It was one of the few outlets she had, and eventually one of the instructors had quit unexpectedly and had asked her to take on a few of his classes. This wasn’t considered a job to her this was a hobby. One she pleasured in and enjoyed immensely. Since she was no longer in New York, she would have to find a new safe haven that would humor to her preferences. What better place to look than Sunset Blvd? That was her destination that fine morning. She was up, showered, and dressed in a cute, little, black romper. The one-piece cut across the curve of her chest and clung to it by an elastic band with no straps for support. The drawstring waist was tight and the shorts were snug around her upper thighs. Her large Burberry sunglasses were propped on her head, which revealed the medium sized white-gold hoops. With a pair of high-heeled sandals on she had gone native, and Daphne felt comfortable despite the lack of a tan. The flawless porcelain skin glowed under the lights of lobby. The beautiful arrangement of white lilies that was brought in fresh every day stood in the middle of the entrance. The day was serene as her heels clicked against the marble floors.

Her attention would be diverted though by the loud, piercing shout of a shrimp standing just a foot in front of her. The bellboy was severely censured by the man-boy hovering over him. Slowing her stride, the faintest hint of a smile touched the corners of her lips in her own reprimand, “Well aren’t we the spoiled little brat this morning…” Walking right past him with flawless grace she had managed to lean just slightly towards him. She may have run in higher circles, but Daphne would always feel her roots lied with those unfortunates. After all, she was cast from her own family without a second thought. Heading out the doors, the doorman opened the door of the taxi waiting in the front. She slid inside and the door closed. The blvd wasn’t that far away, but it wouldn’t matter in the end. Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up to the corner of Sunset and North Fairfax. Paying the man and leaving him a tip she got out and surveyed the busy streets. A line wound around the block leading to what seemed to be an eatery. She wasn’t here to eat though, where there was a busy street, there usually were gyms—especially in a place like California. Walking parallel to the line she remained outwardly oblivious and yet fully alert to her surroundings. While the quartz crystal weighed practically nothing, Daphne subconsciously felt its weight in the bottom of her bag. From some reason she didn’t go anywhere without it.

The line was bustling with noise as patrons waited eagerly to enter the establishment and grab a table. Yet one particularly sugary, sweet voice stood out from all the others, as they were about to exit. From the corner of her eye, her olive hues shielded by her sunglasses, Daphne could see an Asian girl of about average height prod something towards the man that had accosted her. Raising a brow, the moment of attention was fleeting and her curiosity diminished. In front of her stood a line of tables completely filled, no seat was empty. Brushing aside a stray lock of her wavy hair, she had asked the front desk where she could find the nearest gym the night she arrived, which was only a block or so more away.

(Daphne continues to here.)

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:32 pm

Stepping outside of the luxurious Four Seasons, Riley gave a polite smile to the doorman who stood to greet him. As one taxi pulled off into the street, another crept into its place for the boys own use. The back door was opened for him, and with a, “thank you,” the blond slid right in. Giving the cab driver his destination – The Griddle Café, as recommended by a hotel employee earlier – he pulled his cell from his cardigan pocket and began to fiddle with it, scrolling through a list of tasks and reminders. He had plenty of things that could keep him occupied in Los Angeles – the town was certainly not lacking activities for its occupants. On the flight over to L.A., Riley had drawn up a few places that he would be looking for as soon as he had a chance: he needed a dance studio, a new yoga instructor, and a coffee spot that wasn’t packed with freaks.

Back at home in New York, the youngest Cameron had all of these things. Now that he was in Los Angeles, he would have to start fresh. As his cab came to a stop in traffic, Riley looked up from his phone and at his surroundings. The seats were somewhat withered, at least by his tastes, and had little tears beginning to form from where so many passengers had thrown their luggage without caring. There was a stain on the back of the shotgun seat, colored a deep red from a wine-spill, though from the way it was crusting over it allowed one’s mind to wonder about its true nature. With a sudden cough, the blond found himself inhaling a strong vanilla scent that had drifted in from the little pine tree dangling on the rear-view mirror. The smell took him back to a time where he wasn’t as lost as to what was happening with his life.

He was eight and running – sure, he was fast for his age and size, but he still wasn’t fast enough to outrun his older brother Alex. The brunet was two years his senior, taller, and sported little bumps in his arms he thought were strong, developed muscles. Towering over Riley wasn’t his only accomplishment, and as he tackled the eight-year-old, he knew it. Sneering, Alex straddled his younger brother, holding his arms down so that Riley wouldn’t be able to escape. “Where’d you put my basketball?!”

“I told you I didn’t have touch it! Let go of me or I’m telling Ruby!” Truth be told, Riley had in fact hid his older brother’s toy. He could only take his head being hit like the backboard of a goal so many times, so in order to get his revenge he had stolen the ball and tucked it safely away in the back of William’s closet. Alexander had been in the bathroom at the time, and with William downstairs busy with his piano lessons, Riley thought he would’ve been safe. An hour later had Alex screaming Riley’s name, a loud thumping being heard as the boy thundered towards his younger brother’s room for the culprit.

“Stop whining, punk! Just tell me where you put it, I need it!” Removing one of the grips he had on the younger boy’s arms, he balled his fist up and pounded it into the blond’s shoulder, laughing as he did.

“Is this your ball, Alex?” Emerging from his bedroom, William held the orange object in one hand, outstretched for the boy to grab a hold of it. Taking his chance to escape while Alex was distracted, Riley scurried out from underneath him and ran towards the bathroom, trying to hastily shut the door before he could be tackled again. Unfortunately, as he was closing the door, it was slammed into by the opposing brunet, and the blond went flying back into the shelves that held all of his father’s cologne. On contact, the shelf and Riley both went down, bottles dropping and bursting as they hit the ground. Their contents seeped out at an alarming rate, the scent of vanilla becoming overbearing as it soaked the poor blond.

A car horn brought Riley back from his flashback, along with a, “we’re here, son,” from the cab driver. Drawing a few bills from his wallet, he’d hand them over to the man and nod his thanks. With a last glimpse of the cab – and catching sight of the small, dilapidated photo of two little children in the dashboard – Riley gave a, “keep the change,” before opening his car door and exiting onto Sunset Blvd. The street didn’t seem any busier than Riley would have thought it’d be, though he was surprised to find that there was such a long line for the café that he had been told to visit. Without a second though, he stepped in line, finding himself behind a young woman about his age with shining black hair. She was petite, and the blond found her to be pretty – though he couldn’t say much for the clothes she was wearing. With Carolina wearing a teal top over a yellow one, Riley admired her bravery; it wasn’t awful, it just wasn’t what he preferred.

“I don’t suppose you know how long the wait is?” Sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts, he patiently waited for the girl to answer his question. “I’ve nothing better to do, but I am rather starved.” It was true, though not in the sense that he was actually starving himself – which one might believe due to the popular belief that models do not eat. “Oh, and I’m terribly sorry; my name’s Riley, Riley Cameron. I should have introduced myself first.”

Carolina Kenyon Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:34 pm

Carolina reveled in the fact that she wasn’t wearing a heavy coat, or a scarf, though she did miss wearing scarves. She frowned and decided she’d start wearing them regardless. The coat might be a bit much, but surely a light scarf would be okay. Her hands sank into her pockets, a habit from trying to shield them from the cold. She found she missed gloves as well, the warm wool around her fingers, colorful mittens of bright pink, orange, and red and dark blues and purples. Her blue eyes scanned the line in front of her and she stepped up on tip toes to see the rest of the line, but her attempts proved futile, as she just wasn’t that tall.

She occupied her time with watching the people around her, the ones who passed, and the tourists that stopped to see what the line was for. Carolina loved to people watch, making up stories for the people around her in her head. Her lips pressed together as she looked at one lady in particular, who had ripped the paper out of a man’s hands. Her mind was already racing with the possibilities. She was gorgeous and had a sort of deadly air around her. Carolina wasn’t sure what to make of her really. Perhaps she should try an easier person. But Carolina had never been a quitter. Maybe she was an agent undercover for the government and she had seen one of her secrets leaked on the front page?! Or maybe somewhere in the headline was a hidden code? What could the code be?

She was vaguely aware that someone had stepped in line behind her. And now she wasn’t the last, nor the first, but rather somewhere in the middle and she found it odd that one moment she was indeed last and wasn’t life funny that way? Always changing places. Her attention was drawn away from the beautiful woman and to the voice behind her. It was a nice voice, she decided and so she turned around.

She liked that he was only slightly taller than her. At 5’4” she always felt as if she were looking up, and while that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it was a change to just look into someone’s eyes instead of their chin, neck, or chest. His hair was nice too, but she thought she’d look awful as a blond. As his question registered, she gave a shake of her head, braids brushing against her neck.

“No, not really.” she said, “I suppose the wait’ll be as long as it takes to get to the front of line.” A smile curved her lips as he introduced himself and seemed to brighten as he said his name was Riley, Riley Cameron as if he were quoting James Bond. Maybe he was an actor, he was certainly attractive enough. Then, it would seem, a lot of people in L.A. were.

“It’s alright! I’m Carolina Kenyon.” her right hand was removed from her pocket, bracelets sliding down her arm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! Have you eaten here before? I have to admit, I’m kind of new here,” she gave a small laugh. “so I don’t really know any real good places for, well, anything.”

Ofelia Doncella Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:34 pm

Sunday
Ofelia’s apartment to Sunset Blvd.

Mornings were never eventful. Most of them were spent sitting by the window and watching the people on the street. This was an exceptionally slow day. She didn’t have to go to the library or teach any classes. The house was clean. It was probably going to be a lazy day of lounging about the house. Ofelia hated those days. Having nothing to do left her with time to think. Thinking always caused her to remember things that were better left in the past. Little thoughts stirred up memories that had long ago been repressed.

After about an hour of watching the people from the window, she deiced to leave the house. The first step, was getting dressed. There were people who went out in their pajamas, but she didn’t think it was proper. Especially since her nightclothes were hot pink and covered with Hello Kitty. She glided to her closet and pulled out a pair of jeans. That made things easier. It meant she didn’t even have to think about matching. Jeans went with everything. So, she grabbed a shirt at random and got dressed. She tied her hair back into a ponytail and looked into the mirror. Now she could leave the house. Ironically, the random tee-shirt was also pink. Hello Kitty was still smiling on her chest. It made her giggle. Looks like the kitty is coming with me anyway.

With no destination in mind, she set out on the streets. It was a warm day, perfect for a lazy walk around the city. Even though she had been around this area dozens of times, she still wandered with her eyes wide in amazement. There was always something new to discover; always something she had missed. Today her attention was caught by a mass of people. Ofelia stopped and stared, trying to figure out what they were doing. It took her a moment to register that she was looking at the line for some food place. She shrugged and placed herself at the end of the line. There had to be something interesting about this place. The person at the end of the line was male. She paused and looked around. No one seemed to be going towards in the line. She fidgeted for a moment, and fell into the line. She purposely left about a three feet between herself and the man. Maybe someone else would decide to step in and take that spot. Hopefully that someone would be a woman.

She dug a book out of her purse and began reading in silence. On the cover was the title Cien Años de Soledad. She had been reading the book for a while. There was only a paragraph or so left. Now seemed as good a time as any to finish it. The book was interesting, so she could always just turn back to the beginning and star over. Or she could read it backwards. That would be something new. Ofelia assumed that reading would keep her amused for a while. It did occupy her mind, but her body still craved activity. The fidgeting began. She shifted her weight between her feet and tapped her fingers against the back of the book.

Sure enough, it only took her a few moments to finish the book. The last sentence was oddly captivating. She read it a few times, silently fascinated. The book had told the story of a family. Instead of the happily ever after ending she had been looking for, the last end was miserable. It was to be expected; the book had been melancholic from the start. She read the line out loud as quietly as she could manage, “Porque las estirpes condenadas a cien años de soledad no tenían una segunda oportunidad sobre la tierra.” Ofelia blinked and tried it in English, “Because families condemned to one hundred years of solitude don’t have a second chance on Earth.” She frowned and stuffed the book back into her purse. That killed the urge to reread the book.

Ofelia peered around the boy in front her of her. The line hadn't moved. She turned her attention to the opposite side of the street. Her eyes would stick to random people. Even the lumbering and slow movements were intriguing. She found something fascinating about the movement of the human body. As interesting it was, it only held her attention for a few moments at a time. When she wasn't watching the people, she was peering around the boy to see what was happening in the line.

Penn Rutherford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:35 pm

Penn’s dark blue eyes followed the suspicious Asian woman regardless of Ava’s attempts to carry on a conversation. He hadn’t observed the information on the paper, but he could sense the dire behavior of the woman. When she drew the knife on him, he stood without hesitation. He would have recognized Seiko if he had been working the night of her escape, coincidentally he was called in to help deal with the aftermath of her wraith. If he had been more curious he would have made the connection, he would have known whom he was facing.

The relatively faded white henley short sleeve top stretched to the construct of his frame and tugged tightly around his arm muscles, baring most of his inked skin. He realized Ava had the same paper rolled up and resting in her purse on the third chair at their table. He reached for it and supported it in his lap. The dusty texture covered his fingertips as he flipped through the newsprint looking for an alarming article. He quickly realized the collection only consisted of classifieds?

“Where’s the real news?” He spoke in a demanding tone as if angered by a salacious secret out of reach.

“I don’t read that trash, it corrupts your soul.” Ava answered licking her lips from the last sip of her coffee.

Penn arose from the table reaching for his wallet and tossing two twenties on the table. “I need to get out of here.” He felt some remorse for ditching her and he didn’t have the finances to be so careless with his money, but he wasn’t willing to wait for the check to arrive. Ava crossed her left leg over the other and eyed around to the crowd and noticed a young man and a girl in line. “Hey!” she yelled to Riley and Carolina. They seemed the most put out by the wait and she wasn’t above pissing off a few other people in line. She waved them down as Penn took off tracking the hostile woman. He grabbed the victim’s paper on his way around the corner of the building. “You guys are late!” Ava beckoned pretending they had a previous relationship as to not bring the full wraith of the line upon her.

Michael Hawthorne Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:40 pm

Errands
Sunset Blvd, 12:52pm

Afternoons like these are often taken for granted. The soothing breeze that trickled through the corners and cracks, while the bland colored clouds dotted the crystal blue skies. The city streets were bustling, fashionistas covering the lanes of the sidewalk with no care to the on goings of the world. While the regular people admired them from afar, and others up close, depending on the measure of each ones gaul. But one gentlemen of particular concern was the one seated outside of a local bookstore. Right? Who sits adjacent to bookstores anymore? It only added to the oddity that he was. Reclined on one of the available chairs in their outdoor seating area he was scribbling in a notebook. An activity he often found himself doing, it made him a bit of a reclusive soul at times. Choosing words and metaphors, over the company of people, most he failed in comparison to his intellect. Though there are the select few who manage to spark his interest from time to time.

"Whether it be the glorified distain of his self worth, he pawned his love for Helena with a bittersweet morale. Knowing that within the confines of his very being laid a monster. One whose existence, could shatter the fragile fabric of her world. Would he risk yet? Would he dare, in the name of love?"

Reading over his work, always brought him joy, and managed to keep his mind off of the stresses. Lifting his eyes from the notebook for a moment, the viper like glare in his eyes noticed a blonde. Shrugging his shoulders he allowed it to be processed as a temporary delightful thought, that would never materialize into anything fruitful. The skinny, blonder, and tanner, often breed vapid barrels of human organs. It was the same thing he tried to explain to one of his younger siblings, never to judge the beauty of an apple peal and expect the confines to be juicy and flavorful. Often times it is empty and disgusting. Going back to his writing he, would sustain his mind for a moment more.

"Leonardo would not risk the well being of his beloved, to obtain his own selfish desires...wait...no that just sounds stupid. Of course he would risk it, the moron is love sick over some streetwalker, who is deepsteated in her own stewing shit, to realize someone wants to change her life. She's to busy twirling nightly patrons, to notice his subtle, yet meaningful stride...break time."

Tired, of trying to decide which way his story should progress, he'd made up his mind to be more out going. Most people he'd known and knew spent time in some Griddle Cafe, not that he was wanting to jump at the doors to get inside. But he was starving, not to mention a bit through with the transparent rays of the sun beating down on his flesh. It only took moments for him to make an entrance inside the establishment. And that's when eyes befell what he promised would be a temporary thrill. Becoming aloof to the idea of it, he walked directly to the register.

"Table for one, please."

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:41 pm

Though at first Riley didn’t believe that he would be answered by the petite brunette, he was pleasantly surprised when the shorter girl responded to his question. Nodding in response, he gave a small shiver as a breeze picked up and blew past the two. Blond locks waved slightly in the wind before settling back down in place, and with a smile on his lips, he extended his hand towards the girl. Grasping her hand with his own soft one, he gave a little shake before pulling it back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carolina. I’ve been to Los Angeles twice before, but I just moved here. This place was recommended for me to eat at though; I hear the food is to die for.” Of course, the poor manager at the Four Seasons front desk could have been spitting out words in order to escape the wrath of the already angry Cameron boy, but right now the blond just had to trust that his word was good.

“Why did you move to L.A.? If you don’t mind my asking.” Keeping a small smile on his pale red lips, he pocketed his hands and awaited the girl’s response. He wasn’t trying to be nosy – he was, believe it or not, genuinely interested. The back story of his own move was one he had vowed not to tell anyone for fear they’d label him insane, so he had already decided that he’d be sticking with his story of moving for more work. It wasn’t a total lie, but it hadn’t been the real reason he had packed up and left, scared out of his mind. “I don’t suppose it was the promised hustle and bustle of the streets that lured you to this place. Granted, there’s certainly things present to keep someone busy, but I haven’t been here long enough to actually look around and find anywhere of particular interest.” Not including that occult bookstore, that is. It was at this moment that, in Riley’s eyes, an odd ginger-haired girl stepped into line behind him. He didn’t pay her much attention, but she seemed intent on not being too close to him. After a while, Riley caught sight of the girl’s lips moving, though he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Was she talking to herself – in public? Some people would never make sense to him.

Taking a look around the area, Riley felt as if he was being watched by someone. Perhaps he was only paranoid since the attack, but he soon found that he indeed was being eyed. The culprit sat alongside a bookstore across the street, eyes settled onto Riley even as he looked back. Blue eyes watched the stranger, and though he was staring back, he felt rather awkward. Was there something on his face? Surely the young lady in front of him would have said something. Hand rose upwards, and digits skimmed soft flesh, gently swiping as if to remove anything that might have made its way onto his features. No, there had been nothing there and there was nothing now. Shifting his weight onto his right leg, Riley took in the sight of the other. He wasn’t hideous; from what the blond could tell, the stranger was taller than he was, and looked quite charming – he was probably a pig. His concentration on the young man was broken as a taller, muscular man brushed past him and Carolina. The breeze created from the hurried man ran a chill up his spine, a strange feeling creeping its way into his bones.

“Hey! You guys are late!” A slightly older blonde waved at him from her table, and Riley took note of what she was doing. Giving a wave back, he grinned and called back.

“Sorry we’re late!” Offering a hand out to Carolina, he waited for her before breaking out from the line and walking to the table. First he pulled a chair out for Carolina, following suit for one himself. His eye caught sight of the stranger from across the street making his way to the café, and to not be seen looking, he turned his attention to Ava. “Thanks; that line was terribly long.”

Carolina Kenyon Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:42 pm

Carolina nodded, her hand released, she let it hang by her side. She was quite pleasantly surprised that he continued to talk to her, outside of her answering his question. It wasn’t that Carolina wasn’t a good conversationalist, but it always seemed to her that usually people wanted something, and once they got it, well they moved on to the next person who could give them whatever else they wanted. It was also nice to talk to someone that wasn’t family, or to anyone period.

Her eyes widened slightly and a small ‘wow’ emitted from her lips as he mentioned that he’d been here twice already. A world traveler then? Carolina had never been to any major city, outside of Bismarck of course. Her family just didn’t travel, and this was a whole new experience for her. For Riley, it seemed though, it was common place. Her attention was caught and lingered upon the red head who stepped up in line behind the blonde. She switched her gaze back to Riley, but she kept getting a little distracted by the girl peering around them.

“Uhmm..actually I saw it on an advertisement,” she gave a small shrug of her shoulders, “and it seemed like an interesting place to live. And I was looking for somewhere different.” Somewhere where echoes of her mother didn’t resound, and she could drown out the silence with the bustle of the city. And it was bustling. “And you? Did you miss it?” She tilted her head slightly in a questioning fashion. And yet, once again her attention drifted, and she hoped he didn’t think her rude, but she wasn’t used to so many new people around her. A whole city of possibilities, faces, and personalities. Her fingers itched for her paints, which were on their way, but not there yet. And where was the man going in such a hurry? Her mind jumped between different scenarios, but stilled and paused as a woman called out to them, before Riley could answer her question.

He spoke for the both of them when he apologized. A bit startled, she put her hand in his. She looked at the woman curiously as her seat was pulled out for her, and she sat. “Yes! Thanks a bunch! I wasn’t sure we’d get in before they closed.” she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, for the millionth time telling herself that she’d either start growing them out or get them cut a bit shorter. And knowing for the millionth and one that she’d probably do neither.

She looked back to the line, watching the people, and noticing that they were staring at them a bit skeptically and with a little envy. Carolina ducked her head and picked up the menu. “I don’t suppose your friend who recommended this place, also recommended how to pick what to eat, did they?” And it was hard, looking at all the different items. Her stomach rumbled quietly, reminding her since she hadn’t eaten since the night before.

Michael Hawthorne Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:44 pm

Michael, was extremely aware of his surroundings. Whatever the ill fated essence that drew him in here was, others were invited as well. Regardless of their gender, race, or chosen style of personal presentation, Michael, once escorted to his seat choose to observe them all silently. Not that he re-imagined himself as Dick Tracy, the fabled comic book gum shoe, but he was an artist, his medium words. And like any artist, observation was relevant to the progression of his form, partly, why he considered himself to be a master of this skill. Going over the menu, he was trying to decide on what it is he wanted, briefly relying on his peripheral vision to steal glances of this collective group. He was not a creeper, it was a casual glance at best. When the waitress approached him, he ordered calmy.

"Green tea, one scoop of sugar, and the curry grilled eggplant, with the cashew nut brown rice."

The young lady smiled and walked off, while his eyes were once again scanning the corners of the room. The young lady who appeared to be addressing herself struck him as slightly awkward, while he could not help but notice the blonde, noticing him. It would have been easy to say something, but Michael did not want to draw unwanted attention to himself. Opening up his notebook he went back to writing, the story he was working on earlier. Had his mind wandered any further, he'd feel like the spectacle of people gathering around him.

"If you all were to sit down, you might look a lot less awkward in a public place."

True to his nature, he never listened to his brain, which would have begged him to remain silent. But this group, and whatever their purpose was, just could not be ignored, so to address them in person was so much better.

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:45 pm

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got to get here a lot earlier if you want to avoid the crowd.” Finished with her coffee, Ava set the empty cup on the table and grabbed hold of the classifieds that Penn had left before snatching someone else’s newspaper on his hurry out. She rolled the papers back up neatly, stuffing them into purse before digging inside of it. “I’m Ava. Are you two new here?”

Riley pulled his chair closer to the table as Ava spoke, giving her a small nod before answering her question. “I’m Riley; it’s a pleasure to meet you. And relatively; I’ve visited before, but briefly. I just flew in this morning.” Grabbing up a menu, the blond skimmed through the choices offered, not sure of what to choose for breakfast. Taking in Carolina’s question, he took his bottom lip in between his teeth, lightly biting it as he tried to decide on what to eat. “Unfortunately, he didn’t. I think I’m going to go with scrambled eggs. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.” Truth be told, Riley was very picky when it came to eating – if he hadn’t been to a place before, he was very choosy when it came to what he devoured. Considering this was his first visit to the café, scrambled eggs seemed like the best, safest bet for breakfast. Releasing his lip from its confinement due to his decision being made, he folded the menu back up and replaced it in its spot across the table.

Looking to Carolina, he frowned a bit, debating on what to tell the girl in response to her earlier question. He had gotten a temporary reprieve whenever Ava had called the two over, but it was simply rude to continue to ignore her inquiry – and that wasn’t a way to start out a friendship. That could come later, if the girl turned out to be even stranger than her color choices for her clothing. “I moved here from New York, after graduating last year. I, uh, didn’t find home feeling like home anymore, so that’s why I moved. I wanted to branch out on my own instead of being somewhere so familiar, if that makes sense.” He didn’t want to come out and say that he was scared of staying in New York, where he had been haunted and visited by the Gentleman time and time again. He had returned to his penthouse in NY after graduation and while he hadn’t been attacked while he had stayed there prior to moving, he still didn’t feel safe staying there. He was constantly skittish; scared to be alone in his own home out of fear that one night the Shadowkind would show up and surprise him.

Ava let a small smile play on her lips. “Well, this is certainly the place to come if you want a fresh perspective. The streets are filled with interesting people.” Closing her purse, she pulled out two business cards – the mission of her search earlier. Sliding them in front of her two guests, she pointed at the name labeled at the top. “I don’t know if you two would be interested in this sort of thing, but The Sated Satyr is a bookstore over by Melrose. It’s got a New Age theme, and the internet’s free.” Ah, shameless promotion. It was beautiful.

Taking the card from the blonde, Riley studied the label carefully before looking up at Ava. “I was actually going to go there a bit later! You have books on demons, right?” He had spoken before he could catch himself, which happened to be a common trait of his. Quickly thinking of a way to cover himself so that he didn’t seem like a complete freak, he pocketed the business card. “I was really big on mythology when I was little, and my brother is too. I figured I’d look around and see if I could find something to send him as thanks for helping me pack up.” A total lie, but the other two didn’t know his family well enough to know they didn’t play much of a part in his life.

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of books on spirits and myths. What about you, miss?” Ava eyed Carolina, holding up her coffee cup for the waitress that had walked over to their table. Riley turned in his seat at this moment, catching sight of the male from earlier. The stranger spoke to them and the Cameron boy only blinked. Why was he addressing them – and more importantly, why had he been staring earlier?

“Would you like to join us? I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you did, rather than staring us down.” He wasn’t trying to be rude, but that may have been the way he came off. Riley didn’t care, honestly; he was attempting to be nice, but he hadn’t much luck when it came to extending the hospitality to other males. Women and children he could find it in his heart to be polite to, but men – and in particular, ones who locked eyes with you and then made their way to the same café – were a different story. Of course, if the stranger did join them, that would mean a table would open up for the next in line.

Michael Hawthorne Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:46 pm

Sharply, he turned to Riley, as if he were impressed that the young man had even addressed him. For a moment he thought, he would provide them all with another snide comment and be done with them. Instead he took the invitation, strangely enough all of these people around him, seemed to be magnetic to his person. Letting the blonde speak his peace, he grinned, not being as smooth as he would have wanted he admitted defeat. Though to have himself exposed in a crowd of people he'd never met before, was slightly shameful, he sucked up his pride. Making a grand gesture he stood and pulled chairs out, one for Riley, and the others. A true gentlemen knew when he'd been had, standing he approached the group and introduced himself.

"Us implies, I was astonished by the entire group, when if I recall, I was looking directly at you. But, my name is Michael Hawthorne, I kinda got drawn in here. The great view was just a plus."

Flashing another toothy grin, he took a moment to allow his forward charm to be absorbed. Granted he made this statement to both Riley and Carolina, so as to not give it all away at once. Which would have ruined a great mystery. Placing his hands back in his pockets he looked to them all pondering what other things could possibly fly out of their mouths. Large groups of people tend to be bold when in the company of others, he knew from experience, if being a big brother was a profession, Michael had it narrowed down.

Seiko Ishitomo Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:47 pm

The clicking of boot heels upon city sidewalk were muted by functional rubber soles. Newspaper twisted in a furious hand and knife clenching in the other as through pedestrians she dozed with wild abandon. Uncareing to those that turned and cursed her, unknowing to the danger that igniting that feral woman could lead.

A fugitive she may have been, but as one she did not act. Possibly drawing more attention then thwarting she moved in a purposeful gait. Unbeknownst to her, she was losing control of not only her mental stability but the dormant powers that be, dwelling just beneath the surface and threatening to burst forth upon whoever she next encountered.

Gavin Sterling Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:48 pm

AN ABANDONED MOVIE STUDIO,
SOMEWHERE NEAR SANTA MONICA BLVD

The condemned studio had its fair share of squatters over the last eight years, and the city had every intention of tearing the horrid thing down. The only roadblock was the financial affairs of the state. The California government’s poor economy was a blessing to the late Alison Abrams. She needed someplace dark to hide her rotting form during the day, and someplace secret to gather her vile army. The first few evenings she spent digging graves collecting skeletons and animating them. There were a few pit fiends at her disposal as well, but they were tasked to bring her shadowkind victims. They would be lured to the studio to be stripped of their flesh and added to the army. This afternoon only one offering was brought to her door. He was covered head to toe like a seasoned drifter, layers of matted fabric provided warmth on the streets at night. His scent beyond foul screamed something otherworldly and powerful enough to glen the dark mother’s interest.

The pit fiend dragged the man forward and tossed him into an opening surrounded by crates. Alison rounded the corner her eyes growing orange in the shadows of the large stock space. The shadowy stranger looked helplessly at the lich with fear and distaste. He could hear the pit fiend’s chuckles running down his spine. Alison towered forward and the vagabond came out on the offense throwing fists against her stony visage. He landed two in her jaw with ease, but her strong grip clasp around his neck. She yanked his body up to her height, examining the scars on his chin. He was more determined than ever and swung his legs up kicking both feet into her chest. The act launched himself out of her grip and into the demon. When both recovered he elbowed the cocky devil in the chin, and returned his focus back on the dead witch. He showed a prowess Alison almost admired kicking her shins and midsection.

Every punch seemed to do more damage to his knuckles and ankle than to the beast in front of him. Finally bothered by the disrespect she hurled her boney fist into his gut tossing the ragdoll body across the area into a pile of boxes. While down she continued to pummel the man into a bloody mess. On hands and knees he fought back the blood collecting in his throat while the she-devil punted his wiry form towards a dust covered window. His body along with shattered glass landed on the dumpster below. The drifters muscles strained as he rolled down onto the pavement out of the shadows grip. The sun provided a barrier and he could see the worrisome look in her eyes when she landed on the street below keeping to the dark. He used his elbows to pull himself further into the light out of reach. The hood of his jacket, fell from his face. Alison’s eyes widened further before she barked “Oh my! Gavin? If I knew it were you, I’d have tied you down before beating you.”

He spit blood in her direction still unable to rise above lying on his stomach. “Kinky bitch, I will end you!” he yelled fighting back the pain. Her chalky claws bore into the stone while she climbed up the side of the building back to the window. “We’ll see how tough you talk at sundown. Do me a favor and clean up, I like my men dirty but this is just revolting.”

Carolina Kenyon Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:49 pm

Carolina looked up from her menu at Ava’s question, giving a nod of her head. “Yep,” she said, “from just outside Bismarck. That’s in North Dakota.” As if they didn’t know, but it was certainly not as on the radar as L.A. or New York City. She assumed Riley mean New York City anyway, the way he said it made it sound like ‘the New York.’ She’d have loved to go there someday. Her mind wandered to the possibilities of what it might have been like to have moved there instead. But then again, there hadn’t been an advertisement for it.

She was drawn out of her musings by the offering of the business card, which she took gratefully, flipping it to check out the back, and then facing it forward again. At Riley’s comment, she turned curious. “Uhm well, actually if you had any books on uhm protection?” There was a questioning note in her tone, as if she were unsure of what the exact word for what she wanted would be. “I’ve just got my own place, and a little extra help couldn’t hurt.” To be honest, Carolina actually felt uncomfortable staying all alone, she’d never experienced it before, and it didn’t feel safe. But that wasn’t of course why she asked. Perhaps the store would have something about what had happened to her.

Ava had looked a bit thoughtful at first, before her face cleared and she nodded. “Of course, a ton actually. You’d be surprised how many people subscribe to salt circles and charms.” Carolina felt a bit of hope at that and it showed in the way she sat up straighter and flicked her braids behind her shoulders. “I think I’m going to have the pancakes” she announced. She turned to look at the person who Riley was speaking to and smiled as he made his way toward them and introduced himself.

“Carolina Kenyon,” she said in way of introduction. She noticed he liked to put his hands in his pockets too. “Are you from up north?” she asked.

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:50 pm

In all honesty, the blonde hadn’t expected Carolina to answer the question in a way that made her seem more than interested. The brunette was being cautious with his words, perhaps just as he had been – was she also nervous to inquire about the store, in case someone else viewed her differently? That’s how it felt to Riley. Not wanting to make a bad first impression on anyone, he generally kept away from the potentially embarrassing conversations that might happen. Talk about a supernatural store and actually showing interest in it could have been viewed as a taboo in some circles, especially the ones that Riley usually ran with. When he had spoken of his intent to buy his brother a book as a gift, the boy hoped that would cover him. Carolina was more upfront with her question, and to the blond, that showed that she had more guts than he did. She was quickly becoming someone who wasn’t as generic as the people from back home. Los Angeles was a very different place.

Ava glanced between the two strangers she had invited to her table, watching them both with a curious intent. When she had called them over, the two had been engaged in a conversation, causing the blonde woman to believe that they knew each other. This was proving to be the opposite; while they knew little things about the other, it seemed that they had just met, and were still feeling the air for how open they could be. They were both careful with choosing their words in response to her advertisement, but that wasn’t anything new for her to witness. Usually when she told others that she worked at an occult shop, they either freaked out and threw Jesus’ word at her, pretended to be interested until they could change the subject, or showed up the next day. She was used to the treatment, but seeing that the two were actually inquiring had her smiling. “We have plenty of books on myths and protection. Luckily we don’t get too many strange visitors, but every now and then one will show up. My mother usually deals with them, though.”

The taller man that had been staring at him earlier had Riley’s eyebrow raised. The blond hadn’t particularly minded being stared at – he was used to all of the attention, of course – but he had simply been minding his own business in line, and now at his table, when he felt those eyes on him. Couldn’t he escape to a new city without being harassed the first day? How vain he was. At least Michael had admitted that it was Riley he was looking at; most denied it when he confronted them so openly about it. “I’m Riley Cameron.” He didn’t say much, and instead focused on the rest of the male’s speech. The great view? Shrugging it off as him addressing Carolina, who was now questioning the Hawthorne about where he was from, he turned his attention back to Ava.

“Will you be working later this evening? I want to look up a few things about phantasms, or poltergeists.” At least he was being truthful. The thoughts of the Gentleman Pym still haunted him; it was as if the attack from the Shadowkind was playing on a loop in his head. He couldn’t escape from the feelings that had washed over him that night – couldn’t expel the horror from his brain. If the store lived up to the description it had, then maybe Riley would be able to find out what really happened on his graduation night. Until he got some answers, he feared that he’d never rid himself of the memory.

“Well, they aren’t real.. Some may believe in them, but I think it’s all nonsense.” Even though Ava worked at the store, that didn’t mean she had to believe in the crap that her business ran off of. This response caused Riley to blush, a light red tinting his cheeks, the answer having caught the New Yorker off-guard.

“Of course. I’d just like to have something to read, that’s all. Ghosts were my favorite monsters when I was younger.” He could only pray he didn’t sound like the idiot he felt like – or that he hadn’t just embarrassed himself further in front of his new friend and Michael.

Plotline Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:51 pm

THREE : FIFTY-SIX PM
L O S A N G E L E S

Droplets of rain began falling in a furious way, most patrons of the breakfast hotspot rushed under canopies or inside the restaurant itself. By this time the customers were being turned away as the kitchen prepared to close for the day. The endless line of hungry people was few; those that held out false hopes dodged the watery assault and took off along the sidewalks towards shelter. With mudslides and odd lightning storms the past few days it should have been expected. If not for the treacherous sunshine earlier that morning maybe there would have been more people wielding umbrellas.

Michael Hawthorne Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:52 pm

The rain began to fall, catching his attention for a moment. Turning his head only for a split second he acknowledged the falling down pour. Grumbling for a moment her turned back to Mr. Cameron and nodded, looking from the group of them, to the empty seats he had offered them. Closing the notebook he had been writing in, he tilted his head some sighing, Carolina's question had not gone unheard. Shaking his head, he offered her a bit of a smile.

"Kinda, but North West, not North East, like most assume. I'm from the wet city of Seattle, Washington."

Grinning he turned to Riley, who at this point needed a shovel, to dig himself a deeper hole. Michael was not going to say anything, but he was sure that Riley was aware of his own mistake, which was enough for him. Easing back into his chair, he glanced down at his phone, his entire expression changing for a split second. Looking from the text message to the clock on the wall he contemplated what his next move would be.

Penn Rutherford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:52 pm

With a swift jerk of his arm he folded the flimsy newsprint and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans. While the storm arose he kept to the buildings attempting to keep dry under the awnings. Penn was a little anxious about how long he could maintain a trail on the escapee. He placed a call to the institution and slowed his steps while the phone rang. Abruptly his feet rooted him at the entrance of an apartment garage, the driveway intercepted with the walkway and the asinine driver behind the wheel barreled out without any consideration for the pedestrian right-of-way. Penn flicked the driver off as he passed and yelled a few hotheaded responses. It took him some self-control not to punch out one of the guy’s windows while the driver waited for an opening on the road to make a left turn.

Someone finally picked up on the line and Penn reported the sighting along with which direction she was heading. As soon as the vehicle was out of his way his eyes caught her blurry form. With the assurance that the facility was sending a team and alerting the police he didn’t see any reason to continue following her. It’s not like he could provide her with any help anyway. He was a desk guy, and after last nights hiking incident maybe it wasn’t such a good idea getting too close to delusional people. If that night hadn’t felt so real, he’d blame the whole thing on his volunteer work. That maybe he was going insane just being in the company of those who are. A few seconds after the cell registered the end of the call a new text message appeared on the screen.

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