Los Angeles: Blood Moon - ❌🌙🟩ch10-elegia

Chapter 10 Location: On the street, LA suburbs, Terence Bridge Players: Billy @Billy O’Riley (Ash) ST: @Slinar [Alexander Montferrier] Previous scenes: #❌🍕🟩ch10-another-round-another-round (edited)

MOOD MUSIC: https://youtu.be/3LY3ftiLqmE

unwariesthail

New Order - Elegia [Full Version]

Billy was walking back home, once again. The night was calm, with some cars passing by sometimes. A gentle breeze blew on her, as she felt a pleasurable shivers in her back. It was one of those night, the one delicious to run and forget, to just be herself at once, and don't look at what has happened, what will be. As she was walking, she slowly approached Terence bridge, a red bricks bridge passing on the Los Angeles River. She could also see a silhouette on the side of the bridge, standing on the hedge of it, looking at the river and the moon reflecting on it.

Billy paused, looking to the silhouette at the edge of the bridge. A nice picture in the peaceful quiet of the night. Just across the bridge, her favorite run acted as a backdrop. After, she could call the cab to Alister’s place. She wore a grey sweat shirt tonight, hood pulled up to ward off the cold. The woman pulled her camera from her duffle back, toggling off the flash for just a moment to take the photo of the bridge. She paused as she looked from the ground level after taking the first photo. No, this wouldn’t do. The woman glanced around, spotting a fire escape and a ledge to climb up to a roof that would give her the perfect angle. With a catlike balance, the woman ascended the the fire escape to the low rooftop and readjusted her camera, looking to find the subject yet again in the night.

As Billy rose up to take picture of the mysterious figure, she could see that it was clearly someone in contemplation of what lied beneath. Death, oblivion, the void. And yet, was those kind of stuff really meaningfull in this world? After what she discovered recently ? She could see from where she was more details. It was visibly a man, bald, looking at the ground. He wore a trenchcoat, and seemed to be unware of his surroundings. But yet, she couldn't shake this feeling that he wanted to jump. In one of his hand, there seemed to be a cardboard to put drawings.

@Billy O’Riley (Ash)

It was only upon taking the picture did she realize the gravity of what she was witnessing. In heartbeat, she had shoved her camera into her duffle bag rather than taking the time to properly stow it in protective coverings. That didn’t matter, not now. As meaningless as life was, to end in misery was a certain waste, something she wouldn’t stand for. The woman atop the roof began sprinting across the roof to get to closest edge to where a light pole was. Her impulse was to get his attention, so she drew her fingers to her mouth and with all the air in her lungs, released a shrill whistle before shouting from atop the roof, “Oi!” He feet didn’t stop. They couldn’t stop, and she was running out of roof space, but she could not turn back. The only thing that would between her and concrete was two stories of open air and a street lamp. Such a stunt would be seen in movies alone. To most, it would look like the woman was about to make a mistake. To Billy, she was about to make a statement by taking the fastest rout to this man.

Watching the woman, you would swear she was a gymnast, or had grown a secret invisible pair of wings. There was a knowing precision to the movement, as if she had done it hundreds of times before, a fanatical focus in her gaze. An electric zeal radiated from her. The world looked to slow as the woman sprinted toward the ledge… and leapt. With the moon at her back and nothing but empty air around her, the momentum pulled her hood back as her wild red hair danced in her wake. In a moment where time stood still the silhouetted, moonlit Valerie descending upon the urban landscape. It was a distinct and vibrant scene for the still of the night, one that would not be forgotten…that couldn’t be forgotten. A woman that dared to fly with a red halo silhouetted by the sky. Then the world snapped back to a rapid pace as gravity took it’s place. She plummeted, arms out to either side, but she didn’t fail. She made it look effortless, not even shaking the lamp as her hands found purchase on the metal. She allowed her momentum to carry her in a loop, moving from the portion parallel to the te ground to the pole itself. A full awareness of her body and duffel bag meant she maneuvered with a practiced grace. Her legs swept outward before tucking beneath her as she spun, utilizing the excessive momentum to stack on the vertical as her body went from being vertical to horizontal to the world. She looked to defy gravity, as if someone had took a woman perching on a the pole and flipped it 90 degrees. As the last of the momentum was safely dissipated with the spin, the force keeping her aloft on the pole waned, but not before she reoriented herself and kicked off the pole into a dive. The successive movements were clean and fluid, not a beat of hesitation. As she leapt out, one hand tugged along the duffel bag to readjust it, and upon making contact with the ground, she rolled to disperse the force into the ground rather than her body. It was almost perfect…

13:25

When she came out of the roll, she was running, still able to stay on her feet… but she swerved slightly, her balance barely off, she wasn’t in a dead sprint anymore, but she was still running… running straight for the man on the bridge. Now that she was closer, there was a very obvious expression on her face and it was soft concern, but a roiling outrage, as if she had taken personal offense to his silent contemplation. Her eyes were locked and she wasn’t stopping.

@Slinar [Alexander Montferrier]

MOOD MUSIC https://youtu.be/kjU_cn0MqT4

Archive - Topic

Taste of Blood

15:08

The man standing near the bridge looked at her, dumbfounded. He was more and more concerned by her, as she landed almost perfectly. Fear ran across his face, a profund realisation of what was happening. His mouth opened up, as he let out a silent scream. She could see him searching in his jacket, but it was all to blurry, as a shot resonnated in the night. One. She could feel the burning sensation in her shoulder, as a flash from the weapon blinded her in the reality. He was killing her. The injustice was total, and yet she saw his face, as pure panic was going through him. Two. The other shot got lost in the dark.

Gunfire. A familiar sensation of a searing pain tore through her left shoulder as the sound of flesh giving way to the bullet resonated as it tore a hole through her person. Most would go reeling, if not drop due to the pain, but not Billy. She let out an involuntary cry as her own blood sprayed across her form, the metallic smell of her own blood greeted her, as he shoulder jerked back and she kept running forward. She cried out in violent anger, “YOU FUCKER” In a moment, she was upon him. With her right hand she pulled out a knife, and in an act of force of Will, took a swipe that could have killed him… if she wasn’t purely aiming to send the weapon over the bridge. In an instant the gun had sailed over the side of the railing. She was upon him and an infuriated indignant look was upon her as the knife was swapped to a backward grip for parrying, and allowed her to point at him with her index finger. She pivoted out of reach of the man. She was yelling, scolding the man, the adrenaline numbing the pain, “You see this? This feelin’ that would have ya kill me ? None o’ this wants over tha’ feckin’ railin’! Don’t ya ever feckin’ ferget it, ya hear?” She held the blade at the ready and let her words sink in and then the screaming pain came back to her shoulder. She was huffing, grimacing in pain, nearly growling before she spat, “An’ if ya don’t even care fer yer life then ya sure as feck shouldn’t be takin’ someone else’s!” She stood, all 5 foot of an injured, snarling woman who may have just saved the man’s life by making him think she might have taken it. No wings. No unimaginable beauty. Just a small woman with a knife, red hair, and killer attitude.

The man looked at her. He was tall, almost six fee, but crooked on himself. He has straigthened up, and was visibly in nearly panick one moment ago, but he looked at her at this moment with a ferocious, almost delusionnal expression. "Who the fuck are you? Why are you here? You're no... You're... What..." He began to laugh nervously, as he sat on the ground, hiding his face in his hand, as he laughed more and more.

The small woman stood her ground as she watched the man, the adrenaline running its course as she breathed heavily, she let out a little noise of pain, glancing to her shoulder, her grey sweater now staining a deep red. She cussed to herself , swapping her weapon to her injured arm and using her hand to apply pressure to her would. She snarled, “I’m a woman on her way home from work t’ see ya ‘bout t’ jump off a bridge!” Her voice dropped to a grumble, “Crap… now I have t’ go t’ the hospital. “

The man looked at her, with pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, sis. No need to worry though, all is fine." All the annoyance, the angst seemed to dull, as he approached her, a saddened look on his face. "I... I wasn't going to jump... Well, die jumping. I'm just lost you know? I... I'm afraid I'm never going to find my place, and yet, here you were. Trully a sign." "Sit with me, your... Blood stuff will be gone soon. I'll take care of that. I want to talk, and who better than an angry scottish woman?"

She wasn’t annoyed anymore, just wary and worried. Despite not being annoyed, her default was still to quip, as it always was. “What are ya, a doctor? Can ya give me stitches n’ antiseptic shite?“ she asked, partially serious. The woman looks to real for a moment at this last statement and squint at him “A therapist. “ she stated bluntly.

"I'll give you a magic potion." He smirked, before sitting on the edge again, his legs hanging in the void.

She let her mouth hand open in disbelief as she took a good look at the man. It was only now she thought to look closer, her annoyance no longer clouding her judgement.

There was a moment where it clicked. She gave a quick glance around, realizing the lack of wood and the isolation. The wary look persisted as she said, “I’m already taken, sorry.” She let go of her shoulder and fished out her new flip phone in her front pocket with the other hand. No way she could get to the light and hair spray now. “We can have that chat from ‘ere. What’s yer name?” She asked

@Slinar [Alexander Montferrier]

"It’s non relevant. You’re saying you’re… taken. How that ?"

10:17

The man looked at her with a curious look, before tapping on the concrete on his side.

The woman grit her teeth and sucked in air in pain. She could feel the moment she let go of her wound, the warmth of her blood spilling from the wound. Her right hand was made sticky with her blood as she flipped her phone open. So much for a nice new phone. Wary, injured, she replied “Okay Mr. Non-Relevant, my boss is of yer ilk. As much as I’m glad yer not yeetin’ yerself off the ledge, Im not exactly in the shape to sit down n’ chat. “ she said as finished dialing Volg and pressed the phone to her ear, not taking her eyes off the kindred. She heard the phone dialing as she held it to her ear, unable to stop the strain and occasional pained noise from eeking out of her

"Do you need something? You're breathing kind of hard"

“Aye boss, there’s been an accident o’ sorts at the Terence Bridge.” She paused with a grunt of pain “Got an extra hole in me. One o’ yer kind is ‘ere, bein’ friendly enough, ” She rapidly relayed

There's a moment's silence "I'll come pick you up, if that one of my kind is involved in the making of the extra hole start your next sentence with 'Well', I'll turn him inside out when I get there, if not say anything else. The car's a 1982 Buick Riviera Convertible, I'm sure you've seen it, I'd be shocked if there's many of those riding around you'll know it's me. Any specific landmarks I should look for you at, or are you on the actual bridge?" (edited)

"..." The vampire looked at her, rising up. "I thought you were someone that could be trusted, but here you are, bringing him to the table, gathering more and more ennemies around me." A twitch in his eyes deformed his face, as he looked at her trhough his sunglasses. "I CAN'T HAVE ONE NIGHT OF REST. DOES MY CURSE IS ETERNAL ?" He was screaming in the void, head facing the sky. "I... I can't try to run. I need to find him..." Tears of blood began to run from beneath the sunglasses. He looked around, panicked, before looking straight at Billy. One finger extended toward her, the nail was painted in black. "Tell him that's tonight is not the night, and I grow stronger each moment away. And he shall see the glorious sun once more because of me." Pure defiance, rage, anger, fear, all those emotions seaped from him. He raised his arms in a cross position, before letting himself fall in the water.

1

The woman listened on the phone while watching the Malkavian ramble, growing more concerned. They replied to Volg, “Technically th-Hey HEY thud” She reflexively dropped the phone and lunges forward, nearly diving after him, enough to grab a fistful of clothing. The woman snarled in pain as she shouted, “Im tryin’ t’ help!” she had a good grip with one hand, but as she moved the other to hold on her shoulder stung and she let out a pained yelp. She was too small, and couldn’t hold the weight of the full man as he tipped backward… but she made him work for it. She made him struggle, to consciously choose to fight the last chance she gave him. Then he plummeted. The woman was left, half dangling over the ledge with arms outstretched, a look of horror on her face as the cloth left her grip. She fell silent, panting as she stayed in place, eyes wide, jaw slack. She could not look away.

From 0 to 100 Volgs tone switched from casual conversation to fight or flight "Billy? Talk to me, what's happening" The words came urging, almost demanding a response as soon as possible

The man felt. Suspended in time for a moment, a serein look on his face. Then the water took him whole.

The woman watched as the man disappeared below the water and remained there, stunned. She didn’t register what was happening, not even that her own blood had trickled down her left arm or that she had made the bleeding worse by the sudden harsh movement. It took a moment before clouded sound in her mind dissipated enough for her to register someone shouting her name from the floor beside her. To Volg, he would have dead silence for twenty seconds. The woman turned and picked up her phone off the ground, her voice hollow and despondent, “He jumped… I couldn’t stop ‘em, he jumped off the bridge.”

A sound that can be interpreted as a snarl, sigh of relief or any number of things comes from the other end of the phone "Don't fucking leave me hanging over something so stupid Billy, he's a god damn vampire, he'll be fine." (edited)

11:01

After a moment of silence as he regains his composure his voice returns "Were it that easy to take out a Kindred the hunters would have a much easier job, unless the wound is supernatural or fire/sun based it can be mended. I've seen Kindred regrow whole limbs over time, unless you can see the puddle he made if he landed on the bridge he's fine, especially if he fell into the water." (edited)

Billy let out a hollow, “Aye, sir”. Her blood now dripping onto her shoes, though she still didn’t notice.

Sensing the tone of her voice the Gangrel sighs "Just stay put, I'll pick you up. And I'm telling you, he's fine, that may be to our detriment more than anything of course. Remember how I took several shotgun blasts to the head and there's not a scratch on me? We're sturdy. Even if he did jump off knowing that would be the end of him, he died long ago, Billy, we all did, he's a corpse thrashing around playing pretend at life. Some cling to this existence, but plenty more do not have a reason to deny the reaper's call, it's the only "normal" thing any of us can do anymore. We are faced with only two options, to be a monster or to not be at all."

Billy sniffled blinking a bit and shaking head, raising a hand to run her face just to smear it with her blood. That was enough to shock her back to attention, “Crap” she muttered under her breath. “Aye, kinda still bleeding here. Spare me the poetics, I’ll get over it, just wasn’t expectin’ to be shot and creeped at before someone tossed themselves off a bridge between my feckin’ fingers.” She grunted as she shrugged off her duffle bag and with bloody hands, began to pull a small medicine kit to possibly patch herself up. Yup, she was back.

The sounds of a car engine starting up can be heard over the phone, soon followed by the the familiar eastern european accent, back to being more composed, and almost coy. "I hear a therapist has visited the bar recently, take that up with him, I'm sure he'll be thrilled. Anyway, I'm on my way, don't bleed out on me I swear to whatever Highland Pagan Totem your ancestors prayed to." The good mood is quiclky dissipated, as some rough grumbling can be heard under the breath before he hangs up should there be no more conversation to be had "Spare you the poetics when you spare me the fucking heart attack" (edited)

It wasn’t a pretty scene. All she had were some tweezers, a lighter, some gauze and a bunch of smaller medical equipment that served her no purpose at this moment. Despite this, she made due effectively. Heating the tweezers just enough and using her camera as a way to pluck out two bullet fragments that still stuck in her flesh. Then, by ripping the already blood soaked Sweater to ribbons and spraying them with a wound disinfectant, clotted both ends of the bullet hole as it went right through her. By the end of it all, she had 1/4 of a sweater’s worth of blood soaked cloth in a pile, a strangely effective wrapping around her shoulder, hands bloodier than she’d wished, and a wound that had stopped bleeding. She sighed, looking at the mess the made and pulled one of the remaining unsullied strips of sweatshirt and drenched it in what was left of the water in her water bottle, before beginning to wipe the blood off her person, starting with her hands and face, then moving to her arm. It wasn’t the best job, but she no longer looked like she was straight out of a horror movie. Just a horrible knock off zombie flick or the like.

Billy sighed and looked to her phone as she wiped the last of the blood off of it. She flicked it open and dialed a dear friend she was staying with, Alister, or rather the bar, “Oi, hey bud, emmm , could ya tell Alister that Billy will be late comin’ back tonight? If he asks, I’ll be fine.” @PainedGemini| Loki

After a few moments of the phone ringing, it finally picked up. The voice sounded like the floor manager, before he had greeted her, he heard her request, he responded, “Will do, you got a time when you’ll be over?” The background was quiet, allowing his voice to be clear, it clearly was not very busy that night at the bar once again. He was not inquiring further as he figured that Alister would talk to her later if he felt there was something wrong, it was not his place to meddle into someone else’s business. Whatever was going on, he wanted to keep that between her and Alister. ( @Billy O’Riley (Ash) )

“Nay, but I’ll call when I get a bet’er idea” she replied, waiting for her ride

“Course, I’ll tell him. Anything else you need before I hang up?”

@PainedGemini| Loki - jump “Nay, thanks bud.” She replied with a tired sigh

“You got it.” He said before the line went dead when he hung up.

@Andante [Volg] you can arrive

Some time later the familiar car pulls up to the bridge, and a familiar, hard to miss, figure comes out of it, looking around for his bleeding Scottish liability

14:52

(Still busy today so can't be super verbose, you'll have to excuse me)

Walking over win a partially blood soaked undershirt that was no longer white water Billy, worse for ware, but alive and somewhat clean. She looked emotionally drained but mostly relived as she walked closer, pulling what was left of what used to be her sweater on her back in an attempt to stop from ruining the car. As she approached she muttered, “This is usually where I’d say somethin’ clever… I’m sorry.” Before moving to sit in the passenger seat.

As she approached the car, she'd find the back covered up in a sheet "Lie in the back, don't want to be sitting up for no reason. Am I taking you to the hospital or do you have any other plans?" Volg seemed in a mood Billy would recognise, clearly irritated, but hiding it well enough behind a mask of cold professionalism that most people wouldn't figure. A sort of soldierly delay of his grievances until there are no more pressing concerns and she's safe. Pretty much the standard for whenever Billy got into trouble that put her into any danger and one of the rare instances where Volg would bother holding off his irritation. (edited)

Billy made no move to protest, she didn’t have the Will to protest. She simply lay in the back of the car and reply, “Hospital sounds just fine.” Once in the back and using her Bag as a pillow she paused for a moment before saying “… Go on n’ scold me already. “

Volg drove quietly for a bit, even after the question was posed, until eventually he broke the silence "You've got your own life, Billy. This happened outside of the bar, on your own time, at your own discretion. I'm not your father, I'm your employer I've nothing to scold you about so long as you keep it that way and also don't become a masquerade breach. You put yourself at risk doing whatever the fuck it is you do for fun, but it's your choice to do so, I've neither the intent nor the right to deny you that. But speaking not as an employer but as a friend: You take your life for granted, like you can throw yourself at any problem and come out of it alive. Well here's a tip from a dead man, life isn't guaranteed. Death seems like a foreign concept right up until the moment it arrives. Only moments before their heart stops beating does a person truly comprehend their mortality. You've only got one shot. Don't risk it over a damn Leech, and yes that includes me. You've got something, it may not be the best, but it's something don't throw it away for a walking corpse. And never forget that no matter how good we may be at acting otherwise, that's all that Kindred are." Several parts of this were odd, but most notably while it was a fact until now Volg never really vocalized that he considers anyone in this world a friend.

2

[End scene ?]

19:03

[Great scene guys, sorry for making you wait so long pray

]

Billy lay looking at the headboard of the car. A tear ran down her cheek as she listened and quietly replied, “Ya know, it’s hard t’ tell sometimes… All just look like people…Guess that’s what I get for hangin’ around people that act like they’re already monsters and dead men, I pick up bad habits ‘n can’t tell the difference.” She looked to Volg’s reflection and gave a sad smile, “At least I’m in good company.”

Summary On the way home from work, Billy takes a picture of a man on the edge of a bridge, just to realize he was contemplating jumping. She was able to stop him from doing so, but not before he shot her. They mellowed the situation until Billy realized he was Kindred and called Volg. At this point the kindred broke down in paranoia, and leapt off the bridge, despite Billy’s best efforts. Volg picked her up to drive her to the hospital, having a heart to heart with his friend on the way there