Indecision

Aug. 31st, 2013 12:32 pm
holiday_pirner: (3)
[personal profile] holiday_pirner in [community profile] birthright_rpg
There was a light positioned over the Kay's office that illuminated a square of orange. Holly was standing in that square, examining the vending machine's offerings. She had gone down to the ice machine with her little plastic bucket. It sat on the ground next to her feet as she sorted through the small pile of change in her palm.

The brunette found two quarters, deposited them, and pressed the rectangular button for an orange. She heard the machine come to life, but then it stalled. Holly bent to check for the soda. "Again?"

She banged her hand against the machine in a halfhearted attempt to get the thing moving again.

Since her memorable night out at the club, Holly hadn't strayed far from her motel room. She flipped through the few television channels, paged idly through some magazines, and re-painted her toenails about 5 times.

Holly had settled on emerald green.

Now she stood there, not wanting to go back to her room, and not wanting to venture out into Searchlight. She stared at the taunting, magnified picture of a Coke, beads of condensation sweating down the can.

"I hate you."

on 2013-08-31 08:03 pm (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (laugh)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
Daniel pulled on his earlobe and watched her fidget with the ice bucket. Another thing his nose told him: Holly wasn’t scared. Whatever he said in the alley convinced her he wasn’t going to bite her – a feat, considering he wasn’t sure he could keep the promise long-term. He had never tried.

“I’m not the smartest guy around, but it just occurred to me. Maybe you’re setting me up.” He waved a hand. “Hear me out. Your wallet gets stolen, I jump in to buy your earrings. The machine takes your quarters, I get your can of soda. Now I’m out here in East Bum-fuck…” He indicated the bleached parking lot, the empty highway. “What’s your plan?”

on 2013-08-31 09:11 pm (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (Default)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
“So you say, so you say,” Daniel mused. Balancing on one foot, he stretched his leg and stuck his toe in the bucket, setting it upright. The whole exchange reminded him of playing soccer. “I was taught that women are always trouble. But I, too, am I risk taker, and since I’ve already gotten myself dead,” he rubbed his chest, where his heart no longer beat, “What’s the harm in hanging out with you? Just don’t move up to lost cars. I’m not made out of money.”

Actually, that was getting to be a sticky point with Deanna. He needed cash. She didn’t want to part with hers. Kept insisting he make his own way in the world. When he asked how the hell he was supposed to get a job with an expired driver’s license, she laughed in his face and suggested that, with a mindset like that, Daniel was doomed to give handies in men’s public bathrooms.

So far, he had no better ideas.

He didn’t like the idea of stealing credit cards off dead tourists. The cops would track him down in no time. He’d wind up frying in the one jail cell in Nevada that came with a window.

on 2013-08-31 10:23 pm (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (Default)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
One? I wish. He decided not to recap his long history of bad choices in women, like that time he wound up with a two-day hangover and a prescription for Amoxicillin.

“Have it off with you?” Feeling rueful, Daniel shook his head. “Sorry, I need a translation. Is that British for sex? Sex for earrings?”

Since she wasn’t drinking the Dr. Pepper, he borrowed it, rotated the can, and sipped. The bubbles went up his nose. It tasted the same as always, but he couldn’t remember why he once liked it.

on 2013-08-31 11:53 pm (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (Default)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
“I can taste it; it just doesn’t do anything for me. Like you and women, I hope.” Daniel raised the can and saluted her, wearing what he hoped was a cheeky grin rather than a sleazy one. Often, the only way he could tell was whether or not he got slapped. “Sorry, the redhead, the one who turned me… only into the ladies. A quality I ignored.

“Also, I have… no idea.” He rubbed the top of his head and did a visual inspection of the hotel wall, as if it might provide clues to the metaphysical conundrum. “It’s a residence, see,” he gestured at a doorknob, “But it’s temporary. Which makes you wonder about efficiency apartments. Short-term leases. People who live out of their cars.”

He scowled. “Why don’t I know this stuff?”

on 2013-09-01 12:25 am (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (scruff)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
“Yeah!”

Whoa, man. Over-eager. Dial it back to a respectable six.

“I mean, for science. Right?” He spread his hands. “I won’t explode or anything.” That much, he knew. He had tested out the invitation thing his first week as a vampire, tried to get into the apartment of a kid he’d witnessed pissing on his car tire and chased around the building. Just within reach of the little shit, Daniel ran into the barrier. It was trippy, like hitting a patch of thick air. No admission.

As he waited for Holly to make a move, another set of gears began to turn in his head. Redhead in Las Vegas. Filthy mouth. Liked girls. Pearl earrings. He tried to think to himself, the last time he’d seen Deanna, had she been wearing hers?

He got a weird feeling. As he filed in place behind Holly and her ice bucket, he caught himself sniffing her hair, trying to pick up a trace of his sire.

on 2013-09-01 01:14 am (UTC)
daniel_stacy: (dog tag)
Posted by [personal profile] daniel_stacy
Daniel raised his right hand. “I solemnly swear that I will not bite you.” He crossed his fingers in the pocket of his jeans. Old habits died hard.

Tonight. I won’t bite her tonight. What if she bumps into a table and nicks her leg or something? Am I gonna handle myself or am I gonna drop down and lick the wound like a dog? I could see that. Jesus. Let’s hope she’s not clumsy.

He took an oversized step and straddled the threshold. Nothing happened. “Ha. Look at that.” He completed his entrance and shut the door to keep the bugs out. From the entryway, the vampire took stock of the room. Seventies aesthetic, double bed, rabbit ears on the TV, a suitcase barfing clothes onto the carpet. He caught himself trying to spot a bra.

Nice. You’re a real pro.

“Alright, well. Congrats. You’ve taught me something my sire didn’t. Her name’s Deanna, by the way.” He tried to sound casual as he bandied the name about.

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