Pain is a Demon Magnet

[rhiannon_lee]

Tragedies left fingerprints on people and places. Death, pain, and sorrow all built up a psychic energy that outlasted any attempts at therapeutic intervention, any renovations made to physical structures. You could paint over smoke damage, tear up bloodied carpet, knock down an entire building and the atmosphere wouldn’t change. The ground itself pulsated with what came before. Such was definitely the case with the MGM Grand. No matter how many millions developers channeled into the hotel or what its new owners called it, the building remained the home of the worst disaster in Nevada history. Fire, smoke, and heights had pooled their resources to kill 85 people. The psychic juice was enough to bait the dead into spending quality time on the premises.

As Rhiannon sipped a drink in the lounge on the ground floor, she contemplated what she felt: A buzz in the top of her spine, a knowledge of otherness in the room, maybe a remnant of hell flexing its muscles, five years later.

And if the fuzzy police reports were to be believed, it was vampire central.

Just like them, she thought, to clamor over the echoes of tortured screams.

The outfit was a new purchase. Nothing in her duffel bag was up to the task. If you were going to hang out in a prime piece of Las Vegas real estate, you needed the right gear. She compromised on a tight pair of black trousers with a wide belt, a black top with lace overlay, a flared jacket, and heeled boots. An assortment of silver necklaces jangled when she stretched her neck.

Whistler thought he had whiplash?

You’re damn right, you’re paying the bill, she had grumbled upon finding the hospital costs covered.

Her elbow still felt like murder. Rhiannon hissed when she forgot and rested her weight on the bar.

[Thread: Open to Valerie]

Comments

[rhiannon_lee]

“Thanks,” Rhiannon said. She accepted the bartender’s offer of a refill on her vodka tonic. Yeah, thank you for the price gouging and the sucker punch to my dwindling bank account. A shame, but it wouldn’t do to order a Pepsi in a setting such as this one just to be a cheapskate. Not only would she look as out of place as a nun in a whorehouse, but the brunette craved a salve for her nerves, which could be steely in the right circumstances but had never fully adapted to posh surroundings. Always she had the sneaking suspicion that the truth was spelled in neon above her head for anyone perceptive enough to read her:

Does Not Belong Here.

“Tell me about this place,” she nudged as he wiped down the meticulously clean counter. He was either running on autopilot or hoping to whittle away the time with menial tasks. “Is it true it’s haunted?” Her expectations for credible information were low, but if anyone had seen the strange apparitions rumored to linger in the lounge, it would be a bartender forced to stay until closing in the twilight hours. If he dropped a hint that she should watch her back on the way out, she could presume he knew about the crime rate, too.

She gave the blonde a neutral look as she entered their proximity, figuring the more the merrier; a regular could have as much insight as an employee.

[valerie_vause]

The question to the bartender caught the blonde’s attention and she turned slightly to lean one elbow on the bar. Valerie’s gaze lingered on the brunette who’d asked it before she looked towards the guy for the answer. If she didn’t know herself it was a safe bet that she wasn’t a regular. Though she could still be local. A weird feeling ran through her, not familiarity, the woman was a stranger. It wasn’t unpleasant either, no tingle of warning that danger lurked. So what was it? Valerie couldn’t put her finger on it and welcomed the distraction as he finally paused from cleaning to look at them.

“I’ve never seen any ghosts but…” He leaned on the bar, lowered his voice so nobody else heard. “You know, freaky shit happens all the time. A month ago some guy went to use the bathroom, runs out screaming, said the door handle burned him. They found his skin still stuck to it.”

He stood up with a shudder and grabbed the nearest glass to clean.

Valerie arched her eyebrows and nodded. “That sounds…” True. “Awful.” Well, she wouldn’t be using the facilities in the place, that was for sure. Ghosts or not, something had caused that, and she knew it would be highly unlikely that anyone would seriously entertain the thought. Beyond the spooky what if, that cloaked the supernatural so well. She sipped at her drink and shared a look with the brunette to see her reaction. Not everyone chose to believe these things were fake. There were a rare few that saw past the surreal and found the truth. The blonde thought of Brian, then remembered why she was there and focused.

“I heard a girl got attacked here last week, is that true?” The question that rolled off her tongue had been a lie, but a plausible one that Valerie had no issue in using. She sipped her drink and cast her gaze to the bartender.

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon’s mouth twisted downward at the idea of burnt flesh on a door knob. It sounded god-awful and that unique odor was one the slayer got exposed to on the regular. No matter how quickly vampires went up in flames, they stank to high heaven like any ordinary human. But it lent an interesting angle to the building’s story: that kind of haunting bore striking resemblance to a poltergeist getting its rocks off. She had read newspaper clippings about the original fire and its cause: friction-damaged wires sparking in the kitchen wall.

Sure. Likely culprit.

She was drawn back to the moment by the blonde’s question.

Rhiannon watched the bartender debating his next move. On the one hand, he wanted to keep the women around for a chance at a better tip. On the other, this gruesome conversation was a hell of a lot more entertaining than wiping dishes. He opened his mouth. Clamped it shut. Leaned over the counter between them and muttered, “Yeah, but you didn’t hear it from me. It wasn’t last week, it was in July. They said she bled out in the stairwell. I heard somebody stole her wallet and cut her throat, but— ” He jerked his head. “Sounded like B.S. to me, you know why? No cleaning crew. A mess like that, they’d have to bring in professionals.”

“Soooo… use the elevator is what you’re saying.” Rhiannon gave him a thumbs-up and clucked. “Got it.”

[valerie_vause]

That poor woman might have had her throat ripped out but it wouldn’t have been slit. No cleaners meant no blood, and no blood meant one fully fed vampire had drained her dry and robbed her corpse. What was a little five finger discount between the dead? Admittedly, Valerie had treated them in kind, whatever cash they had left in a jacket pocket before they dusted became hers. Well, she had to eat and the Council didn’t offer annual bonuses. Slay fifty a fortnight and get a hundred dollars. If only it worked that way. The harsh reality was that they didn’t fund her at all. Any of them. So when it came to what she could scavenge off the supernatural she got what she could, she had too, besides it was better off in her pocket than going up in flames.

The brunettes comment caused the corners of Valerie’s lips to twitch into a slight smile. It might have been inappropriate, a woman had needlessly been slaughtered, but the morbid humour was appreciated. If you didn’t learn to cope in some way you’d go mad. At least, that was the blonde’s perspective.

“Did they ever catch who did it?” The question, though genuinely curious, felt light to her own ears. Casual so as not to cause suspicion. It was one thing to back and forth in a way that said gossip but if she asked seriously she’d come off as interrogating, and nobody liked that.

He shrugged uncomfortably and rubbed his large hands together as if a chill had just come over him. He shook his head before saying, “Between us three and the bar?” He cast his gaze towards the end of the counter where a man tried to signal him for a refill. “Either the cops here are fucking useless or the criminals are smart as hell. I’ve worked here for about two years, and with everything that’s happened maybe three people were charged, and not even with murder, but petty stuff like stealing and fraud.”

He shook his head again and walked off to serve the middle aged man who sent a sour look towards the blonde and the brunette. Someone apparently didn’t like to be kept waiting. Valerie ignored him and glanced around the lounge. It made her wonder why anyone would keep coming back, then she realised maybe they didn’t. The place was akin to a tourist trap, new feet crossed the threshold everyday, a steady stream of individuals who had no idea what they were stepping into. “Well I don’t know about you but I feel safe.”

The tone was sarcastic but gentle as Valerie turned to look at the woman with a slight smile that said she was joking. No real surprise that the police couldn’t catch the ones responsible for such things but then they had a tendency to cover up what they couldn’t explain. In some ways that seemed worse. Fabricated facts never helped anyone, except the demons that carried on picking people off.

“I’m half tempted to rent a room for the night just to see how haunted this place really is.” This time she was serious, even if she did fiddle with the pink umbrella before taking a sip.

[rhiannon_lee]

“I’m with you.” Rhiannon plucked the lime wedge from her drink and tossed it on a saggy napkin. She tipped the glass again and captured a piece of ice with her teeth. Its crunch was audible over murmured conversation and piano music piping through speakers. It was her second drink and despite having a decent tolerance, the bartender had made them strong enough for the slayer to feel warmth spreading in her belly. The tension in her neck was subsiding, too. She saw lipstick on the glass rim. Rhiannon touched her fingertips to the corners of her mouth.

“I bet people come here a lot just to say they’ve done it.” She looked around. The furniture was lush and soft. A low stage took up one wall, though it was unoccupied for the time being. The ceiling recessed in places to soften the acoustics. It was a nice refurbish. Still, she wasn’t crazy about the vibe. When she picked up a demonic presence on the street, Rhiannon got pumped. Pick it up in a place full of innocent people and it just made her think of lambs on the way to slaughter.

She watched a gentleman place his hand on the small of a woman’s back. He led her into the lobby. Wedding rings flashed on both of their hands. Nothing amiss there.

“That’s why I’m here.” Rhiannon reconsidered. “Well, not to say I’ve been here, but to see it for myself.” She rubbed her lips together and observed her bar buddy. There was a calm presence to the blonde, something she liked instinctively. “I’m Rhiannon.”

[valerie_vause]

Valerie’s lips twitched before she gave in and let the smile take form, the brunette got her kind of humour, it felt quite nice. Classical music might not have been everyone’s thing, but in such an opulent establishment it made sense that the guests would be the kind to appreciate it. If she were honest with herself she quite liked it too, and her head tilted to listen for a second to the tune of the piano. Moonlight Sonata, if she wasn’t mistaken. The blonde enjoyed it because of the emotional journey she could hear taking place, hauntingly beautiful, and let her gaze wander the crowd. No, not a crowd, these were people with plenty of money, that enjoyed the finer things in life, they didn’t stand around in groups. They sat at tables, a party of individuals, and not the kind with rock music and streamers. The blonde’s eyes flicked between them, a few seemed like business meetings, others might have been celebrations of some kind. Then there were the couples that sat by themselves, talking intimately around the sides of the lounge, while the odd few sat or stood alone, like herself.

Well, maybe not alone anymore. Valerie turned to the brunette when she spoke, let her teeth catch the straw to chew on it a second before she sipped at her cocktail. Sweet though it was the fruity liquid almost burned as it travelled down her throat and she felt it begin to hit her system. She’d only had little over half and yet she felt almost fuzzy around the edges, pleasantly so. One hand lifted so that fingers could push a few strands of blonde hair behind an ear and she nodded in agreement. “Or been dared into doing it. People love a ghost story.” Usually when the ghosts weren’t real.

Valerie’s eyebrows raised in question when the brunette said that was why she was there and she wondered if she meant the dare aspect. “Ahh…” Not a dare then. “That’s kind of why I’m here actually, to see for myself.” The blonde grinned slightly, “I’m Valerie.”

Another sip was taken before she added curiously, “I can’t imagine why anyone would stay here more than a day or two, you know? The place has some seriously creepy vibes.” Valerie lifted her shoulders in a half shrug, a slight laugh escaped with her next words. “Maybe they don’t feel it so it could just be me.”

[rhiannon_lee]

“Kinda hard to imagine not feeling it,” said Rhiannon. “It’s like…” she twirled a finger at her nape, “Like that shiver you get when you hear a dentist drill on a tooth, or when you feel your fingernail bending backwards. Take your pick.” And every once in a while, she got the smallest whiff of smoke, perhaps a real air quality problem only masked by the renovations, but maybe… just maybe… it wafted on the air through a mystical window into times past.

“However,” she announced, lifting her glass, “They don’t skimp on the liquor, so I could learn to like it.” She gulped a few swallows. She was thirsty and not just for water or booze. It was what brought her to the city’s most darkly infamous location. Aside from the scuffle with Vehicular Manslaughter, she was sorely short on slayage.

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?” she asked, a spike of worry coming to mind as she considered the situation: Pretty girl around Rhiannon’s same age hanging out in a crime-infested bar by herself. Could be rife for disaster.

Nevermind what a hypocritical question it would seem.

[valerie_vause]

“I’ll go with the dentist drill.” Valerie said with a slight nod. It fit, the uneasy feeling that sound left behind pretty much summed up the unease the environment caused right now. Whether the brunette realised it or not the answer had made the blonde pause. Not from suspicion so much as it was rare to find someone who picked up on those kind of things. In a sense it made her feel at ease, for once she wasn’t alone in how she felt.

Valerie had lifted her own drink to find the straw with her lips, had almost finished it too when she heard Rhiannon, and just managed to swallow the liquid before she laughed. “At first I resented the price but now I’m thinking it might have been worth it.” Then she did finish it, and set the glass down on the counter just to pluck the straw free. She’d motion for another in a minute. “If they’re usually this strong it makes me wonder if they’ve been told to make them that way. Tipsy people aren’t usually spooked easily, and if they are, another drink could help that.”

She was thinking out loud because it felt like the right thing to do. Teeth chewed on the end of the straw as she gazed around again, then as the question was heard she wondered if it looked like she was looking for someone. The blonde shifted to look at Rhiannon again, bemused as she stated, “I am.” Then gently as if it were no big deal, “Aren’t you?” Though if she was, she’d have to keep an eye on her, and not because she thought she was incapable of looking after herself, but because in the brief time they’d talked Valerie had decided she liked the brunette.

[rhiannon_lee]

“Busted,” Rhiannon said. She was faintly amused by the hammered end of Valerie’s straw and wondered if it served its function after her teeth did a number on it. The lime wedge in her vodka tonic came with a blue plastic sword that looked better suited to swashbuckling than any sword Rhiannon had ever used on a demon. The useful ones tended to be shorter, broad implements with heft to them.

“I’ve got an idea. When one of us decides to leave, the other goes, too,” she said, striking the bargain to remove any chance of argument. “That way, neither of us gets mysteriously offed.” Though in no particular hurry, Rhiannon retrieved a thin wallet from her pocket and counted bills to cover her drinks and tip. She didn’t desire a third and she wanted the flexibility to jump out of her seat and take off whenever. “I doubt we’ll get iced at the bar. It sounds like trouble happens on exit.”