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

[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.”