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]

“Good idea. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Rhiannon uncrossed her feet and followed Valerie out of the men’s room. Although the contents of her previous drink still sloshed in her stomach, she could use another one now, and a change of venue was requisite if the victim called the cops or management was notified. She wasn’t into police questioning. Her hands actually trembled as potential consequences of meeting another slayer – good and bad – flitted through her brain. It could be great for a slayer to have her back during big fights. It would make slow patrols a hell of a lot less boring. On the other hand, what if Valerie was in thick with the Council?

One way or another, it was going to be a big deal.

[valerie_vause]

They did, but the statement sent a slight chill through Valerie. More from the unknown than the tone of it. What kind of relationship did the brunette have with the Council? Did she trust them unconditionally or did she question the methods and means? The blonde questioned a lot of things, she realised quickly though that those kind of questions never truly got answered and she suspected the Council kept tabs on the things she had asked. Valerie had learned quite quickly to keep them to herself, most of the time. Once out of the bathroom Valerie turned, rather than walking back through the lounge she found the fire escape and eased it open. Unsurprisingly there was no alarm, and she shook her head and stepped out into the warm night.

“So have you been in this area long?” She asked casually, adding, “I’ve been here maybe a month, give or take a week.”