Entries tagged with sabra

Entry tags:

cian,
sabra

Demons on both sides

The flickering of lights from a passing ambulance illuminated the alley briefly, the vehicle hurrying on its way to a callout somewhere in the suburbs. Cian lowered himself to the ground from the stairs that ran down the wall opposite the portal, adjusting his jacket and scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He scratched his cheek, the slight rasp of stubble a little more common these last few days.

His sound of his footsteps bounced off the walls in a soft echo as he approached the phone booth, the number now known to all who were helping out with the 'watch' being maintained on the portal. The canteen of water he'd left inside earlier was still there and he was soon wiping the back of his hand across his mouth after downing half the contents. The weather was warming up, and his patrol earlier had meant he hadn't had time to eat, or have anything to drink before heading up from the Cove.

The protective shield the old witch had put up seemed to be holding, and Cian couldn't help but wonder how long it could be maintained, and whether it would last as long as the portal. It had stopped anything from the portal escaping out of the alley, but didn't prevent anyone from this world from passing through it.

He heard something behind him and turned, hand already moving to the weapons stashed behind the phone box, eyes flickering with gold flecks momentarily.

Entry tags:

echo,
sabra

Second Impressions

Cian's note had caused Echo to shake off the vestiges of the weird mood she'd been in since the night she'd seen the meteor, and she put the stone he'd left for her where he'd directed her to. Just knowing it was there made her feel more secure.

She'd gotten up at her usual early hour, then had breakfast and did her exercises in the front yard. Sometimes she wondered if her nearest neighbors, the Snyders, ever saw her out there, and if so what they thought of it. Then again, if they thought she was weird, they'd never mentioned anything. That was strangely comforting.

After she did some tidying up, she picked up the keys to the van and locked the trailer up behind her. She wanted to go up the highway to Vegas and catch the Strip before it got crowded. If it was ugly without all the neon, that would make her drawings better, more realistic. She was always looking for ways to expand on her talent, and urban landscapes were good for that in her opinion.

The roads were deserted because of the early hour, and when the hybrid reached the city she parked her vehicle in a metered spot. Dropping coins into the slot, she studied the street. Where was the best vantage point to start from?

Entry tags:

Look Out Below

The night was clear and cold. A weather front had blown through the day prior and dropped the evening temps into the thirties. A pale sliver of last-quarter moon hung over the desert, its edges sharp, and only a few wisps of clouds obscured the stars. Into this stark landscape a meteor streaked just before midnight.

It landed on the outskirts of town at the end of a dirt path. The land was part of an old horse ranch, abandoned in the early 1970s, so no family emerged from the cabin to investigate the fiery hole in their property, and no animals paced nervously along the fences.

A cactus sizzled and popped as it caught fire near the crater.

[Thread: Open to Anyone]

Entry tags:

sabra,
valerie

Lessons In Living

Sleep hadn’t come easy when she finally returned home at six in the morning. A lengthy patrol had seen that four of the undead returned to the earth as nothing more than ashes. Classes went by in a blur, her mind had been elsewhere, lunch had been skipped. Though she returned to her room to change, leave her books behind, then left again. Wandered, preoccupied, through shops. Picking up a few things of interest then off in search of something new to fill her mind. By the time she showed up outside Sabra’s door it was seven.

Bags sat at her feet so that she could knock while the other arm clutched several to her chest. The same routine had been needed at the desk, another month paid for. She either had to sell a few pieces of art or get a job soon. The prospect didn’t feel pleasant so she shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“Sabra, it’s me. Are you in?”

Valerie bent to pick the other bags up. They weren’t heavy to her, just awkward to manage all at once. A couple filled with clothes, others with books, one with toiletries, and one with food. At first it had been odd, bringing things to the woman, but over the weeks it gradually felt less peculiar. Perhaps slowly becoming a new normal, that only applied to the situation.

If she didn’t answer the blonde would have to walk back to her dorm with everything. The thought made her cringe and she sighed at the door.

Entry tags:

sabra

Nightclubbing For Demons

The girl... Blonde, strong - different. Valerie. About as much of an acquaintance as the host formerly known as 'Sabra' could realistically claim and one who had, between periodic visits, at least managed to coax a modicum of social grace from the controlling demonic entity within.

Bartering, financial transactions involving money, she was just about getting the hang of. Not because of being a slow learner, for she was anything but. It was just that Sabra possessed a habit of demanding, rather than making requests of others; be they polite or otherwise.

Yes, social graces were proving a little difficult for the Slayer's new... Friend. Or at least, what passed for one. Then again, on the up side, seeing as how Sabra had practically appointed the girl as a form of elected guide for this realm, having a form of trust was worthwhile.

Not casually slaughtering anyone but a handful of undead was a good thing, right? So far as Valerie had witnessed, anyway.

But tonight, Sabra was not in the motel room the blonde had provided for her. There was a strange combination of distaste and curiosity for the human world and the latter had been getting provoked by a seemingly constant watching of television. The show with puppets had been particularly useful for learning more about speech, words, letters and grammar. Numbers. The vampire-who-wasn't, taking joy from counting.

The club she now stood in was a much more mature choice of learning venue. Really, a woman like her might have seemed a little on the older scale of their usual customers, but Sabra had no way to know that, much less have reason to respect it. Looking around with her usual mixture of blank expression and partial scowl, at the crowds who milled past. That she wasn't wearing make-up likely contributed to her slightly unusual manner, too, but under dark lighting like this, maybe that wasn't too obvious.

Which was probably reason enough for someone to be caught in the bustle, almost spilling their drink against her. Sabra instantly fixing them with a look more fitting for a killer robot than human. Or would have been, were it not for the unusual nature of her verbal response.

"Why does the frog want to mate with the pig?"

[Open to anyone:]

Entry tags:

sabra,
valerie

Hunting Ground

Most of the buildings that surrounded the outlying areas of the campus thrived. There were only a few apartment buildings and hotels that had problems with guests apparently clearing out their rooms in the middle of the night without paying. Never to surface again. The normal consensus of thought on the matter seemed to be that Vegas just drove people to strange things. Like people were prone to running off and going nuts in one specific state because of, what, bright lights? Valerie didn’t buy it. A handful of people might just decided to start fresh, the rest? She’d wager things in the night took them.

For that reason she had decided to check the areas out. The fact that the properties were all within walking distance of each other sent warning bells off. On the outside things looked alright, but as she detoured down the alley between two of hotels she felt the hairs at the back of neck rise. That tingle of unease as she sensed them. Behind the dumpsters a struggle broke out, the scuffle easy for her ears to pick up. Then from the shadows a figure appeared, bleeding and running towards her. Behind the girl two figures stepped into sight.

“Don’t just stand there, get her!”

The command had been barked from a tall, muscular vampire with short red hair to a shorter, leaner one with a mop of unruly dark curls. Valerie rushed towards the girl, grabbed her by the arm and all but pushed her sobbing onto the bright sidewalk with a shout of, “Run!” There was no time for anything else as the dark haired vampire tackled her like a linebacker. The girl let out a scream and took off as the air in Valerie’s lungs got forced from her body. She groaned with the impact and felt the skin of her palms scrape into shreds along the filthy ground as she landed. The blonde scrambled forward on hands and knees as the demon latched onto one of her boots. She let out a frustrated snarl and kicked out with her free leg to collide with his collar bone. It did the trick and dislodged him.

Valerie wasted no time in getting to her feet before he could grab her again, she turned only to come face to face with the taller one. “You’ll make a nice replacement.” The growl made her roll her eyes and she spat back, “You wouldn’t like me.” With lightning speed she dug her fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer just to headbutt him roughly. “I cause heartburn.”

She kept a hold of him as he staggered back to use as leverage as she kicked out at the shorter vampire who’d made it to his feet. When he stumbled backwards Valerie brought her knee up to hit the red head in his groin. When he doubled over the blonde used his back to aid her forward flip over him. She pivoted to deliver a vicious kick that landed at the base of his spine and sent him into his shorter friend. Instinct had her check her back and she almost sighed. Two more sauntered slowly up the alley behind her. Valerie turned to the two she currently fought with an exasperated, “Just how many of you are there?”

The tall one grinned, “Just us four, you’ll be enough to share.”

Entry tags:

echo,
sabra

Close Encounters

It turned out that there was a place near The Dive where Echo could find Guinness, a small liquor store about a block from the bar, and the day after she visited the club she made another trip up the highway to see at least part of the city in daylight. She bought two six-packs of twelve-ounce bottles, knowing that would last her for a while because the stuff was so strong, then carried them down the crumbling sidewalk to where she'd parked her van.

She should call her parents in a couple of days, give them a status update. Having gotten her phone installed, she might as well make use of it by sending up a proverbial flare to let them know she was okay. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since lunch, and it was nearly seven o clock. Maybe she could find a decent pastrami sandwich somewhere.

She stowed the beer in the back of the van, then locked up the vehicle before starting off in the direction she'd come from. She'd eat dinner, then hit the road again. And check her mailbox when she got home, which she'd been doing obsessively lately. Her ship was about to come in, or at least she hoped it was.

And Las Vegas was much less tacky before the sun went down.

Entry tags:

sabra

With Good Intent

It began with a pulse... An echoing thrum of an ancient rhythm. Something causing the age-old veil between worlds to ripple, no matter how slightly, allowing resonance to flow from one realm's vibrational frequency to another. A glint of light sparkling out through a prism of that most curious thing... Life.

"...playback looks good..."

"...monitor isn't picking up any..."

"...on the Council, but..."

Voices being heard far off, attracting further attention. Voices on the other side. Something stirring; something moving closer, like some undersea beast investigating a lure in the deepest, darkest ocean.

"You sure this is the correct tone? What if it's not? What if it's a-a-an octave too-"

"Will you relax? Jesus, Steve... I had Linda run it through the system - it models perfectly. We've been over this a thousand times."

"Yeah, I... I know, it's just..."

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

All conversation swiftly halted. Crystals being held in place by clamps, not twine - shaking for no discernible reason. No Earthly reason, at least. Monitoring gear sending its impatient electronic alarm in reception of... Something. A dot matrix printer loudly beginning to fire off its readings in staccato fashion.

And red... There was red... At first, an almost magnetic pull compelling incorporeal bulk onward and through. All too soon, the dimensional slipstream taking hold, urging it forth, like a plughole immersed in quicksand. At first, the strangeness of light, but then - yes - the red. A welcoming home of crimson, unwilling or unable to reject.

It didn't know where. It didn't know what. It only knew sanctuary.

To other eyes, what unravelled was a sight most chilling. Their proverbial bait had been not only taken, but snatched. The woman's body, formerly prone, now lifting suddenly, thrusting up by some invisible force and held aloft - just for a moment. Then suddenly lurching, from one side to the other, as if clutched by the unseen hand of an angry god. Body trying to slam up against ceiling, held in check only by chained restraints, only to be hurled straight back down, connecting against the floor with a loud THUD.

And then... Nothing. Electronics sparking. Those few bulbs which had escaped explosive destruction, providing dim light over what had unfolded. No voices now. Not for a while. Just a long pause and then...

"Fuck!"

It took several moments for the figures to gather their composure. One shouting to the other about protocol. The other retorting with how this defied protocol. That this had been more than expected. Different, somehow. That they must have missed something or that perhaps the translations had been off or...

"What do you mean, off?"

"I... Look, it's nothing. Just a... There was some phrasing which didn't match up - this was the only logical-"

"What do you mean... Off."

More determination, that time. Steve wasn't going to have his concerns hand-waved away. Not after that. A few others in the group now voicing their worries, too. A couple picking themselves off the floor with a look of sheer disbelief.

"Hey, I'm not the one who substituted-"

Noise. More specifically, the sound of something wet. Flesh and bone giving a mild thump, like a fish out of water slapping its tail, trying to breathe. A shoulder... Moving. All eyes casting down to where she laid. Their lure. Their bait.

Now the new home of something other.

"This... This isn't the inscription for... What the hell did you use for 'Slayer'? This is... I mean, it's generic for 'slayer', but it's..."

"What?"

But Linda's face was ashen as she looked up. Her head slowly turning back to something which should have remained unmoving. Looking on as it raised itself, unsteadily, to unfamiliar feet.

"Something else..."

A something which did not belong. A something which gazed at them through human eyes with deadly, seething contempt. A something now trapped against its will in man's domain.