ain't like me

She turns back with a wide grin, ignoring the ache in her face as she does so. "Trust, though. It'll be a good time - really chill." She's not the type to go party at Soleil, and she definitely doesn't find a lot of fun in terrorizing people. If anything, she'll just show Thao the hotspots, where to hang, where to chitchat, the best shows.

Vampires - his previous thought rattles around in his mind. He'd dropped his guard when he'd run into Lara in this dingy town. Let more than just his sister inside the palisades he'd spent years and years building - walls not just meant to keep people out but to keep him in. He's seen what happens to Vampires who give up what's left of them.

That thought draws his eyes back to his sister, to the proof of it that's scratched into her face. "Yeah," he agrees. He doesn't have the energy for an argument.

She watches him move, and her face falls a bit. If he's clear, that means he can leave town. As soon as the weather clears? She can't help but glance to the window, where snow still falls and piles up on the back of their home.

Her hand covers where Lara's rests on her hip, pulling it up and under her nose to kiss the back of her knuckles. "I mean what else can we do?" Birdie's head falls against Lara's. "Open a plow business?"

Then, a bit a sulking."I need to go talk to the fucking wolf people - make sure we aren't cooking bad blood over whatever the fuck happened with Nsilo. I really don't want beef with them. Already hard enough with Vampires trying to take advantage of her being gone and Hunters declaring it open season."

It's been too long since they've just been able to sit and relax with just the two of them - too many responsibilities and too many worries. After the kiss, though, Birdie's face shifts and Lara strokes a thumb along her eyebrow. "Want me to come with you? At least wait in the car or something."

She frowns, chewing on her lower lip. The idea of talking to any wolves scares the shit out of her, but she guesses it has to be done.

Takes the fun outta half the drive.

And then there's a drink in front of him, an' he knows it the moment it hits his nostrils. He didn't know she how to pull it off. She's traded out his Manhattan habit, and added poitín as a liquor. "You tryin' to get me goosed, Lara?" He thanks the bartender, and turns his gaze back to the only woman who'd include that detail in something as finite as a drink. There's a lot of good lookin' women around in her house of night too. "I ain't got a good track record, y'know. You's gonna toss me out if I's three sheets to the wind, ay?"

She knows. 'Cause she probably remembers as good as any that he weren't all that civil in some places, 'specially to folk who'd been lookin' at Lara in ways he didn't much like. Lookin' at him, like they had a bullet nice an' ready for his backside. Between laughin' and gassin' around, he'd been someone else to that city. He's mourned what could have been, already. He thinks she has, too. Garrick'll try be better, in this version of them.

But he ain't someone changin' overnight.

Kanemaru's chill, so Lara says. Something like that. "How's Birdie takin' to that?" He don't know her all that well, but judgin' from nights they had together in blood, she's got a little apprehension that don't wanna pick fights she don't need to.

He didn't know it had anything to do with the dogs, though. That's news. Has his eyes narrowing with concern, "You's messin' with the wolves?" Not necessariy, her, but he tries to make it sound like he isn't suddenly about to go to war with every pack in the city — "I's meanin' that I don't likes that there's eye for eye with Kanemaru with you's in it." Garrick don't have beef with were's, as long as they mind their own. He don't understand how there's revenge, if 'Maru lost. "Did your clan take one of theirs?"

Recipe for a war, that is. Ain't the time, nor the place for monsters to crawl outta the woodwork 'cause of a lil old scuffle. Now he's got all the more reason to rip down Pret's tower, or at least borrow the helm of it to steer Lara clean outta trouble.

And she'd been worried about him?

Garrick ain't known his sister's gone off script, either. The fuck have I been? And that's more troubling than any talks of battles. Frankie's a cannon on a rogue ship. He don't think there's harm in Lara knowin' he and Frankie ain't so close at the moment. "She ain't too happy with me, lately." he confesses, lifting the drink to take a swig, "What she say to you, 'cause it's probably a load'a shit, doll."

But there's something else, and he carefully navigates Lara up and down, beyond the scars, to look for signs of somethin' else. "She ain't do anythin' to you, did she?"

That's about all she can ask for.

"Birdie is.. not really enjoying being the head honcho. It's kinda been foisted upon her rather than something she chose. I keep telling her the fact that she doesn't want it means she'll be kind of good at it." And so the conversation circles and circles. "No wolves have come callin' yet. They took one of ours, we took one of theirs. You'd think that'd be that. But. I don't know, got a funny feeling about it."

She leans back after a sip of her drink, brushing some of her hair back - she knew bringing up Frankie would lead to this. "I'm sorry you two aren't.. on good terms." Her face twitches into sympathy, because losing a sibling hurts, no matter how it shakes out. "I'm not upset with her and she didn't hurt me, just had a few choice words about us.. talking."

Her fingers tap on the counter, "She just was that sort of fake-sweet, nothing threatening or insulting." Lara lies easily, because she doesn't want to mention to Garrick the comments about the scars on her face or the pointed barbs about the knife. "I get the sense that she's.. unhappy with me for hurting you? Or jealous?"

Leaning forward, she rests her hand on his, squeezing it. "She's not going to hurt me."

She hopes.

Port Leiry wasn't home. It was the people in that damn place that drew houses with crayons for Anika on crumbled pieces of paper. It reminded her of the picture Henry made for her birthday — a very pink face with sloppy lines and big dark eyes that creeped her out. (She hoped he didn't actually see her as some bug eyed creep.) Her name sat in the corner: Ani—ka, the last letters dragged underneath.

She lived in a paper house now, behind a paper picket fence, surrounded by paper people looking at her with wobbly eyes and crooked smiles. Because reality was frightening. So she'd put on dark sunglasses to pretend the snow wasn't there, to avoid eye contact with anyone who might recognize the version of her that wasn't paper.

Henry was somewhere nearby, Anika could still hear his giggles even after he disappeared from her peripheral. But even through the snowstorm, beneath five coats of white, Lara still stopped to stare at her.

Anika looked up at her friend through her shades and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket, waving the dark screen. "No signal and shit." It didn't sound like an apology, but Lara probably knew by now that this was what Anika's apologies sounded like. "Would've told you I was stopping by. I'm not that big of a bitch."

Considering they were friends now.

Were they still?

But she speaks.

There's no faking that dismissive air disguised as something of an apology. Logic has no hold on what she does next. She turns fully towards her, and runs up to pull her in a tight hug. "Fuck you." She murmurs, and pulls back, keeping her hands on Anika's shoulders. The snow out here is just flurries for now, but piled high up around them - it shows just how long she's been gone.

"Fuck, Anika." She squeezes her shoulders again, relieving flooding through her. She'd genuinely thought they'd never see each other again, and now here she is - alive, in the flesh. With a kid.

She looks to the little boy, then back to Anika, raising her eyebrows. "You have so much to explain." But she crouches down to meet Henry at eye level. "Hey there, little man." She holds out her fist for him to bump it with his own. "You're as cute as a button."

He tips his head towards one of the barstools, in case she's gonna sit.

He ain't gonna ask her to go out back, 'cause he thinks he's already scared some of them girls last time he'd come by and shocked Lara in her dressing room. He ain't meanin' to cause any ill will to her girls. Not at the Cabaret, at least.

Garrick's brow lifts at the remark, 'cause he don't know if she's teasing.

So his smile is crooked, and he snaps his tongue on his teeth "Now you's know I ain't so good at that, doll." If he don't find it, it often finds him. Trouble is a snare he gets caught in, no matter where he is. Ain't no getting out of it, without chewing through it, or ripping it to pieces. Garrick don't want to say it (in case it's true), because he's bitter at the thought of what she might have meant, but he does so, for Lara's sake. "You's don't want me comin' by, Lara, you's just tell me that." Ain't gonna stir no trouble with her if that's what she's meanin'.

So she don't think he's there to hassle at her place or nothin', he makes it quick. Glancing to the bartender to their left, he wonders if they're smart enough to keep their ears plugged. Don't matter, he think's if he's quiet enough, and clear enough in a gentlemanly dialect for her to get it, they don't get to listen in to their business.

"I heard about Kanemaru." He still don't know if it's his place to ask, or if it's a tragic excuse to see her. Then, in a more levelled tone, "Ain't sure how you were keeping."

The bartender brings by two glasses full - her favorite, and something that she knows Garrick'll like. She'd made sure they stocked at least a little something for him the last time he stopped by, just in case he ever wanted to come by again.

"Nah, you're welcome here. Anytime. You should know that." The bartender moves away quickly, once the drinks are delivered and Lara gives him a look that says it's a private conversation. Smart boy. She turns her attention fully to Garrick now.

"Yeah. 'Maru's - we're not in shambles, but things are rocky. Birdie got the top spot. I'm helping where I can." Difficult position to be in, knowing that it's only a matter of time before wolves come knocking. "Only thing I'm worried about is if we're gonna get some visits from some mutts looking for revenge. You'd think we were living in a Hinton novel."

She takes a sip of her mojito - it doesn't suit the weather, but fuck, something's gotta give her some whimsy these days. "You talk to your sister, by the by? She had some.. words with me the other day." Lara should probably be bothered by it - but they should both know that now that they're reunited, it'll be hard to separate them. She figures that goes for two sides of the triangle.

Things, quiet as they are, have not been quiet in a way that gives her any peace of mind. People vanishing. It's nearly May and they're still buried in snow and dark clouds. Earlier today, she'd her REM on her music playlist singing about the end of the world as we know it.

Hard not to agree.

They'd had this nice yard for a handful of months before it'd become buried in snow.

"Babe," she calls out, not breaking the stare that pierces her reflection in glass to lay its sights on the winter-locked world outside. The humans in town (when had she started thinking about people as 'the humans'?) scurry about the city as resources start to dwindle. At first, things had been coming in, but it seems like the world is slowly forgetting about Port Leiry, and as people come in without an ability to leave, she wonders how long before it turns into a powder keg.

Vampires live off blood, and it's in no short supply - but not everything lives off such little means.

"I think I hate snow," she finally calls, absently.

And now, here she was - tossing together pasta noodles in a wine sauce she'd made from scratch. People came by the Cabaret often, because of course they did. Hiding out at work wasn't an option, though. There wasn't much in the way of work to do and the people who did manage to make it and stop by were only a handful here and there.

The city had practically slowed to a stop, and more and more people went missing everyday.

She hears Birdie by the window, and finishes plating the pasta with a splash of blood from the fridge. Enough to help them taste it, and the rest in a glass beside it. She wanders over to her girl, and rests her chin on her shoulder. "Gotta say, I'm less and less of a fan everyday. I thought when this started, it'd be a normal weird winter - had plenty of those, but this is something else."

One hand rests on Birdie's hip, and she watches more flurries drift down. "What are we even going to do? I can't get in touch with the terrible twosome anymore, either." One text had gotten through, but.. that was it for a while.

It's him being smart-assed, yes, but it's also him saying 'Vampires'

"Had to take care of some in-house stuff, hush-hush. It's fine, nothin's gonna follow me here, don't worry." If that's what she's worried about.

He turns the bag around in his hand; he'd split some with the kid on the way back but... he'll take it, even if staleblood's never quite pleasant. He tears the tube open, drinking, feeling the electricity of unlife surge again, bolstering more repairs to his aching body. "Why do we only feel things when it's painful, ever wonder that?"

Her fingers twitch, but she tries not to show the emotion on her broken features. His question though, brings the tips of her shaking fingers to the corner of her mouth, tracing along the ridged scars left from the venom knife.

"Noted. Weird is certainly not something I'm looking to get myself involved with." Though the mention of sisters had her believing she wouldn't have to worry about that. The clan seemed like a homegrown family, not something Thao was part of in any way.

She continued working on the colour of the tattoo, music playing softly filling any silences in their conversation. She took a moment to wipe down the tattoo, clean it up, and see any places that she needed to go back over to ensure the ink stayed beneath the skin.

Thao wipes her skin of excess ink, and Lara chances a glance down towards the work. It does burn, but it's nothing bad - and the art itself looks wonderful. There's a moment where she thinks about what Birdie's reaction will be, but she pulls herself to the present before getting too lost in that.

He uses the key to get him inside the house; it looks like his sister and her beau aren't back from the nightly grind yet, but the evening's proceedings have put things into a weird perspective.

After he parts ways with Aria back in town proper, things are righting themselves in his bones and muscles, undeath making sure he stays undead. Slumping into a chair, he finds himself wishing he needed air, if only because he could use a big, deep sigh right now. He could go back to his place, sleep it off for the next two days, but he needs to talk with Lara about things - about futures and stupid shit like that.

He avoids this place for the most part - seeks Lara out elsewhere - because he's not quite ready to forgive the people his sister seems so ready to dole out forgiveness to.

But tonight has put some perspective back in; Reardon being so willing to send their own against eachother with such dire retribution, it makes it clear to him that they are pieces on a board.

He's littered with bruises and healing damage - most of it gone by the time she'd arrived, but she can see the edges of just how bad it would have been. Idly scratching at her own scars, she reaches across and nudges his knee gently with a hand.

She offers a smile at Lara's understanding, a feeling within her telling her that the woman in front of her truly did get it. Perhaps one day she could open up to Lara, but for now, just meeting someone else like her who was also Kanemaru and wanted to get tattooed was enough for Thao.

The young vampire listened as the other spoke, pausing as she finished up the outline of the tattoo to change up the needles and offer Lara a sympathetic smile, "I'm truly sorry for your loss. She sounds like she was quite the person, and I wish I had the chance to get to know her in my time as a vampire." Nsilo sounded like someone Thao could truly appreciate and get along with, from what Lara had told her. She had no idea whether it would be the case, but she would like to think so.

"Emotional support and avoiding weirdos sounds good to me," she chuckled as she started working on the colour of the tattoo, "Who are the Lomidze's?"

Thao starts the color, and Lara wrinkles her nose a little at the feeling of it, but eventually it settles into a dull roar of pain at the back of her mind. It's nothing compared to the constant ache and itch of the werewolf venom knife that'd burned through her skin, and still burns to this day. She opens her mouth and wiggles her jaw around to settle some of the itching without moving too much.

Rumours got a bigger voice than most truths. Only need to believe it, to make it real enough to kill.

Garrick's heard that Kanemaru's had a bit of a blow.

Ain't his style to feel a lick of care about someone he don't know much about. But he's got a thread attached to him, thicker than just blood, an' it links him to Lara. She's rolls in that new age crowd. He didn't know nothin' about no Kanemaru really; it's a name cropped up on the backend of pleasure rides in the last half century, made waves in sprawling numbers, mostly.

They never lorded rules and laws over nobody, that he's aware of, so he ain't never spared much thought to them. Then, Lara. Bridget. Those who's got a piece on their board, so now Garrick's gotta prick up his ears to it, too.

Well, he wants to, 'cause it's her.

The Cabaret has the same faces he's grown to know, and he thinks they're beginning to note his infrequent visits to a certain doll. He doesn't stay, even if the temptation dares him to. Just asks for the Madame, and leaves it there. Seems only right he checks she's alright. He's no longer sure if that's his right. Ain't gonna stop him. But, he'll know if he's out of turn when he gets to see her an' she either slaps him, or doesn't. He's not great with a phone, on a good day. Blasted thing's always on silent, and getting forgotten in back pockets.

He's standing by the bar, askin' after her.

"If she ain't around, what about her lady?" He ain't tryin' to be a bird dog, but he reckons he looks a little bit like it, to these lot.

Sure, there's the occasional dolt. She can handle those. Right now, her sights are trying to keep set on the bigger picture - on what comes next. Difficult to do when she's not sure what's going on in the here and now. She and Birdie have a lot of work to do, it seems.

Lara hears him before she sees him - the accent sticks out like a sore thumb up here in the PNW. Sliding up next to him, "Lady's not here, but the main attraction is. You should text me."

She gestures to the bartender to bring them both something, and she turns towards him - "You know, you're going to get yourself in trouble." She's thinking about Frankie, mostly, and how that conversation had gone. "What's up, buttercup?"

Thao grinned as the other stated she was happy with the placement and got back to finish setting up her station as they spoke. She had her inks separated by which would work on each species, ensuring that her work would stay.

"Yeah, it definitely seems to match the vibes that I'm going for. Personal freedom isn't something..." Thao trailed off, clearing her throat. Trauma dumping wasn't particularly her style, especially with a client. "Oh? Is that something that happens often - new heads of the clans, I mean?" She questioned as she motioned for Lara to lie down on the tattoo bed. "You ready?"

"Hey - I get it." If Thao's not ready to talk about it, maybe they can eventually. She's patient. But she does understand the appeal of being able to spread your wings and let loose at the end of the day. It surprises her often that Kanemaru doesn't have more vampires than it does - in her experience, a lot of them get the short end of the stick when it comes to control and being controlled.

"For the new stuff, y'know.. not often. Lately it seems like things have been a little more topsy turvy, but we had Nsilo - may she rest in peace - for a while. Birdie's only really in the top spot because she was under her wing for a while." She runs fingers through her hair during a break in line work, so as to not jostle around so much. "I just provide emotional support and try to help steer us clear of the Lomidze weirdos."

Because if it could do that to an immortal beauty’s face, imagine the other kinds of wounds it might leave behind. Would she use it on her prodigal brother? Mmm, maybe. If anyone asked, she’d probably say yes. He deserved it, Frankie thought. Deserved every bad thing waiting patiently in the dark with his name on it.

Lara’s question earned a small shrug from delicate shoulders and an answer too brutal to come this easy. "Just a little bored, told myself I’d come make fun of you.” Her hands drifted up to her hair, fixing a few loose curls with idle care “But that’s getting boring too."

There were plenty of other distractions waiting for her, but before she disappeared back into the pulse of the crowd, Frankie glanced over her shoulder at the younger vampire. "Tell me, Lara—" her voice a soft tickle, "you don’t love him anymore, do you?”

The him in question makes her narrow her eyes, back still frozen and locked in place while the muscles in her cheeks twitch around the aching, itching pain of her scars. Garrick knows about Birdie, and knows she'd long since moved on. Had they not talked? Her gaze flickers from Frankie's face down to her fingers, where they twirl, before she starts to disappear.

"You should ask him." She starts, following after her - despite the desperate need to turn tail and run. "We've talked, have you?" But she clicks her tongue against her teeth and answers the question anyways - "I'm not in love with him, no." She cares for him, deeply, and always will - which is why her anger at him ate her alive for so long. That care has made it so she can talk to him without wanting to remove his head from his shoulders, why they can hunt together, and why she doesn't feel the need to explain herself to Frankie.

What is going on between them that she feels the need to blame it on Lara?

"But he knows that. We're friends, Frankie. I know he loves me, and he knows I'm with Birdie."

Lara's doing calculus and she's struggling with long division. It's how she feels right now, with everything in their lap. She still doesn't know who or what killed Nsilo. A werewolf, probably - or - she wonders if there's more than one of those fucking knives out there.

"I just..." Her lip twitches in a sort of uncomfortable sneer, like she's been caught in a spotlight. What is the difference? Just keep shuffling out foot-soldiers until they send some grizzled vet in with enough scars that Birdie feels like murder's more justified?

Murder that - until recently, she had little problem with.

Her eyes pass to the hunter, and then to the scars an Lara's face. Back again. She nods.

The scars pull taut as she talks and her face shifts through expressions, and she pinches at her cheek lightly, stroking some of her blonde hair back. This is a new world they're living in, Birdie bearing so much more weight than she might have ever wanted to.

But they have so much to worry about - hunters, werewolves attacking their leaders. There's going to be a lot more at their doorstep. "So, we make sure to keep them out in the first place - reach out to other clans or some witches? Get some wards up?"