#withpoison

The Student doesn't often see someone come through who pings immediately as a problem. The employee-only area is rarely of interest to the kind of thugs who roam around down in the building's parking garage - they're usually just squatting, wanting a private place to smoke, drink or get into arguments with each other.

It's been happening less and less lately... she might need to see if she can get another job like this elsewhere. Still, though, she does have a job to do besides menace the criminal element. At first, she's just prompting Aki to maybe stop staring at her so openly, but...

"Uh... I don't really know what to tell you."

Skylar doesn't really to spread the fact that they're a vampire, but how do they explain that poison doesn't really work on them.... Strong immune system?

Kyle wasn’t totally healed up yet. Wasn’t sure there would be much he could do if someone looked like they were trying to finish him off. The more she spoke the more uneasy he got. She was far too happy talking about the idea of someone suffering from those effects. Kyle wasn’t one for making someone suffer before death. He had seen enough of that in his life. He tried to avoid killing other people if he could help him. Didn’t always work out.

Blinking he visibly relaxed when she seemed to explain that she didn’t have the plan of poisoning him right now. Still the thought was there, and he didn’t plan to lose track of anything he would eat or drink when around her. Didn’t sound like she was here to finish him off. Which was almost a surprise in itself.

         Begging The Voice to stop seemed to no longer be an option, baseless prayers barely a comfort under the sinister influence she fought against bravely. Tears turned into streams, running down her cheeks with an urgency they didn’t have the need for in months, a year. She would not be let go ever since the first death anniversary, unveiled to something inhuman attempting to have her damage and peel her skin off as if she was nothing but a fruit to be eaten, devoured wholly by Evil.

         She burst inside the small church she passed by in her distressed state with a loud thud, then a sudden silence the most beautiful music to her ears. Only then could she breathe out of relief, eyes blinking slowly as she tried to calm herself, convince her mind that everything was alright now and she was safe from the sound of the evil, but her body knew better. This was not over yet, none of it was.

          ❛       So, do you hate me? You do, right?       ❜           Claire blurted those words out, no longer scanning her own reflection in that overly colourful bathroom, loud music and trained (though slightly different) voices still heard from the reserved rooms around. She no longer cared about coming back there as soon as possible, instead demanding to know what did she do so wrong to her co-worker. They were supposed to be a team; no, they needed to be a team in order for everything to work out the correct way, but it was like she kept on being denied any attempt at connection, be it at rehearsals, their dressing room or literally at just about anywhere else.

There's comfort found in routine. Laying within something as simple as a mere sip of tea. Robust, sharp, full-bodied familiarity. — An assassin's favorite, black with a touch of Assam.

No unpredictability.

The cup of Oolong currently warming her hands however? It donned a flavor palette as erratic as they come. – Vast range of characteristics, each taste like playing roulette with what you'll get today.

In her line of work, the atypical partner on joint missions was all the same. Amateur or skilled asset. Crippling narcissist or idealistic vigilante. Modus operandi at times varying more than the number of fish in the sea, stars in the sky... or worse, the number of lives on their heads.

And yet somehow despite the idiosyncrasies the experience could always be summed up as one thing:

A nuisance.

Nina preferred matters brisk. Swift, precise execution ending in being paid her dues. Learning another's methods takes time, profiling motives even more so, and already this occasions necessary crutch was wasting what little they had.

Ten minutes after the agreed rendezvous and here the blonde was, waiting among the mutually silent atmosphere of the riverside tavern. Replacing her cup of tea with a compact mirror to catch a glimpse of a almost coequal serpent over her shoulder.

Slithering away while she could only sigh.

❝I gave you the courtesy of meeting on your home turf... The least you could do is minimize the initial observation..❞

▸   @withpoison​   ⟶   ❛  someone shot at me, but missed. no biggie.  ❜   ╱   (  a sliver of darkness , accepting .  )

And for once, it wasn’t even Jarod doing the shooting.  It was becoming more and more common in Petria to run into that kind of trouble with growing civil unrest.  Ten years ago, there had been an attempt at a revolution that killed most of the Brigades and sent the rest of them into hiding, and now they were coming back up to the surface, evidently having learned nothing from the last time.  That meant the citizens of Petria faced plenty of danger from rocks being thrown through windows and shootings and whatever else.