#|| mina

"Ah, oh,"

Mina was used to interacting with people who made her feel short-- at just a shade over five foot tall, this was a relatively easy task. Now, however, stood a gorgeous woman who absolutely towered over her.

Suddenly, the wooden stake she held seemed inadequate.

[lavender-skinned demon or no, she felt a blush rise in her cheeks.]

"A taxi might be cleaner, darling." Mina winced, having been just beyond the puddle-tsunami caused by a passing automobile that had struck Molly full-on, drenching her.

"Dinner, darling. Pasta. Do you like Italian food?"

Mina was unphased by the firearm, aside from being a mild annoyance that might ruin her suit-- and it was a nice suit. Dior didn't run cheap, and Mina was loathe to pay a Friday night visit to the local medical examiner's office. And so she kept her hands visible; one now moving to clasp her stomach.

"I just noticed the little bodega on the corner as I was on my way here. Did you know that was there? Anyway. Lovely old couple, and the food smells amazing. I've always been weak for gnocci." She offered a smile, but kept her eyes pointedly upon Molly's weapon.

"Lose your phone or something?"

Nothing suspicious here. Just little ol' me. Mina sipped from her can of hard cider, seated upon a grade-school swing beneath the sodium lights. Not much taller than a student herself these days, she looked like any other college student out seeking fun on a September evening. Playgrounds were desolate places after dark; colorful bars and swings and climbing things now casting twisted shadows over the soft-pebbled ground. Devoid of children's laughter or the caring supervision of trusted adults.

This made them perfect hunting grounds.

She blew out a cloud of hoary breath after her drink, gripping the chain to one side of her swing as she gestured to the newcomer with the aluminum cider can.

"Are you always this off-putting? Or have you spent too much time with that undertaker? One must do for herself at some point, Chuckaboo."

There was air on this level, and the floor seemed more-or-less complete, and so Mina had taken to following Molly through the labyrinthine Vault. It was almost like visiting a museum's back rooms; where oddity and awe-inspiring sat shelved, shrouded, and gathering dust.

She shone her torch along the ceiling and walls, studying their surroundings. This was much lower within the substructure than she had previously explored, and Mina's appetite for discovery had been whet.

|| glimpses.

December 1922.

Each breath burned in her chest, fingers icy and numb-- scraped and bleeding as she searched for purchase along the smooth stone ledge. Rain pelted her face and chest, making the silk of her dress cling heavily about her thighs, restricting movement. A darting glance back at the window-- curtains whipping in the storm winds.

Another inching step taken along the ledge; that far window a glowing bastion of safety. Another apartment. Back pressed to stone, she squints against the rain. Another step. Closer.

And then the window slides open and it is not safety, but those soulless, fanged creatures from the party.

[if only gin were legal in this country, she wouldn't be in this position!]

"Come back inside, you're embarrassing yourself!" One calls, extending her satin-gloved hand.

Mina inches back-- seeking the window she had escaped through-- only to stop as another vampire leans in the sill. His eyes catch the light, reflecting it back. Trapped, she considers her options, looking over the edge at the streetcars below. The glittering reflection of lights on water; sounds muted by the rain.