@cj-amused #9 “Is the lipstick on my cheek really necessary?”
They fought. Not each other as much as anyone else. Occasionally they got on each other’s Nerves. Carver wasn’t a soldier. He’d been raised by the streets, and then for a few years by a hippie in a record store. Hannah’d been trained to make war against anything hungry that bumped in the night. But the last time they’d actually fist-brawl fought was some flirting when they first met. Right now they were fighting Brujah. About 5, maybe 6? They were really friggin’ fast.
Carver was breathing heavy. He didn’t need to, he knew that. But it felt nice to take in the air and let it out. Hannah was too. This little group of Camarilla Brujah were really pissing them off. Carver’d tucked the punch daggers away and slid on a pair of spiked knuckledusters. Hannah’d gone from shotgun to side-arm and Bowie knife. She leaned over to give Carver a kiss on the cheek.
“Is the lip-print on my cheek really nexessary?”
He asked, smirking playfully. Never let them see your fear. They were outnumbered, but not outmatched.
“Darlin’ we’re surrounded by a group of Brujah, some of which are very attractive. And you have spiky blue hair and a leather jacket.”
She smiled back to him. Spinning the knife in her hand.
“I’m just markin’ what’s mine so they know~.”
They were both laughing loud and wild and free as they rushed into the fray.
