HEY, i think i just saw IRIS HAWKINS walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the TWENTY-SIX YEAR OLD is working as a/an BARTENDER AT MEAN-EYED CAT BAR and lives in SOLSTICE APARTMENTS. given they are QUICK THINKING but DEPRESSIVE, it’s likely that they ARE a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that IRIS TRIED TO KILL HER MAKER BUT DOESN’T KNOW IF SHE’S DEAD OR NOT and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to LILITH BY HALSEY and you’ll know why they’re called THE FACELESS PHANTOM. ☾ .⭒˚ danielle rose russell. cis woman + she/her. lesbian + scorpio.
BIO + STATS + CONNECTIONS + PINTEREST + PLAYLIST
BASIC INFO
iris grew up in the midwest to a deeply religious father, who happened to be a pastor and her mom was about as helpful as a wet noodle ( due to her own abuse at the hands of the man so iris doesn’t hold any ill-will against the woman ) when it came to defending her against her mean as a viper dad. her dad being of the mindset “spare the rod, spoil the child” and “children should be seen and not heard.”
she fought back in anyway she could, wearing the wrong dress to church, the wrong shoes, sneaking out with her friends, smoking- ANYTHING to feeling something other than smothered by her fathers love for the lord ( what’s the saying, there’s no hate like christian love? )
by the time she turned 13 she knew she was well and truly fucked because while most of her friends were talking about all of the cute boys, she was thinking about one girl in her class- the way her laugh sounded like bells and her eyes caught in the light. Iris couldn’t help but scratch in church till she bled every time her father brought up lgbt folks and how they were sinners.
cut to the night it all went bad- all she can really remember after getting caught tangled up with her friend is violence- just flashes of her mother waling about her father going to far and her father screaming and hitting and cursing her- the cross she wore being yanked off her neck.
after all of that she woke up without a home and she wandered till she made it to las vegas and there she worked in shitty little diners and stayed in motels that looked like hell until she met Anna, wrapped up in like a bow she should have run screaming.
before it was too late Iris found herself trapped and stuck with the women, bound to the house and to the pale woman- until the day Anna went to far and almost killed her.
Another blur of memories she just remembers the taste of pennies in her mouth and feeling floaty, feverish, and down right awful before she fell asleep- by the time she awoke she wasn’t the prey anymore.
She used her skills to make job out of it, making good money until she couldn’t do the blood anymore- memories of her captor haunting her.
adonis is still sat in the back, feeling even more woozy than he had initially as he can still feel the blood trickling down his neck. the source? well, he isn't really sure and that's definitely a problem. wouldn't he have noticed if something had happened to him? it's not like he hit his head on anything, and as previously stated, that's too much blood to just be coming from a bug bite.
when he sees the lasso swinging, he takes it upon himself to dive out the other door and begin running, screaming out for help. of course, no one seems to hear him – just his luck. or even worse, there is people who hear him, they just don't care.
he stops for a moment, then cuts and runs in the opposite direction. suddenly, there's a feeling of pressure on his arm and his eyes widen. though before he can turn to see who or what is grabbing onto him, he is suddenly yanked hard the other way.
jibril stares in horror as the scene unfolds before him, mouth still hanging open even seconds later. their heart is hammering so hard it feels like it's going to break loose from their chest. all they wanted was a nice, relaxing evening with his friends, why did it have to go this way?
blood rushes in his ears as he looks around, 'do something, anything' rings through his head. they can't just sit here like a deer in the headlights, waiting for something to happen. "i'm with dominic, screw this." he manages to squeak out, the first words he's uttered in the entire event.
they scramble towards the car door, clumsily clambering over iris, not caring how much they bump into her. his hand makes contact with the door handle and he pulls it open. jibril falls onto the gravel ungracefully as the door swings open, knees making hard contact with the ground, and an "oof." escapes them. right now, he can't be bothered to care about the stinging he feels in his knees and palms, the only thought in his head is 'escape.'
they manage to locate adonis as they get to their feet, instinctively reaching out towards their friend and yanking them towards another vehicle. jibril stares at adonis, his face an expression that pleads “let’s get out of here.” he's relieved to find that one of the nearby cars is unlocked, and surprisingly vacant, letting out an exhale when the door opens. he quickly climbs into the drivers' seat, but there's one issue: he can't find the keys. jibril pats the area of the car around him frantically, searching, but he can't locate them.
he makes eye contact with adonis, face pale as he utters the words. "i don't know how we're gonna get outta here, the keys aren't in the car."
The rope snags around his chest, rough material digging into the skin at his arms he's yanked off his feet, air being knocked out of him. Dominic didn't wait for the air to return to his lungs. As he's drug across the dirt, rocks catching the skin on his back, he fumbles with his pockets. He has a knife in there, but it's too deep. His arms can't reach the right angle to wiggle his fingers between the fabric. He inhales with a gasp and tries to grab at the rope instead. He's fucked. At least until he's close enough to use his legs.
The second Dominic got snagged by the rope and started getting dragged across the gravel, Iris had the deeply inconvenient realization that she was apparently going to have to get involved. Because clearly her evening needed a homicidal cowboy vampire. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped, already moving before the words had fully left her mouth. Jibril and Adonis were scrambling toward the other car, panic exploding through the drive-in lot while Dominic disappeared behind the horse in a spray of dirt and gravel. Iris only spared enough attention to make sure the two of them got inside before she turned sharply on her heel and started running straight toward the thing dragging him away. The vampire looked back at her then, red eyes glowing beneath the brim of its hat and unbelievably grinned.
“Oh, absolutely the fuck not.” Her boots slammed hard against the dirt as she picked up speed. The horse shrieked as it tore across the lot, Dominic still fighting against the rope behind it, but Iris focused on the rider instead. One target. One problem at a time. She launched herself upward without slowing. One hand caught the vampire by the front of his coat while the other hooked hard into his shoulder and suddenly both of them were getting ripped sideways out of the saddle. The impact hit hard enough to rattle her teeth as they crashed into the dirt together, gravel biting through her jeans. The cowboy recovered fast. Too fast. Its teeth flashed the second it twisted toward her with a snarl, clawed hand catching the front of her jacket and shoving her backward hard enough to tear fabric. Iris hit the ground, rolled once, then immediately grabbed a fistful of dirt and hurled it directly into the bastard’s face.
Before it could recover, Iris surged forward again. This time she hit it low Her shoulder slammed into its middle hard enough to drive it flat onto its back, and she immediately followed through; knee planting into its chest while one hand wrapped around its throat and forced its head hard into the gravel. the creature thrashed violently beneath her, horse screaming nearby as the rope finally loosened enough for Dominic to break free. “Stay down,” she hissed. The vampire swung at her once more and Iris ripped a wooden stake from the ground, swinging it forward with all of her might. “Well” she muttered, slightly out of breath now “This officially beats the worst drive-in experience I’ve ever had.” The fight seemed to leave the creature all at once; Its body suddenly slackened beneath her, red eyes dimming as it slumped bonelessly sideways against the saddle of the still-panicked horse. For one strange second, the entire drive-in lot went quiet except for the animal’s frantic breathing. Then the horse bolted.
“Oh, come on—” The steed tore wildly across the gravel lot without its rider properly seated, reins flying loose behind it while Iris pushed herself back onto her feet. She barely had time to turn before the horse barreled directly toward the vehicle Jibril and Adonis had taken shelter in. The collision hit with a deafening metallic crunch. The hood of the car caved inward from the impact...but the horse didn’t stop. Instead, the entire thing burst apart. Not blood. Not bone. Particles. Billions of glittering pieces exploded outward into the night air like ash caught in neon light, scattering across the parking lot in waves before slowly beginning to disappear altogether. The cowboy’s body dissolved with it, collapsing into the same strange burning fragments until there was nothing left except drifting sparks fading into darkness. Iris stared at the empty space for a beat too long.
Bandit wasn't too worn out after a night on the pole and a bump of the white stuff in the dressing rooms. Her penchant for dabbling came and went as much as other cheap thrills, the sole vice to stick to her like glue being the razzle-dazzle of the slot machines when they turned over and over and eventually squealed with the jackpot. Adrenaline was her friend, although she resembled a hot mess with makeup blotched from here to there to everywhere, and the gym clothes she threw on when she discarded her skimpy outfit that smelled like body odor were sticking to her glimmery arms and chest. She didn't have to looking through the menu before one of the night shift waitresses noted down her usual coffee and took off. The rush had been waning, exhilaration melting into the hot pavement outside the building. The sound of familiar voice struck her out of it, and she looked over to lock eyes with her ex-girlfriend.
Bandit did what Bandit always did best: pretend that it didn't bother them at all, grinning like they'd found an old friend and hadn't dug up a wound that hurt as deeply as the fresh salt that had been originally poured into it. "Well, if it isn't my favorite girl. How ya been?" she asked, averting her eyes and lingering dilation of pupils, training instead on the lukewarm cup of coffee that had been sat down in front of her and scooping it up in both palms, running her hands over it. Lips pursed, and there was an awkwardness that she simply didn't subscribe to. So, she didn't. "Oh, hunny, no night is worse than yours from how I hear it," there it was, harsher tongues softened by New Orleans drawl, and waving a hand, "I'll be right as all rain after I get my hands on a stack'a those hotcakes and carry on my way to the casinos."
For a moment, Iris just looked at her.
Not startled, she’d learned a long time ago that Las Vegas was too small a city for ghosts to stay buried forever, but quiet in the way people got when an old ache suddenly sat down across from them wearing glitter and a familiar smile. Bandit still moved like a lit match; even exhausted, even messy around the edges, she carried that same reckless brightness that used to pull Iris in before she knew better than to mistake chaos for warmth. The corner of Iris’ mouth lifted softly at favorite girl, though there was something bittersweet tucked beneath it. “Funny,” she murmured, wrapping both hands around her coffee mug. “I was just thinking the diner finally felt peaceful.”
Dry enough to tease. Gentle enough not to wound. Her eyes drifted over Bandit for a second; smeared makeup, restless hands, too much energy sitting under tired skin. Iris knew the signs by now. She always had at the comment about her night, she gave a small huff of amusement through her nose. “Oh, so we’re taking emotional hostages immediately. Good. Saves time.”But there was no real bite to it.Just familiarity.The kind that survived even after the relationship didn’t.“I’ve been alright,” she answered after a moment, voice calmer now. “Quiet, mostly.”Which, for Iris, meant healing in ways she didn’t quite know how to explain yet. “And you,” she added, tilting her head slightly. “look like somebody’s been trying very hard not to think for at least twelve consecutive hours.” A pause. “You ever sleep anymore, Bandit?” The question came softer than the others had. Not accusatory; just worried in that dangerous, old way she probably shouldn’t have still been.
It was another late night outing trying to seek vampires. He had worked a long shift at the hospital and really wanted to go home. But in his older years, he’s been slacking on hunting. It didn’t look good for a seasoned slayer to slack off when he’s supposed to be a good ‘mentor’ for young slayers. But yet he still took ease on hunting. Maybe working in the hospital and slaying was finally getting to him. He enjoyed both. He didn’t want to give it up.
Grrr gloop goes his stomach. As he walks by the waffle cottage, his stomach decides to remind him that he hasn’t eaten in a few hours. Maybe he should eat something before he goes home and forgets again. So he does go inside and looks around, trying to find a spot to eat. It seemed pretty empty for late at night. Which should’ve surprised him, but honestly he was looking for quiet. He wants a table alone, but his eyes catches a glimpse of the woman sitting alone. He wants to ignore her, but her openness to a complete stranger drags him towards her; taking a seat across from her where she had gestured towards. “Yea you can definitely say that,” he tells her. He looks down at his clothes and sees a bit of blood on his scrubs. Plus some on his hands. He reaches into his pocket to pull out hand sanitizer. Flashes of a dead vampires races through his mind as he remembers the kill he made. “It’s been a long night in the ER. It actually feels good to sit. But I wouldn’t say the way I look is impressive. Exhausting maybe. What brings you here late at night, huh?”
Iris noticed the blood almost before he did, the faint smell making her nose twitch as she locked on to the faint burgundy substance, not enough to alarm most people; just enough to suggest the kind of night that settled into someone’s bones long after their shift ended. Her eyes flicked briefly to the stained scrubs, then to the hand sanitizer a quiet observation tucked carefully behind an easy expression. “The ER?” she repeated softly. “Yeah. That’ll do it.” She sat curled slightly around her coffee mug, one elbow resting against the table while the diner’s dim yellow lights painted everything in tired gold. “At least here nobody’s actively bleeding on you,” she added lightly a faint smile touched the corner of her mouth.
At his question, Iris glanced down at her untouched plate for a moment before looking back up at him. “I like places that stay open late, there’s something honest about them.” Her fingers traced absently against the ceramic mug. “People stop pretending they’re okay around two in the morning.” The words came easily, calm and thoughtful rather than heavy. “You can tell a lot about someone by where they end up when they’re exhausted.” For a second her gaze lingered on him a little too knowingly like she saw more than just an overworked doctor trying to survive another shift. Something tired sat deeper in him than the hospital alone. But she didn’t push. Instead, she tilted her head slightly.
Alice had been collecting evidence of the Nightstalker for over a year now and while she didn't have her murder board complete with red string at work (that was at home, of course), she had plenty of documents to sift through and she had nearly lost track of time. In fact, she was in such a flow state, she didn't even realize that Iris was standing there until she said something. You've been here all day, haven't you? Looking up, she gave a guilty smirk and glanced at the coffee in front of her. "Please tell me this isn't decaf," she chuckled. She was grateful to see Iris--she'd almost completely fumbled the friendship a few months ago and she was determined to not let that happen again. Patting the chair that was near her desk, beckoning her friend to join her, she smiled and said "Thank you so much for checking in--I promise I'm taking care of myself. Work's just kept me busy, that's all." She glanced at the clock--4:30. She didn't need to pick Rhea up until 6.
Mind if I keep you company for a while? "Of course not," she smiled. "I've missed you, I've been so busy." Of course, Alice being busy with work was nothing new and there were certainly times where she wondered if it were all worth it. Perhaps she should trade in her typewriter and get a boring office job where she could shut off her brain and go home to her daughter at a decent hour. But she knew damn well she'd go stir crazy with a job like that. "How are things?" she asked, genuinely curious. It had taken a while for the two to warm up to one another again and the journalist couldn't blame her for that. She'd accused her of awful things and it had been in a moment of desperation--still, there was no excuse for it and she was ashamed to think she'd ever thought Iris capable of committing such atrocities.
A soft laugh escaped Iris at the question about the coffee as she settled into the chair beside Alice’s desk, fingers running through her hair for a moment as she just smiled. “I would never do that to you,” she said, calm amusement threading through her voice. “I’m concerned about your wellbeing, not actively trying to ruin your evening.” The newsroom around them carried on in the background; phones ringing somewhere farther down the hall, the steady clacking of typewriters, the low murmur of exhausted reporters trying to hit deadlines before sunrise. Iris had always liked the sound of places like this. There was something comforting about people chasing truth, even messy truth.
I’ve missed you her expression softened almost imperceptibly. “I missed you too.” Simple. Honest. No accusation tucked into it and no lingering sharpness from the months before. Whatever hurt had existed between them had worn down into something quieter now, something carefully rebuilt instead of ignored. Her eyes drifted over the scattered papers on Alice’s desk for a moment before returning to her face. “And I believe you’re taking care of yourself,” she added gently. “I just also think your definition of that and mine are probably very different.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Things are…” She paused briefly, considering. “Better than they were.” Which was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “I’ve been keeping to myself more, trying to make better choices for once.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward the files spread across the desk again.
It takes a lot for something to drain Ace's energy. He's usually the last one to get knocked out in any type of activity. However, having to do autopsies back to back since yesterday can suck the life out of anyone. He's taking a well-deserved dinner since he had to do overtime.
Technically, he's still on duty but he feels like he'd go insane if he stayed there for a minute longer. He's craving burger and fries with a well-earned chocolate milkshake. He's going to need all the sugar he can get, then some coffee to really keep him awake.
As he entered the diner, he didn't expect to see a familiar face. Iris' comment about him having a rough night made Ace groan, "Please do not remind me," he replies back in a weary voice, nearly dragging himself to the empty seat across, "I've been working shit hours recently."
He motions to one of waiters to take his order before replying back to Iris again, "It's not that impressive, you'd get tired too if you've been up for nearly 48 hours doing nothing but autopsies and paper work." he sighs as he rests his chin at the palm of his hand, "And you? Hopefully your night is not as shitty as mine?"
Iris watched him cross the diner with the kind of expression reserved for injured stray animals and people who insisted they were fine while actively dissolving in front of you. Her eyes narrowed slightly as he sat down. “…Forty-eight hours?” She repeated it gently, not judgmental exactly; more like she was trying to figure out whether she needed to stage an intervention or simply steal his car keys. She waited while he ordered, fingers loosely wrapped around her coffee mug.
“Autopsies and paperwork sounds like a very specific circle of hell.” The corner of her mouth lifted faintly, she tilted her head a little. “You okay?” Not in the automatic way people asked. Not the kind where the answer was supposed to be fine. Her gaze lingered on him for a second before she looked away again, glancing out the diner window at the empty road. “My night’s alright.” Which was true enough.
She gave a small shrug. “Quiet. Uneventful. I came here because my apartment felt too small and I wasn’t ready to go home yet.” Then she looked back at him and her expression softened. “But I can confidently say it’s better than yours.” A beat. “…Ace, you know sleep deprivation starts causing hallucinations after long enough, right?” Her tone stayed calm, conversational. “I’m not saying you need to go home.” Another small pause. “I am saying if you start telling me the ketchup bottle is talking to you, I’m taking your keys and ordering you pie."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY ORDER ISN'T READY YET? I called that shit in like, an hour ago. I don't really care if there's one fuckin' cook back in that kitchen at this hour; I'm not askin' him to go raise the chicken himself at the farm himself before making a couple orders of eggs." Arguing with an annoyed Stella Fawn would have been a risky game at any point in her life, as she certainly didn't pushback well, but the hostess meeting her back with a bored expression over would have been the only thing saving her from an even worse verbal lashing than were they to try to argue with a hangry and sleep-lacking mother were she instead to try to argue back. "Spend too damn much money at this place for this shit," she huffed under her breath when she all but ungraciously plopped her ass down into the booth across from Iris before even registering the invitation, after raising an incredibly polite middle finger to said cook she was complaining about when passing by the serving window into the kitchen. "Gee, thanks, but I guess that's what I get since my twins have started a pact of takin' turns on who is gonna need a change the second my eyes close. I'd make my own damn eggs if I could trust myself to turn on a stove right now without burnin' the trailer down." Long fingernails that were unusually devoid of her normal halfway chipped off black polish tapped against the table in impatience loud enough to hopefully annoy the waitress into offering her a cup on the house, before deadpanning, "You gonna share your woes t'make me feel better, or you just haunting this place at this hour for the fantastic company?"
Iris watched the whole performance unfold with the same quiet attention she’d spent years perfecting specifically for Stella; not interrupting, not reacting too quickly, just letting the storm pass through. Her eyes flicked once toward the kitchen window after the middle finger, then briefly to the diner entrance before settling back on Stella as she dropped into the booth. There was a pause before the corner of her mouth curved upward.“…For what it’s worth,” she said mildly, reaching over to slide the untouched basket of toast closer to Stella instead. “I don’t think he actually was planning on raising the chickens himself. So there’s still hope.”
Her tone stayed dry and warm in that familiar way that never seemed bothered by anything. At the mention of twins, something in her expression softened further and she leaned back slightly; one arm resting along the booth while she looked Stella over- the absent nail polish, the edge in her voice, the kind of exhaustion Iris knew by now wasn’t solved by sleep. “Oof. The twins.” She nodded once, sympathetic but calm a small pause as she took a sip of her coffee.
“I think I would be just as tired as you.”There was affection in it; old affection, easy and worn in. At the question, Iris looked down at the coffee in front of her for a second. Her fingers turned the mug a few degrees. “No woes tonight,” she said automatically. Then she exhaled softly through her nose and gave a small shake of her head. “Actually, that’s not true.” Her eyes drifted briefly toward the window again. “I’m making a large life change.” She said it casually enough that someone listening wouldn’t hear anything in it, but Stella knew her better than that. “I'm trying be a good example for my sister.” Another pause, her thumb traced the rim of the mug. “If I'm being totally honest it's not just for my sister though” She gave a small shrug like she regretted saying even that much. “It’s fine. I’m being careful.” A beat. “I just wanted coffee and to sit somewhere that wasn’t my apartment.” Her mouth curved faintly.
it seemed like a common theme for jibril as of late was trying new things. so, here he was, simultaneously having two experiences for the first time. 1. going to the drive-in, something they knew was a classic american activity. 2. seeing a western at a movie theater. they didn't know much about the genre besides it involved cowboys, but they were willing to give it a shot.
he'd managed to get a couple of his friends to tag along with him. they had all piled into a car together. jibril's already invested in the movie, devouring handful after handful of popcorn absentmindedly. but, their hand freezes mid-way to their mouth when they notice something odd. it seems like the cowboy's eyes are turning red, is it just his imagination? is the cowboy somehow getting closer too? they feel a chill run down their spine, terror clouding their senses.
he spins around to face the others in the backseat, inadvertently spilling the tub of popcorn into iris' lap. jibril wants to ask 'did you see that too?' but can't find the words, mouth opening and closing a few times. instead, they notice something even more horrifying, words written on the back windshield. he raises a trembling finger, pointing at the inscription.
adonis is not quite sure how he ended up in this situation but truthfully? he's not exactly complaining either. i mean, everyone here is cool enough and while westerns aren't really up his alley, he isn't paying the movie much mind anyways. okay, maybe he's had a few too many drinks and a spliff.. or two. but why not, right? they're supposed to be having a good time after all.
he chuckles as he tosses his arm around the back of the seats, leaning in slightly to the person next to him. though he's currently got his sights set on someone in particular, there's no harm in a little flirting when out with friends.. right? he's using one of his best lines when the passenger turns around to look at them.
or at least that's what he thinks.
he's puzzled by jibril's expression, but still, he's annoyed. he's trying to set a mood here.
“what gives? you jealous or somethin'?” his tone is only slightly feisty.
Andrea hadn't been to many drive in movies, she always thought that they were something that was only in media and not a real thing people did anymore. They didn't have them back home, so the blonde was interested in seeing what was on offer that night. Unfortunately for her, there wasn't any room left for her to sit in the truck, so instead decided to sit in the bed of it. In a way, she thought of it as a win since she could lay down when she wanted to.
They were more of a horror person, but westerns reminded her of her grandfather and how they would watch them together. This one she had never heard of but settled in none the less, watching from where she was, taking a small sip of her drink before eating some popcorn. The movie was just getting good when she could hear the sounds of voices raising from inside the truck. She hated when people talked during a movie, so she thought to take some action.
Putting down her popcorn, she crawled over to the window, giving it a knock with her hand, loud enough for them to here. "Will you shut up, some are trying to watch the movie." She groaned as she pulled her hand back, ready to dig in to her popcorn again. That's when she noticed it, her hand was wet, looking down at her hand, her eyes widened, red, her hand was red.
Her eyes darted to the window once again, frozen in fear at the words she was seeing. I've been waiting for you written in blood, she couldn't scream, no matter what she did. Part of her wanted to bang on the window for help, but her flight reflexes kicked in. She backed away, her hands to her head as she pulled her knees to her body. "This is a nightmare, this is a nightmare." She spoke, unsure if anyone could see or hear her
Letting out an annoyed whine as her request for the popcorn had gone ignored, a puff of anger slipping through her cherry painted lips. Iris wasn't happy to repeat herself as she rolled her eyes. "Jjibril for gods sake share the popcorn, I fucking drove y'all here and didn't even ask for...." She paused for a moment as the popcorn spilled into her lap.
Iris had been half paying attention to the movie before Jibril turned so suddenly, more interested in people than cowboys. The way everyone settled into a night together, the easy conversations between scenes, the comfort of being included in ordinary things. She looked up at Jibril’s face first before she looked where they were pointing. Terror sat strangely on people; she’d lived long enough to recognize the difference between someone joking and someone truly afraid. Her eyes followed their hand to the back windshield.The words sat there in uneven red strokes. I’ve been waiting for you. For a second, she just stared.
Only then did she glance toward the back of the truck where Andrea had gone silent. For a moment she just sat there before her brain finally kicked into gear, turning the keys and pumping the clutch to bring the older truck to life. "Hell the fuck no" She muttered under her breath as she tried to start the engine the writing, the bloody colour splashed with it made every single hair on her head stand up as she finally got the stupid thing started. "Nope nope nope- fucking no." Iris couldn't help but cuss like a sailor, hands shaking a touch as she finally heard the car spring into action and she slammed down on the gas; she didn't want to deal with the thing that made that message.
CLOSED STARTER: @no-one-likes--a-mad-woman ( alice )
LOCATION: the las vegas sun ( newspaper )
TIME: may 17th, 4:30pm
By the time Iris stepped into the offices of the Las Vegas Sun, the evening rush had settled into something quieter. The sharp clatter of typewriters still echoed through the newsroom, mixed with the low hum of tired conversations and the occasional ringing phone, but the chaos from earlier in the day had long since softened. She moved easily through it all, dark heavy leather coat draped over her arm and sunglasses tucked away now that the desert sun had finally disappeared beyond the city skyline. There was something comforting about this place to her ink-stained papers, burnt coffee, overworked reporters chasing stories they cared too much about to leave behind.
She found Alice at her desk exactly where she expected, surrounded by uneven stacks of notes and half-finished pages. Iris lingered nearby for a moment before speaking, letting the quiet settle naturally between them first. “You’ve been here all day, haven’t you?” she asked gently, setting a fresh cup of coffee beside Alice’s elbow without much ceremony. A faint smile touched her mouth as she glanced toward the mess of papers scattered across the desk. “I figured you might forget to take care of yourself if nobody reminded you.” Her tone stayed soft, familiar, the kind that came easy to her, one she used only for the people closest to her. “Mind if I keep you company for a little while?”
OPEN STARTER: ( @boneyardstarters )
LOCATION: waffle cottage.
DATE: mid may, around 3:00am.
Las Vegas never really slept. At three in the morning, the city still buzzed neon-bright outside the diner windows, all flickering signs and tired dreamers stumbling through another endless night. Iris sat tucked into the corner booth with a cup of coffee cooling between her hands, dark eyes following the blur of headlights outside. The jukebox near the counter crackled softly with some old love song from years ago, and for a moment the whole place felt suspended in time; like maybe the rest of the world had stopped moving while Vegas kept spinning.
She looked human enough under the dim lights; a careful smile, leather jacket tossed beside her, exhaustion hidden behind practiced ease. Nobody ( at least she damn well hoped ) here knew what she was, and she preferred it that way. The waitress had stopped asking if she wanted a refill almost an hour ago, but Iris still came here most nights for the comfort of noise and company she didn’t have to explain herself to. When the bell above the diner door rang, her attention drifted up instinctively toward the newest arrival. A small smile tugged at her mouth as she slid a fry absentmindedly around the plate in front of her. “You look like you’ve had a worse night than I have,” she said gently, motioning toward the empty seat across from her. “That’s honestly kind of impressive.”
THE ONE THING THAT BOTHERED PETRA THE MOST WAS ABANDONMENT. It had been a stain on her perfect life ever since she was young. Her mother had left her without a word, only to show up again as if nothing had happened years down the line. Her older sister had abandoned the role of heir. Her younger sister had abandoned her role of sister the moment she took Petra's life. Her life centered around that concept, and it morphed how she viewed her relationships. She learned that love was possession--- that she needed to dig her nails into skin to keep people from leaving. It wasn't healthy, but it was the only form of affection she had known.
And Iris was no exception. Petra saw her as an extension of herself--- a shadow made to trail after her and act with her same intentions. She saw a kindred spirit in Iris that she didn't often find with others, but the more the duo spent together, the more she felt that bond drifting away. She had tucked that unnerved feeling at the back of her mind, but it was brought to the surface when Amala shared her suspicions about the girl's true loyalty.
And so, Petra Weiss showed up at Iris' doorstep unannounced. She chose to knock on the door rather than barge in, filing her nails as she waited for the familiar face to greet her. Upon seeing the door open, she grinned, "Iris, my love." Faux softness slipped through her voice as she watched her target, "I think you and I need to have a chat."
Iris didn't know it would get back to Petra so fast she didn't know that, but in truth she had been walking around with a cat tattoo on her back working at the bar they work at and being friends with them she was an idiot. So having Petra in her apartment standing there holding her was a whole other thing "Violet get the fuck back to your room" was the only thing she got out of her mouth before she felt Peta's claw's on her on her face, a pissed off look forming on her face.
This has been her house, her territory, so for her whatever to come in uninvited pissed Iris off made her skin boil she didn't like being told what to do in fact anymore; so now having to be told we need to have a chat was probably true but she needed to be the one to do it.
Iris had found a family, had found people worth fighting for so claws are no claws Iris wasn't going down without a fight she was done. " So nice of you to welcome you yourself into my apartment"
THEY NORMALLY DIDN'T TALK TO PEOPLE SO OPENLY. Lilias had always been nervous and quiet when it came to strangers--- so much so that some people often forgot they were in the room. It made it easy to eavesdrop on conversations and learn pieces of information that could be useful for their boss, but it also meant that forming connections was difficult. They wanted to connect with people and form bonds, but words often got caught in their throat and made them unable to move forward.
"Sugar..." They whispered, a soft smile forming on their lips at the nickname. They weren't used to being noticed, let alone being spoken to with the kindness the girl was showing them. They nodded when the girl mentioned helping them home, "'M like everything where it is too." A blush coated their cheeks as she offered her arm, and Lilias hesitated for a second before her hand curved around the girl's arm. "The Croix Townhouses... that's where I live." They mused, wondering if the girl knew where that was. They paused their thoughts for a second before a sad feeling buried itself in their chest, forcing them to turn to the girl and say quietly, "I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
Iris got the vibe that Lillias was soft spoken- not throwing their words out and taking time with each one. She like it in a person, made her value the person more she would rather the person be quiet then loud and have nothing to say driving people home wasn't something she wasn't used to in fact at the bar they had a system where they would flip a coin for it but this night and with this person Iris did it with no coin flip she's so cute they were and took a chance it had been months since she had tried anything so why Try now plus she would have them rather not get into a gory accident on their way home
Seeing the red blue across their face made it all worth it "yes sugar" repeated with a smile that could be seen for miles she always like the innocent ones but that could be a problem later. "I know exactly where you are" she muttered with a smile starting them walking out of the bar giving a wave to her fellow bartender this wasn't how she expected her night to end but she wasn't mad a " it please don't be start sorry my dear I'm just glad you're getting home safe" Iris smiled as she smoothly walked them out the door
with: @thephantvm
where: skratch records
when: february 20th, 1997
Drake had finally stepped outside for a smoke, after a good half hour to an hour of listening to screaming kids who were determined to run tire tracks into the floor of the store with the pounding of their shoes, round and round. As passionately as the bodyguard adored the thought of having kids of his own, most people readily agreed that a lot of kids were annoying if they weren't yours — Joelle had certainly been influenced by the mischievous set that the happy couple had on them, that was apparent to him. Plus, there had been the strangest sensation of holes burning into the back of his head — the kind that normally only espoused when someone knew him in a bad way, and he was smart enough to make like an egg and scramble. However, he was about five feet out of the store when he heard footsteps directly behind him. Turning around without preamble, he tilted his head back toward the store, indicating the young woman to go back inside. "Hey, I think you might have me mistaken for someone else, so... you should hurry back before anyone misses you." Inconspicuous as could be... almost? Maybe she'd get the memo and the next time she thought to look, he would have disappeared in a puff of smoke from someone's misfiring car engine.
Something about that man made her brain vapor lock for a moment; she stopped play with her god daughter, stopped and just stood watching his every move like a goddamn creep- Iris didn’t know where she knew him from but she knew him. Maybe it was durning the time with her maker or maybe he was someone that rolled around with the cats? Neither hit that spot in her brain until she followed him outside, fully aware of how fucking creepy she was being; she knew that until she figured it out she was never going to feel safe until she knew who he was. It didn’t hit who he was until she watched him light up, the way his hands moved- Iris blinked slowly before glancing up at him and staring at his face, really looking like she was picturing years shaved off before she spoke again.
“No.” She whispered under a hitched breath, a soft noise in the back of her throat almost as Iris blinked again. “You- I looked for years and you didn’t- you weren’t- what?” She kept muttering, her mind trying to keep the plot straight and clear but the wheels quickly coming off the track as she just stared. “I thought you must’ve died-“ She could feel the salt sting her eyes, the warmth of the tears run down her cheeks. “Drake?” She whispered out, voice wounded and soft.
Seeing Iris sporting a shirt that looked like she had a war with the cupcake table had his lips curling before he could get the words out, miming to zip them and then pointing over her shoulder. "You gonna walk over there and show Skunky too? 'Cause she was bawlin' her eyes out before we started, so she could use the laugh," he suggested, his eyes traveling to Stella as he said it to affirm she was still on more stable ground than before the whole shindig had been underway. While she had been all smiles and prancing about on the day of her wedding, he had been split between entertaining guests and fretting over her, perhaps too overzealously and lucky not to earn banishment or a small warning from Stella, at the least. ( Generally, neither of them could fathom being annoyed with one another, but it didn't mean it diminished his concerns he would eventually annoy her batshit. )
Contrasting their last proper conversation in a cramped bar freezer, Cyrek was subtly happier to see the vampire in brighter spirits. He had continued flirting with the idea in private of extending her an invitation to the Cats — soon, she would be without a home she owed loyalty to. Maybe she preferred the idea of being free and unaffiliated for now, if she could maintain it, but it wouldn't hurt them to have an extra hand with the Vitellis scrambling to keep theirs in tact. "Damn, who'd you steal this from?" he teased, accepting the white envelope from her hand and folding it into a small enough square to shove into his ripped denim. "σε αγαπώ. That means 'lick my ass' in Greek." ( With full knowledge that the other bartender had likely caught the tail end of hushed conversations in the back alley behind the bar between the two lovers more than once to guess that he was bullshitting her. )
"I dunno, Stella might've preferred the cat," he jested, dropping the fond nickname he used for his wife when referring her to others, lifting the onesie and giving a long, faux mocking once-over. "Eh, it'll 'ave to do, I guess. You're tellin' me you don't paint with the blood of your enemies in your band of goons livin' in the mines? I thought really old vampires take fuckin' trophies or somethin'. Was Dracula really that flashy arsehole givin' everyone syphilis, lettin' rats take over a village, scorched earth policy?" Maybe that did sound more accurate, on second thought. "Nevermind. You wanna share a cupcake? I'm beat."
With a eyebrow raise and an eye roll you could see from space, Iris laughed shaking her head. “Lovely nickname your wife and the mother of your children there” she replied looking over at Stella with a soft expression on her face for a moment, she had seen the two earlier and watching them made her again honestly thankful that this time her makeup was waterproof ( they always seemingly made her teary eyed and hopeful for love ). “I just might but I’m bringing a cupcake with me as a peace offering that poor woman is going through a lot emotionally- though I think you know that better than most so what am I talking about.” Iris shrugged turning back around.
Giving a shrug and a little sly smile, it was her turn to make the zipping gesture across her lips. But in truth she really had just been saving her tips for awhile, wearing a push-up bra on the night shifts and flirting extra hard for the good cash. She knew money was tight and she knew that feeling too well, giving up her drinking money to people she thought of as family wasn’t a hard thing for her at all. “I love you too Cy, you compete asshat.” She knew well enough he wouldn’t say it but she was happy with it nonetheless with how he said it.
Snapping her fingers together jokingly. “Shit your right- well to my credit…I have none blame the two hours of sleep due to the teenager I now have.” She was fully prepared to chuck her sister under that buss need be. “I honestly don’t know what they do for arts and crafts- personally I just used the paint pen provided by the hosts but if you want old school I can go old school?” Iris couldn’t help but tease until he got to that last part, she kind just stared for a moment before shrugging. “Eh yeah why no that sounds good right now.”
COURTESTY WAS A RARE TRAIT in the jiva girl's world, and so she watched from her periphery as iris took it upon herself to settle fallon's personal effects as a conditioned trait of her own. it wasn't worn on her visage but there was the ghost of warmth that being touched by another's actions provoked, and it paired nicely with the crisp apple liquor. the shot glass clinked atop the bar before she swatted it away with the back of her hand in favour of grabbing the soju bottle itself, appraisal in her gestures.
"we should just neck this," she said, licking her lip. then, eyeing iris across from her, "we need to get you some ass. can't remember the last time someone came 'round for you or any hook-ups in the storage closet. that's too long." swiveling on her cracked pleather barstool, fallon glanced out at the weak crowd currently in the dive bar with none that had any mind to meet her gaze. she waved the arm brandishing the soju to display their selection, "go on, what's your type?" and because she was already enabled by the brunette's care, she nursed from the bottle and only partially to hide her smirk. pointing to the sound of jangling spikes and chains encircling a bony wrist, "what about that guy, with the big beard? if we spray him down in the back alley, i think he could clean up nice."
Damn near spitting out the shot at Fallon's words, Iris just choked for a moment with a large smile coming across her face. There was a reason Fallon was her favorite server and this was at the top of the list, no bullshit and honestly it made her day so much easier ( well at least that the other brought in with her ).
"I've thought about stealing so much booze from this place on bad nights....but alas I don't do the liquor count but I could say it broke...." Iris teased, eyes gleaming with a fire she hadn't had in her for awhile. "also I'm trying, dude I'm trying so hard- but I'm also raising my kid sister so people hear that and they run screaming like my underwear is radioactive I swear." She pouted taking another shot of something less sweet more bitter. "I like pretty punk girls or pretty sad girls- really if you are a cute woman and have trauma I will be into you" Iris chuckled before seeing where Fallon pointed before looking back down at her and taking another shot. "I said women, that is so not my type....plus I'm pretty sure i've met his husband so...But I haven't seen anyone calling for you either missy."
LILIAS HAD NEVER REALLY BEEN DRUNK BEFORE. They were never really the type to go out to a club or bar to blow off steam, and they never really had friends who would force them to drink and socialize in their free time. The most they drank was a glass of wine at the Tsukasa family dinners, mostly to help distract them from their family's arguing and questions related to their political job. The feeling left them chattier and more confident than their usual persona, and they appreciated that the bartender tolerated their rambles instead of ignoring them like most people do.
"It's been a stressful week." They nodded, "But I can't talk to my boss because he just lost his dead and is just as stressed, and I don't really... talk to many other people." It was embarrassing to admit that their boss was probably their closest friend, but it was beginning to look that way. "Except for you." They pointed out, eyes wide as they watched the bartender. Their cheeks flushed when they realized their comment, and they ducked their head when she said she needed to cut them off. "I understand. I um-- should probably head home anyway." They murmured, slipping out of their seat. They stood for approximately three seconds before they began to wobble and leaned over to hold the side of the bar.
Watching them nearly tilt all the way over had Iris on the other side of the counter faster than she wanted to move, her arms wrapping themselves around Lilias body to steady them with a soft smile on her face and a shake of her head. It was clear to the vampire that they didn't drink and if they did they didn't do it to get drunk, which meant it was sober cab time for her. Giving a look to the other bartender and a nod, Iris turned back to the very drunk human next to them with a soft smile.
"It sounds like your boss needs to ease up on you sugar but that's just me." Iris shrugged with a half smile hanging off her red painted lips, eyes twinkling down at the shorter human she had her arms near in case they tried the whole standing thing again. "You understand good but I'm also going to take you home because you just made it clear that if you try walking out of here your going to break something and I really like everything where it is." She joked, bopping Lilias nose and offering an arm. "Lets get you home and you can bitch to me some-more."
It was nice to see a friendly face, especially one so kind. Bambi was a badass for sure but she also had a soft side and that much was clear with how loyal she was. When the brunette confirmed that Cy was most likely home with Stella, she nodded. That didn't surprise her and honestly, that's where he should be. Ever since they'd announced that they were expecting, the witch was trying to send all the good energy their way.
Chuckling when the bartender told her there was no fake sugar in her Coke, she said "Thank you--and thank god for that because people who say it tastes the same are damn liars." When Iris inquired about whether or not she was okay, she toyed with the idea of being honest. Iris didn't know about her...premonitions and she wasn't sure that now, or ever, was the right time to tell her. Giving a small shrug, she tried to find a middle ground. "I have...a feeling," she said, her words heavy with meaning. It wasn't that people didn't know she was a psychic--whether or not they believed it was their problem but anyone who knew her knew she predicted the future (sort of).
What they didn't know was how accurate her forebodings could be when it came to death. And she'd had a dream the night before. Somewhere in the city of Vegas, a king was dead and that death was bound to spark change in unsettling ways. "And it's...not resting with me well."
Putting her bartending key back onto her hip Iris smiled easily, the woman wasn't super nosy nor was she pushy about Cyrek but she was buzzy with an energy that most people wouldn't be able to feel but the vampire could feel- one of the weird perks of now having to feed on blood itself, you could pick up on the little things that most people would miss and it seemed to her that getting Cy was pretty damn important to the other.
Laughing at the other's comment with her head thrown back, throwing the bottle cap away in a blink of an eye Iris was happy and not the fake happy she normally put on for other's around her; the real kind for once though what the other woman said next made her pause for a moment- eyes blinking slowly. She believed in people who could reach out and touch the other side almost as much as she believed in vampire so to say she believed in them, she wasn't going to sit around and act like it wasn't a thing that could happen. "I take it by that look on your face it ain't a good feeling." Iris sighed, happiness could only last so long before it was shot down and she just nodded. "Lemme see if I can get word to one of the cats to get Cyrek's ass over to you because you look freak out sweetheart." Iris smiled softly, scribbling a note on a piece of paper and walking out back really fast.
Catching one of the members she could never remember the name of she handed them the letter and off they took, her coming back inside with a thumbs up. "Might take a second but they'll know."
