Midnight Musings of a Restlessly Active Mind

Icon Photos by: Indea Vanmerllin

[verbalucis]

Ethan x Clair: Love at First Sight

Happy Belated Birthday, Link! Thank you so much for years of character development in rp, oc ship art, and OOC chatter.

Wishing you a wonderful year filled with blessings!

The following scene is a possible scenario of how I imagine our power-couple starting out! Without a doubt, one thing that never changes (regardless of their origin story) is that Ethan is smitten from the start :)

--------

She looked at him like a tiger looks at its prey.

And despite his experience as a flourishing veterinarian, he’d never personally handled large predatory animals. Of course, he had read about them in books, studied their anatomy, but this was still a different matter entirely. She wasn’t an animal - she was a human. At least, he thought she was until he saw the dead cat in her hands, and a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

He set his garbage bag down gently, yet even that slight motion made her shift her stance. Ethan held his hands out in front of him - like a fool, he thought. Now he really was treating her as if she was some velociraptor straight out of a movie. He just had no practical knowledge to apply to this type of situation, but he could see that she was desperate enough to feed on a cat who had died the day prior due to a brain tumor.

“Easy.” He said, as if talking to one of his wounded canine patients. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He took a scalpel from his lab coat pocket, noticing her body tense up in his periphery, and quickly cut open his garbage bag. Without fishing too hard, he found a few of the blood samples that he’d thrown away since he didn’t have a use for them. Now he did.

“Catch!” Ethan tossed the vials toward her, like he was telling a dog to go fetch. 

Her brow furrowed in distaste, but she did as commanded.

Ethan observed with a keen eye that she had good reflexes. His gaze moved upwards to her face and his heart stuttered. She was fiercely attractive. Her hair cascaded down in long reddish brown waves, her eyes shimmered like amethyst gems under the light of the lamppost, her skin had the sun-kissed hue of caramel and honey, a golden brown that radiated warmth and beauty. In all his eight years of academic exposure, he’d never seen anyone or anything quite as strikingly gorgeous as her.

Throwing all caution to the wind, he took a step toward her as if entranced. Supernatural beings had, unfortunately, been left out of his rigorous reading curriculum. So, if vampires had the ability to cast spells, Ethan presumed he would have no immunity, he would gladly give in to this magnetic pull, he would gladly rip out his heart to be closer to her. This fated desire would be his demise.

“Don’t come near me.” She warned him, flinching slightly.

Her clear and authoritative voice cut through the night. Nothing like the soft, fearful whimper he’d expected. And it intrigued Ethan even more, a shiver ran up his spine and blood rushed to his cheeks.

He ran the back of his hand across his freckled nose and cheeks, sniffling as his nose began to run in the cold night air. “Alright.”

Retracting his outstretched foot, he stood tall, his ginger curls ruffling in the breeze. She looked like a human and spoke like a human, so the best he could do was introduce himself like a model citizen, and then maybe make her acquaintance - as every fiber of his being was so desperate to do. 

“I’m Ethan, or Dr. Marchand. And this,” he pointed to the facility on their left, “is my clinic.”

As he angled his body, his friendly smile turned into a snarky grin. “You’re welcome to swing by any time, but you’ll have to tell me your name first.”

She seemed to deliberate for a moment until her hand gripped the vials tightly with resolution. “It’s Clair.” She replied, rising from her squatting position next to the trash bin. Her sunset colored maxi wrap dress billowed around her in the wind.

“Clair.” Ethan repeated. It sounded sophisticated and elegant - it suited her, unlike this dumpster landscape.

He held his hand out in an unassuming manner. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Clair’s lips tilted into a smile at the gesture. She seemed to appreciate his openness.

His hand shook hers - and though it was cold to the touch, the look in her eyes was far from it.

[verbalucis]

RP Reply Samples

November 2024 [Kiara POV - Cyberpunk]

{Scene Starter}

The sun began its slow descent as Kiara wandered the street. A wash of golden light behind her, the last bit of warmth before the day's end.

She trudged along aimlessly, unsure of how she got there, her feet had just moved forward.

A few denizens checked out their cyber enhancements in the windows, and catching her reflection in the glass, they hollered at her - flexing new extensions. Street vendors rattled off their sales pitch, presenting her with boxes of chips, mechanical parts, and a less than appetizing assortment of snacks. Here and there, a whistle - the sound of pulsing music - and the buzzing of a neon sign lighting up. Eyes glazed, she walked by them like a phantom passing through.

Turning on Comms had been a mistake. She had watched as the contacts in her phone directory began to dwindle, disappearing before her eyes one by one. An outcast - shamed by the people she'd grown up with. High society never offered second chances.

In her hand, she dragged a luggage with a case on top - the extent of her possessions. Once or twice, she'd felt a tug in the opposite direction and her grip clenched the handle tightly - ironclad. She'd lost so much, she couldn't afford to lose this part of her as well.

At the thought of her remaining valuables, fear gripped her, an ice cold fist around her heart. She did not want to be out on these streets at night. Common sense told her it would be a bad idea, common sense also told her that the New Eden she gazed down on from the high rises was not the New Eden she was walking through. One was a city she could ingest through literature and media, the other - a living nightmare.

And as she came to terms with her situation, she felt it. That unmistakable swell of emotion, that moment when her mind and body connected in the state of being overwhelmed, and she knew she would no longer be able to keep her feelings at bay. She halted in her tracks, wheeled her belongings to the start of an alleyway, and sat on the luggage. The first tear rolled down her cheek, and then they just kept coming. Kiara cupped her face in her hands, chest heaving, but trying to hold back the noise.

-----

October 2024 [Tessa POV - Loose Prompt: Werewolves]

Never would she have guessed that a child transforming into a werewolf could be possible. It must've been a painful ordeal, the merging of two species with different anatomy into one body. What kind of parents would let their son go through such a process, or maybe he didn't have any? He didn't seem to value relationships. There were no pictures on the walls or frames on the flat surfaces.

Her mouth opened, ready to ask more questions, but they were suddenly interrupted by loud rapping noises on the door. He hadn't been lying when he said his neighbors were nosy. They must've all lived there a long time.

After five minutes of relentlessly rude shouting, Tessa decided she'd had enough of the old woman's tone. She let out a growl first, her platinum blond hair rising and bristling around her head, then she added a realistic, guttural bark for good measure.

The elderly senior made a startled yelp and shuffled backwards before approaching the door again. "Y-you know the policies!" She scolded in a shaky voice. "Dogs aren't allowed without permit!"

Tessa slouched back into the couch, hair falling around her ears just short of her shoulders. She turned to him with a small shrug and suggested in a whisper, "Pet sitting for a friend?"

------

July 2018 [Cleo POV - Fandom: OCs set in MHA universe]

Yuumei had an uncanny way of finding door number three and taking it, brushing over topics in his own style— casually with a bit of sardonic humor. And, although she was not a pushover, Cleo found herself swept into his pace, compelled to reciprocate with some attitude of her own. 

Angling herself toward him, she folded her arms and leaned back against the twisted chains. “Do I seem like a multiple choice type of person to you?“ She smiled back, like she was in on the joke, then lifted her feet to straighten her seat. 

"It was open ended and your answer is valid. But it probably won’t be good enough for HQ.” Staring tiredly out at the road, she whispered under her breath, "Nothing ever is." 

Returning to their conversation, she noted, "Perhaps our society is becoming black and white, where any variance is regarded with disdain. But I’m on the hero side to protect the civilians’ side. Upholding the law may not always be the best choice, but it’s the one I’ve chosen to take. Or, perhaps, the one I’ve been conditioned to take.” She rubbed her shoe into a groove, thinking about her father. 

With a slight shrug, she added. “It’s also easier fighting on a front that has access to regulating humanity. I’m not in it to win or anything, but when push comes to shove, I know who I’m fighting for." 

After a pause, she glanced at him briefly before looking away. "This might be personal…but I also wanted to know why you left.” She interlaced her fingers. “You left UA so abruptly, some people were convinced you died."

[verbalucis]

A Scarf that feels like Home

16 years ago

“Max, I miss home.”

Her brother gave her a lopsided smile and leaned his suitcase against the wall.

The two of them were waiting for their aunt to return from the women’s restroom, and though it was meant to be a short break, Sonya’s true feelings seemed to come to light during this time.

“Silly Sonya.” He gently mussed her hair. “A little too late to go back, wouldn’t you say?” He jerked a thumb back at the gate they had just exited and the wide floor to ceiling windows - a picturesque scenery of planes moseying within their lanes and docking at the appropriate jet bridge.

She slouched into her terminal seat, shying away from the bustling passengers in the area and catching fragments of sentences, a familiar word here and there, but in a language mostly foreign.

“What if they don’t like me?” She turned toward her brother with eyes wide, golden hair spilling out of the collar of her winter overcoat.

“Then we go home!” Max laughed lightheartedly.

Sonya pouted at him. Being carefree in a land where they were strangers could be dangerous.

Her initial excitement at wearing pretty things, and becoming famous, and immigrating to a cool new place had started to sink like a stone in the pit of her stomach. How disappointed would her parents be if she returned home after all the effort? How devastated would her younger siblings be if she didn’t bring them back a magazine with her in it? She shuddered to think of it.

Noticing Sonya’s downcast demeanor, Max placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “They won’t turn you away.”

“Why?” Sonya looked desperately at her older brother for an explanation.

He always had good reasons. Reasons that adults understood, but she couldn’t.

Max paused and thought deeply to himself for a moment, then riffled through one of their bags. “According to Mama,” he began, “she never felt the need to own any jewelry. You know why?”

“Why?” Sonya urged him on.

“Because when you were born, and she looked into your eyes, Mama said she was holding the world’s greatest treasure.”

Sonya began to tear up, but she got distracted when Max pulled out farewell presents from their parents. He unfolded an elegant turquoise scarf and wrapped it loosely around her neck until only her eyes and nose were visible.

Squatting in front of her, Max whispered, “Mama says they’d be a fool not to accept you, so try not to worry so much.”

Without a second to spare, Sonya threw her arms around her brother’s neck and hugged him tight - happy and thankful that he was with her.

As Aunt Helena rounded the corner and called their names, the aircrafts gracefully maneuvered outside - some descending from the sky, and others lining up for the runway.

[verbalucis]

Rare Find

Wooden planks beneath her boots creaked under her fast footsteps. 

The morning sun had settled into a mere blur on the horizon and shifted into a gradient of purple, orange, and red. Red like the hair of a certain woman who tucked her bright locks away into a scarf before disappearing from view.

She turned a corner into an alley leading away from the boardwalk, not a moment too soon - lest she walk into the bustle of drunkards eager to catch a pretty girl unaware, and not a moment too late - where the stench of garbage and the buzz of flies posed another sensory threat. While she navigated the back roads with practiced ease, she began to hum a familiar children’s lullaby. 

♫ Hush little baby don't say a word Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird ♫

Here, the cement and concrete architecture abruptly cut off and switched over to asphalt roads and brick buildings - a far cry from the advanced sky scrapers and digital billboards of downtown. One of these brick walls had a giant mural of a bird with its beak open. It might’ve almost seemed majestic had it not been for the graffitied profanities sardonically spray painted around its head. Sherri rolled her eyes at the juvenile vandalism and carried on with her tune. 

♫ And if that mocking bird don't sing Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring ♫

Her eyes fixed on a hollow opening carved into the side of what was once a rectangular structure. Now it lay barren - no windows, no doors. But she could still make out the faded white font above the entrance which read Diamond Jewelers. 

To the right of the ruined doorway, the wall remained intact. And, someone from long ago had drawn a cartoony figure holding up a diamond ring and peering through it with one eye. Sherri stepped in front of it, then swiveled on heel habitually and walked in the opposite direction. She continued down the adjacent street singing the last bit of the lullaby she recalled (or cared to remember). 

♫ And if that diamond ring turns to brass, Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass ♫

Her scarlet lips pulled into a grin as she tapped her pocket and headed for the dilapidated storefront of her favorite pawnshop. 

Like the buildings around it, the surface had layers of cement and brick, but unlike other stores, this one still retained its window. A red neon open sign with letters p and e missing illuminated the front door. She had mentioned the need for repair time and time again, but the response had always come back the same: sign still got the message across, so no need to fix it. 

Sherri pulled her makeshift scarf-hood off and turned her playful personality on. 

Swinging the door open, she stepped inside with a cheery disposition. “Good evening Graham.” 

Behind the jewelry case, an elderly man, over six feet in height, looked up from rubbing a silver medallion. Upon recognition, he returned the greeting, “Good evening Miss. Adair. What can I do for you?”

“I need an appraisal,” she said while hopping onto a stool and crossing her legs. She withdrew her new prize from her pocket and set it down on a velvet display pad. “So, how much do you think this is worth?” she leaned in on the glass counter, propping her chin on a palm and bouncing her leg on her knee. 

Graham’s deep set blue eyes widened slightly. He put aside the medallion and cloth and stooped down to examine the beautiful watch with a magnifying glass. “It can’t be,” he whispered under his breath while running a few liquid tests on the gold band. 

Studying his expression, Sherri lifted her head with piqued interest. She had never seen him so stunned. “What do you mean?” she probed for information. 

His graying brows furrowed as he stroked his beard. “Well if this is the real deal, we’re looking at a very expensive limited edition watch. Only a handful of these were released at fifty to sixty thousand a piece, but in time the value of this watch could well be worth millions.”

Sherri slipped her fingers through the watch loop and splayed them. A smug smile crept on her face. “I mean, I knew it was pretty. But what makes it so pricey?”

Graham ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair as he explained. “Most of this watch is pure gold and the diamond bezel,” he pointed and made a circle around the watch’s face, “that is, the inlay around the surface, only increases its value.”

Leaning back on his chair, he crossed his arms and gave her a pointed look. “Where did you get this?”

She picked up a polishing cloth and began wiping the watch, a coy smile playing on her lips. “It just slipped into my hands,” she answered nonchalantly. With a small shrug, she added, “You know how fortune favors me.” 

Graham let out a heavy sigh and rose from his seat. “Forget I even asked,” he mumbled in a low tone. Who was he to question clients’ activities? For a young lady like her, it was obvious that someone had gifted it to her. She never talked about her livelihood, but from that one night years ago - well, he could make a few assumptions. 

Sherri fixed the scarf over her hair again and pocketed the watch. 

“You don’t want me to post pictures and relay offers from the clientele?” He raised his brows in surprise. Usually she stormed in with items and haggled ferociously or pressed the highest net bidder to pay more. She was very good at winning too, and he was sure some of his graying strands had gone white in the process. 

“No, not for this one. At least…” Sherri tilted her head with a far-off look. “Not yet.”

Graham nodded and returned to cleaning the medallion and cloth. “Well if you change your mind, you can always come back here. As long as we stay open that is.”

“Of course.” Sherri replied, knowing they wouldn’t close. She had already slept with the building proprietor, stolen contracts for new business developments in the area, and burned some vital tax and debt collection documents. But, he didn’t need to know these things. 

All she needed him to know was the value of any item she threw at him. His expertise and knowledge was worth the trade-off to keep the shop’s lights on. And what little seeds of doubt or fear remained in his mind would keep the pawnshop running on a day-to-day basis. Besides, its location on neutral territory amidst all the gangs and pirate groups made it a fool proof haven for operation. 

She got off her stool and headed for the door. But before she reached the handle, Graham spoke again.

“Martha misses you.” He paused for a moment, letting the sentiment sink in. “Worries about you too, especially after that incident.”

Flustered by the memory of Graham and Martha rushing to pick up her bruised body from the street, Sherri spun around to face him. “Oh don’t worry. That was a one-time mistake.” She forced another smile and confidently asserted, “Just chose the wrong guy.”

Graham met her lively hazel eyes, then let his gaze fall back to his task. “You should go visit her sometime.” He concluded.

“Sounds like a plan! I do miss her jambalaya!” Sherri tagged on a fake laugh, keeping the mood light. 

With her hand on the door, she wished him a good night, then disappeared into the darkness of the alley. 

[verbalucis]

Sound of You

Eyelids closed. Chest soaked in sweat. Body hunched over and unmoving. 

She was too late again.

She takes a step toward him, crying unshed tears, calling out in a voice that is silenced.

The cement floor gives way under her and she falls into the pit of darkness, away from the circle of moonlight above. 

The jet black fades away into a sea of red and she is sinking.

Nothing to cling to, a current pulling her down through a viscous substance. 

Her limbs are coated dark red and she fears it’s her blood. Her blood extracted over the course of many moons - consumed with greed and pleasure. But the thought is replaced by one even more frightening - that it is not her blood. She panics, struggles, fights her way through the red haze as the density wears off. 

Breaking through, she lands hard on a pile of leaves. She rises to her feet in the middle of a forest, towering trees in every direction. No matter how fast she runs, or how much ground she covers, the terrain stays hopelessly the same. Desperation and disorientation sets in. There has to be a way out. There has to be a way. There has to be. 

The world is spinning when she hears her name. Soft and distant at first, a mere rustle in the leaves. Then louder and stronger. The ground shakes, but she is too exhausted to keep going. The voice that calls out to her sounds more desperate than the voice in her head - it makes her want to give in. 

“Mimi!” He shakes her once more - a firm grip on her shoulder, hoping to rouse her. “Mimi!”

She jolts awake. Eyes wide, breathing heavy. 

Fatigue catches up with her and she falls forward into his arms as pins and needles prick her limbs back into reality.

Ai sits on her bed, legs stretched to the floor, cradling her in his arms and whispering reassurances in low gentle tones. 

When her breathing evens out, he leans back against the headboard and waits patiently for her to speak first. Her head on his chest, his hand holding hers. 

It takes her a minute before she can formulate words in her head. But logic returns and rationale makes her curious. She furrows her brow, trying to remember the present and ground herself. “Were you working in the living room?”

“I was.” He murmurs in confirmation. 

“I’m sorry, was I too loud?” Mimi flushes a bit. “I - I didn’t mean to interrupt your script writing.”

Ai shakes his head. A shade of guilt tints his expression as he responds. “Since I lived as a pureblood for so long, my sensitivity to sound is still high. Your breathing pattern seemed erratic, so I came to check in on you.” 

He listens to my breathing? Wonderstruck, Mimi latches onto the idea, then swiftly dismisses it as an awkward topic for conversation.

The two are silent for another space of time. 

“Was it me again?” He stares outside at the full moon in the sky. 

“What?” She turns to him, unsure of his question. 

“The nightmare.” He says and meets her gaze. 

She opens her mouth but can’t bring herself to say anything. It feels as if all of her words will betray her. And when she watches him shift his line of sight away, she knows the look in her eyes has exposed her - despite her best intentions to hide it. 

“Maybe…” he begins hesitantly. “Maybe this isn’t good for you. It was selfish of me to introduce myself back into your life.” His eyes burn with remorse and he takes his hand away from hers. “I don’t know what I thought I could accomplish by being here.” 

Her chest feels heavy again, an alarm ringing in her ears like she hasn’t had enough oxygen. She needs him to stop. 

She gathers what remains of her energy to grab locks from his hairline and pull him down for a kiss. 

The silence is savored. 

She breaks the kiss to say the only words that she wants him to hear - “Ai don’t” - followed by more locked kisses in plea. Her hands working their way through his disheveled hair.

A moment later, he pulls away from her lips to rest his forehead against hers. In the stillness, he catches his breath - panting with her as they share the same air. He closes his eyes and sighs, reluctant to absolve himself. “My presence only brings you pain,” he says with head bowed. 

Refusing to hear any more of his self-loathing, Mimi tugs on the front of his sweater - commanding his attention. Her relentless gaze pierces through his dark pupils - swirling voids of doubt and uncertainty. She speaks in a steady voice, but her tone is ardent. “I can’t control my thoughts, but I know this won’t last forever. You have no idea how happy it makes me to wake up to this reality. To know that my nightmare is merely a dream, intangible and unreal. You being here is the reason I can recover, Ai.” 

Her body trembles with emotion. Desperate to make him understand her. 

The room grows quiet again, except for the slight crumple of bedsheets as Ai’s hand balls into a fist. His jaw clenches as he studies the lines of the wooden floor. 

She reads his expression and knows he is not angry. Rather, it’s a look of misery from someone who could easily tackle a criminal down or punch out arrogant elites, but feels utterly useless when the problem is not solved by physical means. She gives his hand a comforting squeeze and a smile so big it reaches her eyes. 

The effect is immediate and he caves.

Fists unfurled, he wraps his arms around her delicate waist - embracing her tightly. He lowers his head to the crook of her neck and presses close. Her head tips toward his as he whispers in her ear. “Denying you is impossible.” 

His fingers interlace with hers and he brings her hand to his lips. The first kiss goes to her palm, a second to her wrist, a third to her tender forearm. “I don’t deserve you, but I want to be worthy of you.”

He breathes out against her temple, “You mean the world to me, Mimi. Always have. Always will. I couldn’t live without you before, and I certainly can’t live without you now.” 

Staring into her eyes, he continues, “Even if we walked a different timeline, shared another past or future, I would still find my way back to you.” 

Then, Ai leans forward and plants a final kiss on the crown of her head.

In turn, Mimi hugs him back, beaming with happiness, a brilliance about her that rivaled the sun. “I’m so glad you reached out to me at the bookstore,” she nuzzles into his sweater. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Mm.” Ai murmurs softly in agreement. He caresses her short bob of hair, then asks her if she’s ready to sleep again.

Suddenly exhausted, Mimi nods at him - unable to hide a tired smile. 

They shuffle under the covers, bodies fitting together like a puzzle until she shifts and buries her face in his warm chest again.

He places his arm over, a weight on the blanket, and cradles her to him. 

It is only a matter of time before she drifts off to the sound of his heartbeat and the promise of a good night’s rest. 

~*~

Happy Birthday Link!  :) 

[verbalucis]

Good Game

As Sherri moved about the streets, the air was warm. Ideal weather for encouraging night life and setting the tone for the evening. She pushed the door open, eyes already adjusting to the darkness and settling on the entrance attendant who waved her through. A pleasant sense of familiarity washed over her at being recognized as a regular and she flashed a smile before entering the main room. 

Today, she wore an ombre mini dress with diamond waterfall earrings that swayed as she walked toward the bar. Before she ordered a drink, she cast a glance around the club. It was always fascinating to be able to come to the same place yet experience an ever-changing crowd. She wondered what sort of companion this night would bring her.

Just as she had been scanning the crowd for a possible target, she caught sight of a man near one of the bar’s high tables. Though his height and handsome features were captivating enough, her line of sight soon shifted to his luxury watch and necklace which only added to his value. 

She played a little game. Letting her gaze linger for a while, wondering if he’d catch on.

-

It was a quiet night for Ren, and he'd had no plans. However, boredom was setting in and he's got nothing to do at home besides cook and watch movies... Neither of which he wanted to do alone anymore. So on a whim, he decided to head out to the local nightclub. Emma had spoken highly of it, so he was hoping that he'd see some of his friends there. But alas, as he sat at his table with his little drink, he was disappointed to find no familiar faces in the crowd. 

Despite him being the one scanning the people in the club, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he feels another set of eyes on him. It's not an unfamiliar experience for him to be watched, but... there's a different vibe. He looks around for wherever it was coming from, and eventually spots a lady with short red hair. He gives her a once over, then returns to his drink. She was probably just checking him out. Nothing new there...

-

Oh, he looked. She mused to herself. 

The moment was brief though. Shy? Disinterested? 

Either way, it was enough to pique her curiosity - and, he was alone, unlike others who were already engaged in conversation. 

Since she didn't know who she was dealing with yet, and he clearly wasn't tottering over his seat, she ordered herself a pina colada and headed his way. 

"Hi, mind if I join you?" She put on a friendly smile.

-

Hearing someone address him, Ren looks up from his half empty glass. Oh. Her. God, he hoped she didn't want something from him. He's not in the mood. 

He inspects her appearance again. She didn't seem to be dressed to carry many items... so she's not hiding a camera or notepad somewhere besides her phone. What is she here for if not an interview or photograph? 

"Yes, I do mind," He says with an edge in his tone. He then takes a slow sip, looking back down at the table.

-

Ugh, someone with an actual backbone. She casually looked about the room again for someone else to hunt, but no one seemed to stick out against mr.sight-for-sore-eyes here. 

So, she took the bar stool next to him. Free country. She'd heard the term enough times. 

"And you mind because you are sitting here like an absolute loner while everyone else is having fun?" She sipped her pina colada and raised her eyebrows at him. 

-

He brushes his hair back and sighs heavily. He's glad he's still fairly sober-- or at least enough so to have multiple strings of coherent thoughts. While Ren supposes he must look like a loser by himself, this lady didn't have to point it out. "And what's your point? Why are you here talking to the 'loner' when you could be having fun?" 

-

"Hmm..." she hummed whimsically. "Maybe it's because I felt like playing the part of good samaritan tonight." She churned the slush in her glass with circular movements. "Or," she shrugged lightly, "Maybe I just like to hear people's stories."

She propped her chin on her palm and tilted her head at him. "So, what's yours? Are you from around here?"

-

Ren gives Sherri a pointed look. It's been a long time since someone has gone out of their way for him because of sheer interest, so he doesn't quite believe her. "So you pity me?" He teases. "Well sweetheart, while that may be a little blow to my ego, you don't need to worry about me. I'm doing just fine." He purposefully doesn't answer her questions about his story. He's not up for getting too involved. 

He glances at his watch-- 9:30-- not a bad time to head out since he's by himself. He just has to ditch Little Red.

-

Sherri's patience was wearing thin. Ego itself wasn't a problem, but she needed him to loosen up if she'd get anything out of him, or from him. 

Since small talk didn't seem to be working, maybe it was time for a little action. She watched as he checked the time, then placed her hand on the watch's face. 

Her fingers curl around his wrist as she tugs him up off his seat. "It's too early for bed," she smiles coyly, "dance with me?"

She asks it like an open ended question, but her body language says otherwise - gradually luring him towards the glowing strobe lights, pulsing music, and hyped up crowd. 

-

Ren tenses at her unexpected touch. Noting her body language, he fights the urge to curl his nose, but his eyebrows twitch in irritation. Were his hints not strong enough? 

"Sorry. Not interested." He tugs his arm away with just enough force to slip out of her grasp. He grabs his drink to down the rest of it in a gulp, slams it down on the table, and walks off.

-

Sherri stood alone on the vibrating floor, eyes trailing him as he stormed out. 

Mussing her hair in slight frustration at the turn of events, she took a big gulp of her sweet pineapple drink and let out a sigh. 

Losing always sent a familiar pang to her chest - though it was duller than it had once been. Something about the repetitive loss, of parents, of status, of her place in class, had made her numb. Numb, but no less adept.

A thin smile stretched across her face as she opened her palm and stared at the gold watch with embedded crystals. "Lose yourself to irrational anger, and you'll lose more than you bargained for." 

The strobe lights played across her features, giving her eyes a green glow as she headed for the back door. 

[verbalucis]

Good Luck

Shocked by the gravity of the situation, Ai could barely process anything before Zephyr shifted Mimi’s limp body into his lap.

His eyes locked on a pair of holes in her arm and the veins that began to color and swell under her skin.

Reality settled in. Without a second to spare, he unlatched his belt and yanked it out from the loops and knife carrier. He wrapped it several times around her upper arm to slow the spread of venom, then slid one arm behind her back and the other under her knees.

He carried her toward the division’s tank-like vehicle, catching up with Zephyr in no time.

Only then did he notice splotches of blood trailing Zephyr’s footsteps.

“Hey,” Ai called out, tone tinged with guilt, “Is there First Aid in the trunk?”

“Better question would be what don’t we have in the trunk.” Zephyr answered with some of his usual playfulness, though lacking volume. His energy was fading fast.

The trunk’s door opened and Zephyr took a seat on the edge, his first show of exhaustion as his legs gave way.

Ai lowered a back seat and lay Mimi gently down, then grabbed a First Aid kit and turned toward Zephyr. “Lift your arms and shirt.”

Adrenaline shot through Zephyr again as he protested, “We don’t have time! We need to get Mimi-” but his voice turned to cries when Ai forcibly revealed the wound on his back and rubbed an alcohol cloth across in big sweeping motions.

Ai spoke calmly as Zephyr gritted his teeth for the rest of the cleaning process. “Are any anti-vampire shots or blood packets in here?”

Furrowing his brows wet with sweat, Zephyr scoured his memory. “There should be.”

In perpetual motion, Ai reached for four large abdominal pads, layered them on Zephyr’s wound, and swiftly wrapped gauze around Zephyr’s torso. “Do you know what Mimi’s blood type is?”

“How would I know?” Zephyr retorted, then grimaced as Ai tugged the ends of the gauze tightly. “Hiro might though.”

Pressing the black button on his transceiver, Ai waited.

“This is Hiro.” She stated in a distant and distracted voice.

“What’s Mimi’s blood type?” Ai asked.

“B. Why?” Hiro’s voice was louder this time.

She repeated the question, but Ai wasn’t listening.

He popped open several cases, scavenging for necessary items.

It came as a relief when he found the anti-bite vaccine, but the feeling was short-lived by the limited number of blood bags. Type B wasn’t available, so Type O would have to suffice. Ai hoped he was not wrong. He was working off memory of a subject he was not well versed in.

Meanwhile, Zephyr communicated with Hiro and Zayev - doing his best to keep his voice stable. Zayev’s grave voice came through the communicator and noted that he and Hiro were on their way back. They also did not bear good news, but Mimi’s situation seemed to be the most urgent matter at hand.

Ai filled a needle with the vaccine and placed the tip straight into a hole left behind by the bite. He pressed the plunger and emptied the barrel in one smooth motion. Almost immediately, the vaccine went to work and a few thin lines stretching out began to recede. Convinced that the substance was effective, Ai undid his belt and watched her upper arm’s skin color return to normal.

Afterwards, he set up the blood IV transfusion.

Only when he saw the slow and steady blood flow in the catheter did he realize how fast his own movements had been. How desperate he might have seemed. How strange it was for him to act like this for a human.

“She’s going to make it, right?” Zephyr leaned against the side of the back seat, a hand clamped on the head rest.  

His question shook Ai out of his thoughts.

“I think so.” Ai responded while checking her pulse. “But there’s not enough blood in her system. We still need to go to a hospital.”

Zephyr settled back into his seat with a smirk, satisfied that Mimi wasn’t on death’s doorstep anymore.

“Man, a medic and a martial artist? What else are you hiding? Maybe Mimi is lucky to have a lover boy like you.”

Ai kept his gaze fixed on Mimi’s face - already missing the brilliance of her gem like eyes. The verdant vitality of them concealed in her unconsciousness. The fear of not seeing them again that tore him up inside when he saw her lying there on the forest floor.

“Considering my first day on the job, I would question all of our luck.” Ai turned to Zephyr with a taut smile.

-

Soon Zayev and Hiro arrived and occupied the driver’s and passenger’s seats.

Ai directed Zayev to begin driving to North Haven Hospital and the rest of the trip was maintained in absolute silence.

Once there, Ai removed the IV from Mimi’s arm and lifted her into his arms again.

Hiro opened the door for Ai, releasing a blast of A/C, and called for help.

In response, an observant nurse wheeled a stretcher over to them and Ai placed Mimi down. Nearby, Zayev snagged a wheelchair for Zephyr who initially refused it, but finally sat down with a huff under the weight of Zayev’s persuasive hands on his shoulders.

A second nurse had left the premises but promptly came back with a woman in her early forties and a name tag label with Dr. Vivianna Castelli engraved on the surface.

Dr. Castelli rushed forward then stopped in surprise when she saw Ai lift his head up after positioning MImi on the stretcher.

“Ai!” She called out endearingly with arms outstretched.  

His expression softened and he let her cup his face in her hands and kiss his forehead.

“It’s good to see you, Vivianna. I wish it was on better terms, but we need Type B blood transfusion for my coworker. Her name is Mimi, and she was just bitten.”

[verbalucis]

Tossed Surprises

Zayev cast a wavering look at the map again before turning his eyes to the horrific landscape around them.

“They were stationed here, then seemed to have been pushed north according to the map. But if I go by the direction of the fallen bodies back there, some tracks head south.”

From the other side of the street, Hiro emitted a sound of disgust as she pointed to a splattered wall. “For sure the main battle is up north, this blood trail is fresh.”

Zayev crossed the street for a closer inspection.

Amid the corpses and upturned vehicles, Ai surveyed the wall, unaffected by the smell since he’d taken an inhibitor pill in the morning. He squinted as he came across an opening - the wind tunnel tearing at his lashes almost enough to make his eyes water. Stepping back, he seconded Hiro’s statement.

“I agree. They wouldn’t bother making a direct pathway through a building if they weren’t in hot pursuit.”

Shoving the map into his back pocket, Zayev eyed them both and headed for the gap. “Then we’d better get going.”

Hiro followed and Ai made a motion to go next when a bright light flashed in his periphery.

His eyes darted to the source, but all he noticed was a side view mirror dangling from the side of a vehicle. Nothing out of the ordinary, until he caught a glimpse of a face emerging from the shadows and the unmistakable red-orange hair of the vampire center’s Chancellor - Ethan Chateau.

His was a presence that could not be ignored.

And he made it known when he hurled the car with the broken mirror in Ai’s direction.

Ai easily side-stepped but grimaced as the dust settled, revealing the blocked path that Zayev and Hiro just took.

Seconds later, he heard Zayev and Hiro calling his name in a panicked tone.

“I’m fine.” Ai responded coolly. “Obstruction at the entrance. Should I look for a way around?”

“Go back to our vehicle immediately and wait with Zephyr and Mimi. We’ll rendezvous once we have more information.” Zephyr’s voice resonated from beyond the rubble.

“Understood.” Ai acknowledged, then turned around to face Ethan with a look of annoyance.

Knowing it was perhaps deserved, Ethan smirked and pointed at a room off to the side with skeletal window frames, the glass of them broken and scattered across the interior.

Ai got the memo and headed his way.

-

“Look at you. Already so obedient and all dolled up.” Ethan poked at his kevlar vest with interest, watching the material absorb the finger pressure.

“It’s part of my mission. And I was doing my job until you interfered.” Ai pulled out of Ethan’s reach. “Why have you come? It’s only my first day.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Ai. And vampire society won’t wait idly for your results either.”

Ai stuffed his hands into his pockets, ready for a long lecture, but Ethan surprised him with another thrown object. This time the item was small enough for Ai to catch.

He looked down at a square packet the size of his palm and instinctively knew from the dark red content what it was. It was smaller than usual and he glanced back at Ethan - perplexed.

“Dainty, isn’t it?” Ethan began to elaborate with a sneer of sarcasm. “The governor has decided to add a new snack size to the vending machines. A matter of giving us options in case we were looking for something lighter to indulge in.”  

Ai clenched his jaw and curled his fingers gently but firmly around the small pack. “When - ”

“- are they going to be instated?” Ethan finished the thought. “Oh, probably next week. It will help cut costs on material and donors, so - you know - they have incentive to speed the process up.”

There was a moment of silence as Ai stared quietly at the floor, stuck in a web of his thoughts but unable to follow any threads, surrounded by a thousand glass shards reflecting the blood packet in his hand. First this reduction, then what? How long would he have before price increases were implemented?

A sudden noise from his radio snapped Ai to attention. “We’ve been am--- in the --- help stat!” the static cut through, but Ai recognized Zephyr’s voice.

Without a word, Ai turned to go, but Ethan held his shoulder with a grip tighter than Zayev’s. “I’ve known your father for a long time, Ai. Your sister, too. But there’s only so much I can do for them. Remember whose side you’re on and report back as soon as you have something worthwhile.”

“I know.” Ai brushed his hand off, then attempted to give the small pouch back, but Ethan refused.

“Keep it. You know you can’t go without it either.”

Ai stuffed it in his trouser pocket and sprinted toward the starting point. He didn’t have time to argue if Zephyr was desperate enough to buzz the group.

-

After watching him fade into the distance, Ethan pulled out his own device and made a call.

“The battle is over, I presume?” He waited for the answer, then continued. “Good. Extract as much blood as you can, then head back. This is only a warning strike, but - ” Ethan stepped on a glass piece and watched it crack under his weight. “It’s gratifying to know we can still win a fight.”

-

Faster than the average human runner, Ai got to the vehicle within minutes, but found it empty.

He spun around and took deep breaths, wondering which direction they went.

Since he didn’t have a visual, he closed his eyes and honed his other senses.

That’s when he heard snarling and clamor coming from the woods, a slight tremor in the ground.

His eyes darted open.

As if on cue, a vampire strolled into view, licking the red liquid off his hand with a savage smile.

Ai frowned - a Wayward, an insatiable bloodthirsty vampire.

Just as the vampire noticed his presence, Ai slammed him against a wall and pinned him there with an arm across the neck. The vampire spluttered, cursed, and hissed in surprise, then ceased struggling.

His voice came out guttural and hoarse, “You - You smell different...Halfie?”

Ai applied pressure on his throat. “That’s right. Tell me how many came with you?”

“8 of usss.” The vampire answered with disinterest.

A piercing cry split the air and startled birds shot through the sky. Fear and guilt hit Ai all at once as he listened in a cold sweat.

“Where are the others?” Ai demanded.

“Fighting fresh prey over yonder.” The vampire stretched a nail to point out the direction. Suddenly, his eyes widened with piqued curiosity. “There is blood on you. Purchased?”

Ai dropped his hold and stepped back. “Not for you. If you want to live, leave now.” To emphasize the threat, Ai unsheathed his knife.

Sauntering away, the vampire wiped his lips across his arm in a vulgar manner. “I’ve had my fill of rewards. Feel free to have yours.”

Ai sprinted in the other direction, muttering under his breath, “Don’t lump me with the likes of you.”

Entering the woods, he burst into a small clearing where six vampires were sprawled across the ground. A seventh lay face down several feet away.

Upon hearing a crunch of twigs, Zephyr turned toward Ai utterly dejected - tears staining his face. His voice trembled as he mumbled, “Damn it.”

[verbalucis]

Bumpy Road

“Not killing vampires.” Ai repeated the words as if to convince himself.

Mimi nodded and then pointed at a large tank-like vehicle not too far away. “Depending on the distance, sometimes we go by helicopter, but it seems our destination isn’t too far today, so we’ll be taking the car.”

From the driver’s side, Zayev’s head popped out and with a hand he gestured for them to move. “Everybody in and buckle up.”

“I call shotgun!” Zephyr bounded for the front seat, but Hiro slapped the back of her hand across his chest.

“Not so fast. I’m the one who helps with directions, so maybe I should be upfront.”

Mimi spoke up before Zephyr could retort, “Why don’t we let Ai sit next to Zayev today?”

Hiro shrugged and climbed into the back.

Zephyr let out half a chuckle then bowed and motioned to the front, “Your seat awaits, guest of honor.”

Ai opened his mouth but found no words and silently slipped into the passenger’s seat.

Once the team was settled, Zayev rapped against the roof and faced Ai. “Our first line of defense. Mixture of steel, titanium, and tungsten. It can withhold blows from an adult pureblood. Our rule: don’t go out unless you’re ready.”

He turned onto the main road and accelerated, the GPS screen glowing blue as their little white dot moved closer to the red flag. “Mimi, please pass him a vest.” Zayev requested.

She did as she was told and Ai took it from her, careful to avoid skin contact. His temperature was low and he didn’t want to shock her.

Zayev turned a sharp corner and ran over a pothole, jostling the vehicle.

“Could’ve avoided it if you went the other way.” Hiro muttered under her breath - a tight grip on her sword.

“Sorry sorry,” Zayev apologized in a pleading tone, then refocused on driving and explanation. “That vest is made of kevlar. Bulletproof, but more importantly a material harder for vampires to rip or pierce with their nails or fangs. It may save you from injury or turn a fatal strike into a less lethal one. Better put it on for your first outing.”

Ai tore the plastic wrap and pulled the vest out - a lightweight gray and durable piece of attire - while a stream of thoughts rushed through his mind.

It was no wonder that the vampires lost the war. They relied too heavily on inherited traits while humans had been developing technology to counter all of their offensive attacks. Most of the elder vampires were haughty, proud, and independent. Too vain to fight with others, too stubborn to compromise.

A softie? Ai recalled Mimi’s words as he pushed one arm through. A knight? He shoved the other arm through. Neither label applied. He was nothing so genteel.

You’ll fit right in with this group.

Ai looked out his passenger window listlessly, swallowing any guilt he might have had. The mission haunted him again. He was only using them, gathering human intel for vampire gain. A spy like him could never fit in.

A moment later, he shrugged on the rest of the kevlar vest, rested his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands.

It felt heavy.

Meanwhile, Zayev changed gears and slowed the vehicle to a crawl. “It’s coming up. Everyone, look sharp. Our first task is to find the Chief of Police and ask where we’re most needed. Defend yourselves, defend others.”

He clamped a hand down on Ai’s shoulder, “Follow me at all times.” Turning to the back row, he spoke clearly and authoritatively, “Travel together. Remember this involves teamwork, it’s not an arcade match.” At this last part, he looked straight at Zephyr who played innocent and put his hands up.

After parking and arming himself, Zayev gave a quick nod at Hiro who had her hand on the back door handle. “Let’s go.”

[verbalucis]

Itadakimasu

Zephyr split his chopsticks with a loud snap. “THANK YOU TO DIVISION LEADER’S WALLET FOR THIS MEAL!”

Next to him, Hiro swiftly transferred a few pieces of sushi to her plate before he could attack everything.

Mimi and Ai walked in as Zephyr stuffed his face. Somehow he still managed a garbled, “Ey! You made it!”

In perhaps a more courteous manner, Hiro turned one of the other boxes toward them and gestured with a hand, “Please feel free to take whatever you’d like. There’s plenty.”

It had certainly been an active morning, with all the touring and explaining, so lunch sounded grand. Mimi received the serving tongs from Hiro, then thought better of it and passed it along to Ai. “Here you go. Enjoy!”

Ai hesitantly took the utensil with a quiet thank you and shifted a few nigiri onto his plate.

Zephyr’s eyes immediately fell on the meager amount that Ai portioned for himself and couldn’t hold back a comment. “That’s all you’re eating?”

Ai paused in unsleeving his chopsticks, suddenly aware of being the center of attention. “I...just don’t eat much,” he replied.

“Suit yourself! More for me!” Zephyr shrugged and slid an entire roll onto his plate.

Hiro nudged Zephyr, “Control yourself or you’ll regret it later.”

Mimi intercepted their chopstick war with a question, “Is Zayev back yet? We should save him some as well.”

Hiro looked up at Mimi, “Ah, you’re right. I haven’t seen him yet. He should be back soon though.”

Ai finished pulling out his chopsticks and split them with ease, then he lifted a piece into his mouth and began to chew slowly.

“Well? How is it?” Hiro looked at him expectantly. “This is your welcome party after all. We ordered from one of the best places in the area.”

Mimi’s eyes brightened at him as well while chewing her piece.

The grainy rice texture mixed in with the smooth slice of fish in Ai’s mouth. But the sensation ended there. The food didn’t make his mouth water or coax him to go for seconds. Ultimately, eating was just a chore - a signal from the brain that this activity would be necessary to keep the human side of him going. But from the expressions on his companions’ faces, Ai judged the delicacy before him must be what people referred to as “delicious.”

“It’s excellent, thank you.” He gave a lopsided smile and returned to his plate - almost a little apologetically.

Zephyr pointed at Ai with his chopsticks, “He knows the good stuff. Told you it would be a good idea.”

Hiro smirked and popped another sushi into her mouth, “Yeah, yeah.”

-

The group continued to converse for a few minutes when the floor’s alarm system went off. Red lights flashed from the corners and a loud buzzer sounded. Less than ten seconds had passed when Zayev came storming back to the table.

“Hate to break up the party, but duty calls. We have an incident in the North district. A fight broke out and police called for backup.”

Zephyr groaned, “Why’s it gotta be NOW.”

Yet, he still shoved a last piece into his mouth and headed straight for the trophy case to pick up his weapons.  Hiro was close at his heels.

Zayev furrowed his brows, “Sorry, Ai. As you can imagine, quiet days are rare for us.”

Ai tossed his plate in the trash, unfazed. “I was done anyways.”

When Ai turned around, Zayev was holding a leather case out to him.

Inside was a decently sized knife with a sharp blade.

“Temporary substitute for your protection.” Zayev stated. “Since we haven’t gotten your weapons of choice yet.”

“This will do. Thanks.” Ai threaded the case through his belt.

“Everyone meet me in the hangar at T-5 minutes.” Zayev boomed and then disappeared.

Ai turned to Mimi, “I’m hoping you have an idea of how to get to this place.”

[verbalucis]

New Villager

Ai spent all 10 seconds of the elevator ride up wondering what was so important to Mimi that her eyes had glazed over with unshed tears.

Hands in his pockets, he figured there would be plenty of time to find out.

After all, this is where he would spend a majority of his day from now on.

The elevator dinged a floor shy from the top, and the doors opened. The three of them stepped out into a colder chamber with electric fluorescent lights. There were less people on this floor, less noise. A few blackout roller blinds were pulled down to the floor, here and there, and cubicle walls kept their owners’ faces and activities private.

“Here it is.” Hiro waved her hand around flippantly. “Investigation Division.”

She passed her badge over a scanner then led them through sliding glass doors and began rattling off information.

“This is the break room. You can brew coffee or select an espresso on the machine. Cups are on the counter. Utensils, plates, paper towels are in the labeled cabinets and drawers. We rotate on who restocks the supplies every month.”

She started counting on her fingers, then seemed to have a better idea. “You can go the month after Mimi and she can show you where we usually get the goods.”

Hiro folded her arms, and seemed to avoid Mimi’s open mouth stare. “Anyways, if you want filtered water, get it from the fridge.” She made a popping noise with her mouth, thinking about any other pertinent information. “Oh,” she recalled, “FYI - Men’s bathrooms are on this side, and women’s bathrooms are on that side - don’t you dare get them mixed up.”

Ai took mental note.

“Any questions?” Hiro turned suddenly on him.

Ai shook his head.

“Alright then. I think that covers it for now. Let’s head to our main quarters.”

The three of them rounded a large pillar into an open area with some couches, a whiteboard, and a foldable white table.

On one recliner lay a lanky male immersed in a gaming console. Sunflower-like dreadlocks sprouted from his head and his chocolate sunkissed skin glowed in the daylight.

Placing a hand on her hip, Hiro shouted, “Zephyr, now’s NOT the time.”

“Hold on! Hold on! I just got a new villager on my island!” He whined.

Hiro rolled her eyes. “WE have a new member on our island IN REAL LIFE.”

Ai spared a quick glance at Mimi who seemed amused at the exchange, then redirected his attention to his coworker. The other male righted himself and stared straight at Ai.

His eyes were honey brown, and he had a sweet disposition, but there was something unsettling about his gaze. To dispel the silence, Ai was about to speak up when the other bounced up and spread his arms wide. “ ‘Sup! Welcome to our humble abode, uh---.”

Hiro whispered through clenched teeth. “His name is Ai.”

Zephyr flashed a smile. “Welcome, Ai!”

“Thank you.” Ai stated calmly, with no attempt to match the other’s roaring energy. “And your name is Zephyr?”

“You got it!” Zephyr nodded in approval, then leaned in closer for inspection and rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Dude, nice hair!”

Ai let out a tired chuckle under his breath, “Thank you. Same to you.”

-

After a minute or two, an echo of footsteps from the stairwell reached the company’s ears.

Two men entered through a side door, chatting pleasantly to each other.

One of them was short, middle-aged, and had a bald spot on his head. The other was a man about Ai’s height. Broader. More muscular and toned. Tanned skin, dark hair and eyes.

Both men took notice of the welcoming party at the same time and ceased conversation.

The shorter man’s countenance brightened all of a sudden, but he allowed the other to initiate the talk. Meanwhile, the taller man seemed a bit surprised as he checked his watch, then raised his brows at Hiro. “Ahead of schedule?”

Hiro shrugged nonchalantly. “We bumped into Clara and figured we’d take him off her hands since she’s got so much to do.”

“I see.” He voiced in an understanding tone.

Within seconds, he picked up Mimi’s aloofness and checked up on her. “Mimi, are you feeling ok?”

She pushed hair behind her ear, a bit embarrassed, and responded in kind. “Yes, thank you.” She smiled.

Ai quietly wondered if this man was “something important” to Mimi. Someone important enough to make her feel tempted to cry in the spur of the moment. No doubt he was someone worth remembering.

As Ai mulled over these things, the man’s penetrating gaze turned to Ai with curiosity.

While it was easy for Ai to identify Hiro and Mimi’s importance in the foyer by Clara’s reactions, this man’s dominance alone was multiplied tenfold just by the way he carried himself.

It would’ve been nice if his presence left a good impression, but something about him put Ai on edge, enough to make his vampire blood race. Perhaps he was just sensitive since he was his equal in stature, his superior in build, and more distinguished among his colleagues.

Ai managed to suppress his feelings in time to fake a warm greeting and return a firm handshake.

“I’ve heard much about you, Ai. Thank you for joining us.” Zayev clasped his hand.

“Pleasure is all mine, Mr. - ”

“Head Honcho, El Capitan, Mr. Bomb Diggity - our Leadernim,” Zephyr dutifully informed with a smack of praying hands.

“Please,” Zayev gave a close-eyed smile, “call me Zayev.”

Ai nodded, “Will do.”

-

The shorter man, unable to contain himself any longer, launched himself at Ai. “You’re here! I knew it. I knew it.”

Zayev intervened with more information. “Ai, this is our recruiter - George Barnes. George searches the States for us and looks for potential candidates. Seems like you were one of his top picks.”

Stunned, Ai thanked him for the recommendation. It hadn’t even occurred to him who had pulled strings for him to be hired at the facility. Ai had just followed orders with little thought about qualifications.

George leaned in with a twinkle in his eye, “Heard you can pack a punch.”

“Only if necessary, sir.” Ai smiled politely.

George gave him an approving pat on the shoulder twice and then headed for the elevators. “I’m off to the beaches of Mexico for now. Take care of this one eh, Zayev?”

A corner of Zayev’s lips lifted, “Only if you have a beach martini in my name.”

George laughed heartily, “Cheers to that one.”

-

Once Hiro and Zephyr had been sent to buy some lunch for the group (Zephyr in charge of holding the bags, and Hiro in charge of the wallet), Zayev called Ai over to the side.

“I’m not exactly the best tour guide around here, but I do want you to know where we keep weapons.”

He walked over to the pillar in the middle of the room and placed his badge over a black pad.

A section of the pillar began to swivel around revealing a glass case with golden trim.

“I’ll leave the details to their owners, but just so you know.” He pointed at the top shelf, “The katana is Hiro’s.” Then he pointed to the holsters on the wall, “The dual wield guns belong to Zephyr.” “Those two are extremely possessive about their weapons, so don’t get any ideas.”

Zayev pressed a side button and the slice of pillar began to return to its original position. “Do you have self defense weapons that you would like us to order for you?”

Ai tensed at the idea of using a weapon against his own kind. Still, he had an image to uphold. “A ridged dagger... and a curved one.”

Zayev raised his brows as if Ai continued to surprise him hour after hour.

“Are they not available?” Ai queried in response to Zayev’s countenance.

“No, it’s not that. Normally, it takes people more time to think about their weapon of choice.” Zayev turned toward the breakroom. “That, and a bit of my bias that you seemed more like a gun type of guy.”

Ai rubbed his neck, falling into Zayev’s pace, “I’d use it if necessary, but it would be hard to control. I wouldn’t know when to stop.” The words left his mouth faster than intended and he couldn’t recall them. He fumbled on, “I also have...personal reasons for not favoring them.”

Zayev paused in his steps and placed a hand reassuringly on Ai’s shoulder. “I respect your decision.”

Though it had only been a couple hours, Ai’s initial animosity toward Zayev had faded to a dull pulse. Zayev was attentive and very easy to get along with. Good at conversation and great at delegation. Ai had to give him the benefit of the doubt that he had the qualities of a capable leader.

If this was what Mimi was attracted to, who was he to come between them.

-

After Zayev and Ai helped Mimi set the table, Zayev asked Mimi to lead Ai to his work station while he took a phone call.

[verbalucis]

Linked

Her hand was soft and delicate, yet firm. She didn't shy away from his shake, instead her hand lingered in his grasp. After making physical contact, Ai found it hard to let go. As if a link had been forged between them - a bond not so easily and abruptly severed.

The only thing warmer than the air around them was her smile, and he stood spellbound a few seconds longer than he should have.

Somewhere to his right, Hiro cleared her throat and the attendant shuffled some of her papers around.

Ai loosened his hold immediately, hoping he hadn’t overextended his courtesy.

It was his first day...what was he doing - he never resorted to feeling this way. This was not part of the mission.

Yes, the mission.

He blinked away from Mimi to collect his thoughts again, then turned to the lady next to her.

“Hi Hiro, nice to meet you.” He offered his hand.

“Same to you.” She gave his hand a strong jerk up and down, then released.

Ai could tell she had an equally strong personality, but he wasn’t quite ready to face it.

Turning to his guide, he asked, “So, do I go back to...” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder.

Research Division 3 had gone back to their ways, clicking mouses and bustling around file cabinets.

She fidgeted with her glasses and kept checking the time, “Ah, well no. Not exactly, not anymore since we are in the presence of your immediate team members, perhaps we shall-”

“Clara, you’ve done a fine job. Mimi and I can take him from here. You’ve got other guests to deal with anyways.” Hiro nodded with her head at a delivery man arriving at the door.

“OH! Well. I’d hate to impose, but if you insist. As you said, I do have to attend to some other matters.” Clara smoothed her hair down and gave Ai a soft pat on his shoulder. “I’ll bring you paperwork later on, but in the meantime, take care, and please follow these ladies the rest of the way.”

Ai thanked her for her efforts, slightly loath to see her go, then attempted to adjust to his new company. His oxford dress shoes squeaked a little as his brows furrowed in apology, “Sorry to be an inconvenience. Please lead the way.”

[verbalucis]

First sight

When the elevator doors opened, his guide led him to an area cluttered with desks.

The sudden intrusion stirred the hive of employees as they raised their dull eyes to see who disturbed the swarm.

For a split second, Ai had a sinking feeling that this was his department. The tin can they planned to shove him into like a sardine. He could sense the monotony, the death of individuality, and the ceaseless grind of labor.

The lady next to him stretched out her arm to present the staff. “This is Research Division 3. They are in charge of recording information in our database and editing any changes, if necessary. They are highly essential and support all other divisions with the utmost efficiency.”

She cleared her throat. “Attention everyone. I would like to introduce our new Intelligence Analyst who will be joining the Investigation Division - Ai Nielsen.”

As a slow rumbling applause began to pick up speed, Ai gave a curt nod in grateful silence that this, in fact, was not his division.

His introducer resumed as the claps quieted, “Please familiarize yourselves and look forward to assisting him in the near future.”

Here, she stepped back and made a motion for Ai to walk around and acquaint himself. It was an uncomfortable task, and, within seconds, deemed unnecessary. Three women of varying heights, sizes, and ages accosted him from the side.

“Hello there! It isn’t every day we get someone new. I’m Annette.” She tucked a hair behind her ear.

The second wiggled her way in front. “A shame they are locking you away in that other division. Our division could use a refreshment like you to lighten the mood. I’m Suzanne. At your service, o-kay?” Suzanne shook his hand vigorously and winked.

“Thank you…” Ai started. “Nice to meet you both.”

The third leaned forward for a closer look. “Your hair is gorgeous! Do you moisturize it? I wish other men would take some interest in things like that.” The woman named Hayley glared at a fellow coworker who simply scoffed into the air.

“Yes, well...occasionally.” Ai responded.

The swivel chair creaked heavily as the other coworker got up from his desk to meet Ai.

“Damn, you’re tall,” he said upon approach. “What’s your height?”

Ai took a step back for a better perspective on the other man, trying his best not to appear condescending. “Uh, 6’3” he stated quietly.

“Hmm...got it all, huh bud. In any case, welcome aboard. I’m Brent.” He held out his hand.

“Appreciate it.” Ai took his hand and shook it.

Several others saved him the effort of moving around and came to introduce themselves with either starstruck or cautious mannerisms.

Perhaps Research Division 3 wasn’t as lifeless as it seemed to be.

However, Ai wasn’t in any rush to dive further into the sea of desks for meet-and-greet.

Instead, he took in his surroundings again.

As if large windows weren’t enough, the ceiling had a skylight as well. 

Ai held up his hand like a visor, shielding his eyes from the brightness. The constant sunlight from all angles made Ai more tired, but at least he didn’t have to worry about monitoring his temperature. Though the A/C was on, the air inside was still warm. His hands were warm too - or at least warm enough to be considered human.

Dropping his hand back down to his side, he noticed someone nearby pointing at him.

Two ladies stood on a ledge, looking down. They had very strong auras, different from any of the people he had met at the facility thus far. One, long haired, self-contained, pointing at him with a snide smile like he was the new specimen in the lab. The other, short haired, refined, staring at him with her undivided attention like it was just the two of them in the world.

Something about her made him want to hold on to this moment, freeze it in time - forever enchanted by her sparkling olive green eyes and the pixie cut curve of her hair. Yet, something else tugged on his heart, these feelings were dangerous - her look was dangerous. Like she could see through him. See him for who he was.

He broke eye contact first.

Turning back to his guide, he made a slight gesture at the two women coming down to their level. “More people to introduce?”

Wide-eyed, his companion gasped and checked the time, then let out a sigh of relief. “Threw me for a loop there. It’s a little early and we weren’t actually supposed to be meeting yet. Higher-ups shouldn’t be walking around so much.” She muttered these things more to herself, but Ai garnered enough to know the two women coming toward them were important.

Ai waited for his guide to set the pace, then proceeded after her with small strides to cover the distance.

Soon, all four of them stood under the spotlight of the ceiling.

His attendant greeted them warmly with a flourish of gestures, mentioning how time just moved so quickly and how she was going to bring him up to their division floor soon, but they were making stops along the way, and so on and so forth.

Up close, Ai noticed the woman he had locked eyes with not only had short hair, but also was very petite in stature. He purposely gave her some space so as not to appear menacing or hover over her.

Once the friendly exchange amongst the ladies was over, his guide gave him a proper introduction and presented Ai.

Now with a name to match the face, he held out his hand to the lady in front of him, “Pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you, Mimi.”

Unlike so many of the names he had forgotten thus far, he would do his best to remember this one.

[verbalucis]

Prejudice

The heavy curtain covered the window again as the boy was yanked away, the silver sheen of his irises turning dark.

“Don’t look outside! They might see you!” The young woman’s hand shook his wrist as if trying to emphasize the point.

He peered up at her with a quiet gaze under tufts of soft blue hair.  

She let out a sigh and sank to her knees. “Remember what mommy and daddy said?” Pointing to the window, she looked straight into his eyes. “There is a war out there.”

Taking her little half-brother’s shoulders in her hands, she pulled him closer - close enough to share secrets of the real world. “If they find you, they will kill you.”

The boy looked down at the sound of the bad word. He didn’t know what happened when people chose to kill, but he knew that the receiving end didn’t come back - just like so many of their family members and friends.

“Do they have to?” He mumbled.

“Huh?” It was such an odd question, she was taken aback.

“Do they have to kill me, Rosalyn?” He gripped the outsides of his pockets and faced her.

She stifled a laugh at his sincerity. Almost sorry that she had mentioned anything.

“Ai, you’re so weird. Just stay out of trouble and stay out of sight, then you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

She tousled his hair, then lifted him into her arms. “Let’s go to your room. Our parents should be home soon.”

Notes: Ai is a halfblood. Mom died in the Human v. Vampire war. They thought she was a vampire because she was living amongst them. And, when her son accidentally slipped a glow of red eyes (because he was too young and didn’t have full control over his vampire side), they filled her up with bullets. Having sustained multiple injuries to protect Ai, she died of significant blood loss.

Ai’s father returned to find the body of his wife battered into an unrecognizable form, lying in front of the doorstep with their son locked inside. After suffering much grief, he visited their close family friend - a widow and her daughter, only to find that they had also been attacked, but he was able to turn them into vampires in the nick of time. Since Rosalyn and her mother were good friends with Ai’s mother, they are very kind to Ai and are both keen on raising him well and protecting him.

20 years later Colorado, USA

Ai ran a hand through his hair, combing loose ends to pull it up and away from his neck into a bun. The summer heat was not doing him any favors and weighed down on his tall frame.  

The suit didn’t help either, but he couldn’t justify going undercover into a government organization looking like he stepped out of a pool. Everything was at stake - his family, the religious sector, maybe the entire vampire population.

But no pressure, they had said.

Just go in and bring back information. If it’s no harm to us, then it’s no harm to them.

Just a normal job -- but one only he could do because he was a dhampir, a halfie.

Some might have scorned him for that, but if he could pull this off, no one would mock him. He would become a hero to all vampires.

Ai pulled out his phone to check the time and messages.

9:50 AM. No new messages.

Ever since they had enforced the rules on daylight savings, restricting vampires to go outside after hours, and limiting blood supply to vending machines, Rosalyn had been struggling in her daily activities. Of course, as an actress and entertainer she couldn’t let it show on stage, but in the back room she fell apart - devouring blood packets and spending hours complaining about headaches and lack of energy.

As a responsible younger brother, Ai had done his best to scour the area and collect as many packets as possible. On days when the vending machines were dry and he came back empty-handed, he and his father turned to the religious center for help. After waiting for hours in line, they received a precious stock which they gave up to Rosalyn and her mother. Ai’s father was well known and respected, so their rations were more than others, but it was still never enough.

At one point, the need became so great that Ai’s father began showing signs of irritation. Afraid that his downfall would lead to their family’s demise, Ai mixed portions of his own blood into his father’s beverages hoping it would suffice. Though extremely watered down, it was enough to wet his father’s tongue to calm him down.

Perhaps out of desperation or necessity, Ai had met with the counsel at the religious center and asked for advice on how to remedy the fall of vampire society. Unbeknownst to Ai, discussions were held and plans were made, and now here he was - at the forefront of the effort, a key player in revolutionizing and transforming the new world. Humans and Vampires were once again at a crossroad - either compromise or war was upon them. Depending on what information and news he gathered, there would be a final meeting of the powers that be.

Nearing his final destination, he could tell that some serious investment had gone into the remodeling and construction of the building. The outskirts boasted beautiful rose gardens and towering juniper trees. Marbled white and gray slates adorned the foot paths and stairs up to the front doors. The scenery reminded Ai of the riches vampires once had - before they fell from glory.

The most unappealing part of the building was the ceiling to floor glass windows encircling the floors. An entirely unfriendly vampire environment, no doubt. Ai did take notice that there were some tinted windows and an entire top floor completely blocked out from the sun.

At the entrance of the building, there was a small brochure container. Ai assumed it was most likely for politicians and high ranking officials, not mere passerbys or school field trips. Still, out of curiosity, he took one and opened it.

Research facility specializing in the study of vampires.

The mere headline put Ai on edge.

Studying what about vampires? What kind of mad scientists would he have to deal with on a daily basis?

He tried hard to wipe the bias from his thoughts, but it still sat at the forefront of his mind.

Fortunately, a greeter interrupted his perusal of the leaflet.

“Ah, the new hire? Mr -”

“Ai is fine. Thank you.” He raised his hand for familiarity’s sake. It would be too strange to be addressed as his father.

“Very well then, Ai. Allow me to escort you to your department.”

The lady turned on her pumps and clacked away across the tiles in the direction of the elevators.

Ai followed while curling a finger into his hair tie and pulling out the bun. Locks of blue rippled down his face and he combed his fingers through, hoping there were no unruly knots.

In the reflection of the elevator doors, he seemed presentable. Perhaps even enough to catch a few glances of other lab coats and his female attendant.

It was a good thing the doors didn’t scan his heart beat or nervous system, because he couldn’t say they were doing as well as his outer appearance. But at present, he had enough to distract him from how he was feeling. His goal - his mission - his intent - was to listen, to absorb, and to learn.

[verbalucis]

The walls of this house aren't thick enough to hide the slander that festers on your tongue and keeps me awake at night.

Lux

[verbalucis]

When a piece of fiction comes to life, it is because of the life invested in it.

Lux

[verbalucis]

We all have our idiosyncrasies. Some more than others.

Lux