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 Tipsy, You wanted answers...
Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: Apr 21 2017, 08:37 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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He was supposed to have called Alana the next night. He hadn’t. Again he’d messaged her, infuriated her undoubtedly but he’d had little choice; there was simply too much to be done. Gabe had refrained from mentioning the word which would have sent her on a warpath – Calpulli, but it was truth. He held no position within their ranks, nor did he ever want to but because of who his sire was it was inevitable, to turn his back on her organisation simply wasn’t an option, it showed disunity, and from a fledgling and sire bond, that was unthinkable. So a day turned into two, three, a week and then maybe more.

When he did finally show his face on her doorstep after a fortnight of finding his footings back home, not only was it late, it was to a vampires’ schedule and well and truly after midnight. Some things would never change though, and he’d considered her enough that in one hand was a six pack of beer, not an unusual ‘I fucked up’ gift from Gabe at all. However, in the other hand was the change, the bottle of blood wine for himself, but one of the many he’d imbibed already, something sweet and spiced with fae – the cause for the sway in his step and knocks on the door that hit the door frame one too many times.

“’Lana.” He practically cooed through the door when it wouldn’t open, resting his weight upon the frame, calling her name out in repeat again and again before rising his fist to beat upon the door again. He ‘could’ feasibly stay there all night, finish off his wine by himself and test the limits of whatever endurance and immortality boon he had as a vampire before the sun rose, but he was impatient, intoxicated and entirely abusive of the friendship in which the witch had once had with him…

Enough that she wouldn’t call the police when his hand wrapped around the doorknob and twisted, shattering the lock and prying open the door. He put the picnic supplies of beer and wine down on the nearest table before discreetly closing over the door, for all the good it would do with any breeze to open it once more. He’d make a call in the morning to have repairs made, well someone would have to on his behalf. Once the perimeter was secured and safe he moved about the house, making his way to the kitchen out of habit, instinctively knowing it was Alana’s and there would be food. Food he could not stomach for the life of him, but regardless he searched the pantry, the fridge, calling out Alana’s name over and over as he made himself very much at home.

@Fen
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: Apr 21 2017, 04:44 PM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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She'd been dead asleep, so physically and mentally exhausted from the week with her worrying over her job, herself, her sisters, Maddy, and the clusterfuck of other things going on that she could barely focus on grading papers that night and had actually passed out early, around nine o'clock even. Sleep had been difficult for her to get ever since the Breach and even worse after the Rebellion, to the point where she had a bottle of prescripted pills kept in the drawer of her bedside table when such a need arose. The usual teas and other remedies just seemed to stop working over time, though she knew it was all due to stress. As organic and natural as she liked to be, there were just some things that one had to bend on when it came to allowing medically enhanced chemicals to be ingested.

She'd not heard her name being called at the start, though what did alert her was the ward on her door going off, flipping some mental switch in her head that was enough to jar her awake. Having been lying on her stomach, Alana pushed herself up, eyes still half closed, though it was like someone had splashed cold water on her. She looked around for a quick, frantic sweep, unsure at first as to why she had came to, as well as assuring herself she wasn't dreaming, before hearing noises in her kitchen. Instantly her heart started to beat hard and fast while she reached over on the other side of the bed, beneath the right set of pillows and pulled the .38 out from it. Once on her feet, shaking off the heavy sleep, Alana trailed off towards her door, listening, both hands on the gun while a sharp breath was taken in. After a moment, her brows furrowed and the voice semi-shouting from the kitchen sounded less warbled in her head and clearly defined as her name, as well as Gabe's voice.

Looking confused, the witch pulled open the door and trailed out slowly, still cautious and wary, gun in one hand now while the other trailed along the wall of her hallway until she could round the corner and see him there, rummaging about her cabinets and the like. "Gabe?" she breathed steadily, brows knitted in together and looking bewildered as to what he was doing. She wondered how he got in but her mind automatically filtered that as knowing it was just Gabe and he had a way of getting in even before his becoming a vampire. "What the hell are you doing?"

One hand still on the end of the wall, other still with the gun, albeit her grip a little lighter on it now, Alana stared and watched as the guy made a fool of himself basically. "You scared the absolute shit out of me." Her tone held a thread of anger and upset to it but it was justified with how fast her heart had been going, only just now starting to settle back down to a normal rhythm. A quick glance to the clock on her stove and she could see that it was well past midnight, which explained a lot she supposed, only to look back to him. "Are you.. drunk?"

Oh for fuck's sake...
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: Apr 22 2017, 05:06 PM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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“There you are.” As he looked up from the plate in which he’d piled cookies, chocolate…. Two minute noodle packets on. This was why he never entertained at home, it was why, even before he’d died, his own pantry was sparse save for maybe a packet of expired crisps shoved somewhere up the back. His look was one of hurt, the pained glance from his eyes as he spotted the gun in her hand as if she was prepared to use it on him, little good it would do beyond hurting like hell. “What are you doing in bed?” A hint of a slur laced his query, the wine in which he had been drinking was purposely known for its effects on his kind; practically pure fae blood aged in some fae based spirit.


“I could tell…”
He muttered as he grabbed his concoction and made his way to the living room, miraculously balancing the tower of amassed goodies for Alana to gorge on, placing it down, but he wasn’t finished; the beer held up and out for her. “Yours. Drink with me. Like old times.” Despite him hitting the bottom of two bottles already and the risk of entertaining a drunk fledgling.


“Maybe….” He raised his bottle to his lips, a hearty swig taken before it too was held out to Alana, and hastily pulled back when he remembered. Even without the blood it was potent enough to probably knock the witch into a comatose state for a good few months. “You wanted to see me remember?” A fortnight ago, before he’d left countless excuses for why he was busy that night, or inviting her somewhere that hell would have to freeze over before Alana would step foot within. “What? Am I drunk? No.” Backtracking, forgetting, he pulled a chair out at the table and sat, nursing the bottle which kept him in his intoxicated state lest whatever rapid regeneration he had tried to fight back against the dilution of all his senses.


“I broke your door.”
He peered up, apologetically, every nuance of his features mocking a pout as if it were mere accident and not legitimate break and enter with a side note of vandalism. “I’ll pay for that. People can come… tomorrow.” He mused as he took another swig, waiting for her to join him, to drink, be merry and feast upon his culinary wonders of ‘shove everything onto a plate’.

@Fen
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: Apr 23 2017, 05:04 PM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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"What are you doing in my house?" was the more important question. She still looked solemn and wary, squinting an eye at him as if not entirely falling for this 'ploy' or whatever of his of happening into her home and acting like he was here for some sort of dinner date. As he walked off with his buffet of random shit, Alana creased her brows further and said tersely, "Gabe." She wanted answers god damn it!

Now he was holding a beer out towards her and wanting her to drink with him? She could only stare in bewilderment again. "Yeah, two weeks ago, asshole," she answered with a growling sigh, knowing there was no real reason to be frustrated or upset with him considering he was drunk and therefore not likely to take anything she said or did with a grain of salt right now. "Don't you lie to me." It was insulting. A roll of her eyes came before she glanced off down the hall to where her front door was. While she couldn't see that far down, much less in the darkness it was shadowed in right now, she'd simply take his word for it. "I don't care about the stupid door, Gabe."

Frowning, Alana moved over, placing the pistol on the end table that was against the wall behind the living room couch before wandering over towards him in the dining area. She didn't have to worry about leaving it out in the open right now considering Maddy wasn't here. Obviously wide awake now, she flipped on the light to the area and drew herself closer to the table he was seated at, watching him both curiously and intensely. What had gone so wrong or bad or awful that he had decided to go get himself shit-faced drunk and wander his way to this side of town to her new home?

"What's happened?" she asked now, voice quieter and softer, the initial shock and anger of having what she thought to be some burglar or something in her home worn off. It was mostly replaced with annoyance though, given the fact of it being Gabe, who'd given her excuse after excuse for days and days only to randomly show up in the middle of the night and scare the shit out of her. Fortunately, she at least would ease into a chair across from him, resting her hands atop the table and looking concerned as to what had triggered this kind of 'response' in him that spurred him to come see her now rather than before of his own accord.
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: Apr 26 2017, 10:15 PM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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It did not require any supernatural skill to feel those eyes burn upon him as if extracting his deepest, darkest secrets. Fuck, it was Alana, which meant she probably was. ”I don’t need an invite Alana.” Except perhaps for courtesies sake, of which he had neither; courtesy nor invite, but on the technicality of what he was, he didn’t need one to cross the threshold else he’d be dead or burning up, or whatever the stories told.

“I was busy.” A vague response, but hadn’t he always been curiously quiet about what he got up to, at least where secrets were involved, or the Resistance and he was certain that Alana wanted to know nothing about anything to do with particular aspects of his life – namely where his sire was concerned. “I’m not lying!” He shot back with more venom than necessary, keeping her in the dark was his way of protecting her, even if it meant sometimes he came bearing surprises like vampirism.

He shrugged, too bad there would be someone out to fix the door come morning, even if he had to rope one of the Calpulli goons in to play locksmith… door repair or whatever it was; the thought processes were lacking in his bid to drown himself in a haze of inebriation. “That’s bright.” He remarked with a furrow of his brow as the light was switched on, forgetting that while he needn’t necessarily require the light to see, the witch did. He pushed the plate of amassed goods her way, even passing the bottle he was chugging in same before retracting the latter just as quick; habit to share with the witch hard to shake but she didn’t need to be drinking what he was.

“What do you mean?” He queried like he needed a reason to visit the girl he’d known practically all his life. “Do I need a reason to visit you now?” He took another swig, then another, and another, he needed to keep on top of his game lest his body try to heal what he was doing to it. “Was going through my old apartment.” He mused, no, the haunting memories of who he’d been hadn’t served as a catalyst for the state in which he now found himself in.“Thinking of moving back in now that there’s no set… restrictions to living quarters.” He had a lot of work to do, he needed to install shutters to block the ample windows from murdering him in his sleep, the small kitchen space, hell, was made for a vampire. “Found some old things of mine…” Books, talismans, charms, ingredients…

Nothing important.

@Fen
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: Apr 27 2017, 01:40 AM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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"When it's my house, you do," she corrected him darkly, giving a knowing look that the Gabe she knew wouldn't have been such an ass before. Of course, that Gabe was sober and little less mixed up in a number of things before now. She continued to hold him down with that glare even as he claimed he wasn't saying anything other than the truth. Only time would tell, she supposed.

A glance to the plate was given only for her to look back his way, obviously entirely disinterested in the 'goodies' that were there in offering from her own cupboards. A brow quirked at the quick offering of the bottle before it was retracted. Yeah, no way was she drinking that stuff. Another knowing look was given to him as she canted her head, eyes still solemn but with a sliver of softness there to buffer it all. "You know that's not what I meant," she murmured. Soon enough, he coughed up the answer though and it instantly made her shoulders physically drop. "Why?" Why move back to a place that was only going to give him painful, terrible memories of time's passed? "I'm surprised it's still vacant."

Unless... it wasn't, in which case, what the fuck, Gabe? Rather than ask that now, as he was very clearly drunk and not in the right mind to be answering much of anything with any common sense, Alana just sighed and tried to relax a little more while they spoke, reaching over to rest a hand atop his closest wrist. "You shouldn't do that to yourself, Gabe. You coming back should be seen as something of a 'fresh start' or.. at the very least, the turn of a new leaf? Get yourself a nice apartment or condo or something."

She was sure he could with the amount of money he was probably rolling in now. No excuse to be living in some place that only a manager of a thrift shop could pin down. Biting at her lip, she wondered if she ought to tell him that she'd actually gone and packed up a good bit of his stuff. He'd already given her a number of boxes of ingredients and other witch paraphernalia but after his leaving and what the Rebellion had one, she'd grabbed what she could to preserve for him on that very thin thread of hope that he'd return one day... Only now it seemed cruel to possibly give it all back considering the memories that were attached to them- a few being photos of his pre-vampire life. For now, she'd leave it.

"We've talked about this before, Gabe," Alana whispered, shaking her head slightly and trying not to frown. "You have to stop dwelling on all this. I know it's... difficult... but there's still a lot of things to look forward to. You just have to keep that in mind despite every and anything." Squeezing his arm gently, the witch swept her thumb to and fro along the back of his hand, trying to look encouraging but it was hard to do when she could scarcely even take her own advice for once...
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: Apr 29 2017, 09:27 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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“Not what I meant.” He muttered quietly, he had meant as far as there were no limits physically preventing him breaching her home, no rules that meant the undead needed an invite. “Never used to before…” He’d remark back as if that was his only means to fall back upon, even if before he’d been a witch and an impromptu visit generally came with a message en route.

“It’s mine.”
There was his defiance, his reluctance to relinquish the few possessions and pieces of his past he had. He’d worked hard to buy the apartment and the store, the latter of which he’d sold. The apartment was his, it was honest, it was clean. “I never rented it out, never sold it either and since I’m not a baby anymore.” The vitriol somehow crept into his tone, not at his sire, merely the memory of those first few months to a year where he needed her to control his urges, even if he still was very much an infant in a vampires’ eyes.

“Do what Alana? Remind myself that I’m not a witch anymore?”
He slammed the bottle down hard enough to topple a few loose items from his tower of food. “I don’t need an apartment to do that, I just have to look around.” That his coming back was anything but welcome now that he was home, even before they’d left Europe he’d viewed the return with mixed emotions; in Rome he didn’t have to hide what he was. He didn’t here either, but it was all a construct of his own imagination and personal demons. “My apartment is fine.” And that was his final word on the matter.

“I’m not dwelling on anything, I was just cleaning out my apartment. It’s not a switch Alana, I can’t forget what magic felt like, I can’t ignore what this feels like. This is my life now.” If he was honest, when he fed, he didn’t want to ignore that sensation, that thrill as his features crumpled in tune with his thoughts.

When she reached out to touch him, he let it linger a moment longer before snatching his hand away and reaching forward to grab a twinkie, not Alana’s usual homemade fare but it hardly mattered when he’d not taste a damn thing that was remotely appealing. Tearing the packet open he took a bite, chewing awkwardly, and open mouthed as if he’d spent years out of practice – and he had. “Did I ever tell you how I knew her. Why she saved me… or why it was in her best interests?” He indicated at the plate again as he forced himself to swallow to chunk of cake, already fighting the urge to regurgitate as he shovelled down another bite.

@Fen (sorry it's shit I have been buried in legislation all day and my brain is mush)
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: Apr 29 2017, 04:41 PM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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A straight forward, hard-lined look of 'bullshit' was pressed his way when he made that statement. He'd never just barged in on her place before like this save for the one or two times when he'd been decently injured and in need of immediate medical attention. Those times when he couldn't go to a hospital because of anonymity's sake and yet had so few others to rely on for a patch-up job when there was ever ready Alana there to use the number of spells or bandages she had on hand.

"All right. Okay," she voiced, practically putting her hands up in a verbal way to show that she got it. "Just surprised since it's been.. four or five years.." And the fact that he'd held on to it for that long despite not being here was a curious thing but not something she'd get into. When he slammed the bottle down onto the table, she actually jumped a bit, feeling her heart beat spike and continue to speed in its pacing for the following few seconds until it eased back down as she closed her eyes, took a breath and tried to steel herself. She'd never really reacted in such a way towards him before in the handful of times he'd made such a motion or noise, however sudden. A moment later, the woman opened her eyes and looked his way, keeping her lips pressed in a thin line of composure before she whispered back to him, "That's not what I meant..."

Just his past life in general. His ties to those he'd known and lost or still saw on the streets. A house could be an infliction of a cage made of memories that only felt like it was slowing closing in on a person. She knew from experience...

"I know, Gabe," she said tersely, yet voice still soft and low. She wasn't trying to patronize him or make him feel like he could be doing more than what he already had. Hell, she couldn't even imagine what the transition must be like but it felt like history was just repeating on her way too soon. First her younger sister and now her closest friend...

When he snatched her hand from her, Alana frowned and curled her fingers in against the table, a lance of hurt searing its way through her chest. Seeing him like this was just... painful. Terrible. Then, as if to make matters worse, he was going about opening a snack pack as if he could freely indulge in such delicacies still. "Gabe," she murmured in warning, though he persisted in chewing and swallowing it down. Setting her jaw, Alana fell quiet. If he wanted to continue to be a child about such a thing and reap the consequences within the hour for it, so be it. "No, because you offered to and I said I didn't want to know." After taking a breath however, Alana looked off and idly pulled one of the beers over. She was definitely going to need a drink after all this and while beer wasn't her preferred alcohol of choice, it was the closest thing and he'd gone out of his way to make the gesture with it. "But if you need to get it off your chest..."

She was willing to listen of course. Back then, it'd just been too soon and therefore to painful to bear. Not that it might be any different now.

"I always got the sense that you were keeping things from me," she admitted, glancing over to him while popping open the can, "and I knew why." As anyone ought to when they had done the same, like she had- to protect those they cared about. "You didn't want me getting mixed up in it all- whatever it was you were involved in." She glanced back to him after taking a long, hardy swallow from the can. At least the brand he'd gotten wasn't the worst, though she still struggled not to make a face from it. "I figured it was maybe drugs or something at first... but you didn't show any of those signs, so then I thought it was something a little more... reasonable." Licking her lips, Alana straightened up in the chair and held his gaze with a hard sort of warmth. "Like the Resistance."

Of course, that was just all speculation and she had a feeling Gabe was about to come clean with proving her right or wrong on that front.

(Pffft, shush your face. It was just fine!)
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: May 5 2017, 02:58 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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“Yeah apparently it’s still standing.” Which was testament enough that neither hordes of Ferocious or the Resistance hadn’t lain waste to his apartment, even better odds since the Resistances rise to power came at the expense of many of the supernaturals who had given much, too much, for their cause. “Maybe if Tennanbaum had known I had a place there he’d have bombed it.” With inebriation came the removal of any filters, dropping Resistance names with ease.

When he slammed the bottle down though his gaze fixed on her, the escalated beating of her heart awakening that part of him he denied existed, fangs inching out slowly in anticipation as Gabriel stared watching as Alana calmed herself. There wasn’t as much concern to his features as there should have been, a face a mask of nothingness, eyes watching the pulse entranced. “Yes, you did. Not in those words but it’s the same.” Move on, adapt; he was sick of hearing those sage words of advice from everyone in his life now.

He tasted nothing, the sugary treat as bland as if he’d eaten cardboard and already he felt his insides churning against that which wasn’t blood. Still, he had ignored her protest stuffing the entire treat inside his mouth, chewing openly, inexperienced. She kept talking as he rose, stumbling and near falling over his chair until he made his way back to the kitchen and turning the tap on. It was messy, it was uncouth, and most certainly revolting as he spat back up the desert, a mulch of chewed sponge and blood; so much blood. He remained hovering, glancing up only when he was certain he’d expelled the contents, wiping a hand across his lips to smear at the blood staining them.

“She wanted in.” Zala. Calpulli. He laughed as he finally turned the tap off, making his way back to the table and reaching for the blood wine, swilling what was left, only to find the bottle empty. Frustrated, he set the bottle down again, letting it drop and roll along the table as he sat down once more. “I told you. It’s why I was caught.” He implored, still far too drunk as he leant in, his words over emphasised, he'd gone over the basics when he'd first met her again after his turning. “The mafia helped the Resistance, shh.” With that he held a finger to his lips, swaying in his seat. “I could contact Ryder, if Nikolai had found them first…. She’d lose her shot and they’d all be dead. So…” He gestured at himself, at the state, the species he found himself as. “If they found out, we’d all get killed.” An edge of seriousness, a quiet contemplation as he glanced at Alana. "Anyway, what about you?" He inquired, the sincerity lost to drunken slurs.
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: May 5 2017, 03:42 AM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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She frowned at that. Some might say that Gabe's apartment having still stood against the test of time and the horrific events that had taken over from it was perhaps a sign that he could persevere through all this. Not just with himself but the world. It was also possible that she could be reading too much into it all, though her younger sister was the tarot reader. Alana simply stuck to auras.

As he got up and make his way to the sink, the witch watched him worriedly, twisting around until she had to turn the other way around to continue. Her frown creased even further on her features as all he'd just ate and most of what he'd previously drank seemed to rebel against him, coming back up just as she suspected it would. Of course she knew Gabe had experienced all this well before now with the do's and don't's of how to be a vampire. He was just being stubborn and defiant though to what end, she couldn't quite determine just yet. At least he seemed to not be having any other ill effects from it and he returned back to his seat, her eyes staying on him all the while.

"Ryder O'Connell?" she quizzed, raising a brow. Did he know that guy personally? Not that it mattered anymore since there was rumors that he'd left town after the whole council thing had been pinned. What he'd said before that though had stunned her, not that it showed on her face just yet. Why would the Calpulli help the Resistance? That didn't seem to make any sense unless it was more of a power move. "So... Zala turned you as a means of keeping you from spilling things about the Resistance and Calpulli plans, though keeping you protected from any backlash in turn." Since killing a sire's fledgling was basically a felony anywhere on this side of the country. She was trying to wrap her head around all this and understand considering Gabe wasn't in a coherent enough state to really spell it out for her.

Reaching up, elbow propped on the table, Alana leaned forward and down, idly running her fingers through her hair and down along the back of her neck. "What about me?" If he was asking how she'd been or what she'd been up to, that was a long story that would take up more than the hours they had before daylight. "I've got the same story as anyone else who was left behind."

Not just by friends but just in general of having not been able to get evacuated all that easily like all the figureheads and highrisers. "Except for the part where your friends made a building fall on top of me..." The statement was uttered sarcastically just as much as solemnly, something glazing there in her eyes as she stared at him then gradually shifted her sights down to the table. Other things had happened before that but she wasn't ready to go back to those memories. "Was in a coma for two months. Told I almost didn't make it there in the beginning." Sullenly, those crystal blue hues shifted back to Gabe, lingering there with a certain kind of pain there. "Funny how I survive a night of horror with Ferocious running around but the minute humanity does anything..." She'd nearly been buried six feet under, if even at all. "Wanna know the worst part about it all though?"

It was basically a rhetorical question but she gave pause to let him slide in an answer or snippy comment regardless, only to sit up somewhat straighter than she had been and locking her hands together with her arms stretched out in front of her along the table top. "None of that had ever stopped me from thinking about you." Where he was, what he might have been forced to do, and the cold hard fact that she had thought, as well as been told by him directly, that she'd never get to see him again. Looking off, Alana rubbed at an arm, taking in a breath and closing her eyes as she slowly shook her head, dark locks falling into her face. "Now you're back and... I don't know. I feel like I actually have a second chance to tell you what I was never able to before you left."

Given that his goodbye had came in a letter rather than from his own lips, something of which she'd wanted to deck him for over the years but now... she was just glad she'd even gotten to hug him that other night.
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: May 6 2017, 08:18 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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Without a bottle to occupy his hands, they splayed out on the table in front of him to steady the sway he felt in his bones, so rare, so fleeting was the very human sensation of inebriation; he didn’t even think of the cost of the stock he’d imbibed tonight, the rare blends of fae blood and wine designed to grant his kind intoxication. “Yeah.” He muttered as if it was nothing of note, his familiarity with the one time Resistance leader as the taste of the wine lingered on his lips, smeared across as he tried to lick them clean to grasp the last vestiges of the liquid.

Alana’s questioning brought a smile to his lips, a hark back to when he was first approached by his mistress and his own distrust and curiosity at what exactly a criminal organisation wanted with the human resistance. “Close.” He leant forward again, closer to Alana, these secrets were still dangerous to share when his own life was in the hands of two others as well as his own. “When I was caught, they still needed me to contact Ryder. I called for her, last card…” He trailed off, brow furrowing as if remembering a nightmare that was still so fresh even after all these years. “…It’s complicated, but she got her way into the Resistance and I didn’t get them killed.”

He’d left out the part where he’d not truly been given a choice when the missive was handed down, that he was supposed to be a pawn, a mole spilling Resistance secrets to the DN or how much his sire had risked, the friendship of her own she had destroyed in saving Gabriel. “Even being a vampire doesn’t protect you from treason.” He’d bowed to Isaac, pledged the feigned allegiance to the Master of the City whilst he helped aide his downfall.

“I didn’t have a choice. Now you know why we had to leave, when and how we did.”
The tone held an edge, an argument in retaliation for the implication he had simply left because it had been easier even if the gentle sway of his drunken state ruined the introspection. He didn’t need to explain how his bond worked and how he could not deny Zala her demands; he left willingly only because if he didn’t she would force him.

“What do you mean my friends?” Rage flashed across his eyes, red slowly replacing blue. Calpulli had left, those that hadn’t didn’t because they did not make the boat, those that stood their ground and made sure that those that could leave did so safely. Then he realised, grimaced snarl bearing the hint of fangs to complete the eyes and the truth of what he was. “The ones that rose up were not my friends, they wanted freedom, not the death of us all!” Even if Gabriel being a vampire had been a blow, an obstacle to overcome, the man would not seek Gabriel dead, nor the one who made him.

He stood, glaring, the chair behind him crashing to the floor, near tripping over as he stepped aside and paced back and forth around the table; he had no words. Fists balled, knuckles white as he stormed in silence; there was no one to take his revenge on, Derek had been executed as had those who had aided him. “What could you possibly tell me Alana?” There was darkness to his tone, a venom laced in sarcasm. “I gave up everything to protect them and the wrong ones rose up to take the city and now what….” The disillusion crept in, sadness wiping away the anger as he fell into a different chair. “I was supposed to be a witch when this happened… not this.” Now he was hated, despised, a witch would have been no different perhaps but witches could hide, witches hadn’t been the cause for the farms, the enslavement – that had been vampires.

Now his comfortable life had been compromised, rules applied to feeding, the humans grew arrogant and strong, they knew vampires' weaknesses and the balance of power had shifted and he didn't know if he was comfortable with that.
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: May 8 2017, 05:22 PM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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Alana frowned deeply at that. That kind of trade was certain one to alter one's life but what Gabe had gone into had transformed it quite literally and far beyond the usual. She didn't know much about those kind of things other than from what she'd seen on tv shows or on True Crimes but just the thought of him having basically be caught then backed into a corner like that... "I imagine they eventually pardoned you of all that?" Else he wouldn't even really be here right now, Zala's fledgling or no. Though maybe they'd gotten the same kind of information that they'd wanted out of Gabe from someone else and he'd been a fish cut loose. "I'm sorry all of that happened to you, Gabe."

She'd told him that once before when he'd first made his confession and shown up as vampire, only she'd not known the extent of it then as she did now. The kind of hole he must have felt like he was in- dark and deep with literally no way out other than just digging himself a tunnel into even more darkness. The woman nodded solemnly as in agreement that she understood now that he really didn't have a choice in the matter of his leaving, though still felt a bit of a wound there with how he'd said his goodbyes. Perhaps it'd been due to a rush of time and she was likely even lucky to receive such a letter but a part of her was still cracked and brittle over the whole thing.

Setting her lips thinly, Alana watched as he snarled and got his feet, brashly correcting her. Perhaps what she'd said had been a bit harsh but if he was in Resistance than Gabe had likely known at least a handful that had been apart of the cause of the city's overthrowing. Nevertheless, she sat there in silence, patiently waiting for him to settle back down while he still snapped at her icily. "Gabe...," she whispered softly, looking both pleading and urging to him as she reached over to set her hand to his, letting a bit of her ability filter through to ease the intensity of his body and mind. Her calm and collective state to be trickled over and shared, enough to at least help him clear his mind from most of the anger and distress. "Hey... Look at me." Tipping her head, Alana squeezed at his hand softly. "Please?"

She gave him a moment as to either oblige or deny her but would start to speak afterwards regardless of his choice. "What you are doesn't make who you are," the witch whispered, eyes becoming warm and imploring, willing him to not only understand this but to step forward once at least towards accepting it. Moving her hand from his, it came to rest against the side of his face, palm against his jaw with fingers grazing against his neck and thumb sweeping up against his cheek. "I know I can't imagine what it was or has been like for you in any given sense, from the start to now."

Being drug into an entirely different group of people and forced to leave his home, as well as all he'd ever known, for years now, thinking he'd never return be it by one reason or another only to return when barely half a decade had passed.

"But you're still here," she went on to whisper, leaning forward slightly and looking to him both adamantly and encouragingly. "And so am I." Despite being on far too different roads, they'd still somehow had managed to meet at the same crossing of here and now. It seemed a rare and strange thing and Alana was not one for always taking such meetings as coincidence. "I'm here and I want to help however I can, if I can... if you let me. I might not be able to do anything about what you are, but I can about who and that's the only part of you that matters."

Swallowing, her eyes wandered along what she could see of his person and back to him before appearing beseeching. "If not to yourself then to me." Her hand fell away to rest over his wrist, eyes still locked with his. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it before all this... but I have since you left. I don't know if that was what it was supposed to take or if I was just... scared, but reading that letter when the whole world felt like it was going to come apart made me realize how stupid all of that was." Especially when she'd never even gotten to say it but now, as she'd said before, perhaps this was her second chance for that. If nothing else, at least he'd know and maybe that'd make some kind of difference for the better with him? She could only hope at least. "I love you."

For all that she'd tried to keep it in, Alana felt her eyes start to mist over. She wasn't afraid or thought herself silly over it all anymore, aside from what he might think in turn, but even part of that didn't matter so much as long as those three words had gotten out there and heard by his own ears from her own voice. "You don't have to say it back. In fact, I don't expect you to do anything," so much in the sense that he didn't have to suddenly feel like he needed to enact upon it, much less respond, so much as it was just acknowledged, "but... I had to say it. I think apart of me always has even before all this happened to you." When he was still a witch. So obviously his physical change meant nothing in holding weight on the decision for putting it out there. "I just... wanted you to know, before the next time the city tries to tear itself apart."

Sniffing a bit and letting out a low exhale, Alana started to withdraw her hand from him, not wanting it to overstay its welcome where it rested atop his then went on to wipe at her eyes before even a tear could actually try to blemish either of her cheeks. A moment of silence went by before she thought to offer, "Do you want another drink?"

Because she was sure she had some alcohol somewhere in the house that he could still nurse on, even if it might not hold a real mixture of blood to it. At least alcohol wasn't known for instantly coming right back up seeing as how it tended to be absorbed into the bloodstream and she was willing to break out another bottle of something if he wanted to keep himself nice and intoxicating in all this still. Hell, she needed a drink herself now after all that.
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: May 11 2017, 08:53 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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“Complicated…” He muttered, wry smile lightening the blow that he’d probably not delve to the depths of honesty where the bargaining for his life was concerned. He was supposed to be a mole, that had been the lie his sire had twisted to let him wrangle away; Gabriel assuming now they misjudged the apparent level of interaction, and therefore information he could provide against the Resistance and that Zala had lumped herself with yet another fledgling. It was either that or distrust, but what could they prove now? Gabe was hardly in a position to want to rub noses with the vampire elite.

When she apologised he could only offer a simple shrug, apologies and pity would not return what was lost to him, in truth he despised the eyes that would pass and look upon him with that apologetic stare. The hand was soft and warm, not that his wasn’t, not with the amount of blood he’d progressively imbibed throughout the evening and he wanted to pull back and retract as he felt the press of her magic against his skin, glancing up as requested. “Wrong.” It might have been her spellcraft that took the edge from his remark, the tone softer despite the urgency to intervene and object. “What I am is who I am Alana.” He pleaded as her hand moved to his face and he wanted to push the caress away, even as she proceeded to point out that she could, and if all boded well, would never understand what it was like to be reborn as… this.

This isn’t a switch I can turn off like Sear, it’s not an inconvenience three nights a month.” Though his ignorance would assume that wolves had it that much easier, not that he’d want to be one of those either, even if his options were between only the two. “I don’t just have to drink blood Alana.” His voice grew quiet, pushing himself back but keeping his gaze on her all the same. “I like it.” Even if he understood it was some carnal instinct of what he was, a genetic trait of vampires for survival to enjoy which was once a repulsive thought.

“How stupid what was?” Through the haze, through the words he had zoned out on he finally laughed as she proclaimed what, to him, was common knowledge. “No shit Blackwood, I love you too, you’re like a sister to me. Hell, you three practically are.” He’d pulled back, rocking on his chair, maturity perhaps stilling his tongue from pointing out the exception of Saoirse who was more like a family pet; but what would that have made him?

I said it back, what more do you want?
But she hadn’t meant like that…

“Uh… No… I’m good.” Finally his response after all the pieces began to fall into place, he was certain Alana did not have his drink of choice; or she did but that was a line he wasn’t willing to cross with her. His hand reached to run through his scalp, heavy sigh wasted on a being who did not require it. There wasn’t much which could take the words from his mouth, but she had succeeded. Of course he’d considered it once upon a time, he’d considered each and every one of the sisters at one point in time, probably spurred on by some random remark of him picking someone for a wife, why not one of those Blackwood girls. That had been a lifetime ago.

“Aren’t you with that wolf?”
Absentmindedly trying to steer the conversation while collecting his thoughts. “You know we never could...” There was a heaviness to his words, a stubbornness that he’d not risk the friendship even if there wasn’t the barrier of species, immortality, his peculiarities with bloodletting and the loving relationship Alana had with the other woman who would always be in his life. “It’s complicated.” It was going to be his favourite phrase by the nights end.

“Do you want me to… go?” He still wasn’t clear headed, maybe he had misread the entire event that had transpired, go home and sleep it off and deal with the repercussions of downing a few thousand dollars worth of blood from his mistress and an ear bashing from Alana.
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Alana Blackwood
 Posted on: May 11 2017, 05:34 PM
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age: 38 occupation: Ritiualism Teacher organization: Alkamia Coven posts: 297 gems: 450

Fen

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Shaking her head slowly, the witch argued softly, "It's not." Maybe, in time, he'd see that, especially since he had a lot more of it now than before. It didn't seem to be any time soon though, unfortunately. Still, she would fight with him on this tooth and nail (ironically). "I know it's not." Vampirism wasn't quite like lycanthropy, that much was true. "You think it's not the same for her? She doesn't just deal with it once or three times a month, Gabe." And it was silly of him to think so if that was the case. Werewolves had their own demons to battle just as well. "Of course you do. You're meant to now. The whole thing changes you genetically."

Though she wouldn't bother to get into the actual scientifics of how as non-breathing and nonliving person could still manage to walk, talk, and do all the things they could normally aside from getting a tan or eating actual food. For the most part, it was just chalked up to a different kind of magic than that of witch or fae. Of course, she knew that it could it just be more than what he was adapted to enjoy now, as some vampires went beyond just 'liking' to feed. It was as with anything else- it was only good in moderation.

A look was given as he returned the words, though they weren't quite said in the same way as she had uttered them. No, what she'd felt had come to extend beyond that of a familiar adoration but rather that of physical and emotional attraction. Still, she'd said it, and that was supposed to be all that had mattered. He denied having another drink, though it didn't keep her from rising up from the table to move and find her stash of vodka in the freezer.

"No," she answered with a certain glaze to her eyes. "I don't think we were even really together." Which was the story of her life really. A brow raised as she turned after pouring herself the drink. "Never could what?" she asked curiously, though also in something of a challenge. "Be together? Be happy?" Among a slew of other things, she was sure he was thinking. "Why not?"

It's complicated. She ought to start keeping count of how many times those two words would start to be voiced in her given direction.

"Because what? You're a vampire and I'm a witch? You're linked to the Calpulli," if not actually in it, "and I have a grudge against that she-devil that runs it?" It seemed silly to think that such things couldn't be considered meager enough to allow either one of them to just make a push for something positive, for once, in their lives. "I don't care about either of those things."

Coming back, glass in hand, Alana's gaze became slightly tortured yet still retained their warmth. "No, I don't want you to go," she whispered, shaking her head, taking him by the hand and pulling on him gently to urge him to stand, if only so they could go sit somewhere more comfortable, such as the couch, where she'd set her alcohol down on the coffee table. "I want you to stay, Gabe." Using her now free hand to press back against his cheek, other still staying in his, the witch studied his features intently. "I know you couldn't last time." And she had accepted that, lived with it even. "But this time, you can." After all, why would the Calpulli come back if only to just uproot again elsewhere? Of that, she was at least affirmed that it'd be some time yet before they'd have a want or will to go stealing him away elsewhere. "Please just stay..."

Three words that implied far more than just for the night or the week, even the year, but just for as long as he could. She'd lost so many and so much as it was that, for once, all she wanted was for him to stop keeping her at arm's length from everything that was going on in his life considering the effect it seemed to have on her no matter how hard he tried to keep her out of it. It was like a never-ending, vicious circle. And she was done with having things taken from her or leaving. What she was asking seemed fairly small in comparison to everything else he'd done for her or for others. She'd never been so needy before, something she loathed in the moment, but it was nothing if not evidence that she was steadily breaking piece by piece and in need of something to keep her held together. Even if that something was just knowing that her closest friend, and more, would be here for her until possibly the end of time.
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Gabriel Quinn
 Posted on: May 12 2017, 05:52 AM
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age: (forever) Twenty-Nine occupation: Bridge Burner organization: Calpulli (ish) posts: 299 gems: 1900

Morpheus

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He was not going to argue with her the semantics of the words, that what he was did impact who he was, there was so very much that changed when one turned; it wasn’t simply the physical. It changed everything. “I don’t know, I never contemplated becoming either!” He snapped, albeit quietly, on the outside nothing seemed to change for them, they didn’t have to hide from the sun, they didn’t have to prey upon the living like vultures. “You don’t understand.” He paused, heaviness in his gaze as he contemplated the revelation but the barriers that existed had erased with the alcohol. “It’s the hunt, the heartbeat, the… emotion, it changes how it tastes. You think the bagged stuff suffices?” It dulled the need but it could never compare, even Zala had to suspect his tastes aligned to the fresh variety.

“Seemed like it.” From what he could recall, though he was certain she never knew that her hound, like Gabriel, had been part of the Resistance and right now he wasn’t wanting to shed light on that fact if she was oblivious. She wanted reasons now? He rolled his eyes as the expectation to prattle of excuses, but it seemed she was content to list the obvious ones, his gaze narrowing as the mention of the she-devil. “My sire.” He corrected, he knew the pair had bad blood but it didn’t change his more favourable opinion of the ‘she-devil’. “And yes. And I do.” Care about all of those things.

He followed, only because it was easier, taking a seat on the couch, giving them space between even if her hand still raised to touch his face. “I don’t want any of those things anymore.” A wife, partner, children, there’d been a time when he wanted them but fate had steered him well away from that dream. “I’ll live supposedly forever, I…” He lifted the corner of his shirt to reveal the small tattoo on his abdomen that branded him as hers as if her blood did not already. “You’re my friend Alana, probably my closest, don’t ask me to change that or risk ruining it.”

Even if he wasn’t a vampire he didn’t know if it was a line he was willing to cross, a chance he was willing to take. “I can stay but I have to go before the sun comes up. But I’m not leaving the city, not unless we have to.” As much as he hadn’t wanted to return, to face what he’d left behind.
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