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 Posted: Mon May 11, 2009 8:59 pm
For being heartless, soulless, parasitic leeches, vampires sure did bleed a whole damn lot when decapitated. And on my favorite jacket, too! Sera lamented with a sigh. Well, that’ll teach her to wear favorites on a hunt. But, just because she was feeling petty, she shot the headless corpse again. It barely flinched, didn’t even ooze like the newly dead sometimes will. Just an empty, empty corpse. She sighed heavily again. Her job was only half finished. Headless vamps are usually pretty solidly dead, but she’d heard of some old ones who rose again the next night, found their head, and slapped it back on without a problem. To be really, truly sure, the corpses had to be burned and the ashes sprinkled in at least three separate bodies of running water. And Seraphina was nothing if not efficient.
As she was dragging the new corpses out of their nest (which was really just an old house. Some of the newly turned like the scary-movie effect), she passed by a heavily padlocked door. Strange, she thought to herself. She didn’t notice it on her initial raid. But, then again, she was more worried about not becoming dinner. Er, breakfast. Whatever a vamp’s first meal was called. She made two neat piles in the backyard- bodies, heads. It was a rookie mistake to leave them close together. Who knows, maybe they could crawl back somehow. Sera didn’t trust her luck enough to leave them unwatched. She doused both piles thoroughly with kerosene and carefully lit them up. The smell of flesh burning en masse, though familiar, wasn’t something anyone could get used to. Sera escaped back into the house to be sure she didn’t miss any stray body parts. Which sounded a lot more gruesome then Sera would acknowledge. Business, just business.
The locked door seemed to be screaming at her with its silent vigil. What could vamps possibly have to hide? Whatever it was, she was planning on burning it like the rest of the house. Well, hey, a suddenly abandoned house? Owners gone missing? It was just easier to get rid of the whole thing. As she was laying more kerosene, she had a sickening realization. What if they were storing their victims in there? Well, even though she liked the whole killing monsters bit, protecting humans was a pretty big part of her job requirement. Quickly, she undid as many locks as she could, shot off a few others in frustration. (Shooting things was obviously a stress and anger relief habit. Probably not a healthy one, but hey, it worked, right?)
“Anyone here?” She called out cautiously. Her Vertec was held low in a relaxed two-handed grip. Resting, but her nerves were itching for something to shoot, every sense on alert. Only after she entered the dark room did she realize this might be a trap. Little too late to turn back, though, and if the vamps didn’t run when their comrades got pumped full of consecrated silver shot, they probably wouldn’t be too willing to fight now, either. Anyway, the room seemed clean. No sounds of breathing, no whimpers of pain or begging for lives. It was victim-free. Seraphina fumbled for a light switch and flicked it on. And felt rather stupid for her behavior, because it was just a closest. A rather large walk-in closest, but a closest nonetheless. The only thing in the room was a little safe in the back corner. It wasn’t even closed all the way, like someone had stuffed something in it while in a hurry and didn’t bother to close it. She swung the door open with her free hand, keeping her gun trained on the inside. Paranoid? Nah, more like cautious.
Sitting innocently in the safe was a tiny little gem, no bigger than her thumbnail. It was rounded, polished to a crisp shine even in the dull fluorescent light, and was a very pretty pale hue. She didn’t recognize what kind of gem it was, but it must have been important for the leeches to go through such lengths to hide it. They rarely were that interested in material possessions, so this must be magical. Which posed a whole new set of problems. An item like this could be cursed. Touching it might do something horribly unmentionable to her, like force her to watch nothing but Jerry Springer for the rest of her life, or make her allergic to chocolate. Carefully, she used the hem of her shirt to drop the gem in her pocket, avoiding any direct contact with her skin.
In the morning, Sera left a message for a girl she’d heard of, supposedly some really good researcher or something. Kyrie-something. Kyrie Class? No, that wasn’t right. Close, though. Paranoid as usual, Sera just left her first name and number, saying she found an item of interest and that she would like to have it looked at, please call back at your earliest conveyance.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 3:18 pm
She had a new cell phone, a shiny glossy black thing that matched her eyes with its neon blue backlight and was so tiny she would probably use it if not for the puppycake strap on the loop for just that purpose. In fact, it was so new to her that she took half an hour to wring the voicemails from the inbox. (It involved three different codes to say she wanted one, and then she had to record a message for the answering machine thing, and then she had to choose a new code for it, and it was all very complicated and annoying). Five messages sat in the inbox; two from her daddy; one from Kres, telling her to call her daddy; one from Mr. Fauste, asking for a new supply of something or other that she scribbled into place on her to-do list.
The last was old, a couple days or something, and she listened to it. A first name, a number, and call her back. Brushing her hair back behind one ear, she poked a pair of marbles on her desk. On the one hand, it was incredibly rude to not give a surname, and on the other hand, she'd had pretty bad experiences with people who lacked surnames, and what if this person wanted to turn her into a crazy slave to a demon again? Of course her soul couldn't get sold twice, but she still had her body and her virtue and well there was the whole angel thing, some demons would kill for a bite of an angel's wing, or their eyes.
Were her eyes worth anything?? They were kind of all demon-polluted and stuff, highly inconvenient for eating, or so she thought since she didn't exactly like to eat eyes. The meatiest she'd ever eaten was an eight-ounce steak, and that was over at Uncle Kres's house and she hadn't even finished it. Uncle Kres (who ate bird eyes, sometimes, and also caviar, which as she understood it was fish eggs, and Kyrie just wanted to know who ate fish eggs?) had a kitchen staff and they had been too happy to cook for a growing girl, or so they'd said, and they had given her a raspberry torte for a snack.
But that wasn't even the subject at hand! Sighing, she looked in the missed calls section of her phone. Since she didn't see the name Seraphina in there, she looked in recieved, and there it was, and she wrote down the number at the bottom of the to-do list and promptly forgot about it.
Until she remembered it a day and a half later when she crossed off Mr. Fauste's chore. Feeling rather sheepish, she dialed the number (Durem local, she noted cheerfully) and waiting until someone answered to say, "Hello, this is Kyrie Cross, I'm responding to a call placed by a Seraphina lady? Only it was very rude of you not to leave your name. I am very necessarily neutral and stuff if you are worried about that and stuff."
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 3:44 pm
Sera spent the better part of two days scrubbing out the bloodstains and gore-stench from her clothes. Stupid detergent. She was sure when it promised it could get rid of any stain, it didn't take into account unnatural monster blood. Laundry, plus draft-dodging. As in, writing drafts. Linda was starting to get on to her about yet another late manuscript, and "I got blood on my clothes!" was apparently only a viable excuse the first three times. Actually, Sera got so wrapped up in avoiding Linda, she completely forgot about the gem and her phone call.
After a few more days, when her phone rang, she figured it was just Linda again because, who else would call her? Wasn’t like she had friends to chat up. She finally answered the phone and began with, “Look, I’ll finish it when I finish, keep your pants on,” when she realized the voice was very not Linda’s. It was a lot younger, even younger than Sera. She listened to the girl huff at her, and couldn’t help but be just a twinge annoyed.
“Sorry,” she said when it seemed like the girl was done. She didn’t sound sorry in the least, however. “In my line of work, names have power. I don’t give it out freely, especially on the phone. Be happy you even got my entire, real first name. I’m guessing this is...Ms. Kyrie?” Sera wandered over to her home-made vault (essentially a closet with a protective sigil carved in the door) where she stored cursed items. The gem was in a tiny box, sitting innocently in the middle of the floor. Except the box was covered with wards, and the box itself was in the middle of an evil-binding circle, just in case. “You’re the one who appraises items, right? I found something...odd the other day, and I’m curious to know what it is. Would you mind having a look? I can pay.”
She didn’t do this sort of thing often and didn’t know what the protocol was. But she’d be damned before she let this girl know it.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 4:23 pm
"But I'm not wearing pants," she had said, shocked despite the whole being-demon-cursed and such. Somehow that never prepared you for people answering the phone and telling you to keep your pants on, which was hard, since she wasn't wearing any or a skirt either, just her camisole and panties. She was at home and nobody was supposed to come over, so it was okay, since she was not expecting guests. Was anyone? She checked. No, no one was supposed to. But now Seraphina was done talking and she probably should answer.
Kyrie had to work to get up the proper I-Am-A-Young-Business-Owner-But-I-Am-Not-Stupid tone, since she was an airhead normally, so said the Uncle Kres of Caviar and Bird Eyes. "You don't sound sorry," she said, aiming for politely unhappy but hitting resentful and unhappy. Then her tone zipped back up to cheerfully upbeat. "But that's okay! I wouldn't be sorry either if that's true." Only she was pretty safe, since she could (maybe?) trust Lord Seere, so it didn't bother her (too much).
"You can just call me Kyrie, and yes, I appraise and resource for- for- all kinds of stuff really, I help a demon summoner and a treasure hunter and-" better not to mention the demon "-and the Church, sometimes."
Pause. "I only do consultations in person," she said.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 4:37 pm
Sera decided to ignore the pants thing. So very, very, very not up her alley. The demon summoner bit made her worry, though. She hadn't ever met a demon in person, and she had only done two exorcisms in her life. Summoners, from her knowledge, could sometimes wrangle in the big guns, the Named demons. Which, as far as she knew, didn't die. At least not in any way she ever heard of. And if she couldn't kill it, Sera stayed far, far away. But, the girl also worked with the Church, so that couldn't be so bad, right?
"Understandably so," she answered to the consultations need to be in person. "When would be a good time for us meet? I would like this looked at ASAP." A tiny little polite nodule somewhere deep in Sera's brain hoped she wasn't being too presumptuous. The girl never said she would meet her, after all. Well, Sera told herself, haven't focused on that politeness crap for years. Why start now?
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 4:52 pm
She rolled over, flirted with the doom of falling on her floor, and then righted herself while listening. What did this lady look like? Was she pretty? Kyrie thought she had a pretty voice, so she was probably pretty. Voices tended to match people. Of course, what did that make Lord Seere? Lord Seere had a nice voice. Okay, it was a really, really, really nice voice but--
"Ummm~," she said, pulling herself up by her knees and rolling locations around her head. She didn't want to invite Seraphina to her house; Sam had taught her to never, ever let people in where you were comfortable, even if it was only on accident. "Do you know the little coffee place off of Whitton Boulevard? I can be there in half an hour."
And if Seraphina asked, she had said SOON, and Kyrie aimed to please. (Plus, she had heard -rather slowly like she was stupid- she could charge more for emergencies.) "If that's no good, I'm free again tomorrow a~t..." She flailed for her datebook, finally falling off her bed with an alarming thump, but she sat up right away and said, "At five thirty. Is that better for you?"
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 5:19 pm
This girl kept sounding younger and younger the longer Sera talked to her. She was actually worried she'd be meeting up with one of those ten year olds who were super smart, but still incredibly childlike. Which meant she'd have to be nice and not hurt the kid's feelings. Definitely not a strong point. "I know the coffee shop, it's not far from me. I can meet you there." Now she was glad she spent all that time on laundry. She liked looking "professional" when she met people for her work. Sera was about to hang up when she realized she wouldn't know this girl if she walked up and smacked her in the face, "I'll, well..." she grinned to herself, kind of proud she could introduce herself like this- "I'll be the one in the tattoos." And she hung up. Not much for long goodbyes.
Sera wasn't kidding about the tattoos. Her entire right arm was blotched with ink, a full sleeve. A large, intricate Celtic cross in the middle of her bicep, a yin and yang on the crease of her elbow, an all-seeing eye on her wrist, a pentagram on the back of her hand, and various other swirls and circles and lines that could have meant everything or nothing. Sera knew they were all protective and warding symbols, but only knew for sure that a a few worked, and wasn't even sure if their power transferred over into tattoo form. If nothing else, it was a good palette in case she needed a symbol in a hurry. Hell, the underside of her forearm had a full Latin exorcism incantation.
With a happy little flourish, Sera pulled on her favorite pale blue blouse that complimented her eyes, the one-sleeve burnt orange jacket that showed of her wonderful tats, and orange-red slacks, finished off by simple, comfy black pumps. She fixed up her long blond hair, making sure her layers laid like they were supposed. She paid wayyy too much for this cut, she was damn well gonna take care of it. The finishing touch was her necklace and bracelet, both also loading with protective signs. These, at least, she knew worked- she'd warded off many a vampire with the holy symbols on her jewelry. And it wasn't just crosses; all religious symbols were effective against the leeches. Before she walked out the door, Sera had to do one last thing- make sure her precious Vertec was safely hidden in her handbag. Unlike most women, Sera didn't carry around anything in her purse. Her billfold of money, she kept in the inner pocket of her jacket like a man. The bag was purely for the gun. Habitually, she ejected the clip, checked it, reloaded, and clicked the safety on. Almost as an afterthought, Sera hurried to the vault and carefully, with two fingers, dropped the box in the outer jacket pocket. Would the girl be able to tell if it was cursed? So hoped so; she was getting tired of treating it like it was radioactive.
Now she felt ready. She walked the couple of blocks to the coffee shop, drawing stares because of her odd appearance. Well, she liked it that way, and met the stares with a smug smile. She took a seat at one of the little outdoor tables and watched the crowds muddle by.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 5:59 pm
Well that was even ruder than the greeting and the not leaving her whole name. Really, what was Kyrie supposed to call her, Ms. Tattoo Lady? Ms. Seraphina? No! That sounded dumb. She stared at the glowing screen in consternation and then flipped the cell phone closed. It made a satisfying thwap sound she liked. Her nails, pretty and manicured because she had visited Daddy the other day and Daddy was, well, Daddy.
If that made any sense...
She groaned and leaned forward to grab her closet door, but couldn't quite reach. So she got up and traipsed over to the closet and tucked in her chin while she considered her options- nothing too fancy, of course, it was not a dance, it was a business meeting, so she grabbed a pretty green and white striped polo and a pair of khakis. It was kind of warm out so she could put her flipflops on, too. (They had happy little tamago sushi clips on the place where the thongs met, so it was nice.) Kyrie happily wiggled her toes and picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder (of course she also had normal diagnostic stuff in there and charmed gloves and stuff, which she knew she needed now that she'd almost been killed twice by a pair of enchanted sugar tongs) and wandered out the door.
The cafe ended up to have two ladies with tattoos. Kyrie stood there at the fence, glancing between the two ladies uncertainly. Who the heck was she supposed to talk to? Eventually, she decided that it had to be the one with the armful of tattoos in the bright jacket, and she approached, feeling rather upbeat, but then- that sick, sick feeling of trying to go somewhere she wasn't. Her smile fell for half a moment and then she said, "Hi! Are all of those really tattooed on? That's crazy! I'm Kyrie Cross, by the way, are you Seraphina? It's nice to meet you~"
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 6:09 pm
Well, she's not as young as I thought! Sera thought when Kyrie positively flounced up to her. She was, however, just as bright and chipper as expected. Sera smiled mutely and held out her right hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Kyrie. You can call me Sera, if you want. And yes, they're real tats." Sera was very, very proud of herself. Kindness and politeness, that was the key, right? But...something was weird. The cross tattoo on her arm felt warm, and the holy-symbol necklace (hidden under her blouse) was practically wiggling with energy. Which only happened in the presence of something unholy. Had only happened when she came near a possessed human, and not to this extent. Her smile faded several degrees- absolutely sub-zero, in fact- but her offered hand stayed. There was a reason her dominant arm and hand was tattooed, after all.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 6:19 pm
"Okay, Sera," said Kyrie, at this point fighting to maintain her cheerful demeanor when what she was really wondering was, had she gotten into something bad again? Still... She reached out to take the hand. Surely it wouldn't affect her as badly as stepping into the church would have, since it was only a person. Trying to rationalize her nervousness kept her from noticing the change in Seraphina's smile, at least, and she finally took the woman's hand to shake. Barely a moment later, she let go like Sera's hand was a branding iron and she was the poor victim; her eyes were dilated, pupils completely vanished into blue irises that bled seamlessly into black.
Better than the church, what, it was worse, far worse. It seemed for the barest moment that the world was in the stomach of some great beast and it had just attempted to vomit, the earth around her appearing to seize and now her mouth was dry and her hand was bright red and blistered. Trying to catch her breath as she fell to both knees, Kyrie wondered what would happen now. Well, it wasn't something she could fight, since just a moment's contact had sent her into this... debilitating fit. Instead, she focused on one thing she knew how to fight- the burning sensation in her palm. She pressed it to her chest and bit back a tiny gasp. Gosh, that hurt!
"What was that," she said, but it was barely loud enough to be heard by anything but the cement pavers inches from her face.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 6:31 pm
Resisting a childish "Aha! Gotcha!" moment, Sera kneeled in front of the girl and placed her left hand over her head. People were staring and whispering, but it wasn't going to get awkward until she started chanting. In Sera's experience, the only thing that would make this girl so repulsed by the holy symbols tattooed on her arm was possession. And Sera knew how to fix that.
She held her holy necklace up in sight, right in the girl's face, and began: "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." It was the incantation on her arm, which roughly translated to We exorcise you, every impure spirit, every satanic power, every incursion of the infernal adversary, every legion, every congregation and diabolical sect. She would have preferred some holy water and a binding circle around the girl, but, well, can't have everything. She watched carefully as she chanted, fully expecting Kyrie to go full Exorcist on her, and waited before continuing. Exorcisms could be long and annoying, and needed to make sure the girl wouldn't flip out and attack her.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 6:41 pm
A hand on her head: danger and pain, distracting and burning again. Every alarm Kyrie had was shrieking that over and over, that she had to get away, but she stayed on her knees and wondered (a tad bit morbidly) if an exorcism would cure what ailed her. Break the connection she was beginning to suspect she had, make her soul her own again? Would it make everything better? She almost looked forward to it, but then a soft, more sensible Kyrie said, But Lord Seere protected you. Closing her eyes, she clenched her hands, burns already receding in the weird, quick healing she'd always enjoyed but now it was almost instant.
The chanting began and she acquired a new set of wounds when she clamped her teeth down on her own wrist to keep from screaming. Don't make a scene, the more thoughtful Kyrie seemed to say. Just hold still. This won't break anything; wait until she stops. Kyrie waited, but it seemed to go on for forever. Sera stopped, and she heaved labored breaths, and the other Kyrie said: Scream.
So she did, a silver river of a scream, loud and pure and clear.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 7:06 pm
And in a blink of an eye he was there a faint touch of hellfire surrounded him on his entrance. He had felt Kyrie's distress when she first touched the woman's hand but had suspected it was much like when she attempted to step on church grounds. However an attempted exorcism was much more unique a feeling; whoever it was likely didn't realize that it wasn't going to work...or at least probably wouldn't. Even if the chance of success had been nil Seere was inclined to take a look at who the intruder might be, so he had simply gone to his Angel.
His sudden appearance to most would be explained away even with the touch of fire, he had come up from the side or always been there they would tell themselves - but somewhere within they would know the truth and it would leave them feeling ill at ease. Reaching out he grabbed the woman with her hand on Kyrie's head the tattoos burning at his hand but the demon prince held tight pulling her away. Leaning in close his eyes blackened as he watched Sera, the burning against his palm adding venom to his tone, "Don't touch my things."
He then simply drops his grip on her arm, glancing down he reaches for Kyrie ignoring the bystanders that dared to stay and gape. Resting his hands on her shoulders he sent some of his own strength to the girl. If Sera had any gift of sight she'd notice a dark shadow slide from Seere's hands to Kyrie.
"Now ladies, I'm not sure what the trouble is...but perhaps we should go somewhere else to discuss it," his voice was calm and decidedly pleasant his dark gaze fixed on Sera as he speaks.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 7:27 pm
Well, Kyrie seemed to be taking it well, until Sera finished the last word. Then she started to scream. s**t, Sera thought with a scowl. People were starting to yell at her, asking for a doctor, and she got a good round of “What the hell are you doing?!”. “Back off!” She snarled, wishing she had her gun in her hand as backup. But, waving a weapon around brought police, and you don’t wave guns at them. Bad things happened, then. Like bullet holes in the body, and Sera really wanted to avoid that. “I’m helping her.” No need to say she was possessed. The only thing worse than a screaming girl in public was a screaming girl facing a psychotic woman who thinks she’s exorcising her. Even if it’s the truth, she thought huffily.
“Ergo,” she continued, turning her attention back to Kyrie, “draco maledicte et omnis legio, diabolica adjuramus te...” She couldn’t finish the rest as a blast of heat overwhelmed her and an unnaturally strong hand pulled her away from Kyrie. She just managed to stifle an undignified yelp as the...the demon yanked her back. She stared at the thing in mute horror, her holy necklace and tattoos burning and stinging all up her arm. She doubted she’d be a straight shot even if she did have her gun. This was a demon, a true demon, in the flesh! (Did they have flesh? Or was it just an illusion? Would a bullet even phase him?)
Fight or flight. Most people use the term loosely, not truly understanding. They say people go into fight or flight when their adrenaline is spiked. Not really true. This was fight or flight, in the barest, rawest form. Should she go for her gun, her cross? Well, the demon held her arm and didn’t seem to bother him too much. Should she run, or would the thing chase her? Well, that didn’t seem likely. He seemed very calm, despite his flashy appearance and roughly handling. And...what did he mean, “my things”? The questions went through her head so fast her head spun.
He was doing...something to her. She saw, or thought she saw, a shadow pass between them. She’d never seen anything like it. She bit back the rest of the exorcism, as tempted as she was to try it on a “flesh-and-blood” demon. “She burned when she shook my hand. I thought she was possessed. It was a normal reaction, I thought I was helping.” Her voice was dark, hateful, and the words themselves were curt and icy. Demon repartee wasn’t on her to do list. Another incantation popped in her head, not an exorcism, but a repellant. Three slow, careful steps back, and...“Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei!” (Go away, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of humanity's salvation. Be humble under the Powerful Hand of God!) No matter how curious she was about the gem, already forgotten in her jacket pocket, she didn’t deal with demons. Ever.
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 7:46 pm
Forget the nausea from the church, that was just a gentle breeze. The burning of her hand was a barely noticeable headache. This, this was pain, real pain. Kyrie's burned hand pressed against the teethmarks in her opposite wrist; people were shouting. Seraphina was snarling, saying that they should go, and she truly did want them to because the pain was so humiliating. She thought she was crying, but she couldn't have been because she hadn't needed to breathe yet; her scream just went on and on and on, an ear-splitting high note as tense as the muscles in her body. It felt like Sera was trying to rip the soul from her body, and she might as well have been.
Her scream stopped as soon as it had begun. Kyrie had thought the heat of the flames from Seere's arrival was nothing more than another wave of pain, but the words vanished and the pain faded. Consumed in shudders and the aftermath of pain, she didn't notice the declaration- his things, she would have asked, his things? Surely she was only one thing! It felt like she'd been running for hours, like something she could barely remember. She chased the memory for a moment, then, having lost it, touched her fingers gingerly to her forehead. Honestly she expected to find a smooth burn instead of her bangs, but... she found her bangs, and above her head, fabric.
Well that was odd. She looked up, slowly, and found Lord Seere; after a moment, she felt as if there'd never been a Sera and she clambered to her feet. "Thank you," she said, for once unashamed for saying it, "milord."
As she stood there, it occurred to her that she felt wonderful. Not just wonderful... perfect. Like getting a full night's sleep and then some, or drinking too much coffee before school, or eating half an ice-cream cake by yourself, which she had only done once and never again because she'd gotten pretty sick.
Kyrie hiccuped and turned her attention to Sera. The words she was speaking were vaguely familiar but it sounded like they were so slow! Was this what Lord Seere felt like all the time? She couldn't imagine it. Not calm, wise Lord Seere. She felt like bouncing off a wall; it was all she could do to keep in place. But Satana was a familiar word, one that she had heard often in church, and so she bared her teeth- almost savage, but her face was always so kind that it looked a little less fierce than she might have. "Don't you dare," she snapped.
All right, that one might be a little frightening, until she tipped back, caught herself, and giggled. She'd completely forgotten about the gem from the woman, barely able to maintain focus. Too much power, it seemed, and she'd spend the day giggling and snarling at nothing.
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