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Reaching the Knight Inn, Niteshade was in a fog of pain and tiredness. The pressure was immense in his head right now, like a migraine on steroids. Bringing out a smile for Maddie to try and calm her down, he gets off the bike and says, "I'll get us a room. I'm not sure whether you want to call that number tonight or in the morning, but I'm gonna take a few hours rest before we head off. I don't think we should stay longer than the afternoon, if that Ishmael was telling the truth then our powers should increase by then from the destruction of our journals and it might be easier for him to track us. Be back with a room in a jiffie.."

Winking as he headed to the office, he thought he would fit the part. The events of the evening had worn on him so that he probably looked like a person who'd lost most of his savings and was on his final stash with one last good time. Coming up to the desk, he rang the bell and a middle aged gentleman came out. He gave Niteshade the once over and asked how he could help.

"Well seems lady luck hasn't been the best and I need a room for the night. How much are they?", Niteshade asked in response.

"$60 per night, and I got only a couple rooms left," was the response, before the guy looked outside and noticed Maddie by her bike and just gave Niteshade a questioning look.

"Well lady luck hasn't been completely bad to me... atleast I'll have a good final night, eh?" He smiled a little and fished out $75 in fives and tens from his own money and sat it down saying, "The name will be Mr. and Mrs. Smith, okay?"

Taking the money and snickering, he marked it down and handed a key to room 1010 saying, "Check out time is 11AM unless you want to find another nights rent. Sleep well MR Smith..."

Grinning back he says as he's heading back out, "Thanks Mister."

Getting back to the bike he holds the key up to Maddie and says, "We have a lovely estate suite in room 1010, and I don't think we'll have to worry about any intrusions till 11AM by the staff atleast."

Hmmm.... or something... okay, my powers are gathering. I love the elements!
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'Damn... not gonna see the way outta the dress' a part of Niteshade sighed internally. Sitting on the bed, he felt like total crap. Besides everything else going on his sinuses where acting up and he was really dry right now. Keeping his composure so Maddie didn't see how bad he really felt, he offered the following, "Well you could always tell a hidden seam and means to take it off in case you want to wear it again to stun the males into ogling disorientation we might encounter."

He continued, "A neck rub would be wonderful", as would other things as they relieved stress quite well but it wasn't the time besides the fact his body might not be in condition to respond that way anyway.

After Maddie went into the bathroom and he heard the water running, he went and got some tissues and blew some of the blood out of his nose. Sitting back on the bed he decided to take a small rest till she got out. Meanwhile back at the barrels the journals where mostly destroyed now and the power they had trapped away and held was released. Slowly the power was returning to these two storytellers for good or ill. As he lay there he kind of dozed off hearing the water pounding down in the other room... and he dreamt of dark ominous clouds and thunderstorms. The clouds seemed to have a life of their own and lightning played across the sky and to the ground with great frequency. As he watched the lightning struck right infront of him blinding him temporarily and the wind wiped into him and he thought he heard a voice in it saying, "we await your call..."

Suddenly he was awake and Maddie was coming out of the bathroom., and when he sat up his hand had a static discharge to the table shocking him just a bit.

Sapphira turned the TV off and sat back, emptied pop can in her hand. Where was it that she had met this British guy? She bit her lip and chewed on a chip, nibbling at the edges. The memory of when she met him eluded her, but his name popped out immediately. Ishmael. The doof who tried to pretty much capture her. She smiled slightly. She had left him sitting on top a short post with a pack of hungry stray dogs nipping at his heels.

She stood and threw the can into the recycling bin next to the fridge. As she looked to her right, she saw a pair of eyes watching her from outside the window. She frowned. The idiot had managed to follow her. Sapphira made a show of turning on the security system and then closed the blinds, giving him a subtle smile and a glance from the corner of her eye. One tap on the glass would be enough to set the silent arlarm, but when it was shattered, sirens would go off, scaring him away. She flipped off the lights and retreated upstairs, muttering as she climbed the staircase.

"Ishmael sees that the alarm is turned on, and doesn't even try to enter through the windows, nor the doors." She would be safe, for now, but she had never taken so many precautions in her life. Something had her spooked about this man, the way he persisted to follow her.

Sapphirianna~ Let me know if Ishmael is creepy enough for you. twisted I also added a little something to your powers. If you don't like the idea, let me know and I'll change it.
Uke~ Hope I got this right. I left it pretty open ended for backstory.

Everyone~ Sorry it's so long. I had a lot of ground to cover, since Ishmael is pretty much the universal villain. Please at least skim this so we can keep this delightfully diabolical element in our plot.
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Ishmael was frustrated. The man he worked for had given him quite the earful for loosing the two most powerful storytellers to come along in several centuries. The fact that their power hadn't even fully developed yet was no consolation for the fact that they'd quickly been able to story-tell their way out of his carefully planned meeting. He had tried to be nice and sincere and amiable, but those two had known somehow, despite his best efforts, that he didn't have their best interests anywhere near his heart.

After Madalyn and Nigel had escaped him on that wretched bike of hers, he'd tried to track them using the oldest simplest methods, such as listening for his name. Names were among the most powerful of words, and if one listened just right, one could hear their name spoken, no matter the barriers or distance between the lips doing the speaking and the ear doing the hearing. But no one seemed to mention it. Then he tried searching for their power, those journals of theirs should have been shouting their location, but by the time he caught up to them, the books were already burning and the power they had once held was long gone.

Fortunately, he managed to catch a whiff of the direction they were heading. Unfortunately, they were going to Las Vegas. That was probably the worst luck so far. Vegas was full of tiny story tellers, people who never amassed much power, and then wasted it cheering horses or dogs or begging for the right cards. No, they weren't any interest to him or the one he worked for. But their constant muttering made it difficult to track the REAL prizes, especially when those prizes were being unduly quiet.

He didn't bother following Madalyn and Nigel down highway 15. Instead, he made a few calls on his way to the nearest airport, and commissioned a small privet jet to take him to Las Vegas. If he could only get a hold of Madalyn and Nigel, the expense would be well worth it.

As expected, as soon as he landed in Vegas, his senses were clouded with chants of “come on” and “big money.” It irritated him that these people, no matter how marginally talented, would waste their words on competing against one another for games where no one really won anyway. Even if someone managed to swing the odds in their favor, any winnings would be thrown right back into the pot in the never-ending-quest for the next big win. Ishmael curled his lip in disgust as he got into a limo and told the driver to cruise up and down all the major streets.

If the couple was looking for a quick escape, cold, hard, untraceable cash would be the best way. They didn't understand yet how much power certain things took, that the more variables they had to bridge with their words the more energy it took to change the story, but they weren't totally stupid. On top of that, they'd probably be trying to stay under the Casino's radar as well. Ishmael had worked with a few casino owners who had employed story-telling services, all be it completely oblivious to what his storytellers actually did, for important gamboling weekends. If they wanted to avoid him completely, it would take them weeks to scrape together enough money to disappear effectively. So they'd probably go for something with big dividends while not being as conspicuous as say a large slot-machine payout.

Ishmael let his senses extend, waiting for the rippling echoes of power. After only a few hours, he was rewarded with the tremors he was looking for coming from the famous Venetian Casino and Hotel. The driver quickly maneuvered through the perpetually congested strip traffic to the front door of the casino and Ishmael jumped out before the limo had even come to a complete stop. His eyes were constantly scanning for the people in question. He wasn't sure how he'd apprehend them yet, anything direct would undoubtedly scare them off, but he'd be damned if he lost them again.

There was power clinging closely to one man at the roulette table, but Ishmael couldn't see Madalyn or Nigel anywhere. They must have left a decoy for him. He cursed as he ran outside again. This time he caught sight of them, Nigel's trench coat and Madalyn's red hair glinting in the Vegas lights. And there was another woman near them. A black haired, blue eyed vixen who was thrumming with storytelling power. Unlike the two he was trying to catch, she was already at her peak of power, but she would still be an excellent addition to his small army of storytellers. She had an air of subtlety that matched his own in a most...attractive manor.

He was distracted for a moment, watching the blue-eyed woman dart down the street and between buildings. A peal of thunder and a small shriek from a child brought him to his senses and when he looked back, Madalyn and Nigel were gone. Worse luck, a violent storm was brewing. The weather forecast hadn't said anything about any storm, but this had the stink of a storyteller in it. When hale started to pelt his side of the street, Ishmael was certain this weather had been aimed for him.

How was it that these two managed to stay one step ahead of him? They were supposed to be untrained anomalies. If one had changed the weather patterns, it should be out of control, not targeting him like a satellite guided missile system. Frustrated, Ishmael returned to his limo.

Curious, he could still feel that blue-eyed apparition's power, off and on, pulsing through the city like a regular heartbeat. Perhaps she was not a storyteller, but one of the rare harpers, her power bound in rhythm and cadence. He instructed his driver and they followed the pulses. Parking half a block away, he spied their final destination, a fancifully painted blue house. It matched those eyes of hers.

Ishmael got out of the limo and strolled down the street. No sooner did he glance through the windows than the blinds snapped closed and the alarm blinked on. He felt another, stronger pulse of power, insisting he not even try to enter the house. He tested her story-telling-boundaries and found them fairly strong. Since he didn't feel like going through the chimney, he decided to pursue other quarry.

Still, with one glance over his shoulder, he couldn't help using a little of his stored up power to tell a story of his own. “Mysterious blue-eyed vixen,” he called her, because that was the closest thing to a name he had for her, “You will be mine, one way or another, you will be mine.” He hated being so open-ended, but at least it would mark her for future encounters. Later, when he wasn't so preoccupied, he would make a special trip back to Vegas for her. He smiled at the thought.

Back at the limo, he instructed the driver to go to the airport. It would be best, he decided, to be ready to fly to wherever Nigel and Madalyn were traveling next, maybe intercept them at the same time. The limo slowed as he neared the hotel closest to the airport. He saw a shabby child running along the sidewalk. No sooner did he get close then he felt more ripples of power. These were fragmented, jagged, as if the wielder had suffered some great trauma. Regardless, they were still effective. The child looked straight through the limo windows, stumbled and fell. His bag opened and something furry escaped.

The words “you will not touch me” surged through the car and Ishmael's hands jerked away, physically repulsed by the edgy power unleashed by that frantic sentence.

He ordered his driver to continue beyond the Knights Inn. With that kind of absolute told, with that kind of power behind it, there was no way he was getting near the child for a while. How had such a talent not appeared on his radar before this moment? He didn't know, and he didn't care. Vegas was crawling with storytellers tonight, Ishmael thought.

The thought of a flowing, seamless silk dress was exciting. Maddie had never had any clothing like that.

As Niteshade showered, Maddie let the events of the day run through her mind. She was currently sharing a hotel room with a man she barely knew, and yet somehow it seemed as if she'd always known him. She also had more money in her proverbial pocket than she'd ever had in her entire life. And she was about to fly off to the Emerald Isle, a place she hadn't visited in 10 years. This would be romantically exciting if it wasn't for the threatening edge of doom that loomed over them.

To help pass the time and sooth her nerves, Maddie started to hum her grandmother's lullaby. Her thoughts went back to the cottage where she'd spent the most wonderful summers of her childhood. Just a short walk east to the ocean with miles and miles of sandy white beaches that would put any tropical resort to shame, and miles and miles of farmland to the west. And it would be green. She missed the green the most; Los Angeles, and even more in Las Vegas, could only boast a drab olive.

Then Niteshade emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair, and startled Maddie out of her daydream. She smiled when he said he was ready for the neck rub. She knee-walked to the middle of the bed and patted the spot on the comforter right in front of her. Niteshade sat and Maddie trailed her fingers over his neck and shoulders. Then she started massaging in light circular motions from the base of his skull, down his neck, to the top of his shoulders. She repeated the motions from top to bottom, gradually increasing pressure. She focused on the two lines of fibrous nerves on either side of his vertebra. Her dexterous fingers slowly established the flow of energy through his neck. He started to sag, and Maddie was half afraid he would drift to sleep and fall onto the floor.

“How's that?” she asked softly near his ear. “Do you want me to do your shoulders too?”

Niteshade saw Maddie on the bed and he movements to the center. He made sure to get a good look at her, as no matter what happened in the couple days he would atleast have the memory of the few moments like this. He felt tension draining from his neck at Maddie's methodical massaging movements. He actually began drifting off again with the waves of pressure turning into waves of the earth beneath his feet rolling along. Catching his balance in this dream world, he could see a smoking mountain in the distance with lava running down the sides... a volcano. A wash of heat swept over him, preceding a cloud of burning ash moving towards him. He came back just before he was incinerated to have Maddie's breath rolled across his ear and neck. Shivers went down his spine and his body temperature rose a few degrees.

Taking a breath to calming his quickly beating heart he turns his head to look into her enchanting eyes and replies, “I don’t think that would be the best right now.” His own eyes tell his side of the story… passion, fire and intensity were burning inside. He always had one underpinning desire, and that was to belong. He didn’t want to jeopardize any possible goal of that with Maddie, so he couldn’t let himself get lost in the more carnal-side unless she was the one who wanted to and initiated things.

Turning his head back forward, he leans back a little so he is slightly leaning against her with his head on her shoulder. Niteshade was not feeling himself lately and something was going on. He needed to talk about it, and Maddie was who he wanted to confide in most. She had walked up and just stepped through the walls he usually had around himself as if she was an incorporeal spirit. He decides to just speak his mind and see what happens…

“I’m scared Maddie. With everything going on, and this power we’ve started developing, and especially the visions I’ve been having… I wonder if I’m getting lost. Is this power taking root and then using me instead of me using it? With it one could do almost anything they wanted… and I’m reminded of the One Ring from the Lord of the Rings. Is this power corrupting and will make you into a sort of Gollum over time? I don’t want to be like that… I want to be stopped if I start down that path. As the great Stan Lee wrote ‘With great power, comes great responsibility’… but I don’t know if I can handle it.” He sat and closed his eyes and awaited her response.

Sitting up in bed, Sapphirianna clutched the book tighter and leaned back. She swallowed hard, still terrified and confused. Why did she suddenly feel so frightened? Her natural calm coolness had disapated, leaving behind raw terror.

"Oh, Dad, what am I to do now? Wait for those storytellers to call?" She flipped through the pages of her father's book and gazed at the pictures, skillfully drawn in pen, donning the thin pages. She flipped through them and scanned the many poems and songs and brave looking characters, each striking a heroic pose. She stopped dead. She flipped back a page and gasped. Instead of the heroines and warriors that she had seen so far, she saw something that sent a chill racing down her spine.

Shrouded in darkness was a shady man. It looked exactly like the Bitish man, Ishmael. She flipped back another page and found it blank on the other side. Ripping it out of the book, she stared at it. How could have her father known about him, enough to draw an accurate picture of his face? She walked across the hall the the office/studio. Flipping the on switch of the paper shredder, she fed the page to it and watched it hungrily devour the drawing, tearing it to thin slips of unlegible confetti. She shut the door to the studio and went back to the book. Running her fingers over the jagged edge of what was left of the page, she sighed.

((GtG))

Congratulations Sapph! Glad to hear it's going so well for you.

Now let's see if we can start bringing us all closer together to interact better... my kitty!
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Niteshade just kept his eyes closed and enjoyed the closeness and touch from Maddie as she listened to him. As she gave her response, he gained some resolve from her own and felt better. Things wouldn't get too bad as long as they supported one another. So she was hearing voices and he was having elemental visions... how much weirder would it get? He was glad she confided in him, as it meant that she had some of the same feelings for him that he did for her. If nothing else then they had reached out and found a bond of friendship, after all you just didn't tell such things to anybody... only people who you had a connection with. The simply casual kiss left a warm spot on his skin, and tingling tendrils of pleasure spread outward.

When she said goodnight and rolled over, he sat for a moment absorbing it all and then smiled. He simply said, "thank you Maddie, sleep well" then moved to his own bed. Closing his eyes it seemed like he didn't even get a chance to get to sleep before he was caught in another vision. He was in the middle of a dense forest, the trees were hundreds of feet tall. Only a little sunlight filtered down in spots to the ground where he stood. Even in the darkness though he could still see by some means he didn't quite understand. The ground was covered in leaves, fallen and rotting branches, and some hardy weeds. Even in these conditions it seemed some weeds still thrived. He felt the power flowing through this place, it was an old world forest that was thousands and thousands of years old. You could smell it in the air, the slight scent of decay and death but at the same time life and rebirth. It had a presence all its own that was unique to its area, and Niteshade didn't want to raise the ire of such a thing. He walked forward till he found a glade, and stepped out of the trees that ringed it. Across the way it looked as if a people was laying down against a tree, so he shouted "Excuse me, can I get some help?"

The person didn't respond or even move, so Niteshade walked towards them. When he was about 500 feet away, at about at the center of the glade, he could finally see the figure in detail... it was the roots of the tree twisted and bent that merely appeared similar in shape to a human figure. It was then that he felt it. It was a sort of very deep bass sound reverberating through the ground. Putting his ear to the ground and concentrating he could make out the sound as a voice. You had to listen as the sounds were drawn out into long stretches, but still recognizable and it said, "fulfill your destiny!". Then there was a loud snap, and Niteshade jumped up to see a tree falling right at him... he awoke just before it would have smashed him to goo. He was sweating badly and his heart was pounding quickly in his chest. He nearly screamed when he awoke, but by some miracle didn't. Maddie was still laying there with he back to him, so he assumed she was asleep. Going into the bath room and ran some cold water in the sink and splashed a little on his face. Wiping it off he got a drink of the water, then went back into the room to find the clock. It was 5am and he had atleast got a little sleep.

Outside Uke threw out his power at Ishmael and it was such an intense wave of raw power, that Niteshade felt it from inside the room. The surprise of it made he stumble, and when he got up he just muttered, "What the hell?!" Turning to Maddie he seen she was awake as well and looking towards the door. Someone was out there and had just used some powerful energy into a story of some kind. Was this Ishmael's power? Or the mysterious captain? He threw on his leather jacket quickly as he went to the window to try and sneak a peek at the outside. He could see a small figure outside by the corner of the hotel property and nothing else. "There's just someone young or real small outside Maddie", he said over his shoulder. Going to the door he continued, "I'm gonna take a closer look, back me up if you see anything suspicious."

Opening the door he nearly tripped over a cat that had decided to camp there for some reason. Picking it up carefully, as he didn't want to have an allergy attack, Niteshade looked up to see the figure coming this way.