[spoiler]<o1 Night on the town>
Rhett Rodion gave no fucks. Honestly, she had no fucks to give.
Not once did she give any thought to others when it came to how her life was run, despite a very wholesome upbringing during her mortal years. It wasn’t as though the Brujah didn’t care for others, but more that she allowed herself leeway when it came to them affecting her day to day activities. No one in this city, or any other, ruled Rhett; regardless their title or position within Camarillian society. Not even Lance Jackson had that power and he was as close to a father as the kindred female had had in almost 200 years. Lance knew how to stay out of the way and make his presence scarce when need be, so whatever qualms her maker had in terms of her behaviors were muted. That’s why the two got along so well. He stood for rules and morals within the clan, and she acted as a swift and precise hand of justice for those rare times when someone within the court needed a good verbal lashing.
It was even in Rhett’s power to discipline the Prince, but there had never been any need for such a venture. At least not yet.
Tonight Rhett had taken time from her busy schedule to do the usual wine and dine with a few local Vampires and despite her rough around the edges demeanor, she had made a good hostess. They ate and laughed and eventually separated to continue forth with other business, which gave Rhett quality alone time; just the famed Brujah harpy and her trusty bat which currently lay across the bench seat of her pick up. Not really one to follow the times, she had driven the same torn up Ford for a decade and had intended to continue doing so until the damn thing burst into flames – though preferably not with her inside. Cruising along the well lit main streets, green hues danced over the various pedestrians to either side in close examination, as if attempting to capture every pulse presented in great detail.
It wasn’t unlike the court figure head to drive around searching out new kindred, and on a few occasions, she had been lucky enough to catch a few that slipped through the cracks. It was after all obligatory that newly arrived kindred present themselves in court, and it was preferred they call ahead and inform the current Harpy of their intent; not that everyone bothered to do so. As if acting on whatever impulse usually drove the woman, she found herself coming to a short stop at the light, to which she leaned back in her seat. The roads weren’t overly crowded this late and most people still out were patrons of the casinos, but something about the quiet of the particular evening gave Rhett the chills. Tongue poking at her canines, the woman slowly turned with traffic onto the next street and came to another slowed glide from point a to point b.
It was then the blond noticed something strange. It wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary, but enough to cause Rhett to park in the middle of the street, blocking incoming traffic for a moment. Horns blared and drivers called out for her to move, which eventually brought her back to her senses, but not before catching the strange collection of cats. Several felines sat on their back haunches with glowing amber eyes watchful of the pedestrians while others paced along in between the alley and the road. Swallowing at the dozens of creatures taken to the shadows, Rhett let it go and drove off from the scene towards the parking ramp in muted worry. Even as she settled in and exited her truck, the skin on her arms prickled to attention; like she had struck a bad omen somewhere in her travels.
It had been years since she had firmly believed a superstitious thought that popped into her head, but mortal habits die hard. Rhett was old enough to remember small things like throwing salt over your shoulder and avoiding cracks when walking on pavement – though she had been a child for some of it, and felt excused from ridicule. Now though, a rush of buried emotions unearthed in full effect, giving Rhett a feeling of dread to carry in place of her usual stoic resolve. “But they were just cats.” She reminded herself as the automated door jerked open, one of her hands fluttering above her ample cleavage as though attempting to cool her down. “Nothing strange about strays.” But the more the Brujah thought about it, the less she liked the weird gathering of animals.
Idly lingering in the corridor before entering the elevator, Rhett checked her phone; mostly out of habit than anything else. A name blared across the screen as a missed call, one she often ignored, but now felt obligated to investigate. Upon pressing the button to take her to the lobby, she managed to connect with Lance Jackson, her sire and missed call. Neither said a thing at first, just familiar white noise exited the receiver, until Rhett managed a small greeting. “You called?” A laugh barked back at the woman, crackling through the ear piece like splinters. Wincing, the woman continued in hopes of keeping Lance’s attention – which often was lost on the television. Even with the obvious sports highlights in the background, Rhett fought hard to control the conversation taking place, if only to comfort her conscience. “I saw something weird a few minutes ago. Like really weird.”
“Darlin’, I could tell ya all about weird. Like murders goin’ on and Sabbat sightings. Weird shit.”
“Mine isn’t so weird I guess.” Rhett admitted softly as the elevator came to a stop and reopened to expose the lobby and lingering hotel patrons, their conversations distant and somewhat ignored. “I just saw a group of cats hanging out in the alley by my hotel. I mean a lot of them, just chilling in plain sight.” Repeating the details made the worry she had felt prior seem unnecessary, but Lance grumbled into the receiver in response. Sensing how bothered her maker came off with such noises, Rhett continued, “So what do you make of that? I mean, just a coincidence, right?” Rhett lingered in the main hall for a few seconds in wait before her steps lead her towards the front desk to wait in the current line.
“No, that ain’t no coincidence. Bet it has to do with the new crazies in town.”
“Think they’ll show up for court?”
“Eh, maybe. Sometimes they do an’ sometimes ya gotta pull ‘em out of their hidey holes.” Lance didn’t sound happy when he said this, finishing with a sigh. “An’ sometimes they end up diggin’ their own graves. Just watch yer back, Rhett.”
“I’ll do my best.”[/spoiler]
Rhett Rodion gave no fucks. Honestly, she had no fucks to give.
Not once did she give any thought to others when it came to how her life was run, despite a very wholesome upbringing during her mortal years. It wasn’t as though the Brujah didn’t care for others, but more that she allowed herself leeway when it came to them affecting her day to day activities. No one in this city, or any other, ruled Rhett; regardless their title or position within Camarillian society. Not even Lance Jackson had that power and he was as close to a father as the kindred female had had in almost 200 years. Lance knew how to stay out of the way and make his presence scarce when need be, so whatever qualms her maker had in terms of her behaviors were muted. That’s why the two got along so well. He stood for rules and morals within the clan, and she acted as a swift and precise hand of justice for those rare times when someone within the court needed a good verbal lashing.
It was even in Rhett’s power to discipline the Prince, but there had never been any need for such a venture. At least not yet.
Tonight Rhett had taken time from her busy schedule to do the usual wine and dine with a few local Vampires and despite her rough around the edges demeanor, she had made a good hostess. They ate and laughed and eventually separated to continue forth with other business, which gave Rhett quality alone time; just the famed Brujah harpy and her trusty bat which currently lay across the bench seat of her pick up. Not really one to follow the times, she had driven the same torn up Ford for a decade and had intended to continue doing so until the damn thing burst into flames – though preferably not with her inside. Cruising along the well lit main streets, green hues danced over the various pedestrians to either side in close examination, as if attempting to capture every pulse presented in great detail.
It wasn’t unlike the court figure head to drive around searching out new kindred, and on a few occasions, she had been lucky enough to catch a few that slipped through the cracks. It was after all obligatory that newly arrived kindred present themselves in court, and it was preferred they call ahead and inform the current Harpy of their intent; not that everyone bothered to do so. As if acting on whatever impulse usually drove the woman, she found herself coming to a short stop at the light, to which she leaned back in her seat. The roads weren’t overly crowded this late and most people still out were patrons of the casinos, but something about the quiet of the particular evening gave Rhett the chills. Tongue poking at her canines, the woman slowly turned with traffic onto the next street and came to another slowed glide from point a to point b.
It was then the blond noticed something strange. It wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary, but enough to cause Rhett to park in the middle of the street, blocking incoming traffic for a moment. Horns blared and drivers called out for her to move, which eventually brought her back to her senses, but not before catching the strange collection of cats. Several felines sat on their back haunches with glowing amber eyes watchful of the pedestrians while others paced along in between the alley and the road. Swallowing at the dozens of creatures taken to the shadows, Rhett let it go and drove off from the scene towards the parking ramp in muted worry. Even as she settled in and exited her truck, the skin on her arms prickled to attention; like she had struck a bad omen somewhere in her travels.
It had been years since she had firmly believed a superstitious thought that popped into her head, but mortal habits die hard. Rhett was old enough to remember small things like throwing salt over your shoulder and avoiding cracks when walking on pavement – though she had been a child for some of it, and felt excused from ridicule. Now though, a rush of buried emotions unearthed in full effect, giving Rhett a feeling of dread to carry in place of her usual stoic resolve. “But they were just cats.” She reminded herself as the automated door jerked open, one of her hands fluttering above her ample cleavage as though attempting to cool her down. “Nothing strange about strays.” But the more the Brujah thought about it, the less she liked the weird gathering of animals.
Idly lingering in the corridor before entering the elevator, Rhett checked her phone; mostly out of habit than anything else. A name blared across the screen as a missed call, one she often ignored, but now felt obligated to investigate. Upon pressing the button to take her to the lobby, she managed to connect with Lance Jackson, her sire and missed call. Neither said a thing at first, just familiar white noise exited the receiver, until Rhett managed a small greeting. “You called?” A laugh barked back at the woman, crackling through the ear piece like splinters. Wincing, the woman continued in hopes of keeping Lance’s attention – which often was lost on the television. Even with the obvious sports highlights in the background, Rhett fought hard to control the conversation taking place, if only to comfort her conscience. “I saw something weird a few minutes ago. Like really weird.”
“Darlin’, I could tell ya all about weird. Like murders goin’ on and Sabbat sightings. Weird shit.”
“Mine isn’t so weird I guess.” Rhett admitted softly as the elevator came to a stop and reopened to expose the lobby and lingering hotel patrons, their conversations distant and somewhat ignored. “I just saw a group of cats hanging out in the alley by my hotel. I mean a lot of them, just chilling in plain sight.” Repeating the details made the worry she had felt prior seem unnecessary, but Lance grumbled into the receiver in response. Sensing how bothered her maker came off with such noises, Rhett continued, “So what do you make of that? I mean, just a coincidence, right?” Rhett lingered in the main hall for a few seconds in wait before her steps lead her towards the front desk to wait in the current line.
“No, that ain’t no coincidence. Bet it has to do with the new crazies in town.”
“Think they’ll show up for court?”
“Eh, maybe. Sometimes they do an’ sometimes ya gotta pull ‘em out of their hidey holes.” Lance didn’t sound happy when he said this, finishing with a sigh. “An’ sometimes they end up diggin’ their own graves. Just watch yer back, Rhett.”
“I’ll do my best.”[/spoiler]
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.