No Alcohol, No Guns, No Knives, No Drugs Are Permitted Inside!!
Security Will ~Frisk You~ At The Door!!
My Story Is...
~BIRTHPLACE~
"ARISTOCATTURNED FERAL" Before there was Catwoman there was Selina Kyle, Born on a ElseWorld planet Gemiriar. It was ruled under a Dictatorship Government that her parents were respected council members of. Gemiriar was a world that had a reflected a Majestic Steampunk affluence. It had Animal Souls that walked side by side by the Human counterparts as a separate entity. These Animal Souls go by various names. The most common Familars and Daemons. The older termonolgy is called Phouka.
When Selina was 5 years old a Fallen Angel that was a Seraphim came to Gemiriar. Her name was Ska Skinwalker. She was following the directions of Lucifer to kill everyone by taking their animal souls. She would then bring these Animal Souls or Otherwise known as Familiars or Daemons to Lucifer, once they were separated from there human counterpart. There was much chaos on Gemiriar. The people didn't know to how fight or protect themselves from this Fallen Angel named Ska Skinwalker.
At first Ska targeted the adults and their Familiars. But then a bargain was made to extend the adults livelihood. The Gemiriar people were mainly a rich society of materialistic aristocrats. They didn't have much need of a military system and only a few sections were poor. The children's familiars on Gemiriar were taken one by one and killed during a Massive Green Storm that swept the planet in a maddess with the exception of Selina Kyle. The Green Storm was a energy of the Unstable Emotions from the people with the toxic combination of Powers coming off from Ska Skinwalker that clashed and ultimately led to the Severed Connections of Dark Matter. Dark Matter is an element that combined Humans and their Animal Souls or also called Familairs or Daemons together. But Selina Kyle had escaped that horrific nightmare somehow. She was smuggled off the planet to safety. But not without having some changes that affected her. Her Animal Soul/Familiar/Daemon became trapped inside her body but in feline form. Selina Kyle was then brought to Earth. More Specifically right in Gotham N.J. Right before her 6TH Birthday. Later on in her Adulthood she would meet Michael, another Angel, he would teach her how to bring her Daemon in or out at will. But by this time Selina's name had changed to Kougar or otherwise known as the infamous Catwoman. Where she learned it could change to any feline form.
~CHILDHOOD IN GOTHAM CITY~
"CAN'T BE TAMED" Selina was placed in a Orphanage that was Corrupted and eventually was adopted by a Man named Rex Calabrese. Rex used to be Known as the Great Underground Cat Burgular working for the Mafia in his Hay Day Prior to adopting Selina. But the Mafia family changed leadership hands and Falcone had since taken control over Gotham City since and no longer wanted Rex's help. Rex then decided to adopt and use Selina to Build a new respected name or brand for himself once again. He conditioned Selina in the Ways of Thievery to Help him get back to being the King of the Cat Burgulars for the Mafias Eyes Once Again.
Rex saw Special Abilities in Selina, and made sure that she was Only to use certain aspects of what he saw in her. There under his Control and Direction, he Trained Her To Become A Professional Thief. Home Schooled in the Seven Bells Of Pick Pocketing. She was Secluded from Normal Society. She Learned the Arts of Stealing!! And The Ability To Do So! Gymnastics, Parkour, and Street Fighting were some of curricular activities. Along with the Education of Valuable - Fine Art, Money, Precious Gems. How to know the difference between something that is fake or authentic. She also learned about Computer Hacking, Classified Document Forgeries, along with Small Electronic Devices! She Became Extremely Talented at this Craft and Enjoyed The High From Stealing! It was as if she was Born To Steal!
But even though she was Child Laborer/Thief for Him, she defied Rex on many occasions which led to many physical and mental scars, as never being allowed to keep anything that she stole for Rex. Two of which Impacted her Greatly. One being an Underground Russian Roulette Game she Witnessed. And the other was when Rex had set her up to Fall in Falcone's hands around her 17th Birthday to teach her a Hard Lesson On Who Was The Better Father. Rex began to think this rebranding idea was more trouble than it was worth. He didn't really need Selina anymore because she was too much trouble always rebelling against him. So he dropped Selina Kyle into the lap of Carmine Falcone, where she then became forced to Work for him or Die for him. Rex thought she'd end up dead in a heartbeat, as he didn't have the heart to kill the child he raised and trained himself. Killing girls was never his strong suit. Beat them Yes, mentally and physically but Kill them, no.
~ADULTHOOD~
"CHASE ME" By Selina's 20th Birthday things changed again. A deal was made, between Falcone and Rex. And She was owned by Rex once more who for some reason wanted her back. But that deal was short lived. Selina took matters in her own hands when she had stumbled across a hitman named Chev Chelios. She paid Chev Chelios to Kill Rex. Selina Kyle then became Free of Any Man. She changed her name from Selina to Kougar, and took what she had Learned and Became the Famous Catwoman-Queen of Thieves In Gotham City Today. Never to be owned by Any Man!
She has Stolen Many Valuables throughout her life. She lives on the edge with an Adrenaline Rush from her Crimes running from the Law and Vigilantes! She is a Deadly Cat-Burglar, Feline Thief in the Night or "Night Huntress." But she does have a Heart! Some stolen items that have Helped to Provide Food, and Clothes to the Local Orphanges, and those in need! She will Help Any Stray Cat, and Take them in! She has set up cat shelters through out the city to protect any Felines. She also has seen a lot of Corruption with Drugs, Weapons, and Human Trafficking all over the United States and fights against it. So Be Warned. Don't let this Purple Feline Thief Cross your Mind or set Foot in your Heart..
~THE SUPERNATURAL UNDERGROUND~
"WE'RE NOT AFRAID OF THE DARK WE ARE ALIVE IN IT"
Catwoman really didn't experience much of the supernatural after being brought to Gotham by the work of the Fallen Angel named Ska Skinwalker. It wasn't until the time of her first boyfriend Ethan and his friends that her life went down a darker road. Since then she has met Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Demons, Mages and Others. But Demons and Werewolves she would prefer to avoid, as they tend to rub her fur the wrong way! She has had many Fights with them. They are always wreaking havoc in her life in one way or another!
~HERE & NOW~
"A WOMAN WHO KNOWS HER OWN MIND IS A POWERFUL FORCE"
Kougar Kyle has built a bigger name for herself, on top of being Queen of Thieves as Catwoman. She runs an entertainment club called Kitty Nights Burlesque under an alias name along with two partners by her side. Neo Felis a computer guru and security provisions and Jim Balent the Head Bouncer and the Advertising Artist for the Club. Who has secrets about himself. Between the three of them they have made an Empire that has Boosted Catwoman's Criminal Agenda through the secrets of dark men's mind that pollute and cloud the city through Sexual Flirty Entainment. What is good for the goose, is also good for the KITTY!
~DEITY OF THE PAST~
"SHE WHO SCRATCHES"
Lore Of Pakhet. Pakhet was a Feline Goddess during the Middle Kingdom Ages. Both of Earth and a Parellel World. She was similiar to Bastet and Sekhmet taking the form of a Caracal feline. She is the daughter of Maahes and Huntheth both Lion Gods. Maashes her Father was associated with war, protection, and weather. Huntheth her Mother was the Hours of Night. Pakhet attributes her war strength as more inner than outward as she was called "The Night Huntress" with a Sharp Eye and Pointed Claw. Pakhet also has duality roles. She was the Goddess of being an Astral Lone Traveler and venturing off between Worlds. She is the protector of motherhood and fights against venomous creatures. Pakhet's temple on Earth was an underground cavernous shrine near al Minya Egypt. Pakhet's crown has a Solar disk and her amulet is a lioness attacking its prey.She is the Great Grand Daughter To The Egyptian God Ra. But as to who who her Grandmother was, Bastet or Sekhmet is unknown.Pakhet lost her Goddess status of immortality when she was Tricked by a Snake God to become Human and live under reincarnation. Setting her to become more human in each life and forgetting a little more who she is after every death. Kougar knows something of her past being of something of importance with the feline race, but has not discovered yet who she really is. If she does't come to realize she is Pakhet in this life soon, she will never be able to return to her rightful place as the Immortal Cat Goddess Pakhet. And the Snake God will return to spawn his lesser children from her through force and then Kill her. Will Catwoman be able to remember soon who she is??? {Updated 2/1/23}
ISTP's are practical, resourceful, adaptable pragmatists, they possess an excellent capacity for understanding how anything works, displaying logical, detached analysis. They have incredible, powers of observation and a great talent for logical analysis. They love to explore and get their hands dirty {Such As Stealing} touching and examining the world around them with cool rationalism and spirited curiosity.
People with this personality type are moving from project to project, building the useful and the superfluous for the fun of it, and learning from their environment as they go. An ISTP decisions stem from a sense of practical realism, and at their heart is a strong sense of direct fairness,
a “do unto others” attitude.
This type of personality is self-sufficient and very independent, only really happy when undertaking some risky or interesting activity as they display coolness under pressure which helps get things fixed but which may not endear them to those around them.
"CATS COME WHEN THEY FEEL LIKE IT NOT WHEN THEY ARE TOLD"
Ultimately they want to be left alone to live their lives and do their jobs the way they see fit, rarely trying to control others and expecting others not to try to control them. But in a crisis, or when the situation needs in-depth understanding, they will thrive or at least until the crisis is over. They will be difficult to know as they will be quiet outsiders looking in until they are ready. Once they are clear on what needs to be done, they will be difficult to budge and will potentially move too quickly without thinking through all the implications.
However with growth of an Ambivert tendencies they can moderately be comfortable with groups and social interaction to a degree, but also still relish the time alone, away from a crowd. In simpler words, an ambivert is a person whose behaviour changes according to the situation they are in.
Strengths: Optimistic and Energetic | Creative and Practical | Spontaneous and Rational | Know How to Prioritize | Great in a Crisis | Relaxed
~DAEMONS/FAMILIARS/PHOUKA~ Kougar's Daemon Animal Soul is named KiTT. KiTT can move in and out of Kougar's body at her will. It can communicate with Kougar through telepathy. Also KiTT can Change to any type of Feline Big or Small, as well as giving her the use of its power when its inside her. Kougar can see through KiTT's Eyes, use its Claws, Have Heightened Hearing, and Smelling, and have the gift of Speed to be used for her Gain. But the Daemon soul or Familiar when outside of her body cannot go far from her. And she is no longer able to use the extra gifts Heightened Hearing, Smelling, Seeing or Speed with her Familiar separated from her body. And if Injured her familiar needs to be return back to her body in order to be Healed. If kept away to long while injured Both Her and Animal Soul will die. Also KiTT has no gender because it is just a soul.
~HER OTHER GIFT~ {updated 1/7/20} Astral Projecting is another gift she obtained from being a Goddess. Though she doesn't know how this and assumes other reasons. Astral projection can be done by Sleep or a Meditation state where Kougar can Travel anywhere by using the Daemon soul as a cord to her real body. The Spirit body can Travel to other places on Earth, but she cannot be seen by anyone, except those with supernatural abilities themselves. Vampires, Demons, Angels Etc. But to other realms she can be viewed. Also with Great Control of Low vibrations or Telekinesis. Kougar can move objects to some degree only when she puts all of concentrations into it. However this can only be done in an astral projection state.
~APPEARANCE~
"WE ALL WEAR MASKS"
Jet Black Long Hair {I'm Not Butch!} ★_╭∩╮(◣_◢)╭∩╮_★
Blue Gray Eyes Can Change Pupil Shape ★_(♦)_(♦)_★
Height 5'7 W/O Thigh High Boots ★__(♡_♡)__★
All the Right Curves In All the Right Places!!
When Catwoman-Purple Catsuit with Vinyl and Kevlar
At the Club-Naughty Corsets And Negligee
Everywhere else-Anything that looks Sexy!
~HUSH SECRETS~
Stealing, Emeralds, Canary Diamonds, Muscle Cars That PuuuRRR!
The Smell of Cigarette Smoke, Cologne and Alcohol Breath rolled into one.
Her Abilities of her Daemon soul and her gift of astral projection.
(Jim Balent-Weretiger-Ancestral lineage of Panthera Tigris from the Hyborian Age.)
~SECRETS FILED~
She's Owner Of Kitty Nights Burlesque.
Her Penthouse is on the Eastside of Gotham, but she has others.
And one Bunker. {Hidden in one of the tunnels}
Men with Power, she says she can't stand, but some Men with Power can be quite an addiction to her, as she Flirts with the Dark Side. Lex Luthor, and Thomas Wayne are the only two who have Manipulated and used Power over her. But Generally speaking she is the One Who likes to be in Control. In her past Rex Calabrese and Carmine Falcone had Power over her as a Child and Teenager. But she got her Revenge since on them.
She has a soft spot for children in the Gotham Orphanage. And has spent years bringing goods to them anonymously.
She has also done a lot to help the stray cats in Gotham and helps to protect the Big Wild Cats in Gotham's Sanctuary.
She also has two other house cats givien to her called, Obsidian and Violet
Catwoman's Net Worth $80. Million...
~Aliases She Goes By~
Irena Dubrovna or Miss LaPerm-At The Club,
Marguerite Tone, Madame Moderne,
Katarina Kyle,
K or Kat which is most often used.
~ SECRETS OF Hate~ Human Trafficking, Drugs, Guns, Children Used And Abused, Poachers, WereWolves.
Certain people of her past- C. Beritti, Anthony Malficini, Carmine Falcone, First BF, and a couple of Demons past and present.
Her Ride For Getting Around is Victory Hammer 8 Ball Motorcycle
And a 2023 Purple Dodge Charger SRT HellCat Redeye! 203MPH
Unless She is Stealing whatever Ride crosses her Path that she Fancies! Maybe Even YOURS!!!
~NPC~
Bad Boys!
Dr. Troy Hellyar - {FC-Julian McMahon} Billionaire & Founder of LabCorp. Studied in the Genetic Institute of Bio Science & Engineering. He Specializes In Ancestry DNA - BioMetrics, Methylation, Genomic Imprinting. And Womanizing!
Robert Burns III - {FC-Brad Pitt} Senator's Aid
Lee Christmas- {FC-Jason Statham} A Hired gun who carries out his assignments with percision and strict code.
Do You Have Something Catwoman May Want To Steal?
Would You Like To Hire Her To Steal Something From Someone?
Or Maybe You Could Be Involved In Whatever Mischief She Gets Into With Her Enemies?
Do You Want Her To Get Tangled In With Your Enemies?
Or Maybe You Want To Meet Jim Or Neo Instead?
((If So, Leave A Meow In The Comment Box!!))
Current Threads
☑Kei ☑Dominic ☑Thomas Wayne ☑Caelestra ☑Kilala ☑Kirishima
YOU ADD YOU START!
Does Not Apply Here! I'm Flexible!
But Play By Your Own Rules You Set On Your Page!!
Don't Take Advange Of Mine!!
AND REMEBER CUROSITY KILLED THE CAT!
BUT......
SATISFACTION BROUGHT IT BACK!!
Birthday:
June 5
Character Age
30+
Character Abilites
~MORE ABOUT DAEMONS/FAMILIARS~ Kougar's Daemon Animal Soul can move in and out of Kougars body freely. And can give her the use of its power from the inside, by allowing Kougar to see through its Eyes, use its Claws, Have Heightened Hearing, and Smelling, and have the gift of Speed to be used for her Gain. But the Daemon soul or Familiar when outside of her body cannot go far from her. And if Injured it needs to be return back to her body in order to be Healed. If kept away to long while injured Both Her and Animal Soul will die. ~HER OTHER GIFT~ Astral Projecting is another gift she somehow obtained. Though it is not sure if it was due to the events of her childhood or was predestined. Astral projection can be done by Sleep or a Meditation state where Kougar can Travel anywhere by using the Daemon soul as a cord to her real body. The Spirit body can Travel to other places on Earth, but she cannot be seen by anyone. But to other realms she can be viewed. Also with Great Control of Low vibrations Kougar gives off she can move objects to some degree only when she puts all of concentrations into it.
Hello I'm Kougar Kyle. Address me as my Character. (I'm a 10 + year Vet Rper.) I don't go by the pronoun Fad. Cosplayer & Actresses Used: Kamiko Zero, Jemma Pepper, Nerdy Siren, Alexikens as Catwoman. Katie McGrath, Dita Von Teese as Kyle Herself! Various Pics are used in my Stories! Writer Must Be Over 21. Plotting Ideas Past & Present is Welcomed. All Threads Get Saved. If the Rper Wants to read Our Personal Thread and have access to it, please PM me your email address. Your email remains private. This Character Of Catwoman Is My Take Of Her. If we agree to write together than I expect you to write in a timely manner. The Creation Of Kougar Kyle And Her History Took Years To Develop And Is Ongoing. Don't Steal My Twist To The Character! My Character is a Thief, but I am Not!! Treat Me With Respect In The RP Community!!
Comment Wall
You need to be a member of Writer's Realm - Roleplay to add comments!
The man stared up at her rather calmly despite the situation. It could have been there, it could have not. All in all he was doing a fine job being unphased by the ordeal as a whole, whatever the reason was. More so, he was simply observant. He studied her behavior thus far with a glint in his eye and the internal questioning of what next?
And so the story began. It was one he had studied, and an era of time Dominic had passed through, although, he never witnessed the events he spoke of. No. He was still in England at the time. The scene of a revolution was no place for a coven working on growing their numbers in due time. History had its way of turning events into just that–stories. Throw a dash of magical interference into those happenings, and who knew just how many ‘human’ events were affected by supernatural entities? In some instances, he did. Paradox brought in a variety of stories held within the objects he procured over time.
While he showed a spark of life to the object and its lore, it seemed her eyes were on the blueprints with equal zeal. He set the photographs on the seat beside him in the meanwhile. When Dominic studied them? He saw logistics. Time. Energy. Already stinging with his personal losses of letting the object slip out of his hands, the building was a hurdle to be crossed, and one that he didn’t know what to fully expect from. He had no formal background to breaking-and-entering of that caliber.
Finally, he had seemingly heard enough. Just as another touch of pressure was added she’d feel something cold as ice on her ankle to halt it. The man moved ungodly quick by nature, with an imperceivable delay between her act and his left hand grasping ahold firmly. “–My dear, if you had so little blood to circulate in your body to begin with, is that where you would send it?” Dominic questioned sharply when his patience wore thin of the game she was playing. “Which shall I feign for you, Miss Dubrovna? Arousal, or fear? Which suits your fancy?” His tone was chastizing as if her assumption making had somehow let him down. His brow would knit together whether it was frustration, or an ounce of pain showing through. So ready to know, but so little patience to listen. His hand loosened to release her ever-so-gently but Dominic wouldn’t so much as blink.
“I know because the man’s wife had led a long and healthy life after his death, no matter whether she had kept wearing it or set it down. The object’s curse it by contact. It attacks and weakens the immune system of those closest to the wearer. Physical touch catalyzes its effects. It took the man a few days to develop symptoms and two weeks to die by it.” Her ankle remained in his grasp yet, which was stubborn to the notion of budging. Amber hues demanded her attention in the meanwhile. “As for me, my immune system has been dead just as long as I... The silver it’s made of poses more of a health concern to me than the magic placed upon it. Even if it was an issue, I don’t want it in my hands, or in Paradox’s walls to begin with. I carry enough risk for myself as is.”
So why did he want it? That was an answer that was harder to pry from his lips, but he somehow knew she wouldn’t go without. After one more sip, the glass of bourbon was set down on the end table not far from him. “No… no lover to kill... but I have a contract by the wife’s ancestors to decommission it. Some way or another, they found out of the amulet’s hex. They want to see it properly destroyed so it may stop wreaking havoc on its owners. As for the person who possesses it currently..? You were correct in asking... Vampire, yes. That night, they went by the name Severina Vesna. They are a collector just as I am, for reasons all their own… but their motive is questionable. I believe the amulet is among her collection.”
The vision was at first a wonderful sight. Color and warmth had returned to the drab old theatre building. The longer it went on however, memories were only memories. Another place, another time. There was a hollow sense to it, a yearning feeling as if the old walls wanted that time and place back… or in the least, what lived within it. Ophelia was a porcelain doll among it all, her figure twirling and swaying with a sense of liveliness that was long lost in her afterlife. Her crystalline blues went without their eerie glow that could give chills in the present, a stoic face exchanged for a vibrant smile as she kept up with her partner's footsteps. The moment was fleeting, a sign that the theatre had its high points in its day. High points that it’s reopening in the 1920s could have never duplicated compared to its prime.
Then there was its state now. Kei brought her back to it with the loud sound noting his activity elsewhere. The hollow old building had seen better days, but in the least, there were three that hadn’t given up on it. The spirit in the walls and the two stubborn cats that were choosing to hold onto it.
Absent from the room stocked with miscellaneous supplies, he’d cleaned himself up from dealing with the staples and thrown on a clean pair of clothes. Dark cargo pants lined with pockets, boots, a gray tank and a long sleeve over top. The torn leather jacket was opted out for a similar one hanging in the closet, which he set aside until needed. He couldn’t go without after it saved him some damage the last time. When he was finished he re-stocked from what hung on the wall, picking up a couple of Ruger pistols, a silencer, and half a box of silver bullets. It accompanied the silver dagger on his belt along with a regular. Digging through his backpack for one last thing, Jason froze when he heard the sound of music down the hallway. Before he knew the how or why, he was charging down the hall to make an appearance in the doorway.
“-Turn that shitoff,” Jason growled once he’d found the source, appearing in the doorway. “I’ve got enough shit on my plate, I don’t need that fucking spirit on my case,” He wasn’t asking.
*Thomas and Sam acknowledge Irena, standing up as she approached and offering her to sit with them for a few minutes*
To be honest with you Ms Dubrovna, or may I call you Irena? I was hoping that perhaps we might be able to sit in a more quiet place to discuss some business matters. I’m sure Sam wouldn’t mind sitting her and enjoying the show as we left.
*He waited for her reply, although he wasn’t really sure what her reaction was going to be considering he never did call her back about this arrangement he is about to discuss with her now, hopefully she would be willing to do so.*
When he was seemingly satisfied with whatever the room held in store, Dominic let his observations go to the woman. No hinting at the old theatre building could have ever brought him to this, not on its own. It was one surprise after another in a world that ceased to surprise him on some days. The walls took a backburner just as his glass would following the first couple sips, lowering it from his last, just in time for her to begin to draw near. Amber hues were mindful, lips pursing…
Still, just like the rest of the night, he couldn’t have predicted it. Her foot rose and his eyes were quick to follow the motion, alight when he realized where it would come down. Dominic hadn’t moved. He didn’t even flinch for that matter but with the way his expression changed and how still the man became, she had his attention. “Come now, let’s not be too hasty,” Dom uttered gently. Once more the velvet tone left his lips. The subconscious act he put up of breathing and fidgeting was over for the moment as she leaned in closer. His gaze flickered down to her foot, along with the fabric of the robe from which it appeared, as his eyes made their way back up to hers. “I need to evaluate my risks, just as you.”
Bite your tongue Dominic, he reminded himself thoughtfully. As she reached out to place a hand over his, the skin was cold to the touch, naturally. The glass might feel no different as she pulled it from his hand, fingers loosening their grip. So brazen, fearless at that. What a woman. As he watched her raise the glass to her lips, he might have cackled like a hyena if it weren’t for whatever he had on the line in tonight’s visiting. He wouldn’t let so much as a grin pass, but there was a glint in his eyes that told a story all its own. He had a story to tell all the same. The glass of bourbon was returned to his hand soon enough.
“So be it... There once was a man who lived in Paris. The year was around 1797, and France was nearing the end of its revolution after many years of violence of the people versus the government. This man was a military official. One that was particularly brutal in his dealings no matter if it were man, woman or child. It became crucial to those rogue citizens in Paris to take this man down, he was far too vile and ruthless to be allowed to carry on. There were assassination attempts by the week, but the man and his soldiers evaded all and captured some that were most unfortunate… and do you know how they did it?”
His hand that was empty rose from his lap and slipped into a pocket inside his suit jacket, without taking his eyes off of her. When he pulled his hand out, he had a couple of photographs between his fingertips. One looked well-aged, straight out of a historical photo album by the look of it alone. The other was relatively new. While he handed them over to her, he continued speaking. “It was a gift… not to the man, but his wife. It was sent to their estate in a plain package, and without a returning address… the note inside was handwritten and seemed pleasant enough.” Dominic’s eyes were cast toward the photos. “Inside was a gift, one quite valuable. An amulet comprised of emerald and sterling silver.” He took another sip of bourbon, studying a mark of lipstick left on the rim of the glass. He wore a rather deviant expression.
“As the wife thought nothing of it and wore it as a new prized possession. No one thought of it when her husband would start to become ill… the amulet was hexed. It brought sickness to whoever came into closest contact with the wearer. The cruel irony of it all is that the sicker the man would become, the more often his wife was at his bedside dotingly. The very thing he loved the most would become his cause of death only two weeks later.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he seemed to tell the story with some glee. Why? The romanticism, the mystery. The fact that whoever had planted the necklace to start was purely clever. It was a perfect crime, and certainly a miserable way to die. If only the man knew in hindsight.
“To answer your second question… an estate up North. It came and went on the market in a snap about eight months ago to a false name I had recognized. I have walked its perimeter once to be certain.” Another item was pulled from the jacket’s internal pocket; this time it was a couple pieces of paper, folded up a few times. He handed those over as well. Floor plans. Three levels. The kind that might come across a realtor’s desk for a property. Another page were photos of the mansion-like home’s front. Dominic watched her for a brief moment, studying her expression. All his research as of late had proven to pay off.
It was a precarious thing how their venue had changed since the theatre... just as they had put on different masks themselves. Dominic remained docile even as she made her own observations, watchful amber hues looking for any shift or indication she gave… it was a game, a dance. One that he was well acclimated to playing and all the more willing to partake in. Not that he didn’t have serious matters to be in attendance for and some funding to be burned on a worthy cause.
To whoever was watching the cameras in the club that night, they would see Dominic grin. It was a novel success in the grand scheme of things, but when it fell in his favor he would live in the moment just like any other. The grin sobered to a more pleasant smile by the time he was requested to follow. He spun on his heels to the snap of a finger. Dom rocked forward on them once before he took a stride in following her down the hall without hesitation nor another word. A pensive look was cast toward the door’s eventual gatekeeper, giving him only a moment’s thought before they would pass on through… What was this woman doing with the mangy street demon, anyway? The question was more and more prevalent in his mind since Dominic had entered the club and made his identification. For now, as they continued on into the much quieter portion of the establishment, the sounds of music and chatter were becoming far easier to filter from his senses. He kept his stride on the woman none too far ahead of him, spare the posters displayed proudly on the walls as they passed through.
The door was reached and he slowed his walk, waiting for it to be opened. He glossed over the name on it briefly before it was gone. With a nod of his head, he stepped through into the office space, ushered along quick enough to where he hadn’t bothered to study its contents. Into the next room they went, the music and bass still heard as it reverberated through the building but a conversational tone would survive in the room. Finally, a seat was taken within the cushioned lounge room. Dominic walked to the back, taking a seat along the shorter end of the couch giving access to study the posters and prints hanging along the wall. He took a breath and exhaled it as he settled back into the seat, whether it was an act to put the other living thing in the room at ease... or just to take him his surroundings.
“Yes, please,” Dominic responded as she offered a drink, to which he wouldn’t have turned down no matter the contents. The vampire seemed to make himself comfortable in the room thereafter taking the glass. He sat back casually as if he had been expected all along rather than dropping in. The dark atmosphere and furniture in the room put Paradox to shame with its decor. The glass of bourbon was held in his right hand gently, occupying his ringed hand while the other resided in his lap.
As she began to speak, she had his attention. Dominic’s head tilted just a few degrees as she recapped, her tone like velvet and to the brim with confidence. She was a lioness in her own domain now, after all. It was a demeanor that was a rarity and drew the man in with ease. By the time ‘Ms. Dubrovna’ cut to the chase, the man dropped his act all the same. “You have been in my establishment… and judging by our last meeting you might know what it truly is.” The pleasantries in his expression gave way to a more… stern demeanor and he sat up a notch straighter. “I am in the business of selling. What I buy and sell varies from weaponry to apothecary supplies. Hunting supplies, artifacts, relics… whatever my buyers might find commodity in. Enchanted items that can become quite dangerous in nature… if in the wrong hands.” There was a pause as Dom studied the glass in his hand, gathering his time to think. “...anything a man or woman may find value in, whether they are willing to pay by the dollar, or ounce–in some cases.”
Enough with the history lesson, but she should know where he stood. Finally, Dominic took a sip of the bourbon in his hand, unflinching as it went down. He had worse burning sensations in his throat and in his chest as is. When he lowered the glass, he jumped right back into it. “Three years ago, I had something stolen from me. I was in transit, returning from an underground auction in Paris where I had won the bid. I should have left the city shortly after, but I hadn’t, and well…” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Someone had gotten the better of me. I let my guard down, and when I could finally react, it was gone.” Dominic’s eyes studied the posters momentarily once more. The ‘Boolesque’ one seemed to draw him in first whether it was the art or just his own amusement. “This item… is priceless, to the right audience. To others, it may be outright dangerous. There is debate on whether it should still exist in this world.”
Amber hues shot back to Kougar then with a hint of a smile. “You know... my kind never forgets a scent we have come across, no matter how long it’s been. I have coven siblings that make their money off tracking… but my dear, I am no thief. Three years later, however, I’ve found where that scent leads. I know where the item may be. From what I know of the person, the grounds are bound to be under surveillance and guarded to the teeth. The timing will be where I come in… but the surveillance system requires an expert. Let alone any other surprises that may arise; I want to leave as little of a footprint as possible...”
Another sip of bourbon. Dominic shifted his seating just ever so slightly and raised a brow. "My dear, Shall I continue?”
The room went quiet again as the two left, static felt from Jason until he heard what he thought to be the echo of the door closing. The old building had seen more traffic in the past few weeks than it had in months… he was sure of it. That didn’t make the demon happy about it. He stared toward backstage where they had vanished for a long moment or so, stuck in his train of thought. He should have been hunting, not this. Still. If he hadn’t passed on through and intercepted her, then what would he have come back to the next time? Then there was the amusement park, of all places. It was another lead to check into, but another obligation. Another while longer he’d be stuck with the woman so long as their lives depended on it.
“Stick to your tools Miss Kitty, and all get to buyin’ more locks,” Jason murmured back whether she’d pick up on it or not; she was already on her way out.
As she returned to the old dressing room, the far wall clad with semi-decayed mirrors and chairs to match, nothing had truly changed since. There was no hair raising sensation as there once had been prior, no figure watching. No voices. It was oddly still yet far less menacing than in night as it was in the morning, with the light still streaming in from the thin cracks in the plywood that covered the external windows.
The moment her lips touched the reflective surface, rather than the cool touch of the mirror something else would be felt entirely. It was like fainting, yet subtle. A moment of lightheadedness would overtake her, a sense of falling in a sudden fashion that rendered her…
Somewhere else.
The mirror was no longer in front of her. The view that had flashed into her line of sight was lit brightly, lights giving a warm glow in the small room. Kougar was now standing in the dressing room doorway. No longer filled with dust and debris, it was filled with costumes and belongings to the performers that had come and passed. Music was heard behind her likely resonating from the stage area, the hum of a woman’s voice distant as her performance went on... but that wasn’t the sound closest to Kougar.
There was giggling in the dressing room. There stood the spirit that had once shown her face in the threatre’s old abandoned walls, now she was as lively as the living. She was dancing, twirling, a spring to her step that was carried out through the extravagant black ballgown that she was wearing. Grasping her hand was a man, tall, clad in a suit that seemed dated to a later time and place in history. He moved effortlessly as he directed her in small strides about the dressing room floor not far from where Kougar had pressed her own hand to the mirror. His other hand was at her waist, dark eyes smiling as he took the young woman for another spin. She laughed, her black ringlets swaying to the motion, rosy cheeks warm as was her gaze up to the man that had stolen a moment of her time away from the show. From the opera house. From the tour-
Click-
Just like that, when a loud sound interrupted, the sight of the couple and their dancing had vanished. The mirror before the Catwoman’s face was there once more, the feeling of its cool surface back again like she had only just touched it. She might feel a chill along with it. The theatre in its emptiness was a stark contrast from the warm depiction that had transpired. Her reflection would appear without disturbance on the other side. As for what had disturbed the vision..?
It was Jason. He had turned a key, forcing a door to move against its will as he pushed it open. It was the door beside his ‘arsenal’ stock room she had been in prior, one he had safeguarded the last time she had tried to pick it. Now it was open and left cracked open to a degree. Inside it was a bedroom. It was about as minimal as one could be, nothing new, and certainly not touched for a while by the looks of the dust that had gathered. A bed sat in one corner with a simple frame, neatly made but clearly left ignored for some time. The closet on the opposite wall was half-open. The walls had been painted over at one time or another, but the cracks were showing through on their own. On the wall, to the left of the door, was an array of nails with about a dozen firearms hanging neatly. It ranged from handguns to rifles, single shots up to semi-automatic. A few of the spaces were absent for some reason or another.
Meanwhile there sat Jason on the edge of the bed, a larger pocket knife in hand. Having burned the canvas already he was pulling out one of the last of his staples… staples that had been put in merely hours prior. The wounds were now strangely closed, the edges of each cut still a fresh color but they would hold together for the rest of their healing. With each one he pulled out he tossed it into a trashcan nearby.
The glance between Dahlia and Kougar may as well have been mutual, even with no words shared. She questioned the same, why she was spending her morning in an abandoned building for the demon… no one was more aggravated than her business partner, however, who was doing a favor in the least by remaining quiet. The woman went on to explain her work, her craft. From the markings to the streaks of blood left on the center mark, Jason could only wonder when they had gotten there and how much earlier. His thoughts might have trailed off to how useful it could be, until the vampire across the room spoke up. The demon all but glared, Dominic himself staring back adamantly once the decision was made. Dahlia in the meanwhile was between the two on the situation, starting to collect the candles on the canvas as they cooled.
"It's the work of my brother, something new he has developed… I would have to ask. He told me they’ll pack quite a punch." Dahlia responded. She caught Jason’s attention once more when he noticed she was packing up.
“What about this?” Jason muttered, gesturing toward the canvas left on the stage floor.
“That has the last trace of blood on it. Burn it once we leave.”
He watched as Dahlia got ready to do just that, packing up the supplies brought and hoisting the backpack over her shoulders. Dominic was closer toward the backstage curtain yet, taking subtle steps as he waited for the blood mage to join.
“Dominic,” It was Jason’s voice that spoke up, causing Dahlia to groan internally. Couldn’t the two be in the same room without a fight for once?
“Hm?” The vampire answered halfheartedly, hood drawn over his head, sunglasses in hand.
“Careful, it’s getting sunny out there. I wouldn’t stand in place for too long if I were you.” Jason warned, voice too sweet to be true. With one last sharp glance, Dominic slipped the sunglasses on and headed toward the door. The theatre building was silent once again aside from the handful of strays that had spectated the entire thing. Jason was still for a moment or so, staring between the canvas on the floor and the theatre’s balcony. He felt the hair on his arms raise knowing they weren’t the only ones present and watching... Still. It was growing too light out for the theatre’s ghost to make her presence. He cleared his throat all of a sudden.
“We should take what we need, I don’t know if being around here for long’s still a good idea.” He glanced over his shoulder to look at her. His eyes fell to the floor, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He loosened one from the rest and held it out to her. “Third door down… supply room. You’ve been in it. Doesn’t matter what you take, hell knows you’re going to anyway.” He picked up the canvas and folded it, tucking it under an arm. “I’ll be around in a second to do the same.”
Comments
The man stared up at her rather calmly despite the situation. It could have been there, it could have not. All in all he was doing a fine job being unphased by the ordeal as a whole, whatever the reason was. More so, he was simply observant. He studied her behavior thus far with a glint in his eye and the internal questioning of what next?
And so the story began. It was one he had studied, and an era of time Dominic had passed through, although, he never witnessed the events he spoke of. No. He was still in England at the time. The scene of a revolution was no place for a coven working on growing their numbers in due time. History had its way of turning events into just that–stories. Throw a dash of magical interference into those happenings, and who knew just how many ‘human’ events were affected by supernatural entities? In some instances, he did. Paradox brought in a variety of stories held within the objects he procured over time.
While he showed a spark of life to the object and its lore, it seemed her eyes were on the blueprints with equal zeal. He set the photographs on the seat beside him in the meanwhile. When Dominic studied them? He saw logistics. Time. Energy. Already stinging with his personal losses of letting the object slip out of his hands, the building was a hurdle to be crossed, and one that he didn’t know what to fully expect from. He had no formal background to breaking-and-entering of that caliber.
Finally, he had seemingly heard enough. Just as another touch of pressure was added she’d feel something cold as ice on her ankle to halt it. The man moved ungodly quick by nature, with an imperceivable delay between her act and his left hand grasping ahold firmly. “–My dear, if you had so little blood to circulate in your body to begin with, is that where you would send it?” Dominic questioned sharply when his patience wore thin of the game she was playing. “Which shall I feign for you, Miss Dubrovna? Arousal, or fear? Which suits your fancy?” His tone was chastizing as if her assumption making had somehow let him down. His brow would knit together whether it was frustration, or an ounce of pain showing through. So ready to know, but so little patience to listen. His hand loosened to release her ever-so-gently but Dominic wouldn’t so much as blink.
“I know because the man’s wife had led a long and healthy life after his death, no matter whether she had kept wearing it or set it down. The object’s curse it by contact. It attacks and weakens the immune system of those closest to the wearer. Physical touch catalyzes its effects. It took the man a few days to develop symptoms and two weeks to die by it.” Her ankle remained in his grasp yet, which was stubborn to the notion of budging. Amber hues demanded her attention in the meanwhile. “As for me, my immune system has been dead just as long as I... The silver it’s made of poses more of a health concern to me than the magic placed upon it. Even if it was an issue, I don’t want it in my hands, or in Paradox’s walls to begin with. I carry enough risk for myself as is.”
So why did he want it? That was an answer that was harder to pry from his lips, but he somehow knew she wouldn’t go without. After one more sip, the glass of bourbon was set down on the end table not far from him. “No… no lover to kill... but I have a contract by the wife’s ancestors to decommission it. Some way or another, they found out of the amulet’s hex. They want to see it properly destroyed so it may stop wreaking havoc on its owners. As for the person who possesses it currently..? You were correct in asking... Vampire, yes. That night, they went by the name Severina Vesna. They are a collector just as I am, for reasons all their own… but their motive is questionable. I believe the amulet is among her collection.”
The vision was at first a wonderful sight. Color and warmth had returned to the drab old theatre building. The longer it went on however, memories were only memories. Another place, another time. There was a hollow sense to it, a yearning feeling as if the old walls wanted that time and place back… or in the least, what lived within it. Ophelia was a porcelain doll among it all, her figure twirling and swaying with a sense of liveliness that was long lost in her afterlife. Her crystalline blues went without their eerie glow that could give chills in the present, a stoic face exchanged for a vibrant smile as she kept up with her partner's footsteps. The moment was fleeting, a sign that the theatre had its high points in its day. High points that it’s reopening in the 1920s could have never duplicated compared to its prime.
Then there was its state now. Kei brought her back to it with the loud sound noting his activity elsewhere. The hollow old building had seen better days, but in the least, there were three that hadn’t given up on it. The spirit in the walls and the two stubborn cats that were choosing to hold onto it.
Absent from the room stocked with miscellaneous supplies, he’d cleaned himself up from dealing with the staples and thrown on a clean pair of clothes. Dark cargo pants lined with pockets, boots, a gray tank and a long sleeve over top. The torn leather jacket was opted out for a similar one hanging in the closet, which he set aside until needed. He couldn’t go without after it saved him some damage the last time. When he was finished he re-stocked from what hung on the wall, picking up a couple of Ruger pistols, a silencer, and half a box of silver bullets. It accompanied the silver dagger on his belt along with a regular. Digging through his backpack for one last thing, Jason froze when he heard the sound of music down the hallway. Before he knew the how or why, he was charging down the hall to make an appearance in the doorway.
“-Turn that shit off,” Jason growled once he’d found the source, appearing in the doorway. “I’ve got enough shit on my plate, I don’t need that fucking spirit on my case,” He wasn’t asking.
*Thomas and Sam acknowledge Irena, standing up as she approached and offering her to sit with them for a few minutes*
To be honest with you Ms Dubrovna, or may I call you Irena? I was hoping that perhaps we might be able to sit in a more quiet place to discuss some business matters. I’m sure Sam wouldn’t mind sitting her and enjoying the show as we left.
*He waited for her reply, although he wasn’t really sure what her reaction was going to be considering he never did call her back about this arrangement he is about to discuss with her now, hopefully she would be willing to do so.*
So, can we talk?
When he was seemingly satisfied with whatever the room held in store, Dominic let his observations go to the woman. No hinting at the old theatre building could have ever brought him to this, not on its own. It was one surprise after another in a world that ceased to surprise him on some days. The walls took a backburner just as his glass would following the first couple sips, lowering it from his last, just in time for her to begin to draw near. Amber hues were mindful, lips pursing…
Still, just like the rest of the night, he couldn’t have predicted it. Her foot rose and his eyes were quick to follow the motion, alight when he realized where it would come down. Dominic hadn’t moved. He didn’t even flinch for that matter but with the way his expression changed and how still the man became, she had his attention. “Come now, let’s not be too hasty,” Dom uttered gently. Once more the velvet tone left his lips. The subconscious act he put up of breathing and fidgeting was over for the moment as she leaned in closer. His gaze flickered down to her foot, along with the fabric of the robe from which it appeared, as his eyes made their way back up to hers. “I need to evaluate my risks, just as you.”
Bite your tongue Dominic, he reminded himself thoughtfully. As she reached out to place a hand over his, the skin was cold to the touch, naturally. The glass might feel no different as she pulled it from his hand, fingers loosening their grip. So brazen, fearless at that. What a woman. As he watched her raise the glass to her lips, he might have cackled like a hyena if it weren’t for whatever he had on the line in tonight’s visiting. He wouldn’t let so much as a grin pass, but there was a glint in his eyes that told a story all its own. He had a story to tell all the same. The glass of bourbon was returned to his hand soon enough.
“So be it... There once was a man who lived in Paris. The year was around 1797, and France was nearing the end of its revolution after many years of violence of the people versus the government. This man was a military official. One that was particularly brutal in his dealings no matter if it were man, woman or child. It became crucial to those rogue citizens in Paris to take this man down, he was far too vile and ruthless to be allowed to carry on. There were assassination attempts by the week, but the man and his soldiers evaded all and captured some that were most unfortunate… and do you know how they did it?”
“As the wife thought nothing of it and wore it as a new prized possession. No one thought of it when her husband would start to become ill… the amulet was hexed. It brought sickness to whoever came into closest contact with the wearer. The cruel irony of it all is that the sicker the man would become, the more often his wife was at his bedside dotingly. The very thing he loved the most would become his cause of death only two weeks later.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he seemed to tell the story with some glee. Why? The romanticism, the mystery. The fact that whoever had planted the necklace to start was purely clever. It was a perfect crime, and certainly a miserable way to die. If only the man knew in hindsight.
“To answer your second question… an estate up North. It came and went on the market in a snap about eight months ago to a false name I had recognized. I have walked its perimeter once to be certain.” Another item was pulled from the jacket’s internal pocket; this time it was a couple pieces of paper, folded up a few times. He handed those over as well. Floor plans. Three levels. The kind that might come across a realtor’s desk for a property. Another page were photos of the mansion-like home’s front. Dominic watched her for a brief moment, studying her expression. All his research as of late had proven to pay off.
It was a precarious thing how their venue had changed since the theatre... just as they had put on different masks themselves. Dominic remained docile even as she made her own observations, watchful amber hues looking for any shift or indication she gave… it was a game, a dance. One that he was well acclimated to playing and all the more willing to partake in. Not that he didn’t have serious matters to be in attendance for and some funding to be burned on a worthy cause.
To whoever was watching the cameras in the club that night, they would see Dominic grin. It was a novel success in the grand scheme of things, but when it fell in his favor he would live in the moment just like any other. The grin sobered to a more pleasant smile by the time he was requested to follow. He spun on his heels to the snap of a finger. Dom rocked forward on them once before he took a stride in following her down the hall without hesitation nor another word. A pensive look was cast toward the door’s eventual gatekeeper, giving him only a moment’s thought before they would pass on through… What was this woman doing with the mangy street demon, anyway? The question was more and more prevalent in his mind since Dominic had entered the club and made his identification. For now, as they continued on into the much quieter portion of the establishment, the sounds of music and chatter were becoming far easier to filter from his senses. He kept his stride on the woman none too far ahead of him, spare the posters displayed proudly on the walls as they passed through.
The door was reached and he slowed his walk, waiting for it to be opened. He glossed over the name on it briefly before it was gone. With a nod of his head, he stepped through into the office space, ushered along quick enough to where he hadn’t bothered to study its contents. Into the next room they went, the music and bass still heard as it reverberated through the building but a conversational tone would survive in the room. Finally, a seat was taken within the cushioned lounge room. Dominic walked to the back, taking a seat along the shorter end of the couch giving access to study the posters and prints hanging along the wall. He took a breath and exhaled it as he settled back into the seat, whether it was an act to put the other living thing in the room at ease... or just to take him his surroundings.
“Yes, please,” Dominic responded as she offered a drink, to which he wouldn’t have turned down no matter the contents. The vampire seemed to make himself comfortable in the room thereafter taking the glass. He sat back casually as if he had been expected all along rather than dropping in. The dark atmosphere and furniture in the room put Paradox to shame with its decor. The glass of bourbon was held in his right hand gently, occupying his ringed hand while the other resided in his lap.
As she began to speak, she had his attention. Dominic’s head tilted just a few degrees as she recapped, her tone like velvet and to the brim with confidence. She was a lioness in her own domain now, after all. It was a demeanor that was a rarity and drew the man in with ease. By the time ‘Ms. Dubrovna’ cut to the chase, the man dropped his act all the same. “You have been in my establishment… and judging by our last meeting you might know what it truly is.” The pleasantries in his expression gave way to a more… stern demeanor and he sat up a notch straighter. “I am in the business of selling. What I buy and sell varies from weaponry to apothecary supplies. Hunting supplies, artifacts, relics… whatever my buyers might find commodity in. Enchanted items that can become quite dangerous in nature… if in the wrong hands.” There was a pause as Dom studied the glass in his hand, gathering his time to think. “...anything a man or woman may find value in, whether they are willing to pay by the dollar, or ounce–in some cases.”
Enough with the history lesson, but she should know where he stood. Finally, Dominic took a sip of the bourbon in his hand, unflinching as it went down. He had worse burning sensations in his throat and in his chest as is. When he lowered the glass, he jumped right back into it. “Three years ago, I had something stolen from me. I was in transit, returning from an underground auction in Paris where I had won the bid. I should have left the city shortly after, but I hadn’t, and well…” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Someone had gotten the better of me. I let my guard down, and when I could finally react, it was gone.” Dominic’s eyes studied the posters momentarily once more. The ‘Boolesque’ one seemed to draw him in first whether it was the art or just his own amusement. “This item… is priceless, to the right audience. To others, it may be outright dangerous. There is debate on whether it should still exist in this world.”
Amber hues shot back to Kougar then with a hint of a smile. “You know... my kind never forgets a scent we have come across, no matter how long it’s been. I have coven siblings that make their money off tracking… but my dear, I am no thief. Three years later, however, I’ve found where that scent leads. I know where the item may be. From what I know of the person, the grounds are bound to be under surveillance and guarded to the teeth. The timing will be where I come in… but the surveillance system requires an expert. Let alone any other surprises that may arise; I want to leave as little of a footprint as possible...”
Another sip of bourbon. Dominic shifted his seating just ever so slightly and raised a brow. "My dear, Shall I continue?”
The room went quiet again as the two left, static felt from Jason until he heard what he thought to be the echo of the door closing. The old building had seen more traffic in the past few weeks than it had in months… he was sure of it. That didn’t make the demon happy about it. He stared toward backstage where they had vanished for a long moment or so, stuck in his train of thought. He should have been hunting, not this. Still. If he hadn’t passed on through and intercepted her, then what would he have come back to the next time? Then there was the amusement park, of all places. It was another lead to check into, but another obligation. Another while longer he’d be stuck with the woman so long as their lives depended on it.
“Stick to your tools Miss Kitty, and all get to buyin’ more locks,” Jason murmured back whether she’d pick up on it or not; she was already on her way out.
As she returned to the old dressing room, the far wall clad with semi-decayed mirrors and chairs to match, nothing had truly changed since. There was no hair raising sensation as there once had been prior, no figure watching. No voices. It was oddly still yet far less menacing than in night as it was in the morning, with the light still streaming in from the thin cracks in the plywood that covered the external windows.
The moment her lips touched the reflective surface, rather than the cool touch of the mirror something else would be felt entirely. It was like fainting, yet subtle. A moment of lightheadedness would overtake her, a sense of falling in a sudden fashion that rendered her…
Somewhere else.
The mirror was no longer in front of her. The view that had flashed into her line of sight was lit brightly, lights giving a warm glow in the small room. Kougar was now standing in the dressing room doorway. No longer filled with dust and debris, it was filled with costumes and belongings to the performers that had come and passed. Music was heard behind her likely resonating from the stage area, the hum of a woman’s voice distant as her performance went on... but that wasn’t the sound closest to Kougar.
There was giggling in the dressing room. There stood the spirit that had once shown her face in the threatre’s old abandoned walls, now she was as lively as the living. She was dancing, twirling, a spring to her step that was carried out through the extravagant black ballgown that she was wearing. Grasping her hand was a man, tall, clad in a suit that seemed dated to a later time and place in history. He moved effortlessly as he directed her in small strides about the dressing room floor not far from where Kougar had pressed her own hand to the mirror. His other hand was at her waist, dark eyes smiling as he took the young woman for another spin. She laughed, her black ringlets swaying to the motion, rosy cheeks warm as was her gaze up to the man that had stolen a moment of her time away from the show. From the opera house. From the tour-
Click-
Just like that, when a loud sound interrupted, the sight of the couple and their dancing had vanished. The mirror before the Catwoman’s face was there once more, the feeling of its cool surface back again like she had only just touched it. She might feel a chill along with it. The theatre in its emptiness was a stark contrast from the warm depiction that had transpired. Her reflection would appear without disturbance on the other side. As for what had disturbed the vision..?
It was Jason. He had turned a key, forcing a door to move against its will as he pushed it open. It was the door beside his ‘arsenal’ stock room she had been in prior, one he had safeguarded the last time she had tried to pick it. Now it was open and left cracked open to a degree. Inside it was a bedroom. It was about as minimal as one could be, nothing new, and certainly not touched for a while by the looks of the dust that had gathered. A bed sat in one corner with a simple frame, neatly made but clearly left ignored for some time. The closet on the opposite wall was half-open. The walls had been painted over at one time or another, but the cracks were showing through on their own. On the wall, to the left of the door, was an array of nails with about a dozen firearms hanging neatly. It ranged from handguns to rifles, single shots up to semi-automatic. A few of the spaces were absent for some reason or another.
Meanwhile there sat Jason on the edge of the bed, a larger pocket knife in hand. Having burned the canvas already he was pulling out one of the last of his staples… staples that had been put in merely hours prior. The wounds were now strangely closed, the edges of each cut still a fresh color but they would hold together for the rest of their healing. With each one he pulled out he tossed it into a trashcan nearby.
The glance between Dahlia and Kougar may as well have been mutual, even with no words shared. She questioned the same, why she was spending her morning in an abandoned building for the demon… no one was more aggravated than her business partner, however, who was doing a favor in the least by remaining quiet. The woman went on to explain her work, her craft. From the markings to the streaks of blood left on the center mark, Jason could only wonder when they had gotten there and how much earlier. His thoughts might have trailed off to how useful it could be, until the vampire across the room spoke up. The demon all but glared, Dominic himself staring back adamantly once the decision was made. Dahlia in the meanwhile was between the two on the situation, starting to collect the candles on the canvas as they cooled.
"It's the work of my brother, something new he has developed… I would have to ask. He told me they’ll pack quite a punch." Dahlia responded. She caught Jason’s attention once more when he noticed she was packing up.
“What about this?” Jason muttered, gesturing toward the canvas left on the stage floor.
“That has the last trace of blood on it. Burn it once we leave.”
He watched as Dahlia got ready to do just that, packing up the supplies brought and hoisting the backpack over her shoulders. Dominic was closer toward the backstage curtain yet, taking subtle steps as he waited for the blood mage to join.
“Dominic,” It was Jason’s voice that spoke up, causing Dahlia to groan internally. Couldn’t the two be in the same room without a fight for once?
“Hm?” The vampire answered halfheartedly, hood drawn over his head, sunglasses in hand.
“Careful, it’s getting sunny out there. I wouldn’t stand in place for too long if I were you.” Jason warned, voice too sweet to be true. With one last sharp glance, Dominic slipped the sunglasses on and headed toward the door.
The theatre building was silent once again aside from the handful of strays that had spectated the entire thing. Jason was still for a moment or so, staring between the canvas on the floor and the theatre’s balcony. He felt the hair on his arms raise knowing they weren’t the only ones present and watching... Still. It was growing too light out for the theatre’s ghost to make her presence. He cleared his throat all of a sudden.
“We should take what we need, I don’t know if being around here for long’s still a good idea.” He glanced over his shoulder to look at her. His eyes fell to the floor, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He loosened one from the rest and held it out to her. “Third door down… supply room. You’ve been in it. Doesn’t matter what you take, hell knows you’re going to anyway.” He picked up the canvas and folded it, tucking it under an arm. “I’ll be around in a second to do the same.”
( Sorry dear. You're going to have to keep holding your breath on that one. Inquiries will have to wait. )
-
16
-
17
-
18
-
19
-
20
of 40 Next