stone_roses

Who: Vivian and Breacan.
When: Now.
Where: New York City.

Rating: R for sexual content and talk of violence.
------------------------------------------------------

I pick terrible times to travel.

The thought came when I exited the warmth of one of Hush’s limousine’s to depart into the bitter cold of New York City Winter. Mac, Fiachra MacLir, had been the one assigned to pick me up from the airport and I wanted to protest having him chauffer me around like hired help, when I could do the job of driving myself perfectly well. Admittedly I was more than a little thankful Martel sent a driver. The busy airport filled with harassed workers who saw to equally harassed holiday passengers, managed to get on my wire thin nerves, and the safety of the warm limousine was a cure to soothing my rattled experience.

( It was a bold move. If I was expected to be part of this arrangement then I should get something out of it too. It may be too bold of a move…  )

Who: Markus. Vivian.
When: Sorta back dated.
Rating: R for violence.

----------------------------

Markus tossed the cell phone into the opening darkness. This was it, we were going to die. There were just fragments of flooring scattered about and down below I could see a ball of light coming up from the abyss. I tilted my head looking at it fascinated. “Is that…”

“Fire. Marty is sending up fire to finish off the shadowalkers, the light will kill them.”

Fire.

“We’re going to burn alive, over and over, until we lose our heads and die?” I felt my stomach lurch up into my mouth and my hand grabbed at Markus’s hand holding on tight in sheer terror. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to wake the fuck up, right now. Please. Please. Please.

( I gave Markus a side glace. I suddenly felt glad I didn’t want to talk. He looked …very un-Markus like…defeated almost. I wanted to ask him what he had seen. I asked him. )

Who: Mac. Markus. Audr. Vivian.
When: Sorta back dated.
Rating: R for violence.

----------------------------

Someone was shouting. Alright, maybe it was more a whisper, either way someone was trying to talk to me at the crack ass of dawn. I had regretted the decision to take to the bed without one of those useful body warmers Marty - daddy - always supply for me and I always needed to curl up against like they were my own personal security blanket. I had chosen the one night to want to sleep alone. I could have prodded one of the body warmers out of the bed to see who was from the school of ‘shout louder and the foreign language is immediately translated into the mother tongue of instant understanding.’

( I was going to die, in this hotel room with Markus. I wanted to punch Fate in the face. The voice in my head whispered: shut it. I wanted to punch that face too )

Who: Vivian. Marty. Fin. Mac. Eothian. Markus.
When: Nowish.

Rating: R for adult content. Maybe NC-17 for sexual talk about a horse.
------------------------------

The bar was one of many at the hotel Marty owned. This one was simple in appearance just a normal down to earth bar and Vivian was sitting at one of the tables with two others. Well, technically one was sitting at the table. The other was stretched out on the floor, his ever present duffle bag under his head as a make shift pillow. And a stuffed toy cow lay in the crook of his arm as the other arm lay across his eyes while he gave the appearance of sleeping. The old man didn't snore unlike his older brother who at that point in time wasn't snoring seen as he was sitting opposite Vivian drinking straight Tequila. Her gaze was on him as he drank, more to the point it was wide eyed and she had her mouth slightly opened as she looked at him.

"What?" Mac arched an eyebrow at Vivian who had been starting at him slack jawed for the last few seconds. Mac was never one for much words unless something ticked him off and he would let loose with a stream f-bombs followed by more words than he was generally known for.

(  It wasn't the most shocking thing she had ever seen on a man but on Mac .... Pouring himself another drink into the shot glass Mac gave a rare chuckle. )

Who: Vivian and Markus.
When: Now.
What: Learning the game.

Rating: R for adult concepts.
-----------------------------

The atmosphere cooled her skin as she made her way into the building. Once inside her eyes adjusted to the difference in light. Scent of beeswax filled her nose, and her hand smoothed along the wooden pews of the church seats. He was easy to spot. Easy to feel. Vivian made her way to him taking a seat up in front. She stretched out across the seat and noted a look of disapproval cross his hard set features.

"One genuflects before taking a seat."

Vivian shrugged, "I'll remember the next time we visit."

"Is this going to be habit forming?" Markus asked. The look of disapproval being replace with a softer look of amusement.

( He knew what she wanted to ask. He had solicited the same questions in the beginning too. Markus only recieved one answer to make sense of the game,  )

Who: Vivian. Breacan. Mac. Eothian.
When: Now.
Where: Trinidad - still.

Rating: R for violence.
------------------------------

The one thing that surprised Vivian about Audr’s brother was the fact the captain never stopped to kill anyone. She was quite sure he was able to take out the men they were running from, instead, they ran. When she just about had enough of being drag along and finding herself dodging bullets the captain managed to lose the group of hunters. She didn’t under stand why they just didn’t kill the bad guys.

As they drove away in a taken car she gave the man beside her a side glace. He looked like ‘good people’. Her gaze moved over the man’s profile noting the firm jaw with a hint of five o’clock shadow, the elegant nose, the round almost baby face, and soft lips ---lips that didn’t seem to have a cynical line to them --- lips meant for kissing. She wondered who had kissed that mouth. The face was, she decided, impressive. That kind of face could have got him any where and probably did. He was quieter than the strong hand man at the safe house named Mac. Vivian wondered what this man’s story was. There was a story she was certain of that, they all had stories.

( With her head laying against Mac's chest, Vivian was more than pleasantly surprised to find his muscled body still had a softness, making him a some what comfortable human pillow... )

Where: Trinidad safe house.
Who: Mac and Vivian.
When: Now.

Rating: R.
-------------------


Surreal.

The only word which seemed to sum up exactly how everything appeared to Vivian.

“I told you already, I’m not repeating myself.”

Her angry gaze settled on the man in front of her.

“Yeah, I heard.” He said.

Not one for a lot of words, that one. She mused. If Vivian had not known him through Audr she would have thought Mac was a big, dumb, brute; the muscle man of the group.

( Other thoughts settled in her mind, old thoughts. Vivian didn’t trust anyone and there was no reason to trust these men. Not the hard man with no hair and the softest eyes she had ever seen... )