stone_roses

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

Rating: R for sexual content and talk of violence.
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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: Vivian. Breacan. Mac. Eothian.
When: Now.
Where: Trinidad - still.

Rating: R for violence.
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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... )

Who: Vivian. Nick Torres. Audr. Breacan. Mac. Eothian.
When: Nowish.
What: New Immortal.

Rating: R for adult talk and violence.
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She could feel everything shifting around her, or in her head. She wasn’t sure. Peeling her eyes open to survey her surroundings the battered walls around her spun in an endless movement. There were sounds groans and cries of pain sounding out around her as that irate accent of Torres's familar voice rang through her, the anger was enough to make her flinch. She hated the voice.

“I don’t pay you to think, kill them now!”

The voice snarled. Torres. She knew that much about the voice she had grown used to hearing.

“Whoa, some one has him pissed off.” Vivian muttered under the pain she could feel in her body as the restraints held her down. “At least it isn’t me.”

“Reckon not, it’d be me he’s mighty annoyed at.”

( Audr shouted out a string of words in Old Norse. “Rude. Speak a language we all know.” Replied Torres. Audr flipped him the bird....  )