xp_logs | Bleeding: On the run

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September 4th, Club OPM

It wasn't a bad place; decent alcohol-content in the drinks and decent music, especially now that Manuel had insinuated himself into the clubowner's good graces. Perhaps a bit heavy on the atmospheric mist, but such things could be forgiven. The mixture of locals and expatriots made for an interesting blend. The crowd was young, hip and beautiful. Just like home.

Other things, perhaps, not so much.

"Nah, just been travelin' for a bit," Marius said to the woman reclining next to him, strangely conscious of the black stiletto caressing his ankle. "A journey of personal growth, you might say. You, then? Student?"

The woman tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, letting Marius see a generous amount of cleavage. He was the kind she liked, obviously mutant, but at the same time human-looking. Especially the eyes. She loved the eyes.

"No, I decided that school was not for me," her accent marked her as Slavic, "I have been traveling, too. But I like it here. How are you liking it then?"

"Good mates, good music, beautiful women. What's not to like?" Marius smiled as he raised his almost-empty drink, the exposed teeth of his palm pressed against the glass. Jennie was out on the dancefloor; awareness of her tugged at the edge of his attention like the flicker of a candle at the corner of his eye. Moving in the dark, somewhere. "School's nice enough, but I've had a regrettable run of ill health. Quite disruptive to my studies. An' relaxation is an important factor in proper convalescence, eh? You know what they say -- it's hazardous to one's health to deny the appreciation of life's smaller pleasures."

"I couldn't agree more." The woman, Irina, smiled, her eyes half-lidded. She took the cherry out of her own drink and brought it to her lips, painted so red and shiny they almost looked like plastic, "It is best to find way to properly relax, especially if you have been in bad health." She bit the cherry off the stem, her small pink tongue skating out to lick her lips slowly.

"Indeed. In my experience, an untimely deficit can become a critical impediment to recovery." Well, that was one of the more eloquent fruit-eatings he'd ever seen. Marius flicked his head, making the dreads swing and conveniently breaking eye-contact. "Mates won't be missin' you then? I should hate to be the cause of undue distress for your no doubt large circle of friends."

Irina sighed theatrically, "No, I am alone tonight. Nobody felt like coming out with me. Which is why I am so glad for your company." She laid a not-so-subtle hand on Marius's thigh. "And you? Your friends decided to be elsewhere?"

"They're about, providin' their own entertainment, as they are wont to do. Shame on them. I am quite abandoned. Though I suppose there is some benefit to the willful deprivation of their company." Marius hesitated to reciprocate the touch, and wondered why. She was an attractive woman. Why shouldn't he? The last few months he hadn't exactly been in a position to indulge, but there was no reason he couldn't now. Right. Smiling wolfishly, Marius lay one hand over Irina's to stroke her wrist.

There was something odd in the boy's hand. Irina's interest piqued, and she leaned in closer to Marius, cleavage brushing against his arm. Before he could protest, she turned his hand over and examined the tiny mouth in his palm. "Oh my," said Irina, with an almost predatory grin. She ran one questing finger over the top row of teeth.

The involuntary shiver was unsuppressible. He remembered, suddenly, sitting in the restaurant with Terry all those months ago, her breath whispering across his palm. A lifetime ago.

"Yeah," Marius said, a little tightly, "mind the teeth. They snag a bit. No worries, I'll keep them clear."

While the woman had all the subtly of a brick, she did not miss the boy's shudder. Aw, he's shy. "You need not worry about me," she said coyly, "I am very hard to disturb." She placed her other hand on his thigh, considerably higher. "Relax." Still, when the boy would not untense, she decided more drastic measures would need to be taken.

Lifting the boy's hand, she slowly kissed the boy's fingertip. And then slid it in her mouth.

Marius prided himself on having very few limits, but that, he discovered, was one of them. He jerked his hand away, and in the instant of revulsion his flesh rippled, hardening, sharpening. The woman screeched as the skin on the inside of her lips parted beneath his finger, incisions deep enough to draw blood. Marius shot to his feet, the bass of the techno music of the dancefloor throbbing through him like a heartbeat.

"Yebat' vashu mat'," she cried, clapping one hand over her mouth. The stinging was accompanied by the coppery tang of blood. The stupid kid had cut her! "Zadnitza- ischenzni!"

Fists clenched as Marius fought down the change. Grey skin trembled, and the sharp edges against his palms softened again.

There. Fine. Everything under control.

He looked up at the furious woman now pressing a napkin to her bleeding lips. "Excuse me," Marius said, and walked away.

Jennie had gotten lost in the music, letting the bass carry her away. She had been giving off her practiced "leave me alone vibe," preferring instead to dance by herself. At least there, in her own little world, everything was safe. She didn't have to worry about the boys, the small, silent girl, or how she would get them their next payday. Now, it was just her and the music.

Then she saw Marius.

He found her on the other side of the floor, dancing behind a spiky-haired young man who was clearly trying to catch her attention. Without a thought Marius stepped between the two, orange eyes gleaming almost yellow as he passed beneath a spotlight. He slipped one hand onto his friend's waist, high and light, barely a touch at all, and leaned in to make his words heard over the beat.

"Dance with me?"

Wordlessly, without even breaking her rhythm, Jennie turned and included him. Close enough that to any onlooker the pair seemed like a couple. The hand on the hip was a signal between the two friends, a sign that one of them was being pursued and uncomfortable with it. Usually it was Jennie who was in need of rescuing, and Marius would happily provide boyfriend cover. Tonight it seemed, it was Marius who was on the run.

There was no mistaking the strained look in Marius's face, even in the strobing lights of the dance floor. Jennie reached out and drew him closer.

Just as wordless, he let himself be moved closer by the gentle tug on his shirt. Marius closed his eyes as she turned against him, moving in time to the music, focusing on the familiar motion of her body scant inches from his, and let it fall away. Not thinking of the woman across the room, not thinking of the blood drying on his hand. Not thinking of anything at all. There was only the music pounding in his ears, the sweat starting on his neck and forehead, and Jennie.

Dance.

September 6th, Monte Carlo

It happened in a small corner store about a block from their new hotel. Jennie had gone in to buy gum, because even though her appetite had returned, somewhat, she was still having problems eating. She could eat an apple in the morning and be full for the rest of the day, and Jennie knew that was a bad thing. She could count her ribs, and her hip bones were becoming a dangerous weapon. So she'd resorted to chewing gum, in the hope that the stimulation would at least make her hungry.

She stopped near the gum display, sounding out the french before deciding on a packet of what looked like Juicy Fruit. She then turned to make her way to the cash register, getting stuck behind an elderly customer who seemed determined to pay the equally as elderly cashier all in pennies. Jennie sighed and rolled her eyes. She started reading the newspaper headlines by the cashier. The shop and hotel were in a busy travel center, so the corner shop carried newspapers in several languages. Including English.

"Aw, that crazy animal guy died. Poor guy," Jennie muttered to herself, she stepped closer and began to read the story, but stopped dead when she saw the date. "SEPTEMBER?" Jennie grabbed the paper with shaking hands. "No no no, that's not right. It can't be September already." She looked at all the other papers. Each had the same date.

Jennie's heart began to beat faster. "Um. ~Pardon me, I'm sorry, is this date correct?~" She nudged the elderly lady in front of her and pointed to the date on the newspaper.

"~Yes, it is. September 6th, 2006. Is there something wrong?~" The woman cocked her head at Jennie.

"Yes. I mean, maybe. I don't know. Merci, je suis désolé. Y a il a... Phone? Téléphone public?" Jennie was starting to feel like she was in one of those dreams, where you discovered that there was a class you hadn't gone to all semester and had only just found out on the day of the final.

"~Yes, just around the corner.~" The clerk was now looking at her, equally concerned. Jennie didn't blame them, she was suddenly feeling quite nauseous. "~Are you all right, miss~?"

"Peachy." Jennie said weakly. She put the paper and the gum back on the rack, and then took off out of the store. How had she missed it? How in the hell had she not noticed it was September and that the three weeks she had given herself to talk Marius into coming back to the school had LONG since expired? Then again, she usually was barely aware of what day of the week it was, nevermind what month.

She skidded to a halt in front of the payphone and began to hunt for change, before reaching for the receiver. The school, she had to call the school. They were missing her by now. They had to be. Even if they weren't, they could help with the girl. She didn't care if it would upset Marius.

Jennie picked up the receiver, only to drop it as she was hit with a full-blown panic attack. She crouched down and hugged her knees, breathing coming in quick gasps. What in the hell? Her heart was beating so rapidly it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

Calm down. Breathe. Nothing's wrong. You'll pick up the receiver and call home. That's it. She reached one shaky hand towards the dangling receiver before she was hit with another wave of sheer panic. She whimpered and slid towards the wall. I can't. I can't do it. Why?

They can't find us.

Jennie put her hands over her eyes and leaned her head against her knees. She took several shuddery breaths, trying to still what felt very much like a heart attack. Lifting her head after several long moments, she blinked and rubbed her eyes. Then she noticed her palms.

The small pink spot in the center of one had become a matching set on the other. With the first one having become larger and darker. Jennie stared at them in shock, suddenly unable to breathe.

"I want to go home."