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Not Her Strength [21 Oct 2005|02:27am] [ mood | aggravated ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Mark Michaels it would seem was one of the most selfish men on the face of the planet. This whole time he had been saying that all he was doing was for the new baby on the way and here he was enjoying a card game with some of the money he had gained illegally. His daughter had yet to return all of his fifteen voicemails - it would seem that Kris really wanted nothing to do with him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her as he hadn’t done very much for her during her life. Though he had hoped her love for her family would outweigh all of the bad and he could count on her for back up when he met Dave. The events in Las Vegas had escaped his interest more or less and he hadn’t even stopped to think that his daughter might be in the thick of it given her special abilities. He hadn’t once thought that just maybe his daughter had a lot on her plate and she had bigger worries than her father’s gambling problem. “Haven’t you run up enough debt?” A low voice seemed to whisper in his ear. Mark didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, what kind of father would he be if he didn’t recognize his own daughter’s voice? He rested his cards down and gathered his chips. “Guess you’re right.” This was admitted reluctantly as gambling was really Mark’s first love shortly followed by Kris’ mother. Kris merely twitched an eyebrow and gestured with her hand, “Up and on your feet.” Her gaze was cool as it regarded the man who was her father, a man whose physical appearance was similar to her own but everything else was different. Kris knew that what she was going to do was close to family suicide, her mother would probably never talk to her again but she knew it needed to be done. “We going somewhere?” Mark inquired as he rose to his feet and he worked his way back into his jacket. Kris slid her eyes over to him and commented, “We’re going to talk.” Kris wasn’t good at talking; she preferred actions as they often led to solutions that talking didn’t. She had never been good at talking, even when she was a kid, she wouldn’t talk even when her school set her up with a counselor for all those problems she had had with other kids. When someone was hurting, they tended to lash out and those kids had been the nearest to her at the time. “Talk huh?” Mark asked with a lift of an eyebrow that looked so familiar that it seemed to send a shiver down Kris’ spine. “Fine baby girl, let’s talk.” He now stepped away from the table and followed after Kris. Eventually they found themselves outside of the casino and Kris turned to face her father eye to eye. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to call Dave, arrange a meeting and then you’re going to tell me and I’m going to be there when it’s time.” She seemed to swallow hard as she fought to hold his gaze, “I do my part and that’s it.” Mark listened closely and gave a nod of his head, “Seems fair.” He looked as if he was going to say something more but Kris’ hand rising in the air cut him off. He knew what that gesture meant, she was done and that was all the talking they were going to do. Kris gave a nod of her head before she turned on her heel to start walking away. What was done was done and now all she could do was hope that this all turned out for the best. reply

With All Due Heist [21 Oct 2005|07:53am] ( Not A Journal Item ) reply

Communication Malfunction [21 Oct 2005|12:57pm] [ mood | crappy ] Knowing her brother as well as she did, Olivia had found her way to the shop because Kael was obsessive when it came to that place and he hadn't been at home so he had to be there. At least, that's what she was hoping. Olivia had always been the optimist of the family; she got that particular trait from their father. So dressed in a simple denim skirt, a black baby tee, a denim jacket and a simple pair of flip flops, Olivia pushed open the door to Kael's shop. The bell tinkled against the door as it was pushed open and it swung shut. Short brown hair was pinned back and light brown eyes swept across the store. "Kael? You here?" She called as she ventured further into the shop itself. Quinn had been reluctant to go into work the next day knowing that Kael wouldn't be there, but after a mental wrestling match with herself she realized that sitting around the trailer doing nothing would only make her mental state worse. So she'd unlocked the doors right on time and proceeded to conduct business as usual. The sound of the voice distracted her from taking a brief inventory in the back room, and when she poked her head into the main area of the shop she saw a woman glancing around. "Uh, sorry, Kael's not...here right now," she said, stepping behind the counter. "Can I help you with something? What do you need?" ( Meeting The Family ) "Ooh you're a brave woman," Oliva muttered with a shake of her head. She now sighed and glanced at the time. "He's always been strong for as long as I can remember, a little overprotective at times." She pulled out what seemed to be a notepad from her purse and appeared to scribble a note, "Unfortunately I have to go, think you can pass along this note for me?" "Yeah. I'll see that he gets it." She accepted the piece of paper when Olivia handed it over, put it in her pocket without looking at it. "Sorry we had to meet like this," she added, waving her hand around at the shop. "Maybe next time there'll be better circumstances." Olivia quirked an eyebrow at that comment but brushed it off, "Maybe, take care." With that said, she gathered up her purse and returned her attention to Kael's phone as she started out of the shop. Quinn watched her go, then looked back at the door of Kael's workshop when the bell jingled again. Maybe she'd go in there later and just...tidy up or something. He'd probably appreciate his tools being kept in order until he got back. It'd be the least she could do for him until she saw him again. "We'll get you home soon, Kael," she muttered, heading back to her inventory-taking, even though she was unsure of who 'we' even might be. She made a mental note to go by the Nugget after work and make sure Sonya was present and accounted for. If nothing else, it would distract her. "We'll get you home soon." reply

Smile For The Camera! [21 Oct 2005|06:54pm] [ mood | pleased ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ A ruckus had drawn Bethany out of her office and her lips had twisted into an unbecoming scowl as she took in what seemed to be a fight happening. According to Ralphael, the fight had initially been between the demons and the female vampires partaking in the club for the night but it had expanded. Her security was apparently doing its best to handle it but the group of six seemed to be giving just as good as they got if not better. Though what gave the Slayer pause were the faces that seemed set on destroying her security and club. They seemed to be missing large chunks of skin and what face they did have seemed to be disintegrated to expose almost dead skin. Though the faces seemed to blur as Bethany swept her eyes down to the clothes the would-be vandals were wearing and an eyebrow lifted. “Uniforms,” Bethany muttered quietly to herself and a distinct light caught her eyes. In any other situation, Bethany would be pissed off that her club was being demolished but right now, she had an opportunity. She left her security team to deal with the destructive elements and moved through the club to the ‘security room’ and as she opened the door, one of the men turned and his eyebrows seemed to shoot right up. He was obviously not expecting to see her especially with the commotion happening within the club itself. Bethany eased his concern by offering one of her slow almost flirtatious smiles, “Do me a favour? Record every second and make sure the tape is on my desk when everything is taken care of. Make sure you get a good shot of their faces.” He simply gave a nod before he watched as the door swung shut and Bethany strode through her club until she clasped the banister and pulled her weight over and dropped it a floor. The dance floor had already cleared the moment the demons had started throwing their weight around and Bethany’s security had made sure to get the people out before any lives had been lost. The Slayer landed in a crouch and a mass of blonde hair fell over one shoulder and obscured her view briefly until it was pushed aside and Bethany rose to her feet. She seemed to be taking her time to remove her stiletto sling backs before she simply left them on the ground and removed the cream silk jacket she was wearing. This revealed a black tank top and cream coloured pants hung low on her hips, the incisions she had made on herself were already healed over so Bethany was in fighting form. A hand caught one of the demon’s arms and twisted the entire length before the other hand curled into a fist to meet with the demon’s face. No-one messed with her club, she didn’t care if they were human or demon, anyone who had issue with her club had issue with her. Bethany grunted as she barely managed to avoid a punch but she refused to relinquish her grip on the demon’s arm. She bent at the waist and wrapped one arm around the back of the demon’s neck before hooking a stocking covered foot around his ankle. She then used her strength to kick his ankle out from under him and she used her arm to help drive the demon’s face into the ground. The air was knocked from chest but she recovered quickly and used the respite to flip herself up just in time to take a sharp blow to her stomach. She was knocked into the wall and pinned there as the demon wrapped her neck with its hands. Bethany lifted a knee and drove into his crouch and as the grip loosened, she thrust the heel of her palm up towards its nose. The blow was enough to knock it off her and Bethany now turned to drive the sole of her foot into the demon’s chest. It staggered back and then fell over a nearby stool. Two were down more or less which left her with four so Bethany decided to go for higher ground. She jumped onto a nearby stool and then found her way to the counter of the full length bar. As the demons came for her, she jumped back and flipped her body around to land in a crouch behind the bar. She had only a few seconds to act and so she did. Her hand retrieved one of the bottles of alcohol and she snatched up a rag to soak it in alcohol before she thrust the material into the neck of the bottle and she made sure it was secured. Bethany’s eyes glanced to her bartender who appeared to be taking cover and snapped her fingers before opening her hand to catch the lighter that was thrown her way. She flicked the lid of the lighter open and then ignited the very edge of the material. Once the rag was burning brightly - she rose up from behind the bar and flung her home made Molotov cocktail at the nearest demon. The bottle shattered upon impact, the liquid spilled out and the flames ignited until the demon was set on fire. Several eyes looked to her and sneers twisted their faces into a hideous visage though with one of their own on fire, they thought better of tackling Bethany and fled out the door. Her guard didn’t fall until she was sure the demons were gone and when it finally did, her shoulders sagged and her breathing came swiftly. A quick sweep of the general area revealed to her the extent of the damage and she almost groaned. She was going to have to make another claim on her insurance and deal with ungodly paperwork. However Bethany wasn’t too worried with that as she planted her hands down on the bar and she pulled herself over the counter to land on the ground. She gathered shoes and jacket and then progressed to her office where sure enough a tape was waiting. She reached down and lifted the tape to her line of sight, “Gotcha.” Bethany murmured with a self satisfied smile that bordered on smug. reply

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