| A never ending math equation. |
[02 Nov 2006|03:52am] |
There was something about Fremont St that beckoned everyone who came to Las Vegas to pass underneath it's expansive LED ceiling with a complete and total sense of wonder. Downtown Las Vegas was a spectacle on it's own, separated from The Strip by a shady stretch of Las Vegas Boulevard, nestled in the north amidst it's own bed of old town nostalgia.
Elian knew of it's existence in the back of his mind, much like he knew about everything else in the city. Somewhere in his mind he'd known he'd been there on previous occasions. It was a given, much like how he knew he once owned a '92 Acura Integra or that he'd never been to Disneyland. The funny thing was, however, he couldn't exactly remember the details of when he'd gone to Fremont, or with whom.
That was the troublesome thing about Elian's predicament. Most of his memories tended to skirt on the edge of something larger. He found it entirely frustrating that most of the things that seemed to drift in and out of his subconscious were like pieces of a much larger puzzle except none of them would fit. It were as though all those little pieces belonged somewhere, but not in the puzzle he was trying to build.
When he wandered around town in his free time, little things like sparks would ignite bits and pieces of memories, stuff he figured meant something but couldn't figure out why. He knew he'd been to Fremont St, and more strangely enough, he knew he'd been there recently. But he couldn't remember why. That was the piece that was missing. Another one of those things he couldn't put his finger on, and it was totally, fucking aggravating.
Like he normally did, Elian has his ball cap on backwards. He stood in the middle of the pedestrian street in front of the Four Queens with a bottle of Budweiser in his hand. People moved by in throngs, pushing in and out of the vintage casinos in droves, hoping to catch the last light show of the night. Like a statue, the former higher being stood in silent lament, while the rest of the world seemed to pass him by.
( In busy streets where people meet. )
Leigh stood as well and gave him an impulsive, tight hug. "Thanks for keeping me company for a couple hours, Eli. It's been very interesting." She gave him one last grin and nodded. "You're absolutely welcome for the beer and I'm certain we'll run into one another again!"
She tipped the brim of his hat once more and then melted off into the crowds that never thinned out after dark, picking a pocket on her way to get cab fare back to the seedy little place she'd managed to rent several blocks off the strip.
[NPC Leigh was written by Anne.]
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| It's Just One Thing After Another |
[02 Nov 2006|04:04pm] |
There had been six vampires when the fight got started, but Connor had managed to whittle the number down to three before too long. He grabbed one of them by the jacket and hefted him bodily into one of his companions, knocking both of them to the ground, then caught the third with a sweeping kick that took the creature's legs out from under it. The young man dodged a blow from interlocked hands as he darted closer, and then there was an explosion of ashes as a stake found its way into an unbeating heart.
Four down, two to go.
Connor rolled to his feet just as cold fingers snagged his shirt, and he jammed an elbow backwards into the next vamp's solar plexus before reaching before spinning around in a lethally graceful motion to grab the thing with both hands and snap its neck. More dust, followed by a rapidly fading scream.
One left.
"Run. Away." It was the first time he'd spoken since the brawl had started, and these were the times when he was neither Connor nor Steven, but someone altogether different.
Right that second, he was the Destroyer.
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