| Subject: Silent points of interest. |
Author:
Polly
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Date Posted: 10/12/13 5:33:10am
In reply to:
Ruger Moss
's message, "/|Kick It In the Sticks|\" on 10/10/13 10:42:28pm
Polly couldn't help it. Her lips twisted into a somewhat amused smirk at Ruger's gentle scolding. "You got it, Tiger," her own low voice whispered through the darkness. Perhaps some of her bemusement came down to the fact that of all the times a man had told her she'd almost stopped his heart, she almost believed Ruger and it wasn't a sappy line either. She was beginning to understand that he was a lot softer on the inside than all that swagger would have one believe. And she had noticed him blushing in the truck as she slid into a more practical outfit. The information was stowed away somewhere for her perusal at a more convenient time, but she did make a mental note about his level of discomfort and her future discretion.
When the lights finally gave Ruger a good picture of what Polly could see all along she stood to comply and move out of his way. Biting her lip only after her back was turned helped her suppress the chuckle she felt bubbling up. Ruger was fun when he got all worked up. She'd have to remember that. Polly maneuvered her way around so she was on the opposite side of where Ruger planned to arrive after he confirmed her suspicions about the stairs. She didn't want to sound condescending, but part of her wanted to express how good it was to hear all the right words coming out of his mouth. It was reassuring somehow. She felt a very small portion of the alertness she had trained on him diminish and respect was slowly taking it's place.
Crouched in the shadows where the light couldn't reach her she watched him rappel his way upwards. With her goggled vision she could see the way his muscles moved beneath the flesh of his arms, the force of his exertion making it clear what kind of excellent shape he was in. There was something so human about the way he was working up a sweat. But then there was also a flash of something on the tip of her tongue, copper, that brought her attention to the state of his hands. It sobered her, the smears of crimson he left on the paracord. And like a light going out the humor Ruger seemed to systematically infuse in her died out in favor of the task at hand. She stood from her post and began slowly, quietly making her way up. She wanted to be fifteen or twenty feet above him. The vampire would no doubt go after Polly if given a chance, she was too much of a temptation when circumstances were normal, but fresh blood was fresh blood and frenzied vampires didn't have two brain cells to rub together when the hunger got a hold of them.
Polly had just made it to another good lookout spot when her body went cold for a second. She swiveled around in enough time to see Ruger make it to the ledge and slip. It was strange, what she was capable of in that moment. It was one of those times when she wondered just how broken her mind really was.
She couldn't describe how she just knew what the vampire was up to or how she watched Ruger and knew his trajectory if he fell. She couldn't explain the weird clarity that came or the way her right hand clenched the whip as if plucking him from the air would be an option. Her left hand was in agony, the muscles clenched involuntarily to such a state that she hissed quietly in pain when muscles started to cramp and tear. The force of her involuntarily grip pushed the tips of her silver claws through the protective leather of her glove.
But then it was over, he snarled and caught himself before making it onto the rickety ledge. The muscle spasm had done it's damage, but it released her left hand as soon as he was in the clear. It dangled limply at her side, tingling pins and needles as the blood tried to return. It felt a lot like freezing rain, which from the sound of it had just started coming down like a monsoon. All the better to cover the bits of noise they couldn't help.
She had schooled herself long before he peered up to find her, but when he spoke she was still glad to have another barrier between her eyes and his. She had very few secrets that were truly her own. The way her hand seemed to occasionally be possessed by something that wasn't hers because of a strange fucking tattoo that hurt like a bitch when shit got real...she had no intention of letting anyone in on that little slice of what the fuck. "You best not be giving me a reason to, Tiger. The dog would never forgive me." At least the dog's feelings she could admit to worrying over.
When the vampire started going ape shit upstairs, Ruger didn't have to tell her twice. She lost some of her former speed having to care for her extremely sensitive left hand. Had she been a less stubborn person, it would have been shaking with exhaustion and temporarily unable to obey. In the end, there was something pretty damn motivating about listening to your prey bring the walls down up top. It was possibly trying to scurry away from the blood scented. She wondered if it had caught scent of her blood once more and remembered what had happened the last time he'd gotten a whiff of that rich, heady poison. She still had enough mind to toss a quip Ruger's way, "He's a little early for that appointment. I wasn't planning on sending him to hell for at least another few minutes..."
When she did make it to the top she chalked her hands to help hide the blood seeping from the tears in her left glove, but also to dry her grip to give Ruger a hand up the last bit of the ledge so he wouldn't have to crawl over it. Her skin still felt raw and over sensitive, but her hand obeyed her.
She didn't give Ruger much time to situate himself topside before the weird looking water gun/rifle was in her arms and she was creepy silently down the hallway. The stench of death was far more apparent up here. It coated the air like tendrils of fear that rubbed invasively over you like a pushy cat. She'd been in the middle of worse, surrounded by things that sometimes haunted her nightmares, but she could fully admit she had never been into a nest that had smelled this much like old death. She understood, in some small portion of her mind, that it wasn't really a smell in the first place, but it was a close as she could get to identifying how she knew.
Her mind was not calm or silent like other predators. It was filled with so much noise and information, things she had to understand and trust her instinct with because rationally nothing about this shit made sense to her. She just knew she had work do to and she used all that noise, all that information, to her advantage. As Polly crept along the dusty old hall she realized the vampire didn't quite know what was up.
They were in range now for her goggles to give her a pretty good impression of what he was doing. He probably had scented their blood and knew they were coming, but he must not have realized they were already breathing down his neck. It looked very much like he was blocking off another route up as collapsed a wall into another set of stairs. Her body had gone still as she watched him, her vision not hampered by the hallway around him. She couldn't see details, but she could tell by the readings she was getting that he was fucked up pretty bad and hemorrhaging that energy that kept vampires ticking.
Over the ten or so seconds she observed him, something about her posture changed. It was like Polly shed the pretenses. She let herself go further into the chaos of her mind where killing things that hunted her fit like a glove. She was doing something she needed to do, something that was necessary, something she was really good at.
Polly was just about to step forward when the vampire stopped ripping the stairs from the wall. She wasn't sure where it was headed exactly, but she knew it was going to intersect their path on the way there. He was clearly trying to scent them lower in the building where he expected them to be. She must have really ruined his senses if he couldn't smell her blood this close. She couldn't risk moving further down the hall without alerting him though.
She held her hand out to stop Ruger from passing her. Hoping Ruger would understand her she crouched the the ground and used a silver tipped claw to make lines in the debris on the ground. The barely created noise of her movements was lost by the natural loud atmosphere of the house and the storm. From her quick lines Ruger would be able to see that the vampire was two rooms down and headed to the same hall they were in. She gestured to a room on the other side she thought he might be crossing into. When she was done, they had about sixty seconds before he made his way into their hall. She didn't know if Ruger could creep his way to the other end of the hall in time, but it was obvious she was suggesting they surprise him from both sides if they could. She fully intended to rend the vamp temporarily senseless and hopefully entangled in her whip where he'd make an easier target to shoot at.
When she was done she grabbed her strange whip and twisted the end of it. There was a slight click as something was locked into place. Polly could feel the electricity buzzing through it now, it raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. It was time to make this happen. She didn't know if Ruger was going to try to make it to the other side, but either way, she was going to make a grab for the vampire with the whip when he came into sight, preferable right around his face. The beautiful thing about her whip wasn't the obvious silver beads that would cause damage. The crystals were really UV lights, and they would fuck him up like a lash of lightning upon impact.
She was poised to take a life.
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