| Subject: Polly's People |
Author:
Polly
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Date Posted: 10/15/13 7:08:25am
In reply to:
Ruger Moss
's message, "/|Kick It In the Sticks|\" on 10/14/13 10:43:22pm
Ruger had no idea what he'd done, of that Polly was certain. Stepping so close was all she needed to feel him, he could have no idea of what touching her could do. She knew it would have made him deeply uncomfortable, she could dare say it was as obvious as the stripes on a tiger. But it just didn't matter, there was nothing she could do. Her world narrowed to him so intensely, so clearly that she had no choice, but to understand him...than to feel exactly what he wanted to impart. She was absolutely entranced and that said something about a girl who was immune to the effects of a vampire's gaze.
"Now, you listen good here sweetheart, 'cause what I got to say is one of them life and death things," the rumble in his voice imprinted something electric that bloomed out of her control; it was so much more than just words with the touch of his finger. It was an overwhelming taste of agonizing failure and loss and anger. It was matched only by an insistent, earnest concern for her. But it didn't stop there. "You promise me you don't go after that critter on your own. You promise me that, Sugar, and this Tiger'll keep up til the end of the goddamn earth." Polly could count on one hand the number of things she believed with true certainty, but as soon as he voiced it she had to add his vow to the list. All the nuances she would lose sleep over as she remembered the worry in his cobalt eyes, everything she could perceive at all said that he was telling her the truth.
And without reservation, with an understanding brought on by this perception she could not fathom but had learned to trust, she spoke, "I promise I won't betray that trust." Simple. Complete. Openly honest.
His touch had been gentle, she felt the light drag of his rough skin and his fingertips pulled away. Polly felt like she could breath again when he set her free although she was still firmly rooted within his overwhelming presence of masculine concern. The smile on her face was lazy and pleased and she casually shifted her weight and gave herself a bit of space, "Well, Ruger, you should be more careful, I might just hold you to that," she teased with a wink. She was never going to hear the end of it from the boys, the audience within the van had been the furthest thing from her mind when Ruger decided to blow through her defenses with the innocent neutrality of a tornado. She finished peeling off her climbing claws and the black gloves underneath, having stopped when Ruger had demanded her attention with the sweetest words and the saddest eyes.
Some bruises decorated her arms and wrists, but there were no cuts to otherwise mar Polly's pale flesh. When Blue drew attention to her left hand, now bare of equipment, it was plain to see that she had in incredibly intricate tattoo of a finger-less glove. It was elegant and lacy, and so detailed that a mere glance would make one believe it were opaque fabric. It covered her hand entirely, stopping midway to the first knuckle of each finger and at the thinnest point of her wrist.
It was Blue that had the power to fully pull her away from Ruger, the dog was especially good at grounding her back into the world. Polly was very careful when she ran her left palm down his shoulders. It was clear she admired the intelligent creature, "Smart and handsome," she praised. Her answer to Ruger came smoothly, "Old injury. Flairs up when it's wet or mischief's afoot," she teased. No reason to put too fine a point on things. And there was enough of her that would set off a metal detector to back the statement up. "And you're probably right about that. I have a feeling no one's going to believe that sweet move I pulled at the end."
She caught his keys when he tossed them to her, but Polly couldn't help the quirked eyebrow and the somewhat devilish grin that crossed her face, "Well if you insist."
Apparently impatience had won out with the audience in the van. There was a short honk, and a loud thump, followed by and indignant holler. Polly's eyebrows went up at her attention flickered to the vehicle, still in her easy crouch by the dog.
When the doors opened the inside lights popped on and the three passengers became visible. Polly looked at Blue and shook her head, as if expecting the dog to sympathize with her about some unspoken exasperation. When she stood up again, she did so with a stretch and walked forward a bit to stand in between her old friends and the new.
The animated group exiting the van stole the show and probably explained some of the exasperation that slowly seeped into the lines of Polly's posture. They were not quiet. The first ones out were the two men in the front seat. Well, one had the look of a gristly old biker in his 50s, and the other was a skinny little shit that couldn't convince a clerk to sell him cigarettes. The third was clearly a nun, only her habit made of a dark grey material that shimmered in the poor light.
"Sister Eve? You're early..." Polly's voice was pleased as she eagerly stepped forward to embrace the taller woman. She was roughly in her forties and the smile she returned was filled with kindness. When her own hands pressed gently against Polly's back, the nun's own razor sharp claws glinted in the darkness. They were much different than Polly's, clearly made for rending flesh over gripping.
"Had a dream you got yourself into some trouble, Dearie," she chuckled. Whisper soft she added, "Or has trouble gotten into you?" Polly was one of the few who knew what an incredible flirt the woman before her was. The approval in Eve's tone was down right naughty.
"Jesus, woman," Polly laughed, "You must never get any damn sleep." She chose to completely ignore the other bit, best not to encourage her.
The nun didn't bat an eye at Polly's rough words, "I'll have time for sleep when I'm dead," she chuckled darkly.
The scrawny teen was bickering heatedly with the grizzled old man who'd been driving. They were unpacking a few things from the van, grabbing gear and what not. The old man had that look of ex-military about him, but his long iron hair had grown scraggly and unkempt in his age, brushing past his shoulders. Lines carved his face, but so did scars. There was a particularly wicked looking one that slashed diagonally across his whole face, falling over his right eye. If the eye-patch could be trusted that wound had been as gruesome as it looked in the shadowy light of the abandoned road.
The kid was all knees and elbows with big hands and bigger feet. He was clearly one of those nerdy hipster types caught in an awkward growth stage. He was suffering from an especially rough case of baby-face and his fluffy, duck down style hair was an ashy blonde. The thick black glasses didn't really hide the irritated look that flashed Ruger's way or the somewhat exasperatedly grouchy pout he leveled on Polly.
It hadn't taken more than a minute for them to draw towards Polly, curious eyes on the stranger at her back or the beast beside him. Polly turned and walked back to stand with Ruger, "Ruger, that's Leroy and Terrance, they're mine. This is Sister Eve, she...freelances."
The nun smiled, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. Leroy appraised Ruger with his good eye, sending him curt but polite nod of acknowledgment. The wistful look left Terrance's gaze only to be replaced by annoyance again as he flicked a peace sign in greeting to Ruger and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
"Hello, hello, and whose this handsome charmer?" Sister Eve's merry eyes rested on Blue. "Pleasure to meet you, my child," she greeted Ruger just as warmly. "Do you need a hand with those...?" she gestured to Ruger's bloodier bits. There was something almost tangible about the light behind her gaze. Something pure and wise, like a bit of nature weathered by the centuries.
Polly stepped back as Sister Eve came forward to introduce herself to Ruger. A beep in her ear signaled for her to check her phone. The other two vamps had met up and they were headed towards the wrong end of her tracker's range. As Polly felt the air pick up all around her, she knew they were all in for one hell of a ride. This was a warm front she could feel blowing in, it was going to hit the cold air trapped at the wall of the mountains; they were going to be caught in an unusually hellacious storm for this late in the season if they didn't hurry.
Her words cut off the others, "I want you three to head straight back to the house after this. Do not risk getting trapped out here, I don't want Jewels home alone if it get's rough," her eyes rested on Leroy, signalling who she considered in charge of their little trio. "If I get caught out with Ruger we'll find somewhere safe to hole up, but we gotta cut this short for now. I need my kit."
The three of them were used to following Polly's lead. Sister Eve stepped back, waggling her fingers in parting before stepping close to the fire escape. She would be in charge of erasing their non-physical footprints. Leroy and Terrance weren't too far behind, but Leroy passed off a familiar looking dufflebag on his way by. Polly had many bags of toys it seemed. The thing had to weigh nearly as much as she, it showed in her posture, but she didn't complain.
On the way Terrance paused and his hand flashed out to Polly's arm suddenly as he looked down at her, "You sure?" It very much seemed like there was a lot hanging of the end of that overly simple question.
Polly leveled her gaze at him, a smirk tugging at her lips, "Get your scrawny ass in there, you brat. I've got work to do." She was fond of the kid, but not in the way his eyes wanted her to be. And therein lied the exasperation that rolled off the both of them. He was just a harmless kid in her eyes and she didn't have it in her to be harsh with him. She pulled away, back towards Ruger and Blue as the wind picked up, "Seriously, get home and keep an eye on Jewels. You know how frightened she'll be if the power goes out." A look of realization crossed the teen's face as he glanced up and the roiling clouds in the sky. With a heavy sigh, he nodded his acquiescence and followed after the other two.
With that handled she turned towards Ruger, walking all the way up before stopping and rooting around in the heavy black bag. A look of satisfaction crossed her lips as she spotted what she needed and tugged it free. It was a very well stock first-air kit. "Now maybe if you ask nicely I'll share the good stuff with you," she taunted.
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