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To Bite the Grit (Qedesha and Unheralded WoD setting)

Q

Qedesha

Super-Earth
Joined
Mar 29, 2010
It was a dark world, these days. It seemed to rain more. Luxuries were more expensive, crime more common, the streets dirtier, the deaths more unpleasant, life harder and meaner and more violent.

This room seemed to be a strong example of the new world. Peeling wallpaper, grime and a bare mattress, tattered condom wrappers and suspicious stains on the sheets. It's a hard place to wake up, especially when memories of how one got there are vague.

A memory of a bite on the neck, sore for a second, and then blissful. Memories of sweaty, smooth bodies... or was that from before? A fever, like a fire inside, and strange voices. A door crashing open, the grunts and thuds of a struggle, and then a scream and the hiss of a sudden, furious fire.

And now... an awakening into darkness, the room dim but still somehow bright, and the distant scream and clatter of a train thundering past.
 
Cici rubbed her head, moaning lightly at the headache. Okay. Think. Cute girl, kinda pale. Wanted to get it on. She wasn't waking up in a tub full of ice, that was good. No new scars that she could find. Wallet still there, backpack still there with her paint and markers, her gun still on the bedside table. First clothes, then delicious coffee to make this splitting, head-pounding pain go away, then finding out what the hell's going on.


Standing up, she was still a bit wobbly, but steady enough to dress herself. She'd decided to forgo any undergarments tonight, instead going with a pair of tight jeans, a plain t-shirt, her boots, and her hoodie. She wasn't even going to ask why the hell there was a pile of ash on the bed. Usually better not to ask those sorts of questions. "Suddenly casual sex doesn't seem like a good idea. Christ almighty, did I get roofied?" she said aloud to herself, finishing getting dressed by putting on her holster.
 
As an art student she'd no doubt know hunger... the nagging stomach after an all-nighter spent on an enthralling project, or the ravenous desire to eat everything in the fridge after a night of joints and laughter. This was nothing like either... a combined hunger and thirst that burned in her chest, made her mouth feel dry and made her edgy and faintly irritable. Her mouth felt strange as well... the canines felt longer, but somehow still didn't get in the way.

While the taste of coffee was still tempting, it wasn't the burning, need-caffeine-now drive it used to be in the morning. There was faint coppery taste in her mouth as well, not as vile as it used to be when she bit her cheek or her tongue... it was almost... pleasant.

There was a faint giggle, and the broken down chair in the corner had a girl in it all of a sudden. Early twenties, pretty and pale but still somehow vaguely feral, with wild hair and eyes that were both hypnotic and intense. It wasn't the girl from last night, that was for sure... no beautiful posing, no careful styling, this girl would look more at home in a bar fight or on the back of a motorbike... or, for some strange reason, running through a forest.

"Hello," she said comfortably. "Sleep well."
Cici would be able to swear that she wasn't in the chair a second ago.
 
At the end of 'well', Cici's gun was in her hand and leveled at center mass on the girl in the chair with what felt like supernatural speed. Strange, pale, wild-looking women were usually tweakers, in her experience, and tweakers were usually violent, angry, and looking for money for their next fix. "I've dropped people before, don't think I won't drop you," she rather obviously lied. She'd dropped people, sure. In the sense that she'd hit them with some found piece of debris in an alleyway and run away as fast as her feet would carry her. Of course, she had it in her to use the gun to defend herself, she thought at least.

"Who are you, and where am I?" she asked, putting up a tough front as she slowly edged toward the door. Something gnawed at the edges of her mind, though. For being a tweaker, she certainly was sexy... very, very sexy. Still a possible danger, though. She had to get out of here, and soon.
 
The girl seemed completely unconcerned with the gun. She didn't even look at it, instead continuing to stare into Cici's eyes.
"I'm Sandra. You can call me Furball, if you want," She smiled, still talking comfortably, as if it was a gentle chat.
"You're in a motel room down near the dockyards. If you want to glorify this place with the title 'motel', that is."

She glanced at the door, tilting her head.
"The door is locked, and I have the key. I'll give it to you in a moment, but first I suggest putting the peashooter away, taking a seat, and listening up. Your life, as you know it, has changed. Last night was rather apocalyptic for you. There are a whole bunch of mistakes now open for you to make, most of whom are more fatal than normal."

The stare into her eyes was practically challenging now.
 
The cops didn't respond to anything less than a dead body or case of arson at the dockyards, her shot probably wouldn't even wake anyone. She was facing down an insane person. There wasn't a jury in the world that would convict her. Yet she decided to lower her gun. "The 'peashooter' stays out, thanks, and I'd much rather stand. If this is some kind of cult recruitment I'm taking the key off your corpse and getting out of here. That being said, feel free to explain what the hell you're talking about."

She stood near the door, antsy. Should'a bought that short shotgun when she had the chance, and she was cursing herself for not doing so now. Buckshot would stop PCP or whatever new drug might be in this lady's system. She'd go speak to Carl later and take him up on that offer. Absentmindedly, she felt one of her canines with her thumb, and her eyes widened.
 
The girl had quick eyes, catching the little motion as well as the widening of Cici's eyes. Her lips quirked in a quick smile.
"Trust me, cults are the least of your problems... depending on how you define cults, that is."
She held out her hand, opening it. The key to the door dropped on the floor.
"I don't like keeping people caged. You can go if you want. Fair warning, though... there are three rather unpleasant gentlemen waiting outside to keep an eye on you. There are a bunch of rules that you need to obey, which will be tricky since you don't know what they are. Breaching one of them will result in you having your head cut off, ending up like your sire, there in your bed."
She indicated the long, vaguely human-length pile of ash.

"Or you can sit, put your feet up, and listen to me for a little while. Choice is yours."
 
"I'm doing the closest equivalent of sitting you're gonna be getting without kicking my knees in, lady, and I'll pop all three of them if they touch me as well. As I said, I'm listening," she said wearily, waiting for the woman to speak.

This was a ploy or something. She'd go for the key and get stabbed through the throat or shot. She'd let the woman give her little speech, whatever it was. Her rational self continued to work at beating down that niggling feeling worming around in her thoughts. For calling herself Furball, she was sexy as hell. Cici mentally chastised herself at the sudden mental flash of the two intertwined on the old, ratty mattress in the room, their nude bodies grinding against each other. So damn good-looking... she had better control than this, she thought.
 
The girl smiled again, seemingly at some personal joke.
"You thirsty?" she asked instead. "Got a bit of a craving there? Kinda burns, doesn't it. Like a fire, on the inside of your ribs. Makes you feel angry, like you're pissed off at the world. Like you wanna bite someone."

She grinned, then abruptly stood up. Her movement, even though it was quick, was sinuous, an almost hypnotic grace.
"You know, a lot of the rest of this argument might be sped up if I show you something. It just... it costs me, and if you get jumpy and put a couple holes in me that'll also cost me, and I havn't fed yet tonight, so... I'd appreciate it if you kept your cool. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay?"
 
The way she described the feeling was perfect. It wasn't any sort of drug she knew of, either. "I... look. I don't know what the hell is going on, or why I've suddenly got these in my mouth, or what you're talking about. I'm gonna put my gun away, and I'm gonna let you show me whatever it is you're wanting to show me. If I detect so much as a hint of trouble, I'm gonna wreck you. Go ahead and show me," she said in an almost-defeated sounding tone as she holstered her gun.

Her brain was starting to put two and two together, and she didn't like what the result was. Fed. That flash of what looked like fangs in Sandra's mouth, nevermind what she had in hers. This weird hunger. That sort of thing was the stuff of fantasy, though, wasn't it?
 
"Thank you. You won't believe how much those hurt, even... well. You'll see."
She flashed a grin, infectious despite the weird situation and the somewhat predatory edge her angular face gave it, and then took up a somewhat theatrical stance in front of Cici before waved her arms vaguely.
"Nothing up my sleeves, tell the audience you've never met me before, etcetera etcetera... abracadabra."

Abruptly the girl's eyes flared a deep, distinct red. Her face was suddenly somehow more bestial... there was nothing that was obviously different, the mouth just seemed to open slightly more than natural, the sharp canines quite obvious, the eyes wider and looking wild even without the deep red glow in them.

Her hands were the most obvious change, other than the eyes. The fingers had almost elongated and the nails were now at least two inches long, and looked thicker and harder than before. She flexed them, looking down at her own hands.

It was the sound that was the most disturbing. A deep, rumbling growl that echoed in the room. It spoke of primal caves, and the sudden death inside that plagued ancient man, a bass thunder that crawled right up the spine and tugged on the hindbrain. It took a moment to realise that it came from the girl.
 
Cici stared a moment at the woman, dumbfounded. So maybe this wasn't fantasy, after all. "Oh FUCK that!" Her pistol flew from its holster, her power unknowingly making her move quicker than she ever could before now, and a volley of lead erupted from it, shattering the window before she jumped through the remaining glass. So maybe she was some kind of vampire thing now. Whatever that Furball woman was, she wasn't a vampire, vampires didn't turn in to things like that, and the mix of lacerations and blunt trauma from the fall would be preferable to whatever she had in store.

Rolling as she landed, her feet were already moving to take her away from here. She reloaded as she ran, slapping one of her hi-caps in to her gun. No, fuck this, fuck this entirely, in every orifice, with a large, spiked, bladed monstrosity of an execution-dildo. There had to be other vampires that could help her, right? She only had to find them. Who up until a few moments ago didn't exist as far as she knew. And had managed to hide themselves all these years.

Well, shit.
 
The nicks from the window didn't seem to hurt at all, the fall somehow felt shorter than it should, the impact was as light as if she'd jumped off her bed, and she seemed to have plenty of time to prepare the landing, rolling with a grace that a professional athlete would envy as glass cascaded around her.

She was in an alley. Evening lights flickered a welcome at both ends. She was quite aware that it was nighttime... seemed almost more aware than usual of the time, not in a sense of hours but in a very real sense of where the sun was. She could hear frighteningly well, as well... the individual tinkles of each piece of glass, the chatter of people passing unaware at the end of the alley, and the hiss of cars. The sounds, and the lights, and the cool air... it all seemed so beautiful, like the world was making a poem around her, almost entrancing, trying to calm her, make her simply stand and gaze at the beauty.

The distinct, pragmatic "Aw, fuck," of the girl she'd left behind broke the spell. Cici exploded into the milling crowd of the night-time area, the usual swarm of hookers, pimps, dealers and tourists that filled the dock-area roads. There were some askance glances at the gun in her hand, a few gasps and a squeal of shock from the nearest tourist, accompanied by a rapid widening of the circle around her... but not much more than that. In this area it took more than a waved gun to get a real response.
 
Cici knew better than to head home, they'd probably read her address from her ID. She still had her cash on her, though, and a quick call to Carl would net her a shotgun. He had an old, sawn-off double barreled twelve gauge that he'd been meaning to get rid of, and she had more than enough for it. Keeping her eyes lowered to preserve her night vision, she ran, far and fast. Once she'd finally gotten a safe-feeling distance away from the hotel, she stowed her pistol. Her feet kept going, though, right up until she stopped at a pay phone to call Carl. She'd meet him at their usual hangout and buy the gun, and then... she didn't know. If there were vampires, there had to be hunter types. That was how the stories all worked. She'd find one, give them the whole Blade spiel, offer to help in exchange for protection. Yeah, that'd work.

She ran swiftly to the parking lot of the local home improvement store. Same place they always met. Bastard had better have been serious about the gun.
 
Carl sounded a little odd on the phone... instead of his usual belligerent bluntness, he was rather constrained and quiet. He agreed to meet without much argument or swearing as well. Still, the guy had been known to go on some spectacular benders in the past, and be a bit wierd till the hangover wore off, so maybe it was just that.

The parking lot was, not entirely unexpected considering the hour, deserted. Actually, it was a little odd... there was normally a little group of biker types in one corner of the parking lot, intimidating although they never seemed to bother anyone. They weren't there now.

A car pulled into the parking lot, curving around with a throaty rumble. It wasn't Carl's smokey banger, but a sleek, dark muscle car. The door opened, 'Furball' stepping out to casually lean against the side.
"Where ya running to?" she called. "Got a place to go? Your apartment's been cleaned out by now. Friends all told you're dead. Which you are, by the way. Not sure if you'd picked up on that yet. Course you're still moving around, which makes you ahead of the game. Want to keep ahead of the game, I suggest you slow up and listen."
 
"Look, whatever the hell you are, I've got two more mags of jacketed hollowpoints here, not counting what I have in my gun. I'm a good shot. Even if they only sting, your face is gonna feel like you got a tattoo with a lead needle if you try anything like that again. I'll ram a fence post through your chest and stake you to the ground or something, don't think I won't. Whatever the hell you are, you aren't a vampire, vampires don't do that shit." Cici had taken a futile sort of cover behind a cart return, kneeling behind the metal bars, keeping the gun trained on Sandra as she spoke. She should've been shaking, both from the running and from fear. Why wasn't she shaking? Or breathing? Why wasn't the blood pounding in her ears?

"You have one, precisely one chance to very calmly, using words and only words, in plain English, without coming within five feet of me, explain what the fuck you are and what the fuck you're talking about. If you waste that chance, I am going to do my level best to send you back to hell and go find someone who can explain things in a rational way. Do we have a deal?" The fear in her voice was nigh palpable, as was the anger. The hate. The utter bile in her words. She'd never felt anger like this before, a bestial throbbing inside her head. The back of her thoughts dared Sandra to make a move. Any move. Any excuse to spill her blood and paint a pretty fucking picture on the lot with it.
 
"Well, at least you're listening. Okay, this is the concise edition, because for a range of reasons we don't have time. First, you're a vampire, as am I. Forget Hollywood and the novels, the real deal ain't quite like that. We come in different flavours... you can think of me as smoked bacon, and you're candy cupcake."
She paused for a moment to make sure the words had, if not sunk in, at least been listened to.

"Okay now, a little more complicated, so try keep up. There's a whole bunch of us, we're all over the place pulling strings, and we have rules. The rules are mostly there to keep the rest of the world finding out. Breaking the rules means that some big mean vamps pitch up and make you dead in a not very nice way. As well as anyone you revealed the truth to, which means you'll be taking innocents with you. Not a nice way to go."
She hesitated, then glanced around to make sure nobody was approaching.

"Thirdly, and this is important... vamp society is a lot of politics. You're caught up in the middle of it, as an example. You're very very close to breaking the rules right now, and you're on a fine line as it is. The big mean people are really itching to come over here the hard way at the moment... and they enjoy doing it, so I wouldn't give them any more excuse."

"Finally... and this is something you'll always want to keep on the front of your mind... you need a drink. I mean really need. It's the main reason for your existence from now on. If you don't, you go batshit mad and start attacking lamp posts and things, and a frenzying kindred... that's vampire to those in the know... is a bitch to take down quietly. So please... calm down, come with me, I'll buy you a drink... so to speak... and explain the details. Kay?"
 
Cici calmly listened to the words, keeping the gun leveled at Sandra as she spoke. The words, naught but a night ago, would've sounded like the ravings of a mad woman. Now? They were making sense. A sort of sense she wasn't yet comfortable with, far from it. But sense nonetheless. Quickly stowing the gun in her bag, Cici hopped the cart return and jogged for Sandra's car before sitting down in the passenger seat. "I'm a lot closer to rum cake than candy cupcake, and believe me when I say I'll slap the next person that calls me that with their own severed hand, but alright."

As Sandra pulled out, Cici began to pull things out of her bag, taking stock of all that she had. Her apartment had been 'cleaned out'. That usually meant robbery of some sort, and she didn't exactly expect people to be giving her a place to stay. She had a small set of lock picks that she normally used to get past fences, various and sundry graffiti supplies, her gun and spare magazines, and $25 in cash, not counting her bank account. Which, of course, she could no longer access due to being... well, dead. She could certainly rob a place with what she had, but that would only attract attention. Part of her seemed to instinctively realize that attracting attention would be, to put it lightly, an unintelligent idea.

"Okay. So. Tell me what rules I've violated so I can start looking for loopholes or people to put holes in." Cici looked uncomfortable still, but was slowly beginning to relax. Whatever the hell kind of thing Sandra was, she was actively trying to help her, so she couldn't be all bad, right?
 
Sandra drove like a lunatic. Wheels spinning, the powerful engine roaring, the car flicking around corners in a way that would have mortals faces against the windows. Cici, however, would have no problem balancing herself, the car seeming to move slower than it actually was, and her body responding easily to the demands of momentum.

Sandra's tendency to not look at the road as she drove, however, was less reassuring. She glanced at Cici, a rather curious look on her face for a moment, as if she was puzzling something out.
"Well, technically you havn't violated any yet, although it came close. Think of it this way... far as anyone knows, you're a ki... a mortal, which we call kine. We call ourselves kindred. Stupid old names, but they work as a sort of almost code. Leaping out of a second story window, running as fast as an olympic sprinter, or drinking someone's blood... all these things need to be done where nobody will see them. At least, nobody who's going to be alive to report them, you get me?"

She hauled the car around a hairpin bend. They seemed to be heading out of town.
"Remember, this is a world of security cameras, camera cellphones, and investigative reporting. More importantly it's a world with napalm, tanks and nukes. We're tough, we're not invulnerable, and there's six billion people who would be happy to see us burn, if they knew about us."

Another screeching turn. Suddenly there was bright neon light, and the car was pulling into what seemed to be some kind of nightclub. Pumping music filled the air, and there seemed to be people everywhere.
"This is a test," Sandra announced. "Go in there, find someone to drink, do so secretly. This is important... don't kill them. It messes you up mentally, leaves annoying dead bodies around, and can actually kill you if you're not careful. The bite, or the 'kiss' as they call it, brings pleasure and an empty head, so they won't remember. Lick the wounds, you'll close them up. Get going. People are watching, so don't fuck up."
 
Cici blinked, looking at the woman next to her. She waited for the 'haha, just joking, let's go' or some other sign of sarcasm, yet none came. The car door roughly slammed as she closed it, a string of bilingual curses escaping her mouth at a pace that would make a merchant marine blush with shame. So now she had to go fucking hunting to prove herself? Like this was some kind of initiation test or something? This was ten tons of grade A bullshit is what it was! It wasn't like she had much of a choice, though... and the smell. All that blood. She really was starting to get hungry.

Doing her best to blend in, Cici stood near the restrooms, waiting for a girl she wouldn't mind biting the neck of to walk in. Occasionally glancing up from her cell phone, she waited for what seemed like ages, silently judging everyone that went through the door. Probably rolling on something. Too anorexic, she'd probably end up killing her. Too skanky, blood-borne diseases sucked. Very obviously in the middle of a cocaine binge. ...There. This one would work. Some starry-eyed college student, and apparently the DD for her group, or at least not drunk enough to show it yet. Cici slipped in behind her, made sure the bathroom was empty, and hauled the girl in to a stall, shutting the door behind them and biting in to her neck with one smooth movement.

There had been some doubt in her mind about all this. Maybe it was just an elaborate prank. The taste of the girl's blood... oh, the taste. This was real. And it was good. She drank and drank, easily taking a good three pints worth before coming to her senses and licking the wounds closed. She felt alive now. The hunger was gone, that fog of hate in the back of her mind nowhere to be found. Gently sitting the girl down on the toilet, she strolled out, making sure she didn't have any blood visible on her before leaving the restroom and heading out to find Sandra. She'd even slipped $10 in to the girl's pocket for her trouble. Maybe she was candy cupcake after all, but really, who would give a shit?
 
Sandra abruptly appeared from the shadows behind her, in a corner Cici could have sworn was empty. Or perhaps not... had there been a flicker there, a hint in her mind that someone was there, a sort of sense before the girl appeared from her skillful skulking in the gloom? It was still a surprise, either way.

"Well well well, that was interesting," she commented. "Good selection, confident, while maintaining the masquerade. Very neat. I'm interested in your choice, though... pretty little thing. Perhaps I'll have to take you to my usual hangout next time. Doubt I'll get any attention with you around, though," she grinned.

She eyed her as they got back to the car.
"Hmm... how's that rush feeling? Intense, yes? Feel it flooding through you? Lifting you up, like a rocket made of velvet? Good, yes? Yeah, that's the stuff. Best feeling in the world, better than drugs, better than sex as a mortal. You gotta try fucking on it some time... makes your head explode, tell you what."

Car doors slammed around them, and they were back in the hotrod.
"Well. Night is young, things are moving right along. You wanna throw some more questions around, or should I take you to your new haven, courtesy of the Baron?"
 
Cici leaned back in the car, smiling, riding the rush. It was better than anything she'd ever had, that was certain. "I'm guessing a 'haven' is where I'm gonna be staying, then. Let's go there." Glancing over to get a better, un-fear-tainted look at Sandra, her figure caught her eye. She was rather fetching. Cici gazed out the window of the car, before turning and leaning closer to her.

"You know, you mentioned sex during this sort of high. If there isn't gonna be a welcoming party waiting for us at my new place, I'd love to be able to break it in properly..." she whispered, her lips scant inches from Sandra's ear. Unknowingly, her words slipped from her lips like a thread of liquid silver, sliding softly in to her companion's ear. Cici's emotions were already heightened, the one at the front of her mind being lust. She'd certainly like to see what was under that t-shirt, to taste what those jeans were hiding, and the tone of her voice showed it.

Her hand lightly slid up Sandra's thigh as she drove, fingertips caressing her with featherlike softness, slowly inching their way to her crotch, before stopping naught but a quarter of a centimeter away.
 
Sandra actually shuddered, the car wobbling a bit as she pulled out of the parking lot.
"Fucking toreador and those fucking silver tongues," she muttered under her breath, glancing at Cici's face a couple of times.
"Well, sure, keeping you under wraps for the rest of the night would probably be a good idea," she said, then looked resigned. "Goddamn I'm weak."

She certainly seemed to be squirming in the car seat as they drove, an actual flush in the pale arc of her cheeks. They pulled up in front of a tall building, dark grey gargoyles on the corners, expensive but relatively old. The car paused there for a moment, Sandra looking into the darkness, before she nodded to someone unseen and then curved the car around the corner. Exiting fast, she led the way to a discrete, unmarked side door, holding it open ironically.

A short corridor inside led to an elevator. She didn't push any buttons, the elevator opening as they approached, closing behind them, and then quietly trundling up two floors. The door was marked with '203' in black just above the door handle, which Sandra turned, entering and flicking on the light. There was a key on the table which she picked up and handed to Cici. The rest of the room was filled with boxes.

"Presto. Your new place, all your stuff, just waiting for your pretty hands to unpack. Cameras watched you all the way to your front door. Don't fuck with security, they're badasses."
She looked rather pleased with herself, leaning against the table coyly.
 
Cici smiled. She'd died and received an upgrade in lodging. Not bad, not bad at all. Not bothering to even touch the boxes, Cici pulled her shirt and hoodie off in unison before wrapping her arms around Sandra and softly kissing her, their chests pressed tightly together. "Mm, miss big tough vampire's blushing..." she whispered, kissing her neck and lightly pushing her back, sitting her on the table. Her hands found Sandra's breasts and cupped them softly, her fingers teasing her nipples through her shirt.

She smiled, gazing lustfully in to Sandra's eyes, before giving her a light shove to put her on her back and roughly pulling her jeans and panties down. Without giving her so much as a moment to complain, Cici's tongue plunged between Sandra's waiting lips, parting them as she licked deep inside her. With the blood still giving her a high, the taste was absolutely heavenly. She hungrily licked at her, plunging her tongue in and out of Sandra with quick, hard thrusts.

As her tongue worked her new companion over, she'd been stripping herself down the rest of the way. Her clothes in a pile below her, she knelt, bare as the day she was born, and continued to pleasure Sandra, moaning in to her.
 
Undeath had been kind to Sandra... flawless skin, large, firm breasts, full lips, smooth, womanly hips, all tied together with a toned, supple body. Impossible to tell if it was her new state, or simply Sandra's natural taste... the woman was practically sweet, hips melting up into Cici's face as her long legs hooked over her shoulders, strong hands entwining with her hair.

As much as she wanted to enjoy the view of the woman between her legs she couldn't keep her eyes open, squeezed shut with lustful pleasure as she gasped and arched back, the table rocking beneath her as she moaned out the rise in pleasure.

It didn't look, or feel, like the peak was going to take long. The prediction turned out to be true, Sandra's orgasmic cries filling the room. Tough attitude aside, it looked like the girl was easy to please, her graceful form slumping back against the wall, gently pushing Cici's head away from her suddenly hypersensitive center.

"Wow," she said breathlessly. "You really... know what you want."
 
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