Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
driven to drift
Star
- Joined
- Aug 4, 2013
Clutch, shift, gas.
A small smirk curled the corner of the driver's lips upward as the blow-off valve of the sizable turbocharger that peaked beneath the hood of the black MkIV Toyota Supra whistled. Eyes of a rich, deep amber darted down to glance at the speedometer to watch the glowing orange needle rise to sixty - then - seventy miles per hour. God, she needed this; she needed the freedom of her growling V6 barreling down a dark back road, windows down and playing with the wisps of curly black hair that escaped from the confines of her long braid. She settled back into the bolstered Alcantara Recaro seats, leisurely shifting into fourth gear as the little needle crept upward into the hundreds. She had long-since determined that these beautiful crafts of machinery were truly the best part of the modern day and age.
Her mind wandered as she steered the car around a long, arced left turn. Marissa had been forced to move once more, arriving in the town of…of…oh what the hell was the name of it, again? She had gone through and lived in so many hole-in-the-wall towns over the years that she barely paid attention to the names any longer. She had worked her way from Italy to Germany, and then eventually into Ireland and England, dancing her way around the various wars and skirmishes the best that she could. The sounds of battle were still a trigger for her and made her fangs ache and her blood lust rage against her self control. She had kept to smaller towns even then. Densely populated areas made her anxious and as the industrial era blossomed, the advance in technology and machinery had not helped. She would get restless if she stayed in one place for too long, not to mention the other dilemmas of her condition just made it easier to keep moving every so often. She had stayed in and around England until air travel had become the norm. By then, she mustered up her courage to take the tense eight hour flight to the United States to settle and explore there.
She had actually been loath to leave her previously comfortable home in Lilydale, New York. The psychic town - immediately aware of what she was and why she was lying low - had taken her in without question or fear, which was something she would never forget. However, the tourist industry had begun to treat the town as an attraction and the various visitors were starting to make her uneasy. This fueled her decision to move on with promises to return at some point down the line. She did plan to return as needed. It was a rather strange feeling to know that she had found a possible home to return to someday.
Marissa brushed the thought from her mind right along with the lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. She just couldn’t let time get away from her like she usually did. While she might not have looked a day over twenty-five, she was certainly well beyond the modest twenty-six years old she claimed to be. She had grown to perceive time as nothing but a blur after the first century or so.
She shook her head and let her right foot ease off of the throttle as the engine noise steadily declined right along with the needle of the speedometer. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, and the roads would, inevitably, begin to be populated by those making their way to work, school, and so on. That also meant that the police force would be much more active, not to mention the roads much less free to her reign. She downshifted with a dance of her feet as she slowed, falling into the flow of the appropriate speed limit with a little breathy sigh. The exercise in freedom had felt good and relieved her of some of the stress of her move and the opening of her garage. She had not given herself nearly enough time to explore, something she chided herself for often. Things had been quiet, though, and she had finally made the decision to wander into the wee hours of the morning.
With her driving style adjusted to that of normal traffic, she made her way through town and directed herself back into the neighborhood that was her new home. She was only renting the nondescript house, of course. No point in buying when her time in any one area was generally limited. She was expecting one final moving truck: a large delivery from the friends she had left behind that had insisted they contribute to her move. The thought brought a smile to her full lips as she pulled into the driveway, the garage door opening at the press of a button as she eased her vehicle into the cover of it. With the turn of a key, the engine was silenced, the car left securely in gear and then locked as she stepped from the garage and let it close behind her.
Her arms stretched lazily above her head and caused her white tank top to inch up above the waistband of her black shorts and give a peek of the smooth, toned pale flesh beneath. The suns rays were still low over the horizon and not yet flushing the grounds around her, contributing to the quiet of early morning. The newspaper, however, was already awaiting her at the end of the driveway, and so she traipsed down and stooped to pick it up...
...when she caught whiff of...something. Again.
She straightened and tensed, her eyes narrowing as associative neurons fired and connected the scent to a memory, one she had hoped to avoid for as long as possible. It was not overwhelming, the reason she had brushed it off the first time she had caught wind of it. But for it to persistently tickle her olfactory nerves when she least expected it? There had to be one somewhere, and the thought made her upper lip curl upward into a sneer.
Just fucking great. If she was lucky, they just might avoid each other for the duration of her stay. Too bad she was rarely so.
***
"Mariiiii~ c'mon out with us tonight, eh? I've got people to introduce you to!"
Marissa pinned her cellphone between her right shoulder and ear as she leaned over the engine bay and eased the dipstick back into the block of the 2JZ. "I never said I wouldn't," she laughed, her accent neutral after years of living under the radar. "I just needed a little time to tune up the Supra if I'm gonna actually be debuting at this race of yours."
The male on the other side of the line hooted. "Fuck yeah! Do you know where Isla Pandora is?"
Marissa straightened, pale brow furrowed as she scanned the map she'd been formulating in her head. "Is that the one off seventy-third and Russel?"
"Hell yeah it is! Take a cab and meet us at nine. We're gonna have to break you in the right way: you're gonna get sooo shit-faced."
Marissa's eyes rolled. Her becoming "shit-faced" was wishful thinking at best. "Whatever you say, Jack. I'll see you guys there." She cut off Jack's sing-song toned farewell with the touch of a button and then set her hands on her hips as she surveyed the resting vehicle in front of her. Being a vampire, she did, in fact, prefer the nightlife, though the notion that she would dissipate into dust in a little sunlight was preposterous. The hilarity of some of the vampire superstitions were endless. At any rate, she had a party to prepare for.
In just a few hours, the vampire stepped from a cab in a pair of tight-fitting, blue skinny jeans, black heeled ankle boots and a grey long-sleeved crop top. Agile hands tousled her loose tresses as she stepped up to the door and dug the necessary cover fee out of her pocket before crossing the threshold of the club. She supposed they were very much going for the "beach" theme; the dance floor was colored with reflective, marbleized blue tiles she presumed were to mimic the ocean, faux palm trees of various heights lined it and the various paths to a large, long bar on the east wall. The lighting was predominately in reds and blues as music pulsed from an array of speakers and throngs of people gathered to dance or around tables and booths. She slipped a hand into the front pocket of her jeans as she scanned the crowd, glad she had fed not-too long ago. There were a bit too many people gathered for her to have to worry about any temptations.
A familiar face tucked into a large circular booth near the bar caught her eye and she smirked as Jack's familiar blond head perked up when he made eye contact. Two hands flung up into the air to flag her down and she shook her head as she approached the group. So she must be social.
A small smirk curled the corner of the driver's lips upward as the blow-off valve of the sizable turbocharger that peaked beneath the hood of the black MkIV Toyota Supra whistled. Eyes of a rich, deep amber darted down to glance at the speedometer to watch the glowing orange needle rise to sixty - then - seventy miles per hour. God, she needed this; she needed the freedom of her growling V6 barreling down a dark back road, windows down and playing with the wisps of curly black hair that escaped from the confines of her long braid. She settled back into the bolstered Alcantara Recaro seats, leisurely shifting into fourth gear as the little needle crept upward into the hundreds. She had long-since determined that these beautiful crafts of machinery were truly the best part of the modern day and age.
Her mind wandered as she steered the car around a long, arced left turn. Marissa had been forced to move once more, arriving in the town of…of…oh what the hell was the name of it, again? She had gone through and lived in so many hole-in-the-wall towns over the years that she barely paid attention to the names any longer. She had worked her way from Italy to Germany, and then eventually into Ireland and England, dancing her way around the various wars and skirmishes the best that she could. The sounds of battle were still a trigger for her and made her fangs ache and her blood lust rage against her self control. She had kept to smaller towns even then. Densely populated areas made her anxious and as the industrial era blossomed, the advance in technology and machinery had not helped. She would get restless if she stayed in one place for too long, not to mention the other dilemmas of her condition just made it easier to keep moving every so often. She had stayed in and around England until air travel had become the norm. By then, she mustered up her courage to take the tense eight hour flight to the United States to settle and explore there.
She had actually been loath to leave her previously comfortable home in Lilydale, New York. The psychic town - immediately aware of what she was and why she was lying low - had taken her in without question or fear, which was something she would never forget. However, the tourist industry had begun to treat the town as an attraction and the various visitors were starting to make her uneasy. This fueled her decision to move on with promises to return at some point down the line. She did plan to return as needed. It was a rather strange feeling to know that she had found a possible home to return to someday.
Marissa brushed the thought from her mind right along with the lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. She just couldn’t let time get away from her like she usually did. While she might not have looked a day over twenty-five, she was certainly well beyond the modest twenty-six years old she claimed to be. She had grown to perceive time as nothing but a blur after the first century or so.
She shook her head and let her right foot ease off of the throttle as the engine noise steadily declined right along with the needle of the speedometer. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, and the roads would, inevitably, begin to be populated by those making their way to work, school, and so on. That also meant that the police force would be much more active, not to mention the roads much less free to her reign. She downshifted with a dance of her feet as she slowed, falling into the flow of the appropriate speed limit with a little breathy sigh. The exercise in freedom had felt good and relieved her of some of the stress of her move and the opening of her garage. She had not given herself nearly enough time to explore, something she chided herself for often. Things had been quiet, though, and she had finally made the decision to wander into the wee hours of the morning.
With her driving style adjusted to that of normal traffic, she made her way through town and directed herself back into the neighborhood that was her new home. She was only renting the nondescript house, of course. No point in buying when her time in any one area was generally limited. She was expecting one final moving truck: a large delivery from the friends she had left behind that had insisted they contribute to her move. The thought brought a smile to her full lips as she pulled into the driveway, the garage door opening at the press of a button as she eased her vehicle into the cover of it. With the turn of a key, the engine was silenced, the car left securely in gear and then locked as she stepped from the garage and let it close behind her.
Her arms stretched lazily above her head and caused her white tank top to inch up above the waistband of her black shorts and give a peek of the smooth, toned pale flesh beneath. The suns rays were still low over the horizon and not yet flushing the grounds around her, contributing to the quiet of early morning. The newspaper, however, was already awaiting her at the end of the driveway, and so she traipsed down and stooped to pick it up...
...when she caught whiff of...something. Again.
She straightened and tensed, her eyes narrowing as associative neurons fired and connected the scent to a memory, one she had hoped to avoid for as long as possible. It was not overwhelming, the reason she had brushed it off the first time she had caught wind of it. But for it to persistently tickle her olfactory nerves when she least expected it? There had to be one somewhere, and the thought made her upper lip curl upward into a sneer.
Just fucking great. If she was lucky, they just might avoid each other for the duration of her stay. Too bad she was rarely so.
***
"Mariiiii~ c'mon out with us tonight, eh? I've got people to introduce you to!"
Marissa pinned her cellphone between her right shoulder and ear as she leaned over the engine bay and eased the dipstick back into the block of the 2JZ. "I never said I wouldn't," she laughed, her accent neutral after years of living under the radar. "I just needed a little time to tune up the Supra if I'm gonna actually be debuting at this race of yours."
The male on the other side of the line hooted. "Fuck yeah! Do you know where Isla Pandora is?"
Marissa straightened, pale brow furrowed as she scanned the map she'd been formulating in her head. "Is that the one off seventy-third and Russel?"
"Hell yeah it is! Take a cab and meet us at nine. We're gonna have to break you in the right way: you're gonna get sooo shit-faced."
Marissa's eyes rolled. Her becoming "shit-faced" was wishful thinking at best. "Whatever you say, Jack. I'll see you guys there." She cut off Jack's sing-song toned farewell with the touch of a button and then set her hands on her hips as she surveyed the resting vehicle in front of her. Being a vampire, she did, in fact, prefer the nightlife, though the notion that she would dissipate into dust in a little sunlight was preposterous. The hilarity of some of the vampire superstitions were endless. At any rate, she had a party to prepare for.
In just a few hours, the vampire stepped from a cab in a pair of tight-fitting, blue skinny jeans, black heeled ankle boots and a grey long-sleeved crop top. Agile hands tousled her loose tresses as she stepped up to the door and dug the necessary cover fee out of her pocket before crossing the threshold of the club. She supposed they were very much going for the "beach" theme; the dance floor was colored with reflective, marbleized blue tiles she presumed were to mimic the ocean, faux palm trees of various heights lined it and the various paths to a large, long bar on the east wall. The lighting was predominately in reds and blues as music pulsed from an array of speakers and throngs of people gathered to dance or around tables and booths. She slipped a hand into the front pocket of her jeans as she scanned the crowd, glad she had fed not-too long ago. There were a bit too many people gathered for her to have to worry about any temptations.
A familiar face tucked into a large circular booth near the bar caught her eye and she smirked as Jack's familiar blond head perked up when he made eye contact. Two hands flung up into the air to flag her down and she shook her head as she approached the group. So she must be social.
