[Sodium_noir] Saturday Evening - Market Street

[Mara Ravenclaw]

1017 Market Street
Neon City
Mara, Christine
Brujah, Ex Ghoul

Christine is thrown off balance by the flattering, if casual,  
invitation to spend time with Mara and so, perversely, focuses on the  
point of contention. Rules?

"You're going with another *vampire*?"

Mara offers a tiny nod of her head.  

"Who? Wait! is it that guy - the super rich businessman with the tower? Crosby? The one you stayed over with that time?"

She nods again.  Christine always was a clever one.  
 Rules? Play nice?" Christine eyes Mara speculatively for a few seconds then hazards, " 'Yo fang dude, I'm your date's suck-buddy, how's your tower for bats' . . . would *not* be a good way to introduce myself to Mr Crosby, then?" Her eyebrows  
arch in impudent enquiry.

"Actually, that would be better than the truth. Mortals aren't supposed to know we exist, remember?"
 
>"No need to worry about my manners, my love. You're going to have to  
decorate Mr Crosby's arm by yourself." Christine indicates herself  
briefly, less than resplendent in yesterday's jeans and Placebo  
tshirt. "I don't have anything to wear to a high class party . . ."

Mara was about to remind her about her dress, the one she'd worn to several Seattle charity events when she sees Christine's expression change, and the color drain from her, as though one of her kind had drained her blood before her eyes.  She wanted to close the distance, ask if she was all right, but decides not to.    

>Even as she says it, she feels the ringing in her ears, like the air  
pressure - as well as the temperature - just dropped in her immediate  
vicinity. Christine shivers and glances round the small office,  
checking the shadows. Goosebumps prickle her forearms and the back of  
her neck. " . . . with me," she amends. "I'd have to get a lift to  
the Temple in China Town. To get changed." Christine smile is now a  
little pallid and sickly.

Mara arches a brow.  "China Town?  Dangerous territory for one of my sort.  All of Downtown is, actually."  Even so, she picks her evening bag up off the desk and takes her keys from it.  "Shall we go?"  
  
Chalk white and oh so frail
I see our TAG has gotten stale

"All that we see or seem, Is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allen Poe 



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