[Sodium_noir] flux of things to come

[concrete chaos]

Arkana
Brujah
Industrial District - Thursday before dawn


Undressed she sat draped in the darkness of her room, illuminated only
slightly with the red haze emmitted by the lava lamp sitting in the corner.
Drawing heavily on a joint, she forced the smoke to enter and exit her lungs
at long intervals. She has the lovely task of peeling the latex off of her
skin, and oh the words 'I like pleasure spiked with pain' seem to linger on
in her mind, like a banner of sorts, as she tears it away piece by piece,
each time her skin pulled and pinched.

As she peels, her mind wanders here and there, perhaps even everywhere. What
happened tonight, what will she do tomorrow, why does she have this
chilling sensation in her gut, and it's definately not from the fact that
she is what she is. Something is off, not right. Or something is about to
happen.

Her mind seethed with thoughts, she works through her options. Should she
call him, and appear vulnerable? The Brujah in her advises against this
course of action, and the woman in her shuts it out almost completely. No, I
will work through this until I possibly cannot do anything without some
help.

With the latex peeled off, well most of it at least, she puts her things
aside to clear up when night returns. Her body is already feeling heavy, and
she start to trudge her way to bed. Within minutes she is gone, her mind
tunneling deep into nothingness. Finally peace.

____________________________________________________________

Friday evening

She awakes to the slight sound of thudding overhead. Blank and almost
clueless, another dreamless sleep. That would be the drugs she thinks, the
thoughts take time to well up. A few seconds later and she has come to,
recognizing the sound to be Paz pacing upstairs. The soles of her feet make
contact with the cold floor, and she fishes around to find some clothes. She
pulls on very used looking grey jogging pants, and an oversized black
sweater and makes her way to head upstairs.

She picks up something from her desk, her fingers toy with a card, familiar
to her only in texture, staring at what she can presume to be initials CB &
ZB, but who's? She saunters over to a notice board, pins the card down and
draws a thick '?' beside it.

She paces, and picks up a nearby butterfly knife. Climbing the spiral
staircase that leads to the first floor she rotates the knife, toying with,
and finally closing it again.

Admring the craftsmanship on the handle, so intricately carved and beautiful
when closed concealed and so deadly, sharp and painful when uncovered. This
leads her to thoughts of acquiring some weaponry and about some much needed
focus and most importantly of the characters she has met so far, Raven comes
to mind and she smiles unknowingly. Then there was the lingering question of
the chanting she and Wire overheard that night.

Finally she makes it to the first floor, still clutching the concealed
butterfly knife in her hand she listens for other movement in the house and
finds Paz in what passes as a kitchen, seemingly wrecked from the previous
night, with red blotches covering most parts of porcelain skin from the
latex peeling, and most definately hung over. There's a sweet aroma of
coffee lingering around in the air, and Arkana inhales deeply, welcoming the
scent of something that used to have significance to her.

TBC


--
'I don't have low self-esteem, it's a mistake. I have low esteem for other
people'. - Daria
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://elsinore.net/pipermail/sodium_noir_elsinore.net/attachments/20060310/b49a4483/attachment.htm