[Sodium_noir] Hell - That's Other People, Right?

[Jennie Teakle]

Sinclair Party
Cloakroom

Sandra, Christine
Bastet, Mage


> [Christine]
> "Christine," says Christine but this time, she doesn't offer a  
> beautiful stranger her hand to shake, "and thankyou for  
> interrupting an . . . an awkward conversation back then." Christine  
> breaks off, her gaze searching the other woman's with sudden, sharp  
> anxiety. "There was another woman in here with me - wasn't there?"
>
> [Sandra]
> "You mean Blonde, Leggie, Freaky Pasty White? Temperature dropped  
> about 20 degrees while she was in the room? That particular 'other  
> woman'?" she asks gesturing towards the cloakroom exit with her  
> hand. "No, you weren't hallucinating. And judging from your  
> reaction, it's someone you would have rather never seen again."

[Christine]
While Christine is unspeakably relieved to discover that she can  
still tell the difference between reality and visions, the news that  
Camille Carlton really is alive and kicking about Gotham City isn't  
good. Might she have been mistaken? A frown creases Christine's  
forehead, her eyes full of worry. Mrs Carlton - former client of  
Mara's, wife of influential Seattle stockbroker, Jerry Carlton,  
supposedly murdered by her abusive asshole of a husband two years  
ago. Christine recalls Camille Carlton's face clearly - it is one  
that has surfaced in her nightmares more than once - guilt dreams  
mostly. Christine remembers sounding off unforgiveably at the  
pathetic and bruised socialite sitting in Mara's office, railing at  
her for being such a victim . . .  It should have cost Christine her  
job, especially once the headlines about Mrs Carlton's murder hit the  
stands. *

Christine is certain that the woman she just saw is the same Camille  
whose body had been found then taken from the morgue. At the time,  
she - along with everyone else - had assumed that bit of skulduggery  
had been down to chief suspect, Jerry Carlton pulling strings. No  
body, no case against him.

Christine lifts her fingertips to her lips. Camille's fingers had  
been cold as winter. Christine has felt a touch as icy as that  
before. Mara. Her vampire ex-lover. Oh, my god. Suddenly, a whole lot  
of things make more sense. Christine's horror flares into her  
expressive eyes. Mara. Surely she hadn't known that Camille Carlton  
was - is - a vampire all along? Surely she can't have - wouldn't have  
let Christine go on thinking that . . . feeling guilty and . . .


>  [Sandra]
> Judging from the woman's demeanor when she asked, this poor girl  
> wasn't drinking to have fun. She was doing her damnedest to keep  
> from feeling bad. That was never a good sign. "Sandra," she says  
> introducing herself. "I'm sorry it's not under better circumstances."
>
> Sandra kneels on one knee next to the distraught woman. "It's ok,"  
> she says in a quiet, comforting tone resting a warm hand on her arm  
> seeing she was doing all she could to hold herself together. "I  
> won't leave you alone. Just take it easy for few."
>
> Sandra looks behind her at the cloakroom exit both to see if the  
> Ice Queen was gone or if anyone else was looking for her. "Speaking  
> of being alone, did you arrive by yourself or are you with someone?"


[Christine]
Christine drags herself back into the present. She stares blankly at  
Sandra.

"What? Er . . . yes. A friend - Jack Emerson. He's . . ."

Christine halts. She'd had to make a hasty exit from the verandah,  
leaving Jack with that enigmatic Frenchwoman, Simone. Shame floods  
through her. What must they have thought? But she'd had to get away -  
it had been that or throw up all over their shoes. Christine's social  
etiquette may be far from refined but there are some things that not  
even she can face having to live down.

"I need to find him . . . and I also want to find someone else here  
at the party. Urgently!"

Actually, that's not true. Most of all? Christine just wants to get  
the hell out of this ghastly place. But before she does, she really  
has to talk to Mara.

Christine stands up hastily - bad move, given her condition. The room  
swims sickeningly and she is forced to grab wall for a second until  
her head clears. A few deep breaths and she's on the move again. She  
all but trips over Jack as she exits the cloakroom.

"Hey," she glances around distractedly. "Where's Simone?" Christine  
shakes her head. "Never mind. Something I got to do. Then let's  
split." There's a desperate edge to her voice. "Can't take this place  
anymore."


Tag Sandra & Jack


OOC: * The story of Camille Carlton's murder can be found in The  
Seattle Connection Thread from way back ;-)









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