3283/A Night to Remember

A Night to Remember
Date of Scene:	08 September 2020
Location:	A darkened park, late night NYC
Synopsis:	Nicole and Ariah share 'powerful' secrets when one is attacked by thirsty thugs after dark, kindness ensues after the rescue.
Cast of Characters:	Ariah Olivie, Nicole Adams

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Ariah Olivie has posed:
    It's late. The Good Room has closed for the night, and a certain white-haired woman has shown up several minutes and then some too late to see someone home, let alone sing again tonight. With everything going on, Ariah hadn't been able to hit the bar scene to share some chorus lines, let alone pay a visit to her new favorite bartender. She does manage to catch a member of kitchen staff on the way out, though, and finds out where her hard-working friend has gone.

    The witch furrows her brow and nods, in thanks, and sets off towards a certain apartment building not -terribly- far away, but with her not knowing the exact address and not quite able to really make the most of the GPS on her phone, she does her best with the sense of direction she's got! It has her winding down a street or two, an alley or three in vaguely the right direction, until she takes to a fire escape to get a better angle on things.

    Vampiric agility and strength mean her arms and legs can get her to the top of the building, fast and easy, and she makes for the edge of the roof, seeing if she can get a better idea of her destination and the environs surrounding them, not at all far from a park, visible from her perch. The night hunter has keen night vision, and gazes out over the city from her perch, expression blank and chilled, still clothed in skirt and corset top for a night out.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     Pride goeth before a fall, or so the old adage states. Nicole was very proud when it came to doing for herself, refusing even so much as a pittance for bus fare from her co-workers "I need the walk, trust me," she joked with them, patting her midsection. There wasn't a spare ounce of fat on her anywhere, but try telling her that!

     So it was that she found herself on the walk home to her apartment. The areas she had to pass through weren't the best, but perhaps she could cut through the park and save herself a few minutes. There hadn't been any -recent- reports of harm befalling women in that area, so surely it would be alright.

     Famous last words.

     About the time that Nicole reaches the center of the park, about five rather unsavory-looking characters, be-inked and wearing tatters of leather and denim in unsightly fashion decide she would make very nice comopany for the evening. Their leers were patently obvious as they advanced upon her, forcing her to back up. "Come on, gentlemen. Trust me, you don't want to do this!"

     One of them makes a grab for her arm to restrain her. As he does so, she attempts to pull away, crying out. "Let go of me!"

     Around her, rocks and bits of discarded glass begin to rattle, and float into the air, swirling slowly about her at first, but soon picking up speed.

     "What the..." There is a spate of cursing from Nicole's attacker. "She's a mutie freak!"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah presses her hands against the stack of bricks she's leaning against, supporting herself as she cranes her neck forward, scanning the skyline. She'd remembered the way the building looked, especially at night, since they'd parted ways there after work. Up on the roof, though, she's a little turned around, and takes a few long moments to get her bearings and pinpoint the apartment structure. She's not too far from it. There's a park not far off, either, just across the street and down some.

    She can hear a heartbeat through a wall, her senses are keen hunter's senses, even if they're not as well-developed as her sire's. But first the cry reaches her ears, and then the cursing, the louder battlecry. It's enough to allow her to focus her gaze down into the shaded boughs of the park and its open walkways. It takes her a moment to register not what she's seeing, but who. "...merde..." she hisses in her mother tongue, and darts back to the fire escape, hands gripping the edge railing, one at a time, letting go in a rapid descent only to grasp on the next to slow herself the minimum amount for a safe landing.

    And it's as safe a landing as she'll give, her boots hitting hard on the alley's pavement, before taking off in a dead sprint, focused on getting to the scene as fast as she can.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "Bitch!" yells the thug who had attempted to manhandle Nicole, the glass and rocks leaving criss-crossed lines of red all up and down his arm. He's quick to draw back, but the damage is done, and the scent of blood is in the air. The five surround her, circling, uncertain how to bring down their quarry... pardon, their company for the night.

     One of them has the bright idea to throw a rock at the girl's head, while she was distracted by their leader. It finds its mark, throwing her off-balance--but oddly enough, not knocking her out. The scent of Nicole's blood joins that already in the air for a few seconds, oddly fading away as if... healing? How could that be? The debris field around her wavers, slowing down as she stumbles from the attack.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The sound carries. It might not be enough to hit any open apartment windows, but Ariah's sensitive hearing can catch that outburst, the loud expletive spoken. She was at peak fresh-from-the-war performance when she was still human. Her body frozen in time as a vampire. Then as she rounds a corner past a facilites building, she can smell the blood. Unfmiliar. Strange. Tinged with unsavory things. But it's blood.

    The girl gets within sight to visually confirm what she'd been worried about, Nicole under attack. The harm to the thug might give her a moment of surprise, she hadn't known the bartender to be able to fight! But she has little time to really parse and unpack the floating debris when she sees that rock and smell its subsequent after-effects on her friend.

    If the heavy, rapid footfalls don't give her presence away, the feral snarl would. If anyone were truly a 'bitch', it would be Ariah, low in her rushing stance, eyes glowing a faint purple, and her fangs visible as she snarls. There's a bone-crunching impact as she shoulder-tackles the rock-thrower, four foot ten of tiny French woman having momemtum and supernatural strength on her side, offering no words just yet.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     Reflexively, as Ariah hurls herself at the thug attacking Nicole, the latter backs away. The debris field around her picks up the pace, whirling around her faster and faster in a glittering, dusty cloud of protection that follows her as she takes several steps back. At this range, it is likely Ariah might hear her heart thudding rapidly in her chest, spurred on by fight-or-flight. The thugs have the smell of unfulfilled, unsavory desires about them--as well as the sharp tang of fear.

     Oh, yes. They had good reason to worry, shifting their attention to the dimunitive Frenchwoman.

     "Come on, that one's ours!"

     Uh-oh....

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The thug beneath her is spared being flayed by the ground due to his leathers, and she's not exactly heavy enough to keep him pinned down. The impact to his chest, however, likely broke some ribs and caved in his sternum. The sound of labored breathing isn't Ariah's, that's for sure. In fact, the only sound is her granting him a blessed lights out, brutally smashing his forehead with her own in a whip-crack of a headbutt.

    Then she stands, rolling her shoulders, the woman almost glowing with her pale skin in the night, her white hair shadowing the silver glow in her eyes. "Mon petite hunters... non... she is mine..." she says evenly, tone cold and harsh. The swirling cloud of debris around Nicole, however, does earn a long sideways glance, and her straight expression turns into a deeper frown.

    Ariah isn't exactly being miss upbeat songstress or friend who walks you home right now. She's probably being a little bit scary. She gets it. She's lost friends in the last several decades for being a 'monster'. But she sighs, squares her stance, and stares down the four healthy, remaining grown men with her tiny self.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     When their compatriot does not get up again, the four thugs remaining show their true colors, in many a figurative shade of yellow. In simpler language, they turn tail and run, abandoning the fallen one to his fate. Apparently, honor among thieves or others of ill intent was a myth.

     It does not immediately dawn upon Nicole who it is that saved her, or that she is even safe to begin with. Once set loose, fear is difficult to regain control of. The debris field remains swirling around her, as she stares between Ariah and the fleeing forms of the cowardly attackers.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The man on the ground may wake up, eventually, and may even survive if he's slow and careful about it. Broken ribs and a fractured skull have a habit of causing internal injuries if not cared for. The tiny vampiress snarls one more time for good measure, the ghostly-looking female showing fangs and glowing eyes. Maybe the birth of a legend in the park. Depending on who would even spread the rumors.

    The glow in her eyes fades when she's sure they won't come back, and her fangs slip back into their hiding place. She turns to Nicole, taking a step closer to her and seeing if she can discern her condition. "...Nicole... are you hurt? I thought I smelled your blood.." she says quietly, icy, thickly accented voice still dripping with sincere concern. She doesn't step into the swirling debris field, though.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     It finally began to dawn on Nicole just who had saved her--and what she likely was. The debris field slows down at the somewhat familiar, accented cadence of the petite vampiress' words. Nodding once, she remains silent, her breath shaky as she struggles to regain control of her emotions. "T-thank you," she murmurs, little pieces of rock and glass starting to fall to the ground in a bizarre form of localized rain around Nicole.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    As the objects begin to fall, Ariah takes a knee. Both to show that she's not going to lunge at Nicole, and also to pick up a couple of the tiny rocks. "...impressive..." is the first thing she says, letting the stones roll out of her palm and onto the ground as she stands straight again.

    "You are welcome.. you are not hurt?" she asks again, stepping closer, taking it slow though, no sudden moves. She might be looking into Nicole's eyes but her senses are still focused on that heartbeat, gauging its response to her proximity as she closes in.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     Oddly enough, despite knowing now what Ariah was, the pace of Nicole's heartbeat continued to slow, glittering shards of glass now starting to fall. Even in the dim light, no mark can be seen on the bartender's head, nor does the scent of her blood linger in the air. "I'm tougher than I look," she begins, cautious. "And I heal fast. Very fast." The Frenchwoman's presence has an unusual calming effect upon her, each step closer slowing down the debris field further.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    There's more to Ariah than just the fangs though, she she lifts her arm towards the direction that the debris is drifting in, shielding her face with it. The faint glow of blue-white shines in that arm, much like she had shown off her magic at the bar that night. This time, it's to form a barrier to the shards of glass, not exactly wanting to get cut. It has the side effect of lighting them up, too, all those specks and pieces and chunks like shining, deadly glitter.

    "So I can see, mon cher..." she says gently, quietly. "Spectacular talents... had I not been here, I have a feeling those five would have still fared poorly. Still, I would have preferred to meet you sooner..."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "No, stop! You'll get hu..." Nicole has no time to try and warn Ariah further, as she seems intent upon walking in where angels fear to tread. The barrier does hold off the debris, more of it falling to the ground as the honey-haired woman calms still more. "And you called me impressive..."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    It would make sense, as Ariah is closer to demon than angel, and even should some rocks or glass shred her pale skin, the angry red lines would look good on her in contrast, healing up much as Nicole's had. "You are," she replies. "I cannot do this, not without so much light..." she gestures to the runes etched in her arm, glowing, the magic shell itself almost as bright as a streetlap here in the park. Only its glassy, transparent nature keeps it from being brighter than one of the flickering bulbs. "You use it to mix drinks quicker, flashier, non?" she asks, recalling the moments when she was watching her work that night, so intently, enjoying the music and her company.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "A little bit," Nicole confesses. "It's the only really safe way I can let that part of myself show." She lets out a deep sigh, the fight draining from her as Ariah finally draws near enough to reach out if she wanted. "I'm a mutant," she states flatly. "That asshole on the ground wasn't all wrong."

     Taking a deep breath, she lets this one out a little more slowly. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she gestures to the brightly glowing runes. "Those are really beautiful."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah is almost a full foot shorter than Nicole, and has to reach up to do so when she is within range. It's to rest a hand on the woman's cheek, chilled by the night air, its inner warmth not quite -right-. "And I am a monster," she replies, letting her fangs be seen again, for those few, brief words. She lowers her arm, both of them, and the energy starts to fade--until Nicole points out her runes.

    She channels energy back into them, lifting it between them, letting little wisps of blue-white energy spiral around her arm, leaving trails as ribbons. Beneath, those symbols, shining bright through her skin and muscle, as if they were etched in her bones. Which they are. They resemble Norse--or Asgardian--runes. "...oui? You think so?"

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "Oui, madmoiselle. Ils sont tres beaux." Hesitant at first, Nicole's curiosity overrides what should be a modicum of common sense. This was a -vampire-, for god's sake! A friendly one, but still a vampire! To them, one is not a friend, they are food!

     And yet, Ariah had never made a move to hurt her. Even now, she had protected Nicole, not raised a hand against her. Nicole reaches out, running her fingers through the ribbons of light, not quite touching the runes themselves. "That is amazing," she murmurs, smiling a little bit. "But it doesn't make you a monster."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The runes do seem to be under her skin, so even an errant brush over one won't do more than obscure it slightly. That arm is warm, though. The magic running through them, the wisps of energy she's making dance along her pale flesh. And that compliment, it makes her smile. A gentle, genuine smile. The same sort of joy when she's pouring out her heart on stage. She shakes her head, "Non, being a witch does not make me a monster. Being a vampire, however, does. I am reviled, hunted, and keep my secret as well as I can..." she closes her eyes, her hand on NIcole's cheek falling to her shoulder, then looks back up at the honey-blonde.

    "...not so different from you, non? You do not... feed on people... but nonetheless, you are reviled, hunted. For what? Being... different... and different you are. But it makes you unique and beautiful."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "I'm not hunted, because I hide what I am..." Stopped mid-sentence, Nicole just looks at Ariah, struck to silence. Had she just heard what she thought she did? Her cheeks color as she looks down at her friend, and finally, there is a real, if small smile, upon her own face. "Thank you. I've never had anybody call being a mutant beautiful."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "You should not have to hide, but I undestand why you do, and I hide as well," she says softly. Ariah blinks at the sudden silence, though, and her head tilts slightly to the side, a slightly sad expression forming on her features. "That is... a sadness. You are welcome. Oui, your abilities are beautiful, they set you apart. And you, mon cher, are also beatiful." She nods with a finality in her tone, as if she would allow no disputes of her words, and finally takes a step back, to give Nicole her space, letting her glow fade and her arms return to her sides.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     A light smile spreads across Nicole's face, her honeyed tresses rippling like a living waterfall as she shakes her head. "Je ne suis pas beau," she says, protesting despite the firmness of Ariah's words. "I think, though, we're going to be having this argument for a long time. And I will win." Had the gauntlet been thrown down? Perhaps it had! But it was in good humor, as she reached out to rest her hand briefly upon the petite huntress' shoulder.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah shakes her head, but smiles. "I hope that we are able to be together enough to continue that argument," she states. A roundabout way of saying she likes being around Nicole, perhaps. The hand on her shoulder is glanced at, and the shorter woman tilts her head to rest against it, brushing a night-chilled cheek against the other woman's skin. "If you would allow me, I wish to walk you home again. It was my intent to do so earlier, but I did not arrive at your establishment until some time after you had already departed."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     It was crazy. But given how the night had gone, Nicole was not inclined at this point to refuse the offer of a walk home. She nods, smiling lightly as she moves her hand away. "Yeah. Let's get out of here before someone comes by and starts asking too many questions. Or this asshole wakes up. Or both."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Knowing the luck of things, it would be both, oui," Ariah states, deadpan and calm all over again. She turns as the hand slips from her shoulder, looking across the park. "That is your building, if I remember?" she gestures with one hand, though seems to reach out to gently take Nicole's, giving, at the least, a gentle squeeze.