8518/Hallowday (Not Hallowe'en)

Hallowday (Not Hallowe'en)
Date of Scene:	02 November 2021
Location:	Midtown
Synopsis:	Spider-Man meets up with a vampiress the night after Halloween. Better late than never?
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Blake Riviere

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Peter Parker has posed:
Well, it's official. Halloween was a bust.

He couldn't make it to Harry's party because of the shoggoth outbreak (confined to the Smallpox Hospital, thankfully) and he missed going out trick-or-treating with Kara to boot. So, here he was, occasionally snacking on the last of the leftover candy from the Parker house and keeping an eye out for trouble.

Last night was a good night for people in masks...except for him, natch. He couldn't even go to the party as Spider-Man. Too many poking him and risking the discovery of his gym-rat physique...

maybe Thanksgiving will be better.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Halloween had been wonderful, entertaining and charming... right up until that run-in with necromancy and a drunk warlock. She might have saved the day, cleaved through the zombies...but she hadn't exactly been able to do so cleanly and now her cute outfit of res and black gothic charm was caked in all sorts of stagnant ick, her hair was a mess and...

Yeah, the vampiress was less than impressed as she touched down of the rooftop of the hotel behind Peter...only to blink and turn around to face the man. Usually she would have smelt that altered blood sooner but...yeah.

"Happy Halloween Spider-Man...you look as if your night was more rewarding than mine."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey turned as he heard Blake's voice and...

"Wow." And, because this was a perfect time for it, Stupid Mouth followed with, "That looked like it HURT!"

Blake Riviere has posed:
"I am uninjured," Blake offers, a shift of her form and a frown as she crosses her arms at her bust, "and the others were undead of varying freshness. They likely would have eaten half the people in a city block. Unfortunately....they smelt quite poorly, and their blood is enough to make me sick."

Peter Parker has posed:
"Varying freshness...? Jeez, based on what I'm picking up, the range apparently tops out at 12-hour Decomp and bottoms out at Stuck in a Car Trunk...in the East River...for a Month...and Then Poked With a Stick." Spidey took a deep breath (through his mouth...and it didn't help much) and said soberly, "Got any other clothes? I think you're going to have to burn those. You'll never get the smell out of 'em..."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Graveyard's worth," Blake muses, closing her eyes for a moment before pointing a fingertip downwards. "I am staying in the hotel we are standing above, though I am needing a shower...and then to find myself some new clothing."

A moment, she closes her eyes with a sigh. "I liked this outfit."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey nods. "Sorry. Speaking as a total outsider who's already in a growing relationship, you did cut a very striking figure on those clothes. Even if the best thing you can do for them now is a Viking funeral." He paused. "I can get you a cake of Lava soap. Best thing out there for getting rid of smelly fluids. I speak from long experience."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A chuckle, the vampiress gives a little shrug of her shoulders. "Much appreciated," she nods before raising an eyebrow. "I wonder if I should ask when and how you found yourself covered in guts, but instead I will downstairs first. I will replace this when I can."

She turns, pushing the door open lightly before peeking inwards. "At least I live on the top floor, otherwise it would have been an akward trip through the lobby."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man chuckles. "Could have just said someone's bad idea of a Halloween prank got all over you. Believe me, I've seen some serious goings-on."

As he followed, he brought out the small plastic box marked HEAVY-DUTY CLEAN on it in masking tape. "I had to deal with an incursion from the one known as Shuma-Gorath. Elder God from Hyboria."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"An elder god?" she muses, shaking her head as she presses open the door to her suite and stepping inwards.

Her red shoes are set aside, her stockings peeled down in the hallway before she turns back towards the spider.

"The icky and slimy kind then?"

Peter Parker has posed:
"Yeah, they seldom come in any other ANNNNNND I'm turning around now."
Spidey does an abrupt about-face as the stockings go down. Because after stockings come over-garments, and then under-garments, and he does NOT want to attempt to ogle another woman.

"Yeah...uhm, there were about ten of the shoggoths. They were supposed to sacrifice some people to open a gate for something bigger and nastier. They didn't succeed, but five people made it home. They're going to need a TRUCKLOAD of therapy, but they made it home."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A step through the door to her bathroom and the door is mostly closed, open enough to converse but little more as they speak.

"It appears that All Hallows Eve...Halloween, gave a would-be necromancer plenty of power and they made the worst choice."

It wouldn't take her long, but the shower was very much appreciated.

"There is always another monster out there," she comments, the irony not lost on the vampiress.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man sighs. "I've pondered the idea of what drives men to delve into this sort of insanity. The only thing that makes sense was an example someone else had thought up, and it is as credible as anything else. If an ant walked over the motherboard of a computer, it would have no idea what it was, other than some parts were hot and some were cool. Now, imagine for a moment that the ant suddenly has the understanding of a human being. It knows that it is a motherboard, that it is part of a computer, and what the computer is capable of...and then suddenly it's an ant again. It remembers everything, but its current ant state makes it impossible to comprehend it or explain it to other ants...and that is what can drive it crazy."

Blake Riviere has posed:
With the door open as it was, steam seems to sweep out of the room...or at least, it seemed that way until that 'steam' swept out into the suite and then into the bedroom. A few moments later and Blake reappeared from the room, wrapped in a simpler 'sundress', although admittedly one in her usual black, her hair down and still wet as they spoke.

"You think higher knowledge and a sense of isolation leads then to become murderous? An expression of frustration?" Blake muses, moving toward her kitchenette while they converse. "Certainly possible. I have seen in my life plenty of those who gain power and immediately see those without as lesser. Playthings even..."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey shrugs. "A detective once told that it was okay if I didn't understand people like that. But if I ever started to...THAT was when I should start worrying."

Spidey leans against the counter. "Some of them are more like school shooters. Willing to destroy everything around them before destroying themselves. Or thinking entities who look at us like we look at ants will reward them for their help." He shook his head. "Boil it down, it's just selfishness."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"It is sad perhaps," the accented vampiress muses, "that you have had to learn this from what you do. Though I suppose it is just as sad how I have seen the insight of such men."

A shake of her head and she reaches behind her, drawing open the fridge. "Drink? I promise you, it is the minibar. I do not store blood in places curious housekeeping might find it."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey hmms. "Just water, thanks. I have a sizable chunk of patrol and I think I need water to keep it light."

He thinks for a moment, then says, "Does helping people fulfill you, Miss Riviere?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
"It does," she speaks, retrieving the bottle of water and holding it out to the hero and chuckling at her own immediate answer.

A tilt of her head, she bites her bottom lip. "It...makes me feel better, somewhere between atonement and purpose. Meaning to survival."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey takes the bottle and nods. "I was taught that every person had gifts. But it was up to us to use them wisely. I never expected any of my gifts to include sticking to walls and ceilings. But here I am." He paused for a moment. "I can't imagine what you went through...but at some point, you make a choice...and that choice, in turn, makes you."

He looks back to Blake, into those eyes that seemed almost violet. "It's not what you are that makes you a monster. It's what you DO."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"I like my life," Blake muses, a little shrug of her bared shoulders as they speak. "The life I lived hundreds of years ago was neither perfect nor horrible for the mostpart, but it would have always been brief. I'd likely have died to disease or in childbirth and be lucky to be a name in a history book."

Setting the kettle to boil as they speak, she continues with a gesture to herself. "I have seen the world grow, seen things once magic now become normal. I have met friends and even at least one to call family. And I have done wonderous things with what most would call a curse."

She laughs at that, meeting his gaze. "I might be a vampire, might call myself a monster in jest...but I haven't felt like a 'monster' for many years."

A beat, she turns to reach for a coffee mug as she continues speaking. "Believe it or not, I became a nurse in the 1800's, not that it was always called that. Tended and watched over the wounded during the American Civil war. Again in the great war..."

She turns, retrieving herself her coffee and begining to pour it into the mug.

"The second war...well, I became much more proactive, but it had been a long time since I'd seen evil like that."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man smirked as he lifted the mask to drink. "You should sell your story as historical fiction. It sounds a lot more riverting than my how-to book. Working title is 'Superheroing on $5 a Day."

Blake Riviere has posed:
She actually laughs at that, honest and genuine before shrugging her shoulders. "Would you believe I actually spoke to a young girl who was writing a book, gave her my story. It will be interesting to see what she makes of it. Besides," she grins and gestures to him, "With your skill in the costume you designed, perhaps Peter Parker missed his calling as a seamstress or in high fashion?"

The first sip of her drink taken, she closes her eyes with a smile. "Thank you for your time and your company. It is always nice talking with you Spider-man."