Stinkfist - Melissa & Anna

Godfucking cuntlicker's're squishing my lunch! Melissa thought in annoyance. For an instant she considered weighing in, but then rapidly dismissed the idea as being stupidly unworkable.

Instead she figured that the best defense was a discreet motherfucking exit stage left. She slipped a handing into her purse to don the brass knuckles in case somebody between her and out of there got stubborn about clearing out of her way. Then, using the fight as a cover she began to slipping quietly away toward the parking lot, hoping to find an unlocked door with somebody's keys left behind.

OOC: Tell me what if any kind of stealth roll I need to make to avoid being noticed by the angry mob currently committing racial and bike-related violence.

IC MELISSA: Ghetto Fabulous's name was Dawsin, and he knew all the ghetto fabulous lines to say that it was stereotypically frightening. He was doing a perfect job up until he leaned against one of the motorcycles, clearly paying no attention to anyone or anything but you. It was too late. Before you even noticed there was anyone nearby, someone wearing a black vest with the word "Prospect" on it yelled out the words, "Nigger get the fuck off the bike!"

And right about then was when shit hit the fan...

IC BOTH: The next few seconds were a blur. Ghetto Fabulous got jumped with a tire iron and a police baton. In the process of him getting his ass beat, he flew into one of the bikes, toppling it over. When that happened, somebody yelled out to get Fat Frank and Big Todd.

On the inside somebody near the door yelled out to Fat Frank that some Nigger knocked his bike over. It was loud enough to be heard. That set Frank, who was about two tables down from Anna and Jack, over the edge. You see, Fat Frank had been having a bad night. He'd lost four straight games of pool and was fighting with his old lady who caught him tipping the cocktail waitress a little too much. Mixing in the fact Fat Frank had a patch labeling him a "Sgt At Arms" along with too much alcohol might not have been necessary but it sure made the scene fun to watch.

Jack on the other hand chose to step back from the fifteen or so bikers who quickly rallied to to the ready, storming out the door and causing as much peace disturbing chaos as possible. "Anna, if we get caught in this, shit is going to go bad. What do you think about hitting the back and making a quick getaway?" It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't a good one either. It meant leaving your car here...

IC MELISSA: Back outside, two more bouncers tried to rush out and aid Ghetto Fabulous. One of them made the mistake of touching a vest though, and it sparked up another round of fists, making it a real parking lot brawl. More bikers were coming outside, but it didn't look like there was anymore security. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh doom on you...

Fuck it, Melissa thought. It's about time for me to fill up anyway.

But she figured she may as well play it out a little. She flicked her tongue suggestively all around the head of the lollipop. "Are you sure about that?" she asked Ghetto Fabulous, moving a little closer to him and letting the tips of her fingers slide along his upper thigh. "It's awfully noisy right here. Maybe if we went around back you could remember better. I'd be soooooooo grateful if you could..."

Anna smiled as the last ball sank into the pocket of the table. "Not bad, you must have been practising. but Jack, you need deoderant....and mouthwash before you could put me off my game." Her eyes twinkled "A shame we did not have a forfeit at stake, it would have been interesting to see what you would agree to. So how long do you plan on staying here? Another set?"

MELISSA: The guy watching things looked you up and down like you were a piece of candy. It was a short, skinny black guy in a ruffled suit with an old tie. He had ghetto fabulous sun glasses on and smelled like a Newport. The other guy was an old, tall, hippie looking white guy who wore the same kind of suit but no tie. He watched you and the other doorman while leaning against the railing. When you started describing Jack, Ghetto Fabulous's stride was broken as soon as Old Fart started laughing.

Old Fart took over. "Ha. Missy, you're funny. Jack ain't here, but I'm sure I can find yer daddy. Maybe yer mommy too."

ANNA: OOC: Continue as you would if Melissa wasn't a part of the picture and if Jack didn't know anything about her arrival.

Fucksticks, Melissa thought as she paid off the recent Armenian immigrant who'd sped her to her current location. If I'm gonna stay in LA, I gotta get my own fucking ride...

She knew at least part of her mood was thirst. Or hunger. Thunger? Is that even a word? she wondered.

In truth, it didn't really feel like either. Thirst and hunger at least tended to localize in the throat, or the stomach. Your throat felt dry. Your stomach growled. This was both and neither. It was more of a full-body ache, like a something an earthworm might feel when it slipped out of the warm, moist dirt and onto a hot, dry LA pavement. It was more pronounced right now since Melissa hadn't fed in a couple nights and she figured she'd need to soon.

She'd certainly had opportunity and she certainly didn't believe in depriving herself. But. But one promise she'd made herself was that she wouldn't allow anyone or anything to control her. That included other Kindred, other men and it also included her own anger and her own hunger. She'd rage out on somebody. And she'd feed, too. But at times and places of her choosing only.

However, there were at least some things that were out of her control and her apparent age was one of them. Edge had yanked her into being a Kindred while she was not quite fifteen and it showed. Her growth spurt hadn't really spurted. Her face held traces of a baby fat despite being a vampire. Her breasts were only half-grown. It was great for luring pervs but it sucked when you wanted to get into a bar.

Like Melissa did now.

She figured there were really two ways to place this, straight or fun. With straight she'd pull our her fake ID and just try to bluster through it. The other way, though... Melissa smiled slightly evilly as she flounced up to the bouncer guarding the door.

She was wearing pigtails with pink ribbons, and the white blouse with a checkered miniskirt that put one forcibly in mind of a schoolgirl - and a naughty one at that. A small lollipop she sucked on completed the ensemble.

"Um, excuse me," she said to that two in the silly, breathless little 'meloveyoulongtime' voice that the Johns just loved.

"Can you get my daddy for me? His name is Jack..." she said, giving them a description of Jack and his "date."

BUMP

ANNA:

You amaze even yourself sometimes. You were better at Air Hockey then you thought. It was a lot like pool once you figured it out. The hard part was judging the drifting nature of the puck. Once you had that down though, it was literally fun and games. Jack didn't take it especially easy (or hard) on you, but for the first two games you scored three points the next you scored five, then you beat him 7 - 6. But Jack returned to defeat you in the final game 7 - 6. You didn't even have to unzip anymore. But by then you were having just enough fun to not want to lose anymore, so the two of you moved to another game. And then another. And then another. And then halfway into another you got called for your table.

Surprisingly the place was thinning out as you got your table. At least half of them were empty within five minutes of you two getting yours. It goes without saying you creamed Jack. He didn't suck, but that didn't stop you from running the table or making a nice jump ball or even shooting with the cue behind your back (this allows you to shoot ambidextrously with your less dominant hand.) Then it just started getting late when...


MELISSA: You thought you had seen Jack. In fact, you were pretty sure that you seen Jack. You were on the corner of 101 and Denny next to the barber shop and across the street from the ice cream shop The creeps always thought young girls with ice cream were hot, so it really made business easy. Jack was riding shotgun with some hot Jap chick driving. The ride was a dark blue 57 Chevy Bel Air. It had dark purple fuzzy dice. You know this because it was the first time you'd actually seen anyone hanging fuzzy dice from the mirror. It's in the movies and stuff, but nobody ever does that in real life.

About two and a half hours later, you caught up to the car. It was parked at, of all places, a biker bar. Lucky's Bar and Grill. Good times, except they carded at the door and right now you were looking particularly young... What to do?

Coming Soon