Raindrops. (Salem, Breeze?)

[roscoe]

Roscoe squinted through the fog. Her huge, slanted icy-blue eyes were no more than crescents of glowing aquamarine under half-closed eyelids; the rain didn't really care that having stinging drops of cold H20 flung into your eyes hurt, and continued to pour down upon the unfortunate (and now soaking wet) werewolf.

Gaaaaah, dammit dammit dammit dammit...

She turned a sharp corner, almost bumping right into a suited businessman who loomed out of the mist like a great black raven. Ros did a quick sidestep to avoid knocking him into a puddle and carried on down the road to the park.

The chipped metal gate squeaked as she kicked it open. She was wearing flipflops and the porous plastic was sodden; it squelched out a regular rythm as Roscoe ran to the nearest tree and crouched under it, trying to get a little shelter.
Man... Just when you thought the rainy season was finally over...

[breezetavern]

Breeze crossed her arms, as if she could block the rain from soaking her clothes, which, let's face it, were pretty much soaked. Her long leather coat was slick with water, her long black hair now matted to her head and dripping off her pale face.

My kingdom for a car . . .

Not that she could drive. She'd never bothered to learn and it's not as if she were about to walk into the DMV for a license. She could see it now: NAME: TAVERN, BREEZE. D.O.B: FEBRUARY 19, 1748 . . .

She decided to take a shortcut through the park, as it was quicker to get to the hotel she stayed at. She was walking at a decent speed when she stopped her her tracks, smelling the air.

What . . . IS that?

[darky]

(Sorry didn't see the thread)
Salem wasn't even sure why he'd come here. He needed to get away from England awhile and he knew the city well but he didn't even have anything to do here and everyone he'd had here was dead or dying. And he was not going to spend his time in the hospice. He had come back from the graveyard and payed his respects to old friends and was feeling a bit sad right then as he'd just heard of a close friend who had died.

Salem held and umbrella over his head and again asked himself why he'd come here. it was a long time ago, but still the memories stayed with him, his eternal ever young self left to carry the memories of all those been. The person who had died had been close, and the last of those in his genoration that he knew. he was now finally alone.

He let the umbrella lower in his hand and let the rain fall over his cold dead body and couldn't help thinking he belonged in the ground with all the rest. Shaking his head to shake the rain out of his hair a bit he went and sat under a large tree, his clothes sticking to him and to caught up in his own thoughts to even notice the wolf next to him.

When he did notice Roscoe he gave her a small smile
"Please I'm not interested in a fight right now, I have no quarrel with you" he said softly, his accent still English from his time there, he glanced at the umbrella he had givin up using and sighed before standing up and fixing it along some branches, though keeping the dog in sight encase it did wish to fight him. Once he'd managed to get the umbrella into a spot safe from falling he smiled at Roscoe "There you can stay under it, it's not much use to me now"
Salem said it all gently before glancing down at his wet self to indicate to the Werewolf what he'd meant before he sat a little away from the dog on the wet ground again not even realizing for a few moments that he was crying not really caring if the werewolf attacked him right then, knowing it was probably bad judgement on his part but he always was a little childish in his ways and wasn't up for picking a fight let alone holding one down, even so he was even less inclined to let the creature scaring him out of remaining there.

[roscoe]

((that's okay mah wolfie take out frustration on you now!
xD actually, it's just to have a dramatic start, especially with Breeze not being a fan of weres, meh thinks. *headdesk* Ok, I'll stop with the babyspeak now.))

Roscoe immediately felt a little claustrophobic. TWO vampires entering the park? On edge, she tried to follow their movement by scent, seeing as the fog had impaired her sight slightly. One was coming up behind her; the other had just come in through the gate...

Oh crap.

As the closest one loomed out of the mist, she almost leapt at its throat in surprise. The vampire, seemingly totally oblivious, didn't even flinch; he moved under the tree and slumped down, eyes melancholy.

Roscoe paused, still balanced on her toes, watching the guy suspiciously. What the heck... Is this some kind of trick? "Please, I'm not interested in a fight right now, I have no quarrel with you." Roscoe, still poised, was now slack-jawed.
He wasn't going to do anything. At all. He was just going to sit there under a tree with her and... hang an umbrella in the branches? The wolf watched intently as Salem put up the umbrella and sat down.
"There, you can stay under it, it's not much use to me now."
There was something fishy about this; maybe he was the bait and as she relaxed the other bloodsucker would come up behind her and slit her throat or something. It wouldn't be the first time they'd tried. She resisted both the urge to sit under the umbrella and the urge to return his smile; maybe later...

The wolf swore under her breath and changed her forearm. It was painful, that was for sure; white fur erupted across her brown skin and black claws pushed their way through that same epidermis on her fingertips. Little droplets of blood ran down her hand and were absorbed by the downy pelt, splashes of ruby against the blinding alabaster. Backing up against the tree trunk, she held three claws against the vampire's neck and hissed “If you're genuine then thanks. But if you're not...”

She was being unreasonable, she knew. But she was also cold, wet, hungry and irritated at these sudden displays of kindness from random vampires. That wasn't how the world worked, was it?

[breezetavern]

Breeze stood stark still, the fog rolling around her like some horrible 80's music video. She listened. Voices. Bickering? She wasn't sure. She focused her senses, made her vampire eyes see clearer through the fog, smelling the air through the cleansing rain.

Her eyes widened.

WEREWOLF!

Breeze let out a hiss and crouched into a fighting stance. Where was it? Did it matter? She should run. Book it now before she had a fight on her hand. But there was something else there.

Vampire?

Yes. She was sure of it. Her run-in with vampires in New York made her more familiar with their scent again. She walked through the fog toward the scent . . .

. . . and saw the werewolf claws at the vampire's throat.

She wasn't quite sure what came over her then. She rushed forward with another unearthly kiss and kicked the werewolf like some superhero. A very pale, soaking wet, probably crazy, walking corpse superhero. The kick wasn't enough to really injure her, just to get her claws away from the guy. "Back off!"

[darky]

Salem tensed as he felt the claws at his throat in truth he'd been expecting it to get bored and go away, but alas it didn't. He'd been warned about them and now he was going to lose his throat to one. Though it was unlikely it would kill him it wouldn't be pleasant. He reached for his gun and almost shot the creature when the creture went sprawling.

Salem jumped to his feet bewildered and stood a little behind the vampire who had helped him. It took a moment before he came to his senses and looked at the wolf. His eyes gleamed as the scent of blood almost sent him running off to kill any human in sight, yet it was only wolfs blood so he held no such lust.
"I-I don't..." he muttered tears still on his cheeks his voice broken. He wiped at his eyes and looked at the Vampire who had helped him forcing a smile "Thank you...I need to be more careful" he said softly but felt awkward there, he knew he wasn't on top form and wasn't sure if he should shoot the wolf right there, he'd only seen one werewolf before and didn't hang around to find out if it was friendly or not so he hadn't really expected the instant hostality
"Should we be running or something?" he asked the vampire nervously his voice cracked and threatening to break again

[roscoe]

One second the vampire was standing some distance away, and the next it was leaping at her with one booted foot aimed at her side. Roscoe just had time to cover her hip with her arm defensively before aforementioned boot connected.
Aaaaah, dammit! Roscoe hit the ground with a bone-juddering thump before rolling Mission Impossible style to avoid breaking anything. She got up...

On four paws. The shock had made her lose control of the wolf for a second and it had taken over.
Heck yeah, you know what, this is just great. I need to at least be able to think. Roscoe snarled, baring sharp white teeth, as she tried to suppress the lupine presence. It refused to oblige, instead practically strangling her mind as it made its meaning clear. Attack now! The guy's got a gun, it stinks of metal round here, hadn't you noticed, you silly bitch? You always do that, you let people get too close before checking what weapons they have! If I wasn't around you'd just be another body on the street.
“Ugh.” The wolf was right. Roscoe took a deep sniff of icy air, trying to find out more. Nobody carried silver bullets these days, right? Werewolves had all but disappeared from the streets, stumbling upon one had to be as rare as stumbling upon an animal-drinking vampire, and that was pretty damn rare. Roscoe didn't think anybody still carried protection. So, was he or wasn't he carrying silver? The overpowering stench of alloy and gunpowder masked any give-away scents. Roscoe gave a muffled growl of annoyance; that was when she heard Salem speak. “Should we be running or something?”

She almost gave up there and then. The guy sounded like he just wanted someone to love him, befriend him, or comfort him; certainly not attack him and try to tear him to pieces. The other vampire, bedraggled yet pretty (and with killer boots) was probably the perfect companion.
Inside Roscoe a furious war was being waged. The wolf was itching to put its teeth to good use and at the very least punch the parasites which showed it constant prejudice, and the human, although sorely tempted to do the same, had her health to think about. One vampire was easy, but two would probably leave her with gashed skin if not more. Roscoe settled sphinx-like on the ground, glad for the arctic-length fur coating her body. Discreetly, she tucked her back paws under her, ready to jump up if anything unexpected happened.
“What are you here for?” Her voice, given a husky edge by the lupine vocal chords, was completely neutral.

Oh yeah, real slick.
Shut up. You couldn't exactly think of anything better to say, could you? I'm more skilled at interaction.
Pish. You're rubbish at interaction. Just let me take over.
No way. You must think I'm stupid. I'll wake up and find myself standing over a couple of corpses with gunshot wounds in my chest.
Ugh.

((heheh, I wasn't planning on inner conversations, but they're fun ))

[breezetavern]

Breeze stared at the other vampire for a few moments. Not because he was handsome (and he definitely was) but because . . . Is he . . . crying? She wondered what had happened to make him so sad. She hadn't cried in such a long time. Not since she was human. She wasn't sure she could anymore.

Focus, Breeze! Werewolf, twelve o'clock!

Her eyes shot back toward the werewolf, who had only moments ago looked like a lean, tan-skinned girl with the most beautifully intense eyes Breeze had ever seen . . . and a wolf paw. But now, she was changing, looking more like the beasts she was very much afraid of. And now she was growling out a question.

Her adrenaline slowing, Breeze backed away from her, becoming a little frightened. "What am I here for?" she repeated, her Irish accent coming out soft. "I'm just tryin' to get to my place. What are YOU here for?"

[darky]

Salem wiped at his eyes trying to regain composure which didn't work very well as his eyes were a lighter brown, almost a hue of blue that would seem to glow rather then there usual deep alluring way, like the pleasant sound of rain on a sober summer morning.
He sighed his voice shaking and looked back up at the vampire to see both her and the werewolf staring at him almost accusingly, which was almost enough to set him sobbing.

"I was here for a funeral" Salem muttered and shook his head "Nothing else." Okey maybe that wasn't completely true he'd wanted to see some of the sights around and the like, but he'd figured the wolf wouldn't care about that shit, and in a way he was telling the truth cause it was the only thing he was set to do, after that he could do as he would, well if he wasn't mauled to death first.

He glanced at Breeze recognizing the accent "What part is that?" he asked curiously, he did like to get back to his roots sometimes, even if the Irish were really agressive compared to most places he'd been, or maybe he only thought that because he'd been so young at the time
(Wooo! Irish rule! Go maith leat! sorry I didn't reply I've been stuck studying haven't had much time)

[roscoe]

The werewolf bared two fangs in an approximation of a smile. "Nice accent. Lil ol' me? Oh, I was just planning to rip up a few vampires and use their skin to make umbrellas. Maybe burn a couple at stake too. Ya know, the usual wolfie stuff." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently it's not just cats that are adversely affected by the rain.

"... I might give up on those plans if you let me dry off in your garden shed or something. And you," she stared at the male vampire again. "I thought vamps were too cold to cry?"

(( very venomous. x]))