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The Eternal City

Astrid Offline
Astrid scrolled through the assignment text on her phone, taking screenshots and mental notes before her alarm sounded. The notification swinging down to cover the paragraph she had been reading was the only thing that made her slide out of bed and put her feet to the cold hardwood of the bedroom floor. 

Dancing over to the bathroom on her toes, she shut the door behind her and sat down hard on the bathmat beside the small heater set into the wall. 

The priest made the call. Set up the meeting. All she had to do was go to the church, pick up the car, and drive out of town. After? That was the puzzle. She should call her sisters. Staring at the manicured finger over the 'call' button beside Sigrid's name in her speed dial, her mouth worked furiously. Her teeth hurt. Astrid did not need assistance. Reynolds told the scum 'a representative' not two, nor the three Frida would make.   
Standing, she stepped into her cramped shower, letting hot water wash away past, present, and future sins. 

The parking lot was empty when she pulled into a vacant layperson's spot. From the far-away window of the rectory, she saw Reynolds' expressionless face, watching her. Pretending she did not see his poison-eyes, Astrid climbed out of her car and pulled a violin case from the trunk, swinging the cloth strap over her shoulder. 

The Mercedes was blacker than Reynolds' gaze, gleaming in mid-afternoon sun a few spots away from her own vehicle. Astrid settled into the driver's seat, watching soft lights of the interior flicker on and feeling the warm air of the air conditioner hit in her in the face. Reynolds had waited until the last minute to bring it. She glared at him through a heavily-tinted window, somewhat glad he couldn't see–lazy, cold fish

Syracuse had a decent classical station, and Astrid felt eased by Vivaldi, Bach, and Chopin by the time she turned the car around on 11-A, facing north in the southbound shoulder. Rolling down the window, she listened for traffic before popping the hood and making some quick and somewhat messy changes to the car's connection to its computer. She hurried back inside and turned the key. It did not even try to start.

Pulling the phone from the glove box, she called the only number in the contacts. 

Throwing her voice higher, giving herself the heavy Swedish accent of her maternal Grandmother, she said, "Yes, this is Ella Holm. I call to speak with Mr. Price." 

On hold, Astrid unzipped the violin case one side at a time. 


Played by: Nary

Age: 24

Species: Human

Posts: 5
Silas Offline
Humans often underestimated a vampire's strength. It was a doubt that transcended sub-species, a short-sightedness that spoke to the cosmic hiccup they called their brief, disorganized existence. Vampires were strong not by the power or persuasion they wielded but by the mere fact that they lived on.

The heartbreak and the failure and the tedium, enduring that was what made them kings among paupers and plebeians.

Silas sat nursing a glass of spiked ichor from his family's reserves. Their converted wine cellar did well to suit their sustenance needs - for a while, at least.

The company was rotting, the lawsuit an unexpected and jolting death blow. Perhaps, if his father had been there none of this would have happened. But the golden son began to suspect more and more that all of this was in exact accordance with his father's wishes. He simply hadn't a clue as to why he wanted to see his great creation destroyed.

"Mr. Price, someone is on the phone for you. An Ella Holm. Should I put her through or take a message?"

"You can put her through, thank you." He didn't know a single Ella Holm, but speaking to a stranger would fill his time, a resource he had far too much of these days.

"Hello? This is Silas Price. How may I be of service?"

Played by: Lyss

Age: 132

Species: Vampire

Power: None

Posts: 23
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