Shadow Of Her Former Self
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June 2nd, 2008
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| The truth was that Bethany had been a little more ruffled by her arrest than she’d allowed the government agent to see and she felt the best way to deal with the nerves was by getting herself a drink. But she didn’t go to any old bar, she went to a well known if not ridiculously priced cocktail bar that catered to some of the biggest names in Vegas. With contacts like Bethany’s it wasn’t hard to get yourself into a place like that, the only tricky thing was catching the bartender’s attention for long enough to get your drink. And her mood was not as good as it could have been, given that she was still nursing a slight concussion and the bruises had blossomed into vivid colour. They wouldn’t be there for long, she knew that, but they were there and that was enough to put her ill at ease. She tapped her nails against the metallic surface of the bar, hearing them click in subsequent rhythmic motions, impatience and irritation clear in the tune they played out. It finally took her reaching across the bar and tangling her fingers in his collar for him to look at her. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for you to get your act together and frankly my patience for your ineptitude has worn rather thin.” The bartender blinked and looked much like a deer caught in headlights. “Can I… uh, take your order?” “Better,” Bethany purred. “Dirty Martini.” She untangled her fingers and pushed him back across the bar. “Let’s see how quick you can do your job.” She gave a sweet smile tinged with danger. “Ready. Set. Go.” Her eyebrows lifted with the last word and she watched with some amusement as he scrambled to make her drink. She shook back her hair and tilted her neck into her hand, closing her eyes as she blocked out the world around her. Not that she could ignore the sensation of being watched, it was a cold indifferent gaze. That much she could tell by how the hairs across the back of her neck rose and stood on edge. God, she hated feeling on edge all the time. Bethany needed to relax and then see if she couldn’t find somebody who knew anything about where captives were taken, see if there was a way in. She’d slaughter anybody who stood in her way. She had made mistakes by being too rash and too impulsive in the past, she wasn’t about to make the same decisions and risk everything. The drink was settled in front of her and Bethany ate the olive first before she indulged herself in the alcohol itself. [Thread: Open to Darian] | ||||||||
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stressedMay 28th, 2008
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| [[Non Journal Entry]] It had been hours after her initial arrest during the early hours of the morning that the door to the cramped interview room opened and Bethany looked up from her idle observation of a peeling tile on the far wall. “Well?” She asked, shaking back her blonde hair as she straightened up. “How was my paperwork? All in order, I hope?” There was a clearly uncomfortable shift of the young agent’s weight from foot to foot and a reluctant clearing of his throat. “Yes, all in order.” He dropped a brown folder down in front of her. “We wouldn’t need to go through these steps if you just cooperated with us, Miss Richards.” Bethany rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to assessing the tips of her nails. “I assure you that the last thing I want to be doing is cooperating with the likes of yourselves.” She tipped her head and regarded him with cool eyes. “Am I free to go then? A free very legal visitor to the United States?” “Yes,” he muttered softly. “You’re free to go.” “Wonderful.” Bethany gathered her things and slid her jacket on over her shoulders, pulling the collar up to hide the bruises all over again. “Because as much fun as this has been, I do have other things to attend to.” She rose to her feet, resting her weight on precarious pinpricks of heels and turned, clicking echoing off the walls. “Miss Richards?” Bethany paused as her hand reached for the handle and she turned her head, merely lifting an eyebrow. “We’ll be watching you, just so you know.” She gave a small disbelieving snort and shook her head. “What else is new?” She took one last lingering look at the young man. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.” And beneath the smile and beyond the courtesy was the suggestion of malice, translating to an uneasiness that suffocated the room and swallowed any and all light with its weight. As soon as it had washed over him it was gone, the dull clunk of the door closing in the absence of one Bethany Richards. | ||||||||||
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predatoryMay 14th, 2008
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| [[Non Journal Entry]] After escaping the bar and the fucked up ambush by the inept government Bethany wound up in alley, losing most and practically all of her stomach contents. Apparently the tear gas hadn’t agreed with her the moment she’d hit fresh air. She slumped back against the nearby wall and lifted a very bruised hand to her mouth, wiping away traces of vomit before she coughed, feeling her eyes burning. She was still for a moment before she pushed away from the wall and straightened up slowly. Bethany was well aware that the cut on her eyebrow would blossom into a black eye and she could feel a cut in her lower lip, she must have caught it when she had been busy slaughtering whoever stood in her way. Things were not helped by the fact she was a little dizzy and somewhat disorientated. Slayer or no Slayer, she was still vulnerable to things, like concussion for example. Apparently the guy had had a harder head than she’d given him credit for. Her eyes were streaming, not because of any emotional outburst, but because they were still suffering from the after effects of the gas that she’d spent far too long in the middle of. The knife still clasped in her hand was spun across her palm and eased back into the thigh sheath. There was no more need for it unless somebody was stupid enough to try and take her on now. Hopefully they wouldn’t. She was lacking in mercy today. Bethany reached up and caught a hold of the black ribbon, loosening it and letting it catch in the cool night breeze before she merely shook out her blonde hair, it was time to lose herself and be lost to the darkness. And then she could make plans. | ||||||||||
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tiredMay 5th, 2008
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| [[Non Journal Entry]] “I really don’t think we’re understanding one another,” Bethany purred as she straddled the young agent’s chest and leaned down to bare her teeth, glinting white and dangerously in the yellowing light. His eyes widened as they came to fall on the tip of a Sais that rested a mere millimetre away from his pupil. “I’ve already sent God only knows how many of you away with the very same answer. We’re not interested in signing up to your Godforsaken initiative.” “I’m not sure how many more of dead bodies it’s going to take to drive the point home.” She tipped her head and considered her prey through a delicate curl of blonde hair, out of place on the visage of cruelty that twisted her pretty features. She rocked back onto stiletto heels and tipped her head, falling quiet again. “Stay right here.” Bethany eased leather clad legs off her fallen enemy and rose to her feet, smoothly and elegantly. She crossed over to the nearby window and pulled out her phone, managing to get a signal in the deepest recesses of Las Vegas. “Ralphael, cancel my three ‘o’ clock I’ve been unfortunately detained elsewhere.” Bethany snapped her phone shut a second later and turned, frowning ever so slightly as it would appear the agent had taken it upon himself to get up and run. “Stupid boy.” She twisted her Sais and began after him, using his blood as the trail she would follow him to where she’d inevitably kill him. She had caught this one trying to take down a couple vampires and even though she didn’t care much for the unknowns wandering this side of Vegas she wasn’t about to let them get slaughtered in some ridiculous government crackdown on the Supernatural. So much for the land of the free. | ||||||||||
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busyMarch 23rd, 2008
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| It was a Saturday evening in the heart of Las Vegas, the rich and the privileged had taken to the town in style. Women dressed in only the finest of dresses and men adorned with the most expensive watches and the fanciest cars, clearly enjoying showing off their wealth to those less fortunate than themselves. Of course there were a few amongst the many that stood out from the crowd of repeats and copycats. One of those was Bethany Richards. She was elegantly dressed in a red silk dress that clung to her every asset and showed both wealth and taste without having to go over the top like the other ladies attending this social gathering. Not much had been heard on the grapevine about the project underway by the Government. Bethany had chosen her side, for better and for worse. It would all come to a head eventually and she planned to be there, fighting for survival with teeth, nails and knives. Currently she was sipping at a glass of champagne and taking in all the sights and sounds. The way in which the light played off the crystal chandeliers and sparkled over ostentatious earrings and necklaces that hung from necks Bethany was sure she’d rather strangle than watch. Her gaze travelled from the people to the marbled flooring beneath her feet, hard to miss it with the way her heels clicked against it. Clearly the owner of the hotel had gone to extreme lengths to ensure only the best for his place, given that the marble was etched with art from Michelangelo. She’d spoken to many people and laughed at some of the worst jokes she had ever heard but all in the interest of business and securing her name amongst the wealthy. Bethany finished off her glass and turned her gaze back to the party, familiar faces and unfamiliar blended together in front of her eyes. Bethany swept some hair behind her ear then caught the scent of a familiar someone on the air and turned her gaze away from the crowd, inclining her head to catch his eyes with the greatest of ease, not that hard to do when her eyelashes seemed to go on for miles. And in the next second she was gone, vanished before his very eyes, but if he was to look close enough he would see her moving away from the main crowd and into a nearby room. It wouldn’t hurt to speak in private. [Thread: Open to Darian] | ||||||||||
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refreshedMarch 2nd, 2008
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| [[Non Journal Entry]] Heads or Tails: a simple choice. Join up and be blessed with countless privileges and advantages, but in exchange… lose what? Your sense of self, your belief system; the very things that you’ve upheld without the use of a badge. Refuse and be hunted, like an animal. A shudder works its way down the length of your spine, reminding you of another time when instead of the hunter you were the hunted, a time better left forgotten in the passages of time. You press a hand against the glass of your window and you inhale and exhale, weighing up the choices that have been presented to you by the American government. There is no oath of loyalty from you to this country, no unspoken vow to uphold its basic foundations. Bethany Richards, you've never followed anyone else and every time you had you'd been dragged under the influence of filth and corruption. You made your own choices and forged your own path. You will not be shepherded like the masses, not now and not ever. If they want a fight then so be it, let they come and let them try. A monster you may well be, but you still have a soul and it's yours to keep, for better or for worse. God help them if they try anything, with you or with Darian. Not that you lack faith in your lover's ability to look out for himself, but anybody lays so much as a finger on him and their head is as good as yours. If a call to arms is what it'll take to live your life the way you always have then so be it: you choose Tails. Let the war begin. | ||||||||
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thoughtfulFebruary 12th, 2008
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curious
Shadow Of Her Former Self
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