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Post by Isadora Mariah Diardo on May 28, 2013 18:55:27 GMT -5
Technically she didn't need to eat and while she enjoyed blood far more than she enjoyed food, she found herself wanting something solid for once. And she wasn't going to very well cook for herself. So she'd stolen what money was in Izzy's purse and skipped off to town, wearing the tightest pair of jeans Izzy owned and what she supposed was a decent shirt. She needed to go shopping, she was sick of all this shitty clothing. And she needed to move, or leave the city. The smell of horses was starting to drive her crazy and all she wanted to do was kill them all. Once again, the only thing stopping her was the lack of satisfaction of Izzy knowing of their death. So she left the stupid beasts alone, instead focused on what she wanted to do. She was finding it much harder to find humans now, since all of them were either pets or in hiding.
It annoyed her. She wanted fresh blood and she didn't want to worry about stepping on some other vampires toes by taking a bite out of some pet. Not to mention usually those she takes bites out of don't survive for long at all. She'd drank all the blood bags Izzy had laying around. But she wanted it fresh from the source and she was finding it hard to do so when every human she saw was a fucking pet. Oh sure, she could just force some human into a dark alleyway and take what she wanted, fuck what the laws said. She wasn't afraid of the laws put in place by that Monarch. It wasn't quite dark enough yet, so she'd eat something and let that curb her thirst for a few hours at least, and then she'd settle her thirst when the darkness fell down upon the city. Ooh, was she ready for that.
She walked up to the quaint little cafe that apparently was one of the best little places in the city. She wasn't impressed. Then again Isadora was hardly impressed with much of anything, given that she'd rather have the classy high life but that wasn't happening. Yet at least. No harm in worming her way into a rich person's pocket, she had no issue mooching off of other people and then dumping them when she was finished draining them dry, whether it be money or blood or both. She stepped into the little cafe, her lips pursing and her stony gaze looking over the crowd. She recognized a few people that Izzy knew, making a mental note to avoid them, before her gaze swept over a very familiar blonde. She couldn't help the immediate grin that flashed across her face. There was a woman who knew how to have fun, someone Isadora could actually like.
The brunette woman walked her way over there, confident about approaching a woman she'd indulged in great violence with. They'd been wild together and Isadora missed that, maybe she could get Jo into joining her on another escapade this fine afternoon. Darkness would fall soon and they could go on another rampage together. "Jo. I didn't expect to see you in such a shitty place as this" Had she mentioned how she wasn't impressed with the cozy little shop? Well she wasn't. "I'd expect you to be tearing some poor person apart" However she didn't seem like she was very sympathetic to whomever that 'poor person' would be. Words: 601 Tag: Jo Notes: i tried to get more words out of her, she's being a hussy. |
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on May 28, 2013 21:55:11 GMT -5
Hungry. She was always hungry, hungrier than she had been in a long time. She should have expected this, she really should have, it wasn’t exactly like she was eating for one anymore and it was beginning to show. She stared at herself side-view in the mirror, trying to figure out exactly where her normal body ended and the bump began. She hadn’t shown too much over the last few months as she’d slowly and unhappily done all of the paperwork for going on full time desk duty. Desk duty. She hated it, hated it with a passion, hated it more than she hated the fact that she was currently banned from having coffee and and having alcohol. At least she was left with sex. If all of her normal vices had been taken from her, she might just have bitten or ripped someone’s head off. The desk was her archnemesis and was to be met with the same disdain as the anniversary of her long ended marriage.
Of course, everything changing, being taken away or limited, and the general rush of hormones made her a little more, ah, punchy than usual. She was in a constant battle for control between the normal her and the definitely more unstable side of her personality. Although she was now comfortable with the situation, it was one of those fine line moments, where someone saying the precisely wrong thing, even at the right time, might just set her off. Needless to say, she was finding herself more and more in need of the varied types of support and comfort provided by her partner in crime, baby daddy, pie-addicted, mildly overprotective Daryll Scott. In fact, as a result of this entire mess, she’d been spending more and more time at his place, which in turn meant that her dog was spending more and more time there, frustrating him, amusing her, and bamboozling the two oversized dogs that seemed to alternate between believing Terror was a chew toy or, as his name suggested, something rather suspicious and to be treated with the utmost suspicion, normally a conbination of the two.
But as her stomach rumbled, she was distracted from her thoughts of mutts and whiskey malts and instead to the fact that she had something alive demanding food and rolling around in her abdomen. The motion hadn’t been there long and was still proving quite unnerving. More than anything, it reminded her of nausea. Between that and the very clear increase in her bust size (a favorite when she was staying over, to be sure), she wasn’t even sure what to think of her own body anymore. The baby had a will of its own and seemed intent on having its way, whether Mama wanted that or not. She sighed and grabbed the long dress from off the bed and slid it over her head. It disguised most of the bump, although the neckline did draw attention to the other changes in her body, particularly the chest. She was going to have to break down and buy new clothes soon. A shopping trip for her and shirts with snaps for Dar, so that she didn’t kill all of his button-ups.
She walked out of her room, Terror close on her heels. “Alrighty, time for a new deal, little buddy,” she said as she grabbed his water dish off the floor, “no messes while Jo gets herself some food and you’ll get a nice bone for dinner.” She watched him for any reaction. At the moment, he was more interested in chasing his own tail across the kitchen, an endeavor that ended with him running into one of the cabinets. She shook her head as she set the water bowl down. Typical dog, more interested in anything other than their owner. He wandered over, investigating the bowl for food before smacking her calves, begging for attention. She grinned and gave him a few scratches behind the ear before standing up. That motion got harder and harder as this went on, namely because her joints were being weird and the fact that she was no longer able to move in the quite same ways that she was before her pregnancy.
Quickly, she wandered to the door and slipped on a pair of shoes, ducking out and locking it before Terror fully realized she was out of the apartment. The walk to the little diner down the way was quick enough and she practically ran in, her stomach growling the whole way. She knew what she wanted. Biscuits and gravy. Yes, there were new and inventive things written on the specials board, but all she wanted was biscuits and gravy. It was one of those weird cravings that came with the baby. One night, she woke up from a rather typical nightmare and all she wanted was a jar of sweet pickles. She’d been damn unhappy until she got them, too. She slid into one of the booths, resting against the back of it. This pregnancy just might drive her insane, especially if the doctors told her she couldn’t have anything else. The rather perky waitress, now used to these random trips, brought her a glass of water and let her know that her normal order was in. Jo just nodded and closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the back of the booth.
Her moment of rest was not interrupted by her food arriving. No, it was interrupted by a voice that made the crazy scramble like all hell to get loose. She took a breath, pushing the animal back into its cage before lifting her head and opening her eyes. She had a general idea who the woman was, she was there in the hazy memories at the end, right around the time that she’d been set loose in Texas. Yes, Texas and the South. She’d been hell on heels then and didn’t really figure anything out until the next war. “Things change, Isadora,” she said, adjusting her position to get more comfortable with the bump. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it ‘til the end of her term, she was just trying to cope with now. “Why aren’t you off harassing someone before snacking on them? I’d have thought the new regime would be quite to your liking,” she said, trying to pull together what she could from a few lucid moments. Yes, this was her partner in crime late in the game, a woman almost as bad as herself, a woman who by all accounts had a softer side that was never let loose, a woman that Jo might have the responsibility of dealing with if she got too out of control.
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notes: well then, jo, just be verbose why don't you.
words: 1122
outfit: here
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