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Post by Rick Alamaign on Nov 19, 2012 3:18:08 GMT 1
The only places in the city that carried ice were the hospital, restaurants and the casinos. The only place they could really get away with putting ice on his nuts was at one of the big casinos and the closes one was the Valhalla, where he lived. “Oh hell…” he groaned then let out a yelp as she shifted her weight, forcing him to stand taller. It was a good thing actually, since the VSF would definitely stop them if they thought he was seriously injured. While it felt like he was, he knew it would pass before his mistress woke up.
“Take me to the Valhalla, I have privileges.” He requested as he limped along. “Having a mistress nearly 1000 years old can get you…privileges.” He added. He wondered how she thought of him being bound to such an ancient vampire, even if she did only look 24 or 25. He pointed into the distance at the tall white casino hotel that was closest to them, “The T goes there.” He stated, meaning the public transportation. “The stop is only…” he squinted into the distance and knew the exact measurement as soon as it came into view, “376 yards…so a billion miles.” He chuckled softly since the journey seemed like it would take forever.
“I’m sorry I kissed you Chantrice.” He said softly as she walked and he limped, “I only did it because…well because I like you. I think you’re beautiful and I want to get to know you better.” He informed her of his feelings. He may as well since he might very likely get into trouble before the day was over if they couldn’t get into the Valhalla before anyone that knew him saw. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get home alright, I have connections since my mistress is nobility. That is unless I feel better and can get you home myself then get back to my mistress before she wakes.”
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Post by Chantrice Ramsey on Nov 20, 2012 2:49:11 GMT 1
Murmuring a quick apology when he yelped, Chantrice bit her lip to keep the temptation to smile at bay. He made adorable noises, granted they were pain noises but still. No one was shooting them any looks, strange or otherwise, and the beginning of a train of thought was abruptly cut off as she decided that she did not really wish to know what went on here that made people ignore the two of them. Though, she thought, risking a look over at Rick, he didn’t seem to look injured in any serious way. Then again, she didn’t have balls so the effect was probably lessened on her than it otherwise would have been.
“Valhalla? Okay—privileges? What? Okay.” That would be a question for later. For now, they were going to get to the T and that wasn’t too horribly far but… She snorted in a very unladylike manner and could not keep the grin from spreading her lips. She nodded and wetted her lips before adjusting her hold on him. “Maybe only a million, hm?” Chantrice had neglected to mention that she’d never been to Valhalla before so it was a very good thing the T went there. They were likely to get horribly lost otherwise. She wasn’t known for having the keenest directional sense, after all. “How did you know it was 376 yards to the stop?” She could barely settle down long enough to do math on paper, or rather, in the sand since it was easier to erase, let alone do it mentally.
“I’m not,” she answered quickly. “Sorry, that is. Erm, for the kissing. I am sorry for the… yeah…” Chantrice felt her blush come back full force as she looked determinedly ahead because if she tripped at this point, she was likely to just give up on life. “I like you too, Rick, despite what recent events may indicate. I’d like to get to know you better, too. You’re very sweet and thoughtful, and noble too.” And look, they were already closer to the stop. Talking helped the time pass by fairly quickly and she breathed a soft laugh. “You don’t need to do anything, Rick. Believe me. I can get home fine, I just want to make sure you’ll be alright…” She risked a quick kiss to his cheek before her blush coerced her into facing forward again.
Worrying her lower lip gave the chance to briefly mull over her next question, or two questions to be more accurate. “Rick, you won’t get into trouble, will you? For being with me? I mean, your mistress… She’s good to you, right?” She really hoped the lady was. She didn’t think she could take it if he was, well they wouldn’t think of it as mistreated, but she certainly would.
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Post by Rick Alamaign on Nov 24, 2012 4:07:21 GMT 1
Rick felt as if the conversation were making the trip feel shorter and that it took his mind off the pain that was still radiating down his thighs and into his gut. He was eventually able to straighten up so he was not walking funny. Soon he was not making Chantrice bear all his weight. He contemplated her question and chose to tell her because it wasn’t like he was a mutant, his mistress already had him tested. Had he been a mutant, he would have been killed for his crime rather than enslaved.
“I can see it.” He said simply, “I can see everything, how many birds are in the sky above us, how many ants on the ground, even though with the hill over there the number is constantly changing. My mistress says I have a “Keen Eye” as she calls it. She said it makes me unique, I could tell you how many hairs you have on your head.” He smiled slightly then winced as he took a step that was a little too long.
He was taken aback by her apology and almost stopped but he kept going and looked at the ground. “I liked it,” he admitted, “The kiss, that is. Umm, not the…yeah.” Somehow he felt he just said the same thing she said without the apology. “I think you are beautiful, strong and amazing. I don’t have any doubt that you will make it home just fine.” He smiled and looked up again, not because he didn’t know how far the stop was but, more so he could imagine it was closer than he knew. Somehow it did seem closer. “I won’t get into trouble for being with you, but I guarantee you she felt my pain and will chastise me for letting myself get hurt, but then, she’ll dote on me, as she always has. I have been with her since I was 12 years old, she really cares for me.”
Rick didn’t want her to think his mistress’s feelings were reciprocated. He cared about her but not even remotely the same way. It was more like she was a maternal symbol in his life, however perverted it might sound. He cleared his throat softly and licked his lips, preparing to ask something he did not just go around asking people. “I was wondering…if maybe…you might want to get some food…talk a little, maybe see a show?” he almost mumbled and blushed profusely. “Or we could stay in…order something…”
He wasn’t sure what he meant by the second choice other than he would certainly like to get her alone and not have to share her with anyone for awhile. It would be nice to get away from the world in a suite where there was no outside madness, just him, with her, doing whatever they ended up doing, even if it was playing cards or doing a puzzle. Although, there were much more interesting things he would like to be doing with her. He groaned as the stirring that caused in his loins proved painful…”I think we are almost there…” he grunted.
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Post by Chantrice Ramsey on Nov 29, 2012 8:11:12 GMT 1
“That’s incredible,” Chantrice murmured with a smile, shifting her footing a tad to compensate for the small overstep made. Her thoughts spun and spun, making her nearly sway with their tenacity, the sheer confusion they wrought. Was he a mutant? No, he couldn’t be. Whatever he had done to become enslaved would have become a death sentence for any mutant. Wouldn’t it? She was so confused now, slightly afraid as well. His attitude toward mutants was an unknown variable here, one that had the experience and potential to destroy this fledgling relationship. One she rather liked…
This time it was she whose step faltered and Chantrice couldn’t quite keep the smile from her lips and the laugh from escaping. It was endearing that he worried for her journey home despite his profession of his belief in her capability. Her family and friends cared—people they had known had disappeared before—but no one really would have gone out of their way to ensure she received an escort or to truly take her home. Thoughts of him in her home quickly morphed to thoughts that encouraged her to inhale slowly and deeply. Really, Chantrice!
“I worried you would be punished somehow, though… In light of just how exactly you were injured, maybe not… So young! Oh, I’m sorry…I…” She had not meant to say that. It was that foot-in-mouth thing again. She bit her lip and closed her eyes momentarily in an effort to somehow cease being a complete moron.
Letting out a breathy laugh, half in disbelief, she peered at him from the corner of her eye. He still wanted to be near her? After all the inane crap that had happened that had been almost solely her fault? Who was this man?! Maybe his sanity wasn’t as secure as she had been led to believe. Or, part of her mind countered, he has a big heart. She smiled and nodded. “Though, perhaps, we should stay in… Judging from how this latest… excursion turned out, yes? And I’m not quite certain you are fully healed. This last was, unfortunately, babbled at an accelerated rate, as nervousness often tended to do to her speech.
His licking his lips made her want to kiss them again, or lick hers, she didn’t know which. Chantrice smiled at him and decided that both were good options, her lips against his and his scent—and it was a very pleasing one—imprinting itself on her memory. He was adorable when he blushed, did he know that? Probably not. He just had this aura that pulled at her heartstrings and made her smile more easily around him.
They were, indeed, very near to the stop. She could feel the vibrations of the T as it approached, deep in her ribcage. It was still uncertain whether that was necessarily a good or healthy thing but feel it she could. Every time she was near the T or rode it, or read someone that just gotten off it. Valhalla was close!
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Post by Rick Alamaign on Nov 30, 2012 14:56:16 GMT 1
Rick could hear the rumble of the T's wheels on the rails as one was just leaving. That meant 15 minutes until the next one left. That should give them more than enough time to get there. His walking had improved as they made the trip to the station and he was hopeful to make a full recovery before his mistress saw him. Chantrice must have hit a nerve just the right way but did not cause any lingering damage.
As they approached the station, Rick spied two small figures huddling in a corner near a rubbish bin. One was slightly larger than the other and both were wearing tattered cloaks over ragged clothing. They were children, perhaps 5 and 8 years old from the looks of them. He stopped, cocking his head to one side and watched them for a moment. As someone approached the rubbish bin and dropped a half eaten sandwich in it, the larger child stood up. The boy waited for the person to leave then dove into the rubbish bin and retrieved the food. He huddled back down next to his little sister and tore the half eaten sandwich in half offering her the bigger half. They devoured it as if they were starving. They probably were.
Rick did not hesitate to move over to them. The boys head snapped up and he growled, baring teeth with long pronounce canines. His hair was pure white, his eyes pink with no whites and his skin had a pearly, scaly appearance. "It's ok, I won't hurt you." he said softly and looked at the two children. They girl had pointed ears and a soft fur that covered her body except her face which had a striking feline appearance. She looked at his with wide, innocent, frightened eyes.
"Where are you parents?" he asked. Mutants didn't get rations or accommodations but if they were registered, they could find jobs. Rick was confused as to how these children got into this state.
"They was put in the cages." the boy hissed, "Killed them, they did." The girl whimpered and pressed close to her brother. "We is all alone now, scept we has each other." he held his sister protectively to him, "I takes care o' me own." he said with pride. Rick had heard about the cage fights but he had never seen them. He was forbidden from going to the Undercity. He knew the VSF turned a blind eye to it because no humans were ever put in the fights. He closed his eyes and sighed sadly, "I'm so sorry." he murmured.
Rick reached into his pocket and took out a stack of credits scripts. "Here, get some food and clothing." he said softly, "And you see that tower way over there?" he turned and pointed to the old Stratosphere. "That is the MPS building, The Mutant Protection Society. There is a man named Gavin there who will help you. I want you to go there. Tell him Rick send you. I am giving you enough money to get there on the T." he gave the boy a pointed look because he was giving him a look of defiance. "Listen to me, little man. I know you can take care of yourself, but you got your baby sis here to think about. You gotta get her off the streets, it's not safe. It takes a big man to accept help." He smiled as the boy took the scripts and nodded.
He noticed the girls ears and reach out to touch them. "I like your ears." he said with a smile, stoking his fingers over them. "They're cold." the little thing whimpered softly as she leaned into his hand. Rick didn't hesitate to pull the scarf from around his neck and pull her hood back. He carefully draped the scarf over her head and wrapped her ears snugly under it then tucked it around her neck. He pulled her hood back up and smiled, "Better?" he asked and she nodded with a smile. He turned back to the boy, "If I was not a blood slave, I would adopt you. You are the bravest boy I ever met." He took the boys hand and shook it. "Now get your sister to safety little man." he said and stood up. The boy beamed with pride and stood up, pulling his sister up with him and moved off toward the ticket counter.
Rick turned to Chantrice, his eyes moistened slightly, "Poor little things, and that boy is so brave. If they make it to the MPS, they'll be safe." He went silent and moved toward the platform. He didn't need tickets, he had several prepaid passes in his wallet. He took out his wallet, removed two and handed one to Chantrice. "I need a drink." he stated flatly, obviously bothered by what the children just told him. He was silent for another moment, "When my mistress day walks and leaves me everything, I'm going to use it all to help those people... it's not fair." he muttered.
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Post by Chantrice Ramsey on Dec 4, 2012 8:21:40 GMT 1
Chantrice accepted the passes with a sad smile toward the children. The boy was barely tall enough to see over the counter to buy the ticket and she could not quite see the ticket seller’s face but she sincerely hoped they would be able to buy the tickets. It was as much about the boy being able to take care of himself and his sister as it was about getting them to the MPS. They would be able to find help there, homes, food, blankets, and registration for jobs among the least of those. She knew of at least three other mutants who would snatch those children up and love them like no other. Unfortunately she knew of some people who could be rather nasty characters, so hopefully the children would be open to adoption. Maybe she could adopt them, she mused. Once she got paid for her last gig she would have a decently-sized nest egg.
“You are good with children,” she offered, unsure of what to say with so many words piling up in her throat. “You know how to speak to them, the lost ones,” she continued and waved at the pair when she caught the little girl’s eye. A strong maternal longing swelled through her and urged her to gather both children in her arms and comfort them, make them feel safe and loved. It was dizzying with its affect and she gripped Rick’s arm momentarily to steady herself. “They are riding with us.” She peered at him from behind a conveniently placed curl, her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes pleading in a way she hoped he would cave to. After all, she recognized at least one route to the MPS that also ran to Valhalla, though she would admit if asked that she only knew that because she was so terrified she would get lost that she had memorized the entire route and the majority of the stops on it.
“You?” Confusion colored her query and her features as she unconsciously tilted her head. What did he drink? Alcohol? Was that, was that even allowed? Maybe if his Mistress allowed it, it was okay? Chantrice longed to ask but the manners she’d been raised with restrained her from breaching the subject. “I know,” she agreed. He was that type of person, to help others with nothing less than his full 100%. She had not even known him for a full day and even she could acknowledge that simple fact. On the other hand, it was a mystery to her how he knew his mistress would day walk. Chantrice was one of those people who, in addition to keeping herself ignorant about the workings of vampire society, unknowingly experiences lapses in social grace, during which she could and would ask questions or say things that may not be socially acceptable to inquire about. It was one of those lapses that nearly occurred a few weeks ago and she had very nearly asked an acquaintance of hers—a friend of one of her sometimes employers—about day walking and all the intricacies involved in such a question.
“Rick, I will admit to being exceedingly relieved that you do not look down upon mutants,” she confessed with a small smile. “It was bothering me all day.”
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Post by Rick Alamaign on Dec 6, 2012 3:31:51 GMT 1
Rick tried to smile at Chantrice. Usually, such a complement would have him blushing and grinning from ear to ear with words of thanks or protest. But not today. All he could think about was those children and how if he had not gotten into trouble when he was 12, he could adopt them. But then, he would not be the man he was today if he had not and who is to say he would have wanted to. He sighed softly, “Thanks, I just know what its like… to lose your folks, you know.” He turned and watched the children and noticed they were, in fact, getting on the same train car. “Excellent.” He whispered. This way he could keep an eye on them. For awhile anyway.
“Yeah, me, I could use some fruit juice, I forgot to bring my extra rations.” He answered her. That probably answered her question as to whether or not he drank alcohol, or at least if it was what he meant this time. He turned and looked at Chantrice when she spoke of his acceptance. His genuine smile returned and he placed a hand on her cheek, “I see…” he began, “everything.” He shook his head in emphasis that there was nothing that he didn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t every matter.” He murmured. Suddenly he took her into his arms and pressed his jaw to her ear, “As a matter of fact, I think they are…hot.” He whispered softly in her ear. “I want to put my lips to them, but, I don’t want to embarrass you or draw attention to something you wish to hide from the world. It’s not mine to do.” He took a step back and moved his hand under her hair. He careful not to expose her ear and gently stroked his thumb over the outside edge before removing his hand, “I think their fantastic.”
Rick noticed the children moving out of site and stiffened. “Come on, let’s make sure they get where they are going, without him knowing we are following.” He said and moved quickly to move to the next care where the children had gone. The pain in his groin was being completely ignored now that it had subsided exponentially.
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Post by Chantrice Ramsey on Dec 11, 2012 22:15:31 GMT 1
Chantrice followed him into the next car, gripping the nearest pole tightly as she fought to control the electrifying surge of utter want that had swept through her from the moment he had touched her. Or, more specifically, her ears. This was a new development she was not entirely certain she approved or feared. No one had ever had that powerful of an effect on her and as she regained control, she tapped her hand on her legs silently, trying to rid it of the tingling sensation that held it. The blush staining her cheeks faded and she kissed his cheek.
Blinking rapidly with raised eyebrows, she took in her surroundings and noted that the children were at the opposite end of the car. Why would they be over there? With a slight tilt of her head, she recalled what Rick had confided earlier. “You have lost… before?” It was not exactly the most sensitive question she could have posed but she was not the most tactful person at times. “I am sorry, Rick.” Sometimes she truly wished she had learned to think before blurting out questions. She would ask him about his ‘seeing everything’ comment later. Preferably when they were alone and not on a car moving however many miles an hour it was moving.
Fiddling with her hands, Chantrice eyed Rick for a few moments before plucking up her courage and stowing away her bashfulness for the time being. “Rick… Do you… Do you know how it costs to adopt a children? Or two?” Voice low, she bit her lower lip and sighed quietly, simultaneously making her bangs poof up with the exhale. She had her doubts, of course, and worries about what exactly would happen if she was able to adopt but her parents should be more than happy to tell her. There had been more than a few—well, calling them hints would be too kind—dropped about her mother’s yearning for grandchildren. Copious amounts of grandchildren.
She had turned out alright but already she knew that she would pay more attention to any children she had, or adopted. The number of things her parents had let her slip by them, or hide from them, or had flat out ignored was horrible but she at least knew they did not do it out of spite. They were really just that clueless about some things. Eyes wandering toward the children again, Chantrice frowned. The maternal urge to hug them and take care of them came over her again, so she fixed her eyes purposefully on Rick. She very sincerely hoped he was not offended or thought her stupid for asking.
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Post by Rick Alamaign on Dec 16, 2012 3:36:35 GMT 1
Rick didn’t want to think about his parents. The last thing he could remember about his parents were their screams. “When I was 12, I flipped out and threatened to kill a VSF officer, that’s why I am a slave.” He murmured, not taking his eyes off the children. He kept his hand on her elbow as they moved through the car so he would not lose her in the crowd. As they moved, he kept his eyes forward but his hand suddenly caught a man’s hand as it reached out to grab her ass. He twisted hard before letting go and moved on, ignoring the man’s whining.
He thought about Chantrice’s question and nodded, “I doesn’t cost anything. Something about selling people being illegal, even mutants if they are children.” He informed her. “I never asked my mistress if I could adopt but I know how she feels about mutants.” He added as they approached the children. “Hey there, we meet again.” The little boy hugged his sister to him and hissed at Rick until he realized who he was and blushed, smiling just a bit. “We was doin’ the doin’ you says to do Mister.” He said confidently, sitting up straight and tall. “I knows I gotsa get her inside ‘fore da sun goes ta bed.” He nodded to emphasize what he was saying.
“That’s real good.” Rick said with pride and motioned to the empty seat next to them for Chantrice to sit down. “I need to see my old friend, Gavin. Do you mind if we ride with you?” he asked as if he wasn’t really there to protect them. He glanced at Chantrice and smiled, “Maybe we can walk with you from the stop, I have some extra shuttle tickets.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a stack. “My mistress makes sure I get anywhere I need to go.” He took two and handed them to the boy. The boy looked at his suspiciously as he took them. “Thanks Mister. You can ride with us, is a public train.” Even if he was trying to sound brave, one could see the relief in his little pale face.
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Post by Chantrice Ramsey on Dec 27, 2012 21:20:23 GMT 1
Well. Now Chantrice felt horribly guilty with a good dose of ashamed to boot. She had never meant to bring up painful memories but it seemed she had inherited her mother’s way of caring. Someone, usually her father, would tell her that he hurt in one spot, usually sunburnt, and that was why he was grimacing. Her mother would then pat him and try to soothe him, realizing too late that she was patting his sunburnt shoulder. It was good for a laugh but on the other side of that fence, she wished she had never opened her mouth.
So distracted was she that she barely even registered someone else trying to touch her who was not Rick. Glancing at the man, she noted that he was likely the gambling sort. The sort that would, having been told No, persist. He had gotten off easy with Rick’s warning. She likely would have attempted to break his foot and vanish into the crowded cars ahead.
Seeing the children brightened her mood and her heartstrings tugged again, prompting her to smile at both the children and rest in the proffered seat. “Thank you for letting us come with you,” she teased lightly. It was not an easy thing to trust people you had never met, nor to navigate one’s way through New Vegas to a place they had never been, but the children handled it brilliantly. “So, I was wondering if you could help us. You see, Rick says that red is the best color there is but I said that blue has to be the best color there is. I don’t know which color is the best anymore. What do you think?” All this was said with a serious look on her face and, though she and Rick had said no such thing, she dearly hoped he would play along even if his favorite color was pink. The question was left open to both children but she suspected that only the boy would answer, being the more vocal and outgoing of the pair.
Truth be told, she would not have been able to concentrate on much else had they left the children alone at the stop, or even after they exited the car. The worry would have been immeasurably unbearable in that she would have become immeasurably unbearable in her worry for them. It was a vicious cycle, really.
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Post by Rick Alamaign on Dec 31, 2012 17:33:44 GMT 1
She didn’t say anything else about adopting the children. Truth be told, he had hoped she would have offered to. He could have given her enough scripts to take care of them, even moved them into a suite at one of the smaller casinos or paid for residence in one of the safer communities. There were many mutants with extreme intelligence that worked as tutors, he might even have been able to pay on to educate the children. The boys speech patterns obviously showed his lack of education, perhaps even showing his intelligence at teaching himself the talk. Snakes were intelligent creatures and if he had any snake in him at all, he would be a brilliant student. The girl obviously had some kind of cat in her DNA, he knew she would probably excel at anything they sent her way. Yes, he could be a good father, but he would need a mother to raise them until his mistress day walked so he could be with them. The thought of having a family filled him with hope.
“Yes, yes, red it best, you can see it better.” He had to search for a reason why red would be better since he had his fill of red in his lifetime and really didn’t see any redeeming qualities about the color. He loved blue and was glad that she picked that color for herself because it meant she liked it too. “I like red.” A small voice said and the little girl stirred and reached for Rick. He immediately picked her up then cradled her as he took her seat next to the boy. “Are you gonna be my daddy?” the girl asked innocently. The question choked Rick up slightly. He wanted that so badly. He would have to find a way to do it. “I’d like to be.” He said softly and stroked her hair where the scarf had fallen away. “But first we need to get you to the MPS. You might have to go into a foster home for awhile. But they will treat you real well and feed you every day, you’ll sleep in a warm bed and have shoes on your feet instead of tying rags around them.” He frowned at the look of disappointment on her face.
“He don’t want us, sissy.” The little boy hissed softly, “Ain’t nobody wants us. But, we’s family and is all we needs.” He added and looked down at his hands. He was disappointed as well. Rick sighed. The situation filled him with resolve. “I want you.” He said sternly. “And when I have a place for you, I’ll come and get you.” He promised. “I will be your father.” He lifted and hand and rested it on the boys back.
“Promise?” the boy asked.
“I promise.” Rick informed him, “You won’t be in a foster home for more than a few days, and I’ll make sure Gavin knows I’m coming back for you.” He looked at Chantrice helplessly. He didn’t know how he would do it. He was still tied to his mistress. She wasn’t planning to day walk till her birthday a month away. “I’ll find a way.” He promised and pulled the kids to him…his kids.
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Post by Marcel Chevalier on Jan 9, 2013 7:29:13 GMT 1
Moved to new board
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