Night's Omen

"No, it really makes no sense," he responded, returning to the bench just for a seat.  No, he didn't crack his face on the pavement, but he could certainly doubt what happened earlier, considering the breakdown he was having at the time.  He wasn't going to explain all that to this girl he didn't even know, but he could ask her about Miras.  He was interested in hearing that bit from someone like him, for sure.

First, the car.  He remembered where it was, and explained that to her without hesitation.  He just didn't know where HE was, so it was less than convenient.  Actually, he had a couple of questions for her, but he was going to start slow.  Asking about Mayhem right off the bat didn't strike him as a good situation.

"You ever heard of Mira's Line?  I never really cared much about the lines, except Akkas with their lame-ass quirks, but Mira's came up tonight," he explained, not even realizing that mention of Akkas might be a bad thing.  How was he to know?

"Okay, then let's get moving," she responded simply, motioning for him to follow her. And she'd turn and go the direction of his car, and if he didn't follow along, she'd leave his ass behind. Angela wasn't into charity, but she figured that she'd do it just this once since his bench broke her fall, so to speak.

She glanced over at him as they trudged the length of the park, which led into a field (and then the woods, eventually), and then that sneer came back at the mention of the Akka line. She'd been all ready to tell him what he'd asked - well, the minimum, anyways - nothing you couldn't find in the libraries at Single Earth - when he'd made the crack about them. Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge down to hit him with her forearm hard enough to break his jaw. The anger flared across her skin in a hot wave, like a sudden gust when you opened up the oven too fast. It was there, and then gone, leaving a pit in her stomach where the idea of Jared was stored.

"Yeah, I have," she said curtly. She corrected her tone quickly, though, and looked ahead as she walked, careful to pick her way over rocks and other random forest-y type shit she could trip over. It didn't matter that she could see just fine in the low light conditions, or that she'd never just trip anyways, but she was making a good effect of pretending to be human, so why not keep up the show?

"They're pacifists, mostly. Lots of them associate with SingleEarth, that lame ass 'love and peace' organization," she replied. She thought of Jacob and smirked to herself - even the older vampires got caught up in all of that 'save the world' bullshit. Whaaaaatever. "At one point in time there were almost zero left altogether, because a few vampires from a more powerful line got it in their heads that they wanted to expunge them - and so they did, almost."

She shrugged. "They're all the same to me." It was a lie as it left her mouth, raking across her lips like jagged glass as she spoke it. The blood of the untruth would fill her mouth and overflow into her brain, giving her a pang of guilt for even saying it - but it was true. It was true, and if she kept saying it, she might believe it.

He didn't even realize what it was that had irritated her as he followed, or that she considered breaking his jaw, but he noticed the curt tone and hesitated in following her for a moment, well aware of the fact that he didn't know what he was dealing with here, and he was unarmed.  Posey, Rochelle and Poppy all seemed pretty damn human, and this one played it well, but he'd seen how she moved against that vampire.  He wasn't so sure she was what she seemed to be.

She stopped with the attitude, so he didn't comment on it immediately, merely narrowing his eyes and taking in the rest of the information she offered.  It pretty much went along with what Posey and Poppy had said, which was a point in their favor. 

Amazing, he trusted the word of a person he'd just seen put a knife in someone over the lady that gave him tea. 

"All the same, huh?" he asked, not so sure he believed it, but the only thing he'd mentioned was Mira and Akka.  Mira was supposedly pacifistic, so he didn't see the problem there, and Akkas...well, they didn't last long, as a general rule.  He liked those, because he could fuck with them while he killed them.  Other vampires didn't freak out over religious items and other fun things that he could dig out.  "I know the feeling.  I don't discriminate with them.  Easier to just kill them all and let someone else figure it out."

Oh, he meant that.  He wished he didn't, but he did.

Angela was resolute that most vampires were the same - killing them was nothing out of the ordinary. There were only a precious few whose deaths, whenever they came, would bother her. Jacob, for the moment, was one, and of course Jared was another. Had they even officially broken up? Angela didn't know what to make of the situation, but she knew that she wasn't telling anyone about it. It would slash the credibility she had as a hunter to ribbons, and right now, her credibility was all she had. Chris couldn't have known that, of course, but the fact that Angela did know made things more difficult.

Still, she didn't go telling complete strangers her personal story, anyways.

"Pretty much," she agreed with a sigh. She slowed her pace a little as the metallic glint of moonlight provided them enough lighting to see Chris' car in what was now plain sight a few paces ahead. "I'm going to go on a limb here and say that's yours?" she asked, gesturing to the automobile in the distance. Even in low-light conditions she'd have seen it, but the moon was enough that Chris would see it, too.

For all he knew, she was human. She still had bruises, despite her strength, and since he hadn't personally felt her grip, he would be left to assume she was well-trained. The problem, of course, was that her natural aura drew humans in - a Witch had a certain charm, a circle of warmth around them that made humans want to be near them. It was all well and good for Smokes, because of their nature, but Angela didn't need or want anyone close to her for the time being, and the one person she did want close to her was now something she despised, so as far as she was concerned, that was an open and closed case.

"Your chariot, sir," she said graciously and mockingly, bowing as they approached the car in a much closer fashion. Now it was only ten or so feet away; the distance was flat and mostly grassy with a few rocks here and there, so not something hard to traverse. "Think you can handle it from here?" she asked playfully.

He didn't go around telling complete strangers his personal story, either, which basically meant that these two weren't going to be having any groundbreaking revelations anytime soon.  That was fine with him.  He had enough problems without listening to hers on top of it.

The problem was that, for some inexplicable reason, he liked her.  Maybe it was his earlier vulnerability still not worn off, but there was just something about her that he couldn't help but like.  Technically, that meant he DIDN'T like it, since it went against everything he'd decided for himself about not getting close to others, but this wasn't the first time he'd met someone he liked.  Usually it didn't happen so quickly, though.

Weird.

Of course, he had no idea that witches just did that to people, or that his own subconscious loneliness might have something to do with that.  He just liked her.  She was aggressive, snappish and more than able to hold her own.  Qualities he valued.

He nodded when she asked if the car was his, already watching the area around it, just in case.  It had been long enough that he didn't think anyone would be waiting around for him, but it had also been long enough that the blond vampire he'd shot in the ass might have come back with buddies.  "If I say no, are you going to carry me or something?" he asked, actually surprising himself with a sarcastic little smirk.  She'd been mocking and teasing him, so he didn't feel too awkward in returning the favor.

"On a serious note, I wouldn't mind a few minutes of back-up.  My weaponry is at the car, and I shot a vampire in the ass just a short walk away from here a few hours ago.  Can't imagine his dignity's feeling too nice right now," he explained, still glancing around.  He didn't want to think about what the retaliation for that might be if he didn't have a weapon on hand.  It certainly couldn't be pleasant.

"Pffft," was the only verbal reply Angela gave as she responded to his remark about her carrying him. She did smile, however, which wasn't at all uncommon. Angela smiled a lot when she didn't have much to be happy about; humour did that to her. It just so happened, however, that most of her moments with Jared were spent in sarcastic and yet heartfelt bantering, so every smile she gave was double-edged, and on the outside the blade shown nicely, while inside it cut her up like a filet.

It figured. He'd even ruined sarcasm for her, that bastard.

"Backup? Sure thing, boss," she chirped, letting him go ahead a few feet before she silently moved after him. It was easy to see the transition between 'normal teenage girl' and 'hunter' as she suddenly changed everything about herself in one fluid motion. Footfalls suddenly were measured and lacked noise, and even her breathing had become inaudible, whereas even after the time between her physical confrontation and now some people would have still been winded. One of those deliciously sharp knives was in her hand, held firmly by her thigh as she walked so as not to shine in the light. She didn't need to announce herself any more than the human already had.

Once he'd gotten safely into his car, she folded her arms across her chest, the knife still in her hand. "I think you've got it covered from here," she said. There it went again, that change - she was relaxed, one knee bent as she rested her weight on her other. Her expression was lazy, if not a little amused. Angela was hard to explain, but then again, Aruns were still somewhat enigmatic in their own right.

Jared, depending on the mood you caught him in nowadays, might have been happy to hear that he'd ruined sarcasm for her.  Chris simply had no idea it was a problem, and she didn't give him any indication that she disliked it.  Not that he would have stopped, but he might have liked her less if she couldn't handle him being cynical.

Considering his attitude, that meant that she couldn't handle him, in essence.

He wasn't blind, so he noticed the transition, and he approved.  It meant that he wasn't about to get gang-raped (figuratively speaking, thank god) by a bunch of vampires without a fighting chance, and he appreciated that.  Grabbing up the gun that he'd flung dropped earlier and hopping in the car, he took a moment to check that it was still loaded and operational, then glanced up at her. 

"Yeah, I've got it, but it's awful dark to be wandering around alone.  Can I take you to your car?" he asked.  Really, it was only fair, and he was pretty damn sure from the way she'd handled that vampire that she'd put one of those knives in him faster than he'd get that gun up if she felt threatened.  Fortunately, he meant well.

Angela just shook her head. "I'm good," she said, and she meant it. She'd walked anyways. The distance between here and her mother's house hadn't been a monumental one, and she'd needed the physical activity to take her mind off of her current life situation. "Really," she said in response to a doubtful look, rapping the top of his car ever-so-lightly with her knuckle (Angela had been known to dent cars when she hit them, it seemed), the signal for him to take off.

"I grew up around here. Believe me - they wouldn't dare," she said. She almost wished they would, though, silently as she gave a small wave to the car as it pulled off. It would give her some excuse to let loose and go really berserk. That, she realized with a sigh, would be some other night. She turned back down the road and hit the path that lead back to her own house.

Casually, she glided up the front steps, a movement from the curtains telling her that her mother was awake still. She glanced over her shoulder, brown eyes glittering in the dawn light. She knew he was watching her; she could feel him. She didn't know where, though, so she couldn't focus on just one spot to stare at, or else she'd have bored holes into his brain. She pushed the door open and closed it with a click. They'd changed all the locks on the house after Reilly had found some texts Akkas, and it protected them from Jared just waltzing right on in.

It was convenient for Angela, at least, but she wouldn't have had to worry about it anyways. Jared was probably in the bushes with a splitting headache for how badly her chest cramped whenever she realized that he was out there.

He wasn't sure he believed her, but he didn't exactly know that the one most likely to approach her was also the least likely to outright attack her right then, so he had room to doubt what she said.  He'd offered, however, and shrugged at her insistence.

"Alright then, thanks," he told her, not really caring enough to force the issue.  He wasn't going to insist that he take her wherever she was going, since she definitely managed before he'd run into her.  He was sure she'd continue to manage without him.

Everyone always did.

Jared didn't move from where he watched, having picked up her trail after she'd left Chris.  That was for the best, since he'd have been less than pleased to see her chatting and trading sarcastic banter with some random dude. 

Yeah, so he was jealous.  It pissed him off that other assholes could be around her all they wanted, and he couldn't. 

Changing the locks had been a fairly useless venture, for the most part.  He didn't like Angela's mother much, mostly because she'd hated him, so he wasn't going to enter her home just because he didn't want to deal with the hassle.  He also couldn't think of a decent way to approach this issue, and since he got a massive headache that spiked whenever Angela seemed to realize he was around, he knew better than to just appear there and try to deal with it on the fly.  He'd just screw it up and get pissed off. 

He saw her to her door, and perhaps that was all he'd needed.  He sure as hell knew that if anyone had tried to mess with her, he'd have smashed their faces in.  Then, he'd probably have gotten into a blow-out argument with Angela, but he'd have still done it.  Once she was in the house, he lingered for a few moments, but left shortly after, not wanting to tempt himself into anything else.  It wasn't like he could just ring the doorbell, anyway.