Perdition-Last Chance [Open, but you MUST read the OOC before hopping in]

[Poprockz]

Darla's eyes widened. A hundred years was a long time to be in Perdition. Hell, it was a long time to be alive in general, and to think that Zhaan had spent it relatively alone made Darla wonder how the woman had not gone insane. Or maybe the woman was insane, and simply was starving for someone to play with. In either case, it was a risk she was willing to take considering she got the sense that the woman wasn't necessarily prone to violence.

She nodded and followed the woman, casting a glance over her shoulder at the bar and the man now lying dead on the ground. It was her own resolution that she would seek her own happiness, and this seemed like a path that might get her closer to that. Whether or not she became able to defend herself, she hoped that maybe she and Zhaan would at least become friends.

With that last glance, she turned and simply followed the woman up the stairs.

 

[Drobabes]

The walk was not a long one, down one hallway and then around a corner, and then they were there. Zhaan opened the door to her 'room' and stepped in first, then held the door for Darla.

Immediately Darla was hit with an intense and heavy heat as she stepped into a literal jungle. The ground was real dirt, wood chips, leaves, and foliage. The plants and trees grew impossibly tall and large, with ferns as tall as Zhaan herself lining each side of a well worn path in the dirt. A barage of different smells hung in the air, everything from sweet and tangy to slightly rotting and earthy, and a welcome breeze brought something akin to passion fruit as well. Perhaps the leaf that she had used to make the sweet drink earlier.

Although it was completely shaded overhead by the canopy, Darla could feel the rays of sun that would likely crisp her skin in a matter of moments if she were not protected, and it's heat still broke through to permeate the moist and heavy air. Even Zhaan was forming a light sheen of sweat on her brow as she stepped in front of Darla to lead the way down the path.

"Welcome to my home, my..."

She paused for just a moment as she thought of the correct phrase, reaching out with her hand to break a leaf off of a plant as they walked.

"...jail, where I will serve my penance. Step carefully, Darla. You will not like it if you lose your way here..."

Something hooted and then howled in the far distance, and behind them, where the door had been but was now gone, something else answered.

 

[yaturtle]

wow

i was curious about the title of the thread and just now went back an read it.
just by coincidence we are a downpour with thunder setting off car alarms.

yikes! what me superstitious noooo

 

[Drobabes]

[Just giving the thread a little bump for some curious souls]

 

[Shadowlace]

Red locks slipped from under the young woman's coif. She had come from somewhere else, her life shattered as she faced ex-communication. The land here was different she could feel it, it seemed cold and distance. Nothing really stirred but also teemed with things.

Miranna, a nun of some thirty winters had somehow stepped through the confessional door only to find herself in some dilapidated church. It was moss-covered and gothic fixtures seemed to gather about the place. Which for her was fortuitous as she was accosted when she got here. A man who seemed ot be feral and wearing the frock of a priest assaulted her, trying to tear at her habit, seeking to ravish her as she had...

No, she pushed out those thoughts. She fought vainly as the man forced himself on her. She held to her own past experience doing the same thing this beast of a man was except to a fellow sister. She sobbed through the ordeal until she found a stone and with knuckle white grip slammed the rock repeatedly into the skull of the beast who took her. Freed of his torrid muscles, his member popping free she stood and adjusted her clothes.

Miranna took the next few days to add to her clothes form the closets of the abbey here. She also took up the sword of one of the cases in the rectory. She even took several kitchen knives and sharpened them. Eventually, she made her way through the crumbling ruins, avoiding others here and there until she stumbled into what seemed to be the location this place had drawn her too.

As she entered she had read the sign, It said the Dogskin Bar. She had come full circle, for her journey to the abbey had begun in a bar so too shall it again. At least she had hoped.

 

[Drobabes]

Slater sat near the old jukebox, his dark hand in his freshly cut, short cropped curly hair. A small glass of something amber in color rested beneath his other hand as his light brown eyes roamed the bar.

It was just another day in Perdition, although he wondered what it would bring. As of late, it seemed as if things had gotten shaken up a bit more than normal, which filled him with both with a hunger for something new, something to sate his curiosity and the ever drawling boredom that seemed to permeate his every waking hour, and simultaneously dread. This place had barely changed for nearly fifty years, and yet suddenly in the last month or so, he sad seen and felt so many interesting things. It unnerved him.

The women that came through the bar doors that afternoon unnerved him as well, and peaked his curiosity. It seemed the two feelings would be joining hand in hand for some time, then.

He made no move to greet her, simply staring and watching. He would see how the bar handled her, and how the Dogskin itself greeted her.

 

[Shadowlace]

Miranda kept keen on her surroundings, she noted the denizens and instinctually let her hand got to the hilt of her sword. It relaxed on the pommel but she could if need be draw it. Watching she gracefully moved from the door to the bar.

Her movements were precise and almost sultry, toe heel, toe heel. Hip slightly forward in a strange swaying motion. It was not intentual as she had somehow made her attentive steps more comfortable like a dancer, instead of clunky like a warrior.

Miranna finally made it to the bar with no altercations. Which allowed her to exhale and relax just enough to feel normal again. It was in that moment a thunk happened behind the bar.

Curious the nun slipped around the back of the bar and began to search about. This brought her to reveal what looked like a fallen box from. She picked it up and looked at it she gave it a shake. Nothing happened. Sortly after she was given food and something to drink on a tray in the strange order up window.

All of this was strange. So strange she went and sat the food, drink and book on the nearest table and just stared at it. Her brow furrowed trying to figure out what all was going on.

 

[Drobabes]

He pulled his black vest down his torso as he sat up a bit. The bar liked to give him the, ironically, classic bartender attire, complete with a white undershirt and small black bowtie. Not that he minded all that much, as it did make his darker skin stand out quite handsomely with the contrast.

His eyes watched the, was she a nun? As she sat somewhat near his table and stared at her new gifts. He couldn't help but smile just a bit, loving seeing the different reactions on people's faces as they tried to figure it out. Should he say something? Or just keep watching and being entertained?

"Go ahead and try the food miss, it's only as good as you think it is."

He smiled at his little joke, although it was mostly the bars really, as he took a drink from his glass. He wondered if she had figured it out yet, that she was nothing more than a spirit like the rest of them?

 

[Shadowlace]

Miranna was brought form her revelry, she had having drawn a knife and had it held out before her. It was instinct now after having fought through a variety of men who seemed to want release and she was something for them to release on.

"Are you the owner here? Or are you an employee?" She asked slowly putting the blade away and then gingerly went for the food. Which thankfully having been a troublesome nun, had learned to live and work off little more than nothing.

The red-haired nun took a bite and then moaned almost orgasmically as the food was incredible. Such rich and decadent flavors that fed her heart and soul with warmth and light. It was intoxicating. it also was the only real food she had in what would be 7 days.

 

[Drobabes]

Slater had been lifting his glass to his lips, about to take a small drink, when the redhaired beauty brought her knife forth. He had paused, unsure of what she was going to do and really not knowing if she was same, or like so many others in Perdition who would simply slit your throat for the joy of it and because there seemingly was no consequences. Slater had his suspicions, though, about consequences. It was one of the questions that kept him up each night.

"Are you the owner here? Or are you an employee?"

He finished what he had been doing before answering her, seeing as she didn't seem like she was about to come at him and make him fight. When he was satisfied with his drink, he sat his glass down and simply watched her for a moment. Her lips chewing her food, and the moan she had let loose with made his own desires grow, but he ignored them. He doubted the new women was in any kind of mood for that, having presumably just arrived by her questions, and he himself wanted to just drink away the memories today.

"I'm neither. The bar does as she pleases; she needs no staff. Although..."

He looked over at it then, with a soft gaze that one might expect to receive from an old friend.

"Once in a while she entertains me and let's me come back to flip some drinks. Not often though."

 

[Shadowlace]

"I see," she says with a smile. The nun continues to eat for a bit and then giggles as she made the connection. She almosts snorts as the laughter intensifies and then looks up.

"Sorry I just made a connection that you are infatuated with the bar who seems to provide and care for all. Its strangely like a mother-child relationship. Wanting to tend to the needs of those within" She breathed in deep and then drinks.

"So does this bar have rooms? Are they claimed?" She asks looking at the box wondering what was inside.

 

[Drobabes]

He cocked his eyebrows for a moment, wondering if she actually did 'see' as she said she did. Judging by the way that she was acting towards it all, so casually, Slater could only guess that she had yet to figure out she was actually dead yet.

He looked away, staring out across the floor as the amber drink and his thoughts took him away from a moment. He had seen a beautiful Amazonian women in here earlier, along with a breathtaking blond haired women that he had seen on occasion but never had the balls to approach, and he wondered curiously where the two had gotten off to. Usually he cared little for what the other patrons did with their time, but with such a boring existence, a little bit of eye candy once in a while was always nice.

Her laughter brought his attention back, and he stared at her curiously, wondering if she was a bit loony. When she mentioned his 'infatuation' with the bar, he gave her a bit of a pissy look and clucked his tongue. He wasn't 'infatuated' with anything, and for someone who had just showed up and knew nothing about what the place was like, she sure seemed to have a pair on her.

"There is rooms. Upstairs. The bar will lead you to which one is yours."

His drink disappeared from his hand and atop the table was placed a warm mug of something that smelled like chamomile and honey. It only made his pissy look become one of genuine anger for a moment, then he simply sighed and took a drink of the warm beverage. It did taste quite nice, and the feeling of it between his hands helped to soothe some of his annoyance away.

 

[Shadowlace]

She stopped and looked at him. Something she said must have got to him. She could see the stress on his face. It was strange she was more attuned to such things since she got here. Maybe it was something given to her to be more like a shepherd to the people however, it seemed more and more that it was more torturous with the vagabonds she had fought out there.

"So when I walk up the stairs it will reveal to me my room?" She asked once more picking up her box. She stepped forward towards him and then slightly bowed.

"I am sorry if I offended you earlier. I am Miranna, It was a pleasure to meet you. May God bless you and keep you" She says as she raises and heads upstairs with her box in tow.

 

[Poprockz]

It had been a while, but under the teachings of Zhaan, Darla had an epiphany. When Zhaan had told her that she was weak in the mind, what she truly meant was that Darla would never be able to defend herself or anyone else if she didn't believe she could. Any hesitance or restraint would be something that doomed her, and she had to come to terms with the fact that she was her own protector here. There were no laws or police, or even friends or family that could help. There was simply herself and what she had on hand. She couldn't change the hand fate had dealt, but she was completely remiss to think of herself as helpless.

When she had trained with Zhaan, the woman had shown no restraint. When they practiced fighting, Zhaan would literally kill her if she wasn't careful or didn't move quickly enough. After enough times dying and learning, she was soon able to at least hold her own. She had never actually been able to best the woman, but she was now a lot more capable of defending herself.

The blonde walked down the stairs, quietly surveying the bar. It seemed like a long time since she had been down here, having traveled into what almost seemed like an alternate dimension with the tall woman. Who knows, perhaps it had been. She had been taught to fight, taught what to do with different herbs and medicines, and basically how to be more resourceful. When she had returned to her own room, she had been surprised to find that Perdition had changed it slightly. Now it was still a dorm room, but there was now a walk-in closet. The closet was basically like a make-shift greenhouse, lots of plants in pots that seemed to be cared for by Perdition itself.

While it had been a while, she was still in her black slacks and white blouse, the red tie loosely around her neck. her black high-heels clicked on the stairs as she went and she soon noticed a woman coming up. The stairs weren't super wide, so she moved to the side and simply waited for her to pass, Darla's blue eyes looking her up and down.

It was interesting to her that this woman was dressed as a nun. Either she was truly a woman of God, Perdition was mocking her morals in life, or she had tragically died on Halloween. Regardless, she was very attractive and Darla found her eyes wandering over her form. There was something about redheads that she very much enjoyed; perhaps it was something about the vibrant nature of those red locks. Her red lips curled into a smile as she looked back up, nodding in acknowledgement. at the woman as she approached.

 

[Shadowlace]

Miranna managed to meet another inhabitant of this tavern. She stopped and curtsied to the woman. Granted her free hand hovered over a blade hilt but she was trying to be nice.

" Good evening," she says unsure of to the exact nature of time and went with what felt right. " I'm Miranna, a new guest a pleasure to meet you Miss" she says as she then raises to her full height and begins to move forward.

A box still rested under her arm and she smiled hoping that she could get a nice bath and wash her clothes..

 

[Poprockz]

Based on the response she got, she assumed the woman was truly a nun, though she wondered how “pure” this woman truly was. The woman’s hand was so quick to go to her knife, a reflex that seemed deeply instilled in her. For that reason, she imagined she may have had a difficult life in the land of the living.

“Mm. You can call me Darla. Come find me if you ever feel a bit... lonely and I’ll treat you to a drink. If nuns drink, that is.” She gave her a small flirty smile before winking and continuing down the stairs.she wondered what that little box was about; perhaps it was where the girl kept her bible.

She made her way over to the bar, a little ways away from where Slater sat, a cranberry martini appearing on the bar. Zhaan would definitely turned her nose up at the sweetness of it, but she liked the sweet, tart, and bitter notes mixed together.

 

[Drobabes]

Slater watched her approach with a bit of annoyance, having decided not to answer he question about the rooms. She would figure it out in time. Everyone figured everything out in time, it seemed.

"I am sorry if I offended you earlier."

His dark chocolate brown eyes went to her as she bent before him, and her apology did help to soothe some of his anger. Not that he was all that angry to begin with, but he definitely did have a bit of a mean streak in him, and being laughed at was one of those things that just got under his skin like nothing else.

"It's alright miss," he had said.

"Slater. I'll see you around."

His own introduction had been short and sweet, then he had watched her walk away towards the stairs. After she left, he sat there for a few moments and simply smelled the warm drink in his hand. His eyes stared blankly out at the bar until they travelled and caught something white and gorgeous, like a portrait in a sunlit room. It had been a while since he had seen her, but she was still just as beautiful as ever, and it seemed as if she still had the same taste in drinks.

For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn't offer her something. Perhaps a gin and tonic, spruced up with some cranberry juice and a bit of that peach snobs, to give it a nice sweet kick.

He wasn't really meaning to stare at her for so long as he thought about the drink, but he should have known. Before he even had time to blink, the drink appeared before her on the bar in a fancy little wine glass with a half slice of lime, and Slater was left feeling rather awkward at his own table. The drink looked exactly how he had imagined it and suddenly he found himself longing for his own room.

He stood, began to walk away from his table, then turned around and grabbed his warm tea. After that, he quickly retreated towards the stairs, his gait tall and almost professional in a way, but not stiff. He didn't slink away, but neither did he bother to look at her until he reached the stairs, and then only briefly, before his feet began to carry him up.

 

[Shadowlace]

Miranna walked past what seemed a dozen or so alcoves that would normally have doors. There were no doors. She seemed to feel a bit tired and then suddenly a door was spotted. She stepped up to it and opened it.

Inside it looked a lot like the cell she had in the convent she had just come from. It was very spartan. Except for a few colorful things like flowers and a few simple candles it was almost like home. once inside she pulled off her habit and laid out all her gear. She knelt down and prayed to God allowing her to find a safe haven for now.

Once done Miranna let her hair down, her body was in the mere slip and panties she had since she got here and curled her nose at it all. seeing another door that leads to a bathroom she did what she had intended. She washed.

The hot water ran over her taught toned frame. She grabbed the soap and began to apply it to her naked body. Her hands caressing and careening down the milky white skin dancing over the scars she had gotten both her and before. The one however she rested on was the one on her abdomen. They're below her navel was a long deep scar a caesarian. It was one of the last things she remembered before waking up here. Well technically it was getting throw out of the covenant, but that came after she was able to return.

It was in that memory she stopped. Tears welled in the corner of her beautiful lustrous eyes. Her child, born of her and Father Mulligan was taken from her. Stolen by the state at the behest of the church. It would have cost the father his collar, but she wanted to keep it, wanted to stay and be with the sisters she had come to love as her family. Instead her Mother Superior had sent her away and then had her excommunicated.

With her ex-communication, she left the church and remembered getting interviewed at a club. After that, it was a bit hazy. She sucked it up and strode out of her room naked. The pert perky yet small 34 B sized breasts jostled as she got to her writing-table where the box was. She looked at the box again and noticing it isn't dented or wet she grabbed a former filet knife and began to cut open the box.

Once inside she saw clothes. a t-shirt and jeans were similar to what she had when she left. A Run DMC t-shirt, tight acid wash jeans, and comfortable sneakers. After that was a pair of scarlet red lingerie, lacy, and silk. Miranna scoffed at those and smiled when she saw a more comfortable bra and panties but despite the cute bow and satin an embroidered A in red on them. She hated that even more.

She tossed the clothes aside to see a bible and another habit. She took them and set them to the side. However, the lingerie with it was a black leather bodice with bright white panties with black lace runners. garters and black hose. It was the same one she had worn with Sister Emily and Father Mulligan. She shivered to throw them on the ground.

It took a minute to recover her mind racing as to what was left. She peered in and there sat a scrapbook, AS she looked inside there was a baby girl with curly orange-red hair and freckles. It kinda resembled her as a child. As it went on she began to see the various aspects of the girl's life. On a deeper inspect she could see what looked like her as the mother. How could she be the mother of...

The flashes of her last few days at the convent rolled back into her mind. The pregnancy the affair, the accusations, the ex-communication, the seedy club all of it. It culminated in her dancing and vaguely remembering large amounts of drugs and alcohol. She blinked and remember struggling under someone, she lashed out with a knife and felt a fist in return. Pain seared her skull, followed by her wrist. She cried as she felt her self being violated and no one was there. She remembers another attempt at stabbing only to feel another punch to her face, In the end the pressure of some left, only to feel another and then another. Until she finally won her struggle and lashed out with something hard. The smell of blood and sex lingered and finally a loud bang.

The memories went white and she began to pant and sweat. She was sitting in the chair she had in the covenant. A place she once thought home, after all that seemed less so. The red-haired woman, Miranna stood and shakily made her way to the bed and laid in it, sleep came to her as did the tormentors moments of her final days. Days of stripping, whoring, drugs, and alcohol that led her to end in an alley gang-raped and shot. All this because it was wrong to love two people one a man and one a woman.

 

[Poprockz]

Darla had simply been sipping on her drink, lost in thought when the other drink appeared. She looked up in surprise, knowing that she hadn’t ordered anything and the bar didn’t typically give her different alcoholic beverages for funsies. She looked around the room, trying to figure it out before giving up and looking at it.

Hesitantly, she reached out and picked up the glass. Bringing it to her face, she gave it a sniff before actually taking a drink. A pleased smile came to her face and she licked her lips. It was delicious. Was that... peach schnapps? She wouldn’t have thought that peach and cranberry would work so well, but it definitely was a good combo.

Once again, she looked around the room, trying to see who it was from. Her eyes almost landed on Slater before a blonde guy walked up and leaned on the bar, blocking her view of him. “You like that? I thought such a sweet-looking miss would like a sweet drink.”

She smiled at him and nodded, “yeah, it’s great. You have some good taste in drinks.” The woman had no idea that the guy was taking advantage of Slater’s drink, posing as the man who had given it to her.

“And you have some good taste in lipstick. Since I’ve shared a taste with you, maybe you could give me a taste too?” He grinned lewdly, his eyes going to her chest before looking back up at her eyes.

Darla’s smile faltered and she took a drink of her own drink, pushing the one she thought was his toward him. “No thank you. I’m happy with what I have here.”

“Come on, babe. No one’s happy here. All we really have to do here is fight, fuck, drink, and murder, and I’d love to do two of those things with you, but you’re the one who decides which ones they are.” He looked impatient, his suave body language gone as he adopted a more intimidating stance.

“Alright.” She smiled and stood up, sliding her hand up his chest and behind his neck, into his hair. “Let’s fight.”

He looked a bit surprised for a split second as his forehead was slammed down on the counter of the bar. The man clutched at his head, his blood dripping into his eyes. She reached out and grabbed his arm, twisting it behind him and forcing him back down, slamming his head down once again. Leaning in, she hissed, “try that shit again, and I’ll slit your throat.”

 

[Drobabes]

His feet were still carrying him up the stairs, but they slowed down as she picked the drink up. He couldn't help it, he had to stop and stare.

As her gorgeous lips perched themselves on the glass, his eyes watched her with hunger and the hand he had placed on the railing gripped it a bit tightly. He felt a little crawl of anxiety up his back and radiate throughout his chest as he waited for her reaction. When she smiled, he found himself smiling as well. So she had liked it, then. Perhaps, another time, he would get her another. Or rather, ask the bar to and just keep himself in the background.

His gaze was just turning back to the stairs when he saw the other man approach. A bit of bile seemed to rise in his throat and he tsk'ed in annoyance as she turned her attention to him. Of course that would happen. Of course his luck, no less shitty in this life, would come into play here.

He half watched, feeling his room pulling to him but not quite being able to go just yet. He half expected her to keep flirting with the man, like she seemed to have done with that cowboy he had seen a while back. However, what he didn't expect, was for her to suddenly slam the guy's face right down against the hardwood until he could hear the crunch of the man's nose give way.

His eyes widened and he all but gawked. Where and when had she learned to do that? When had she changed from that sad little thing into this new, confident women? Was it that Amazonian women? Had she taught her how to fight?

He leaned over then, against the railing, and his grin grew to reveal his white teeth as he watched her with awe for a few moments, curious of how she would finish it up. When he had had his fill and he was done getting his fill of her beautiful form, he finally turned back to the stairs and continued on. Just before he rounded the corner and ducked out of sight, however, he willed the bar to give her a gift.

https://i.imgur.com/qdDZi9V.jpg

Inside the box was a single yellow rose, the same beautiful golden hue as her hair, and a hand written note in elegant writing.

Thank you for avenging my drink,

-Slater​

___ ___

Slater wandered the halls for some time, but it seemed as if Perdition did not want to lead him to his room. A bit of that familiar anxiety came back to him, but knowing there was no real way to fight it, he let the bar lead him. His feet carried him down unfamiliar halls as his mind and soul prayed that what he found at the end of his walk would not be horrific.

 

[Shadowlace]

Miranna laid on her bed clutching the scrapbook and crying. She didn't know whether or not she was dead or in a coma, what was this place who were those people. She was torn mentally and physically. She had felt everything,everythingfrom those flashbacks.

Oddly she felt something radiate from the door. Something was wanting to get her to the door. Fatigued and distraught from the revelations she struggled to get back to her feet. the Naked nun shuffled towards the door slightly hunched, her red locks in tangled ringlets. The tiny woman had suffered, after crying so much her eyes were moist but puffy.

Finally, her tiny feet carried her to the door and she cracked it open to take a peek outside. She wondered what was beyond?

 

[Drobabes]

Slater had wandered, following that strange pull, until it suddenly left him. It was an odd feeling, almost like he had dropped something on his walk, but what he had dropped he couldn't remember, nor where he had dropped it. Suddenly he saw a door crack open slightly, and he turned to stare at it, curious of who was peeking out at him.

He couldn't quite see who was behind it, but he thought he saw a flash of red-perhaps hair. Was it the women from before? The little nun?

"Uh, hello?" he asked, a bit awkwardly. The bar had brought him here fora reason, but he still didn't know what that reason was.

 

[Shadowlace]

She didn't answer just blankly stared at him for a while and spoke timidly." Are...are you real?" She asked from the crack in her door. She was still in shock from it all and here was the man form the bar standing there.

"Am I real?" She asked just out in the open until she then began to sob again. She slowly made her way to the floor letting go of it and it opened wider revealing her tiny athletic frame. Miranna uttered a few latin phrases as she slumped on her knees, her red hair cascading about her like a cape as she looked down in prayer trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

 

[Drobabes]

"Are...are you real?"

Slater stepped a little closer to take a better look, when suddenly the door opened wider to reveal the redhead from earlier, suddenly a sobbing mess on the ground. A naked, sobbing mess.

"Shit" he said after clucking his tongue in annoyance. He looked around the hall, not noticing anyone else but knowing that someone could come along at any moment and find the little redhead. It was terrible timing for her to be breaking down like this, likely having just stepped out of the shower. He knew he had to do something, but he felt extremely awkward about what needed to be done.

With a very angry look set upon his face, he stepped into her room and tore the blanket off of whatever bedding there was, and then he wrapped it around her front and brought it up under her arms. Once it was covering her front, he tied it in the back like a robed dress. He then scooped her up with a grunt, as he was strong but not extremely so, and he brought her to her bed. Once she was deposited, he quickly went back to the door and shut it with a bit of force.

Once that was done, he turned and stood there with his arms crossed, the look of annoyance still on his face. He wasn't sure what to do now. Why did the bar lead him here?

"Hey. Stop crying."

He looked down at her, but when those wet eyes of hers looked back up at him, he felt a pain in his chest. It may have been almost fifty years ago that he arrived here, but the memories of fear and confusion were not forgotten. Slowly, he lowered his arms, then he came to sit by her on the bed.

"Please stop crying" he said, now in a much softer tone.

 

[Poprockz]

With one final slam, the rude man was out cold. Darla sighed and sat back down, taking her own drink and taking a sip once more. Beating up scumbags was thirsty work, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, a little white box with a red ribbon appeared and she raised her eyebrow. Was this from another man who was about to approach and try to coerce his way into her pants? Or perhaps it was from the bar itself, a gift for having defended herself. She had to admit she was quite curious, so she wasted no time in opening the box. Inside, she found the yellow rose and the note, a confused lion crossing her face.

“Thank you for avenging my drink...” she murmured softly. Had she accidentally drank someone else’s drink and they were too shy to approach, or was it that someone had sent her the drink and the blonde fool had taken credit? Either way, she wasn’t familiar with anyone named “Slater,” and she wondered who they were. It could honestly have been anyone, and there was no real way to find them unless they came to her or gave her a clue with another box.

Her red lips curled into a smile though as she picked up the rose. Yellow- the color of friendship. The fact that they had went for the less common yellow seemed rather charming to her, being of the opinion that red was overdone.

Darla sighed and took the note, folding it up and putting it in her pocket before picking up the rose and her drink. She walked up the stairs, feeling a bit bored and tipsy and thinking that she might occupy herself with one of the toys she kept in the chest. The hallway was longer than Norma, and it seemed to be taking a long time, but she was confident that she would end up at her room eventually.