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Obfuscate 2 Mask of Tranquility
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Blush, 
Blush, Imbibe, 
Frustration bubbles in her mind, each rising bubble a distracting thought.
Why did Joshua keep me from Court so often?
How could he ever expect me to become functional without some guidance from him?
The last one was more biting, because it was true.
Why did it take me this long to seek a more appropriate teacher?
She slipped into the old rut of reasons and excuses - he was her Sire, he was so controlling, she never saw other Kindred without him
present, so she never saw that they were tackling much different issues. Like independence, tenancy; service to the Prince.
Here she was, ten years dead and Released, and she was starting with etiquette lessons. Was it moving backwards? She frowns, considering it. She knew Ricardo had been disturbed by the agreement with the Herald without a price decided upfront. But damn it, the
Herald was the first person outside of the coterie who seemed to care.
Care enough outside of wanting to either use her - nah! no one wants to use you here! Already got a tech advisor! - or just humilate her because she did something wrong unknowingly. Because her sire is an asshat.
Her cell phone beeped, drawing her out of her funk. Holy cow, she'd spent thirty minutes out her stewing. What a waste of time, she chided herself. So you are ignorant and new. Ricardo is helping her learn; and the price to the Herald will be affordable. You have to make this a priority.
She checks the message, its priority immediately fading when she saw it wasn't Nao or Ricardo.
A college friend, Alyssa, wanting to Skype Friday at like, 11. She'd be getting in from her date with Rick, the dream boat!
One of the reasons she likes this girl is she uses phrases like 'dreamboat'. Her parents were really great about imparting vocab on the kid.
'Sure, 11. You don't come on, I'll totally lose respect for you!' She teases.
Closing the phone, she scoots off of the wall and brushes off her clothes. Three hours to sunset. She should go inside and start looking up ettiquette books on her Nook.
Instead, she stares out at the black streets.
'Going to walk the seedy neighborhood. Back in an hour' She texts Nao, pushing off from the wall and striding forward.
She finds where she wants to be quickly enough. Lumps of blankets lay under tarps, the carts footnoting each form like a loyal dog. She
edges in slowly, pausing to make sure there wasn't a dog.
Once she's certain, a hand sneaks out towards the cart until she finds a bag with a flap. She slips a bill from her pocket into it and quietly replaces it, slinking off into the night.
This existance terrifies her, sleeping exposed, desperately defending possessions. She reads the papaers- articles about possessions -including identity papers- being thrown away because they look like 'trash'.
A noise alerts her as she slides against a wall, becoming still as the corpse she was.
A man laughs, then makes a rude statement about a girl. Another voice responds with the same mentality, but they are heading the opposite direction as her. Jennifer peeked out from behind the wall, watching the two mens' departing forms.
One was her height, Caucasin, wearing jeans so low she could see his Hanes. The other was darker skinned, wearing a white wife beater which was easier for her to follow in the dark. She frowns as they approach the low line of homeless.
One reaches out, rattling a cart with a noise that rattles in the quiet night. Someone rouses from sleep, a muffled cry of alarm that the men find *hilarious*.
Jennifer steps out from the building, watching with alarm for any impending cruelty.
The cart rattles again; the men are laughing as they knock various items from it onto the ground. The duo continue to harass down the
line, rolling carts and rousing sleepers.
Jennifer reaches into her pocket, drawing out her mace and keys. She wasn't above blinding asshats, be it chemically or gorging an eye.
She trails along after the men, watching as they move along.
The Nosferatu stoops to help right someone's cart.
"Thanks." A woman's voice replies, before she peers at Jennifer.
"Jen?"
Jen looks up at the woman; then recognized the woman whose corner she had visited twice in two days; buying her coffee and dinner,
"Hi, Sara. Sorry for the assholes. "
Sara and her friends settled down and Jenn leaned against a dark corner, watching. She didn't like asshats.
She turns down the street and moves to where the she first heard the men. Turning her head, she spies a low house squatting here. The yard was unkwmpt, suggesting men who had better things to do on a Sunday than yardwork. Jen reaches into her pocket and gently low balls an unlit light stick onto the back porch, making a small thud.
No security light went on, no one from inside roused.
Feeling very adventurous - and not at all childlike! - Jennifer closed the distance to the porch, stooping to recover
her light stick. It had good heft, being a battery powered one from REI. Tucking it into her messenger bags outer flap, she glanced down the street. She remains still, searching for any movement or figure who could be watching the
house.
Seeing only the homeless settling back down to slumber who didn't seem to notice her, she quietly moved down the stairs and circled the house. Spotting a bush beneath a window, the young woman moved towards the window and examined it as a port of entry. The window was shut, but Jennifer managed to ease it upwards a crack. Pulling out her multitool, she placed the pliers within the space and applied pressure until the door slide up far enough to get a
hand through.
A few moments later Jennifer slide underneath the window, finding herself in a living room. She remained stock still, listening for signs of detection, leatherman in hand. As silence greeted her, she clipped her Leatherman to her belt and proceeded into the bed room, where she proceeded to snoop.
Not a bad computer set up, if a bit dated. She opened the desk drawer and surveyed the games, guessing it was just a gaming computer. Nothing of worth to steal in there. She flips through a desk drawer searching for bank statements or hidden caches of cash, but there was nothing useful.
She moved under the bed, where she found a collection of vices, worth nothing to her. Frowning, she returns to the closet, feeling around the upper shelf for anything of worth. Damn this loser.
Thinking of him and his friend harrasing the homeless sleeper was really ticking her off. The prick should be taught a lesson; spending his days sitting on his ass playing video games. She certainly hadn't seen any work uniforms in his closet.
She returns to the living room, walking along the wall to inspect the wares.
A Wii, some plastic orange gun, some more more games...
Hello, Ebay. She moved into the kitchen, finding a cardboard box and stocked it with what she imagined the lazy
excuse of a humanspent his days. She then returned to his bed room, tossing his comforter on the floor, folding his pillow and a nice warm looking sweater into it. Fall was coming.
She lowered her items out of the window; carrying them slowly to her low wall. Leaving the box, she carried the bedding and sweater over to where the sleeper had settled down, tucking it beside his tarp.
The Nosferatu returned home that night holding a rice cooker box containing a wii and games.
"Any one up for Dead Space?" she inquired of her haven mates.
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