Motorcycle Mama

[Clara E. Verne]

The hum of the engine exploded into a roar as Clara twisted the accelerator. The empty road materialized before her in the halo of her headlight and disappeared behind her in a blur of gray line with yellow markings. Clara pushed her engine to go faster: 70 miles, 80 miles, 90 miles. The wind whipped and wailed passed her. Clara grinned.

At 100 miles she skidded at the sight of a dog that limped in front of her. She barely glided out of the way, pulled her brake handle, and spun out. By no small miracle she remained atop the bike as the rubber tires burst and ripped themselves into tiny black ribbons. At a crucial moment the bike bucked and Clara hadn't anticipated it. She slipped and fell back from the bike.

In a flash of clarity she could see the riderless motorcycle skid out and continue on without her. Then it steered itself to the side and skid along it's side and off the road. Clara landed on her back with a hard thud and felt the thundering crack of her helmet on asphalt. She lay there for a moment clad in a leather jacket, boots with jeans, and a full-face helmet.

"Merde."

@Floki Cayce

[Floki]

Frigga's Distaff shone high above, three glittering points of light, so beautiful amidst their bed of black, jewel scattered velvet. Sighing in contentment, Floki leaned back against a desert rock, staring up at a sky full of stars so familiar, and yet so strange. This far from the city, it was possible to actually glimpse the beauty of the unreachable sea. Supposedly, there were men feverishly trying to build boats that could sail out into that dark vastness. Would she be able to survive long enough for them to be built? Could she make one more voyage beyond the world?

Her thoughts were interrupted by violent sounds in the night, tires blowing, steel against asphalt, mental crunching in the distance.

Hmm...

Had she just lucked onto a meal?

Grinning like a wolf, Floki scrambled to her feet and took off at a run, unable to resist letting a howl spill from her throat.

The Hunt was on! Her feet flew over the sand, bringing her every closer to her injured quarry, her flat teeth bared in a grin as she closed in on the fallen cyclist.

That is...until she felt the press of scales against her, felt the needling press of two fangs against her skin. Yes, it could still be a meal, though that might mean she would need to leave Sacramento, and that wasn't part of her plans. Besides, did she really want to stain her soul with some stranger?

"Well, well," Floki exclaimed, pacing closer to the unknown fangbanger, "what brings a little ormr out to the desert this night, away from their cozy little city? Does the little ormr want a hand?"

[Clara E. Verne]

Smoke emanated from the Bacchante's form lying on the asphalt. Clara blinked. She'd almost felt something for a minute there. Her arms and legs stretched out spread eagle to point were she heard her joints pop. Then a voice.

The shiny black visor of the helm turned towards the presence. Clara, with her features hidden, furrowed a brow. She's awfully cavalier. For all she knows, I could be dying. Even behind her visor she could make out the stranger's handsome features.

The Bacchante finished her stretching with an audibly pleasurable gasp. Miraculously nothing was out of place. Clara then turned her gaze towards the sky and brought her hands up behind her cracked helmet. "Qui moi? Just chasing a shooting star." Her sing-song voice was muffled and light, so the stranger would have to strain her ears or get closer to hear. "Et toi? All alone on a dark road in the middle of the night. Are you the big bad wolf my mama warned me about?" Clara's tongue always had a hint of French, but she playfully slurred a little harder towards the end.

The stars were a little more noticeable outside the city. She'd forgotten how much brighter they could be on the road.

[Floki]

As soon as Floki heard the first hint of speech from beneath the carapace wrapped about the lone little leech's head, Floki called upon the senses of the hunter she'd imitated just moments before, her ear drums more than four times more sensitive to the subtlest of vibrations upon the wind, and her nose drawing in every trace chemical she would normally be blind to.

Just in time to hear the little leech's joke.

Floki laughed, and knelt down next to the other Kindred extending a hand.

"The Big Bad Wolf is my brother. But trust me, I'm far worse. Now why don't you take off that silly thing on your head so that you can show me those pretty little needles behind your lips. We could share a meal, you and I. Call for a tow and have us some Chuck, or Garry, and then drive back to town together. If I'm escorted, I assume it won't be mistaken for squatting."

Activating Heightened Senses: Hearing, Smell

[Clara E. Verne]

A smile formed on Clara's obfuscated face. "Why Mademoiselle. Are you asking me to take you for a night on the town without knowing my name? Or me yours?" Clara took the woman's hand and pulled herself up with a grunt. She held onto the hand.

"You have a famous brother, sure, but I've never met you. I would remember." Clara unzipped her leather jacket with her free hand. She dusted off the snug gray tank top she had on underneath. "I'd much rather go back to your place. You do have a place, yes? My mama warned me against charming women with no homes and dangerous smiles too, I'll have you know." She spoke as she reached up and roughly tugged at the strap under her chin. After a moment of resistance the weak cloth gave way. Only then did she break off holding the woman's hand and remove her helmet carefully with both. Once off she let it drop off to the side with a clank.

"It's not bad, right?" She asked pointing to the minor bird's nest that was her hair. She shook it out a bit and then tucked the brunette curtain behind an ear to reveal her features. "If I'm going to get kidnapped, I would want to look my best. The name is Clara, by the way, since you asked so nicely." A sultry tone and confident swagger hid the gears turning in Clara's head as she started to read between the lines of what she said. She studied the woman's features and checked to see if her suspicions were right.

[Floki]

"My smile isn't half as dangerous as yours," Floki replied, flat teeth bared in a wolfish smile. She merely chuckled at Clara's joke, though her own grin slowly shrank, teeth disappearing behind her lips once again.

"Even if I was inclined to kidnap you, Clara, unfortunately I have no home to take you back to. I haven't been able to make it to meet the Prince yet, and from what I've heard, they're very strict about who has been doing what in Sacramento. Is that why you were traveling so fast on your little steel horse, there? Did you make mama mad?"

Floki reached out, slowly, with her left hand, fingers bound to brush back a few locks of escaping hair.

"You're very beautiful, Clara. You must be a fearsome predator. I could easily see myself having fallen prey to you when I was younger. I'm called Floki, to answer the question you haven't asked. And yes, I would love to be taken for a night on the town, to answer the question you have asked."

[Clara E. Verne]

Clara's smile faltered a little when all doubt was removed about the Predator before her. She pressed her head into the palm of Floki's caressing hand lightly. Nothing. The moment passed and Clara tilted her head to the other side and brought her hand to rest on her hip.

"Flatterer," she chided playfully with an innocent smirk. She chortled at Floki's jape about her mama. "Nope. Not yet!" She walked around the rakish figure while openly eyeing her. "Come along then, if you're going to shower me in compliments. I want to see my latest work." Clara tested her footing in her boots and eyed the wreck just off the side of the road.

"Floki. Flow-key." Clara tasted the name and whispered it to herself with each other step. "I was going fast because I could. I'm talking to you because I haven't decided if you're fun-dangerous or just boring-dangerous like you're Big Bad Brother." Her foot kicked a torn piece off muffler off to the side right as she came up on her motorcycle. "And now I wanna see what it looks like." She crouched low before it. The twisted form of steel, polished chrome, and rubber reflected in Clara's saucer-wide eyes. She blinked.

"You're well-connected," she said confirming Floki's suspicions about the Domain of Sacramento. Steel horse. She had called it a steel horse. "Questions." Still crouched she rested her chin in between her knees and hugged her legs to her body. "Let's not ask the boring ones. Like why you're here or how madly you've fallen for me."

She turned back to Floki and flashed a sweet smile filled with pride. "Do you trust me?" The blue glow of her phone accompanied by the small tones of the touchscreen keyboard was blocked by Clara's crouched form.

[Riks]

Posts from before rollback

"I trust," Flokibegan, slowly stalking over to the other side of the steel horses'carnage, "that one of us will be the scorpion. The other, the frog. Do you know that story?" The foreign kindred knelt down across from Clara, the wreckage lying in-between them.

"There's an older story, from the land where I come from,"Floki continued, reaching out and picking up what was left of the bike's kickstand, a bent metal twig, and began idly drawing in the dirt as she spoke.

"Winter had fallen upon the land, and a wanderer came upon a viper, have frozen in the snow. 'Help me, please', the Viper pleaded. 'Tuck me beneath your shirt so that I might not freeze.'

"'Why, I would help you, but how do I know you won't bite me?' the man asked.

"'Why, because then you would die, and I would freeze,' the snake replied. But, of course, as soon as the man agreed, the viper bit him, and they both died."

Flokifinished her drawing and tossed the bent metal twig aside.

"Most assume that both of these stories have the same moral: that it's in the nature of the wicked to do wicked things. Others say that it's the fool's nature to be too trusting. I say that the scorpion was simply not afraid of death, and that the viper simply wished to take someone with her when she passed."

Standing again, Floki shrugged.

"So, sure. I'll trust you, Clara."

Stories held more truth than any statement that starts with Honestly, You've got to believe me, or I shit you not. Clara listened. She said nothing when Floki finished. She was searching the stranger's eyes. Her phone chirped an update to fill the silence.

An interminable amount of time passed bursting with palpable silence.Clara didn't feel like much needed to be said. She opened her mouth to speak at last but spotted the lumbering form of the taxi she'd called earlier. She stood, dusted at her jeans, and discovered a new tear. She inspected it with vacant curiosity up until the two figures were showered in the glare of the car's headlights.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you baby. As long as you're with me you'll be just fine,"she said with a lazily melodic voice. "And 'cause Clara made that promise, let's have the window tour. Just don't do anything that'd make me have to sting you," she winked to emphasize what could have been a flirt or threat. Definitely a broken promise if followed-through. She turned around and beckoned Floki a second time. She pulled open the door to the backseat and scooted in, leaving the door open for the stranger.

She quickly conveyed instructions to the driver and then shut the darkened partition separating driver from rider. She waited, a little anxiously, to see if Floki would join her. She wondered, a little excitedly, which was the wicked one and which was the fool.

"You know, if we eat the driver, we might be able to talk more freely," Floki replied slowly walking over to stand by Clara.

"Though, I suspect that for one such as you, that would make things far too dull, now, wouldn't it?"

Though they'd never met before, the Kindred across from her seemed familiar. Almost as if she were a collage of familiar fragments, impressions from Kindred who'd left long ago, either of their own volition or because they'd been emptied out of a dust buster.

"I'm curious, Clara," Floki said as the car finally reached them, and she strode forward to pop open one of the doors to the backseat. "About this big bad Mama of yours. Was she ever in Los Angeles in the 80s? Did she ever ride the White Wave, as they liked to call it?"

So. Fun-Dangerous. Clara decided that when Floki casually suggested eating the driver. Self-imposed limitations kept Clara from acting on her darkest of impulses. Floki was dangerous because, just for an instant, Clara thought she was making sense.

Then the stranger didn't press the issue and Clara was inside the car before she had to answer. The most Floki would get was the barest hint of a shrug. "Keep me excited, Floki, or leave my side. I promise you'll love me when I start having fun." Clara turned to look at Floki and bit her lip when she followed her into the car. The barest hint of a fang was visible only from Floki's view.

Clara considered Floki's question concerning, what she assumed to be, the Prince. Usually it was smart to overplay and bluff, though Clara saw no benefit. Honesty then."Mama never told me, though I haven't been on the West Coast long. Only this past year, really. And I don't know what this White Wave is."

The car started to roll towards Clara's directions. The two were separated from the driver by a tinted dark window partition. Clara closed in on Floki, still feeling nothing twisting in her gut. "So. You ask your questions while I ask you." She made sure not to touch Floki but stayed perilously near the other predator. "If I were to touch you, would you feel me?"

Through the subtext of the Masquerade, it was clear Clara was asking about how Floki hid her Beast from Clara.

"I can feel you now, little viper," Floki murmured in return, leaning in towards the fangs hidden behind the other woman's smile. True, there wouldn't be any benefit were there lips to meet, not as there might have been when they were alive, but it was hard to hold back countless nights of carefully honed hunting instincts, even when not around prey.

"I can feel the slide of your scales across my skin," she continued, her eyes meeting Clara's in the dark of the car. "I can feel the gentle kiss of your tongue trying to taste me. But when you're a wanderer such as I, it is far safer to taste, yet not be between another's teeth, don't you think? It's a common trait among my kind. Surely one such as you has encountered it before."

Unless, of course, Clara was merely playing coy.

"But, fair is fair. If you haven't been on this coast long, then does that mean you've sailed upon the seas? Tasted the salt upon the air? Felt the fathomless depths churning beneath your feet? Or did you voyage through the sky upon wings of metal?"

Clara didn't wilt. She swayed with the cars turns, pulling away a little before leaning back towards the stranger. The Bacchante ensured there was (at the very least) a hair's breadth of space between the two.

"Puh-lease. Safe is boring. Tasting is teasing. You'd enjoy resting in my maw. Promise." Floki spoke like a nomad. She could have a coterie tailing them as they spoke. Bleed out Clara a bit between them and move on in the night. This was risky. "And I don't kiss and tell. Not unless the story is really good." Clara interlocked her fingers together and brought them up to support her chin. She then tilted her head to the side and had her eyes go saucer-wide. "But you wouldn't think me capable of such things, would you?"

The way Floki spoke of the seas and flying further emphasized how much of a traveler she was. You can almost smell the wind on her coattails. "Mmm. Neither. I drove. I'm a great driver." Lies. "How long are you here for? You don't strike me as a city-gal."

"You don't play fair, Clara," Floki chided, resisting the urge to reach out and place her had gently upon the back of the vipers neck.

"Two questions in one. Fortunately," the wandered continued, flat teeth bared in a fierce smile, "one question I cannot answer. Even were I to cut out my left eye, the future would be barred from my sight. I can't say how long I'll stay. Until it gets boring, I suppose, or until I get chased out of town. Will you be my getaway driver? Assuming you get a new bike, of course."

Floki laughed, and leaned back. She'd give this one to the viper.

"Now, for your second question, I happen to love the city. I simply enjoy seeing more than one. LA was fun for a decade, but eventually the people started to get stale. That's why I decided to move. Now, for my question: why did you move? Why not seek your fame and fortune in a capitol of the world, rather than just a state?"

"Fair's for fools," she shot back immediately. She craned her neck out; long, slender, and milky pallid. She wondered if Floki felt temptation. It didn't exist if she couldn't tease it out of the woman.

She thought on the question of being a getaway driver and weighed it. Then she responded with casual indifference, "Depends. It'd have to be the best of times. The worst of crimes." She said melodically, likely quoting a song. Then she listened to Floki's latest question.

"Time, Floki. Time lulled me to rest. My Family has a spot nearby. I woke up a little early and Sacramento is the same as L.A." She reached out to caress and slightly muss at Floki's hairdo. "I stopped loving cities a long time ago. I focus on the small because it makes everything else big." Her fingers were thoughtlessly delicate as they ran through Floki's hair. She was feeling out the texture. "Besides, if I were to be famous I'd have to have someone taking care of my body. A body taker? Oh, I'll get the word eventually."

She regarded the rogue for a moment before glancing out the window. "There it is." They were rolling through city streets now, just on the outskirts of Sacramento. Clara would lightly turn Floki's head towards the window. "Welcome to Sacramento. So tell me: like what you see?" Clara's pale blurred reflection flashed across the mirror with passing streetlights and lingered in the dark reprieves in-between. Even through the foggy image there might have been a smile on the ghost woman's face.

Floki didn't recoil from Clara's touch. To be honest, it was somewhat pleasant to feel those dexterous fingers coming through her hair, though when she was sure that Clara would least expect it, Floki whipped her head around clamped her teeth down onto Clara's wrist. Not hard, but enough so that she could feel Floki's teeth, rough and flat against her dead flesh, and then she let go.

"Didn't your mama tell you not to pet wild animals?" Floki teased, bearing those flat teeth again before laughing. "And of course I like what I see. Unless you're talking about the city. If that's the case, then I've hardly looked. It won't have the glitter of LA. It won't have the tapestry of people of Toronto. And it won't have the crime, of either. It's a small playground, but I'm looking forward to playing."

Eyes went wide at surprise but her wrist remained in place. Then a flash of curiosity replaced the shock. Sensation flowed from her wrist. Clara felt something.

She examined the other woman's features and reconfirmed the stillness of the eyes and the sallow skin. This woman was dead. Fangless. The word had been written in one of her Brother's journals. There were Kindred without fangs. This was known to Clara but never seen. Curious. Nonsensical. New.

"Who said I'd be bold enough to disobey mama? I only pet tame ones. Sometimes they just happen to not know they're tamed," she said as she cupped the side of Floki's face with her freed hand. She thought on Floki's assessment of Sacramento. She was a traveler. She sees locations not people. "Sounds like you won't stay long at all," she said as she dropped her hand onto the seat between them. "But you're not here for glitter else you'd have stayed in L.A. And you could care less for tapestry. So, really, my Dame Sombre, have you even found what you want?"

Tame? Is that how Clara saw her? If she had been harboring any insecurities, Floki would have gotten mad, but as it was, she couldn't help but laugh again. If she'd been mortal, her sides would have been hurting. It reminded her of the rare nights spent inside a longhouse filled with laughter and dancing flame.

"Perhaps I am tame. I've gotten to used to convenience. I'll wear a collar, if that will get me some nice kibble and bits. But," Floki explained, reaching out to gently, oh so gently, place two fingers on Clara's neck.

"But, I won't wear a collar. I like new things. If I'm stopped from being able to explore them, well, that's when I get feral. Because for me, the goal is the pursuit. The Journey. What I want cannot be owned, or always even named. What of you, little viper? What do you want?"

Floki suspected that the answer would be much the same as hers. A woman like Clara would be bored by power, and as she'd already said, boredom was what she desperately wished to avoid.

Sacramento sights zipped into and out of view. Floki was checking for an absent pulse. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to reach out and touch Clara. The Bacchante let her head roll to one side and nestled Floki's fingers against her shoulder and neck. The dead woman's fingers still didn't rouse the Beast in Clara.

"I wouldn't have you wear a collar. I was thinking a ribbon. Maybe a dashing tie. Something that could be pulled or undone. Probably with teeth." She chortled mischievously and brought a hand up to cover her mouth to stifle the embarrassing sound. Floki's last question brought a sudden stillness onto Clara. She pulled back from Floki and settled into her side of the taxi. She propped an elbow atop the worn cracked faux-leather and against the cool glass. The dead woman rested her cheek against the palm of her hand. Just on the other side a bug was smeared across the window pane. She was looking out the window for a minute. Then three. Then seven.

Finally when silence filled the senses so completely it felt close to bursting she said, "Oh, nothing really. I don't want much. Woman of simple tastes and all. And nothing's simpler than nothing." She turned to look at Floki and flashed a smirk. "Why, you wanted me to say you?"

Floki laughed, mirroring Clara as she leaned back against the side of the car. The motorized carriage. Far more comfortable than its predecessors...

"I'm under no illusions as to how captivating I am," the wanderer replied, enjoying the opportunity to splay out across from another predator and to let the landscape race on past them, the miles as fleeting as the endless nights she'd spent beneath the stars.

"You, on the other hand, are full of illusions...if you think you could tie cloth about my neck. You have no idea the miles I've tread, nor why I've tread them. Perhaps I'll tell you some night, but you'll have to earn it, little Viper. But I'm curious. What tale have I yet to earn, to tease from your lips? And what price might it cost me?"

Apart and cramped into the backseat of a taxi. Clara listened to the foreigner with feigned disinterest. She pursed her lips and answered, "Why should anything that happened on any other night matter to what you want tonight?"

"And I'm a good girl who tells no lies, least of all to herself. I'd tie a ribbon 'round your neck. And you'd like it. See? No lies." She shrugged at Floki's insinuation that the stranger had more to tell. The gesture was noncommittally dismissive. She pressed her form into the stretched leather of her side of the cab and burrowed a dip in the seat with her shoulders and back. She was half-thinking of taking the newcomer's inquiry seriously.

"You want a story?" Clara gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes and a huffy sigh. Then her face lit up with inspiration. "I want to see your mouth. Feel inside it with my fingers too." She said it in the same manner a daughter might ask a parent for a toy. Then her mood shifted to sultry and confident. "That's my price. And you get a story with a bittersweet ending. Fair? Fair." She grinned. Her demeanor and expression were clear: this was non-negotiable. "Now say ah..." she intoned as she slid over to Floki's side expectantly.

She kept her hands to herself, but only just barely.

Clara's insistence on Floki liking her collar was needling something in the Shadow's back. By Blood, she could make it so. Perhaps this was even her warning that it was coming. Perhaps the finger inside her mouth would carry the first drop of blood.

Perhaps...

Nevertheless, her way was not the way of the coward, plagued by her own fears. She crossed an ocean to a new land. She had flown high above the earth in a bird of metal. Hers was the path of the voyager, and with every voyage came risk.

"Just know that I will bite, should I feel the urge to," Floki warned before leaning forward and opening her mouth, those flat teeth on display, tongue flat against the bottom of her mouth.

"Earlier you told me the dangers of petting wild animals. Were you warning me or tempting me?" Clara leaned in and focused her senses on the flat set of teeth. She caught the whiff of vodka on Floki's tongue. Not Blood laced with the liquor, but trace amounts of it splashed onto her mouth. Her nose crinkled a little but the main thing that caught her eye was a novelty: No fangs.

As she confirmed her suspicions with her eyes Clara audibly gasped. "You're...so--" her trembling fingers reached up and teased at entering the open maw; just in front, but not inside. Instead they slid under Floki's chin and curved against her jaw to caress the woman's cheek. She let her head drop. Her hair fell into a half-curtain the obscured her features. "You asked for a story. How about the Magpie rhyme?" Her thumb pressed light circles around the corner of Floki's mouth.

"One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy...
Five for silver,
Six for Gold.
And seven for a secret,
Never to be told
Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss.
Ten for a bird
You must not miss"

Clara recited the nursery rhyme in a light sing-song voice with the reverence of remembrance. She raised her features and smiled at Floki. "Quite useful. They are common 'round these parts. Fair trade?" She asked, obviously thinking the trade was fair. "You count out the magpies and now you'll know what to expect. That's my tale, and the bittersweet fate of knowing what's to come will be my gift to you." She chortled a little, clearly having fun. "I can't believe you did that! You're. You're just."

She leaned against the upholstery. "Mm. There's a French word for it but you Americans have ruined it." Clara was now observing Floki intently and wondered what else made this stranger special. "I haven't met anyone--well, with. Ya know, without." She thumbed at her own retracted fang to spell out her statement.

[Floki]

Clara's rhyme had been arcane, full of nonsense that was anything but. A riddle, to be sure, though Floki was sure she would not be able to solve it on her own. Perhaps she would have to consult the most powerful mystic of the age, the wisest, and wealthiest of them all: Google.

But, for another time. At the moment, Floki couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll trade you a song for a song, little Viper, for I am not American."

Still laughing, the voyager threw her head back, and began to howl out her own song, a sudden vitality eclipsing her lack of talent.

"Ah-ah, ah!
Ah-ah, ah!
I come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow!
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands
To fight the horde, and sing and cry
Valhalla, I am coming!
On we sweep with threshing oar
My only goal will be the western shore!"

She cut off the song with the last verse, her body shaking with muted laughter.

[Clara E. Verne]

Clara clapped the famous song's drumbeat in this impromptu Karaoke session. The lone fan to Floki's rendition brought her tempo up to an applause and laughed. It was hard to tell what she was laughing at, it being Clara and all. "I know that one!" She said excitedly.

She then looked out the rear windshield and observed everything they were leaving behind. "It's Immigrant Song, yes?" She asked aloud as she recalled the memories certain melodies call to mind. "A midnight sun," Clara murmured. All at once she turned to flash Floki a grimace of amusement that her pouty lips shaped into an almost-smirk.

"Ya know, being on the receiving end of a song feels like I'm getting cheated," she admitted. The taxi meter continued to run and the hour weaned off into another. "We're almost done with the Sacramento tour I promised you. Have you been paying attention?" Clara asked with no small satisfaction.