Obsidian Rose Pin Granting VIP Access To The Black Rose
Dr Van Helsing's Party Favor
Blood Dagger commemorating the Bloodletting 2 Year Anniversary
Black Masquerade Silver Mask ~ Best Guesser 2008
Black Masquerade Silver Rose ~ Participant 2008
Minion Horde Raiding Party Leader
I love my Minion Raiding Party, but not all at once
My Minion Raiding party broke your nose
My Minion Raiding Party won't come back
My Minion Raiding Party stole all my clothes
Bloodletting Awards '09 Figurine - Best Vampire
Silver Goblet Commemorating Ringing in 2010 with Bloodletting.org
I got fooled on April Fools Day
Dracula scared the $@&% out of me this Halloween, 2010
Golden Goblet Commemorating Ringing in 2011 with Bloodletting.org
I survived the great Bloodout of 2011...with only minor withdrawal symptoms
Ruby hilted Sword commemorating the Bloodletting 5 Year Anniversary
DemonClaus granted my Holiday Wishes on Bloodletting in 2011
Limited Edition DemonKnight Trading Card for 6 Year Anniversary
Best RP October 2012
I roamed the realm on Christmas Day 2012
Santa put me on the Nice list just to piss me off!
Most Missed Crew 2012
Best RP January 2014
Winter Bloodies 2013 - Most Envied
Winter Bloodies 2013 - Best Role Play
She lets out a small chuckle as the more petite woman wraps her up in a bear hug. It's one that is warmly and genuinely returned by Sam. She squeezes tightly and even plants a big, wet, kiss on the side of her cheek. Tears threaten to spill over her lower lids, but she blinks a few times to keep them at bay. Tough girls don't cry! "I think you're going to be stuck with me for a long, long, time, Mackenzie."
Finally she releases the other woman, a smile glued to her face as she takes a step back. "I really freakin' missed you, Paddy. You realize I've had nobody to go cause trouble with, don't you?" And the trouble those two used to cause together could have been things of legends.
Sam shrugged. She didn't really know what else to do at the moment. The air between the two was thick. Palpable with tension. In a fight or flight situation it might have been enough to make the fox run for cover, but she wasn't scared of Mackenzie. She just didn't know what to say that would break the awkward between them. "Yeah, I'm alive. I sort of disappeared for awhile, I guess. Now I'm just here, trying to make sense of sh*t, you know?"
Even though the movement of both stayed stagnant, it somehow seemed to grow with each passing moment as they sized eachother up. There was something...different...about her old friend, though Sam couldn't put her finger on it. "Trying to get my shop back in operation right now. It's harder than I thought it would be, being here."
Even though they hadn't seen one another in years, Sam still had no trouble being honest with Mackenzie.
Finally she let out a long, deep sigh. The exhale of air doing it's best to lift the fog between them. "Oh, Hell, Mack. I'm not going to bite. As long as you don't." She grinned, mischievous and friendly in the way only a fox can.
Attention turned to the task at hand, Sam didn't hear the footsteps of the woman that came up behind her. Motor oil and dirt covered the scent at fingers worked twisting and tuning until she heard that lilt of accent. It was more delicate and feminine than the other brogue she was used to. But when it did hit her ears, she immediately stopped what she was doing and turned towards one of her oldest friends.
A slow, long, breath was pushed through her lungs and mouth as hands absentmindedly wiped themselves on dirty jeans. Muscles flexed under sweaty, tattoo decorated, arms. There were a lot of emotions that passed through her and at first she didn't react. Fear. Agitation. Adoration. Longing. She'd never wanted to hit or hug a person so much in her life. But, Sam had been given a second chance, through some unknown power. She wasn't about to let the past cloud the future.
For now, a smile spread slow on full lips and she pushed a stray hair away from her sticky forehead. "What's new, Paddy?" the old nickname coming easy. It was Mac. And that little spot in Sam's heart that was reserved for the woman would never...could never...go away.
The quiet female tentatively approached Mackenzie's door, leaving a small, festive basket outside of it. Inside the basket was a tiny letter reading 'Congratulations!' in golden, printed lettering, along with chocolate truffles and small bottles of whiskey that could probably be downed in a few, easy-going gulps. Nodding, satisfied with herself, she scurried away once more, hoping that the stronger slayer would enjoy the little gift.
"And who could say no to that, hmm?" Jasper reached out to take the bottle, but stopped short as it was pulled away. His eyes searched her face, a brow quirking at the all too familiar expression he found there, but he was soon rolling his eyes and laughing. Extending his hand a bit further, he snatched the drink with a smirk. "I'll be the judge of that. You've always been a pansy when it came to drinking." Offering a sly wink and a chuckle, he raised the bottle to her in a silent toast and took a swig.
As expected, especially from Mackenzie, it was strong. And good. Before handing it back, he took another generous gulp, enjoying the burn. "Hell, that might even be too much for you."
He didn't notice her presence until she was right in front of him. Hazel hues took in the smile of greeting on her face, and his expression soon matched her own, the grin only widening as he noticed her offering. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. And you too, Mack."
Dessa quirked an eyebrow at Mackenzie, doing her best to look bemused, like she couldn't understand why she was being spoken to. It barely lasted five seconds before she let out a bubble of laughter, "I kinda like the sound of that...Might have to demand everyone start calling me Master now.
I'm glad you're here though, I can put you to work!" Dessa winked, clearly teasing back. She was glad Mack was there though, despite the circumstances. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being in the presence of the Irish woman who played a huge part in getting her where she was today.
'Produced by the only independent distillery in Ireland, this Cooley product enters the top 10 whiskey brands primarily because of the benefits provided by 200-year old granite warehouses that result in that distinctly Irish blend. The whiskey is distilled in 3,000 liter copper pots before it is placed into bourbon casks where it will be allowed to mature to enhance its taste, flavor, and smell...'
Ransom smirked. It was good enough for her, and she believed it to be an ample gift for the femme she'd never met. She'd heard wonderful things of her though, from Jasper, and that was good enough. Jasper didn't hold those close who didn't seem to matter. Wrapping the bottle in appropriate Irish green paper, curling golden ribbons around the top for a finishing touch, she approached the location Jasper told her to leave it. She left it with a bartender whom could be trusted at a small place Mackenzie seemed to frequent. With specific orders, and a slight threat of death and destruction from Ransom, she left the bottle. Firmly nodding, she twisted in her combat boots and left, having left a small card with the gift. Scripted into the inside, she'd written a small message:
Hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed retrieving it for you. Take a shot for me, and Jasp as well.
It had been so long since Jasper had spoken to his former Irish Leader, and he found himself missing the small femme. With a smirk and a bottle of whiskey in his hand, he roamed around one of her old, familiar haunts, calling out softly:
"Oh, Captain my Captain. Come have a drink with me..."
*Dannica had barely been paying attention when she opened the door to her office, her mind focused on the competitive word game on her phone. It wasn't until the toe of her black leather boot kicked something that her eyes shifted to the floor, and then slowly up to the ceiling. Her eyes widened in amazement and her mouth dropped open just a bit.*
Holy St. Patrick's Day!
*She looked around, slightly bewildered, wondering if anybody else in the catacombs would even be able to hear her if she called. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this? With only slight hesitancy, she reached out and pulled a bottle from the neatly stacked row. Jenga anyone? Nothing moved. Then with a shrug, she opened it and took a swig, turning around to retreat into her office. Someone would find her...eventually.*
She couldn't believe her eyes as she roamed the halls looking for the next person to save from the boredom of being locked away in the dungeon. She never even hid anymore when she came around these parts. Rarely was she ever thrown behind bars for her actions because she wouldn't be there long. Before her was the big bad Mackenzie locked away in a cell, and for some reason, it just wouldn't feel right to leave her there. Elisa pulled a bobby pin out of her hair, and quickly and quietly unlocked the cell. "Pleasure to see you again, Mack." She smiled and offered her former leader her pin for next time she found herself stuck.
The veteran slayer was no stranger to New York; his first few footsteps on the lifestyle forced upon him had been spent in the Big Apple, learning from the most experienced slayer at the time. How far he had come since those days.
New York was no longer strictly a slayer city, of course, the vampiress Mackenzie had started up some sort of lair for bloodsuckers and those affiliated with them in her home city, and he held a level of respect for what some could view as his most powerful enemy.
Straying near the Sine Metu headquarters, possibly against his better judgement, Mordent could have sworn he heard his name carried on the wind. The voice was familiar, an unlikely occurrence in a city so far from his own interests. Moving at street level towards where his keen ears had caught the musical tone, he felt both uneasy and comfortable at the same time... as if he shouldn't be here, but no harm would come of it. Some would call it arrogance, he called it a sense of adventure.
*Dannica stares at her former confidante Mackenzie as she wanders the Realm in her shiny new gold robes. With a tiny glint in her eyes, she runs up behind her pouring purple paint all down the front of the tiny Irish girls outfit. Then, before she can turn and retaliate, she reaches into her bag and pulls out two large handfuls of sparkling purple glitter. With a giggle she tosses it over the paint and runs away.*