Shadow Of Her Former Self
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December 27th, 2009
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| It should have been elementary, should have been easy to figure out, but this new world had turned her around until Bethany could no longer tell what was and wasn’t, it had taken the reality of the moment such as it was for Bethany to latch onto a part of herself that had been caged, shackled by confusion and lost in doubt. All it had taken was for her fingers to curl around the woman’s neck, blunt tips of nails digging into skin leaving traces of crescent shaped moons behind, and the desperate scramble for air for Bethany to realise that it wasn’t a matter of biding her time. It was about seizing the day, putting an end to all of this and shutting the girl's mouth once and for all. She'd barely even blinked as the girl had finally slipped, disregarding her plea filled eyes in favour of squeezing the last remnants of life from her. It was too easy, it always was, especially as she had no attachment to the girl. ( Vanishing Act ) | ||||||||||
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coldDecember 13th, 2009
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| Bethany had come to the conclusion that the sooner she remedied this… work situation the better, it was currently unacceptable and she was a hairsbreadth away from putting the nearest sharp implement through the eye of her co-worker who had no brain to mouth filter. What kept her from giving in to that impulse was the reminder that rent was due and as ridiculously expensive as it was it was still the roof over her head. Bethany was in no lifetime - even one as shitty as this - being homeless and on the streets. Currently Bethany was finishing up her shift, glancing at the clock out of the corner of her eye before smoothing back a strand of hair, feeling the frustration build as time seemed to drag on forever. Of course having nothing much to do was good for one thing: getting a read of her co-workers and more importantly the so-called friend that had stolen the promotion and was currently doing the manager. If this had been another place and another time, Bethany would have respected the girl for going after what she wanted, but as it directly impacted on Bethany’s life Bethany held the woman in nothing but contempt. She took a moment to count her tips and smiled at the amount, obviously the flirting had paid off in just the way she expected. Maybe just maybe she’d be able to afford a pair of boots soon. The mere idea that she had to save up for one pair of boots was… sickening and vomit inducing, but it wouldn’t be for long, this much Bethany was sure of. ( Making Life Better ) | ||||||||||
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determinedNovember 19th, 2009
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| It was only when Bethany was halfway through her spontaneous bonfire that she realised that if she burnt everything in the wardrobe then she would quite literally have nothing to wear. Frantically she stamped out the lingering flames and did her best to dose the ever growing fire. It was only when she regarded a blackened piece of ruined denim that she felt her mood darken, not for the first time on this day. Bethany's eyes cut to the ruined clothing in front of her and grimaced faintly as she came to the conclusion that she was in fact going to have to wear what was left of this woman's wardrobe. God help her. ( Off To Work ) | ||||||||||
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blahNovember 15th, 2009
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| The first thing to wake Bethany Richards was the cut of sunlight over a previously scarred piece of skin and the second was the dawning realisation that all wasn't right with the world. Firstly, she was lying in cotton sheets beneath a cracked ceiling. Secondly, there was a mass of pink as far as the eye could see. And thirdly not only was her hair in pigtails but it had bows in it, pink bows at that. Initially the confusion over where she was filled every inch of her mind with questions until memories overwhelmed them. This place, this body, it was her and yet not. She had her own memories, the tangible ones of being pregnant and together with Darian, but she also had new ones. They were disorientating and on occasion blinding, almost as if she was in some sort of waking dream and she couldn't escape. To gain some control and equilibrium Bethany ripped away the bows and allowed the long strands some much needed freedom, moving from bed a mere second later. Her strides took her into a miniscule bathroom and a hand groped blindly for the nearby cord to bathe the area in a yellow light, allowing her a moment to regard herself. ( Will Not Do ) | ||||||||||
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pissed offOctober 31st, 2009
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calmJuly 22nd, 2009
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June 8th, 2009
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| "Are you telling me that you consort with demons?" "Duh," the girl drawled with a snap of bubblegum a few moments later. "I dunno what century you're from, but vampires are the hottest thing since..." Her voice trailed off and she looked at her friends. "Justin Timberlake!" The brunette in the short skirt and with the incessant chewing and snapping of gum grinned from ear to ear. "Oh yeah, he's hot! Like super hot!" Bethany's head tilted and her eyebrow lifted. "So, you would die for these vampires of yours?" "Yeah, of course." The girl stuck out her chin and looked Bethany square in the eye. "Why? You gonna do me in, blondie?" It took less than a second for Bethany's blade to cut through the air and leave a permanent mark across the girl's throat, causing her to grapple for the cut and the resulting blood loss. "Yes, in fact, I am." Then she lifted her head and allowed her lips a momentary curl of pleasure as she took to finishing off the rest of the group. There was a heavy price to pay for consorting with demons and Bethany was not afraid of bringing justice to those that deserved it. It wasn't as if these girls would be missed, not if their attire was anything to go on. | ||||||||||
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May 18th, 2009
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| On Sunday morning in Darian's condominium, vertical blinds sliced the eastern light into ribbons. The decor was neutral: white, black, beige, wooden floors. Everything clean and in its place, because he didn't own much. He didn't spend time there. The only concessions to the arts were bookshelves lined with hardbacks and two enormous paintings, one in the pre-Raphaelite style, another an impressionist's work. The bed was a rumpled twist of sheets. An empty bottle of wine and two glasses crowded a nightstand. He took a shirt and pants out of the closet and hung them on the bathroom door. The water ran noisily in the sink. He walked in and stood behind the blonde at the mirror. One hand went to either side of her, hemming her in. "You smell like me." Darian's face pressed into her neck and he breathed her in through his mouth and nose. It was a sweet and primitively possessive experience, to catch his scent on his lover's body, to find evidence of himself that stretched beyond his memories of having her. Sweeping her hair to the right, he kissed her shoulder. ( Morning Rituals ) ( Appreciation (Adult Content: Sexuality) ) | ||||||||||
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April 13th, 2009
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| Given recent events -- mainly her fight with that Slayer a month ago and the entire fiasco surrounding Faith Lehane being in prison -- Thea found herself curious as to just what it was Slayers were and did. She knew some of the basics ... superpowers, fast healing, an innate hatred of all things demonic and undead ... but despite everything Grace told her, Thea wanted a Slayer's perspective. How did the demon fighters operate? What made some Girl Scout goody-goodies, while others operated strip clubs and went to jail for murder? Inquiring minds wanted to know; Thea thought she probably should've asked Rose during their last sit-down, but the subject never came up. Thea could think of only one Slayer she could turn to for answers who wouldn't automatically turn her into a pile of dust; sure, Faith Lehane had been imprisoned for murder, but Thea remembered how righteous she seemed to be in their lone encounter. A Slayer put away for murder and palling around with a neutered vampire like Avery ... the vampiress figured whatever oversaw Slayers wouldn't be too happy with her. Remembering her first encounter with Bethany, Thea decided she was probably her best bet. Wearing an inconspicuous gray hoodie and a relatively new pair of jeans she's swiped from a JC Penney after-hours, the vampiress walked into Devil's Own, giving the bouncer at the door a wink and a smile on her way by. Wandering through the patrons and smirking at the dance moves on-stage, Thea sauntered to the bar, ordering a Bloody Mary, extra blood. ( Got A Date? ) ( Bit Pervy ) | ||||||||||
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contemplativeApril 5th, 2009
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| There were some things that Bethany Richards considered unacceptable above all others: one of these was stealing from her and then lying about it to her face. A dancer who went by the stage-name of 'Gold Dust' had been doing exactly that, helping herself to money out of the tills courtesy of a stupid boy behind the bar. The boy had already been taken care of, he wouldn't be seen in the club again. There was just 'Gold Dust' to attend to. Bethany would do it herself. She waited until the girl's shift was over and then caught her shoulder, sliding her fingers to curl persuasively in the young woman's collar. "Hilary, could I have a word with you? In private?" ( Game Of Chance ) | ||||||||||
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March 9th, 2009
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| Bethany had drawn Ralphael aside a few days earlier, instructing him to keep his eye on the dancers, Juliet in particular given the snippet of information Victoria had passed along to her. If her friend was right then not all was what it seemed with the young dancer and Bethany would be damned if she let something like that happen right under her nose. Ralphael was nothing if not loyal to her, Bethany knew she could trust him to do what she had asked. She turned away from the club and settled in front of her laptop, tilting her head ever so slightly at the latest breaking news about one Faith Lehane. Karma's a bitch, isn't it? Bethany had no sympathy for her fellow Slayer's plight, figuring she'd had it coming and she wished she could meet the genius behind the idea. Bethany admired flawless execution. She ran the manicured tips of her fingers over her keyboard and closed everything down, amused by the turn of events. What did people say about good intentions? Bethany pulled out her phone and slid it open, keying in young Jessica's number. It rang and rang until a message played and Bethany bit her red lower lip lip. "Jessica, it's Bethany. You really should check the news, I think you'll like it." A slight pause as she tilted her head and watched a dancer moving around the pole of the nearby stage. "Oh, did I forget to mention that I need you for a whole night this coming weekend? Be sure to dress for the occasion, the occasion being a night out on the town." She closed down her phone and breathed out slowly, straightening her back and turning on the pinprick of her elongated heels. There was work to be done. | ||||||||||
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February 21st, 2009
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| Her blood was pumping, the atmosphere in the air was electric, and Bethany was sure she could feel every single one of her nerve endings. There had been blows exchanged, bruises left, floor marred and breathing staggered. It was addictive and she couldn't seem to get enough, twisting her blades in her hands until the razor sharp tips had sliced through precious flesh and into bone. Her opponent cried out and then writhed, a slow smile lifted her lips and curled her expression into a visage of twisted pleasure. It wouldn't be hard to tell that the blonde in the ring enjoyed pain and inflicting it on others, not with the way she delivered blows that were precise and calculated, guaranteed to make any man or monster scream. A short tug on two silver hilts and the blades were removed, a splattering of yellow blood hit the walls and stained the floor. Blood that was shortly spread as the monster slid and fell, hitting the ground harder than it had when it had flung Bethany into the side of the ring. It wasn't moving whereas the Slayer above it was still standing, breathing harder than she had before the match had begun, but she was standing and that was all that mattered. Bethany tilted her head at her opponent then lifted her eyes, regarding the crowd from beneath a haze of blood that had leaked from a cut to her eyebrow and onto her eyelashes. It was upon the roar of the crowd that she delivered that final killing blow, the one that ceased the creature's movements and allowed its heavy weight to meet fully with the ground. The crowd went mad and the Slayer's arm was lifted, declaring her the winner. She smiled slowly and merely turned to the side, spitting blood out before she rolled her neck and cleaned her blades off on her pants. One fight down for the evening, only another couple to go. | ||||||||||
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hungryJanuary 13th, 2009
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| Added independence, in Victoria Foxworth's case, seemed to be having mixed results. she could remember having all sorts of plans for the future, after finally getting turned. A central advantage to her state of existence, of course, being that there was no such thing as getting 'too old' and wanting to turn back time, when some venture or the other did not plan out. Who would have thought, though, that so much glaring publicity and acceptance of her kind, would actually lead to so many problems? The wall coming down had put a real downer on things, for her. While Victoria was not the type to want to take over the world, go out seeking fights or create some sort of empire, she was feeling increasingly disempowered, these days. After having run a nightclub in LA, a rather unique entertainment venue in Las Vegas and made several films, finally getting around to finishing her book seemed like a good intellectual exercise, although was leaving her less satisfied than her more artistic ventures. Still, without Deanna or Star around, the vampiress was socially listless. Unfortunately, she also had yet to actually make any new friends. An old one, however, Bethany Richards, had made a mark in this place and, following a telephone conversation, the undead brunette decided it might be for the best to meet the girl in a social setting. If things had turned out a little differently, a few nights ago, she might potentially have not even been there. Facing one's own mortality was not something a vampire often had to do. Being social was exactly what Bethany needed, especially with the hours spent running her business and smacking some sense into her accountant who couldn't seem to keep the books straight. She couldn't recall the last time she had actually held a conversation with somebody outside of her club and it was a little... wearing to be completely honest. Bethany dressed to impress including a set of killer stiletto heels that would have made a lesser woman strip them off mere minutes after walking a few steps in them. A phone call from Victoria had been a welcomed relief even if there was something in her old friend's voice that led Bethany to believe that all was not well with the vampiress. The car she was in drew up outside of a small restaurant slash bar type venue that was quiet and secluded, the sort of place you went if you wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city nightlife. Bethany spoke to Ralphael in low tones before ushering him away, sliding the strap of her purse over her shoulder before she opened the door. Almost instantly she was greeted at the door and Bethany shared the name of who she was there to meet. "Ah, right this way." The Slayer allowed the gentleman to lead the way into the restaurant area and she followed him, briefly assessing her surroundings before allowing herself to relax into them. ( Talk To Me... ) ( Options ) ( So Together ) | ||||||||||
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December 30th, 2008
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| Bethany had been out of action for a few weeks given that she'd broken a bone in a very uncomfortable awkward position, but her bone had healed and she was back up to full strength. Something she took no time in proving to an overly handsy customer, she had him on his knees with his wrist clasped between her slender fingers. "How many times do I have to tell you? There's no touching." She twisted and smiled as he screamed out in pain then she eyed his friend who was torn between diving in and keeping back, not wanting to be on the receiving end of something. Bethany tilted her head to regard the gentleman currently at her mercy through her long blonde hair. "Now, tell me again, why did you think it was acceptable to touch?" The red stiletto heels shifted ever so slightly as Bethany leaned closer, head poised for his ever insightful answer. He didn't have one, all he could do was stumble over half arsed excuses and beg. Bethany rolled her eyes and curled her fingers until the tips of her nails were pressing into the skin across his wrist. She tightened and then twisted her grip, listening to the satisfying sound of something breaking before smiling through his cries of pain. "Wrong answer," she purred softly as she held him upright by his now very broken wrist before merely dropping it and him to the ground. The Slayer eyed the man writhing in pain and stepped closer, putting her foot into his side to roll him onto his back before sliding the very sharp tip of her heel across his throat. "If I ever see your face in my club again I will not hesitate to kill you, are we clear?" All he could do was nod, which was good enough answer for Bethany. "Get them out of here," she muttered to the nearby security. "I don't ever want to see them in my club ever again. If they get past you?" Bethany turned her head and regarded the door staff. "It'll be your heads on the chopping blocks." She then smiled away the malice and turned on her heel, disappearing back into the crowd as she continued her movements through the club itself. God, it was good to be back. | ||||||||||
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November 30th, 2008
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| Bethany regarded her reflection in the mirror and her brow furrowed as she took in the length of bruising down her neck and subsequent marks along her collarbone. The bitch of a vampire had tried to take her head off but thanks to an uncanny knowledge of how to move Bethany had somehow survived the encounter. It was broken, the doctor had said as much. The next couple of days or weeks would be interesting given that she was basically reliant on somebody else to help her with dressing. She ran her finger beneath the tight white bandage that supported and prevented her right arm from movement, adjusting it so it wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been. The Slayer turned on her bare heel and helped herself to another handful of prescribed painkillers, throwing them back and swallowing them without so much as a glass of water. She reached up and let her hair down, moving over to the bed where she laid back and closed her eyes. | ||||||||||
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October 5th, 2008
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| A quiet morning before what would only be a crazy hectic evening, the club was silent aside from the pitter patter of Bethany's bare feet across smooth surface. She'd left her heels off, tucked beneath her desk and there for later. The building was protected thanks to Oliver but the safe - the heart of the place - was not. Bethany knew this and it was one of the reasons why she'd called Purity's old number in the hopes the witch hadn't changed her number. She hadn't. Bethany's message was simple, it asked Purity to meet her at the location of her new club and told her brief details of what the Slayer needed. She didn't give away too much, never did over the phone, you never knew who might be listening. Paranoid? Maybe. She wandered into her office and turned over the papers on her desk, wondering how she had managed to accumulate so much of it so soon after opening her club. There was nobody else outside or inside the club, just Bethany and the quiet. The voicemail from Bethany had startled Purity, albeit ever so slightly. Enough though to make the witch listen to it twice to make sure it really was the Slayer. Of course it was, the dark witch would recognise that voice anywhere. Yet still... They hadn't seen each other in well over a year. Not thinking too much on it, Purity decided to follow the directions the Slayer gave her once she had finished her shift at Thoth's Library. It didn't take long, of course, her long legs had a way of getting her from place to place rather quickly. Pausing outside the building, the witch tested the door. It moved slightly, and she pushed through the opening quietly. "Anyone around?" It was called out easily as the witch walked into the building. Easily spotted in her black pants, white shirt and simple black tie. ( Familiar And Yet Not ) ( Oh Honey ) | ||||||||||
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October 4th, 2008
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| Bethany took a considering look around herself and slipped her red nails along the inside of the lapels of the suit jacket that perfectly hugged her narrowing waist and shapely hips. She stole a glance at her personal guard who had sat herself rather awkwardly on the individual leather chair and Bethany smirked. "I don't bite, you know?" Well, to be honest, she did. Not that Jessica knew that. Bethany turned her head and looked at the door, wondering if anybody would come or if this venture would be an absolute flop. She certainly hoped not and couldn't imagine how it would be, most men were... predictable creatures. Her stiletto heel on her right foot swung back and forth restlessly as Bethany waited for the clock to strike the required hour and the club could open, for better or for worse. The air was electric and the waiting was suffocating, Bethany could practically feel the weight of it. She let out a slow breath and tipped her head into her hand, tapping her nails against her scalp restlessly. God, she hated waiting. She licked her lower lip and tasted lipstick, drawing it between her teeth and holding it there. As far as she knew everything was in place, the girls knew what they were doing, the security worked well as a team and various special invites had been sent out to those that mattered. This would be a success, it had to be. Jessica turned her head from where she had been watching the door and made an effort to relax a little, rolling her shoulders and sitting back into the chair, letting the leather swallow her instead of sitting straight as if she had a steel rod up her spine. She offered Bethany a small smile and then shifted on the seat, fiddling with the collar of her jacket. She had never worn anything this close fitting before, or this expensive. The tailor she had visited had been so precise, he'd even made sure that she had a surplus of bras. Jessica had stared at them at first because they were all so... well, not what she was used to, even being in this place. She shifted and then stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankle and watching Bethany carefully, the woman was as restless as Jessica felt. She didn't like waiting, the anticipation that settled in the pit of her stomach was an uncomfortable feeling. "I'd hope not," she answered with another smile, making an obvious attempt to be more at ease with her employer. She supposed that if they were going to be working together, she should definitely need to talk to her on a more personable level other than superficial conversation. That was what it was to work for someone, right? To have a good, successful working relationship? She wet her lower lip and then glanced at the door. She refrained from stating the obvious about the club opening and instead decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since she fought Bethany for her interview. "How come you aren't out fighting monsters like the other slayers I've met?" She knew Bethany had, in her words, chosen to follow a different path, but Jessica was curious. ( Small Talk ) ( Not Pushing ) | ||||||||||
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September 20th, 2008
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| The club was nearly ready for opening night. All Bethany needed was her own personal guard and protection for both her club and safe, Oliver would take care of the club but the safe? Well Bethany wanted that done by somebody she trusted. She knew who to call and intended to as soon as she was done with Oliver. All in good time, one step at a time. She glanced at her watch and turned her head, looking over at Ralphael. "Is that time correct?" Ralphael nodded his head. "It is." Bethany made a considering noise and folded her arms across her chest, tapping manicured nails against the expensive material that wrapped her biceps. "He should be soon here if not sooner." She stepped out of her office, heels clicking against the pitch black floor. "I cannot wait to get this club open." She hated waiting, she always had. Her newly employed security staff were on the door, all six foot four of them. She had picked the best of what Chicago had to offer and had provided them with only the best of uniforms, well fitted and complimenting suits. Nobody would get into the club without going through them first. Blonde hair was sent cascading over one shoulder as Bethany's head turned towards the door, eyebrow lifting as she was told there was somebody there to see her. Oliver supposed he'd showed up under protest, but he had showed up. Out of curiosity, if nothing else. He was going to have to talk to the Burke woman, see who else she might have bandied his name about to. The spellcaster, who stood six two in his socks, paused when one of the bouncers approached him, and he raised one dark eyebrow before the left corner of his mouth curved up into a sardonic smile. "I'm here to see Ms. Richards," he said, hoping he gave off the impression that if this yard ape touched him, he was going to wake up with his testicles attached permanently to his forehead. He knew he looked sloppy, but one thing he didn't tolerate was having his person interfered with by a man with no visible neck. No Neck went and spoke to the elegant blonde who stood outside of what was probably the main office of the club. Oliver tucked his hands into his pockets, started across the floor. "Ms. Richards?" he inquired with a faint incline of his head. "Oliver Jerzyck. Apologies for any delay. I was attending to a family matter." ( What Are You Interested In? ) | ||||||||||
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accomplishedAugust 23rd, 2008
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| Beth was stood in the middle of her newly tiled floor, hands clasped behind her back and head tipped to one side. "Let me hear it." The club was silent until a second later a sudden volume of music filled the depths of it, shaking the floor beneath Bethany's heels. She smiled and nodded her head. "Good, very good." She turned and caught hold of Ralphael by the collar. "I expect the dressing rooms to be up to code by the end of the week, is that understood?" Ralphael nodded his head. "Yes, it's understood. What do you want me to do with the uniforms?" Bethany rolled her eyes. "Give them out, what else?" And with that said she released Ralphael and headed towards her office, pleased with the fact that all the work on it had be done. It wouldn't be long until she was open for business. | ||||||||||
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August 20th, 2008
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| ( Voicemail for Oliver ) ( Voicemail for Darian ) | ||||||||||
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Shadow Of Her Former Self
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