Vitam et Mortem IC - The Heat & Other Non-Magic Philly Locations

Calvin Holman

"I am good to go if you are." Calvin laughed. He was hopeful, she seemed coherent enough and all the up close and personal dancing had told him all he needed to know about the little tattoo artist walking beside him.

He'd lead the way, his hand entwined with hers. "Glad you think so," he'd laugh but it was a little forced. He didn't feel like a nice guy, but here was an attractive girl who was actually into him.

Pausing, there in the middle of the sidewalk, he'd stop and lean down to press a warm, soft kiss upon her lips, if she would let him.
 
Beatrix

Trix swung their hands as they walked, occasionally glancing up to look at her hottie companion. He was something else, this one. He was killer attractive, didn't mind holding her hand, cared about her safety. There just had to be something wrong with him. Maybe he was gay? Dear God, she hoped not because she was going to be severely let down tonight if that was the case.

When he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk without notice, she kept going but her grip on Calvin's hand pulled her back, and she turned to him. Her chin tilted up, eyes met his questioningly before closing as his warm lips came down on hers. She kissed him back, breath hitching in her chest. Definitely not gay.
 
Calvin Holman

She tasted like liquor and something sweet, a mixture that had him pulling her close. He'd let her go, though, giving her a softer, more chaste peck on the lips.

He was suddenly eager to get her back to his apartment and in one swift motion, he'd scoop up his date for the evening, bridal style, and with no apparent effort carry her the rest of the way. Planting the occasional kiss on her lips. It was a little cavemen, maybe a bit aggressive, but he was sweet about it. Beside, "Don't want your feet too sore." He would murmur, voice low in her ear.

When they arrived at his apartment, he'd put her down while they ride the elevator up to the fourth floor, leading her gently down the hallway to his apartment by the hand when the does had opened.

He was shy about opening his apartment to her. It was... pretty bare, but fairly clean. No dining table, but he did have a couch and a computer desk, a small laptop open but asleep on the table. Just inside the door, he'd kiss her again; warm, inviting, and just a little insistent before he would release her to give her a chance to look around.
 
Trix

A smile curled the corners of Trix's lips when Calvin pulled away and returned for one more peck. She wanted to catch his lip with her teeth but maybe it was too soon. She was about to pull away when her companion ducked, slid an arm under her legs and lifted her. Gasping, she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on, though he felt very secure in his grip, and she found herself throwing her head back and laughing out loud at these shenanigans. No one had ever picked her up before...surprisingly, considering the number of men she'd dated, and it was nice to have someone pay so much close attention to her for once. Even for just this one evening.

When she was set on her feet at his apartment door, she leaned against the wall watching him and then followed him inside. Trix didn't have much time to look around because as soon as the door closed, her companion was kissing her again, this time more insistently than before. Her hands chafed his arms and slid up his shoulders to his cheeks which she stroked before he released her.

Panting a little with the amount of adrenaline rushing through her, Trix managed to turn her eyes from Calvin's and walk further into the room to look around. It was a little bare but nice and clean which is way more than she could say about her own apartment which was coated in a fine layer of dirty laundry and art supplies. "Nice place, Calvin. I like it, but you could definitely use a splash of color," said the cheeky blue-haired bombshell with a wide grin.

Leaning forward, she snagged his hand and pulled him toward where she assumed had to be the bedroom.
 
Calvin Holman

When Calvin woke up the next morning, his warm arm was wrapped tightly around the blue-haired girl from the night before. But the presence of another body in his bed hadn't been what woke him up, nor had it been the guilt of what he had done.

What had woke him up was the feeling of danger. With the alcohol out of his system, he was on full alert and there was something in his apartment. Calvin was trained to kill and he recognized that sense, the sense that told him there was a witch nearby.

He'd slide out of the bed, careful not to wake Beatrix. He hurried into his small walk-in closet fetching his axe, and then carefully he'd step out of the bedroom, blue eyes scanning the rest of the apartment...
 
It took a moment for warmth of Calvin's body to dissipate after disentangling himself from Beatrix and climbing from the bed, and when it did, the blue haired girl woke sleepily, shivering a bit, and lifted her head to look around. She heard someone moving around in the next room, and though she didn't smell anything yummy yet, she hoped he was starting breakfast. Pancakes sounded awesome right about now.

Rolling out of the bed, it was a matter of seconds for her to dress in her silver club costume of the night before. She raked her fingered through her hair and pasted a bright smile on her face. Then she padded barefoot into next room and stopped in her tracks upon seeing Calvin with an axe. "Oh, my God...I did not get the usual axe murderer vibe from you like I have from other guys..". It was unclear if she was joking.
 
Calvin Holman

The bathroom was empty. The kitchen, the living room, both empty. He even looked in the little closet that held his washer and dryer and still nothing. The apartment wasn't tiny, but it wasn't large by any means. His sweep was very quick and revealed now witch hiding out in his apartment.

He was inclined to let it go as a dream or something, but there was still that tugging feeling in his gut that there was a witch nearby. His bedroom door opened revealing his companion from the night before and he laughed a little, "I thought I... heard something."

It occurred to him, then, that he'd found the witch intruding in his apartment. "Shit."
 
Swiveling her green eyes about the hallway, Trix lifted her slender shoulders in a shrug and then smiled. "Seems quiet enough. I was hoping you were out here starting breakfast, but since you're not..." she leaned against the door frame, her smile turning sweet and a little shy, she murmured, "We could go back to bed."

She was still a little wary of the fact he was carrying an axe because who has an axe in a city these days?! But still, perhaps he used that instead of a gun to scare away intruders.

At his expletive, the smile faded and was replaced by a quizzical look. "What's wrong?"
 
Calvin Holman

By sleeping with someone who was not his intended and who was not a Hunter, he'd fucked up. Not hugely, but still a fuck up. But sleeping with a witch? He'd betrayed not only his fiance but his entire kind. His brain and all his training were telling him that he should swing that axe right across her neck.

But she stood there, looking so cute with her bedhead, smudged make up, and last night's dress on that... he couldn't bring himself to do it. Last night had been fun, she'd been sweet. He liked her and he didn't feel like he was under any kind of spell. He dropped his arm, letting the axe swing at his side. "Shit." He said again, running a hand through his hair making it stick up even further.

What had he gotten himself into?
 
The silence in the room broken only by Calvin's repeated expletive was enough to make Trix feel awkward and uncomfortable. She watched the play of emotions cross her lover's handsome face. She wanted to go over and smooth the hair sticking straight up on his rumpled head, but she didn't move except to slowly straighten up. "You..." she drew the word out for a second and stopped. Then, "You have a girlfriend or something, don't you." It wasn't a question. She could tell. "I didn't think you were that drunk last night to forget such a thing, but maybe you were." She didn't like being the 'other woman' and had been several times before which led to an inevitable session of angry texts and/or Facebook messages from the girlfriend.

A little sad about this, the corners of her full lips turned down in a slight pout. "I'll go." Turning, she disappeared back into the bedroom and began to frantically shove her feet into her shoes and begin looking for her purse. Where the frick had she dropped it? Sliding to her knees, she bent down and checked under the bed. How had it gotten there? Reaching under, she snagged the strap and pulled it out.
 
Calvin Holman

Aw, fuck. "Bea," he called but she'd already turned away. Going against all his instincts he'd leave the axe on the kitchen counter and run after the blue-haired beauty, pausing in the doorway as she was gathering her things. "Please, don't go."

Except. It would fix everything, right? She would leave, he'd never see her again and no one would have to know about his colossal fuck up. It's just... he didn't want her to leave. He'd try reaching for her, giving her every chance to leave if that's what she wanted. "Please," he begged again regardless of the warring emotions in his heart. He wanted to ask for a chance to explain, to tell her that it was more complicated than that... but they all sounded like something a manipulative, cheating guy would say. Except, he was technically one of those things.
 
As she pulled the purse from under the bed, she heard Calvin's footsteps following and her name upon his lips. She pulled herself to a stand and turned to look up at him. She was thankful he had left the axe in the other room as it freaked her out a little bit.

When he reached for her, Trix let him gather her against him, she wrapped her arms loosely about his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest. "It's okay, Calvin," she tried to soothe him, giving him a brief squeeze around the waist. "Mistakes happen, I guess. I just really liked you."
 
Calvin Holman

"I fucked up," he admitted, holding her close. The sound of past tense 'liked' kind of hurt, but he'd take the blow he'd earned. The arms that encircled her would hold her tight, anticipating her reaction when he said the next part. He thought she might try to run and he wanted to, needed to explain.

"I like you, too." A heavy sigh followed before he continued, "But... I am engaged." His hold would remain firm, unwavering if she tried to pull away. "It's arranged. My parents and hers agreed upon it several years ago, and... she's not interested in marriage or me, but we have a duty to... our people." He would tell her this part of the truth, but he couldn't bring himself to admit that he was a Hunter. "So, we're obligated to be married one day. We've put it off for a while now." He indicated the room, with a jerk of his head. Clearly he lived alone.

"I shouldn't have... I know better. And I shouldn't have. You deserve better. I... just wanted you to know." He'd let his arms drop to his side now, giving her the chance to leave if she wished. "Granted it's not much better than a cheating boyfriend, but..." Another hand swiped through his wild hair and he let out a sigh, unsure how to continue.
 
A tear squeezed out of Trix's eye to trickle slowly down the cheek that wasn't pressed to Calvin's chest. She untangled an arm to hastily wipe it away before sliding her hand around his waist once more. Despite the situation, it felt nice to be held so tightly by someone.

"Arranged marriage? That's so barbaric in today's world!" she exclaimed softly and turned her chin to rest against his chest so she could look up and study his handsome face. "How could she not be interested in you? I mean, we just met last night, but you're so sweet, have killer tatts, and you have amazing dance moves. What's not to like? Are you... she lowered her voice, "Mormons?" And her expression indicated extreme sympathy. "I can understand feeling loyal to family and friends, but if you shouldn't have to be miserable with someone for the rest of your life. YOU don't deserve that. No one does."
 
Calvin Holman

His heart skipped a beat at the fact that she had stayed and, despite it all, he found that he wanted to laugh. "Something like Mormon," He agreed. Lying wasn't his strong suit, but... this was not something he could share with her. "We have... a purpose in life." He shrugged feeling like his purpose was no more. How could someone like Beatrix be the Thing that he had been taught to equally fear and loathe.

It was always possible, of course, that she was hiding her true colors but she just seemed... so genuine. "To turn our backs on the marriage would be to denounce who we are, to turn our backs on our friends and family and everyone we've known growing up. To marry or date anyone outside our... religion... is unacceptable. There's a blood line with our people and it's rare. We were given a chance to find love with someone within our group and when it didn't happen, our parents set us up." Calvin frowned.
 
Beatrix, true to form, was giving her full attention to Calvin, and she tilted her head causing the blue locks to shift and a few to fall over her forehead. Her brows were furrowed as if she was trying very hard to figure something out. Then it dawned on her and the darkness lifted from her expression, "Oh! You're Amish! That explains all your muscles and strength. Did you get your tattoos during Rumspringa?" (Rumspringa being when the Amish youths travel to experience the vices of the world) "I bet your parents were super mad. But that doesn't explain why you live in an apartment...oh, my gosh, did you not go back home? Are you still Rumspringa...ing? Was I your last fling of vice before going back?"
 
Calvin Holman

This time Calvin did laugh out loud, reaching down to kiss the crown of her head. "No, I'm not Amish and I'm not on Rumspringa." It would take him a full minute to get his composer because the idea of the Hunters he knew (many of them drinkers) being compared to the Amish. "These tattoos I got after my eighteenth birthday." Some were to hide the scars from his Test. "It's... not a religion you've heard of and it's less of a religion and more of... a cult? Except it's not really that either. Because mostly it's just... a birthright?"

It was hard having to explain this without explaining the truth. "We believe that we are destined for a purpose. We have a rare... genetic condition which we believe plays a part in our purpose in life. But it's recessive, which is why it's very important we marry within our... group." He'd laugh again, this time nervously. "It... sounds a little crazy, I know. But." He'd shrug, "this is what I've known my entire life."
 
There was a semblance of the usual Beatrix smile as Calvin laughed and kissed her head. She was happy to see him in better spirits as she had not liked how upset he had been earlier. As he spoke, she withdrew a bit and perched on the end of the bed, hands in her lap as she listened. "You don't sound too discouraged about it, I suppose, and not being in your situation, I guess I can't really relate. I really, really hope it works out for you, Calvin." She leaned forward and took his hands, squeezing them. "You're a special dude. Will you promise to call me to do your tattoo if you decide you want another one? And maybe text me sometimes to say hello?"

She didn't want to go, but he had pretty clearly informed her about his unavailability. She let go of his hands and stood once more.
 
Calvin Holman

He didn't want to let her go, wished she could stay, and wished his life was very, very different. "It's my duty," Calvin replied, sounding pained. It was his duty to marry a woman who would likely never love him, and who may never care for him more than a stranger who helped put a child in her. That was an encouraging thought. He would sigh and return the hand squeeze, tight. "Yeah, thanks."

Except he knew that it wouldn't and he knew that he would always think about the pretty blue-haired witch that he'd broken all the rules for.

His sad smile brightened marginally and the mechanic nodded, "Yeah, that I can definitely do." And before she could pull her hand away he'd kiss her once more, full and soft on the lips before letting her go...
 
Beatrix

Sweet Bea tilted her head upward to accept Calvin's kiss, her green eyes closing. Her hands tightened on his for a moment before she pressed closer, dropped her hands from his, and stroked them up his stomach and chest and over his shoulders, deepening the kiss before it ended.

When she stepped back, there was a little hitch in her breath. She drew her fingers over his handsome cheek. "If you change your mind, if you need help, you call me. I'll drop what I'm doing." There was a fierceness to her expression then, a protectiveness she rarely showed anyone.

She backed away and then turned to walk to the door. Her heart was heavy as she opened it and walked out into the bright morning.

After walking several blocks, she finally found herself back at the The Heat, and luckily her car was still there. She was in her car in seconds and then just sat there, hands on the steering wheel. Something for breakfast and then to the shop to continue painting. Perhaps some art would make her feel better or at least stable her emotions.

A beep from her purse caught her attention, and she pulled out her phone. Message from her mother. Well, that would be deleted. However, she realized she didn't have Calvin's number. "Probably for the best," she told herself out loud. She wouldn't be tempted to text him a million times like she did her usual boyfriends.

She did text Chloe as she said she would. I'm alive.
 
Back
Top