Verity Alice Price

Dominic left the roof and Verity stood there blinking after him for far longer than she really would have liked. She was in a daze, a thousand thoughts crashing through her brain at once while her brain tried to sort through the options she had besides 'panic.' It felt like she was moving in slow motion as she walked across the rooftop to where she'd dropped her bag. Her cell phone was tucked safely into the front pocket. It took her three tries to make the zipper work, and another five tries before she could successfully access her contact list and call ( the one number that had a prayer of helping her find her emotional footing: Liam. )

Liam was right; keeping Dominic close was a better idea than cutting him loose. Only one small problem with that: Dominic didn't pick up when Verity called his cell phone. She didn't have his home number, assuming he even had one; she'd never seen the place where he lived. He could have been emulating Sarah, and just moving from hotel to hotel, keeping a roof over his head without tying himself to a permanent address. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like she'd been deluding herself all along. There was no way he'd ever really trusted her.

Still, she needed to put that aside, at least for right now, and figure out how she was going to deal with the very real threat of a Covenant purge. Verity broke into a run, pushing her phone deep into the front pocket of her jeans, building to a full-out sprint. She needed to find Dominic. She needed to start warning people. And there was nothing saying she couldn't combine the two.

Gravity took over once she stepped off the edge of the roof, and she was able to push other concerns aside in favor of the pressing need to keep herself from splashing on the pavement. That was one of the nice things about free-running; it was very distracting when she needed it to be. She was focused enough on her surroundings that she could usually avoid things that present an actual danger, like pissed-off cryptids or booby-traps (like snares, for example), but she didn't need to think about her faltering dance career, or the fact that the man she'd been starting to think about as maybe being a real friend wasn't really real friend material, or the upcoming Covenant purge. All she had to think about was the run.

Her first destination was a little café called Gingerbread Pudding. Going there wouldn't help her find Dominic, but it would help her begin the process of warning the city's cryptids that they needed to keep their heads down and maybe consider taking that California vacation they'd been dreaming about. She'd been telling the truth when she'd told Dominic that there was no way she could evacuate the entire city. That didn't mean she had to leave the people she considered friends unprepared for what was coming.

Letting go of the last rooftop between her and her destination, ( she dropped down, into the dark beyond. )

[And thus we continue! Taken from Chapters 4 and 5 of Seanan McGuire's Midnight, Blue-Light Special and preplayed (and coded by) genuine lifesaver firstofitskind. NFI/NFB. Previous post. Next post.]

After saving her from the Sleestacks--pardon, the servitors--Candy had first dragged Verity onto the Metro and then back off not far from the warehouse district. The dragon princess had informed Verity that she was being brought home with her; there were too many unanswered questions that they needed to discuss before Verity hared off and got herself killed. Verity would have liked to protest that, but considering Candy had just saved her ass from what would probably have been a very gruesome murder by Sleestack, she was willing to let it go.

Going through a maze of blind alleys and sudden turns--and even through a cramped and dirty bodega run by another dragon princess named Priscilla who'd looked at Verity like she held the last hope of the world in her hands--they ended up in front of a squat, ugly building. The building had started life as a slaughterhouse, and didn't appear to have changed much since. The alley door led into what had once been the holding pen for sheep or cattle; the floor was concrete, with spilled-wine bloodstains worked deep into the stone. A few of the low holding walls were gone, replaced by empty space. Overhead, the walkways and management offices hung in the gloom like spiderwebs, gray and sterile. ( The light was uniformly low, and an air of decay hung over the entire place, like no one had been there for years. )

[Adapted from Chapter 19 of Seanan McGuire's Discount Armageddon with wonderful coding help from my fave, firstofitskind. WARNING FOR NPC DEATH. First post is here, and here is the previous post. NFI, NFB, OOC is love]

The disapproving eyes of the concierge tracked the two of them across the lobby of the Ivy Hotel, a five-star establishment whose suites cost more per night than Verity made in a month of bartending for Eric. It was the sort of place where they'd film movies, if the management didn't consider Hollywood film crews too déclassé to trust near their marble floors. ( Even the air tasted like money, a delicate blend of expensive perfumes and unobtrusive all-natural cleaning products. )

[Adapted from Chapter 11 of Seanan McGuire's Discount Armageddon with amazing preplay AND coding help from firstofitskind, who is my personal hero. First post is here, the previous post is here, and the next post is here. NFI, NFB, OOC is love]