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 A season in Hell.

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Sanaira Loupied
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PostSubject: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:51 pm

A Season in Hell, Book One- Kaelie’s book.
Sanaira Loupied
Book one’s event take place in September and October of the graduating year of five very different students in a small Alberta town.
This book is for my friends, and especially for my four fans; Laura, Danielle, Kieran, and Amélie my number one through four fans. Thanks guys!
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“Check,” Sebastian told himself pleased by how the game was going. White was winning, white always won when Sebastian played himself, otherwise just whatever team Sebastian was on won. It wasn’t so much natural talent (Although he’d probably disagree) as he really didn’t have a life. Chess, risk, and any other highly tactical game (he refused to play X and O’s) was his life, although he was also quite partial to video games. He took the offending player with the strange L shaped movement of his dark Knight, which quickly found itself destroyed by a white bishop.
“Are you playing with yourself?” A snotty entity asked him as he moved a black pawn forward protectively. Responding to the movement, he retreated the bishop back several squares into safety.
“No, were that the case my hands would be down my pants, and I’d have most certainly picked a slightly more private area,” he replied easily in the drawn out manner that his father favoured when talking to people of a lesser class. Sebastian preferred to address people as equals, that is, without distinguishing them by their pay check. However, he’d found over the years that certain people were just about annoying enough to warrant such a lack of tact. He almost smiled at his wit when the he completed the response, except that would ruin the effect. And Sebastian was a big enough fan of sociology that he couldn’t do destroy the possibility of a bad ass mind raping. Particularly of a preposterously conceited girl. However, a slight smirk did worm its way onto Sebastian’s face as he waited for her retort, which (almost depressingly) was nonexistent. He was disappointed in her. Kaelie was in an elite position as school, unrivalled. Apparently it was time she needed to defend her throne. “What can I do for you Miss. Kaelie?” he inquired in a false voice that framed fatigue. He turned slowly from the chess board; it was one of the tiny magnetic travel versions. He’d had it stored beside the till where he’d thought it was out of sight from overly curious customers. A noticeable fail. Purposely Sebastian leered at Kaelie’s face in such a penetrating way that he was surprised when she refused to look away. He could feel her unease radiating off of her almost as strongly as if she had a sign stapled to her forehead making the claim.
“Well you could stop looking at me like you wanna get in my pants, and run my items in,” She looked away than, gesturing to said objects. He picked up the first item without taking his eyes of her, passed it to his left hand, and scanned it through. Then Sebastian grabbed the next item. He accomplished the first six items without removing his gaze, but the seventh required him to punch in a code. He broke the glare, and ran in the code for the apples. He took the opportunity to blink before returning his cocky leer, and continuing to scan the item as he had previously. She had few items, and with the exception of the pink ladies, he didn’t know what a single one was. Kaelie tossed her blond hair indignantly as though she expected this to put a change in his apathetic gaze.


Last edited by Sanaira Loupied on Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:53 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:51 pm

“Diageo,” she snapped the name with a practiced air of shortness usually found on an owner of a notably disobedient dog. The boy in question, a gawky stoner kid who’d dropped out a couple years back, stood up as quickly as any ensign caught slacking off by his sergeant. Sulkily, he returned the magazine to its place on the racks, and pocketed a candy bar fully aware of Sebastian watching him. In a lazy movement he slunk over to Kaelie’s side and slid an arm around her waist possessively drawing her into him flank against flank. He grinned at Sebastian with yellowing cavity hounded teeth that did nothing to alter Sebastian’s mellow expression, even if on the inside he was cringing. Diageo was at a disadvantage though in his attempt to alter Sebastian’s mood. Diageo looked at Sebastian as a person; Sebastian looked at Diageo as an object, or more accurately a pylon - a mere obstacle to be avoided and ignored. An irritating pylon, but a pylon all the same. In fact at the moment he was looking at both of them artistically, so he supposed that made Diageo the equivalent of an irritating pylon with a Da Vinci original, a doodled original though. Nothing too special.
Where Kaelie had curling golden locks cascading down her back, Diageo had short, spiky, jet black hair, it was also pin straight. The boy was Goth pale probably from too many video games, and not enough sun- not that Sebastian should talk. The girl on the other was beach tanned; or more likely artificially tanned. Her blues eyes, against his amber ones both with a similar dominant lust filled edge. Kaelie’s nose was smaller a button to his beak, but her lips were fuller and crimson under her makeup. She wore a black hoody. Lulu lemon from the look of its emblem, very short Roxy, jean shorts clung to her legs which (in Sebastian’s opinion) would have looked far better toned. Not that he cared. Diageo on the other hand was attired in a too big of black Wal-mart special jeans that came to about half way up his butt. He completed the image with a ratty t-shirt that appeared to be a tourist jip from Drumheller’s Royal Tyrell. Sebastian may not understand people, but he did understand art, and the juxtaposition of the moment almost hurt him. Physically.
“That will be thirteen dollars and twenty two cent,” he said, annunciating in such a way that he felt as though he had too many teeth in his mouth. His expression was such that one could tell he was imagining whether other people ever felt that way – and doubted it. Sebastian didn’t meet Kaelie’s eyes this time instead staring at the boy attached to her hip, “As for you, kindly pay for the Smarties or put them back,” he ordered Diageo pointedly.
‘Or what?” Diageo grunted the personification of stupidity itself. Another difference. Intelligence gleamed in Kaelie’s eyes no matter how well she tried to hide it.
“Or else I’ll call the cop and have them hull your ass to the cop shop for shop lifting,”
“Just put it back Diageo, and quit being an idiot,” Kaelie snapped. He glanced at her like a whipped puppy dropped his arm and returned the Smarties, head drooped.
“What a well trained individual,” Sebastian commented out of the corner of his mouth when he was certain that Diageo wasn’t going to boomerang back but rather examine the other products placed conveniently to tempt children.
“Shut up,”
“So when are you done work?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His lip curled into a smirk, “You mean you’re actually with that lump willingly? I merely assumed you were a tad short on cash.”
She stood there silent for a second then scooped up her bag and grabbed Diageo’s hand, “Put it on my account, 5738 is the number,” She turned away and started to walk towards the exit, Kaelie got about two meters before turning back to face him crocodile tears gleaming in her eyes, “You really are an asshole Sebastian, no wonder you don’t have any friends,” with that said she turned on her heel and stormed out of the building a bewildered Diageo trotting after her. Snickering to himself, Sebastian moved another couple of pieces on the board. He grinned baring his teeth before breathing the words, “Check mate,” Black had won.
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:51 pm

Alex hit the ‘x’ in the corner of the screen closing the game annoyed with himself. Not only was chess a ridiculously pointless game, his laptop was going unreasonably slow because it had overheated on his patch quilt. The blanket was the most colourful single object in the room; however Alex’s room was far from dull. Bands (Tokio hotel, Nickle Back, The Killers, Avantasia, Dark Moor, etc) , movie posters (Harry Potter, Twilight, Pirates of the Caribbean, X men, Sweeny Todd, and so forth) and photographs decorated the barely visible orange walls. It had been said by Alex’s friends that he had enough pictures on his walls and facebook to fill three photo albums without resorting to baby pictures, and, glancing at his friends doing random stuff from just hanging out to band camp (literally) he was almost inclined to agree. Potted plants littered the room scarcely less in numbers then the inked paper. A drawing table was in a corner along with specialty markers, shading sticks, pencils of different darkness, and hundreds of pencil crayons. His saxophone leaned against this table within its soft case; a key board was at its base, a trumpet half hidden by the saxophone lingered nearby. He ducked down a little bit to check if the violin was in its correct place (on the floor of course) which it was.
Dark blinds, draped over the single window which faced south, were embroidered with the words “Riot” as courtesy of a friend. Black cloth covered couch, and a TV; hooked to a wii, was on the far wall from the bed. It was on this comfortable pillow covered surface that Alex lay sprawled out like only a small dog can manage when dominating the entire bed. Music blared out from the lap top filling the room with the Midway State, its program (iTunes) was minimized along with about seven others. However that wasn’t the reason the laptop was going slow, it was most certainly the chess- just ask Alex.
His cell vibrated, he grabbed it, flipped it open, and replied all in the course of about thirty seconds. He clicked the security of his lap top on and rolled of the bed. He trotted down the steep staircase which leads from his attic room to the rest of the house with a practiced ease. One of his hands pressed against the wall for balance as he swung himself around the wall to gaze into the living room half on the stairs half in the room, “Hey Dad gonna go to TC’s for some slushes with a couple of friends, K?” he called. Alex received no answer and therefore jumped all the way down landing onto the hard wood floor gracefully. He straightened up, “Dad?” Scanning the room he spotted the aging man asleep on the couch amidst random piles of disorganization.
A shy ray of light danced on the man’s greying face and somewhat lack head of hair. A news paper was draped across his bare chest, and that, along with his awkward half on half off the couch position had Alex assuming he’d fallen asleep by accident. The time on the TV indicated it was about seven, give or take forty three minutes and ten seconds. Not that Alex was concerned with specifics, the way he looked at things was that it was definitely early enough considering it was one of the final days of his last summer vacation. Ever. He wasn’t exactly sure how to handle that fact. After this year of school, he’d never go back to public school. It was a little more than a slightly strange feeling. It was downright creepy.
Purposefully he walked over to the television quietly as to not wake his father. He switched the TV off, no point wasting electricity he decided. Moving a couple of meters to the left, he stood on his tippy toes, leaned over a desk resting against the wall, and pulled the sheet snugly securing it at the edge of the window where the light had previously leaked through. The blue makeshift blind in place, he confidently turned out of the room pausing only at the kitchen table where he scribbled a brief note of his where abouts and to pick up a stray hoodie from his chair.
It wasn’t so much because Alex had this insane notion that 30 degree (Celsius) require a sweater as much as he thought he might as well be prepared if the weather changed. After all, it was Hanna. Alberta was the only place (that Alex knew) that the weather could latterly go from a summer high to snow in five minutes. Flat. Or so the rumours went. It had been long decided by Hanna’s inhabitants that such gossip had more than a grain of truth, more like a bale really. Giving the scarlet garment a casual sniff test for cleanliness he tossed it in his backpack deciding that it was hygienically adequate. He zipped the bag up, and tossed it over his shoulder ready to leave when he realized his laptop had remained up stairs, he’d have to run up stairs to grab the computer.
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:52 pm

Alex dropped the bag on the floor next to the closet. He supposed he could have moved the whole meter to put it on the floral chair basking in sunlight but somehow that felt too much like work. Quiet as a wraith, Alex swept past his father, but the aging stairs were creaky, and either way the man had already begun to stir.
“Alex,” he grunted commandingly in a croaky voice, “Where’s my supper,”
“Uh?” Alex replied unaware he was supposed to make any.
“Why’s the house a mess still? Are the dishes done yet? No? What about the bathroom? Of course not. Am I the only person in this house capable of doing anything?” Alex stood silently as his father continued his bitching unsure of the best means to deal with the situation. His father was unshaven, and squinty eyes as is glasses had fallen away during his rest. He was wearing only ratty boxers, with his gut rolling over the cheap elastic waist unable to compete. In many ways Alex figured he wasn’t getting paid enough to have to face with father attired in such a way. However as a general rule, life isn’t really all that concerned with customer satisfaction. Death is. Anyone who’s died can tell you, it gets it done right the first time, no messy second attempts need. “Well, boy what are you waiting around for, go fetch me my supper,”
“I was... going out...”
“Is that so? Who said you were allowed to? Not your mother surely?” He gestured towards the closed door where Alex’s mom was most certainly sleeping as was necessary with her nocturnal work schedule.
“Well, I thought-“
“You, and thought, should probably never be seen in the same sentence side by side, now go get me my supper, and it better be quick,” He stretched out and resigned himself to lying comfortably on the couch as he waited for Alex to fetch his meal. Alex however wasn’t moving, so irritated he turned to yap at the useless boy again. It was at that moment that they heard a crash from Alex’s room upstairs. That shut Alex’s father like nothing else, although Alex himself wouldn’t have noticed the effectiveness having darted up the stairs to see what had fallen so fast it was like he knew it was going to happen half a second before it did. He didn’t even get through the doorway before noticing his window smashed, shards littered his grey blue carpet, “What the f-”
“Language boy,” His father ordered coming up behind him limping visibly on stiff limbs. “Now, start cleaning, I’m going to call the police,” the old man gimped down the stairs, and watching him Alex rubbed his own legs as a foreign soreness settled in just to disappear with his father. He shrugged off the sensation as coincidence and got to work.

Kaelie had long since ditched the groceries at the shabby low income house that was all her mother could afford, and was walking with Diablo about the time Alex’s dad was having a snit. Her iPod was in so that she had an excuse to reply to some of Diageo’s less intelligent comments, of course these included the vast majority of everything that came out of his mouth, not compliments though. Kaelie’s ego required constant preening. “What are you listening to?” he asked. That he’d actually strung a whole sentence together, let alone ask her a question was a big enough accomplishment in her eyes that she actually answered him- truthfully.
“Something in your mouth,” she answer then specified the artist (as he went to touch his lips uncertainly) as the town’s own Nickleback. Diageo blinked then laughed.
“I know that one,” he informed her, “It’s funny, and you get what it’s about right?” Kaelie was tempted to say, ‘no’ for about a second but managed to contain herself for a couple of reasons. The first was she just wasn’t a fan of sarcasm, it wasn’t her style. The second was, even if she did use sarcasm Diageo wouldn’t have understood it. Said boy crouched down to pick up a stone, forcing Kaelie to stop as he yanked on her arm without so much as a warning. He tossed the rock into the air and caught it; he glanced sidelong at Kaelie as though expecting her to be proud of him. She wasn’t impressed. Kaelie peeked at the toss, catch, cycle quickly not wishing to show any interest but enable to put her complete faith in his ability not to let it smash her on the head. The wind was pulling playfully at her hair, and the strings of her hoodie, she felt tempted to take it off, and did so, wrapping the white lulu lemon sweater around her hips. Her v neck tang top was the lightest shade of baby blue; it had a lace neck, and was also hemmed with black lace. Kaelie had sewed the lace herself, she altered most of her clothing, but she had to admit that she was particularly proud of this shirt – despite the simplicity of the work.
The branches from the overgrown bush, er fence, uh, thing, scrapped her right arm but she ignored it; she reached out impulsively and caught the stone easily. She held the rock between her forefinger and her thumb judgingly. It was almost perfectly spherical, but its colour was a dull shade of grey. She tossed over her should where it skipped a few times before rolling into the untended jungle of a lawn beside the sidewalk. Diageo glared at her in annoyance, but wordlessly picked up another rock, a darker flatter, replacement. Kaelie noticed that it had shiny red markings on it, in a way it was almost pretty.
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:52 pm

“Stop,” Kaelie commanded after the first throw, a born tyrant. The furious look she received made her wonder if he would actually dare refuse her. She wanted him to for a moment, just to see what sort of dim witted reaction he’d have to challenge her. His eyes sunk from her face to her cleavage and Kaelie almost felt as though she’d be violated, insulted. Almost. Sulkily, Diageo held the rock tightly then threw it, hard. A corresponding crash of breaking glass made him swear, and forgetting about the girl on his arm, bolt. Kaelie was on his heels.

Breanna was running, she didn’t know where to, but it was from that was important at the moment, she easily outsprinted the boy in front of her before abruptly turning into a small alley way and booking it south. She didn’t stop until her lungs burned, and she was covered is a disgraceful layer of sweat. She leaned over resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She had run to the poorest and oldest part of town, which really didn’t look all that different from the rest of the place if a bit more run down. The train tacks ran along her left side, the round house stood, a menacing shadow of the past, further along. Breanna began to walk noting that the grass on this side of town was even browner then the other. She ignored the decrepit houses and yards walking past them without acknowledgement.
People passing her seemed to stare as if to say, “You don’t belong here,” and she’d have felt out of place had she actually cared what they thought. The people on this side of town were a minor irritation, to be endured and ignored. Letting even one of these people, or any person for that matter, get to you mean losing. Breanna never lost. Breanna had started jogging again by the time she hit the far west of town, not that in Hanna anything was all that far. TC’s, as the locals called it, came into a view; the place was a hang out area for the teen population. It held an A&W, Pizza hut, and a convenience store/ gas station all in one location. A creaking sign displaying a rodeo image swung in the wind giving the eerie groan as it moved back and forth. Breanna ducked into the store, she had a feeling that prolonged exposure to such western cliché could be infectious. She glanced at the overpriced display and head straight for the back where the slush machines were kept. A quick twist and she poured a large cream soda one that was bright enough pink to make any tom boy cringe. Luckily for Breanna she fell under no such jurisdiction.
She paid the dollar fifty eight on debit, and left. Instead of returning towards her home she kept walking towards the out squirts of town concerned solely with her own thought. She brushed by someone but continued walking without noticing, lost in her own world.

Raven gave one more check to her hair before exiting the single stall bathroom. Her hair was layered so that the shortest was far thinker then the long shoulder length one. It was also spiked up. Her hair was a dark as the plumages of her name sake bird, but all of it had been poisoned by dark indigo streaking. It was jelled and looked ridiculously good (in her opinion) considering she’d just got off work. She hip checked the Employees door as that was the only way to get the stupid thing open from the outside. A quick glance around the equipment to make sure everything was turned off (excluding the milkshake machine) she grabbed her Elements back pack and shoulder it, made her way through the short maze that constructed the back and middle of the store. The back was light weight, homework was far over rated, and it carried only her ugly as shit uniform. Similar colour spectrum too. She flipped a cup up and caught it in the air she placed it firmly on the little grating that allowed spilt pop to filter into a very nasty bucket hidden out of sight from the lovely valued customers. An easy flick to the correct button (ice tea) saw her completely soaked in the fluid. Far from impressed she took a step sideways over to the small sink to grab a rag and clean her face, the uniform was already a mess and she didn’t linger on it. If there was one thing she hated about the pop machine it was how in bad lighting in was ridiculously hard to tell if the stupid little black tips were on, which undoubtedly they were not. Calming herself, she lifted the cup (also wet) to enclose the opening that the fluid came from and clicked the button again, smiling gratefully as no resulting shower took place. Capping it and grabbing a straw she decided it was long past her due date for departure.
Stepping through the lift up counter out of the world of A&W staff she let the counter go allowing it to simply fall back into place with a satisfying bang sure to wake the dead, or any unattentive employees. Black iPod plugged in, she tuned out to the world of Anvantasia. Raven exited through the glass door pushing it open with her back, and sub consciously checking if was locked. Which it was. She’d taken about three steps when someone swept past her and shoving her hard sent her wind milling backwards into the cement door way.
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:52 pm

“Hey lady, you go a problem? I’m walking here!” Raven shouted after her. She moved towards the blond bitch, it was one thing to accidently knock into someone and apologize, but to do so then ignore the fact brought the insult to whole new level. She made to grab the girls shoulder when a small giant knocked her arm away gently, “What. The. Hell. Jake?” You saw what she did, you might want to sleep with her as much as every other shallow ass guy in this god forsaken town but surely you’re not going to stop me pounding her? I won’t even break her nose – much,”
He glanced down at Raven calmly and irritatingly condescendingly, “No,” he replied slowly, “She’d kill you Rave, I mean – you’re crazy. But Kaelie’s strong for a girl, not to count she’s twice your size. Just let me talk to her.”
Any other guy Raven would have snorted at such a comment, no guy wanted to talk with Kaelie. No straight guys anyways. Jake on the other hand (Although definitely straight and quite yummy) was the adopted son of a priest and not exactly molester material. She shrugged and shouldered her pack, “Whatever Jake, it’s too late for a homicide anyways” she turned away and walking towards the corner glancing around for her ride. Unbelievably no lights could be seen. “What precisely do I pay these people for,” She asked herself aloud in a very growly voice. The last thing she need at the moment was to wait around until past midnight, because her hired help couldn’t manage to pick her up from work on time. Not that they were the ones she wanted to blame, she wanted to be able to blame her father but, of that, she was incapable considering that he was across the world. Raven wanted her father to be her scapegoat (not that she was admitting this was in any way her fault, oh no. Not Raven) because that meant her father cared enough to stick around. About to cross the street, she sighed just as a corvette with a custom paint job of silver fading into black raced by, braked suddenly and with an excellent executed illegal U-turn, came back to park on the side of the road.

Sebastian didn’t know what had possessed him to turn around, maybe it was that he was in such an excellent mood and Rave had look ready to kill someone. Annoying people already irritated made his day. Speaking of such activities, at work he’d accomplished in besting three peoples in debates, that combined with his hefty pay check, his car, no curfew, and a far from petty allowance – cashed; made him feel pretty much on top of the world. It was probably for that reason that, for the first time in months, he’d followed his spontaneous instinct and pulled over to pick up Raven. Not that he didn’t know her; They’d been going to school together since elementary. It was that there is knowing someone, and then there is knowing someone. And the Raven, Sebastian, relationship fell into the first, if any at all. Such facts sometimes demanded being ignored, so when he pulled over, rolled down the passenger window and bid her to join him, despite her surprise and obvious suspicion, she accepted. Sometimes Fate just works like that.
“You do me the least of an offence, and I will make your life hell,” she warned him. Brushing her hair from her brown eye, that, in the lighting, looked extremely spooky next to her ice blue one. A chill ran up Sebastian’s back, raising his neck hair like he was some dog confronted with an unexpected threat.
Perhaps to cover up the silent tension, he chuckled at her comment, “Oh yes, Miss Raven, because your so superior popularity to my humble self will definitely allow you to turn the entire grade against me,” He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, the burgundy highlights (obviously artificially) gleamed handsomely as they drove under a street light. It would definitely be a unique experience for any random pedestrian watching the car rush by with its two occupants looking like they stepped out of the matrix. Of course Raven was lacking the sunglasses; she liked her eyes far too much to even flirt with the concept of covering them up. Except with her hair of course, bangs in standard ‘emo’ style was necessary for her look, it complete with silver pendent, and colour lacking (grey, black, or white only) dress made up her appearance, and she had no intention of changing it. Sebastian on the other hand in his black, silver pinstriped, dress shirt, an intricate design over his left breast made from strange embroidery and dress pants complete his out-of-uniform look. Both attires were of the most expensive clothing companies available, and both of them being of the most ridiculously wealthy families in the area this sort of made sense. Raven glanced at the time display, she had an hour or two before she had t connect herself to her computer for her daily chat with father. “Where to?” Sebastian asked.
Her schedule not requiring her presence anywhere in particular she shrugged, “Where ever.” The boy nodded, and turned right, driving carefully down Main Street, as if not willing to risk crashing now that he had company. “You like this town?” Raven asked in an attempt to get a conversation going. Sebastian shrugged.
“Tis ok,” he replied, “What do you think about it?”
“About the same, could deal without several people, and more things to do,”
Sebastian chuckled, “Agreed,”
“Don’t you ever find some people just reflect absolutely everything you hate about society?”
“What a horrible way to word it,” Sebastian informed her. Raven shrugged not particularly caring what he thought, “However, I do see your point,” he admitted, the words sincere enough for him to take his eyes from the road to look at her. She merely nodded in response, unable to quit feeling that something felt off in the cars atmosphere. “Your folks gonna get pissed about you being out late are they?”
“Nope,” Raven replied truthfully, “My mother’s dead, and dad isn’t in the country, they won’t even know.”
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:52 pm

Sebastian paused at such a response as if her were tasting this tid bit of information “I empathize,” he told her finally, he flicked the signal light at Bilo and drove passed the Doll Palace on his way out of town. Darkness engulfed them, but either neither of the noticed or neither of them cared.
“What about you?” Raven asked finally after a couple of km of just chewing on her lip out of bordom.
“My family might as well be dead for all I see of them...” Sebastian trailed off; at the moment it was requiring all his concentration to drive. Not because the super straight streets were difficult to navigate, nope. A sick feeling was taken him, not sick as in ill, more like twisted. He kept visualizing pulling over suddenly and attacking the girl next to him. Not for any purpose that he could tell, just... well because he could. His limbs felt heavy like lead on the wheel, he legs to, the vehicle continued to accelerate his foot pressed against the gas pedal subconsciously. He felt nauseous, dizzy; his gut felt like everything was trying to get out of his body. Ignoring the intelligent response of pulling over, allowing it to pass, then explain, he chose rather to drive on.
“Yeah,” Raven answered, knowing where he was coming from. They drove in silence, Raven continuing on the self-cannibalism, Sebastian continuing on attempting to stay on the road. Abruptly he turned around, practically at full speed, and started heading towards the town once more. Inertia cause both occupants to lean heavily, Raven into her window getting squished by the invisible power of physics, “What the hell!” she hissed.
“Sorry,” Sebastian apologized not sounding sorry at all, “But I need you to get out the car as soon as possible, and I can’t exactly just drop you off in the middle of know where,”
“What? Why pick me up if you were just going to throw me out again,” She demanded. To which he didn’t answer, preferring to put his entire focus in staying on the road. His mind was going far faster than his car (Which was not shabby itself) the main problem was not understanding exactly what was going on with him. Nothing annoyed Sebastian more then something he couldn’t understand, something he could grasp, whether it was an idea, a concept, an opinion. It really mattered not, which was probably why he was so well read.
“Well you know, I could use a little explanation,” As if in answer he abruptly turned into the shoulder thankful for Alberta’s policy of having large ones on their main highways. He stepped out of his car, and slammed the door, just standing outside for nearly ten minutes of silence and confusion. Then, just as suddenly as he’d left he climbed back in.
“Uh?”
He silenced her by holding up a hand, “Have you ever read Twilight?”
She rolled her eyes, “If you mean about oh so perfect Cullen, and slap stupid Bella the magical glitter vampires,” she paused before finishing, “Then yeah.”
“What if I told you vampyres were real?”
“Then I’d tell you I know, and anyone interested the least in the paranormal could tell you there are modern vampyre cultures all over the world, what’s you point?”
Violently he looked up, slamming an unseen body part on an unknown piece of the car, he managed to keep the swearing to a minimal, either way Raven thought it was quite pathetic to look so sunken over a stupid little thing like a vampyric condition. Beat normal any day in her eyes. “What?” he growled at her, expecting elaboration as soon he was finished feeling sorry for his injured appendage.
Raven shrugged, “I’m therian of course, I know there are real vampyres exist, not everyone in this hick town is uneducated about such things,” she stopped at the end of her sentence waiting for Sebastian to reply for perhaps half a second, before continuing, “of course vampirism and therians are different things. While therians aren’t human, well not really human anyways, vampyres are, it more like a... medical condition than anything else.”
She shrugged not about to get into more depth, it really wouldn’t have been appreciated much either way because Sebastian had no ears for Raven at the moment he was completely immersed in studying the surface tension of the blood on her lip forming a perfect sphere. He shuttered against what he couldn’t help feeling was a dirty desire, no matter how many supposed vampyres there were in the world according to the foolish girl beside him.
Finally realizing, that he wasn’t going to answer, Raven tried to figure out what exactly he was looking at, she licked her lips tasting the crimson fluid, “oh,” she said feeling rather stupid. As soon as it was licked a way, the sickness seemed to pass, and Sebastian was able to gain better control of his mind, “So, where do you learn of such things exactly?” He asked. Raven just shook her head at the comment, as he pulled out back onto the highway and the continued to cruise as if nothing had happened. It was how things worked with Raven; she had a very high tolerance for crazy shit.

“Don’t you know anything?” she interrogated.
“No,”
“You don’t understand your condition at all?”
“No,”
At that Raven spouted off some rather colourful language before demanding he pull again. Immediately. “Ok, before you go off and kill someone by accident there are some things you need to understand.” She was exaggerating. As far as she knew none of the vampyres had killed someone when vamping out. Thought of attacking someone? For sure. But actually killing someone? Nope. Besides, it was Sebastian. Who, at the moment at least, was looking rather pathetic. His forehead was leaned up against the steering wheel, and even in the pathetically bad lighting Raven could see his hands were shaking. “This feeling is known as Twoofing in the vampyr world,” she informed him. He nodded, not looking at her, his breathing was still hard to control, and he felt as though he never wanted anything in the world at the moment then Raven. But not even Raven, just her blood. It was... like waking up one evening and finding himself in some melodramatic soap opera. “Awakening, that is – when someone becomes aware of their vampyric nature, occurs during the teen years,” she continued not noticing the change in his attitude, Raven was a sponge for information when it came to something that actually interested her and because of that she could spout off facts on certain topics, or just listen for hours about things. She just liked to learn. Geek. “There are three types of vampyres, which are probably able to be separated down further, but really such specifics are unnecessary, there are sanguinians the partake in blood drinking, of course you could look up all these terms in a dictionary. The second type is on the other side of the scale, they are the psyvamps. These types of vampyres have the ability to take someone energy without consuming blood, oh and then hybrids. That’s the middle ground they go both ways.”
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PostSubject: Re: A season in Hell.   Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:53 pm

At that moment Sebastian went limp and almost fell from his chair, which, even Raven, noticed. “Are you alright?” she asked in legitimate concern, “It won’t kill you,” she added helpfully.
“Oh thank you... Ever so much,” he snarled. It was true that he didn’t feel sick anymore, nor did he want to try and assault Raven which was always a bonus. Now all he had to deal with was a mind splitting head ache. He informed her of that.
Raven just sighed; she glanced at the sky through her open window and ran a hand through her hair. In her mind she went over the day’s fun filled events starting with Mary dropping the grease bucket on her, then psycho cow Kaelie had practically ran her over, priest boy Jake stopped her from beating in the cows face, her paid employees decided to take the night off and not pick her up from work, so she’d been forced to take a ride from some vampyre kid that had no idea about anything. Typical, she groaned quietly at the injustice of life, and then looked down at the boy, “You are pathetic, dragging me out here then flipping out,” announced.
He looked up at her, glaring, “Like I planned this kind of bullshit.”
“Well, you did know you were a vampyre,” she retorted logically. He sat up his arms crossed.
“No, I didn’t. You just bit your lip and I started, ‘flipping out,’ as you say and I didn’t know a better way to get the concept through your head.”
Raven rolled her eyes, “Yeah, telling random strangers you’re a vampyre is the way to inform people, for sure.” Her lip curled as she took in his full appearance, “You. Are. Such. An. Asshole.” She informed him.
“So I’ve heard.”

(Chapter is unfinished)
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