Chloe has frequently been described as statuesque. This description harkens not only to the dryad, or goddess sculptures, but also the monolithic titans and gods of the Greek era.
Chloe was a titan; her muscles burned hot-yellow as she carried the large stone ring, as Atlas carried the world. The object was the thickness of a cinder block, and was tall enough to touch the ceiling of a normal house. It appeared very plain, a thick ring surrounding a filled stone centre, not unlike a coin with a thickened boarder. The object appeared to be little over 1000 lbs, almost a record breaking deadlift.
Chloe marched through the town, legs bulged like Hercules if she had done cyclist training on steroids and raw meat. Her eyes were intense, her mind blank except for one goal: get the object to her1 home. She marched through about three districts on her path, and in each people gave her wide birth. Despite her feat, there was little awe from onlookers, as this kind of thing is not unusual for this city.
Two hours later, she relinquished the weight, and stopped self-injecting lazor energy into her muscles. Reagant, her partner, helped roll the object into their apartment building, and shortly after she passed out, her body burning, heart racing.
“Mmm, yes, so they were Riley after all. They put up a good fight, but I had help.”
“Sorry I wasn’t there,” Reagant nods, “I had to go to some strange places to find the quantum physics book though.”
“And very well that you did. The power adapter was needed. It is too bad that there is not enough power coming from the grid. I guess I could always make a nuclear reactor… But I really; I do not want to.”
“No need, if we just supercharge my Poly-lead-iron battery with your lazor energy, we should be good. But you’ll need a weeks worth of power.”
Chloe shrugged. She followed Reagant to the trailer. “I built it with a trailer skeleton, for convenience.”
“Smart.” Chloe injected her power into the battery, pushing lazor plasma into the stores.
A week passes.
On the four story roof of Chloe’s building stands a large stone coin. The outer ring begins to rotate, the movement drawing power from the battery.
It spins slowly, but it gains speed.
“How long until it creates the portal?”
“According to your equation, at this much power about twenty minutes.”
Chloe slumps and sits off the edge of the roof. She looks below, watching the Cedar residents and homeless mill about. They don’t pay her or her device much mind. This isn’t the strangest thing she’s done.
“I wonder if this ten foot tall coin will draw any attention?” She thinks to herself.
III + IV
The portal on the four story abandoned apartment opened. Just for a second, and only one tenth of its full size, but it opened. An evil conduit made of black dust passed through in that time, and now hovers through the city; a dark cloud exploring the streets… Searching.
Chloe stands on top of her four story abandoned apartment, tearing through wires in her battery system, trying to close to wormhole. It is spewing debris, exuding a spiral-cone shaped energy burst. A touch would sear the skin, Chloe’s burns would prove that.
After frantic, but unknown length of time, Chloe steps back, and frowns. She shuts the battery down using the killswitch. Nothing. She tears the battery plug out. Nothing. She kicks the gate. Nothing.
Chloe walks in front of the gate and sits down. She looks at the gate, and at the world below her building, and back at the gate. She doesn’t know what to do.
One might find Chloe waltzing around the city, buying things. Her routine went like so :
- Find a store
- Buy exactly what she came for. (Usually speakers, folding chairs, barrels and stock of alcohol, a paid route modification for cart wielding food vendors, building supplies and so on.
- Pass of material to Reagant, who would bring them away for her.
That being said, Chloe could be found in many places, and often alone. Hardware stores, audiophile shops, back alleys, licensed alcohol stores, government offices, and even back alleys making deals…
The four story Cedar apartment was newly renovated, unmeltable steel beams added support to the combined first and second story.
The blueprints read: F1 F2, combine for high roof. F3 Hotel. F4 Supplies and my house <3.
Today the police and paramedics are in front of the almost finished new renovation. In the ambulance, a dead body, covered in black dust. Nearby Chloe stands talking to an officer. She surveys the crowd, looking for anyone with the power… who killed this man?
Chloe studied her portal. She ran some tests. It had gone off in the night. She didn’t know why, or what went through, but she was worried. She took the large ring to main floor of her apartment building and put it to the side, as a decoration. She then jammed a platform in the ring’s centre. It won’t fire up if there’s something in the way of the event horizon’s middle. Simple physics.
She walked outside, searching for clues, for someone from her world. She thought she saw a winged figure in the sky… Or not?
“I wonder, did anyone see it open last night?”
VIII – Handing out Bullets
Yaska stepped out of a dark building marked with a spiral. She had come looking for a lighter sword, since this world’s high gravity made her weak. Instead she leaned about the wonders of black powder and pistol grips.
She looked around the world with the demonic urge to kill. Her powers sometimes got the best of her. It would be a shame if any poor soul were to cross her path while the Demon in her mind was in control. It hungered, calling for sacrifice.
Chloe is holding an open house to gather opinions on what future patrons would seek from her upcoming grand opening.
Bring an open mind and a question to the black building on the west end if the Cedar district.
Is what posters and even radio ads started. Yaska occasionally used her Walkman for radio, and so she too was searching the Cedar for Chloe.
Inside the black building, Chloe walked among a small crowd of her acquaintances. She poured beer and syrups, offered complimentary to visitors.
And yet, no one appeared.
“This will do. And if she lives, we can re-use her.” The figure let go of the wire.
Chloe’s body swung three stories above the busy street. She hung, suspended by a wire noose that dug into her neck. She looked dead, but was she? Blood ran down her shirt, dripping off of her black stripper boots into the streets below.
“Mess with me, will you?”
The figure watched her work, and deeming it successful, she seeped into the shadows and dissipated, giving a single laugh on her way out.
An old post, quoted below.
Chloe’s body swings three stories above the empty street. She hangs, suspended by a wire noose that digs into her neck. She looks dead, but is she? Blood runs down her shirt, dripping off of her black stripper boots into the streets below.
Her neck is tense, bulging tendons keeping the wire from cutting her circulation of completely.
In an instant, Chloe regains consciousness, as if coming back to life. She gags for a bit and then grabs the wire and pulls herself up, taking tension from her neck. She holds herself, trying to figure out where she is and what’s happening.
She cuts the wire from her neck, falling three stories, rolling and breaking one of her legs. She tries to scream, but no sounds come out, just air. There is lump in her throat blocking her vocal folds. Chloe tilts her head back, making choking sounds as she pulls a silver tube from her throat. It’s streaked with red. She coughs, her mouth warm with the blood.
She gets up and pulls herself off the dead streetsinto an alley. She makes the fifteen minute walk home in two hours, and lays on one of the beds in her clinic.
“I’ll deal with this mess in the morning,” Chloe thinks. She lets her fatigue and blood loss drag her into a deep, heavy sleep.
You could hear it across the Cedar district. You could hear it much farther from the rooftops. The fusion of Dance and Heavy Metal music that came emanating from NightRave II. Right now a very specific song was playing, the club claiming its right to the airways. Stating that its time is NOW!
(You can skip down if you’re not a reader.)
Inside was a small crowd, growing by the hour. The grand opening of NightRave II boasted free alcohol and syrups, as well as discounts on other less legal things that often appear at raves. After the opening song, Chloe walked behind her booth, took a couple of vinyl LPs and spun them up. She pulled the mic to her mouth and screamed! Leaving the essential DJ headphones on their hanger, she started the music. During the opening bridge, she made her announcement.
“Hey fans, future fans, and everyone else, I am Chloe Rhye, the Prince of the Solune and this is NightRave! Get ready for a vocal technique I like to call drop vocals!”
And so she sang. After the first song, Yaska May found her way to the stage adjacent to her booth. She takes a mic, it seems she’s used one before. She takes a guitar off the wall. She motions to Chloe, marking two with her fingers.
“Hey, we have a live guitarist. This is Yaska, her shredding skills are renown where I come from. Let us see what she has for us.” *She slides in an LP marked “5 Souls” and Tears of Blood starts playing.
Chloe plays another pop song, Devotion by Ellie Goulding. Yaska motions once more, taking the mic and actually using while playing this time. She sings in a strong, feminine voice.
The instant the chorus plays, the room darkens. A voice echos through the room, but the music continues. The backup lights shoot on. Yaska is playing, but there is a figure next to her, gun at her jaw. Chloe calls out.
“So, shoot me bitch.” Yaska says, playing the bridge on her guitar.
The crowd doesn’t understand what’s happening. They just continue dancing. Chloe takes initiative, dropping her prismatic alloy disco ball and cranking the music to 11, the volume of a rock concert. Yaska ends her song in a hurry, and Chloe puts her mix tape CD into the booth. “This will last the night.” She says to herself. Song one is Beat It, by Michael Jackson. “A classic.”
“Bring it on, bitch.” The silenced pistol shot is inaudible in the room. The three figures dash for the stairs, Yaska, shot through the cheek, is mostly unharmed. The intruder follows her up the steps, and Chloe runs behind for backup, turning the lights back on on her way.
On the roof of the four story building, Yaska smiles, “Bring it on! Step out of the shadows!”
She pulls her rifle from her back, and fires six times. The intruder dodges all of them, and laughs. From two higher buildings, a group of men in black jump down. They have strobe lights, and the blind Chloe. She fires lazor eyes into the sky. Yaska is unaffected, her eyes adjusting quickly to light and dark, light and dark. She fires her last bullet at the stranger, and it hits.
The stranger lets out a yell and bolts, leaving her backup to clean the mess. Yaska dashes away, and Chloe is left, blind, and firing lazors at all sounds of movement. She roasts a man across the chest, but there are almost twenty of them.
Does anyone come to the opening and follow them up the stairs? Or maybe see the strobes and lazors on the roof?
And yet, only one appeared.
“Shame, all that hard work making the write up too.”
XII – Garden of the Dead
Last month Chloe took over the neighboring building. It was also long abandoned. Made of rotting wood and mouldy insulation. She removed the roof and started dumping soil in it. She also dumped something else in it, but she kept quiet about that.
With the small amount made from the grand opening, she bought plants and seeds. Now it’s a functional high roof greenhouse, a living building with trees, vines, everything.
Chloe woke up, wet from the ground. Homeless milled about. The few who felt comfortable sleeping here. She walked to her clinic, and took a large black bag, hauled it over her shoulder and headed back to her garden.
XIII – Garden of the Dead part II
Someone was leaving dead bodies in a shed nearby a warehouse. They would sit and “ripen” for a few days and then disappear. Yaska would take… Bits. Feed on them. This happened for a few days, but soon the bodies, they stopped disappearing.
That worried her. The garden… The shed was attached to a garden. A garden that needs a lot of care. And that caretaker was missing.
Yaska followed the scent with her demon abilities, but it disappeared. She went back to the garden, and looked around, looked for clues.
“Wherever you are,” she adjusts volume, “are you dancin’ on the dance floor or drinking by the bar…”
Yaska had broken into NightRave earlier, dragged out the Marshalls, and set up outside.
“Hey! Anyone see Chloe? Oh, Tonight we do it big, and shining like stars and we don’t give a wahh~ cause that’s just who we are.”
This was a tactic. Yaska was hoping NightRave regulars would stop by, ask her where Chloe has been or even better, have any info on where she went.
“And we are, we are we are, The crazy kids, them crazy kids,
“And we are, we are we are, The crazy kids we are the!
“We are the crazy people!” She smiled singing Keshain her feminine British voice.
XV + XVI +XVII – The Crimson Woman
Yaska’s search party was set up, a Judas Priest Painkiller vinyl played as they waited. A dark haired, brown skinned man with a purse full of gadgets strode in.
“I saw her.”
“What?” Yaska was immediately intense. “Where?”
“Some district that’s far richer. People gave me funny looks. She was all red. By the dark stains on her clothes, I think it was blood, maybe even her own.”
You would meet this small search party anywhere in the city, with vigilant eyes.
Chloe walks into some sort of resident secret “fight club”. She sneers, already bleeding from small cuts shedding her face and arms. She’s 6’4″ and built like a Viking.
Looking like she had an encounter with “Wirebrush Man,” Shoulders, large breasts, and legs bared, bleeding. Large knuckled fists clenched. She needed to burn off a hella lot of steam.
Chloe strode past, leaking lazor plasma.
“That’s her! Hey! Chloe!” Yaska shrieked.
Chloe looked at Yaska and then looked away. She walked into the alley and then disappeared.
“Fan out and search the area.” She commanded the search party. She liked that. She hadn’t told anyone what to do in her life, but she felt like she was good at it. It was a nice skill…
“I’ll follow her, but she’s fast. Comprehensive. Go far back before you close in on her, or else she’ll squeeze past.”
Yaska sprinted, secondary muscles shifting into place, bringing her from half closer back to where she was before stepping through the portal to this world. She wished deep inside that she could fight at full power again, just for once. Just once more time…
XVIII – The Crimson Woman part II
As Chloe ran on higher and higher rooftops, sprinting away from Yaska, a few things raced through her mind.
‘I am not going to be caught by Yaska and her rescue party. Not now.’ That was the loudest. Her skin was healing from all the small bleeding cuts that had made her the Crimson Woman.
The other thoughts were chaos; begging for order, her superiority, her royal birth calling for duty. All of it was drowned out by cries and screams of pain from within. She had left on purpose. She had let herself get caught by a very understanding serial murderer, but had saved herself with the silver tube.
‘Why… Is it worth it? You saved all of your clinic’s money, skimped on methadone and morphine, did extra on the side, started charging rich folk. You earned yourself a place in the city for your passion, NightRave. But you did not earn a place in anyone’s heart.
‘Oh the search party? You don’t want to go back to that worthless life. You have all of three fans. Three customers after all that investment. Now you have nothing, rock bottom for the third time in your life. Isn’t it time we end this nonsense? Isn’t it time we just stop trying to climb back up and let the current take us?’
Chloe shed a tear and yelled, “Leave Mr alone you demon!” Back to Yaska, who promptly ignored her.
Chloe knew Yaska was weak from the new gravity on her body. She sprinted through alley ways and busy streets, and lost Yaska in a couple of hours. She ran back home, exhausted, weak from the blood and running.
*She went to her roof, drew her rapier, and put the edge to her neck. Her hands trembled from, she had lost most of her blood, and hadn’t fed her vampirism in a while. She pushed on the blade, her shaking causing it to scrape her fair skin instead of cut it. “I’m worthless. Sin after sin, nothing but failure. The world’s become too much for me. It’s time to move on.”
She was weak, her sword dulled, her strength… Probably not enough to even draw blood. But she pushed, her hands trembling, her vision fading.
XIX – The Dead Garden
The sun beamed into the windows of Chloe’s indoor Dead Garden. The walls are damp and covered in vines, the ground wet. Yaska tread lightly, her bare feet sticking to the mossy ground cover. She decided to explore the indoor garden, before people started showing up for day three of the search for Chloe.
The search party had shrunk. The NightRave junkies were gone first, then short term friends of Chloe. Yaska assumed that today the only people who would help would be Chloe’s older sister, her old friend, Yaska, and maybe the man with the contract to find her. Yaska sighed. The six month coma must have really hurt Chloe’s reputation in this city. Eleven months and one friend, pitiful really.
Yaska’s foot snagged on something, and she fell, hands catching her fall. They slipped on the ground, and her face hit the ground.
“Ohh…” Yaska groaned.
“Ohh…” Came another voice.
Yaska stiffened, and looked to her feet. She had tripped on someone’s arm. Her mind raced,”Chloe?”
“Why are you on the ground?”
Yaska stood up. Chloe lay on the ground, a pile of bloodsoaked clothes beside her. She was wearing only her underwater, also stained red.
Her light, tanned skin was covered in scratches, small scars that would fade to nothing in time. Her shoulder was dark purple. She had signs of blood loss, signs other than the colour of her previously white linens. Her face, midriff and limbs were covered in dried red splotches.
“You’ve probably lost a lot of blood.”
Chloe nodded slowly. Yaska placed her hand on Chloe’s neck, then chest. Her heart rate was rapid, but weak. Her skin was cool and sticky. She moved her hand from between Chloe’s breasts and felt the fingers. They were turning blue.
“Hemorrhagic shock. The soldiers illness. I’m surprised you’re not dead.” Yaska paused, “well, actually, I’m kind of not surprised. But you need blood, can someone give it to you?”
Chloe closed her eyes, she spoke with a harsh voice.”My blood is not if this world. I have an alien blood type.”
“Blood type?” Yaska had not heard of this.
“Yes. Strange quirk of evolution. It is not like back home where we can just give to anyone.” She sighed.
“Wait… I could give you my blood?”
Chloe’s eyes widened, “The IV line, get a needle. Clean it with alcohol and burn for sanitation.”
“You… just sleep or something.” Yaska stood up.
When Chloe woke up, Yaska was chilling out beside her, a direct IV line running between the two of them. Yaska’s blood was a hot pink, and before Chloe was forced into becoming a blood drinker, so was hers. Chloe felt… Mystical. More mystical than usual anyway. Yaska kept the IV in until her breathing became rapid, a headache formed.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Yaska clamped the needle shut and carefully took the needle out of her arm and then Chloe’s arm. She took Chloe to her room in the building next door, carrying her like a princess… Or Prince.
Afterward she went outside and sat on the ground, waiting to tell the search party the news.
Chloe Rhye, Seventh Prince of the Solune
Yaska May Rheya Dawngale, of Village #2
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