And I'm All Out of Gum [Dahlia]

[Simone Sylvester]

The roar of the engine slowly came to a silence at the edge of the curb. The rider put their foot to the ground, leaning on the handles of the motorcycle. Peering through the closed helmet, the figure gazed out at the suburbanly suburban area with veiled interest. After a few moments, unclipping the helmet off, the figure pulled it off her head. After running a gloved hand through her messy black hair, now staticy thanks to the helmet, she glanced over at the building she parked in front of. Her violet eyes peered at the building, nothing special really, but it looked quaint enough. She hung her helmet off her bike, stepping off onto the sidewalk. She pulled off her gloved, placing them into the pockets of her jacket. She didn't bother dressing up today, she was clad in a leather jacket, knee-high boots and jeans. Lastly, but not least, she dug into the breast pocket of her jacket to place her angular sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.

The woman pulled one of her bags off the bike, a rather large dufflebag she managed to pack on. She slung it onto her shoulder before digging into her coat pocket once again, pulling out a small black rectanglular device. She held her hand on her hip, holding the device to her face before she started talking to no-one in particular.

"21st day, 7th month. South Isle, weather......."

She paused for a moment and looked at the sky overhead, "Bright and sunny, I'll be sure to make meaningless small-talk about how nice of a day it is," she looked around her shoulder at the enviroment around her. "Finally arrived to my new home. An apartment located around other more suburban homes... each more suburban than the last." A car sped past her, leaving a cloud of dust and exhaust in her wake, "The guy was driving a Prius, also he was speeding. What a dumbkoff, I hope he doesn't live here. There's an old lady doing her lawn, too. I think she's planting tulips. I waved at her just now, and she just stared in stillness. Maybe she's narcoleptic... but with her eyes open. Not sure, stopped caring."

The woman turned back to the building, tilting her head a bit to the side. It was a bit on the small side with a few balconies on it, strangely coloured, but quaint-looking enough. A couple plants lined the front and a few trees. Someone parked their bicycle in the front, too. "The building looks kinda tacky, making a mental note to inform the owner of it's tackiness." She turned it off and slid it back into her pocket. With that, the dark-haired woman made her way into the building, using a set of keys to get inside before heading upstairs into one of the rooms. She opened it up, dropped her things in, and promptly left. Apparently she had strong indifference as to the look of the room. Partially, yes, but on the flip-side she just wanted to go out and see the neighborhood next. She COULD get onto her work and start contacting Heaven's Gate...

BUUUUUUUUUUT

She was really hankering for a latte. That and she felt the all-too-familiar pangs of laziness and procrastination. Out of the building, Simone looked around before picking a random direction and walking. She's reach coffee eventually, right? Sure. Her eyes flickered around, trying to get a feel of the surroundings around. After a bit of walking and wandering, she eventually came to a quaint looking buisness area. Small little shops and whatnot. Simone wandered about, looking around for the object of her affection. Sadly, nothing so far, but she continued walking.

"Remind me why I moved here again? Wait, I didn't. Work. Right," she muttered a bit to herself, adjusting her glasses.

[Dahlia Ravana]

Dahlia's day had been uneventful, and it had put her in a bit of a sour mood. There had been little need of her services for the past few days, and Dahlia was growing restless with the need to cut someone open, to see them bleed, to feel them writhe with pain and fear and be totally helpless, to be completely under her control. Instead, all she had gotten to play with was a few servants, and all she could do with them was order them around. She wasn't allowed to cut them up; Dahlia couldn't even break a few of their fingers.

So, instead of doing what she loved, Dahlia was stuck in some horrid coffee shop, drinking tea from a fountain and eating a salad that tasted like it had been made three weeks ago. It was disgusting. Dahlia, leaving the majority of her salad untouched, was instead spending most of her time doing another favorite activity: people-watching through the window. Granted, most of it linked with what kind of torture would make the person scream the most- water-boarding for the twelve-year-old girl walking along with her father, chattering on about her dance class, and ooh, maybe she could have the father go through scaphism. Nothing quite like having someone eaten to death by flies, festering in their own filth, delirious and humiliated to the final breath.

Dahlia allowed her ever-present smile to grow a bit at the very thought. She was so lost in the fantasy of causing such unimaginable pain and horror that she almost didn't spot the woman known as Simone Sylvester walking close. As far as Dahlia knew, she had recently moved for some mission, and really, that was all Dahlia cared to know about. Dahlia didn't have many friends, or, really, any friends, but she had 'hung out' with Simone on multiple occasions. The woman was a tad bit annoying, but then again, she was one of the few who seemed to like Dahlia enough.

Dahlia rose from the table in the small coffee shop, and without a word, she exited. The sunlight hit her and she blinked for a moment, holding up a pale arm to momentarily block the sun. Once adjusted, Dahlia made her way towards the walking woman, a smile on her face. She spoke, the words dripping with milk and honey. "Hello, Simone. I take it you've arrived at your new living space?" Dahlia fell into step with the woman next to her.