It was a motherfucking halestorm

Avondale Woods 
#1
Directly after this thread!
Outfit, except with socks and shoes.


The door was left ajar and Robbie didn't hesitate in the slightest when it came to disappearing in the safety of the caravan. Unlike the punk, however, Amy was content to remain outside for a while longer and watch the cat turn around on his heel and make for a rather hasty exit.

And along with that hasty exit of his, his memories of tonight would be disposed of in an instant.

"He won't bother us," at least not tonight. "Are you okay?" It was the next thing that popped in Amy's mind and whilst it was a stupid question, the words were out before she could censor them. Regardless, Amy turned around and made to enter the caravan a second later, amber eyes seeking out blue-green ones once she'd shut the door behind them.
Wehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#2


Deep breaths, Callaghan.

Not that breathing made the slightest difference, but the familiarity of it helped calm her down while also giving her something to focus on. Her jaw aching, Robbie gently messaged it just behind her right ear, hoping to relieve the pressure there.

Anything to avoid a panicked frenzy.

True to her arrogant ways, Amy took her time watching the beast that was Fray before entering the caravan and closing the door behind her. When she said that he wouldn't bother them, something like a strangled scoff escaped Robbie. Suffice it to say that she wouldn't bet on it.

"Are you okay?"

The punk looked to Amy then with eyes of absinthe fire, visibly stressed to say the least.

"I'm fine." There was a bite to her words. "What the hell was that?"
Wehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#3


"I'm fine."

Yeah, no. Robbie most definitely wasn't fine.

"What the hell was that?"

That was a fair question, but right now Amy's goal was to calm the punk the fuck down so she could calm down herself and have that bloody shade of red leave her irises entirely. "Just.. Try to calm down, he's gone." But, of course, Robbie would not be doing any calming down—at least not any magic-induced calming down—and Amy scowled mentally for it.

Releasing a breath, she closed her eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose whilst leaning against the door. A disaster was averted, but Amy was not quite convinced that what happened here tonight would remain behind them for the rest of eternity. "Things just.. exploded. I should've kept my cool instead of clawing him across the face, but I slipped." She had slipped and whilst she recognized how badly this could've gone down, she'd still enjoy kicking that ugly cat's face.

"He tried to slap me and I- I really couldn't take it." What he'd said hadn't been wrong, but those words were safely pushed to the back of Amy's mind out of pure saltiness alone. Just. Fuck this—as a whole.
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#4
"Just.. Try to calm down, he's gone."

"Give me a minute." Unaware of Amy's failed attempt to compel her, Robbie sat down on the bed, massaging her jaw and trying to calm down on her own. Beneath the panic, frustration and anger churned; it required no small measure of willpower to refrain from shouting at Amy for her stupidity.

Picking a fight with a shifter—any shifter—was the most stupid thing Robbie could think of.

Absinthe green eyes remained downcast while she listened to Amy offer a some pitiful excuse for an explanation. Although the blonde seemed to recognize tonight's clusterfuck for what it was, Robbie still felt a grim satisfaction from Amy.

"He tried to slap me and I- I really couldn't take it."

"Why did he try to slap you?" Robbie wasn't about to leave this alone. "I heard shouting."

While the punk was angry that Fray would try to lay a hand on her girlfriend, shit must have hit the fan before that.
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#5
Would it be bad to say Amy was actually glad Robbie had taken a seat on the bed and wasn't looming over her head? The blonde honestly felt awful for dragging the punk into this and Robbie prodding for answers right now only heightened that.

Amy recognized the other vampire had a right to know what the fuck had just happened, but at the same time, she also wanted to tell Robbie that it wasn't her business, which would be 110% bullshit, because it'd become her business since.. Well. This. This mess—the clusterfuck Amy had wrecked upon everyone.

"Because I called him out on his bullshit about avoiding us like the plague," she said simply and, truthfully, that mostly it. "He isn't trying—not like Skuld. I think I fucked it Robbie, probably beyond repair." The temptation to phase through the door she was leaning up against was growing more insufferable by the second; Amy honestly felt like she was being scolded by her mother after she'd jabbed some kid at school with a pencil because of a disagreement.

A sigh would eventually leave her.

"He wasn't wrong; things just got heated because we're both assholes and don't know how to hold a civil conversation." Those were probably the truest words ever spoken. "I wouldn't try to hold civil conversation with me either, though—his turning was my fault." It was strange, how the human mind worked, but Amy had given up trying to understand it a long time ago.
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#6
"Because I called him out on his bullshit about avoiding us like the plague."

Although Robbie doubted whether that was the whole story, she bit her tongue to avoid interrupting Amy. The vibrant green slowly began to recede from her gaze as Amy spoke, the blonde lamenting how she had fucked things up with Fray and quite possibly Skuld as well. Robbie was silent as she mulled over this; from the sounds of it, she didn't need to say anything for Amy to realize that she had fucked up.

"He wasn't wrong; things just got heated because we're both assholes and don't know how to hold a civil conversation."

The urge to roll her eyes was there, but Robbie refrained, knowing that she was no better in that respect. The punk had certainly left a number of scorned friends in her wake.

"I wouldn't try to hold civil conversation with me either, though—his turning was my fault."

That was unexpected.

"How?" Lifting her gaze, Robbie looked to the blonde with something of a bewildered look. How was Amy responsible for Fray's turning?
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#7
At least Robbie was quiet.

That was.. something. Well, up until it wasn't because a question broke the silence.

"How?"

Robbie wanted to know how and Amy held back the urge to sigh and righted herself because she was pretty sure she'd phase through the caravan's door if she continued leaning against it out of frustration with herself. "I didn't have it in me to tell him of my intention to get turned." She explained and actually turned to face the punk, coming closer but ultimately taking a seat on the table instead of the bed. "He had been way too happy that night and I feared that.. by telling him, he'd either explode or spiral down the rabbit hole." That was honestly the truth. "So, I didn't tell him; I asked Skuld instead. She broke the news to him and he reached out to me and we had a fight over the phone over it."

A brief pause.

"We broke up and.. there's that."

However, that still didn't explain how.

"Shortly after, I learned from Skuld that Fray had been turned by some feral cat and that Asha would offer her assistance in the whole shifter life deal, give him a crash course of some sort. Thing is, though.. How likely is it for another shifter to help an unfortunate asshole who'd gotten turned by some random feral feline? If they are anything like vampires, I can't imagine they'd give a damn about anyone who wasn't their progeny." And was the conspiracy theory of the night, folks.

"He turned himself out of sourness and then turned Skuld out of paranoia." In Amy's mind, anyway.
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#8
Robbie watched without so much as a word when Amy righted herself from her reclined position against the door, listening as a story began to unfold. Amy hadn't been brave enough to let Fray in on her plan to become a vampire. It was difficult to imagine for several reasons, but Robbie remained silent. Meanwhile, the blonde chose to sit on the table they frankly never used; part of Robbie had hoped that Amy might sit down on the bed next to her.

Despite everything that had happened so far tonight, that part of Robbie still wanted to hold Amy close, comfort her, and make all of this go away.

If only things were so easy.

The story continued, revealing how Skuld had played the mediator between Amy and Fray. That they needed one at all made the punk wonder how they ever came to be a couple, but she supposed that was irrelevant right now.

"Was that when he said promised to stake you?" Oh, Robbie remembered that.

While she had swept aside her grudge over such a threat since then, she couldn't help but wonder if Fray would live up to his words after tonight. How close were the three of them, really? Were they close enough to overcome this, or would tonight make enemies of the few friends Amy and Robbie had left?

If Amy's story hadn't upset Robbie so far, then the next chapter involving Asha certainly came close. The soft look on Robbie's face darkened as Amy explained the part Asha allegedly played in Fray's turning, and absinthe green quickly resurfaced in that cold, far-off gaze.

Was Asha responsible for Fray, for Skuld?

It was a bitter-tasting thought, one that Robbie quickly cast aside. Now wasn't the time to brood over her former friend's involvement in things that couldn't be changed. Still, exercising such self-discipline was easier said than done.

"He turned himself out of sourness and then turned Skuld out of paranoia."

"How does he see it? Do you know?" As much as Robbie loathed to admit it, there were two sides to every argument, and she wanted to know his.

At what point did Fray decide to lay a hand on Robbie's girlfriend?
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#9
"Was that when he said promised to stake you?"

"He'd said that during our phone call, before hanging up abruptly," she explained once she'd offered a brief nod to the punk's query. It was honestly such a stupid thing, this fight. But, there was little Amy could do to reverse time; she'd erased his memory, of course, but the cuts would require an explanation in the coming days.

The absinthe in Robbie's gaze returned and Amy hated herself for it, her core tensing.

"How does he see it? Do you know?"

That was a good question.

"His cat dislikes us from what he told me which, in turn, makes him less than fond of us and on edge and that paired with our explosion months ago isn't a good combination, I imagine." She sucked in a breath, then, before shaking her head. "It doesn't matter." It did, but not as much.

"He won't remember."
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#10
Amy was receptive to Robbie's questions, which she was grateful for.

The punk supposed that the staking bit could be dismissed People said and did stupid shit when tempers flared, reason going up in smoke; Robbie this fact rather intimately.

As for Fray and his cat's dislike of them solely because they were vampires, Robbie couldn't help but feel that the dislike was mutual. While she didn't have a wild animal in her head, having to live downwind of the stench of cat piss, both figuratively and otherwise, wasn't an easy endeavor. Then there was the ever-present risk of their neighbors doing what shifters were known for, and Robbie had no desire to cross paths with a hungry or territorial jaguar.

"It doesn't matter."

"He won't remember."

"Are you sure?" It sounded like Amy had tried to use her suggestive magic on Fray. "Is that why he was angry?"
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#11
"Are you sure?"

Was she sure?

"Is that why he was angry?"

"Partially," she answered, her tone defeated and.. kind of out of touch as she fixed her gaze on the blood which had began to clot on her fingertips. The blood smelled of animal—to no one's surprise—but, despite that, she found herself weirdly.. curious. It was a strange feeling and mostly instinctual as she let her fingertips brush against her lips, tainting them with a blood that tasted unlike anything else she'd tried before.

It wasn't extremely unpleasant, but it wasn't something she'd go nuts over, either. It definitely tasted better than vampiric blood, but the animal stink that clung to it was rather insufferable.

But, back on Robbie.

"He won't remember tonight's happenings, but I'll have to come up with something for why half of his face is cut up." Amber eyes would seek out absinthe green ones and hold them for a moment before Amy pushed herself to her feet and went to wash away the blood that still remained on her fingertips.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this." An apology would eventually come, her gaze returning on the punk. It was soft, the way Amy regarded the weaker vampire, her eyes probably saying more than her words. She'd eventually draw nearer and sit at the edge of the bed if Robbie would let her, her mind still mulling over what had happened.
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#12
"Partially" wasn't all that comforting of an answer, but it was an an answer all the same. Amy's defeated tone was difficult to hear, concern written on Robbie's face as she watched the blonde. Then, to the punk's horror, Amy tasted the blood on her fingertips—Fray's blood.

Shifter blood.

"Amy." Had she lost her mind?

It wasn't impossible, and that terrified Robbie. Then again, how close was Robbie's own sanity from slipping; would she even be able to realize it?

"He won't remember tonight's happenings, but I'll have to come up with something for why half of his face is cut up."

Amy's gaze sought out Robbie's own, her eyes still possessed by that absinthe fire. Amidst the faerie flames, the likes of fear and worry inhabited the punk's gaze. Tonight had been a close call, and Robbie felt shaken for it.

Still, she found the strength to nod. "Okay."

At least Fray wouldn't remember what happened, so they had some room to fabricate a less damning truth.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

Robbie immediately shook her head, even though Amy was guilty in part for tonight's turn of events. Meeting those amber eyes, the punk heaved a sigh and let herself get lost within them; her shoulders relaxed as the absinthe green bled from her irises, leaving behind a natural blue-green tint by the time Amy sat down on the bed. Scooting closer to Amy, the punk reached for her hand.

"Don't-"

Her throat tightened unexpectedly, and Robbie blinked rapidly as she tried to figure out why.

"Don't scare me like that." She spoke with hints of anger, concern, and relief all at once. "You could've been hurt, and I can't handle that."
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#13
Maybe she was beginning to lose her mind or maybe her curiosity was borderline insane.

Though, truthfully, could the latter exist without the former?

Robbie's eyes burned an absinthe green whose intensity would remain imprinted in her mind even after she took a seat on the side of the bed and felt the punk scoot closer. Touch was something Amy was never against, but the abruptness that followed when Robbie reached to grab her hand had her flinching instinctively, crimson sparking in her gaze.

By the time Robbie found her words again, Amy's hand had phased through the punk's grasp, only to solidify a few moments later when the blonde made the effort to register the words that were being spoken. Robbie cared—really cared—and it most certainly didn't take an empath to pick the signals intertwined in her words.

A cold breath would inevitably leave Amy a few seconds later, finding it in her to relax some more and purge the tension from her body. "I know," she did, that much was true. "I'm sorry." And with that said, she'd lean against Robbie and kick off her shoes a beat later to pull her legs up against the bed. Amy genuinely wondered how many times of repeating the same words would take for her to sound like a broken record; surely, she was getting there if she hadn't reached that point already.

"You deserve better, I hope you realize." It was a softly-spoken fact, amber eyes attempting to catch aquamarine ones 'cause Amy doubted Robbie would take her seriously otherwise. They'd come here to supposedly make their lives better, but the blonde was failing to see how that had worked to their benefit.
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#14
It was still a weird thing to experience, Amy's phasing; her hand was in Robbie's grasp one moment and gone the next, ceasing to exist in the material world. Although Robbie was sure that the blonde meant nothing by it, her ability still new and difficult to control after such a stressful night, she didn't reach for Amy's hand again.

Then Amy said she knew how reckless she had been, how much she meant to Robbie.

"I'm sorry."

How many apologies were enough? How many before they ceased to matter?

Such questions drifted through Robbie's head, but she didn't dwell on them for long. Feeling Amy lean into her, the punk shifted a little so she could hold Amy in her arms. After everything, it was all Robbie wanted in that precise moment.

"You deserve better, I hope you realize."

The punk didn't know what to do with that, the uncertainty written clearly in her expression.

Did she deserve better? Hadn't Robbie's own choices brought her here?

Maybe it was karma, or perhaps her luck had finally run out.

Robbie shook her head, her gaze distant. "All I need is you. Nothing else matters."
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#15
Being held was perhaps one of the few things that made Amy feel alive still, fill the emptiness that had taken a hold of her lately. But, even if the embrace was a warm one despite the clear lack of body heat, it only manage to fill that void—whatever the fuck it was—partially. It was no one else's fault but Amy's and in that precise moment she sincerely hoped Robbie hadn't been graced with empathy.

But then the punk had to speak and Jesus fucking Christ, woman.

She was trying to brood here if you hadn't realized.

"Cheesy fucker."

The words would be spoken in a hiss, albeit a playful one, and she'd stubbornly nestle deeper into Robbie's arms without saying much else. Yeah, okay. You got her, she was amused. But also, no. You weren't allowed to toy with her mood by spitting cheesy comments which one would likely find in a cheap romcom.

At the very least, the bullshit that left Robbie's mouth kept her mind in the present, so.

That was a plus, she supposed.
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#16
Robbie laughed.

It was quite possibly the most uplifting bout of laughter she had experienced in a while, her arms still wrapped around a brooding Amy who only nestled deeper into their embrace. Smiling dumbly, the punk ended her laugh with a sigh. "It isn't my fault you found a dorky girlfriend."

The sudden shift in mood was jarring, but Robbie really needed it.

Resting her chin on top of Amy's head, the punk gave a quiet hum and closed her eyes. Fuck everything else for the time being—she was going to enjoy these precious few moments while they were here.
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#17
...

Yeah, okay. She couldn't remain brooding.

Goddammit.

Hearing Robbie laugh acted as a weird sort of medicine, forcing the corners of Amy's mouth to twitch in what was a ghost of a smile.

"Maybe I shouldn't have visited the Ranch that day at all, then." She hummed in response to the punk's words, feeling Robbie rest her chin on the top of her head. "Or tried to kiss you that night at First Draft—my bad." She shouldn't have gifted Robbie her cross either, Amy decided, or those rings.

Silence would wash over them for a few long moments, Amy's mind absently searching for a heartbeat to tune into only to find none.

"We ought to go out," as in a proper outing. "I have a red dress which, admittedly, I have yet to wear—couldn't find the right occasion." But oh no! The police were after your tail! Amy legitimately wondered if Robbie would say as much and protest as soon as she processed the proposal, but two words: dreadfully bored.

Worst thing that could happen was they'd get the cops to chase them down the street and she was pretty sure a vampire could easily outrun any vehicle—or police officer for that matter—if they bothered to tap into that supernatural speed boost that came along with immortality.

Worst case scenario? Amy would end up murdering another human being.

Oh well.
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#18
"Maybe I shouldn't have visited the Ranch that day at all, then."

Robbie rolled her eyes at the tease and the manner in which it was spoken.

"Or tried to kiss you that night at First Draft—my bad."

"You're full of shit," the punk said as affectionately as possible.

Kissing the top of Amy's head then, a gentle sigh escaped Robbie as a smile crept across her face. She had needed this so very much—this normalcy. It was like medicine, or a damn good narcotic, numbing the nightmare that had become their lives. Robbie would have liked nothing more than to continue their embrace until dawn, but the blonde in her arms had other plans.

Amy suggested that they go out.

"I have a red dress which, admittedly, I have yet to wear—couldn't find the right occasion."

Blinking repeatedly, Robbie tried to wrap her thoughts around it. "Really?"

There was the obvious concern of Amy's wanted status; all it took was some dumbass with a phone recognizing her face from the posters. However, the opportunity to leave these God-forsaken woods and go out together was just too tempting.

"What should I wear?" Robbie really didn't have anything that she thought would be fancy enough for Amy and her red dress.
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#19
Oi, wait. Hold up.

Had she given Robbie permission to move so she could speak? The answer was no.

Amy honestly wished they could communicate telepathically.

Amber eyes looked up at the punk when she blurted out a question which was either related to the dress or Amy's proposal to go out. The blonde was going to assume the former and cross her fingers she was right. "I don't really appear to be the type to wear a dress, do I?" It was spoken teasingly of course but, at the same time, she very much meant it.

As for Robbie's other question...

Amy was actually rendered silent for a moment, watching the punk with curious intent in her eye before she shifted a bit and angled her body towards Robbie because she didn't wanna end up snapping her neck. This angle was extremely uncomfortable for eye contact, okay?

"Let me twist things a bit," no horrible puns intended, people. "Why don't you wear whatever you're comfortable with, choose what I'll wear, as well as pick the place we'll be visiting?" Cue a curious head tilt. It only seemed fair after all the hell Robbie had been put through.
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#20
"I don't really appear to be the type to wear a dress, do I?"

Robbie wanted to ask whether that was supposed to be a trick question. Before she could, however, the blonde in her arms shifted somewhat so she didn't have to crane her neck so awkwardly to meet Robbie's gaze.

The curious glint in those amber eyes had the punk curious, and she was attentive when Amy spoke.

"Why don't you wear whatever you're comfortable with, choose what I'll wear, as well as pick the place we'll be visiting?"

That was... more responsibility than Robbie was accustomed to. Lately, the only thing she had been responsible for was feeding herself, and this seemed daunting by comparison. "I..." Floundering a bit, the punk blinked and tried to make sense of Amy's proposal.

"I'd like to see you in that dress, but I don't know where we can go."
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#21
"I..."

Was her question seriously that daunting, honey?

"I'd like to see you in that dress, but I don't know where we can go."

Amy supposed that was a fair response, 'cause after a minute of thinking or two, she couldn't come up with any interesting locations, either. Was this what they'd been reduced to? Incapable of finding interesting places to visit? Amy frowned and cast her gaze elsewhere as she tried to think of the places she'd been.

First things first, Larkspur, Cedar Creek, Belle Vista, Crestview, North Glenn, Cordova and Lavender Heights were out of the question even if the thought of visiting the last two to scope and kill her boredom did cross her mind. Not with Robbie, though; it wasn't worth the risk.

....

You know what was actually really annoying when you were undead? The fact that you couldn't go out to dinner like a normal human being. Sure, it was pretty darn convenient, not having to pay for food and water and all that, but god was it frustrating at this very moment.

Giving up eventually, she'd huff out of exasperation and flop back against the bed.

"I think I've forgotten how to have fun." Which was very, very sad.
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#22
About the only places Robbie figured they could go without pissing off some supernatural or another were Avondale, Red Rock, and Magic Hollow. Even then, Avondale had become dreadfully familiar, or at least the woodland areas within it. Robbie knew there was precious little about Red Rock that could be considered romantic, and she quite frankly didn't know much about the Hollow at all.

She was also well aware of the fact that they couldn't simply do out for dinner.

Rather, they couldn't without it being a bloody nightmare.

Amy huffed in frustration before falling back onto the bed, and Robbie did the same, lying on her side to face the blonde.

"I think I've forgotten how to have fun."

"My fun used to be smoking weed and getting into trouble." Looking back, Robbie could barely remember when trouble had been fun rather than life-threatening.
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#23
Anyone else got reminded of that Spongebob song?

Amy felt like Plankton's verse was pretty accurate right now.

F is for fire that BURNS DOWN THE WHOLE TOWN.

U is for uranium bombs..

N is for no survivors WHEN YOU-


"My fun used to be smoking weed and getting into trouble."

Blink.

Smoking weed no longer had the same effect and Amy wasn't sure if Robbie's term of "trouble" aligned with her own, 'cause usually Amy's trouble ended in blood or wrecked silver impalas and pissed off werecoyotes who probably wanted her head on a stick.

A huff leaving her, she realized that she actually couldn't do this.

So, after a few minutes of staring blankly at the ceiling and scowling mentally—and otherwise—she just gave up on life completely and phased through the bed. And their mobile home. And, why hello grassy floor and weird-ass pipes and whatnot that were beneath the caravan's floor.

"Fucking kill me."

She somehow had a feeling the answer was gonna be "no".
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#24
Amy merely huffed at Robbie's remark, which the punk couldn't really blame her for; they were already up to their necks in trouble.

She missed being able to get high, though.

The conversation seemed to burn out after that, and the two of them simply lay together until Amy suddenly phased through the bed and out of sight. Robbie immediately sat upright, fearful that the blonde might suddenly get stuck somewhere between the bed and the-

"Fucking kill me."

"Amy?" Her voice was muffled, but Robbie had definitely heard it. "Goddamnit, Amy."

This wasn't funny, and the punk crossed her arms as she wondered what to do. Kitty Pryde could get herself out of whatever bind she had landed in, presumably somewhere between the floor of the caravan and the ground.
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#25
"Amy?"

Yeah, that was her name, although she currently decided she preferred Lorraine.

"Goddamnit, Amy."

Hm, she'd heard that before, she was sure.

"You know, the space between the caravan and the ground is pretty big. Who would've thought." But she supposed Robbie couldn't give much of a damn about it, so after a few seconds of staring at whatever the fuck kind of pipe wiring was going on beneath the caravan, she bothered to roll off to the side and, y'know, stand up. Dust herself off.

"I would've suggested we visit your place to pick up some stuff you might want, but I have a feeling you'd like to punt me just for bringing it up." Not that a potential punt would stop Amy from reentering their mobile home; she was no wuss thank you very much. Still, once the door was shut behind her after she'd entered the place once again, there was a worrisome glint in those amber eyes and it was mostly because Amy had no idea whether she was stepping on a minefield with the mention of Robbie's house or not. But, knowing her luck, she probably was.

Regardless, she'd take a seat on the bed, gaze still fixed on the punk.
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#26
"You know, the space between the caravan and the ground is pretty big. Who would've thought."

Once again, Robbie found herself rolling her eyes. As much as she wanted to tell Amy to stop dicking around, the punk just couldn't find it in her to do so.

She eventually heard movement when Amy crawled out from underneath the caravan, even though Robbie had expected the blonde to take the shortcut and phase back into the caravan.

"I would've suggested we visit your place to pick up some stuff you might want, but I have a feeling you'd like to punt me just for bringing it up."

The voice from outside rendered Robbie speechless, and Amy would reenter the caravan only to discover a somber punk. It felt like such a long time ago since Robbie had last stepped foot in her home; so much had happened since then. Memories of home and the life she had left behind left Robbie feeling sad, empty.

Robbie seemed oblivious as Amy sat back down on the bed.

"There's probably nothing left." She had left in April? May? "Not exactly the romantic night out I had in mind."

The thought of going home and finding it empty—or worse, full of someone else's things—was too much.
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#27
Sometimes Amy had to question whether bleaching her hair actually caused brain damage or not, 'cause clearly that was not a question one was supposed to ask aloud. Dumbass.

She should've honestly expected this reaction and avoided this question entirely, but she hadn't.

A pair of worried amber eyes scanned over the punk, much like those of a puppy who'd chewed the legs of a chair out of frustration only to find its owner displeased when they returned home. Hadn't she known any better, Amy might've actually whined. "No, you're right. I shouldn't have brought it up," it was spoken gently, her eyes desperate to find the punk's blue-green ones.

"How about-" How about what, Hale? "How about you take a shower with me now and then I snuggle you on the bed afterwards?" Cue a head tilt as she paused for a moment to try and think of what else to say, only to come up with something that popped in her mind after she mulled over Robbie's words a second time.

"We can get high after the new moon is over, pay Magic Hollow a visit later."

A) That'd require a psychic which she was willing to find and B) sure, let's go poking around neighboring clutch territory.

Quite clearly, her eloquence was declining as the minutes ticked by.
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#28
"No, you're right. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Maybe one day." Or night, rather. "Just not... right now."

It was difficult keeping that door closed. Everything Robbie had ever known was at that farm, but going back would be impossible. There was no way she could go back to her old life, even if her home was safe.

Still, the temptation was there.

Blue-green eyes lifted to meet their amber companions, and Robbie felt a touch better for it.

"How about you take a shower with me now and then I snuggle you on the bed afterwards?"

The ghost of a smile played across Robbie's lips at the suggestion, and she nodded softly. "Okay."

Amy then went on to suggest that they get high and visit the Hollow once the new moon had passed, Robbie's brows lifting somewhat in surprise. As far as she knew, there were precious few ways for a vampire to get high. Nevertheless, Amy had a talent for making things happen.

Standing up, Robbie turned to Amy and held out her hand for the blonde's.

"That sounds like a plan."
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#29
"Maybe one day."

That was a phrase Amy was very well acquainted with.

"Just not... right now."

Ever-present was the temptation to just erase the dialogue centering around Robbie's house from the punk's mind, but Amy felt like using magic wasn't always the right way to go. Skuld had mentioned how people were shaped by every little thing that took place in their lives and, by reminding herself that, Amy felt like it wasn't her place to pull at the strings of Robbie's mind.

At least, the ghost of a smile the punk offered to Amy's suggestion eased the blonde somewhat, making return a smile of her own in kind.

Robbie stood up then and offered Amy a hand which she'd take, amber eyes fixed against blue-green ones as she let one of her hands reach for Robbie's waist, tugging the punk closer ever so slightly whilst the blonde stepped gently around her till she was behind the weaker vampire. With a hand keeping Robbie in place by the waist and the other resting lightly against the base of her jaw, Amy planted a kiss on the side of Robbie's neck, the movement easily betraying how the blonde preferred to feed from whatever unsuspecting meal she'd managed to mesmerize enough to capture.

"We should go hunting together more often." Because let's face it; leaving Robbie on her own wasn't any safer in the slightest. The possibility of her bloodlusting honestly terrified Amy well beyond what she was comfortable admitting and she'd rather be there to help clear any potential messes than not be there at all when Robbie needed her most.

So, excuse her as she delayed this shower with whatever bullshit decided to pop in her mind suddenly and also excuse her for leaning against the kitchen counter and keeping Robbie there too whilst she let her fingers get a hold of that shirt's hem and tug it lazily upwards.

Sue her.
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#30
Perhaps for the first time tonight, Amy's gaze met Robbie's own with nary a hint of fear in those sea-green eyes, the smile on Robbie's lips surer. Although they had narrowly avoided a disaster, Robbie was eager to put it behind them; a hand then fell upon her waist, Amy's gentle touch sending shivers across the punk's cool skin. She all too willingly moved alongside Amy, following the blonde's lead in their silent dance until another hand came to rest beneath Robbie's jaw.

A shuddering breath escaped her.

Robbie's head lolled to the side somewhat when she felt Amy's lips against her neck, her eyes half-lidded and dark with pleasure. The sensual touch quickly reminded Robbie of feeding, and the punk imagined what this would be like were she still alive.

"We should go hunting together more often."

"I don't know," Robbie began, careful not to disturb Amy's grasp, "I might be a little jealous, seeing you like this with anyone else."

It was an awkward attempt at levity, but the effort was made all the same. Perhaps Robbie was finally starting to feel comfortable enough to make light of their newfound existence, even though it was hardly new to them by now. Amy had certainly accepted her own existence between life and death, and she had grown stronger for it, in greater control of herself than the fledgling in her arms.

Robbie wanted that; she wanted to be strong.

The revelation was frightening, but also not.

However, Robbie was drawn from her thoughts when she felt cold knuckles brushing over her midriff as the blonde tugged at Robbie's shirt. The punk's smile broadened, affectionate and excited, but she allowed Amy to move at her own pace, one of Robbie's hands resting over the one pulling her shirt.

"Don't stop." It was barely more than a whisper.
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#31
"I don't know."

At first, the blonde didn't know what to make of such a sentence, but the answer came soon enough.

"I might be a little jealous, seeing you like this with anyone else."

Whether this was an awkward attempt at levity or the truth disguised as such, Amy was unsure, but she'd remain quiet in favor of continuing to work on Robbie's neck, the kissing gentle for the time being as half of her mind began to space out slowly.

It'd be a lie to say that the position didn't invoke bittersweet memories; a different kind of longing was beginning to take hold of the blonde and if she hadn't known any better, she might've just bitten down and pierced skin out of habit alone. Undeath was irreversible, but that didn't stop Amy from fantasizing how different things would've been had she been able to prevent Robbie's untimely death.

It would've opened so many doors.

It would've eased the frustration she felt at the back of her mind for never tasting that blood.

It would've spared Robbie from the mess that was their life right now even if it meant they'd never gotten together as a result.

But what if she'd been taken away by a furry beast instead? What if she'd been stripped from Amy just like Fray and Skuld had? Somehow, the prospect of being turned into a shifter was even worse than dying in a godforsaken alley and the blonde sincerely didn't know if she should've been disturbed by such a realization or not.

It didn't matter, though. Did it now? Robbie was hers.

Somehow—perhaps wickedly so—Amy felt a little better for it.

"Don't stop."

The words, despite being spoken in barely more than a whisper, elicited a hum from the blonde. It was an absentminded sort of sound, cold breaths ghosting over the skin of Robbie's neck as Amy put a pause to the kissing and removed her hand from the base of the punk's jaw in favor of getting a hold of the shirt's hem in a less sloppier fashion and pushing it upwards.

"Jealousy is bad for your health," a half-beat pause both in words and movement. "I don't intend to trade you for anyone else; you're mine." The last bit was purred, crimson flecks pushing themselves to the front of her vision and rendering it a speckled mess much like a starry sky painted with the wrong colors.
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#32
It was easy to let one's mind wander when in the midst of such pleasure. With Amy's lips working at her neck, Robbie simply indulged in the sensual nature of their embrace; there were precious few things she would rather be doing. Yet, bittersweet memories and fantasies of what could have been descended upon the punk as well, reminding her of what they could have had. Robbie imagined those cool lips against her skin while she was still warm and full of life, and it was a difficult thought to dismiss.

She told herself that it didn't matter—none of it did.

All that mattered anymore was her and Amy. So long as they had each other, then Robbie knew she could endure this nightmare that was immortality.

A smile crept over Robbie's lips when she heard Amy hum, the lips on her neck pulling away while the blonde moved to alleviate Robbie of her shirt. The tease about jealousy only bolstered that smile, and the punk hummed a little tune herself.

"I don't intend to trade you for anyone else; you're mine."

The emphasis placed upon the final syllable stole Robbie's breath away, as pointless as it was. Moving in Amy's arms to face her, Robbie saw the bloody stars of a burning sky in her lover's eyes. What a bizarre yet beautiful sight they were.

She raised a hand to caress that porcelain face.

"I-" Robbie faltered, but she didn't dare shy away. "I love you, Amy."
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#33
Her grip loosened as as soon as Amy felt the vampire in her arms shift and she genuinely wondered if she'd said the wrong thing, a thought which lasted for half a second before the blonde decided that she was probably going to get sassed and then dragged into the shower to get this over with already.

That was not what happened, however.

What happened was Robbie spilling her heart out. Right here. Right now.

Of all the things Amy had expected to hear tonight that was not one of them and she was caught so severely off-guard that she heard static in her head for what felt like eons but, in reality, was barely a few seconds. Those two words—as dumb as they were—managed to knock her off balance and have her spinning as she tried to wrap her mind around them, the meaning they held.

The fact that Robbie had tore her guard down completely, rolled over, and exposed her neck by saying as much. It was an unbearable degree of vulnerability and, honestly, it would've made her feel sick just by thinking about it, but it didn't. It didn't and she hadn't the faintest idea why.

Fray had confessed his love for her and, whilst it was moving, it'd also made something break on the inside, fall to the ground and die like a crow hatchling who had had the misfortune of stepping too close to the edge of the nest and losing its balance. She couldn't stand the vulnerability, couldn't stand the fact that she could not return those words with the same honesty he'd spoken them and, perhaps subconsciously, that same paranoia was dawning upon her.

The paranoia of dishonesty; of something that wasn't truly there.

The paranoia of shattering Robbie the way she'd shattered Fray.

And, if she did shatter Robbie, would she feel anything? She'd grown so apathetic towards Fray's case.

It was a strange thing, the mind, and Amy's had jumped so far ahead in such a short time that she was sure she was going to short-circuit and collapse on the floor and just stay there till her body decided to turn itself into a hollow shell from malnurishment. Crimson had bled in her gaze, her irises no longer speckled by traces of red, but rather flooded with it. Warmth rushed through her and she sincerely didn't know if it was just her mind playing tricks on her or if Robbie's words had somehow managed to bring legitimate warmth to something that was nothing more than a lifeless shell.

"I'm yours, Amy."

"I love you, Amy."

What the fuck was happening here, Amy.

It was all a blur; it all happened in a blur.

The task at hand momentarily forgotten, her mind was lost somewhere in space but, somehow, she was coherent enough to pull Robbie closer and let their lips touch, an action she hoped was better than a jumbled up sentence that lacked any and all literacy. Her grip would tighten, the temptation to dig at the fabric and tear it present, but she knew better.

Partially atop the counter as she was, Amy would pull back, eyes still very much a bloody shade of red and transfixed upon Robbie with a veil of haze over them. "I love you too." And good god, this was honestly the only time she felt fully sure of herself when returning such a sentiment.
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#34
Robbie knew.

She knew how powerful the forbidden words were. It had been so long since the punk last spoke them, for she knew all too well how destructive they could be. No two syllables could cause as much devastation and hurt as those that had just escaped her lips. For so long, she had been too afraid to say it, to speak the forbidden words and loose them upon the world.

Now that Robbie finally had, she was terrified.

Never had she felt so vulnerable, so helpless. Seeing Amy shocked into silence did little to ease the terror, the dread of perhaps making the wrong choice.

Had she chosen wrong?

Each second felt like an eternity, that awful fear gnawing at Robbie, all the while, spreading like a cancer. Yet, she was completely motionless throughout, even as a familiar absinthe fire consumed her sea-green eyes, mirroring the crimson that flooded Amy's own gaze.

But there was more than fear.

There was hope.

For an eternity, Robbie waited.

Then Amy pulled her closer, and, without so much as a single word, their lips met in a kiss. Although the two women had shared countless many of them by now, this one was different in its delicate touch. Instantaneously, the fear was banished, purged by a gleaming, splendorous emotion that even the empath couldn't possibly understand on her own, but perhaps she didn't have to.

Understanding it was as simple as hearing those words returned.

"I love you too."

With nothing less than the deepest affection in her absinthe gaze, Robbie leaned in for another kiss.
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#35
Robbie's gaze burned a hellish absinthe green, but unlike before, those eyes radiated an absurd amount of warmth and affection. It was almost crazy, completely nonsensical, seeing as such a color was naturally cold. Green never radiated any kind of heat and, yet, what Amy witnessed said otherwise.

Caught in another kiss and with her mind barely coherent of what the fuck had just taken place moments prior, Amy found herself lost once again, instinct demanding closeness despite the cauldron of emotions boiling within her. As a result, her grip on Robbie would tighten a second time, the blonde pulling the weaker vampire closer.

But, in the end, they were all monsters; weren't they? Some of them furry and some otherwise.

There was no denying the sway the new moon had to the undead, pulling and tugging at their strings as if they were puppets to a silver god dancing in the night sky. And, right now, that same silver god was pulling at Amy's strings for the second time tonight; she could feel it, this other side pushing closer to the surface after being suppressed and forced into submission earlier tonight.

The result was quite simple; the fabric her fingertips had gotten a hold of would inevitably receive some damage, the fibers tearing beneath her grasp as if they were nothing more but cheap cotton candy. It was the first warning and one Amy chose to ignore, only to be reminded a second time when the threat of fangs awoke her from her trance and got those scrambled thoughts back in line.

Finding the will to pull back and behave, Amy forced her grip to relax, crimson eyes studying Robbie as she canted her head to the side. "I think that's enough for tonight." Amy honestly doubted she'd be able to get any more physical without giving up control completely, her tone affectionate with a clear warning intertwined in it. If the exposed fangs weren't enough of a warning, then the blonde sincerely didn't know what would be.
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#36
The tightening of Amy's grip didn't go unnoticed as the blonde tugged Robbie closer, and she all too happily obliged. That closeness left her feeling warm, although the sensation was no more than a trick of the mind and the heart, even if it was silent. Their lips crushed against each other in another kiss, Robbie felt more alive than she had in weeks and months.

Unfortunately, even the best moments didn't last forever.

Such powerful emotions had disturbed the devils in them both—demons of red and green, wrath and envy.

Those devils lurked in the dark hollows where a living soul once existed, lurking and waiting for the soonest opportunity to seize control. Grappling with her own demons, Amy tore at Robbie's clothes, fabric and stitching coming apart in that distinct, shrill sound. A shuddering breath escaped the punk when she felt her lover pull away, and she reluctantly did the same. She met those crimson eyes with lust and hunger in her own absinthe gaze, nearly tempted to throw caution to the wind.

"I think that's enough for tonight."

As disheartening as those words would have been any other night, the affection in Amy's voice made it easier to accept. With a gentle nod, Robbie blinked before reaching for the blonde's hands. Something as simple as holding hands brought her such joy in that particular moment.

"Okay," Robbie said, her voice quiet but still so affectionate.
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#37
Holding hands was not something Amy had expected, but she didn't shake Robbie away.

"Okay."

It was spoken so terribly low that it nearly managed to make the stronger vampire regret putting a stop to what they were sharing. It would be unwise to keep things going, though, the blonde was quick to remind herself, the affection in Robbie's voice helping significantly.

With her irises still tainted crimson, Amy offered the punk a faint smile, maintaining it as she allowed one hand to phase through Robbie's own and reach up to caress her face. "I'm not going anywhere," she teased, her smile turning into a smirk as a certain kind of amusement flooded her mind.

But, as was quite common, this was a horrible, horrible lie.

Pushing herself some more, Amy strained to spread the veil of her ability to the entirety of her body, which.. quite frankly, had her feeling rather lightheaded by the end of such an endeavor. "But.. It's not like you can stop me, either." Forcing her other hand to become nothing more but a ghostly apparition then, Amy was effectively out of the punk's grasp, not so much because of distance but because it was impossible to catch someone who was basically one with the air you breathed.

Sparing her lover a bit of a toothy grin, Amy got rid of her shirt before moving backwards some more, the way she conducted herself clearly teasing. Eventually, she'd hit the wall next to the caravan's door, the same wall which decided the bathroom from the rest of their mobile home. "Now that I think about it... It would've probably been a good idea to let you shred my shirt in return," oops. With her back pressed against the wall, she began undoing her jeans, crimson eyes set on the punk all the while.
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#38
In those few moments when Robbie held Amy's hands in her own, the punk couldn't think of anywhere else on Earth she'd rather be. Even though the blonde soon phased from her grip, Robbie's affectionate smile remained when that same hand caressed her face.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," she said in kind, watching as Amy's smile twisted into a smirk.

The sight only made Robbie's own smile broaden as she wondered what was going on inside that blonde head of hers. In the blink of an eye, Amy became incorporeal, impossible to touch as she simply ceased to exist in Robbie's grasp. While the merriment in those crimson-stained eyes was comforting to some extent, the sensation of Amy quite literally vanishing was unnerving.

"It's not like you can stop me, either."

Stepping back, Robbie crossed her arms in a pout, watching with a smirk as her lover began to undress in the most teasing manner possible. Seeing Amy while unable to touch her was nothing if not torturous, the punk's expression clearly saying as much. Then Amy teased her about the torn shirt, which Robbie hadn't even considered before now.

"We'll run out of clothes if we make a habit of it," she hummed, following the blonde's lead as she quickly took off her own torn pajamas.

Soon, Robbie stood naked before her lover, an impish look in her fiery green eyes before she moved toward the shower.
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#39
"We'll run out of clothes if we make a habit of it."

That elicited a tune from the blonde, but she didn't bother with words just yet.

Crimson-tainted eyes watched Robbie in a haze as she began to undress, Amy's own movements ceasing momentarily as she let herself get lost in those absinthe green eyes. There was just something so mesmerizing about them, but every time Amy tried to understand what the fuck it was, she felt like she failed; words just couldn't do those eyes justice.

Content remaining where she was, she leaned her head back and breathed out a bit of a shaky exhale as soon as Robbie was out of view. Her eyes closed, the room spinning all thanks to Amy's stubbornness to push herself so close to the limit. How much easier her life would've been if she were gifted before her turning; the side-effects would've been toned down.

More manageable.

"If we run out of clothes, though, you'll finally force me to wear that suit I promised since I'd have ran out of options." A smirk lit up her features then, her eyes reopening to their natural hue after a few moments of getting her head straight. "But, you're not allowed to touch my leather jacket—I'll fucking murder you if you do." Nah, not really. She wouldn't touch Robbie; she'd just sob in the corner, plagued by severe sadness.

Gifts were valuable, okay?

Silence washing over them, Amy'd join the punk in the shower shortly after. By now, she'd learned that they were polar opposites when it came to showers, the blonde preferring ice cold water rain over her skin and Robbie, well.. Robbie liked to feel like she was being boiled alive.

It was a good thing they were undead, the shock of temperature change being reduced to nothing extremely jarring. Still, Amy, being the compliant person she was, decided to do the punk a favor and spare her from the cold showers she was so used to. Steam would fill the room, hazing everything over.
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