Tanith didn't know what was wrong with her. A moment ago, her heart had been racing, the blood pumping through her veins with an insistent purpose- to keep the blood flowing to muscles that had been growing weak. Now her knees weren't wobbling, she wasn't being swept away by passion, and the man trying to push her back onto the mattress wasn't beautiful. His lips were cold on her neck, and the hand up her shirt was suddenly invasive rather then welcome.
He had stopped, too. It wasn't just her.
Hey, wait. That man was Billy-Ray Sanguine. She been making out with him on her bed. That had to stop, especially since he had a grudge against her and the tenderness of a minute ago was completely out of character for him.
He knew it, too, and his hand dug into the soft skin above her kidney sharply. She pulled his hand out and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him off of her bed before he could do anything about it. Billy cursed, reaching for his razor- but it wasn't there. It was in his jacket pocket, back in the living room. Tanith's foot, however, was right there with her. She used it on his throat.
He coughed, unable to breath, and Tanith pushed past him and into her living room. Behind her, he wheezed and descended into the ground. Her sword was on the table. She ran for it, but needn't have bothered.
He melted through the floor for only long enough to grab his jacket, and then he was gone. She fixed her shirt, trembling, and sat on the couch all night. She was waiting for him to come back.
He didn't. That was good. What had happened was too confusing to figure out, and if he reappeared, everything would just get more complicated. She finally went to sleep just before dawn, her sword within reach and her mobile in her pocket.
In an alley in Dublin, a young woman stepped out of a wall. Her skin tingled with the energy from transition and the air hurt her lungs for the first few breaths. She coughed, falling onto her knees, and put a hand out in front of her.
It almost went right through the cobblestones before she focused on it, telling it to stay in this world, expletive. As she whispered obscenities, her knees rose out of the asphalt and her clothes' outlines solidified.
When she finally stood, Carica wished that she had thought to bring a map instead of needing to buy one as soon as possible.
So, here we are, and the plot thickens with our two favorite blondes! I actually have a plot-line too, instead of random drabbly ideas, isn't that wonderful?
Your hint for the next chapter is: What do you mean, Valduggery?