Grand Opening First Event

[abaxmods]

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you were knocked out. Maybe you were in the middle of a fight, maybe you don't even remember what you were doing at all. But regardless, you remember the darkness. It's crushing, all-encompassing. It fills your lungs and presses it's weight down on your shoulders, suffocating, overwhelming. It's so dark you can't tell

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[betrayedblade]

[At least that confirmed his theory of the zipper ...thing.]

Va bene. Ce l'ho.

[The feminine voice urged him to hurry as above all else he was a gentleman and could not stand the idea of a woman in distress. Plus the voice was that of a younger lady though in the back of his more primal mind he noted there was the dissonance of an older quality to it. His conscious mind easily ignored that as he worked the contraption down the line.

Admittedly, he was startled to hear the muffled banging and voice from somewhere else in the room and hesitated slightly. But ladies first, as the adage went. He finished unzipping the bag before worrying about pinpointing the other person inside the room.

Meanwhile, his mind tried to reconcile where he had heard that voice before. Had he heard it before? It sounded vaguely familiar...

His first glimpse of the young lady when the bag fell open told him see was in the same predicament as him and reminded him of his own state in the same instance. He turned away politely though the sight meant little to him of Firenze where the one of the alternate words for whore was born. He only hoped she was not bothered by his immodesty.

He took his time to concentrate and locate the source of the other voice, using his exceptional talents of perception to accurately pinpoint the correct compartment. With a backward glance to ascertain the lady did not further require him for just the moment, he headed for the compartment in the wall.]

Rest easy, I will get you out momentarily. [He called out to the hidden person.

He examined the small door for a moment but this was much simpler to figure out. It had a basic handle and he pushed down on it before tugging the drawer out slowly.]

[isanovice]

[ He was the odd man out when it came to the Italian, that, and from his position inside the freezer he couldn't make out their words very well anyway. He went still, ears straining to try and listen. To detect more. His eyes closed, as having them opened wasn't doing him any favours or discerning any further information anyway.

He picked out a word or two that he recognized, but most of all, recognized that the other had said he was being freed. So he lay still, waiting and trying not to allow the cold dread he was feeling at being trapped in such a small, confining space be allowed to unsettle him.

As soon as the table had been rolled out, Altair was getting upon his feet, and giving his two companions narrow eyed, appraising stares. His lips pursed, frown evident as he searched their faces for any hint of familiarity- but came up empty. ]

What is this? Who are you? [ The demand in his tone is obvious, and he longs for a blade. What trickery was the Underworld playing now to have stolen his weapons and robes from him? ]

[originalbarbie]

[rebekah ceases her furious tearing at the heavy fabric abruptly. she stills, fine-honed predator's instincts honed in on every detail she can feel about this man before she even sees his face. he's honest, first of all: the honesty runs deep in his words, as few as there have been so far.

then there's the even, calm rhythm of his breathing. it's almost unnerving. how can anyone, even a human be this serene? she doesn't really understand it. one of her older brothers has an air of quiet calm about him? but... he's a vampire. and has lived a long time to cultivate that.

and then.. that ever-present and tempting song of blood flowing through his veins. it calls to her, as starved as she is. and when the bright glare of the overhead light reaches her eyes... his neck is the first thing her eyes see. not his face, although she does look at him a moment later.]

Grazie. Sei un vero gentiluomo.

[those words are murmured softly, her tone belying the monster that lies hidden beneath the outer surface of her. gio is free to notice that the way she stares at him is with a disconcerting amount of intensity. honestly, she doesn't mean to.

her default reaction to everyone (including the man she can hear yet trapped in a freezer) is distrust. they shouldn't matter. humans mean nothing. what's one fragile life when she's immortal? and yet... these men are all she has. because her brothers sure aren't riding in on grand white steeds to save her day.

biting her lip, rebekah nods once, and then hops off the table in one fluid, graceful movement. ...ugh. looking down at the flimsy paper thing she's dressed in, she wrinkles her nose. now she really does look like a prostitute; showing off much more leg and thigh than she prefers.

this thought keeps her busy, until their companion is pulled from that icy drawer. when he speaks, rebekah answers without looking up:]

Who do you think? The Ghosts of Christmases Past and Future?

[eyeroll.] We know as little as you do.

[betrayedblade]

[Ah, now he recognized the voice! He had only heard it a few times before but the face he could never forget. The same face as his son and yet eerily different in all ways. The fuzzy feeling of déjà vu mixed with the realization that this was his ancestor all over again was a strange one. The fact that they were sharing the same space and time was still a bit odd.

He didn't dwell. It wasn't the time to dwell.]

I am Giovanni Auditore. We are Brothers. [And there was a definite way he said 'brothers' that left little doubt in mind what he really meant for the initiated.] And unfortunately that is all the comfort I can give... we also seem to have just awoke unexpectedly here.

[isanovice]

[ He was Giovanni's ancestor- yes, but despite he was still younger than the other, at least for the moment. Still had much of his life to live before him.

He recognized the other's surname, and a puzzled expression passed his features for a moment. He considered asking, but decided he was more interested in the woman in the room. In discovering who she was, as well. He was not sure if she could be trusted.

Irritated, he growled back: ] Who are you, woman? [ Not the most polite, this one. Especially when short of temper and in strange, uncomfortable situations such as this. ]