Don't Cry for Me, Argentina (Owl to Ivy from Rachel)

[racheltherunner]

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[racheltherunner]

Well, that had been...bracing. Turned out that goblins? Didn't like to be woken up in the middle of the night by a witch shouting 'Wakey, wakey!'. Who knew?

After a brief struggle - and a dislocated shoulder, so thank god for emergency rooms - I'd cuffed my goblin and gotten him to the appropriate authorities. Okay, and maybe I'd beaten the shit out of the little guy way more than was strictly necessary. But hey, girl had to get her frustration out somehow, right?

Ivy's letter came when I'd finally stretched out onto my cot. Luckily, the goblin had attempted to swing me out of a plate glass window by my left arm - my right one, though still sore, could write just fine.

And once again, a swing and a miss for our favorite vampire. But there was no way to tell her that without going into why I really had run away. And, to be frank, I was getting kind of sick of the owls. Mainly because they were telling me nothing.

So, I reverted to an old standby. Sarcasm to push away. Worked wonders.

---

Ivy,

As a conversation starter, did you know that goblins aren't morning creatures? Yeah, turns out they're a little cranky when woken suddenly. Live and learn.

Oh, no, can't stop now! See, I'm saving up for my very own pair of tooth caps. That way, the next time someone stops by your room and offers you something they've never really offered before even though it scares the hell out of them, you can just pop them on and pull the enormous stick out of your ass.

And if you paid for them, it'd be cheating.

- R.

---

Okay, so that was pushing it a little hard. What? I was tired and frustrated. I did my best bitch work under these very circumstances.

[tamwood]

Seeing as this letter had taken a lot longer to come through, Ivy had occupied herself by mixing among the crowd. It turned out that people were willing to forgive random insulting yelling if a woman smiled at them in the right way - and Ivy wasn't above using seduction to get her way.

She'd almost forgotten about Rachel, in the midst of chatting up one man. It felt like a night to go after a male, and he'd even seemed very receptive to the idea of blood-sharing with a vampire. Score one for Ivy Tamwood.

...Until the letter came along. Even though she was certain to be satiated by the end of the night, she wasn't going to ignore a letter from Rachel.

She almost couldn't believe what she was reading. Ivy knew that Rachel could be spiteful sometimes, but by the Turn, this was an abrupt change. Rachel had even gone after the goblin, despite Ivy's warning to just take it easy. She almost bit through her own tongue in anger.

Needless to say, the reply was hastily scrawled. She hoped that pen and paper would be able to properly convey her sarcasm.

--

Rachel,

Sounds like you're having a great time. Next time, just save me the trouble of writing - getting my hopes up and then reading that just wasn't in my To Do list today.

- Ivy

--

Sending the letter off, cold anger burning in her chest, Ivy promptly dragged the willing young man outside and into the nearest dark alleyway. He'd get his blood taken, but he was also going to get a side-dish of kicked-ass for dessert. Ivy needed to get her frustrations out somewhere.

[racheltherunner]

Passed out, the bird had to literally peck me awake. He got a beak full of grumpy witch and a shoe tossed at him for his trouble. There was another letter waiting for me too; this one detailing a run. Involving living vamps.

During the time I'd been in Argentina, I'd deliberately avoided any runs involving vampires, living or no. But what the hell. After reading Ivy's little love note, I was in the mood to kick some bloodsucking ass.

---

Ivy,

Oh, yeah. It's a fucking postcard come to life.

YOUR HOPES UP? BY THE TURN, TAMWOOD, I

I'll give your regards to the Martinez family. I'm paying them a visit today.

Have fun doing whatever the hell it is you do. Try not to bind anyone, okay? Last thing we need is a pet.

-R

[tamwood]

Heavy-lidded and quite satisfied, Ivy didn't even frown at the letter waiting for her on the table. She sat down, opened the letter, and licked blood off her knuckles as she read. Anything that Rachel said, Ivy was in a much better frame of mind to handle right now.

It didn't take her long to recognize the name Martinez; she'd met a few. Unfortunately, it only narrowed down where Rachel was, it didn't pinpoint. Apparently, Rachel was either in London, Greece, Argentina, or the Isle of Mann. Interesting choices.

Ivy left her own bloody fingerprints on the reply, though they definitely weren't with her own blood.

--

Rachel,

Watch out for Oliver, if he's there. He's been pining for a good challenge. He has a bit of a fetish for fiery young witches - his last one died because he forgot to feed her for too long. He's not quite right in the head, if I recall.

And don't worry. I'm very specific in who I claim.

- Ivy

[racheltherunner]

Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God. Not good. Not by any measure or any reckoning was this good. It was probably funny, on some level, that I knew just by the handwriting and the way her sentences were put together how Ivy's voice would sound. Or how her eyes would be that soulless depth of black. She'd vamped out but good, and that meant nothing but bad things for anyone who crossed her path.

Cursing myself, I pulled on my shirt and finished loading up my splat gun with potion pellets. There was no way I'd admit to the tight clench of nerves in my stomach at the thought of this run. But preparations were put on hold as I tried to find some way to respond to Ivy.

The first draft was one of guilt and contrition. That lasted about three sentences. The second one was a bit more on the bitchy side. But I ran out of steam before I could send it. It was that last line that cut me, just as the first part of the letter made me worry.

Finally, on my third cup of coffee, I penned out a quick couple of lines and sent it, before heading out to bag me a living vamp.

And no, my scar was not bothering me one bit.

---

Ivy,

Thanks for the tip. And you win bonus points for being psychic. I'll try to keep Mr. Fetish happy.

And you wonder why I won't

- Rachel

[tamwood]

After having fed and replied to the last letter, Ivy had simply collected the painting, walked back to the castle, and curled up on her couch. By the Turn, she felt great. Great enough to lie back and do nothing but listen to Takata's newest CD, singing softly along with the vampire-ears-only parts.

It was times like this that she truly understood why blood was such a passion for vampires. Newly fed, the sheer feeling of power and heat was enough to make her wonder why she'd ever sworn off blood. For the moment, there was no shame, no guilt - just a satisfaction that came with living to her true vampire nature.

The next letter Ivy calmly opened and read almost impassively, ignoring the worry that was dully flashing in the back of her mind.

--

Rachel,

You're a big girl, you don't need my tips to stay alive. Until you do, because you're too stubborn to realize when you're walking into real danger.

Do send me a letter if you get yourself caught. I'm sure I could work something out with the Martinez family to get you free; we've had dealings in the past.

- Ivy

[racheltherunner]

It was funny - a glass of water crashing onto dirt didn't make remotely the satisfying sound one might expect.

The run had been a mistake. Who else saw that coming? I had managed to get away without being bit. Barely. And when I said 'barely' I meant it in the most exacting of terms. I meant it as in teeth scraping the skin of my neck, and saliva dripping down to pool in between my breasts.

How I got away was a long story and not one I was dwelling on. Let's just say that ley line magic is no match for a vampire. Even one who thinks they've just found the Happy Meal of unbound delights.

Ivy's letter, however, made the sour taste of terror and helplessness that overwhelmed me on the Martinez compound seem like child's play. I hated her like this. I hated what feeding on blood, letting herself go, did to her. She became this thing, and I couldn't reach her anymore.

So angry (and worried, though hell if I'd admit to that) I was shaking, I scrawled out a few lines before tumbling back into bed. A whole day of struggling for my soul against waves of false pleasure did not a happy witch make.

---

Ivy,

Don't ever write me when you're like this again.

You can just go Turn yourself. I made it just fine without you before and I sure as hell can do it again.

Don't worry. Old Oli-boy is cooling his heels in the company of the weres he ripped off. Hope they take off his fucking head and stuff it full of garlic.

- Rachel

[tamwood]

It had been a few hours, and Ivy had dozed off - warm, content, sleepy from a full stomach and lulled by Takata's music. She'd wondered why she didn't do this more often - if she just let go of her silly little inhibitions, she could feel like this... constantly.

The next letter startled her awake. Reading what Rachel had written brought on the first stirrings of anger and worry, but it was too soon for any kind of real concern.

Nonetheless, she penned a reply. Three, in fact.

--

Rachel,

Your choice. Just don't come crawling back to me when you realize you've given up on friendship over something so insignificant as blood.

- Ivy

--

Rachel,

You didn't make it fine without me, and I think I've lost count of the number of times I've had to save your ass. Congratulations on the run, though. Poor Oliver is probably furious.

I might just have to drink blood more often. I feel fantastic. If I felt like this the night you came on to me, I never would have turned you down. We

--

Rachel,

When are you coming back? I miss

--

But all three of them were crumpled up and thrown behind Ivy's couch, never to be sent. She scowled at the bird until it went away, and curled back up on her bed. If Rachel was going to be like that, then fine. Ivy didn't need her.