Checking in, checking out... (open to Kara and later original_goblin)
Once Darla had the name of the hospital, it had not been that difficult to find the motel where a girl of Kara's description had rented a room in. The Immortal's minions were useful that way. However, by the time Darla arrived, Kara had left. This made for several hours of increasing taxi costs and search in every motel and hotel in Lewiston, Maine. By the time she finally found the right one, the taxi driver was entitled to a fortune.
Darla wasn't tight, but sometimes she longed for the days where one could just kill the hired help after an exhausting day.
Kara wasn't at the motel, either; she had gone back to the hospital. Which wasn't a place Darla intended to visit. She was here for Kara, not for Tucker Wells, Kara knew it, Warren Meers undoubtedly would know it, and to pretend otherwise would be hypocrisy. So she moved into a room of her own, showered, unpacked her own suitcase, and took herself, her laptop and Kara's suitcase to Kara's room. Getting a second key wasn't that difficult if that was your day for spending a lot of money anyway and had some convincing and unfortunately true sob story about surprising your daughter ready.
After unpacking Kara's suitcase, Darla passed the time by going through the scans of Hogarth Prints the museum had been offered and writing her evaluations. Then she slept for a while. There was still no sign of Kara, so it was back into her own room for a change of clothes and to the next fast food restaurant to get a horribly tasting Donut, and back to Kara's room.
By the time Kara finally returned, Darla had written two trenchant essays on Hogarth and one on the benefits of chains in private life. She also had spent hours wondering whether not getting herself sired immediately after her return to life and siring Kara at their first encounter wasn't the biggest mistake she made so far. She also tried out conversations of Doug the dog, Kara's stuffed toy which was lying on Kara's bed.
Well. It passed the time.
Darla wasn't tight, but sometimes she longed for the days where one could just kill the hired help after an exhausting day.
Kara wasn't at the motel, either; she had gone back to the hospital. Which wasn't a place Darla intended to visit. She was here for Kara, not for Tucker Wells, Kara knew it, Warren Meers undoubtedly would know it, and to pretend otherwise would be hypocrisy. So she moved into a room of her own, showered, unpacked her own suitcase, and took herself, her laptop and Kara's suitcase to Kara's room. Getting a second key wasn't that difficult if that was your day for spending a lot of money anyway and had some convincing and unfortunately true sob story about surprising your daughter ready.
After unpacking Kara's suitcase, Darla passed the time by going through the scans of Hogarth Prints the museum had been offered and writing her evaluations. Then she slept for a while. There was still no sign of Kara, so it was back into her own room for a change of clothes and to the next fast food restaurant to get a horribly tasting Donut, and back to Kara's room.
By the time Kara finally returned, Darla had written two trenchant essays on Hogarth and one on the benefits of chains in private life. She also had spent hours wondering whether not getting herself sired immediately after her return to life and siring Kara at their first encounter wasn't the biggest mistake she made so far. She also tried out conversations of Doug the dog, Kara's stuffed toy which was lying on Kara's bed.
Well. It passed the time.