Would you like fries with that?

Vorainne waited on the curb until the taxi pulled away, her eyes rolling slightly as she was finally freed of the cabbies constant stream of words. It seemed to her the moment she had mentioned never being here before, it had opened this colossal floodgate of mostly pointless information. She wasn't here to be a tourist.

Leaning down, she gathered her pair of suitcases up, her pack already slung over one shoulder and her coat back to decorating her lithe figure. She lifted her grey eyes up to momentarily study the sign of the restaurant the cabbie had left her at, boasting it had the best hamburgers around, a fact she didn't much care about either. Her only stipulation with hamburgers is that it was edible and wasn't floating in a puddle of grease. It only then dawned on her that perhaps she should have gone to the apartment she had rented, but had yet to see, before finding supper, but the taxi had already departed and the burgeoning bellows from her stomach were only growing more voracious the longer she stood on the pavement. Mentally shrugging, she entered the restaurant to be greeted by a lively loud place evidently trying to rescue the 50's from the shallow grave it should have been left in.

She stuffed her suitcases under the table up against the wall, her figure sliding onto the pale blue vinyl seat of the booth. She had selected a spot in a corner, windows lining her right side as she kept the rest of the restaurant and the doors in front of her. Some habits died hard ... or not at all. She had just found and flipped open the menu when a far too bubbly waitress greeted her, the young woman's pallid blonde hair bouncing in their pigtails around a face that still bore the softness of youth. Vorainne missed whatever the woman was saying to her, as she shoved the sudden black thought of what the girl's screams might sound like. Blinking a few times, she pretended to glance through the menu before laying it aside.

"Hamburger, fries and a rootbeer, please," she said, though she honestly had no idea if the waitress had even asked for her order yet. Judging by the lapse into silence, she hadn't.

Vorainne flicked her eyes up to meet the woman's face, but curiously found her gazing past Vorainne into the streetlamp lit strip beyond the window. Twisting around a bit to allow her own gaze to follow after the waitress's, Vorainne didn't waste much time in voicing her thoughts now, the cop in her surfacing dutifully, though she wasn't to report to duty for another week still.

"Something wrong, miss?"

"No ... no, its nothing," the waitress stammered, scribbling the gods knew what on her uplifted pad with her pen. "Did you want fries with that?"

Kyle walked lazily down the street on his way back to his apartment. The sun dipped quietly behind the highrises of the strip. Taking his sunglasses off, he tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket, the chill rising up around him. He recalled the last time he walked down this particular street. With a shiver he pushed forward, heading towards his highrise.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Looking down at his watch, he turned the alarm off and spit his gum out in a rather ungentlemenly like way. The neon piece of gum flew out of his mouth and directly onto a passing car.

'Oh shit.'

Wiping the moisture away from the corner of his mouth, he pulled out a small vial out of his pocket. In in were the pills from Nova.

'Little. Yellow. Not Nurpin.'

Popping two into his mouth, he looked around for a place to eat. Not feeling hungry in the least but knowing he hadn't eaten all day, he figured he'd better follow his girlfriend's orders and eat. His girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? He wasn't even sure how to get a hold of her. You have to have the girl's number if she's your girlfriend, right? Shrugging he looked up at the awning over the restaurant he was standing in front of and then pushed on the door.

'Oooh,' Kyle said to no one in particular. Classic greasy spoon. He loved him some grease filled hamburgers. His eyes fell on the patrons in the building, recently developing a suspicion that there were more vampires out than he'd ever realize. So half the fun was trying to recognize one, which he'd never be able to do, but still...Kyle was stubborn.

Sitting at the dirty chrome counter, Kyle rubbed his hands and waited for his waitress.

A pretty blonde waitress had come along and taken Kyle's order. His eyes were hungry if his stomach wasn't and he ordered a double cheese, large fries and a huge coke. As he inhaled the burger, he felt his stomach cramp that old familiar 'good lord it's really food' ache and he knew he must've been starving. The effects of the drug Nova gave him was odd. Hopefully he wouldn't have to take it for very long. The withdrawal symptoms had complete subsided for the moment and that's all he cared about.

Letting out a silent, yet manly burp, Kyle cleaned his mouth and hands with a napkin and looked around the room.

As the blonde waitress wandered off a tad bit distractedly to place Vorainne's order with the kitchen, she turned back to the windows to scan the street beyond once more. She idly watched some guy stop, pop something in his mouth then turn to face the restaurant. Not wanting to be caught staring, Vorainne flicked her eyes on past him, taking in the few others traversing the strip outside. She did notice out of the corner of her eye as the guy entered the restaurant but was soon distracted by the delivery of her order.

Picking through the plate of food, she had to wonder when french fries turned leafy and green. She said nothing to the waitress who had moved on to help other customers anyway and she really didn't mind eating salad instead of the fries. She worked her way through the food at a steady pace, finished off her root beer and pondered what her true intentions were for volunteering for the work exchange in the first place.

"Is that everything for you, miss?"

The waitress had snuck up on her, the overly cheery voice reaching through her reveries and dragged her back to reality. Vorainne shook her head; the sound of a manly burp from the counter behind the waitress brought Vorainne's eyes to flitting over to the man for a moment.

"Just bring me the bill, please."

The waitress nodded and moved off to do as asked, returning a moment later with a slip of paper and the mint. Vorainne glanced at it, fetched some money out of her pack and paid the woman. Sliding from the booth, she turned back around to tug her suitcases out from under the table, placing the first one just to the side and then went to remove the second. She swore under her breath as the suitcase stuck, her fingers curling tighter around the handle to apply more pressure. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in her ears, her head dipping forward in momentary defeat and she sat back down on the booth's bench.

"Excellent ... just bloody excellent."

Kyle paid his tab as the waitress wandered by again and stood up to straighten out his clothes. Dusting the crumbs off his pants, he heard a rather distinct rip and he froze. Turning around, he looked for the tell tale tear in his slacks but was confused as to what exactly might've caused it. Looking over his shoulder he caught sight of a women by the window struggling with her suitcase.

'Oh.' Kyle murmured and rubbed the stubble on his face. Did he want to go over and offer to help or did he want to go home?

Help.

Home.

Help and waste another hour or home and clean his pig palace of an apartment?

With a defeated shrug he walked over to the woman and offered his help. Ex alcoholic, forever a slob. He was an organized slob at least.

'Miss?' Kyle stuck his hands in his slacks and gave her a friendly smile. What was this? Kyle Evans being nice? Damn vampires. 'Can I help ya out?'

Vorainne blinked as a pair of feet interrupted her glaring at the floor, her gaze trickling up over the legs and the remainder of the individual now standing before her. His offer of help was welcome though unexpected, he was after all a stranger. She rose from her seat to gesture at the one suitcase still lingering beneath the table, its twin already sitting on the floor safely.

"The suitcase is stuck on something, I could use a hand setting it free," She said, a somewhat sheepish smile creeping over her full lips. "Maybe if I squeeze along the seat I can find what its stuck on and you can pull it out?"

She waved him toward the table, then slid back onto the bench, laying on her belly along it. She ducked her head under the table, one of her slender arms reaching around the lodged suitcase. With her figure stretched out as it was, her holster and gun peeped out beneath the edge of her coat apparently strapped to her side beneath her left arm. She found the bent nail in the wall, lopping the torn fabric off it and shoving the suitcase toward the front of the table, unaware of flashing the man a glimpse of ivory flesh along with the base of her gun.

Kyle nodded as the woman slipped under the desk. As she fussed, he reached up and scratched the side of his nose rather bored. When her shirt crept up and revealed her gun, he sighed dramatically. He had never seen the fascination in guns...he was a chicken shit runner and proud. He stepped to the side to block the view of anyone watching. He didn't feel like getting into an explanation about it. She was probably a cop, otherwise there'd be a much cooler hiding place.

The luggage pushed forward and he reached down to retrieve it. It had a nice little tear on the side but nothing major. He figured he was in for the long haul and reached out for the other piece of luggage. He'd be a dick if he didn't offer to carry them.

Again he sighed.

Nodding towards her, he tested his grip on the suitcase handles and asked her, 'So where you heading to?'

((OOC - leaving thread due to inactivity. Kyle out))