2021-06-28 The Halal Hunt
Still Alive
Participants: Khadijah
Storyteller: Schultz
Location: Little Middle East, DTLA
Date and Time: June 28, 2021- 12:01 am
Summary: Khadijah works to hunt her chosen type one last time before vacating DTLA.
---<Khadijah>---------------
It's late but not too late. Right around midnight -- the prime time for nightlife in LA and the prime time for vampires to do their hunting. Such is the case for Khadijah, who is on a mission tonight and has gotten all dolled up to make it happen. As if in direct proportion to her hunger, her Little Black Designer Dress (LBDD) has gotten just that much shorter, and the cleavage that much deeper. She is no seductress, but it's all in the window dressing, right?
A small 'social club' at the end of the Jewelry District in the middle of Little Middle-East is where she's headed; where Muslims (mostly men) congregate after work and spend time when they might be home with their wives and families. But they also adhere strictly to their religious beliefs and will only eat food that was prayed over by holy men in the name of Allah. Which is very important to Khadijah.
So here is where she starts, this little social club that she knows the location of but has never been inside of. She slips in and looks around, looking like a whore in contrast to the modesty that these men expect of women, looking for a target.
---<Schultz>---------------
The place feels cramped, with men sitting around small, round tables, with wide-legged ease, gesturing and talking in small groups. While it's not a hookah establishment, a couple of t he tables have large pipes set up, and a blend of exotic tobacco smoke hangs discretely in the air. Tables are also laden with shared snacks that call to memories of homes far away: olives, pita and various spreads, dates, even some lamb kababs and eggplant dishes.
The men are mostly bearded and swarthy, wearing taqiyah, and they turn - at first with nondescript interest at the sound of a new arrival, likely expecting a familiar face. Instead, they are confronted with the image of Khadijah, in her scandalously revealing little dress (in this establishment anyway). She is treated to dropped jaws and wide eyes as silence spreads like a wave through the front part of the establishment, one set of eyes after another fixing on her, as man after man gapes.
The proprietor steps forward, rushing from behind a counter, where he'd been tending to teas. He is a man in his 50s, surely, with a mostly white beard, thick and curly, but with his upper lip and cheeks shaven. His hands are extended, as though in a warding gesture to keep Khadijah from entering too much more. "Miss," the man says urgently in Arabic. "Miss, I'm sorry, there is a dress code in here. I'm afraid you cannot be in here dressed like that!" He keeps his tone low, trying to diffuse the situation rather than make a scene, but he seems intent on ushering Khadijah outside.
+LOSE/+BURN> Khadijah burns 1 Blood. +ROLL/+DICE> Khadijah: Charisma + Performance vs. 7 -> 1 success. (9 3)
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah heads off her distractor head on by firing up her Presence. It's not particularly strong, but strong enough to affect the establishment's owner. And she isn't bothered by his protests because the damage is done; a room full of men have seen her dressed this way, and the image is burned into their psyches. "Don't worry Sadiq, I have this." Out comes a modest cardigan and scarf she can wrap around her head, which she does. "Let me stay please, I am missing by islamic brothers and sisters tonight and wish to be close."
---<Schultz>--------------- The power of Khadijah's presence sweeps over the man. With no will greater than the others, particularly, here, the nearest victim is caught up in it. His hands come together, wringing absently as he cringes, looking around, but finally bobs his head. "Yes, of course, if you cover up, sister," he agrees. "But please, next time remember, this is a place where we get to be comfortable in our traditions and values, ey?" He offers a smile nonetheless, the leceture gentle and with a paternalistic quality. He turns then, mullified enough, and he says, "Let me get you something to wrap your legs with at least.
---<Khadijah>---------------
"Thank you, my friend. I very much appreciate your understanding and hospitality." Hopefully he brings her a throw of some sort which she can use to cover her lap and legs as she sits down. The Arabic woman chooses a table to herself and presumes to study the menu, waiting to see if any friends join her, to chat of course. There is a game of checkers in front of her as well so once she picks something she'll never eat off the menu, she idly begins to play with the game pieces, moving and jumping them as if practicing, willing someone to come challenge her to a game.
---<Schultz>---------------
The older muslim man dips his head and then hurries back, placid demeanour subverted a little by the urgency he feels to wrap Khadijah's mile-long legs in something more concealing. By the time the man returns, with a suitable pashmina for her, she has her order ready. The man bobs his head and agrees, commending her selection and then hurries off again, to resume his tea-brewing and tending to other tables.
It is only a few moments later when a large man, broad-shouldered and with a small paunch beneath his well-tended and embroidered kameez approaches. "Masa'alkhayr sister," he grets, his voice smoky and rumbling all at once. He strokes a hand along his well-trimmed beard, this middle-aged man, before he notes, lapsing into a gently accented English, "I have not seen you here before."
---<Khadijah>---------------
"Masa' alkhayr lak." Khadijah replies back amicably, offering him the chair directly across from her if he's so inclined. "I must admit, I've passed by frequently as I used to work and live down the street, but have never had the nerve to come in. But, I'm a long way from home and a place like this beckons to me. It's like family waiting to be met." She smiles but inwardly cringes at her words that sound so phoney when all she wants to be is sincere. And she can't be. "Please, join me. Have a tea and share a game with me. Do you play this?" She points to the checkers game in front of her and smiles.
---<Schultz>---------------
The man pulls the chair back a little and sits down. He studies Khadijah for a moment, smiling slightly and nodding in understanding. "We don't usually get women in here, especially young and pretty ones. Usually, they either are obsessed with American culture, or they have families and obligations." He quirks a bushy brow slightly, a smile that might be intended to seem knowing but only comes across as smug as he notes, "Maybe you're finding the American culture isn't so fulfilling, hm? That you're missing these things that you still have time to get, God willing?"
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah sighs, swinging into full-on hunting mode deceptive drama now. "You're a very perceptive man, Syid..." she hints for his name, referring to him as 'Mister'. "I came to the United States only a short while ago, a woman of Allah and Islam, and now look at me." She laughs, realising he literally can't look at her now. "I've let the Western culture and all its cheapness get a hold of me and alter me. I've changed, and not for the better." She confesses softly. "But I long to return to my roots and be the woman my mother raised me to be." She pauses here, appraising him. "Do you come here often? Is this a moment to connect with friends? I almost feel badly monopolizing your time." Almost.
---<Schultz>--------------- Khadijah is, of course, charming and disarming. The man supplies, "Nasir," for his surname when prompted, and he cannot help but smile and nod companionably as Khadijah relates her tale of the wayward daughter of Islam. "Good," he answers with a nod, now reaching forward to slide a pawn forward on the board. Though he never answered her question, he evidently can play. "I think embracing your roots, and the *true* richness of faith would make your mother proud. Is she..." He looks up toward her, considering her for an appraising moment, "Still in Iran?" He then gives a soft "pah" and adds, "I can smoke the hookah with them any time. I have a chance here to help you, and I must do it, God willing."
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah smiles timidly, trying to play the part. Non-assuming, non-threatening. A daughter, a sister, perhaps a mother... but none that would threaten a man such as Syid Nasir. "She is... still back in Iran. As is my father and brothers. I moved to Saudi Arabia not long after my husband died." She lies. And then continues on with the small talk, warming him up with small details, true and not true, of her life back in the middle-east. She too takes a pawn and moves it a space, only partially concentrating on the strategy she is employing, fully prepared to allow this man to win. "Do you live close by? I only as as I must soon leave to check on my closed business one more time before my move is complete. It would give me such peace of mind if you'd escort me down there before I grab an uber to take me home."
---<Schultz>--------------- She has him eating out of the palm of her hand. He smiles as he takes the advantage on the chess board, her underplaying of her own hand feeding that sense of superiority and social order that underlies his whole intervention with her. After a few moments, looking up, he asks, "Oh? So soon? Your food has just arrived!" He gestures at the snack she had ordered, dutifully delivered by the proprietor moments before, while she was telling him about her life in Iran. "Come, inshallah, let's finish our game. And then I'll walk you to your shop. You can give me your phone number too, hm? I am sure I can find the right kind of man to help you reconnect with your faith and culture."
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah smiles and thinks to offer her hand. "Inaya Amir." She finally introduces herself with a dazzling smile. "I'll stay and finish our game, but suddenly I'm not hungry -- must be all this excitement. I wonder if I could offer this delicious food to you? Or perhaps we could have it wrapped up and send it home with you to your wife and family?" Oh yes, she hints. She knows how to play this game. And this one too... her knight becomes playable and she moves it two down and one over, angling for his queen and yet knowing she'll never take it if she follows the trajectory she is on. Silly, coy little games girls play.
---<Schultz>--------------- Schultz he picks at her food, falling into the trap of this predator without ever realizing it. The game continues just as thought it might, with him gently condescending his insructions and taking the bait in the far more dangerous game he has no idea is afoot.
Finally, before long, he insists on paying her tab - making a bit of a display about the two-figure check, and he rises to help her from her seat. And then, it is out into the Jewellery District, Mister Nasir brimming with confidence and slipping into this role of counsel and protector for the lovely, young-looking vampire.
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah chats as they walk amiably through the small cobble stone streets that make up this area of the jewelry district, fashioned to resemble a small Mediterranean village. Why, she was never sure but that's what it nets out to be. As they approach the old site of Lux Jewels, she leans up to the glass, her nose pressed against it and cups her eyes to see if she can see anything inside. It's all gone; jewels, display cases, lounge, lights... all been moved. "This was it. I've moved on now; bigger and better things." But she sighs and sounds nostalgic and wistful, perhaps with real regret. Finally she turns back to him with a melancholy smile. The pair are somewhat hidden from the street as they stand in the alcove right outside Lux Jewels' door. "I have one more thing to ask of you, before I find my way home. Could I... I mean, would you mind if... I kissed you? Just one small friendly kiss. It would help me connect with you, and home, and my happier times."
---<Schultz>---------------
The man walks along with her, content to expound and instruct, to fall into that paternalistic role he seems to keen to adopt with her. Finally, when they reach the closed up jewellery store, he stands back, watching her looking inside. His brows knit a little in confusion, at why she would want to come and look into an empty storefront, rather than the shop he had been expecting. Her request has him giving a soft "ah", and there is some reply - some exertion of his will, that slips away from him, as she cudgels his independence down and forces him to comply. "One friendly kiss," he agrees, stepping forward with a smile that just begins to waver. "On the cheek, though, yes? We do not want to get on the road to zina, ya Allah." He steps forward obediently, turning his head to present his cheek - and, coincidentally, the side of his neck - to Khadijah.
+ROLL/+DICE> Khadijah: Manipulation + Leadership vs. 3 -> 7 successes. (10 10 7 7 6 5 4)
---<Khadijah>---------------
Khadijah takes full advantage of his generosity. When his cheek is presented she stands on tip toes, but instead of a kiss there, she bypasses and sinks her teeth gently into his neck, inhaling his heat and the sweet, sweet smell of the blood rushing through his veins under his skin. If he fights her, she is prepared to hold his shoulders, but the Kiss should take care of that. Soon he's swimming in a euphoria of ecstasy, the world hypnotically humming and singing too him as a drug more powerful than heroin and more fun then ecstasy courses through his body leaving him shivering with pleasure.
When she's had her fill, which is not too much but just enough, she disengages her fangs and gives him a little lick. She never even had to touch him with her icy hands. "Now. Tell me how much you enjoyed meeting me, then say goodbye and turn and walk away. Bring the food to your lovely wife and explain that you and your friends could not finish it. Never think on this night again. You won't ever remember me."
She waits for him to comply, then pulls out her phone to summon a car to take her to her new home in Hollywood.
---<Schultz>--------------- The man gasps and tenses as the fangs sink in, before he slumps slightly, falling into the hold of the predator that feeds on his blood - blood that sates her and fulfills her Choice, filling her completely. He rocks and trembles in her grip, before he finally is released, weakened a little but not greatly. He stumbles back a half-step, reeling slightly from the intensity of that pleasure. "It... that kiss!" he breathes, staring at her with wonderment and awe, at the pleasure she was able to provide with a mere brush of his lips (so far as he knows).
He swallows then, bowing his head and he murmurs, "Of course. It was a p-pleasure to meet you, Sister. Good night." And with that he turns, as directed, and walks away, mind on autopilot for the moment, following the directions given to him, while it reels from the chance meeting with a creature he can't begin to comprehend.
A short while later, fed to full, Khadijah is able to leave behind the once-familiar, already a little different, and resume her new existence in Hollywood.
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