[Action A - 919 Bilko - October 23rd, Early Evening]

[Natalie was a damned willful creature. Mayfield's attempts to overwrite her old life with a fake "perfect" one were doomed to fail. It could replace her vampirism with "a strange illness" that kept her out of the sunlight, it could make her think she actually did marry Keith Goodman, it could re-write her whole history to make her a pleasant-if-frail housewife... but it couldn't edit out Father. Not in a way that she would buy. The true things that she felt, she felt them far too strongly to ignore for long. But she didn't lash out. She wasn't ready to lash out. For there were still things to be done.

Things, apparently, like baking. She had tied on an apron and taken out her cookbook, and was spending the evening using up every last bit of flour and sugar and butter in the household. Pie crusts were rolled out, squares were baked and cut, cookies were perfectly portioned onto sheets... and each newly cooled batch was neatly tucked away in its own little basket or container or package.

The windows are open, even on an evening as cool as this. Delicious scents are wafting from the house. And if you'd care to investigate? You'll have a smiling Natalie greet you without a hint of menace or sarcasm. Those two things wasted valuable willpower. Involuntary and improper cheer was easier on the psyche, stubborn as she was.]

[Action B - Throughout town - October 24th, all night]

[It had taken an entire night to bake all of the things that needed baking. And there were quite a lot. And now? Now there was a lot of baking to hand out to her dear friends and neighbors. Baking with an ulterior motive. Each bundle contained a hand-written note in hasty, blocky print. She'd had to suppress the fake memories to get them written. But she was satisfied with the results. And so, she came to visit the following people....]

( For Ilsa Higa )

( For Charles Fei-Ong )

( For Cain Knightlord )

( For Nathaniel Howe )

( For The Onceler )

( For Hol Horse )

( For Doc Scratch )

( For Lucas )

( For Lili Zanatto )

( For Hajime Aikawa )

((OOC Note: If you're not able to tag in to take the care package from Natalie directly, she'll leave it on the doorstep so that it still gets received.))

[Action C - Streets of Mayfield, likely ending somewhere on Bilko - October 24th/25th, late night/early morning]

[One day to bake. One day to distribute. And as the third day threatened to dawn, she did the last thing she had intended to do. Now she would proverbially stand on a hillside in a thunderstorm and dare the gods to strike her down.]

You! I don't care who else is listening, but I know that you're listening!

[She jabs a finger skywards, as she stumbles her way down the sidewalk. This is meant to be a spectacle. Let's wake some neighbors while she shouts like a madwoman at the powers that be.]

So listen! Listen to me! You didn't break me! They couldn't break me, The Brood couldn't b-break me! I contain the truth, Father saw it, Father knew it, and you cannot... cannot quash the truth!

[A hand flies to her forehead and she lurches back, as she tries to fight off a renewed spike of pain. But a sick grin grows on her face, fangs visible within it.]

I am Natalie Waters, I am a vampire, I am a child of the Goddess, I am... I am an instrument of her vengeance...! I... I am not what you would have me be! DO YOUR WORST! DO IT!

[919 Bilko, Morning - Limited to Housemates]

[Another beautiful Mayfield morning dawns, but all is not well in the Goodman household. That pleasant drone wife has been replaced with someone far stiffer, deader, and somewhat mildewed-smelling. That alone might be bad enough. But she had been quite silent while things were dark. Now that there's sun, there's screaming.

As soon as the first sufficiently brilliant rays of light come pouring into the room, Natalie bursts from her spot on the bed with an inhuman shriek. She tears the blankets off the bed and wraps them around herself, but it's not nearly enough protection against the light. She can't see, with all of the brightness and all of the fabric covering her... it's making her efforts to find some sort of cover far too slow. A hand has crept out from the covers, and it's fumbling at the doorknob for the closet... it's also sizzling.]

OhgodohgodthesunnotthesunohfatherpleasenonotthesunfatherhelpmenoNONONOnonono...

[Around Town, Evening]

[It's a warm late-summer evening. A perfect time for light blouses and short sleeves. To hell with that, tonight. Not after the kind of morning Natalie had been through. Every inch of her is covered by clothing. Long sleeves cover her arms. Gloves cover her fingers. Her usual scarf is wrapped very, very high along her face. And her hair is even pulled forward to obscure her face even further, with just a slit left to allow for vision.

Really, the malfunctioning drones are a mercy, tonight. She needs blood, and lots of it, if she's going to be presentable anytime soon. Were you being annoyed by a particularly persistent drone asking the time or wishing you a good evening?]

...oh. Here. Let me take care of that...

[And she'll just be grabbing them, exposing their neck, and sinking her fangs in. Masquerade, shmasquerade. What was there to cover up, here? She was doing everyone a favor, honestly.]

[Action A - Around Town, early evening]

[Having been dissolved on her way out of the horrible carnival-town, Natalie had consequences to face. For the last week, she's been droned. A drone that somehow subconsiously knows that she can only come out and do her motherly duties in the evening, but that was easy enough to play off in idle conversation as "you know how my skin just burns right up in the sunshine, ha ha" and all the drones involved would smile and nod. She still seems, physically, dead and cold and unpleasant, but upstairs? Nothing but drone-fluff.

Until tonight. Tonight she may still have a grin plastered on her face and the wrong kind of tone to her voice, but her actions seem just about normal. She's checking the mail and cheerfully opening two little envelopes that were addressed to her. She's doing a bit of shopping at Bodine Clothes. She's strolling through the park. She's randomly snatching a drone off the sidewalk, ducking behind a bush, and draining it dry. Pretty usual things for her. But... well...]

You must tell me your recipe for apple pie!

[...it's a bit out of context.]

Isn't my darling husband such a dreamboat?

[Frankly, this drone seems to be going nuts. There's a good chance that if she sees you, she'll grab you, her posture shouting panic but her lips spouting nothing but pleasantries.]

What a lovely day in Mayfield it is!

[Phone, late evening]

...This has been a profoundly fucked up day. I... would like to possibly apologize to anyone that I might have... disturbed by my complete inability to make sense.

Is that supposed to happen? I'm not sure that whatever that was, it was supposed to happen... some wires must've gotten crossed...

I think I've been out of it for a bit. Have I missed anything...?

[Action A - 2240 Stevens Road and surrounding area, Saturday Evening]

[Natalie rose for the evening, she washed and dressed and groomed herself, and then she went downstairs to go and check the household. Hm, children clamoring for her to make supper, drone husband not home yet... and mail on the table? Ignoring the household for the moment, she picked through the bills and the advertisements, and then gasped in delighted surprise when seeing an envelope addressed to her. Without a moment of hesitation, she tore it open.]

Aah...?

[A piece of paper with a bloody gouge out of it. She held it up to the light with a bit of perplexment. All confusion was quickly gone, however, as a ripple of familiar power coursed through her. Magic. Blood magic. Cruac. A little bit of her power had been unsealed. Oh, it was going to be a good evening, wasn't it?]

Mom! Mom, we're HUNGRY! You've gotta make us something!

Mmm, right, right, of course, of course...

[Still with a smile on her face, she strolls to the kitchen. There's a moment of consideration at the butcher block where the knives are kept, then she pulls out a nice, sharp all-purpose chef's knife. Which she carries about with her as she pulls two TV Dinners from the freezer, removes them from their packages, and tosses them in the oven.]

Why are you only cooking two, mom?

They're for you and your brother, dear! I'm not hungry tonight... and daddy won't be, either.

Okay! Can we have ice cream for dessert?

As much as you want, darling.

[And how wonderfully convenient that she hears footsteps coming up the front walk right then! She just about skips to the front door, knife still in hand, and throws it open. It's her drone husband! How wonderful, just what she needs right now!]

Welcome home, darling!

Honey! How unexp-

[He has no time to express his dronish surprise. In one smooth motion Natalie sinks her fangs into his neck, sweeps him off his feet so his chest is bared, and plunges that knife right into his heart. Power requires sacrifice. Power requires spectacle. It's time to gather her power.]

[Phone]

Aaaah, did I miss anything while I was out? I think I might have... the phone lines are still hopping. I think I'll just listen in...

And there's a carnival! A real one! Isn't that pleasantly obvious of them? I don't know about you people, but I'm feeling reckless enough to want to go and explore it. It'll be fun, I'm sure!

[Action A - 2240 Stevens Road, early evening]

[It's a little late in the evening for someone to be baking, isn't it? But someone's baking. All the kitchen windows are open to let the heat out, and thus let the delicious smells out, too. While there are no pies cooling on the windowsill, they are cooling all along the counter. And there are plates full of sugary-sweet squares, and even a stack of cupcakes.

What the hell else are you supposed to do with your time when no one's out at night, you don't trust anyone, and you got a letter in the mail informing you not only of your membership in the Mayfield Ladies Club, but of your obligation to go visit some people and help with their problems. Normally she'd have nothing to do with it but... apparently this was her job and you had to do your job. Or else. So she was going to make the damned finest treats she could, and then shove them in their stupid faces.

Neighbors and passers-by, feel free to pester.]

[Action B - Around Mayfield, evening]

[Are you new? Are you upset? Did you just suddenly have a case of the munchies? Whatever the case... good for you! There's a knock on your door, and when you open it, there stands a vaguely corpse-like lady with a too-wide smile and the reek of rose perfume upon her, holding a pie. Or a container full of squares. Or some such.]

Hello! Is the lady of the house in?

[Action A - 2240 Stevens Road, Morning]

[First comes wakefulness, slow and creeping. The woman's eyelids flutter open, and then comes the panic. Sunlight. Sunlight, flooding the room, leaving no corner safe, engulfing her. Now suddenly very, very alert, she screams in terror and springs from the bed, hauling all of the blankets with her so they may serve as a protective drape.

She immediately falls over, bumping against the bedside table and tripping over all that wadded fabric. This only makes the panic rise more, and so she fails and wails and tangles herself all the worse in sheets and quilts, until her head finally pops free.

And then it hits her, and she stops screaming. It does not burn.

Housemates shall find her, still semi-entangled, palms pressed flat against the bedroom window, staring at the bright blue Mayfield sky.]

[Action B - Around Town]

[Along comes a new person, trying desperately, desperately to not look like a new person. Seeing a need to stealthily investigate the whole situation, she went and dressed herself period-appropriate for her information-gathering stroll around town.]

Hello, Mrs. Waters! Lovely day, isn't it?

Why, yes! It is!

[She's greeting the drones that greet her. She's trying to imitate their expressions. But she's failing in one key way... her smile is just a bit too big, and there's a darting, glancing panic in her eyes. Maybe talking with some real people will set her right.]

[Phone - Afternoon]

[The voice on the phone is giddy, a few steps away from outright hysterical.]

Well. Well! This is interesting. Very interesting. Certainly not where I settled myself down to bed yesterday. No no no. And it's such a sunny day, ahahahah, I haven't seen one of THOSE in...

[She breathes in, then lets out a musical sigh.]

...so am I alone, being so surprised at what a nice day it is? Yes? No? Are there any kindred spirits out there? Any of you? Aaaaanyone?

Don't be shy! I don't bite! Ahahah, ha... aaah... not in this condition, no.