Wren Bailey's Questionnaire

Wren lives in a studio apartment in Seattle. She's lived here since running away from her ex-boyfriend back in New York. It's as far as she could get while staying in a city filled with people in the U.S... at least, if you discount the hot areas. Seattle is also where she died, just last year. It's hard to walk away from something like that. So, she didn't. She just kept on keeping on, and has no idea how to move forward with her life. She feels like everything has stopped, and everyone around her is moving forward, and all she can do is just have a taste of their lives to remember what it's like. For now, anyway.

Wren gets her money from tips at the bar she bartends at. She gets very good tips. Currently, she spends it on making her place look good and able to have high-end guests over, so she can impress and make connections. It obviously goes without saying that she also spends a lot of it on her clothes, perfumes, and alcohol to help with getting herself snacks when needed. Lately, she's stopped needing to spend much on groceries, so she finds herself with a lot more money than she thought she would be able to get, and is trying to figure out what to even spend it on anymore.

Wren is starting to understand that humans are, at the end of the day, really only good for a few things. Being delicious, being everywhere, and occasionally being turned into something better. She doesn't quite understand yet what she actually is, but she understands enough to know that humans' place in the pecking order is similar to that of cows, relative to her. Those like her should be in charge, making sure the humans are comfortable and relaxed, so that they taste better. It would be a win-win, really! After all, chickens don't fly the coop because they want more freedom... They fly the coop because they're stupid. They don't understand what the highway is, they just see the pretty lights.

Wren's worst fear is probably finishing dying. Which, you know. Makes sense. After what happened to her, she sees that woman's red lips anytime something happens that she thinks could kill her for good. That, and her blood beading on her chin. And pooling out of the hole in her chest. Not gushing, no. Just slowly dribbling out. There was no pulse to push it through, after all. Just like how Wren doesn't have a pulse anymore. She feels utterly disconnected from herself, except for the moments when she feeds. Or when the sun touches her, but, that's mostly just the pain and nothing else. It almost feels like her heart starts up again, pushing her sludge throughout her body and making sure every fiber of her being hurts just that little bit. Just enough to remind her what she is, to distract her in important moments, to make her almost wish she was truly dead. Almost. Because she can't be truly dead, anymore. Maybe she'll never be truly dead. Maybe she shouldn't be worrying so much about this, but... Well, no. It does still bear worry. After all, she died. A true death. Her body was right in front of Wren, that day.

Wren's most prized possession is a silver necklace with a cross on it. She used to wear it every day, and she would rub it to calm herself down. So much so, that the edges have dulled, and the designs on it are difficult to read. Whenever she was overwhelmed by the things Ryan would do, or ask of her, she would take deep breaths and hold onto that cross for dear life. And for a long time, this let her get through a lot. Unfortunately, there's some things that it can't help with. For example, being turned into a vampire. At first, she kept trying to rub it and feel better, but she still couldn't bring herself to eat food. One day, it started to give her a rash on her chest. She didn't realize at first that's what it was, until the next day it started burning her. That's when she remembered what she read as she started researching this "vampire" thing. Some stories have them unable to touch silver. So her mother's necklace sits on her bedside table, these days.

The biggest problem in Wren's life is probably her being turned into a vampire against her will. These contracts are helping her to start to gain more control over her abilities, and come to terms with what she is becoming, but there's no way that being dead will get easier. And not feeling anything anymore. At least, not without stealing it from others. That's what she is now, after all. A thief. A Parasite.

A Tick.

So yeah, it's hard to come to terms with! It's hard to wake up every morning - Just a turn of phrase, of course. She doesn't sleep, anymore. So I guess the more accurate turn of phrase would be it's hard to look at herself in the mirror - She still has that, at least - knowing that the reflection looking back at her is just a corpse. Someone who ran away from their life and then died here in Seattle, far away from anyone who used to care about her. Lost.

Well, now that she doesn't need to sleep, she can spend far longer on her morning routine. She starts it whenever she gets bored in the middle of the night. A scalding hot shower, to try to warm her body up, and then putting on clothes that have been warmed by her radiator. She still looks good, and she knows it, so she makes that extra effort to take her from beautiful to drop dead gorgeous with her carefully chosen outfits. And, of course, the makeup. Without it, even the customers at the bar might eventually notice she's not just "porcelain" pale, but "dead" pale. And that's the last thing she needs - the ruckus that might be caused if someone called out what she was at work, of all places? No. She sets herself up to be the perfect show-piece. Look, but don't touch. That's where her livelihood comes from, after all.