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The bar was rather lively now; the height of the rafters did nothing to hide the details of the goings on from the eyes and ears of a wolf, especially in the warehouse’s dim light. Patrons sat on whichever seats they felt most comfortable on, having a chat with friends, some drinking troubles away with alcohol that would sometimes have surprisingly high or low effect on them, depending on race. Yet, despite all the faces he saw, he consistently could not find the one he was looking for. It was midnight; she had rarely been late to meetings in other locations, considering their purpose. He supposed the directions could have thrown her off. Part of the place’s safety and protection was the fact that it was nestled between other identical warehouses, all in a legal state of limbo; the city simply could not decide what to do with them. Sell them to companies for storage, refit them for business, demolish them as part of a beautification effort; the arguments were ongoing most days. For the moment, they stayed mostly abandoned, save for the occasional unwary gang or the bar’s patrons. And they would stay abandoned, with the continued efforts of slyer councilmen who usually paid a visit every other night. Other warehouses were empty, some filled with city equipment, a select few home to bands of various creatures of the night. Yet only one housed the location where any could come in safety during the night to feed and socialize between their own and other kinds. The directions could have thrown her off; but he suspected she was simply stalling. She certainly was not the type to be social among her own kind, and they were typically the most abundant of the patrons, considering that a good deal of the featured drinks contained fresh blood. He thought of the whimpers and screams nearly perpetually coming from behind the bar counter’s doors, and quashed the thought without hesitation. He was hardly hungry enough to try that at the moment, and he could find plenty of food elsewhere. While fresh, bloody meat was typically the most satisfying, there were plenty of other choices and delicacies around the city in this age. Even if it came down to it, the slaughteryards could fulfill that need quite nicely, and to abundance. Still, his stomach growled even at the thought of food, and he quickly turned his thoughts back to his charge’s absence. Sloth was not the only reason for delay; injury was just as likely as well. Brotherhood was not always a valid deterrent for attackers, especially in her case. Undead of such quality as theirs had long memories, and some would attack her upon recognition. If she did not attack first, that is. Still, he felt assured by the fact that he felt no residues of spells or hexes in the area, and they liked to show off more often then not before finishing matters up. Another twenty or so minutes, and he would try to locate her himself, he decided. His decision was quickly put aside, however, as none other than she walked through the vacant double doorway of the warehouse; in a ballroom gown, no less! He shook his head and smiled to himself; tonight was either going to go very well, or end very badly. He waited until she locked her eyes on him before discreetly jumping down from the rafters, and sat himself down in an armchair, whose legs promptly snapped under his weight. Very well, or very badly, indeed.
 Tezke · Tue Jun 09, 2009 @ 11:32pm · 0 Comments |
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