Doc Doc Goose.
Posted: 24 Jun 2016, 15:39
Chill air rushed him, sometimes in great roaring gasps, parting around his still form as he stood on the rooftop of Dragonal looking out over the nights neon landscape. He took another inhale of Sobrani and then flicked it over the edge that kept the height winds from sweeping a body straight over and down.
He looked toward the small service building next to the helipad, the quad of flashing lights that flickered LED blue every few seconds was interrupted only a few times as shadowed figures passed the alluring colour. The Sorc Squad, as he liked to call them in his mind. The smallness of the building was misleading, hidden in a back panel of the room, behind bits of equipment was another elevator that lead back down into the heart of the Necromancers territory. There was only one other way into the horrible decadence Dragonal sponsored down there, and he didn't believe anyone would want to take that route willingly... even the suicidal.
The Allurist wasn't surprised the magic was called on again for the night, times were tough here in the big HR, the city was near panic state and the military was a nightly presence in all their worlds. He knew that most were becoming used to it, he watched them become comfortable with the constant exposure... like sheep that became accustomed to the dogs that herded them, forgetting they were ultimately on the menu. He reached into his suit pocket, the Hermes he wore tonight was a true blue, nothing muddied in the colour to make you say... navy or black.... with rich magenta and silver tie flattering his olive skin tone with the reflections cast back up. Bertram never let him down when he stepped from shower to dress, and he knew the manservant had once again set the bar higher for everyone else.
Lighting another Sobrani as the last shadowy figure vanished into the maw, he looked back over the city, content to be left alone up here for the moment. He had things he needed to mull over and didn't want distractions forcing themselves upon him. Lorenzo was more than busy of late, his endeavors were all coming together, his race track, the whiskey bar... more his hobby businesses and a gentle reminder that Dragonal housed the every man's business as well as the large corporation it had become. The Fae were running rampant in town, doing God knew what and that pissed him off... what if they got the information he was searching for first? The little bastards needed nut cutting and soon... and he was moving his pieces on board to see the snip was as painful as possible. ******* fairies.
So it was with another flick of his wrist he pulled his phone out, thoroughly pissed off to be interrupted in such crucial times... but it involved his love, his Mortll and he was becoming more and more incensed each evening. Lorenzo Vaughn Dragomir, Childe of Nikolae Dragomir was not one to fall into petty jealousies, nightly chest puffings, or roars in the dark just so you didn't scream your fears... Enzo was the thing that made your fears... and readily so. He cared nothing for other vampires outside of his own. Cared nothing for the street licks and plebians who would never raise from thug, even with all the time in the world. **** them too. Hell if the masque came down... which he knew it would look around yourself...he'd help kill the vulgar bitches himself.
The Dragon had barely stepped foot into the renovated condo he and Mortll shared when she had told him she needed to tell him something. Mortll was never one to work herself up into vapors or need the proverbial fainting couch, fearless, beautiful, strong... guarded and delightfully multi-faceted... there were depths to her he was more than privileged to have been allowed to plumb and he looked forward to the continued unraveling. So when she had looked at him solemnly and then sat down beside him on the sofa to tell him of her last week of trials in the vampiric community, and that it had dared to show up on one of her businesses... well he was already pissed enough...
But then she had told him about the challenge to a duel made by Trahir Trahison... as that wasn't enough his woman was threatened, though yes yes she could take care of herself, Trahir had been using and toying with the beautiful Necromancer for more time than Enzo could longer allow. Lorenzo watched the Killer use his fiance and make demands that were beyond ridiculous.
Well that was just beyond redemption. No one used Mortll. No one.
His mind skipped over several scenarios until he latched onto one... one so devious it was almost too immoral for even him...
And then he texted Doc.
"Brother man, I need to meet you at Voodoo. Private booth. It's about the Traitor ****."
He looked toward the small service building next to the helipad, the quad of flashing lights that flickered LED blue every few seconds was interrupted only a few times as shadowed figures passed the alluring colour. The Sorc Squad, as he liked to call them in his mind. The smallness of the building was misleading, hidden in a back panel of the room, behind bits of equipment was another elevator that lead back down into the heart of the Necromancers territory. There was only one other way into the horrible decadence Dragonal sponsored down there, and he didn't believe anyone would want to take that route willingly... even the suicidal.
The Allurist wasn't surprised the magic was called on again for the night, times were tough here in the big HR, the city was near panic state and the military was a nightly presence in all their worlds. He knew that most were becoming used to it, he watched them become comfortable with the constant exposure... like sheep that became accustomed to the dogs that herded them, forgetting they were ultimately on the menu. He reached into his suit pocket, the Hermes he wore tonight was a true blue, nothing muddied in the colour to make you say... navy or black.... with rich magenta and silver tie flattering his olive skin tone with the reflections cast back up. Bertram never let him down when he stepped from shower to dress, and he knew the manservant had once again set the bar higher for everyone else.
Lighting another Sobrani as the last shadowy figure vanished into the maw, he looked back over the city, content to be left alone up here for the moment. He had things he needed to mull over and didn't want distractions forcing themselves upon him. Lorenzo was more than busy of late, his endeavors were all coming together, his race track, the whiskey bar... more his hobby businesses and a gentle reminder that Dragonal housed the every man's business as well as the large corporation it had become. The Fae were running rampant in town, doing God knew what and that pissed him off... what if they got the information he was searching for first? The little bastards needed nut cutting and soon... and he was moving his pieces on board to see the snip was as painful as possible. ******* fairies.
So it was with another flick of his wrist he pulled his phone out, thoroughly pissed off to be interrupted in such crucial times... but it involved his love, his Mortll and he was becoming more and more incensed each evening. Lorenzo Vaughn Dragomir, Childe of Nikolae Dragomir was not one to fall into petty jealousies, nightly chest puffings, or roars in the dark just so you didn't scream your fears... Enzo was the thing that made your fears... and readily so. He cared nothing for other vampires outside of his own. Cared nothing for the street licks and plebians who would never raise from thug, even with all the time in the world. **** them too. Hell if the masque came down... which he knew it would look around yourself...he'd help kill the vulgar bitches himself.
The Dragon had barely stepped foot into the renovated condo he and Mortll shared when she had told him she needed to tell him something. Mortll was never one to work herself up into vapors or need the proverbial fainting couch, fearless, beautiful, strong... guarded and delightfully multi-faceted... there were depths to her he was more than privileged to have been allowed to plumb and he looked forward to the continued unraveling. So when she had looked at him solemnly and then sat down beside him on the sofa to tell him of her last week of trials in the vampiric community, and that it had dared to show up on one of her businesses... well he was already pissed enough...
But then she had told him about the challenge to a duel made by Trahir Trahison... as that wasn't enough his woman was threatened, though yes yes she could take care of herself, Trahir had been using and toying with the beautiful Necromancer for more time than Enzo could longer allow. Lorenzo watched the Killer use his fiance and make demands that were beyond ridiculous.
Well that was just beyond redemption. No one used Mortll. No one.
His mind skipped over several scenarios until he latched onto one... one so devious it was almost too immoral for even him...
And then he texted Doc.
"Brother man, I need to meet you at Voodoo. Private booth. It's about the Traitor ****."