Post by wade on Dec 17, 2008 14:20:08 GMT -5
Here he finally was, within the city of focus. The spotlight territory. The place he had heard about in stories by his fellow kind. The place where the top rulers reigned and where each war was directed from. Yeah, Wade had jumped from many a coven to many a smaller clan. He did travel a lot, but this was his first time in this place. At first, he thought it wouldn’t be possible. After many rabid creatures of the wolves and vamps erected and spread out, travel was a bitch in the least. It was tough and damn near impossible. But he made it. Course, there should have been five others with him. Those five died with cause though, and at least one of them reached the end. Too bad it wasn’t one of their original clan members. They were a sophisticated bunch, the kind of bloodsuckers that appreciated their luxury and drinking from glasses. Wade could never be like them, but they served their temporary purpose. No wonder they died. They didn’t quite have that vicious nature required now ‘days.
Standing against a crumbling brick structure, Wade brushed his fingers across the smooth skin of his cheeks to touch the even border of his goatee. A low grunt of satisfaction followed as he used the same hand to pull the cigarette in his mouth away between two fingers. His other hand came up to the open zipper of the leather jacket he wore, at the same time he shrugged his shoulders, readjusting the material. Bright green eyes glanced around the barren street. As he did so, he brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took in a long drag. Breathing didn’t matter to the vampires, but it was funny the kind of burn smoke could still impact. It felt damn near to good.
Clearing his throat, he whipped the cigarette down to the ground. Pushing off of the building, a booted foot grinded at the small roll, putting it out for good. Pulling at the same part of his coat, he glanced at the inner pocket. Two packs left. Well, he was going to just have to baby them till he could find some more now wasn’t he. Well, he had to be thankful for at least getting to shave. Once he stepped foot in this forsaken place, the search was on for a water source and something close to a razor or blade. Course, after a moment of thought, it had hit him he did have a blade already, so a search for water at least. Rummaging through old shop ruins, he managed to find a gel can. If he hadn’t, oil would have been his next search. Behind the brick building he had been leaning into, there was a puddle. Grodey, but effective. He was already considered dead, there really was no threat of getting an infection or becoming sick. Besides, when you’ve lived in the south for as long as he had, in the time he had, you learn you really can’t be too picky.
With a final decision, he forced his legs to move forward, down the sidewalk, eyes scanning. The next on the list was to find others of his kind. Who knew, maybe these vamps would be able to relate to his style of a kill. Course, then again, maybe they wouldn’t. Speaking of killing, maybe he should have put hunting up before continuing his search. Bringing up a hand, he readjusted the fedora atop his head, making sure it wouldn’t blow off as he walked.
Standing against a crumbling brick structure, Wade brushed his fingers across the smooth skin of his cheeks to touch the even border of his goatee. A low grunt of satisfaction followed as he used the same hand to pull the cigarette in his mouth away between two fingers. His other hand came up to the open zipper of the leather jacket he wore, at the same time he shrugged his shoulders, readjusting the material. Bright green eyes glanced around the barren street. As he did so, he brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took in a long drag. Breathing didn’t matter to the vampires, but it was funny the kind of burn smoke could still impact. It felt damn near to good.
Clearing his throat, he whipped the cigarette down to the ground. Pushing off of the building, a booted foot grinded at the small roll, putting it out for good. Pulling at the same part of his coat, he glanced at the inner pocket. Two packs left. Well, he was going to just have to baby them till he could find some more now wasn’t he. Well, he had to be thankful for at least getting to shave. Once he stepped foot in this forsaken place, the search was on for a water source and something close to a razor or blade. Course, after a moment of thought, it had hit him he did have a blade already, so a search for water at least. Rummaging through old shop ruins, he managed to find a gel can. If he hadn’t, oil would have been his next search. Behind the brick building he had been leaning into, there was a puddle. Grodey, but effective. He was already considered dead, there really was no threat of getting an infection or becoming sick. Besides, when you’ve lived in the south for as long as he had, in the time he had, you learn you really can’t be too picky.
With a final decision, he forced his legs to move forward, down the sidewalk, eyes scanning. The next on the list was to find others of his kind. Who knew, maybe these vamps would be able to relate to his style of a kill. Course, then again, maybe they wouldn’t. Speaking of killing, maybe he should have put hunting up before continuing his search. Bringing up a hand, he readjusted the fedora atop his head, making sure it wouldn’t blow off as he walked.