Post by epitagh on Nov 29, 2009 15:28:51 GMT -5
Long rusty copper red hair followed the short man as he walked into the club. For once in a long time, it was semi loose, since he unwove the braid halfway. His hair was braided midway down his back then was loose the rest of the way. His braid also was deprived of the normal needles that guarded it. The very front of his hair was loose so that some fell in front of his face. His best attempt at looking human.
He didn’t want to risk someone recognizing him, even though he was fairly new to the world. He wore a semi tight black long sleeve shirt. One of the various human garments he had found wondering the city. The garment was to tight and revealing for the historian’s taste. Not that it was skin tight or to small, but compared to his normal outfit, he was unable to hide many weapons in it. He only had about ten needles in each sleeve after modifying the shirt to be usable.
A silver cross hung from his neck stopping right above his solarplexis. While he had no beliefs in such a religion, it was better for hiding what he was and had a touch of irony to it. He had also had his pet peirce one of his ears, a bit of jewerly wasn't an angel concept, and he could use the earing as a weapon worst case scenario. the earing was a elegant cross hanging from his ear, he had sharpened the tip so that he could easily peirce skin and had poisoned it as well. The last bit of abnormal metallic accessories he wore were several rings, painted silver if they werent already. His opinion on them is that they could be used to catch blades or fight barehanded with if need be.
The last bit of human clothing he wore was the black khakis and thick leather belt that hung on his waste. His knife was hidden in his belt under his shirt, which he kept untucked. His sai also remained hidden in his boots. Various needles and poisons were scattered across his body. The only real bits of armor left on his body was the leather chest plate he wore under his shirt that was unnoticeable, and a few strips of leather padding he wore on his bicepts, forearm, calves and thighs. He had smeared some human blood on his chest and along his arms to try to mask his smell as well.
The human apparel was awkward and discomfortable to the angel, and hiding his wings was never comfortable either. But the best way to find a specific spider, was to look without provoking the rest. Ra'Lane's job was to gather information and thats what he would do. No matter how much he disliked the requirements of his job, he would accomplish them to the best of his abilities.
He had discided to bring his pet along, since it was best to go in a group. And it was not as if she could betray him. Not unless she wanted the poisoned tattoos to end her. Not to mention she was addicted to his blood. He had promised her a decent reward if she performed well, and he trusted she would.
The 'club' as it was called were nothing like the books descibed them. The hisorian guessed it was because of the conditions of the city. The club was still functioning, but wasn't much to look at. Loud music also rang his ears to his distaste. Alchohol and the stench of other beings was so strong he had to resist curling his nose. The club used candles mostly for lighting, the historian guessed it was to reserve as much of their electricty for the music as possible, though the angel still didnt have a great concept of the capacity of electrical power.
He had to pretend he belonged after all. He walked in smiling, his pet close behind. Putting on his best impression of a human. He walked in looking for someone he might be able to coax information out of.
(Sorry for any spelling errors, wordpad fails and when i transfered it here the spell check didnt wanna cooperate.)
He didn’t want to risk someone recognizing him, even though he was fairly new to the world. He wore a semi tight black long sleeve shirt. One of the various human garments he had found wondering the city. The garment was to tight and revealing for the historian’s taste. Not that it was skin tight or to small, but compared to his normal outfit, he was unable to hide many weapons in it. He only had about ten needles in each sleeve after modifying the shirt to be usable.
A silver cross hung from his neck stopping right above his solarplexis. While he had no beliefs in such a religion, it was better for hiding what he was and had a touch of irony to it. He had also had his pet peirce one of his ears, a bit of jewerly wasn't an angel concept, and he could use the earing as a weapon worst case scenario. the earing was a elegant cross hanging from his ear, he had sharpened the tip so that he could easily peirce skin and had poisoned it as well. The last bit of abnormal metallic accessories he wore were several rings, painted silver if they werent already. His opinion on them is that they could be used to catch blades or fight barehanded with if need be.
The last bit of human clothing he wore was the black khakis and thick leather belt that hung on his waste. His knife was hidden in his belt under his shirt, which he kept untucked. His sai also remained hidden in his boots. Various needles and poisons were scattered across his body. The only real bits of armor left on his body was the leather chest plate he wore under his shirt that was unnoticeable, and a few strips of leather padding he wore on his bicepts, forearm, calves and thighs. He had smeared some human blood on his chest and along his arms to try to mask his smell as well.
The human apparel was awkward and discomfortable to the angel, and hiding his wings was never comfortable either. But the best way to find a specific spider, was to look without provoking the rest. Ra'Lane's job was to gather information and thats what he would do. No matter how much he disliked the requirements of his job, he would accomplish them to the best of his abilities.
He had discided to bring his pet along, since it was best to go in a group. And it was not as if she could betray him. Not unless she wanted the poisoned tattoos to end her. Not to mention she was addicted to his blood. He had promised her a decent reward if she performed well, and he trusted she would.
The 'club' as it was called were nothing like the books descibed them. The hisorian guessed it was because of the conditions of the city. The club was still functioning, but wasn't much to look at. Loud music also rang his ears to his distaste. Alchohol and the stench of other beings was so strong he had to resist curling his nose. The club used candles mostly for lighting, the historian guessed it was to reserve as much of their electricty for the music as possible, though the angel still didnt have a great concept of the capacity of electrical power.
He had to pretend he belonged after all. He walked in smiling, his pet close behind. Putting on his best impression of a human. He walked in looking for someone he might be able to coax information out of.
(Sorry for any spelling errors, wordpad fails and when i transfered it here the spell check didnt wanna cooperate.)