(no subject)

[forourqueen]

Who: Gabriel & Random Meetings
What: Rogues do what rogues do best. Stalk people.
Where: Valhalla Inn -> Mafaton -> Who knows?
When: Sukkardi the 14th, Ruudary
Warnings: Some zombie gore.

Gabriel had never really expected anything else from this place, so the outrage from the violent scenes shown in the CiDs didn't bother him. Humans were evil, xenophobic assholes. Nothing new there. It just proved that this place was no different from Azeroth, and you could never be safe if you were a little bit different. (Then again, where was the fun in that?) If they acted this way towards the 'xenians', how would they treat the undead?

The fact that he could move almost anywhere unseen was a plus for someone that could be mistaken for someone far too interested in brains (not that he didn't mind a bite or two) but it made things a bit difficult when it came to moving Styx away from Valhalla. He needed to get away from that place and the multitude of confused newcomers, but the skeletal horse wasn't exactly easy to hide.... and it lacked Gabriel's stealthing skills. What kind of place would take such an animal, and how could he find out if he could not speak to people?

So what do you do about something like that? Beat up a guy, steal his clothes and hide yourself, of course! A hoodie was a bit odd for someone used to leather armor, but it covered up his rotted face quite well, especially combined with a scarf. Adding gloves and a baggy pair of pants, he looked fairly incognito. Enough to go out on the streets without hiding in the shadow, invisible for the naked eye... and hopefully he could meet people to wring out information from.

Even if they needed a sharp incentive.

Comments

[wontturntofoam]

Shrieky still wasn't quite up to straying too far from the Valhalla Inn. The city seemed almost impossibly large to him, but he was slowly mapping it out in his mind. He knew a route to the river now, and he'd spent the last few days slowly figuring out the streets surrounding the Inn, to try and drive down his chances of getting lost forever and freezing to death out in the cold somewhere.

Right now, he was poking through a second hand store. It had been politely drawn to his attention that beings which lived on land tended to require more than one set of clothes, or they would begin to smell eventually, and that this eventually was approaching sooner rather than later for him. So it was that he found himself slowly sifting through the outside rail of mismatched items of clothing, in search of something appropriate.

Skirts, he was well aware, were not appropriate. Especially since after his conversation with Himli, he was feeling particularly sensitive to the idea of having people accuse him of being a girl or wanting to be a girl, and skirt wearing was definitely not a gender neutral activity. So no matter how many skirts he came across, he was certainly not planning on buying one. Not even if they looked a million times easier to put on than trousers. Which they seriously did.

Pushing past the more masculine looking skirts which he absolutely had not been considering buying, Shrieky cast a dubious eye over the selection of trousers available, which was considerably smaller, and contained an almost infinite amount more buttons than the skirts seemed too. Perhaps somewhere would sell him second hand discount robes? That seemed like a viable option for the masculine man who doesn't care for trousers...

Flyside? If that wouldn't make sense, then anywhere else would work

[studious_snake]

When Jay passed the man with the covered face, he'd noticed something...a bit off about him, and it piqued his curiosity enough to make him pause. The street was uncrowded, and Jay decided, after a moment's thought, to flick his tongue out and get a taste of the air. No one would notice, and it would allow him to perceive better what was so strange about this man. With a flick of a temporarily forked tongue, Jay tasted...death. Decay. Enough to make him gag on it audibly. The face had been hidden from view, but not Jay's sense of taste.

haha I never saw this AWKWARD - still very up for things, though!

[indiscreet]

The fact of the matter remains that Anna wouldn't spend time in Mafaton if she didn't have to, if it weren't utterly, shamefully necessary as the only source of Vitae that could be called anything like satisfying. Baedal's knowledge of its "cruorvore" population took away so many options; vampire "groupies" (wasn't that the slang what they were called?) were repetitive, easy -- nothing like the thrill of anything she could have justifiably called hunting. It could be worse, she reminds herself bitterly. The other option for a society without a full Masquerade was of course that she be hunted herself, and killed. The city had already come frighteningly close to that happening.

It is easier to hear the Huntress's opinions with the Beast full and content. Once the skeletal horse would have been an object of horror and distaste, but her mind has shifted some since then and now, when she notices it, she is intensely curious. Well an approach won't hurt -- not her, at least.

"Your mount is a wondrous creature." She doesn't notice anything of note about the man holding the bridle. Indeed, he strikes her as disappointingly dull-looking.