Darkling0096
Me need nap
Participants:
Darkling0096
Generation_Delta22
With the pelting rain turning the streets to mud and driving most with sense to walk under the eaves of buildings, it was little wonder anyone with sense had stuck indoors. Taverns and public houses were fit to burst with how many people had come inside for a drink and to get out of the weather for a while. Others with no money or having other business to attend made their way under eaves and awnings, evading the rain and mud where they could, and all but sprinting across gaps in shelter where they had to.
Others were not so lucky as to have a choice in where they got to evade the weather. The poor and the cursed could get lucky, find a good spot out of sight to hide from the weather, but odds were just as likely that someone else would also find the spot, and a hobo was always expected to leave when a person that actually mattered appeared. Sometimes they didn’t go peacefully, and were ousted, taking with them a bruise for their troubles, if they were lucky. Depending on the temperament of the individual, they often weren’t.
A few establishments had signs at their doors in the common script, some with translations to other languages declaring who they did not offer service to. On most of them, that extended to cursed people. People with afflictions, magical, alchemical, otherwise, that rendered them… no longer people. A vampire looked like a person, but it was a monster, and services would not be rendered to monsters, plain and simple.
Striding under the eaves with destination set on a tavern with a bouncer at the door, a woman wearing a cloak with a deep hood to guard against the rain walked with heavy steps on the boards of the establishment’s porch. She stomped her feet on the edge of the deck to shake off the mud and water from her boots before taking a step to enter the building. The bouncer reached an arm out and blocked her path, shaking his head.
“Drop the hood,” he ordered, finding suspicion in the weight of her step. The sound of her footfalls was far too heavy for someone her size, something odd.
The woman smiled wryly, the bouncer’s gaze falling to her teeth. Did humans usually have that many canines? Reaching a hand to lower her hood, her eyes shone in the light of the door lamp. Not like a humans eyes simply catching the light. Like an animal’s, glowing in the dark. “Satisfied?”
The bouncer grunted, shaking his head and pointing at the sign. “No curses.” A standard response, one the black-haired woman had come to expect when dealing in towns.
“I’m not here to spread it,” she assured, “I just want a drink. I’ve got coin.” She reached under her cloak for her coin purse to prove it, but the bouncer put his hand up.
“Doesn’t matter what you’re here for, what matters is what you are, and I can’t let someone with a curse into the building.” The bouncer shook his head and tapped the sign for emphasis, “What are you, anyway? Vampire? You wouldn’t be able to enter without invitation anyway.”
Letting out a laugh, the woman lifted her hood back in preparation to go out into the weather again. “Fifteen years ago I was called a werewolf, now a vampire. I’m not sure if that’s better.” Turning around, she added over her shoulder, “At least this time it’s a doorman and not farmers with pitchforks and torches.”
With the pelting rain turning the streets to mud and driving most with sense to walk under the eaves of buildings, it was little wonder anyone with sense had stuck indoors. Taverns and public houses were fit to burst with how many people had come inside for a drink and to get out of the weather for a while. Others with no money or having other business to attend made their way under eaves and awnings, evading the rain and mud where they could, and all but sprinting across gaps in shelter where they had to.
Others were not so lucky as to have a choice in where they got to evade the weather. The poor and the cursed could get lucky, find a good spot out of sight to hide from the weather, but odds were just as likely that someone else would also find the spot, and a hobo was always expected to leave when a person that actually mattered appeared. Sometimes they didn’t go peacefully, and were ousted, taking with them a bruise for their troubles, if they were lucky. Depending on the temperament of the individual, they often weren’t.
A few establishments had signs at their doors in the common script, some with translations to other languages declaring who they did not offer service to. On most of them, that extended to cursed people. People with afflictions, magical, alchemical, otherwise, that rendered them… no longer people. A vampire looked like a person, but it was a monster, and services would not be rendered to monsters, plain and simple.
Striding under the eaves with destination set on a tavern with a bouncer at the door, a woman wearing a cloak with a deep hood to guard against the rain walked with heavy steps on the boards of the establishment’s porch. She stomped her feet on the edge of the deck to shake off the mud and water from her boots before taking a step to enter the building. The bouncer reached an arm out and blocked her path, shaking his head.
“Drop the hood,” he ordered, finding suspicion in the weight of her step. The sound of her footfalls was far too heavy for someone her size, something odd.
The woman smiled wryly, the bouncer’s gaze falling to her teeth. Did humans usually have that many canines? Reaching a hand to lower her hood, her eyes shone in the light of the door lamp. Not like a humans eyes simply catching the light. Like an animal’s, glowing in the dark. “Satisfied?”
The bouncer grunted, shaking his head and pointing at the sign. “No curses.” A standard response, one the black-haired woman had come to expect when dealing in towns.
“I’m not here to spread it,” she assured, “I just want a drink. I’ve got coin.” She reached under her cloak for her coin purse to prove it, but the bouncer put his hand up.
“Doesn’t matter what you’re here for, what matters is what you are, and I can’t let someone with a curse into the building.” The bouncer shook his head and tapped the sign for emphasis, “What are you, anyway? Vampire? You wouldn’t be able to enter without invitation anyway.”
Letting out a laugh, the woman lifted her hood back in preparation to go out into the weather again. “Fifteen years ago I was called a werewolf, now a vampire. I’m not sure if that’s better.” Turning around, she added over her shoulder, “At least this time it’s a doorman and not farmers with pitchforks and torches.”