Klaus Teppes
"A snake in sheep's clothing"
Noise coming in the dark, something melodic and heavy in rhythm. Klaus' ears, unfocused only in the first moment, picked up the familiar beat. He quickly identified the song as Goldfinger's cover of "99 Red Balloons", a song he drearily identified as the ringtone he had assigned to his agent. She was certain to be calling him for the exact same reason she had the past two weeks. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have at all, and certainly not this quickly after waking up, a process he really had yet to finish.
The eyes came next, illuminating the world beyond his eyelids, Ivan became aware of just how dark the world truly wasn't at the moment. Opening his eyes, Ivan saw daylight, however subdued by the cloudy skies it was, streaming through the Windows of his apartment. He observed the time, eleven-thirty a.m., on his little digital clock radio before rolling to his left. Put into this advantageous position, he reached out blindly with this right hand and ensnared his cigarettes and lighter. Flicking his bic and sitting upright in one fluid motion, the flame sputtered out dye to wind friction. Swinging his legs around, he put a cigarette into his mouth. This time the flame stayed, and he brought the light to kiss the end of his cigarette, taking a deep drag of mentholated toxin. Smoking along the way, he passed from his bedroom to kitchen and started a pot of coffee.
At the last drag, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray, and now with a cup of hazelnut flavored coffee, he grabbed his phone from his bedroom. No sooner was it in his hand, than it started to ring once more, the same song, yet somehow more urgent sounding. Klaus poked at the screen in the little box that proclaimed, "answer", and once more on the little symbol which switched it to speaker phone. "You're go for Klaus".
His agent Fiona's voice screeched through his speaker like some sort of enraged cat, "Well good morning, since I've clearly woken you up yet again. You need to get some god damned work ethic boy, your next book does have a deadline! And not that I need to remind you, excepting of course the fact that I obviously do, but that deadline is only two months away!"
Ivan let out a sigh after she had finished the first wave of her verbal onslaught. He didn't need this, least ways this early in the morning. He replied, softly and slowly but with enough violence so anyone listening knew he wasn't pleased, "Fiona, I've explained this to you before, but for your sake I shall explain it once more. Writers do not work regular hours, it is one of the advantages of the profession. A writer need only meet his deadline, something which the writer is near perpetually aware of. I AM A WRITER! I will sleep, eat, bathe, and write when I damn well please... Now, I know that wasn't why you had actually called, so what's new darling?"
A pause as she absorbed his words. They were harsh, but in the least they were true. Only with Fiona could he get by, talking like that to his agent. She spoke in a tone Klaus knew to be only adopted when her playfulness ran out, and she needed him to actually be cooperative, "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, listen, you've been in Marbrooke for almost two months now. No book signings or anything of that sort, nobody even knows your living there. We need you to find a local bookstore, give them my number and we'll set up a signing. The sales of your first two books are up, but if you can get local, well let's just say we'll all get rich."
Klaus smiled at that. Already he had more money than he needed to live his comfortable lifestyle. But a little more never hurt, and if other people can benefit alongside of him, well things could be worse. "Okay, I'll scope some places out today. Much love bitch."
Klaus was out the door by twelve-fifteen. Despite the looks, it was a nice day, so Klaus wore no shirt under his suit coat. His tanned chest greeted the world as readily as the jovial grin plastered across his face. People would usually look at his handsome features, sometimes at his finely tailored suits, like that black one with white pinstripes he was wearing today. This was typically a good thing, as it distracted the people he was passing on the sidewalks from his feet. Constantly barefoot, whenever it was noticed, Klaus would give some horrible explanation about the Spartan boys not being allowed to wear shoes and so on. The truth was, Klaus just liked the feeling of the earth beneath his feet, loved the sensation of being connected to the earth. Even while travelling as a snake, Klaus far preferred to slither on the ground than to move about tree limbs as snakes often do.
In his travels he ended up towards an older, less incorporated part of town. A strong aura fell upon him as he walked through this area. Feeling this primarily through scent, he sniffed about subtly as he strode on. It smelled somewhat similar to the rest of town, the stench old magic left behind, including the scent of some rather powerful, perhaps even pureblooded, clans of witches. But here there was a newer scent, similar to one of the older clan scents. And to Klaus it smelled absolutely intoxicating, like honey and burbuon. Following this eventually led him to a bookstore. 'Fiction' was clearly a local store, and seemed to be exactly what Klaus had been sent out to find.
Entering and heading straight to the fiction section Klaus was delighted to find his works upon the shelves. His smile only widened at this point, deciding this to be the only place. Turning his head around and looking down various aisles, Klaus was unable to find any employees, or customers for that matter. In the deserted store he called out, "Hello, anybody work here??? I'm in need of some assistance."