Snippet #2766696

located in Seattle, Washington, a part of Wolves Reign: Blood Moon, one of the many universes on RPG.

Seattle, Washington

Seattle is not it's vibrant Capitol Hill or Space Needle attraction; it's dark, uninviting, and cold in more ways than one... Crime and danger lurk around every corner in this werewolf populated metropolis.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jared Geyer Character Portrait: River Grayson
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

Footnotes

Add Footnote »

0.25 INK

║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
R I V E R
XXXXXXXXImage
XXXXXXXX
Image
River floated in and out of her atelier all morning, visiting the kitchen to top off or reheat her coffee as the need arose. The soft humming of the servers accompanied by the faint padding of bare feet across the hardwood floor was comforting. She was enjoying the rare, quiet moment bathed in the cool glow of the monitors. Most days, the neighborhood was alive with obstreperous beasts who wouldn't know peace and quiet if they were smacked over the head with it. Hard. Today was the odd exception.

She took a long sip from the steaming cup cradled in both of her hands, propping herself up against the door frame with a well-placed shoulder. Her connection here within the confines of the ghetto walls was...well it sucked. She was tapping into the power from her neighbor's neglected line and still it would be another millennia before the download was finished.

River was considered an odd wolf by most. Quiet, thoughtful, intellectual. Though, she has razor blades for teeth when provoked.

It wasn't that werewolves as whole lacked intelligence. On the contrary, knowledge was usually a by product of time which they had plenty of since they were - in essence - ageless. It was technology that they were at odds with. Their whole lives were regulated by passes and chips, things unseen. Computer sciences was somewhat like religion to them in that it was summed up as something they didn't understand and feared. If only they saw the artistry of it. River's workshop was no cathedral, but to her it was just as beautiful...no, more so. It was a chancel for change, a doorway to freedom for a fortunate few.

A mongrel with no natural place to belong to had found a small corner in her world where she could be useful, wanted, and appreciated. Praetor Lupus needed someone like her, and that made her invaluable. She took another sip. Not that anyone knew she was a mongrel, that was her little secret. Mongrels didn't last long in ghetto Harlow.

Just then, no sooner than the notion to check her progress had occurred, some creature could be heard blundering about outside her place. Her head snapped in the direction of her blinded window. It was more than likely nothing, a sound only marked as odd or significant because of the unusual lack of noise, but her work made her paranoid and for good reason. Were she ever caught...She idled close, pulling a single blind down to peer out into the yard. The aberration met her gaze and River leapt back in surprise. What the fuck?! This was no unruly child crossing fenced barriers like they were lines on a hopscotch court. She hovered in place for a second too long, unsure if she should abandon her work altogether and scurry out the back. The creature decided for her.

A hard knock sounded at her front door and nearly made River jump out of her own skin. She clutched her drink a little too firmly as a growl rattled underneath her breath. Patrolmen? Couldn't be...who would be ballsy enough to tip them off and risk the ire of the rebellion? River stealthily sidled up to the front entrance, resting the mug on the nearby entry way table before peering through the peephole to get a better look at him. A man about her age, or appearing to be anyways, stood before her. He looked innocuous enough, and was not any official she recognized. It was too difficult to scent whether he was human or beast through the door. She cast a furtive glance back to her atelier before she made up her mind.

She deftly turned over about a hundred locks before she wretched the door open, straining the chain that kept it from opening more than an inch or two. Her body blocked the view of the inside of her place.

"What do you want." It sounded less like a question and more like an accusation the way she hurled it at him.