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Mar. 21st, 2015 09:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mogget_catThe blood is only just beginning to fade from his white clothes as the Bright Shiner enters the bar from a deserted New Orleans alleyway.
Contrary to popular belief, there are parts of the city that aren't full of people at all hours. This happens not to be one of those parts of the city, admittedly, but things do quieten down in the short and nebulous span of time between the night owls going home and the early birds getting up.
That is when Yrael particularly likes to walk through the city, to breathe its air and feel its life, the precarious, heartbeat balance of order and chaos that allows it to function and thrive. Of course, walking through one's chosen city at those small hours also makes one likely to run into others who choose to be out at those hours. And sometimes, they are not friendly. And sometimes, they are vastly stronger than you.
(The leader of the group will have to find a creative way of wielding a knife that does not involve having thumbs. His remaining friends will need to learn how to aim their guns without the benefit of eyes. And their young, inexperienced recruit may already be reevaluating his life and perhaps choosing a vocation where he is less likely to run into unspeakable, shining monsters of light and swift violence. Yrael occasionally likes to do some good for the wayward young members of the community.)
Yrael's clothes are soon pristine once again; the last signs of violence vanish from his form as he takes a seat at the bar, and orders a glass of wine. Sated and pleased, the Bright Shiner turns on his bar stool so he might lean back against the counter and watch the comings and goings of the other patrons.
Contrary to popular belief, there are parts of the city that aren't full of people at all hours. This happens not to be one of those parts of the city, admittedly, but things do quieten down in the short and nebulous span of time between the night owls going home and the early birds getting up.
That is when Yrael particularly likes to walk through the city, to breathe its air and feel its life, the precarious, heartbeat balance of order and chaos that allows it to function and thrive. Of course, walking through one's chosen city at those small hours also makes one likely to run into others who choose to be out at those hours. And sometimes, they are not friendly. And sometimes, they are vastly stronger than you.
(The leader of the group will have to find a creative way of wielding a knife that does not involve having thumbs. His remaining friends will need to learn how to aim their guns without the benefit of eyes. And their young, inexperienced recruit may already be reevaluating his life and perhaps choosing a vocation where he is less likely to run into unspeakable, shining monsters of light and swift violence. Yrael occasionally likes to do some good for the wayward young members of the community.)
Yrael's clothes are soon pristine once again; the last signs of violence vanish from his form as he takes a seat at the bar, and orders a glass of wine. Sated and pleased, the Bright Shiner turns on his bar stool so he might lean back against the counter and watch the comings and goings of the other patrons.
