Post by Uri Novosi on Apr 26, 2014 2:59:46 GMT -5
Uri had spent the early hours of the night playing barfly. He had heard a rumor that his brother was somewhere in the city and Uri had come, but after a few days and nights of frantic searching Uri figured he must have missed him again and decided that he might as well spend his last night doing something he actually liked. Which just so happened to be party hopping, scuttling from pub to pub and somehow always winding up at parties meant to private and getting kicked to the curb. He could probably fight over it and maybe even win if he used his needles, but Uri wanted a nice, relaxing night and starting it off by stabbing someone in the eye with a needle didn’t seem like a great way to start it off.
The night was still young, at least for the Spirit where the night light was rough and wild until dawn broke and it wasn’t even midnight yet. The street Uri was walking along had once been a classy strip, but in the last few decades it had started to run down. The buildings around him were starting to wear down, the mortar was shrinking back and the bricks had started to chip, and beyond the quality of the buildings the street had all sorts of riftraft lounging about. Uri had to step over a few people who had already passed out and he had seen a couple fights starting to break out. And some little fae kid had tried to steal Uri’s purse! Of course, the shifter had grabbed him and snapped a few of his fingers, and he didn’t care much when the brat started to cry since if he’d been caught in the Boil he would have lost the hand the sticky fingers were attached to. These northerners were so rude, Uri was glad he’d saved the partying until the last night since if he had to go through this he would have given up days before, regardless of the possibility of finally finding his brother.
At least the night was pretty, even Uri had to admit that. There was no moon, it had either set hours before or hadn’t gotten around to rising just yet; or maybe it was a mix of the two. Uri had downed a couple glasses of something strong and was tipsy enough to not really care about the orbit of the bloody moon. The stars were nice, though. There was a great band of them stretched across the sky like dripped paint, fainter here under the city lights than in the dunes of his homeland but still pretty.
Uri shook his head and looked down the street with heavy brows, trying to shake the dull fog that accompanied a few stiff drinks as he tried to look for something else to do. He wouldn’t mind pleasant company but Uri wasn’t really one to go hunt it down. If it happened it happened, and Uri was more interested in what looked to be someone doing card readings on a table outside of a pub. Uri was superstitious, even for a shifter, and he was interested in what sorts of readings were going on and he squared his shoulders before drifted over to try to peer over the shoulder of the mystic to see what was going on. There was a crowd already being attracted, and Uri had to assume that the mystic was popular but it seemed as though the poor lass in the other chair was getting a rather unfortunate reading and looked on the verge of tears.
The night was still young, at least for the Spirit where the night light was rough and wild until dawn broke and it wasn’t even midnight yet. The street Uri was walking along had once been a classy strip, but in the last few decades it had started to run down. The buildings around him were starting to wear down, the mortar was shrinking back and the bricks had started to chip, and beyond the quality of the buildings the street had all sorts of riftraft lounging about. Uri had to step over a few people who had already passed out and he had seen a couple fights starting to break out. And some little fae kid had tried to steal Uri’s purse! Of course, the shifter had grabbed him and snapped a few of his fingers, and he didn’t care much when the brat started to cry since if he’d been caught in the Boil he would have lost the hand the sticky fingers were attached to. These northerners were so rude, Uri was glad he’d saved the partying until the last night since if he had to go through this he would have given up days before, regardless of the possibility of finally finding his brother.
At least the night was pretty, even Uri had to admit that. There was no moon, it had either set hours before or hadn’t gotten around to rising just yet; or maybe it was a mix of the two. Uri had downed a couple glasses of something strong and was tipsy enough to not really care about the orbit of the bloody moon. The stars were nice, though. There was a great band of them stretched across the sky like dripped paint, fainter here under the city lights than in the dunes of his homeland but still pretty.
Uri shook his head and looked down the street with heavy brows, trying to shake the dull fog that accompanied a few stiff drinks as he tried to look for something else to do. He wouldn’t mind pleasant company but Uri wasn’t really one to go hunt it down. If it happened it happened, and Uri was more interested in what looked to be someone doing card readings on a table outside of a pub. Uri was superstitious, even for a shifter, and he was interested in what sorts of readings were going on and he squared his shoulders before drifted over to try to peer over the shoulder of the mystic to see what was going on. There was a crowd already being attracted, and Uri had to assume that the mystic was popular but it seemed as though the poor lass in the other chair was getting a rather unfortunate reading and looked on the verge of tears.