01-23-2010, 07:17 PM
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638
starts out rambly because I had a grandparent hover over me, trying to talk as I typed
Once upon a time, there had been humans here, just as they had been everywhere else in packs and droves. They flocked, like fluttering parrots, chattering and squawking at everything they saw. Or the redhead had been told as much. The Chien Hotel, heyday long gone as it was, stood as a testament to the nature of those vacationing people, their helpful natives and their housing, and of a style that was gone with the bodies now fertilizing the earth beneath their feet. Those vacationing people had come here in their little family units, much smaller versions of the packs of wolves. Their pups, the children, would tug on their parents' hands down the hall, eager to splash in the chilly Atlantic waters and bury their fathers in their synthetic swimming trunks in sand warmed by a Canadian summer sun. Parents would go to the city for shows, shops, and restaurants. So much available to them! And all the while, the more acutely aware of them would observe the buildings they entered, noting when they were most likely built and the style of them. Spreading out from Halifax, the building styles changed in a strangely radial pattern, with clumps of buildings in similar architectural types in those rings. Some were homes and some where spots for the foreign humans to have a place to stay while they visited the area. That was another marvel of the humans; they could go anywhere they wanted in so little time. Cars, boats, and airplanes simply made every single part of the globe available. Everything was available to the Luperci, but the effort to get there was nothing short of difficult and long.
With his free hand, Strelein waved off the Church woman's comments. "No, no, I don't think they'd mind, especially if they knew you were here as a guest. We're supposed to be polite to guests, you see. Elsewise there is no point of us being a court," he said as he strolled down the opposite hall, passing his studio, his bed of cloth stacked in neat piles against the wallpapered wall. The lute and carrying bag were laying underneath the dark wood table and against the legs. The said table had been organized and the thread and needles on the chandelier were properly secured and neatly ordered once more. There were no active projects on the makeshift mannequin or the chair, so clearly the redhead had not started any more clothes since setting his mind to focus on the mural. Then, rounding a corner all of a sudden, the man climbed two short flights of stairs to the second floor of the hotel. A few meters from the landing of the stairs was an open doorway with light illuminating the dust in the air in the hallway.
"I started clearing out my room of my bed coverings and my other possessions. Think we'll need to find some dust clothes or something to cover the one dresser and the mattress?" he asked Mati as he placed the bucket just outside the open doorway. A chilly breeze wafted out of the room, for the male had opened the window in hopes of airing it out and letting the musty smell of winter out. Now it was cold, but at least it seemed much fresher than before. Strelein shut it with a quick click, grunting as he slid the window down with effort. "There," he said, clapping his hands together as he turned around to hopefully see Mati. The room itself was not covered in wallpaper, for the male had tried his hardest to strip it of the disgusting peeling thing with the water stains from a long gone era. "Will it do?" His tone was nervous as he rubbed his hands together to gather warmth from the cold pane of glass.
starts out rambly because I had a grandparent hover over me, trying to talk as I typed
Once upon a time, there had been humans here, just as they had been everywhere else in packs and droves. They flocked, like fluttering parrots, chattering and squawking at everything they saw. Or the redhead had been told as much. The Chien Hotel, heyday long gone as it was, stood as a testament to the nature of those vacationing people, their helpful natives and their housing, and of a style that was gone with the bodies now fertilizing the earth beneath their feet. Those vacationing people had come here in their little family units, much smaller versions of the packs of wolves. Their pups, the children, would tug on their parents' hands down the hall, eager to splash in the chilly Atlantic waters and bury their fathers in their synthetic swimming trunks in sand warmed by a Canadian summer sun. Parents would go to the city for shows, shops, and restaurants. So much available to them! And all the while, the more acutely aware of them would observe the buildings they entered, noting when they were most likely built and the style of them. Spreading out from Halifax, the building styles changed in a strangely radial pattern, with clumps of buildings in similar architectural types in those rings. Some were homes and some where spots for the foreign humans to have a place to stay while they visited the area. That was another marvel of the humans; they could go anywhere they wanted in so little time. Cars, boats, and airplanes simply made every single part of the globe available. Everything was available to the Luperci, but the effort to get there was nothing short of difficult and long.
With his free hand, Strelein waved off the Church woman's comments. "No, no, I don't think they'd mind, especially if they knew you were here as a guest. We're supposed to be polite to guests, you see. Elsewise there is no point of us being a court," he said as he strolled down the opposite hall, passing his studio, his bed of cloth stacked in neat piles against the wallpapered wall. The lute and carrying bag were laying underneath the dark wood table and against the legs. The said table had been organized and the thread and needles on the chandelier were properly secured and neatly ordered once more. There were no active projects on the makeshift mannequin or the chair, so clearly the redhead had not started any more clothes since setting his mind to focus on the mural. Then, rounding a corner all of a sudden, the man climbed two short flights of stairs to the second floor of the hotel. A few meters from the landing of the stairs was an open doorway with light illuminating the dust in the air in the hallway.
"I started clearing out my room of my bed coverings and my other possessions. Think we'll need to find some dust clothes or something to cover the one dresser and the mattress?" he asked Mati as he placed the bucket just outside the open doorway. A chilly breeze wafted out of the room, for the male had opened the window in hopes of airing it out and letting the musty smell of winter out. Now it was cold, but at least it seemed much fresher than before. Strelein shut it with a quick click, grunting as he slid the window down with effort. "There," he said, clapping his hands together as he turned around to hopefully see Mati. The room itself was not covered in wallpaper, for the male had tried his hardest to strip it of the disgusting peeling thing with the water stains from a long gone era. "Will it do?" His tone was nervous as he rubbed his hands together to gather warmth from the cold pane of glass.