The Freethinkers
20-10-2004, 18:17
9 45 PM, Port Street, Gobathia, Navarre
Saturday night. Young teenagers taking too much, too early, their more experienced comrades laughing away as they carried them down the streets. Sailors and squaddies on leave, and tourists from all over. Two police officers stood in the middle of the pedestrianised road, watching out, making sure no-one got into too much trouble whilst smiling for the somewhat intoxicated gangs of giggling girls asking to touch their truncheons. Somehow the worst jokes and innuendo bought out the best laughs in these sorts of places. The smell of hash and cigarettes filtered from the below street level cafes on either side of the road, clouding with the mist rolling in from the Navarre basin just across the way.
However, anyone looking at the bars and clubs would had realised there was somehting unique about the place. Though most Freethinker youths were as happy as ever using the place, it was unmistakable who were the actual inhabitants around here.
To an almost cliched degree the Vampires loved Gothic decoration. Buttresses and Gargoyles sat high above peoples heads, and every surface, from the cobbled street to the arching spires above the roofs, seemed to be centuries old. It was beautiful in a dark and terrifying way, and this only added to the excitment of the place. Tourists, indeed, could be distinguished form the locals by the occassional camera flash from their digicams and mobiles as they recorded their visit to the place.
The vampires themselves were here too. A pale complex and darting movements gave them away, along with their deep, black eyes that seemed to follow everything at once. They were also taller and stockier then their human guests, and easily several times as strong. The Pathfinders on leave, especially, would have no trouble breaking up a fight in seconds if the need arosed.
A light rain settled down, drawing moans from several people, and the street crowd thinned somewhat as people quickly moved to the streetside establishments. The rain grew heavier and the crowds thinner still as a smartly attired woman in a knee-length form fitting dress ran along with the rest of the rain dodgers. Equipped with a thin coat, rain dripped down onto her dark red hair, entangling it and occasionally fanning out when her head turned sharply. Her pale complexion and movement gave away her origins from the humans around her, and any obnoxious glares from an intoxicated admirer were quick to withdraw themselves as she turned to them.
The woman was LT Kylie Maurice, a member of the Freethinker's National Intelligence Organisation, and she worked as an extraction operative, going into enemy territory to pull out vulnurable informants and witnesses. She had never failed. Tonight, however, was part of her weekend off, and a few old friends were in town for some reason or another. She moved down the street, her heels clicking against the stone as she half walked, half jogged to her location. Turning the corner adjacent to the sea front, the wind picked up, blowing out her hair and causing it to lose shape in spectacular fashion.
Kylie sighed and cursed silently, her only relief was that her fellow revellers were enjoying similar experiences. Her head turned towards the sea for a moment though, to take in the vista as she battled with her hair to regain some sort of style.
It was a view that reminded her why she loved this city, despite the weather. The opposite coast, the other side of Navarre, sat on the horizon, a line of yellow and white light showing where the sea touched the moonless nightsky. Dozens of smaller lights light up the water as boats and ships moved silently through the water. In the far distance the peaks of the Horndrake mountains rose in silent grandeur, breaking the far-off clouds with their white-capped peaks. Beautiful.
The present quickly returned to Kylie's thoughts, however, and she continued on her way to the bar. She had chosen the place, in retrospect, from memory. A nice quiet bar, elegant in simplicity, not too busy, not too quiet. She also got on well with the Bartender, a very, very distant relation indeed. She smiled as she saw it appear out of the mist. Smaller than the high-end nightclubs on either side, it looked quietly elegant nonetheless. Carved stonework and the typical gothic decorations littered its facade, and the stained windows were light up, highlighting the mythological content of theglass itself. Slow duke-box music came through the door.
Kylie smiled as she approached the door. The doorman nodded with a hint of recognition, and she smiled as she walked in, feeling with relief the heat from the fire and the quiet chatter of the regulars. She moved quickly to the bar, the oak floorboards creaking under her feet. The fire roared loudly, glasses tinkled and the people kept on chatting about nothing. She reached the bar and looked around.
With her looking for the barman were a human couple, giggling and kissing like made. Niether were that attractive, but Kylie wished the best for them anyway. Other bar proppers included an ex-Pathfinder helping himself to a bottle of whiskey. He smiled as he saw Kylie, and she returned it. The man was someone she knew, a Pathfinder who took a bullet far too close and decided it was time to retire. A century of service had seen him wealthy and respected, but like all soldiers he was haunted by what he had seen. Next to him was a pair of Goth girls, as tarty and tacky as Goths on the pull are, stirring their blood-coloured drinks with a mild apprehension. This being a Vampire bar, blood drinks were most definitely-served, and they were an acquired taste even for some vampires.
Kylie merely ordered a vodka and coke, passing over a five-mintel note in exchange for the drink. The bartender tonight wasn't her friend, just some tarted-up human girl with a sulk and a slouch, who gave Kylie her change back with a look on her face that suggested intense apathy. Kylie simply took the money and found a cornerbooth in which to sit. She quickly tried to fix her hair as she watched the other people in the room. Aside from the bar propers, there were three Vampires, obviously Pathfinders from their sheer size, laughing with pint glasses in their hands next to the fire. A few sets of students starting the night off were also here, having a quick, cheap drink before hitting the proper clubs. To top it off, a number of middle aged humans, balding and obviously desperate to cling onto the last vestitages of youth, sat confidently at their tables. Kylie smirked and checked her watch.
9.55 she thought, should be here any minute.
OOC: This is a UnAPS RP only. please don't post if you are not involved. Thank you.
Saturday night. Young teenagers taking too much, too early, their more experienced comrades laughing away as they carried them down the streets. Sailors and squaddies on leave, and tourists from all over. Two police officers stood in the middle of the pedestrianised road, watching out, making sure no-one got into too much trouble whilst smiling for the somewhat intoxicated gangs of giggling girls asking to touch their truncheons. Somehow the worst jokes and innuendo bought out the best laughs in these sorts of places. The smell of hash and cigarettes filtered from the below street level cafes on either side of the road, clouding with the mist rolling in from the Navarre basin just across the way.
However, anyone looking at the bars and clubs would had realised there was somehting unique about the place. Though most Freethinker youths were as happy as ever using the place, it was unmistakable who were the actual inhabitants around here.
To an almost cliched degree the Vampires loved Gothic decoration. Buttresses and Gargoyles sat high above peoples heads, and every surface, from the cobbled street to the arching spires above the roofs, seemed to be centuries old. It was beautiful in a dark and terrifying way, and this only added to the excitment of the place. Tourists, indeed, could be distinguished form the locals by the occassional camera flash from their digicams and mobiles as they recorded their visit to the place.
The vampires themselves were here too. A pale complex and darting movements gave them away, along with their deep, black eyes that seemed to follow everything at once. They were also taller and stockier then their human guests, and easily several times as strong. The Pathfinders on leave, especially, would have no trouble breaking up a fight in seconds if the need arosed.
A light rain settled down, drawing moans from several people, and the street crowd thinned somewhat as people quickly moved to the streetside establishments. The rain grew heavier and the crowds thinner still as a smartly attired woman in a knee-length form fitting dress ran along with the rest of the rain dodgers. Equipped with a thin coat, rain dripped down onto her dark red hair, entangling it and occasionally fanning out when her head turned sharply. Her pale complexion and movement gave away her origins from the humans around her, and any obnoxious glares from an intoxicated admirer were quick to withdraw themselves as she turned to them.
The woman was LT Kylie Maurice, a member of the Freethinker's National Intelligence Organisation, and she worked as an extraction operative, going into enemy territory to pull out vulnurable informants and witnesses. She had never failed. Tonight, however, was part of her weekend off, and a few old friends were in town for some reason or another. She moved down the street, her heels clicking against the stone as she half walked, half jogged to her location. Turning the corner adjacent to the sea front, the wind picked up, blowing out her hair and causing it to lose shape in spectacular fashion.
Kylie sighed and cursed silently, her only relief was that her fellow revellers were enjoying similar experiences. Her head turned towards the sea for a moment though, to take in the vista as she battled with her hair to regain some sort of style.
It was a view that reminded her why she loved this city, despite the weather. The opposite coast, the other side of Navarre, sat on the horizon, a line of yellow and white light showing where the sea touched the moonless nightsky. Dozens of smaller lights light up the water as boats and ships moved silently through the water. In the far distance the peaks of the Horndrake mountains rose in silent grandeur, breaking the far-off clouds with their white-capped peaks. Beautiful.
The present quickly returned to Kylie's thoughts, however, and she continued on her way to the bar. She had chosen the place, in retrospect, from memory. A nice quiet bar, elegant in simplicity, not too busy, not too quiet. She also got on well with the Bartender, a very, very distant relation indeed. She smiled as she saw it appear out of the mist. Smaller than the high-end nightclubs on either side, it looked quietly elegant nonetheless. Carved stonework and the typical gothic decorations littered its facade, and the stained windows were light up, highlighting the mythological content of theglass itself. Slow duke-box music came through the door.
Kylie smiled as she approached the door. The doorman nodded with a hint of recognition, and she smiled as she walked in, feeling with relief the heat from the fire and the quiet chatter of the regulars. She moved quickly to the bar, the oak floorboards creaking under her feet. The fire roared loudly, glasses tinkled and the people kept on chatting about nothing. She reached the bar and looked around.
With her looking for the barman were a human couple, giggling and kissing like made. Niether were that attractive, but Kylie wished the best for them anyway. Other bar proppers included an ex-Pathfinder helping himself to a bottle of whiskey. He smiled as he saw Kylie, and she returned it. The man was someone she knew, a Pathfinder who took a bullet far too close and decided it was time to retire. A century of service had seen him wealthy and respected, but like all soldiers he was haunted by what he had seen. Next to him was a pair of Goth girls, as tarty and tacky as Goths on the pull are, stirring their blood-coloured drinks with a mild apprehension. This being a Vampire bar, blood drinks were most definitely-served, and they were an acquired taste even for some vampires.
Kylie merely ordered a vodka and coke, passing over a five-mintel note in exchange for the drink. The bartender tonight wasn't her friend, just some tarted-up human girl with a sulk and a slouch, who gave Kylie her change back with a look on her face that suggested intense apathy. Kylie simply took the money and found a cornerbooth in which to sit. She quickly tried to fix her hair as she watched the other people in the room. Aside from the bar propers, there were three Vampires, obviously Pathfinders from their sheer size, laughing with pint glasses in their hands next to the fire. A few sets of students starting the night off were also here, having a quick, cheap drink before hitting the proper clubs. To top it off, a number of middle aged humans, balding and obviously desperate to cling onto the last vestitages of youth, sat confidently at their tables. Kylie smirked and checked her watch.
9.55 she thought, should be here any minute.
OOC: This is a UnAPS RP only. please don't post if you are not involved. Thank you.