death incarnate & night triumphant

The rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, lingering on the tall buildings in the downtown district. The slight breeze lazily swept through the towering buildings, ruffling Andras's midnight hair, his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit as he strolls along the sidewalk. The bustling crowd made it easy for his thoughts to roam freely, not staying on any one thing in particular as he cut a path to the towering doors into the open air shopping center. The City Creek Center didn't hold much interest for the Fae Lord but he had been cooped up in Somnia for far too long. As his dark form moves under the sky lights of the open air center, he's greeted with a delightful scent of something different. It's distracting enough to pull him from his wandering thoughts as he changes direction. He had heard rumors of a new bistro opening in the mall, mostly by the gossiping faeries in his court, at least the ones who frequented the city. Perhaps that's what led him all the way to the city center. Andras had been avoiding this area ever since Matteo's prediction of him demolishing half of it, that had been... two years ago and it had taken the male all this time to convince himself he wasn't going to destroy the city center.

The memory of the brawl that destroyed his townhouse sent a slight simper tugging at his sensuous mouth. It was, perhaps, not one of his finer moments in his long lived life and yet, he had managed to find a brother after that encounter. And a new remodel to the townhouse. Giving a small shake of his head at the memory, he pulls a hand out of his pocket as he strolls toward the wafting scents of... French food? He wasn't entirely sure as his scent picked at the different intertwining flavors. Utterly enthralled by the flavors, he finally finds what he's looking for. It was a French Bistro, the small shop packed full to the brim with lounging customers. A small fountain was placed outside, the gurgling waters lazily dumping over the edges and into the bowls beneath.

Eyeing the bistro for a moment longer, he finally pulls his other hand out of his pocket and strolls towards the hostess manning a booth just outside the front doors. The young woman glances up at him as he approaches, flashing him an award winning smile as she asks how many for the evening. "Just one," his rumbling voice is accompanied by an index finger being held out. She hardly misses a beat as she snags a menu and gestures for Andras to follow her inside, "Actually, I'd prefer to sit outside if that's alright," he says before she disappears inside, her brows raise, clearly the human woman had never experienced a real form of winter before, 56 degrees felt quite balmy to Andras, especially coming from Somnia where the snowdrifts were constantly piling up.

She hesitates for only a moment before she turns on a heel and gestures for him to follow her to a small nook outside, just around the corner and away from the general bustle of the crowd. Nodding his gratitude, he pulls out the wooden chair before unbuttoning his suit jacket and slipping it down his arms. Slinging it lazily across the back of the chair, he sits down in a rather ungraceful movement. He glances up to watch the hostess lighting one of the propane heaters and before he can stop her, she successfully lights it. He debates on asking her to turn it off and yet, the Fae male decides against it, she clearly was only trying to make him comfortable. Unbuttoning his sleeves at the wrists, he shoves the material back to expose his muscular forearms, the tanned skin still hanging on, despite the cooler months the city was currently wrapped in.

The hostess returns with water and a pitcher for the table before disappearing back into the building to retrieve his waiter. Opening up the menu, he browses through it as he is delightedly surprised by the contents of the menu. It was surprisingly traditional, food he hadn't had since he had visited France. Once the waiter arrives, Andras orders a bottle of red wine before continuing to scour through the contents of the menu. It isn't long before a glass is poured and is placed in front of him and the Faerie lord is placing an order. Once it's taken care of, he grasps the glass and leans back in his chair, taking a drink of the delightful drink as his hazel eyes lazily watch the moving crowd of people.

Andras Steinhello darling