North

Within the Northern vicinity of the city, the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high-class architecture. The pristine streets are paved with stone and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting - for the right clientele. In the North, every establishment is eager to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - whether it happens to be illegal or merely involves looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allows them the luxuries that the North provides.

What You'll Find Here

Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery

it's never the right time


Posted on December 31, 2018 by emerson navarro
North


She was intrigued by him. She couldn't figure out why he wanted to go out on a date with her. She wasn't as pretty as most, didn't have that perfect body. Sure, she was attractive, but she was hardly as put together as most. Perhaps she was thinking far too much into this. By the way he answered her question, she knew she was. He didn't pick her because of her looks or her personality, he picked her because she was here. It was depressing really, that he simply settled for her. Perhaps it was further proof that she would never find another to love her for who she was like Alex had. She was destined to be alone forever.

But regardless, she did like the idea of having fun for once. She never had the money for fun, so perhaps if he was going to use her company because she was available, she would use him as a free day of fun and entertainment. So she gives him an offer, of what she expects the night to go. He agrees and she nods her head, hesitant to give him a smile.

She can't help but chuckle as he tells her that his first act of not being a dick is to give him name, Marcelo. She decides that now she can offer him a soft smile. "Emmy." He doesn't need to know her real name or her last name, but the nickname she has always gone by. It's all she really has, it's all she can call her own.

She takes a sip of water to wash down the pickle, the grumble in his stomach satisfied for only a moment. But as she hands her money to the waitress, it is immediately handed back to her by Marcelo. She looks at him dumbfounded. "You mean we're starting now?" She had thought maybe tomorrow or the next day or a day that they both would soon forget to hold their ends of the deal. She hadn't imagined that he actually meant that their date would start now.

He has exited the booth and she's still sitting there a little confused, her eyes locked on his extended hand. It takes her a moment to realize what he's doing and she quickly packs up her club sandwich (which she wishes she could eat now) and stuffs the bag into her backpack. Slowly she takes his hand and begins to scoot from the bar seat. At his words, she raises an eyebrow at him. "Hair can be brushed..." She was not as girlie girl as some, but she did like to be put together. Even if she did get helmet hair, she could easily brush her hair out later. But then she looked down at her flip flops. Those were not the best bike shoes. "I'm wearing flip flops...they might get caught in the spokes." And there she goes â€" thinking (and assuming) that his mode of transportation is a bicycle. She had seen some terrible pictures of feet that had skin ripped from the toes from getting caught in the spokes of a bicycle wheel. It was repulsive.



Replies