ID Number: OC23-44698
Resident Psychic Vampire RISK LEVEL: 2
Latest Status: Unavailable
Posts: 91
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Post by LOUIS ISAIAH DAWSON on Nov 24, 2019 11:59:30 GMT 1
A double door down an alley way opened up, spilling the loud music into the night and illuminating the darkness with strobing lights and the faint sound of a scuffle. A scuffle that resulted in the thin form of a man being thrown out of the door and against the opposite wall with a grunt of pain that was quickly followed by laughter. He spoke and moments later had a pair of shoes tossed at him and then those doors slammed shut, leaving the figure alone in the dark and the cool air of the night.
Louis snickered to himself from where he'd landed and got himself to his feet with surprising ease for somebody you'd expect to be nigh on comatose after being kicked from a club. Not him though, he hadn't drank more than two pints all night and so he was able to slip his shoes on with ease after he was stood and the man brushed himself down half heartedly as he took note of where he was. And what had just happened. Apparently there was a rule over not getting half naked with people in the cloak room, something he was now fully aware of but still had absolutely no regrets. Humans were such funny creatures, a little charm, a little push of energy from the vampiric side that swirled within him and he found himself with easy prey here, there and everywhere. It was a shame he hadn't got a little more from his night out, but he was practically glowing from within after the rush he had achieved so he was content enough for now. He wasn't even that annoyed that he'd been tossed out on his ass.
But what now?
His face lit up a little as he checked his mobile, the screen illuminating his face, the two missed calls from Manson were swiped away from his notification bar, ignored because he couldn't be bothered to call in and clarify that he was safe and not sucking anybody's soul down. It'll be fine. He's been notoriously good. Kind of. He skims beneath the radar anyway, as long as he mostly does as he's told.
Louis had slipped his phone back into his back jeans pocket and was buttoning up his shirt as he wandered back towards the high street, from there he wasn't sure what he was going to do, either walk his way back to Manson or find someplace else to hole up for a few hours.. The walk back would be long. And lonely. And quiet. He doesn't think he's up for that, so he'd be looking for company of some variety without a doubt.
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