001 - At the crossroads one more time

[canislaconis]

[When he wakes, he's still only half-aware. Sprawled on the bed, one arm strewn over the empty mattress at his side, his first thought is that Salem had gotten up, for some reason. Blearily, he peeked open an eye to see if she was still in the room. And, for a moment, the only hint that something was off was the vague sense of uneasiness in his stomach. But it nagged enough for him to keep staring, trying to piece together what was off.

Slowly, the wrongness began to take shape. The empty bed was cold. The covers were undisturbed. The furniture, impersonal and empty, didn't make up the familiar sillouhettes that made up their quarters in their cramped apartment. And, as he propped himself up, a low growl starting in his throat, even the smell was wrong.

She wasn't here.

Here wasn't here. Or, at least, it wasn't where it should be.

He doesn't speak to the grimmoire. It doesn't even occur to him that there would be one to speak to. In seconds, he's up on his feet and stalking into the halls, his bare feet practically silent against the floor. With his teeth bared--fangs showing--and no sunglasses to hide his pale, wolfish eyes, there's no question that he is neither human nor remotely happy.

Hello, Accord]

Comments

[heresyandlace]

[like a good boy--or, at least a very careful one--he waits until the other man moves that step back and takes a breath, before he himself relaxes and lowers his hands. Nice and slow, no sudden moves.

And, to his credit, he doesn't seem to mind that they're still pretty close. He even moves his attention to his own shirt, running a hand over to smooth the wrinkles. It's expensive fabric, after all.]

Much better. ...Now, to answer a couple of questions that I'm sure are just eating you up-- yes, this is my tower. And no, I'm not the one who brought you here.