[Ariyah – From Fremont to The Elysium – BoL – A]
Ariyah had planned for the Lyft to drop her off after crossing the bridge to Harbour Island, but one look out the window at the endless drizzling and she changed her mind.
At the entrance to the cargo bay, Ariyah got out of the car just as the drizzle turned into actual rain.
Opening up her umbrella, Ariyah let the clear acrylic take the brunt of the precipitation as she hurried through the industrial area towards the cargo ship at the end of the docks.
As she stepped into yet another puddle, Ariyah looked down at her shoes in disgust, her attempt at keeping them dry had failed dismally. This was definitely not the type of place she’s used to for an Elysium. She made a mental note to message Marvin later that evening; he had not given her appropriate warning, at all.
She nodded politely to the woman standing at the top of the gangplank. The woman also sported an umbrella, but other than that seemed not to acknowledge the weather in any other way. Although the whole exchange seemed mundane, it still left Ariyah feeling a little nervous. She hurriedly left her umbrella at the entrance, confirmed that she carried no weapons, and entered the Elysium.
She was so distracted by the experience that it wasn’t until she was fully inside the cargo section that she actually register the decor… scratch that, lack of decor… no, it was more like a Uni student’s curb-side-collection of furniture…
At least they didn’t have apple crates for chairs…
Ariyah mentally shook herself. Focus, this is not the place to space out.
The ruffled Toreador looked around the room, trying to keep a smile on her face. Her sire’s words echoed in her mind, “Don’t ever forget, they’re all predators in this room. But then, so are you. Just smile, you’ll get through this.”
It’s been a long time since Ariyah’s needed the comfort of her Sire’s teachings, but this was a new city and new people. She wasn’t sure where people stood politically, heck, she didn’t even know how old some of these people were. You could approach a 20 something-year-old and find out that they were born in the 1800s and you’re stuck after, “Indoor plumbing was a great idea, wasn’t it?”
Ariyah’s eyes stopped at a drop-dead gorgeous individual sitting at the bar. That person seemed to be the only one dressed in anything that resembled normal Elysium-wear, and it comforted Ariyah somewhat.
That decided it for her. Ariyah made her way over to the bar and gestured at one of the empty chairs, “Is this seat taken?”