[Ariyah – Elysium – BoL – A]
(From haven in #chinatown to #the-elysium – just prior to sending the letter)
Ariyah finished off her letter and sealed it in its envelope.
It had taken her a little while to figure out the wording of the letter, and it had taken all her self-control not to mention anything about the Elysium – she did understand the concept of ”bread and circuses”, but she also felt that a welcoming and comfortable Elysium would attract more Kindred into conducting their businesses there. And wouldn’t that just make it easier for those in charge to keep an eye on the goings-on in their city? At least that was how it was done back in Melbourne. But to each Prince their own, right?
Ariyah got changed from her clay splattered clothes into a long-sleeved, square neckline dress. It was a cold night tonight, and it would be even colder at the docks, so it was the perfect excuse to wear her favourite woollen coat. A pair of cute glasses and her Nappa leather Docs completed her ensemble.
She ordered a Lyft and very shortly was dropped off at Harbour Island. This time she had the driver leave her near the off-ramp, and she made the rest of the way by foot.
As with her last letter, she handed it to the silent woman at the Elysium’s entrance. Ariyah wondered whether the Keeper of the Elysium was the one the Prince referred to in the letter as “able to see all manner of nasty things.” But there was no expression and no comment from the Keeper as she took the missive.
With her errand done, Ariyah hesitated at the entrance of the Elysium.
The night was still young, and if she went home now, she’d just end up stressing in the confines of her apartment.
But she certainly wasn’t in the mood to go to the rave now or any of the clubs for that matter.
Ariyah looked at the metal entryway and sighed; she was here anyway, might as well go in and see if there were other Kindreds who weren’t in the party mood.
[Ariyah enters the Cargo Section]
Inside, there were four other Kindred. Ariyah wondered at the kind of empty rattling noise the Elysium would make if someone were to shake the cargo ship at that moment.
Would you call that a ~death rattle~?
This place is so dead…
A few other terrible puns rose to her mind as she made her way over to the bar. The other Kindreds seemed deep in conversation, and she didn’t want to intrude, but her eyes jumped between the two groups, judging to see which – if any – were open to an additional participant.
When Ariyah got to the bar, the Toreador remembered the type of fare this place provided and hesitated. She really wanted to have a glass of some kind in her hand, it’ll keep her from fidgeting, but they were more likely to hand her a Tupperware container than not – especially with the recent letter she’d sent the Prince – and then where would she be?
Indecision wracks Ariyah, and she stands awkwardly at the bar, trying not to make any eye contact with the bartender.