[Ariyah – University District – Seattle’s Children Hospital – BoL – NA]
[Wake Roll: Success | BoL Roll: Fail | Hunger: 1 —> 2]
Ariyah sat at one of the benches that dotted the hospital’s front entrance, bringing the reusable coffee mug to her lips but not drinking anything. She tried to look like any other visitor or family member taking a much-needed breath of fresh air in the vicinity of the children’s hospital.
She had been sitting there for about half an hour, and very soon she would need to move or risk attracting attention; most people return to the hospital – back to their sick child – after only a quick break.
But if she’s timed it right, she will be out soon.
Ariyah was right in her calculations. A few minutes later, a red-headed woman in her late 30s exited the hospital. She stood at the entrance for a moment, seeming to take in the fresh air.
The woman was wearing a dark green blouse, maroon work slacks and no-nonsense flats, and on her face was the wearied expression of a doctor after a very long shift.
Ariyah felt a familiar fondness well up within her as she watches the woman breathe in the night air.
Ariyah had known, when she chose to come to Seattle, that Piper was there, working as a pediatrician. It was something that her Sire had arranged, all those years ago.
The Toreador knew that it wasn’t a smart idea to be at the hospital. In addition to potentially exposing Piper to Kindred notice, there was also the very slim chance that Piper might see her.
But when Ariyah signed her largest client last night, the interior designer had found that she didn’t have anyone to celebrate her success with.
So, when Ariyah woke up that evening, she found herself with a desire to see her childhood friend.
She just wasn’t prepared for how much her friend had aged. There was a roundness to Piper’s figure now, and a heaviness to her steps that Ariyah had never seen before.
She watched, unmoving at the bench, as the red-haired woman – so familiar and foreign at the same time – made her way to her car and drove off. Ariyah stayed in her seat for another quarter of an hour, her coffee cooling into a black sludge in her cup, before she called a Lyft to take her to her studio. She hadn’t fed yet for the night, and her thirst was making her moody.
((Ariyah makes her way to #fremont))