Post by conallforrest on Jul 30, 2009 13:24:37 GMT -5
Conall had awakened and felt an urge to run. It wasn't even near the Full Moon yet, and usually his urges were more in tune with the Moon's phases. Last week had been a total Solar Eclipse at the New Moon, and he had been feeling off kilter since then, so he just chalked his strange urge to that incident also. He was the one to shy away from mainstream conventionality, and being in a restaurant that was sure to be home to people on any given night wasn't his usual habit.
Today his run had not been contented with the usual tracks around the natural lake near his cabin, and the forest trails had not appealed either. So he had let his feet carry him where they willed. He was used to living on instinct, being more wolf than man did that to you. His near solitary life in the woods had caused him and his wolf to fuse almost seemlessly into one man who was stronger than average, faster than any mere man, and had senses that alerted him to all around him. His appearance was also rough. Today, for instance, he had on a pair of khakis that were newer and functional, it was what would be considered almost dressy by his standard. His twill shirt woven in blues and browns was also something better than he typically favored. His boots would never be anything but functional, they were an old well worn pair of Harley boots that had served him through many a fight and run; now they fit his feet like second skin. He was dressed to go somewhere, and he had simply allowed his fingers to choose what went on his body this morning, an instinct as usual for events he would have not thought about, yet it would prove his fortune that he happened through them all the same.
He paced through the city allowing his feet to carry him where they wanted. It was dusk now, and the streets were uncharacteristically unpopulated for a midweek day. He was not one to complain when things went his way. He had run all morning and had wound up here by afternoon. He had not gone so fast as to break a sweat, and he still could catch the scent of cologne he had sprayed on when he'd felt the urge to go somewhere. He smirked now as a familiar building caught his line of sight.
There was something about the Geisha House that was appealing. It was a throw back to Samurai times, the decor was all reds and gold, with soft lighting that was often red also. What he appreciated were the private booths. Rooms really, that had shoji screens on three sides and were like little cushioned respites with a table in the center. He frequented the place for its atmosphere and the food. There were a fair share of wolves that also frequented the place, and he liked to heep tabs on his "brethren" and their whereabouts.
He had been a wolf for a long time, thirteen years now, and he had not survived without much hassle by chance. He was strong and he was smart, he never underestimated his opponent, and he had no close friends because he knew never to implicitely trust anyone. At least that was what he told himself, really he had never met anyone with whom he could imagine spending any real amount of time other than his parents, and they were often gone; so time was not really a consideration in tolerating their company.
His smirk widened as he approached the red lacquered door and pushed through it. He paused only long enough at the hostess booth to wink at the woman standing there in a traditional kimono as he passed her by. He strode confidently to his favorite booth, a red and black room with soft cushioned booths and a black laquer wooden table in the middle. He knew it was unoccupied when he entered the restaurant, he could smell where every person in the room was. There was at least one other wolf somewhere nearby too.
He strode into the private booth and took the seat at the head of the table. He knew the hostess had followed him through the restaurant, but his apparent familiarity and ease made her not risk speaking up about his apparent to her lack of respect for the conventionality of the rules of proper ettiquette. He lounged comfortably and looked at the hostess, his smirk had transformed into a genial enough smile. Could I trouble you for a waitress please, I won't require a menu?
He saw her face change from chagrin to a knwing and calculated kindly smile as she recognize him from a previous visit and sent for one of the best waitresses. He was known to be generous if the service was deserving. Today he was debating between a few of his favorites, his run had left him hungry as he had left without even taking Breakfast. He had decided before the woman even graced his table with her presence, she was stereotypically short and her face was painted in the white of the Geisha, her kimono was a brilliant jade and set off her pale skin and almond shaped brown eyes. Her black hair was shiny and coiled into an elaborate twist held in place with jade combs bejewelled with ribbons and emeralds, the effect was pleasant.
Would you please bring me a bottle of Sake, The Baby Eggplant, Green Lawn Sushi Rolls, and Yaki Onigiri? His smile for her was genuiniely pleasant. The effect of his surroundings was soothing and the hints of jasmine, lavender, sandalwood, and incense were melded together to create a pleasant aroma mingling with the food. The lowered lighting gave off a sense of closeness and conspiracy. He lay his head back on the cushioned bench to wait for the Sake, he wasn't kown to drink, but tonight he felt it was an occasion. The foreboding in the air was thick and his instincts were charged. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his grin spread across his face in anticipation of whatever had called him here tonight.
As he waited his eyes followed the three figures who were floating across the restaurant to take their place on the wooden stage atthe center of the room. His booth was well situated for the show that was part of this restaurant's appeal. He wasn't exceptionally fond of burlesque shows and the like, but the sensual dance of the Geisha was something to see; a dnace shrouded in beauty and mystery hearkening back to ancient times when Emperors ruled the world and Lords kept these women to entertain and protect their houses. He liked that they remained clothed in traditional kimono and yet moved with a sense of form and grace that clearly told their tale of seduction and even assassination. Let the weaker fools have their pornography, he preferred his women to leave his imagination to roam. So he enjoyed the show as his Sake arrived, only pausing to peruse the room as the feel of others noticing him entered his conscious mind.
Today his run had not been contented with the usual tracks around the natural lake near his cabin, and the forest trails had not appealed either. So he had let his feet carry him where they willed. He was used to living on instinct, being more wolf than man did that to you. His near solitary life in the woods had caused him and his wolf to fuse almost seemlessly into one man who was stronger than average, faster than any mere man, and had senses that alerted him to all around him. His appearance was also rough. Today, for instance, he had on a pair of khakis that were newer and functional, it was what would be considered almost dressy by his standard. His twill shirt woven in blues and browns was also something better than he typically favored. His boots would never be anything but functional, they were an old well worn pair of Harley boots that had served him through many a fight and run; now they fit his feet like second skin. He was dressed to go somewhere, and he had simply allowed his fingers to choose what went on his body this morning, an instinct as usual for events he would have not thought about, yet it would prove his fortune that he happened through them all the same.
He paced through the city allowing his feet to carry him where they wanted. It was dusk now, and the streets were uncharacteristically unpopulated for a midweek day. He was not one to complain when things went his way. He had run all morning and had wound up here by afternoon. He had not gone so fast as to break a sweat, and he still could catch the scent of cologne he had sprayed on when he'd felt the urge to go somewhere. He smirked now as a familiar building caught his line of sight.
There was something about the Geisha House that was appealing. It was a throw back to Samurai times, the decor was all reds and gold, with soft lighting that was often red also. What he appreciated were the private booths. Rooms really, that had shoji screens on three sides and were like little cushioned respites with a table in the center. He frequented the place for its atmosphere and the food. There were a fair share of wolves that also frequented the place, and he liked to heep tabs on his "brethren" and their whereabouts.
He had been a wolf for a long time, thirteen years now, and he had not survived without much hassle by chance. He was strong and he was smart, he never underestimated his opponent, and he had no close friends because he knew never to implicitely trust anyone. At least that was what he told himself, really he had never met anyone with whom he could imagine spending any real amount of time other than his parents, and they were often gone; so time was not really a consideration in tolerating their company.
His smirk widened as he approached the red lacquered door and pushed through it. He paused only long enough at the hostess booth to wink at the woman standing there in a traditional kimono as he passed her by. He strode confidently to his favorite booth, a red and black room with soft cushioned booths and a black laquer wooden table in the middle. He knew it was unoccupied when he entered the restaurant, he could smell where every person in the room was. There was at least one other wolf somewhere nearby too.
He strode into the private booth and took the seat at the head of the table. He knew the hostess had followed him through the restaurant, but his apparent familiarity and ease made her not risk speaking up about his apparent to her lack of respect for the conventionality of the rules of proper ettiquette. He lounged comfortably and looked at the hostess, his smirk had transformed into a genial enough smile. Could I trouble you for a waitress please, I won't require a menu?
He saw her face change from chagrin to a knwing and calculated kindly smile as she recognize him from a previous visit and sent for one of the best waitresses. He was known to be generous if the service was deserving. Today he was debating between a few of his favorites, his run had left him hungry as he had left without even taking Breakfast. He had decided before the woman even graced his table with her presence, she was stereotypically short and her face was painted in the white of the Geisha, her kimono was a brilliant jade and set off her pale skin and almond shaped brown eyes. Her black hair was shiny and coiled into an elaborate twist held in place with jade combs bejewelled with ribbons and emeralds, the effect was pleasant.
Would you please bring me a bottle of Sake, The Baby Eggplant, Green Lawn Sushi Rolls, and Yaki Onigiri? His smile for her was genuiniely pleasant. The effect of his surroundings was soothing and the hints of jasmine, lavender, sandalwood, and incense were melded together to create a pleasant aroma mingling with the food. The lowered lighting gave off a sense of closeness and conspiracy. He lay his head back on the cushioned bench to wait for the Sake, he wasn't kown to drink, but tonight he felt it was an occasion. The foreboding in the air was thick and his instincts were charged. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his grin spread across his face in anticipation of whatever had called him here tonight.
As he waited his eyes followed the three figures who were floating across the restaurant to take their place on the wooden stage atthe center of the room. His booth was well situated for the show that was part of this restaurant's appeal. He wasn't exceptionally fond of burlesque shows and the like, but the sensual dance of the Geisha was something to see; a dnace shrouded in beauty and mystery hearkening back to ancient times when Emperors ruled the world and Lords kept these women to entertain and protect their houses. He liked that they remained clothed in traditional kimono and yet moved with a sense of form and grace that clearly told their tale of seduction and even assassination. Let the weaker fools have their pornography, he preferred his women to leave his imagination to roam. So he enjoyed the show as his Sake arrived, only pausing to peruse the room as the feel of others noticing him entered his conscious mind.
