Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Printable Version

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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 11-28-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/bob2/female/FotoFlexer_Photo_2.jpg" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]
Seri would have pouted that she lost the feeling of his hand playing in her hair. Would have. However, the fingers at her bum was perhaps much the same feeling. not quite, since she LOVED her hair being played with. But closer than just being held. His arms were strong and solid, yet they never hurt when he held her. Not that he did often, but he had the night before. And right now.

"N-no, that's not quite what I was saying...." was that all he thought of when last night came to his mind? That she was just with him right now for his body? Perhaps it seemed that way, since it all happened rather quickly. But he was a being with feelings, and they didn't need to be just that type of a friend.

Seri sat up a little, moving her hands one atop the other over his chest and rested her chin on her hands as she looked up at him. Silvered, ice blue eyes pierced into the duo-tones of his oculars. Warm and soft, yet tired and completely comfortable atop him. In the nude. "Not that I...don't mind the idea of laying with you again, Saint...." she gave a little grin, her tongue sticking out from between her teeth with a soft giggle, "But I meant more that-....i've gained a comrade. A-...bonny mate. Amigo. Uh-....Senpai?" her mind wondered, thinking of more words to express their new strange friendship.

Hopefully he understood what she was trying to say.

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 11-29-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar-1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] <font color="9ce619]Saydri leaned his hip against one of the benches, preoccupied by thoughts of food though he was uncertain how the others managed to sleep so late without becoming hungry, it was already past midday. The familiar growl of his stomach interrupted his thoughts and reminded him that thinking was not getting them any closer to eating by standing there and staring into space, so after draining the glass of juice he moved over to the fridge.

 Silver eyes pored over the contents within as he moved things here and there with one hand, while being careful not to send anything flying. His expression serious as he thought through his options - comparing what was available to what he could effectively make without getting into trouble. His track record with the kitchen thus far seemed to be 50-50, and to be honest he'd rather stay on the side of not destroying the kitchen if possible.

 Finally deciding on something that should be easy he started collecting the ingredients out of the fridge before placing them on the bench near the stove. Moving around he riffled through the cupboards for a bowl, whisk and eventually a frying pan. Cracking half a dozen eggs into the bowl he added salt, pepper and some milk and water before whisking it together - only needing to fish out a couple of fragments of shell before he put the frying pan onto the stove after turning on the element. Adding oil to the pan before cutting up ham and tomato, before adding that and some frozen peas to the egg mix.

 Once the pan was hot he poured the contents of the bowl into the frying pan causing a loud sizzling to be heard and he walked off to riffle around for a spatula before returning. He then dumped a few handfuls of cheese over the top of it.
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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 11-30-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/Saint01.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Saint couldn’t hope to hear her thoughts, unlike Ruka’s if he really wanted to hear Ruka’s. He couldn’t know she had those worried little feelings inside about him not wanting to form a friendship with her, or, that he only had in mind what that soft and pert little mouth of hers could give him. It really wasn’t obvious by her body language either; all of that said playful imp.

But, then the words she spoke did make a few things clear. Still, the grin only broadened despite her verbal misgiving and uncertainty. Hell, just hearing her call him sempai made his mental erection stand pretty tall. It wasn’t Korean, but hearing anyone call him something like that while laying naked out on top of him after a night like they had ….yeah, it did… things.

The tongue added something as well.

He squeezed the cheeks in his hands, nails digging only briefly. “Someone to cuddle with…?” he added, still grinning even as it moved to be more of a smirk. She wanted a friend, he caught on easily enough. Someone she could drop the guard a bit with; someone to smile with. “If you want me for a friend, I’m game, Kitten. You sure though? I hear the return policy on me is pretty complicated.”

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - danixiewrites - 11-30-2014

<img style="Lyta Fiera" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/lyta_zpsk848tfg6.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]At least the vacant bar, for that's what the greater part of the level she was on seemed to be exclusively used for, provided ample opportunity for her to avoid asking someone for a place to stay.

Lyta was trying not to feel sorry for herself. Really, she was. Her unpainted fingernails tapped on the smooth surface as she huddled against the bar, her shoulders hunched and lacking any hint of a past that excelled in stage presence. She felt like a beggar. Evicted, fallen from a formerly quite comfortable lifestyle, out of the spotlight for good, weak, a mere shadow of her former self. And half again, in fact, since her beast refused to rise from its huddled mass within her chest. It was as if the time she'd been hospitalized had been purgatory, an endless waiting place between two lives, and this new turn on the karmic wheel had placed her in the empty shoes of someone who'd found themselves suddenly without purpose.

If only she could figure out what she'd done so wrong in her former life, to be set down like this here and now. She was a nice person. She'd risen through the ranks on talent, not diva attitude, always over-tipped, used Sir and Ma'am like a good girl grown into a woman.

If only she could figure out what she'd do now. Nice didn't provide income. It wasn't only her prospects that made a lone sniffle escape into the empty space, not only the cost of room and board, but the thought of the avalanche of medical bills to come, the useless wishing that she had honed any other singular skill other than the Opera. How was she to make a living now?

Her stomach growled, and she acknowledged the faint scent of eggs, the way her ears perked at the sound of movement beyond the doors that the bar ostensibly blocked off. Hospital fare had made life more miserable, not less, once she could keep it down. She'd last eaten before the morning shift change, finally having checked herself out and gotten a headstart on finding a place to stay. So it wasn't like she was yet starving. It wasn't so great a need as to warrant the effort of an introduction. Moreso, Lyta had no place in a kitchen, especially one she presumed was only for staff. She could cook basic things. Preferred restaurants and ordering in, because they tasted better than anything she could've put on a plate herself. Barring, perhaps, the hospital food she'd consumed with great regret.

Maybe karma had decided she needed a lesson in cuisine appreciation.

She rolled her shoulders at the thought, considered the impressive inner doors with eyes of winsome brown. Something about clinging to a still-damp umbrella made her long to sneak inside and see if she could at least hunker down beside a warm stove. Cozy things had always improved her outlook on bad days before. Another thing was certain, if she had to admit it, lifting her gaze to the door again as other scents joined the medley, too faint to be recognizable. If she wasted too much time here, she'd run out of daylight to go searching for that unclaimed alley-side property. Reluctant to be humiliated once more, she slid from her stool. Courage. I am a vixen, damn it! A strong, confident... Her hand touched the crease between the doors and she deflated as if all of her remaining energy had been spent merely walking this far. There hadn't been anyone else about--surely they would forgive the trespass. And if they didn't, well. She'd already prepared herself for rejection this time. Her shoulders lifted a mere fraction as she pushed inside.

The new room shut out most of the bar's overwhelming, near-aphrodisiac effect her fox had been struggling to ignore, allowing Lyta to breathe more easily. Lost in self-pity, she hadn't even noticed its weight. Now though, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. I am not starving, she reminded herself. But it wasn't hospital food, and the scent plyed her nose with that knowledge like a beckoning lover. Brown eyes roved the upscale polish of the kitchen, stopping as she caught sight of the cook, an attractive man with a wealth of red hair she envied, whose warm tones mingled with those of the dish he prepared.

"Excuse me, sir?" She winced, slouching against the corner forged by a counter and the wall. Her voice was a husky, shattered thing. Once she'd awakened from surgery, Lyta had become inclined to speak as little as possible. Then, too, her feeling of absolute intrusion in a space she didn't belong was amplified by circumstance. "I don't mean to intrude; if you could please point me in the direction of someone with whom I might speak regarding a room..."

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 11-30-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/bob2/female/FotoFlexer_Photo_2.jpg" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]
He was laughing at her again.

The grin he always held was a little softer than his usual smirk when around alot of people, but there it was. Poking at her words and her obvious uncertainty. Well, it was perhaps strange to ask someone to be their friend. And sex buddy. But without asking how did one get to know these things? She had no mental link with the man beneath her and she never really wanted one.

She already shared the space in her mind with something else. Which still had not yet woken up. It was getting very strange to have a little bit of free thought for so long.

But back to the man's grin. And his hands squeezing her bottom. Her eyes swirled from more blue into a deeper silver for just a moment at the feeing of him playing with her body again. She could not help the soft gasp the squeeze pushed from her lips. But it was his words that brought a silly grin to her lips. A little lopsided but it reached her eyes to make them shine a little brighter.

<font color="#b7cbdf]"Yes....someone to cuddle with. Drink with. And to do-....this." [/font]<font color="#fbfcfd]S[/font]eri moved her knees to around his hip, sitting up and straddling him for just a moment while her hands grasped the blankets and pulled them up over the two of them again, containing their warmth. She leaned over him again, sitting further up on his body to place her lips to his cheek and down to his ear to nuzzle into his neck. One hand slipped up into his hair and along his skull, fingers massaging and nails lightly scratching as she settled against him again, blankets up around her shoulders.

<font color="#b7cbdf]"I'd not try to place a return on you, Saint. Who else would speak of poetry? Or explain why-....my jokes have laid eggs..."[/font] looking up past her bangs and her dark lashed at him, she blinked a few times and sighed, <font color="#b7cbdf]"I am not very good with jokes, am I..."[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 12-01-2014

[/img]"http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar-1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar] <font color="9ce619] Saydri walked away from the stove top in order to put away the various ingredients that he'd withdrawn in order to cook himself the eggs. He wasn't entirely sure what it was he'd made...perhaps it was categorized as an omelet or something of the like, well the name wasn't really important. Pausing in closing the door of the fridge his gaze fell on a container filled with a creamy sauce with large chunks of chicken, his thoughts drifted back to a few nights prior. It was what Seri had made before she'd fallen asleep on her feet.

 It really did need to be eaten soon or the chicken would go off, and he didn't want Seri's cooking to go to waste. In addition it really had smelled really good when she'd been making it. Of course, it would probably still be fine for him to eat in a few days time - he'd noticed over the years that he had a far higher tolerance for food that seemed to make others sick.

 His head turned automatically, silvery gray eyes sought out the source of the sound even as he stood there with the fridge door open - unknowingly letting out all the cold air. Saydri's gaze was inquisitive and perhaps a little sharp as he honed in on the details of the swinging door and the young woman who had stepped inside. Taking in the way that she slouched and folded into herself, as if trying to be as small as possible gave the impression of someone defensive - as if she was half expecting rejection. Though rejection in what way he wasn't certain.

 There was also an almost melancholy air about her, perhaps she was another lost soul seeking a place to stay. This place did seem to draw them in, it was a safe haven...a place to belong. Silver eyes dropped then towards the refrigerator door as if just realising it was still open and he allowed it to click shut.

 "It is not an intrusion, everyone is asleep it seems," he stated softly though to most it would seem his expression was lacking emotion but there was a softness in the grey eyes as he glanced back at her. Yet it was quite easy for him to pick up on her unease, she seemed quite skittish so perhaps he was not the best person to talk to her. People tended to find his presence uncomfortable and intimidating, but it was more than that. Humans it seemed were programmed to hone onto anything different, their unease was due to sensing that he wasn't the same as them. But then...he wasn't entirely certain that she was human either.

 He sighed softly before shaking his head slightly, causing the damp auburn strands to shift around his head, as if to push away those thoughts. He would just be careful...and if necessary he could rouse Ruka. He probably should anyway since she was talking about a room. Saydri hesitated slightly, gazing at the empty space above her head - Ruka had told him that it was fine to provide keys as long as he got their information. "Well, let me think about the room since the boss is asleep, I may be able to get you a room. But first would you like some food?"
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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 12-01-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/banner3_1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] Thunder rumbled in the distance, it appeared to be heading away from them as he paused and gazed upwards, protecting his eyes with one hand. He couldn't say he'd be disappointed to see the rain let up for a while and for a few moments he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of blue sky. However, now wasn't the time to stand about in the rain. Shaking his head he continued onwards, not bothering to avoid the puddles as the water merely splashed against his knee high buckled boots and the black leather coat that reached past his knees - protecting his clothing for the most part. His collar was turned up though droplets of water beaded in the long ebony strands.

 Standing a short distance away Likèreal noticed someone familiar leave the cathedral and he smiled, blowing another ring of smoke into the air above his head before watching it dissolve and break apart. He wasn’t in a rush when he wasn’t worried about getting caught in an unexpected downpour, but it seemed they’d seen the last of the rain for now at least. Perhaps the Cathedral would get busier with the improving weather, but then the lack of occupants didn’t bother him. There were specific people that he was interested in seeing.

 He undid the clasps on the front of his black coat, letting it fall free to reveal black tight-fitting pants with a multitude of buckles and detailing that clung to his legs. A deep burgundy shirt was unbuttoned over a black sleeveless t-shirt. A hand moved to the inner pocket, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes and he slid one between his lips before lighting it as golden eyes surveyed his surroundings.

 In the time it took him to finish his cigarette Ruka had already returned back inside. Grinding the butt against the sidewalk before looking around, seeing a trash can he approached and dropped it inside before brushing his hands off against his pants. A mild smile on his lips as he remembered the way a certain someone used to chastise him about his smoking habits. Angels shouldn’t smoke huh…even if he wasn’t a proper angel anymore he’d always had to hide his cigarettes from Lotus or they’d end up in the trash or an open fire.

 Likèreal slipped his hands into the pockets of the coat and followed, black leather trench coat flowing behind him as he approached the door and pushed it open. Stepping inside he looked around, it really was far more empty as he’d thought it’d be, but then it was only the early afternoon.
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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 12-01-2014

<img style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar" src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/RukaAlomini.png]Unlike the other residents of the Cathedral, its owner was not asleep. Nor was she abed. That had long since been made back to the manner that suited her most. She had also long since dressed, put on her shoes, and rubbed the last bit of Sandman from her eyes. A shower had been taken in the solace of her bathroom, and, coffee had been procured much earlier than most others.

First to rise and last to bed--as usual.

Cool blue orbs slid over the paperwork at her desk while a pen was held precariously between digits. Knuckles pressed into her cheek and provided an adequate prop to rest her head. After a moment's pass she pulled that hand back and ran slender fingers through her short silver-white strands before signing another check and putting it along with the bill into an envelope.

Electricity, phone, water, cable, internet, and garbage were all accounted for. And, the numbers ran well enough that she imagined that in a years time or less they'd actually start turning over a profit. It wouldn't bother her if they barely ever did; she never did this kind of work for anything other than her own desire. Still, it would be nice to actually do more than break even in at least once place she stayed in.

With a soft hum she rubberbanded the bills together and dropped them on the desk. Having finished that and the week's orders made her morning productive even if slightly boring. It would be far more prolific to entice a guest into her bed, or... perhaps another neighbor.

Pale lips hushed in a natural pink curved into a smile. At the same time those kohl lashes lowered. Another moment of quiet thought passed on before she simply stood up and snatched up the bills.

Her suit pants were smoothed out with a brush of a palm; black lace trimmings on the collar and cuffs to match jostled as she did so. Ivory-porcelain skin seemed a stark comparison to the ebony she fitted herself in like a tailored glove, at least aside from the button down. Inky dots were done up the middle, but not entirely. And, her chest was made slightly visible in a candid way, revealing the bare hush of pink scaring on a flat plane.

Metrosexual male perhaps, but never mistaken for womanly. She didn't look like woman enough to be considered one; especially at a height of six foot and no chest to speak of. From time to those with a keener nose or other abilities could ferret it out. And though it had never bothered her to be called a she or a her, Ruka very much considered herself a man.

A soft yawn escaped her lips as she shut the door to her room, though not much else as she traveled down the hall. The cathedral was quiet this morning; those abed were not moving about too seriously from what she could sense. It certainly was a contrast from the nights...

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 12-02-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/Saint01.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]He watched her in silence for a brief moment, wondering just what was going on in that head of hers. The beastie wasn't growling, or hem hawing, so, it couldn't be bad. He hadn't put his foot in his mouth again; which, was probably a good thing. His own Beast was rumbling with a few sounds, snoozing the morning away like she'd gotten the best lay of her life, or, like she'd eaten well enough for a season and then some. He wouldn't complain.

His brows rose briefly and she moved and spoke, wondering what she was up to atop his achy and sated body. Slowly, eyes flickered to a close as she kissed and caressed her way along his neck, face, and cheek. He allowed a low rumble of a purr to escape him, to hum from the cavern of his chest and beyond the passage of his lips. The sound ended in a sigh and his body relaxed further.

Jokes? Bad?

"I'll take more of that any day," he didn't mind saying with a lopsided smile. He opened one eye at her, the right one filled with the bright green. Looking bemused and silly in his own way, he said, "Can't be good at everything," he told her, implying she was good at enough things--like setting his blood on fire and working his body sideways to fuck-yes. "But, you're good at this." His arms moved again, pulling her closer for a hug and a kiss on her nose as he shut his eyes once more.

"You don't suck at cuddles as far as I can tell."

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 12-02-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar3.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] <font color="cd43f8] It seemed that the stormy weather was retreating much to his satisfaction. Even now the rain that slid down the panes of glass was lessening and soon enough it would stop completely. His gaze turning towards one of the large windows, it seemed that it wouldn't be long before the clouds dispersed and left behind blue sky and sunshine in its wake. Perhaps that would draw the other occupants from their bedrooms, not that he particularly minded either way but company might be enjoyable.

 Still, the eclectic room that surrounded him intrigued him well enough on its own. It was filled with lavish trappings but it still avoided looking cluttered or garish, a tribute to the decorator's skills. Yet everywhere he looked he noticed another small detail or a hidden gem tucked away like within the display cases made of rich wood and glass, they housed what he assumed were either reproductions or antiques restored to beautiful condition. Such as a violin with intricate carving and inset with what looked like gold, as well as an older flute and other foreign instruments. There were even some old books and papers which looked like they may have been old sheet music, perhaps used by well known musicians.

 Large wooden chests, stained a rich mahogany and intricately carved sat against the walls or tucked within the seating arrangements seemingly at random. On closer inspection, within these chests were many smaller instruments within their protective cases - Violins and Violas, Oboes, Bassoons, Piccolo, Flutes, Trumpet and Clarinet. There was even a Lute, hand held drums, bells, cymbals, a Xylophone and a lyre, as well as smaller foreign stringed instruments tucked away safely with other things that may be needed by an avid musician - replacement strings, guitar picks and the like.

 Scattered amongst the furniture on secure stands or within their cases were the larger instruments. To the far right of the room on bare wood was a Grand Piano, the black lacquer glinting in the soft light from the lamps and there were harps of different sizes, including one of orchestra size as well as Cellos, Basses, Tubas, Trombones and Guitars. As well as electric versions of many of the instruments with the amps and cords with them, as well as a bookshelf filled with music books for various instruments.

 This collection very much rivaled his own, and he found that almost as fascinating as the room and its content. He was partial to string instruments himself, but that was purely from an enjoyment stand point, he enjoyed playing them the most.

 Still he continued to walk amongst the instruments, fingers sliding lovingly along the cases and the instruments themselves when he opened the cases much as one would an old lover before he made his way over to the Grand Piano. Lifting the lid and sliding the lid prop in place before walking around it, fingers sliding across the deep blue velvet of the bench before he moved around to sit down. Lifting the fall to reveal the keys he put his hands in place, testing a few notes to check whether it was tuned before he began to play Beethoven's Bagatella In La Minore, also known as Für Elise
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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 12-02-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/bob2/female/FotoFlexer_Photo_2.jpg" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]
Her cuddles were good? Seri wasn't sure how that could be a hard thing to master. But given the feeling she got when snuggled with Saint was different aside from the way she nuzzled with Saydri and curled up with Ruka. Each person was different and nice in their own way. Warm in their own was. Soft in very different ways.

But Seri didn't consider herself a very skilled-....thing. Being. So knowing one thing she did was nice made her very happy.

<font color="#90abc7]"I think you are very good in bed too, Oppa~...."[/font] her voice was a whisper along his skin as she nuzzled against him more. Shoulders and arms pulling closer against her body so one hand lay on his chest and the other tracking the muscles of his side. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but liked the way she could lay atop him like this too much to want to move again.

He was just-....so cute right now!!

Unable to help herself, she wiggled a bit in his arms, body instantly rejecting the idea of movement but was hushed by her need to express with actions what words she forgot to speak. Placing quick kisses to his cheek all the while she felt herself purr deep in her throat. It was not an animal sound she made. More like some creature that was enjoying the taste of something sweet. And Saint was very sweet with her right now.

After a moment, she stopped raining the caress of lips along his face, neck and shoulder to settle down again against him. The hand on his chest played invisible piano keys while a song played in her head with a limp body. Muscles twitched a little, upset at her movements but that didn't matter. She was sated for perhaps a very long time.

Until her stomach decided to growl very loudly.

Hands froze. Eyes grew like the waxing and waning of the moon and cheeks grew almost as red as Setrins hair. <font color="#90abc7]"I've-.....forgotten...Uh-...sex makes me hunger again much sooner than-....usual...." [/font]by the end of her embarrassed words, her voice was muffled by his neck. Seri had turned her face into him, hiding the fact she was trying to avoid his gaze and the look of shock on her face.

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - danixiewrites - 12-03-2014

<img style="Lyta Fiera" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/lyta_zpsk848tfg6.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]She wasn't immediately kicked out. This was good, and would have made her stand taller in her pumps if she hadn't found herself at the other end of silvery eyes that tried to read her like a book. Lyta was not a book. Or, if she was, she was a soggy remaindered paperback mutilated and abandoned on the sidewalk in front of a used bookstore somewhere, ignored, walked over and around, kicked along. Her chin jerked sharply toward the floor, a brown gaze tracing stubborn drops that still rolled over the black vinyl of her umbrella. It would be unhelpful to cry.

Maybe she could leave quietly. If he hadn't acknowledged her presence, she would have. Exit, stage right--and then with lovely, sweeping steps, she'd have taken the number from the top.

He was so quiet for that long moment after his gaze pierced her, that in Lyta's present mood she was altogether certain the moment was used in searching for a way to let her down gently. Her chin came back up again only when he mentioned sleeping. "I am glad, then, that I didn't bother anyone," she said as quietly as she could without her words being reduced to nothing but indistinguishable gravel. "Asleep...is it not lunchtime?"

A silly question, she considered, once one put together the pieces. The outer room was dedicated to a bar, and perhaps revelers had been up late. Perhaps the otherness she'd sensed outside included those who simply didn't rise in daylight hours. Curiosity bristled the fur of the creature within her, but Lyta couldn't bring herself to ask outright. She tried on a smile, nodded to the food he prepared. "Perhaps you are the only one who eats such a meal, then."

It was a comment she might have made once, to set a stranger at ease, but that might not have had the same effect, given the rasp in which it was spoken. Against her thighs, a small navy blue clutch and the worn umbrella twisted and creased under her fingers while she waited for his answer about the room; if she hadn't had the props she'd likely be wringing her hands together instead. On repeat in her mind was a calming recitation of Plan F's and Plan G's and Plan H's he couldn't hear, in time with the twisting:

He'll say no. It won't matter. It can't matter. What if he only lets me stay long enough to get warm? Then I get warm, and go look again. I can do this. I must do this. Maybe he'll know of somewhere else I can try...

His response, buried somewhat by this thought process, came to her ears like a foreign language. "May?" She was certain that had been one of his words and latched onto it while the rest of his answer rattled around in her brain, lost in translation. A hope! A seed of something more promising than sleeping under an open, rainy sky! "You...this place might have room? One I might rent? For," and immediately dug into her clutch, awkwardly holding the umbrella in the crook of an elbow. She held an envelope open toward him, showed the bills inside. "I have...This...I...oh."

Around that point, the rest of his words clicked into place. Her eyes widened and she quickly stuffed things back where they belonged, shedding droplets of water from her erstwhile shield onto the floor. "I'm so, so sorry. Other places today...didn't have space."

She left it at that, as short as she dared to explain her sudden burst of excited activity, without coming across at rude. No need to tell him she'd been hopelessly unable to afford those others. Not when she still wasn't sure if she'd be able to afford this.

Her head tilted to one side as she inhaled, catching the scent of soap along with with a heightening aroma of vegetables and meat and cheese. Lyta's stomach protested again and she shrank back against the wall even as she pressed her clutch against the blue and white flowers of her dress. With effort, she made herself ask, "How much would a very small plate be?"

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 12-03-2014

[/img]"http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/RukaAlomini.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]An airy whistle followed in her wake, exiting the passage of her pursed lips as she moved down the hall and towards the door that would lead her to main room. Bills were tucked under her arm as one hand moved into her jacket to dig about. A moment later had her holding a silver case in one hand and Zippo of a matching state in the other. At the same time she pressed her shoulder in the door at the end of the hall and pushed--exiting.

So much was going on, but not enough to compare it to busy little ants. Saint and Seri were enjoying one another's company, and warmth, between the sheets it seemed; she had a new visitor who'd let himself into music room to investigate; and, Saydri was entertaining someone who'd just come out from the recent weather.

Really, there was nothing like waking up to a thunderstorm that made you want to bundle up with someone and drink a warm brew. The cathedrals' roof muffled the noise just enough, but she imagined she would always prefer it on something softer.

Feet clipped in patent leather dress shoes as she came down the stairs and made way for the doors. It took a few minutes for her to exit, drop the mail in the box at the end of the sidewalked path, and then reenter--totally dry and unscathed. It was only then she finally opened her tin box, flashed a flame from her lighter, and lit up. As she inhaled and and exhaled a plume of smoke she put the items away and crossed the distance with intention of entering the kitchens, fully planning on making herself another cup of coffee... or perhaps some Earl Grey.

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 12-03-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar-1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] <font color="9ce619]“No bother, since I was already awake,” Saydri agreed with her wanting to make sure that there was no misunderstanding – though he was most definitely a man of few words, his quiet staring had caused a few to break down in tears or leave suddenly. A lot of the sudden reactions puzzled him, though from his experience they amused Saint and Setrin and it seemed his own misunderstanding made it even more humorous for them. He had merely learned to ignore their responses and not bother to ask for an explanation from them, instead he asked Ruka.

 “It is lunch time but some staff prefer to sleep in late, they are not morning people.” He added having long ago decided on his own that their sleeping habits seemed to have everything to do with preference rather than their occupation. He had a feeling even if they hadn’t had these jobs they would have preferred getting up late in the day. Adding with a mild smile, “I am sure that they eat lunch once they get up, though it is debatable if it should still be considered lunch by that time.”

 He tilted his head slightly, a curious action as he listened to the almost rough sound of her voice which was uncommon for most females. Though his silent pondering about her voice was drowned out by the sudden flurry of her words and he blinked in surprise, staring at her quietly before glancing down at the bills within the envelope. He assumed there would likely be enough, “Well…yes, there are more than fifty rooms for rent within the Inverted Cathedral, at least some of them are empty currently. As for the cost that is something you should speak to Ruka about.”

 The small smile widened as he watched the young woman fumble about spraying small droplets of water across the tiled floor. Only for it to disappear once she asked about his cooking. She wasn’t honestly asking if she could have some was she? His cooking was 50-50 just on edibility.

 He ate it because honestly he’d lived on worse but he wouldn’t necessarily feed it to someone. Let alone charge them for it. Saydri watched her, as if trying to decide on whether or not she was serious – he had been told his sense of humour was somewhat lacking. He took things too seriously instead of finding humour in the seemingly obvious joke – like the other day when Seri was teasing him about her boots. Still she looked like she meant it, and the idea was almost horrific to him which probably showed on his face, “Oh…well, that's probably not...I’m not actually—“

 It was then that the smell of burning reached his nose and his eyes widened, in a surprisingly swift movement he spun around and took a few steps towards the oven. Finally noticing the black smoke that was billowing up towards the ceiling from what had previously been a mix of tasty ingredients and he had an idea that the bottom was probably just as black. He cursed quite proficiently under his breath as he swiped the pan from the stove top and walked towards the sink before pausing, staring at the pan and then the sink undecided - did one need to put hot water on a burned meal?

 He was thoughtful, staring down at the now ruined food with a morose expression even as more smoke rose towards the ceiling as he got a fork he prodded at it. It didn’t even go more than half way down before it hit a solid burned mess, this was obviously not one of his good days in the kitchen…it didn’t even seem salvageable. And then the smoke alarm went off, blaring loudly.[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - danixiewrites - 12-03-2014

<img style="Lyta Fiera" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/lyta_zpsk848tfg6.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Lyta nodded, but his explanation made her nose wrinkle a moment before she smoothed it out. How could anyone not be a morning person? How could anyone stand to not see a sunrise? She'd been desperate to catch glimpses of the early city skyline from her hospital bed. It wasn't anything like it could be sitting by an ocean--though in Valesport, one could catch stunning sunsets by the water--but it was still the first sign of a new day, a new chance to...

The sky had been quite overcast when she'd headed into the autumn rain that morning. So far, her "new chance" was dreary. A sad frown threatened the corners of her lips, buoyed only by the fact that he returned a faint smile as he spoke. By the fact that there was a small hope left her in the cathedral. "Ruka?" she said quietly, more musing comment than question, and nodded again. She'd have to track the person down, hope that they were as understanding as this man seemed, but empty rooms were a step in the right direction.

Questions about where she should begin, and what she should expect this "Ruka" to look like were on the tip of her tongue, but they slid backward, lodging in her throat as her question regarding food prompted him to stare. Again.

Did I ask the wrong question? Is it too late to slink away? Perhaps very small plates are simply not done in such an establishment.

Grey eyes watched her so long the dish at his back began to smell a bit acrid under the scent of cheese. His expression was that of someone rather mortified, and Lyta began to feel a flicker of alarm. Perhaps...he'd just been being polite, and hadn't intended for her to take him up on the offer. "Not a bother," he'd said, but people often said things they didn't mean for the sake of propriety and politics.

Worse, her conclusion seemed verified by his hesitant response. But when her alarm deepened, it wasn't entirely from his words nor the feeling that despite reassurance, she had indeed intruded. That she hadn't immediately associated the root of the sensation with something burning told her exactly how far her vixen had buried herself. Lyta imagined she hovered a bit like a dust mite near the wall, clinging to it with all of the fingertips she could spare--the ones that weren't locked in death-grips around her belongings--torn between fleeing and helping, doing neither because the last desperate decision she'd made had cost her...everything.

A squeak made its way past her lips as smoke billowed toward the ceiling and she drew shorter and shorter breaths to keep it from clogging her nose. Brown eyes followed him wildly on his path across the kitchen, noting that at the very least the smoke did not appear to be flame, trying to understand the calm with which he studied the burned dish, and why he prodded at it as if it were still feasibly edible. Why he didn't seem thoroughly concerned, or even upset. And then her lips quivered, because she was certain the only reason it had burned was because she'd distracted him. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, and eyes watery from more than black, pungent smoke flicked toward the door.

When the alarm filled her ears, Lyta's strength ran out and she finally slid down the wall and curled into a tiny, tight ball of blue and white.