- Joined
- Oct 12, 2017
Another boring weekend spent in London. Riegler was glad to be headed home again, if only for the soothing comfort of being alone, surrounded by his books and garden of stones. No demanding, dull parties, surrounded by upper crust socialites, playing their meaningless little games with each other. No lies and theatrics to hide who he truly was from societal and moral judgements.
Although, if Emery was truly honest, it hadn't been all bad. He'd had opportunity to visit an embalming session at the funeral home, watching with fascination as the body was put through the different steps in the process, prepared for burial. And he'd gotten some new pulp magazines with one of his favorite authors, H.P.Lovecraft's stories in them. So far, no one seemed to notice the eerie storyteller's work but Emery had no doubt, someday soon, everyone would know about Arkham and the horrible, dreadful things that occurred there. Plus, the few hunts he'd had there had been exceptional; for all the threats surrounding them, rich people in the city were so gullible, and his thrall worked particularly well to clear their memories of his...feedings.
So, the feeling he had as he boarded the train was one of a mixture of relief to finally be headed home but not overwhelmingly unpleasant to regard his time in the city. It would be nice to return to Bromsgrove and his isolated estate.
The sound of the train whistled signalled they'd be leaving the station soon as Emery made his way through the corridor, night, like an oppressive force, pressing in through the windows that lined the one side of the hall. Being a creature of the evening, he had avoided the particular fatal sensitivity to daylight, yet he still held some revulsion towards it. He had to often wear shaded spectacles in the sun, lest he be rendered completely helpless and blind, and he grew physically ill after prolonged periods in direct sunlight. And to top it all off, he was plagued by a constant headache that only grew worse the longer he remained awake during the hours between dawn and sunset. Even if he hadn't slept, as soon as the sun went down, it was like a balm to his splitting skull. So, a night train ride, to avoid being awake during the day as much as he could help it.
Erroneously, he'd assumed that an evening train would be the less popular choice, allowing some privacy on the ride home. But as he walked the length of the train, thin carryon bag in hand, Emery peered into the seating compartments he passed, growing despondent as each appeared to be full. Finally, he reached a compartment that seemed more open the others, a young woman sitting on her own on one of the inward facing benches. It was a little untoward for a man and a woman, unmarried, to share a train car together, but at the moment, he was out of options. Glancing down the hall one last time, he considered venturing further, before finally turning and leaning in the doorway to speak to the young woman.
"Pardon me," he said in a voice deep and weathered, flashing an apologetic smirk at her. Motioning at the bench seat across from her with the edge of his leather attache, he cocked his head in humble supplication to her. "Would you mind terribly much if I shared this car with you? All the others appear full up."
Then he graced her with a charming grin, neatly trimmed, dark hair encircling his lips, his teeth straight edged and clean. He looked to be a normal man in his early 40's but in actuality, he was almost a century old, his murky green eyes speaking of the lifetime he'd already lived, even as his expression desired to set her at ease with a meek, charming affect. Standing at 6'2", his dark brown hair was kept short both on the top and the sides, presenting a very genteel and neat appearance. And his suit was very fine, 3 pieces, layered, charcoal black and an expensive, fashionable cut, his slate blue shirt just visible underneath his vest, and bringing a bit of color to the outfit.
Although, if Emery was truly honest, it hadn't been all bad. He'd had opportunity to visit an embalming session at the funeral home, watching with fascination as the body was put through the different steps in the process, prepared for burial. And he'd gotten some new pulp magazines with one of his favorite authors, H.P.Lovecraft's stories in them. So far, no one seemed to notice the eerie storyteller's work but Emery had no doubt, someday soon, everyone would know about Arkham and the horrible, dreadful things that occurred there. Plus, the few hunts he'd had there had been exceptional; for all the threats surrounding them, rich people in the city were so gullible, and his thrall worked particularly well to clear their memories of his...feedings.
So, the feeling he had as he boarded the train was one of a mixture of relief to finally be headed home but not overwhelmingly unpleasant to regard his time in the city. It would be nice to return to Bromsgrove and his isolated estate.
The sound of the train whistled signalled they'd be leaving the station soon as Emery made his way through the corridor, night, like an oppressive force, pressing in through the windows that lined the one side of the hall. Being a creature of the evening, he had avoided the particular fatal sensitivity to daylight, yet he still held some revulsion towards it. He had to often wear shaded spectacles in the sun, lest he be rendered completely helpless and blind, and he grew physically ill after prolonged periods in direct sunlight. And to top it all off, he was plagued by a constant headache that only grew worse the longer he remained awake during the hours between dawn and sunset. Even if he hadn't slept, as soon as the sun went down, it was like a balm to his splitting skull. So, a night train ride, to avoid being awake during the day as much as he could help it.
Erroneously, he'd assumed that an evening train would be the less popular choice, allowing some privacy on the ride home. But as he walked the length of the train, thin carryon bag in hand, Emery peered into the seating compartments he passed, growing despondent as each appeared to be full. Finally, he reached a compartment that seemed more open the others, a young woman sitting on her own on one of the inward facing benches. It was a little untoward for a man and a woman, unmarried, to share a train car together, but at the moment, he was out of options. Glancing down the hall one last time, he considered venturing further, before finally turning and leaning in the doorway to speak to the young woman.
"Pardon me," he said in a voice deep and weathered, flashing an apologetic smirk at her. Motioning at the bench seat across from her with the edge of his leather attache, he cocked his head in humble supplication to her. "Would you mind terribly much if I shared this car with you? All the others appear full up."
Then he graced her with a charming grin, neatly trimmed, dark hair encircling his lips, his teeth straight edged and clean. He looked to be a normal man in his early 40's but in actuality, he was almost a century old, his murky green eyes speaking of the lifetime he'd already lived, even as his expression desired to set her at ease with a meek, charming affect. Standing at 6'2", his dark brown hair was kept short both on the top and the sides, presenting a very genteel and neat appearance. And his suit was very fine, 3 pieces, layered, charcoal black and an expensive, fashionable cut, his slate blue shirt just visible underneath his vest, and bringing a bit of color to the outfit.