Brigetta Sandra
~*Daemon Thrace*~
Your. Worst. Nightmare.
The skies over Olivette seemed to darken some as a red-orange Saleen S7 Twin Turbo ripped into town. Dodging in and out of free spaces on the two lane divided road that cut through the town the vehicle throbbed with heavy metal. Screeching around a corner it slammed to a stop alongside a curb near the police station. The car idled there for a moment, brake lights still on, before it inched forward and then continued down the street. After pulling into a small, unmarked garage the car stopped, was parked, and then shut off. As the engine cut out and began to cool a tall, suave looking man emerged from the driver's side.
Daemon shut the door of his Beloved, a black, heavy looking duffel bag securely grasped in his left hand. With his right the man reached into his shirt pocket, withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes with the label having been torn away. Shaking it against his thigh, one popped out from the rest and it was clasped between his lips. The pack of cigarettes was returned to Daemon's shirt pocket and a lighter was pulled from his front pocket. One swipe of the side of his thumb against the gear on the lighter and a small flame arose. He lifted the lighter towards his face until the flame licked at the end of the cigarette. Thumb sliding off of the small white button that released the butane, the lighter was slipped back into the pocket as he took a long, deep drag from the white stick in his mouth. With an exhale of smoke as he walked out of the garage Daemon mumbled, to himself.
"Dirty little town."
Another drag on the cigarette and he reached up, pulling on the handle of the door of the garage until it slid shut, hiding hid Beloved from sight. He jerked on the duffel bag's handle, settling his jacket on his dangerously toned frame before he began to stroll down the street. The soft thump of his black steel toed boots on the ground was unobstructed by any other noise as the streets of Olivette seemed to have gone empty. Odd, since it was around two in the afternoon, he guessed. A faded pair of grey coloured blue jeans swished together as he walked, the legs reaching down enough to cover the top portion of his shoes, only allowing a view of the part that actually covered his foot. A black leather belt held his jeans in place where he wanted them, though it was hidden by a black T-shirt, which was hidden by a sweat shirt which was fashionably covered with a leather jacket. His overall appearance was slim, and the strength that lie beneath the clothing was hidden. Bulky was not the word to describe him, though tall and intimidating would have sufficed.
A flick of his wrist jarred his sleeves from his wrists, allowing Daemon to glance at his watch. Time to get to work to clean this place up. Instead of heading for the petty police department he made his way towards an apartment building about seven blocks away. Not too long of a walk for him. Besides, with his showy, bright and odd coloured car he didn't want to make a spectacle of himself just yet. He would walk for a while. Revealing himself was not in his daily agenda for today.
Daemon shut the door of his Beloved, a black, heavy looking duffel bag securely grasped in his left hand. With his right the man reached into his shirt pocket, withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes with the label having been torn away. Shaking it against his thigh, one popped out from the rest and it was clasped between his lips. The pack of cigarettes was returned to Daemon's shirt pocket and a lighter was pulled from his front pocket. One swipe of the side of his thumb against the gear on the lighter and a small flame arose. He lifted the lighter towards his face until the flame licked at the end of the cigarette. Thumb sliding off of the small white button that released the butane, the lighter was slipped back into the pocket as he took a long, deep drag from the white stick in his mouth. With an exhale of smoke as he walked out of the garage Daemon mumbled, to himself.
"Dirty little town."
Another drag on the cigarette and he reached up, pulling on the handle of the door of the garage until it slid shut, hiding hid Beloved from sight. He jerked on the duffel bag's handle, settling his jacket on his dangerously toned frame before he began to stroll down the street. The soft thump of his black steel toed boots on the ground was unobstructed by any other noise as the streets of Olivette seemed to have gone empty. Odd, since it was around two in the afternoon, he guessed. A faded pair of grey coloured blue jeans swished together as he walked, the legs reaching down enough to cover the top portion of his shoes, only allowing a view of the part that actually covered his foot. A black leather belt held his jeans in place where he wanted them, though it was hidden by a black T-shirt, which was hidden by a sweat shirt which was fashionably covered with a leather jacket. His overall appearance was slim, and the strength that lie beneath the clothing was hidden. Bulky was not the word to describe him, though tall and intimidating would have sufficed.
A flick of his wrist jarred his sleeves from his wrists, allowing Daemon to glance at his watch. Time to get to work to clean this place up. Instead of heading for the petty police department he made his way towards an apartment building about seven blocks away. Not too long of a walk for him. Besides, with his showy, bright and odd coloured car he didn't want to make a spectacle of himself just yet. He would walk for a while. Revealing himself was not in his daily agenda for today.
