1.3 : Trembling

At long last, the fashion-defying loafers impacted with the concrete sidewalk. It was a good thing the Company had no interest in her when she was alive. It really wouldn't have been a problem to catch the woman who now panted at the bottom of the stairs in a rather uncomfortable way, thin fingers perched atop her knees. Yet this stop was less needed than the first had been, and she recovered rather quickly now, all things considered. Shaen felt the demoralizing night as it captured the City once more as a single moment, not the slow advance that the sunset would imply. There was a way in which, with only the warning of the death of the day, it closed in with a finality that was unmistakable to the past and future Conquerer of All. It was as clear as the Call of Gods was to those that still heard Them. Night had always been Shaen's time for action, and it invigorated her as it froze the citizens in their homes.

Rejecting the ice of the air, she drew herself to standing once more, feeling well and far more ready for the business at hand than the panting she had only moments ago ceased would generally denote. The snapping of evening into place had coincided with life flowing through her, bringing with it passion and the madness that often characterized her memories. The daydreams that she had hidden away ran rampant now as she started down the streets, keeping away from the street lamps. Her current attire hardly marked her as a streetwalker, but that certainly hadn't stopped the assumption in the past. Of course, her desired costuming actually did little to discourage the thought of an alternative career that involved a certain variety of conquest.

Each step in the shadows was accompanied with a surge of guilt for having left the City alone so long again. How she kept forgetting about it was beyond her, but with the softness of sight that accompanied her now, she was hardly fit to pursue that line of thought. For some reason, spectacles were intricately related to her success rate when it came to gathering formal intell about the soul-death.

Right. There was that part of her previous research to pick up as well. Damn, she had really fucked up this little lapse of time. Thinking about it now, with the enticing gloom around her, she was starting to recall the time before this last interval of office work. Gathering her new location, providence seemed to be with her tonight as she noted the intersection. Apparently, she had picked this location of soul-death well, as she was rather close to her favorite after-dark clothier. And the first step to getting back to herself was looking like it.

After a fashion montage and the swipe of a credit card belonging to Shaen Caliomoch that would likely cease to be paid in the near future, she exited the shop, carrying a rather small package, given the amount charged. But said small package carried a particularly full wardrobe, one that would soon be taking home in the apartment she kept for just such occasions.

Actually, she had been rather hard on herself for the length of time she had been in the other state. It really didn't get much better than having fresh clothing within walking distance from a place to scheme. Relieving the burden of regret some, the finely dressed woman re-entered what had been her home time and time again, ignoring the dust and inhaling the information.

There was much to be done.

WC:594