The loft the young vampire occupied was a wide and darkened space, dressed with fine things she’d acquired over the last few decades. Moments ago, she had stood in the center of it all, wondering if it would survive the oncoming war. It was an odd feeling, the sense of loss that accompanied the idea of seeing it perish. In her glowing eyes, it was her life’s work. Her beautiful loft, with these beautiful things, was a source of validation for her worth and skill. She had secured many a client by bringing them here, allowing them to see who she was through the lens of what she had come to possess. “Just things,” she had reminded herself, as she buried her attachment beneath the instinctual need to survive. It was simple: she couldn’t take these things along, and she might never be coming back. It all depended on how this night progressed. 

Now, she stood before a decorative floor standing mirror. She was a tall, willowy creature. Her height she had inherited from her father, and every other human aspect seemed to speak of her mother. Her skin tone had paled, but her facial features and long, shining black hair were reminiscent of the woman who raised her in her mortal days. Even her mother’s eyes had somewhat survived her transition into immortality; Kaori’s natural eye color had been so deep, that it muddled the bright crimson that was typical of vampires’ eyes. Instead, her eyes were now the color of red wine.

It occurred to her, as she looked over herself, that these similarities would be the only thing she was guaranteed to keep of her mothers. Her eyes shifted from the mirror to the wardrobe that stood nearby. Moving towards it, she pulled a long silk robe from a hanger. It was deep blue color, not bright enough to compromise the night. This garment had been passed down through the generations of her family, and from her mother’s hands to her own. She tugged the smooth fabric around her shoulders, allowing it to dangle loosely from her frame. 

If nothing else, at least she could die in it.
 
Everything else she took would be purely practical. Behind a sliding wall was her personal armory. From it, she selected a number of small, easily concealable weapons. They were tucked into various compartments inside her boots, leather pants, and beneath her top. She almost felt vulnerable leaving without heavier firepower, but it was key to lay low in times like these. Big weapons invited questions, and she didn’t much care to answer them when the future seemed quite so…unpredictable. As she approached the heavy metal door that separated her apartment from a dimly lit hallway, she cast a sidelong glance at a decorated red envelope that lay open on a coffee table. 

She gave a roll of her glowing eyes. Vampires were such dramatic creatures. Nevertheless, she swiped it up between two fingers and tucked it into her pants. 

She stepped through the wide door, bringing it shut with a notable ‘clang’. A flight of stairs would lead her upwards and spit her out onto the nighttime street. Suddenly, she was a part of the night, blended to it like moving shadow. Her black hair acted as a cloak, hanging down to nearly graze her hips. It would take a keen pair of eyes to find the glint of her pale face reflecting the moonlight, or the colored accents in the floral pattern of her robe.