[b]-Zeiss Calavan-[/b]


Zeiss awoke to the sounds of lightning striking in the distance, groaning as she took her time looking at her clock, then out the window; it was about sundown. She turned to see the amount of papers littering the floor of her apartment and the fact her not taking got worse as it approaching the bed. Muttering to herself to be more organized, pushed herself off the ground and started picking them up. She must’ve worked until morning again, given the spilled coffee in the dining room and the scribbling on the wall, but it’s not as though she had some time schedule to follow. Most of her delivery requests would be done by the following morning.

Stepping into the shower to wash away the bags under her eyes, Zeiss wondered what there was to do today. The war outside was raging on as violently as ever, not that she ever partook in the fighting. Most of her assignments came down writing down the more complicated scriptures other warlocks and witches had trouble with so that they could be busy fighting while she did more of the literary work. Made sense, her scriptures were the best there was and it was somewhat difficult to replicate. 

[i]When are people going to learn how to write better scripture; it’s a language, not hocus pocus. Well, if I put it that way, it sound more like a science than sorcery[/i], she thought as pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

Since she didn’t feel like going to the workshop today, it was a good time to try out a bar. Because of the diversity within this central hub, many of the little places she walked by were always bustling with Lycans, vampires, and even magicfolk like herself. The bar she had set her eyes on were somewhere near the northern part of the city; maybe a cool breeze will sweep her way. She expected mostly Lycan to be on that part of town, given how close it would be to their former territory, but she never knew what she might find; something always surprised her when she leaves her little workshop in her new environment. Pacing to her dresser, she put on her gold earrings, a red tube top, blue jeans and a black silk jacket; nothing too fancy, just something that’ll make people dart their eyes for a second. She equipped her copper watch and took a black leather handbag, placing a few of her essentials into it (phone, money, dagger), including a pad and paper; never know where inspiration might take her. Fitting into some black platform shoes, she whisked off to her destination.

As she walked, she heard the whisperings of those around her; not to her, but of information. Once the Rebellion finally decided to do something, the news tended to spread like wildfire. Initially it was somewhat annoying having none of the attention on her, but she got used to everyone's hurried voices going on about the latest news; it seems as though quite a few warlocks had engaged in battle against something fierce. 

Not that it was any matter to her.

She arrived at her destination and looked around.