[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjE1OC4zMjUzNGYuVG05aGFDQkNaV0YxYlc5dWRBLCwuMAAA/donrees-claws.regular.png[/img]

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QK8mJJJvaes]Thrift Shop?[/url][/center]


[Color=darkslategray][b]Time:[/b][/color] Morning
[Color=darkslategray][b]Location:[/b][/color] Through the alley and into a thrift store
[Color=darkslategray][b]Interaction with:[/b][/color] Adrian[@role model]

Noah stopped in the alleyways halfway between the Witch’s Brew and Alexei’s, not out of exhaustion, but disgust. He would not become the kind of vampire that drank his blood from a cup, he would not set foot in that accursed place unless it was to wreak destruction. When he ate it would be because he earned it; because he killed his prey and earned his place on top of the food chain. Noah would not allow his momentary weakness to take away what he had been taught, he would not seek aid from lesser creatures. Instead he paused to gather his strength, regain his sense of who and what he was; a killer. He rested against the side of the building, sliding down the wall and trying to remember what was nearby that could be of use to him.

Noah also checked his phone and saw a message from Adrian that reminded him to watch his back. He chuckled slightly, and the slight movement of his face caused him to wince. He took a quick selfie of his bloodied face and sent it to Adrian with a text that read, [i]thanks for the tip, might be a bit harder now but I’ll try and keep my eye out for anything[/i], and a winking emoji. He slid the phone back into his pocket. He would not ask Adrian for help either, this was his problem to solve, and he would not let the others of his clan see him as weak. He took off his shirt and held it against the oozing void where his eye had been until the bleeding eventually stopped, by then he had a new idea. 

In order to further motivate himself he used his thumb to press around his eye socket, a raw wave of pain gave him that motivation. He snarled as he stood tossing the bloodied shirt to the ground and made his way through the alleyways and keeping himself near the back entrances of buildings. He reached a small building and lingered by the back entrance taking a deep breath to catch the scent of the place, mothballs and age. Noah had come to a small shop that was a sort of thrift store for vintage clothing and costumes, a real go to spot amongst his kind. Force was not needed to open the door, it was left unlocked, people always seemed to think they were somehow safer in the daylight. 

Once inside Noah waited and listened until he could only hear one person inside the shop, one set of footsteps, one faint heartbeat that called to him as it pumped blood through his prey. Noah walked towards the front, his fangs exposed, his throat burning with expectation of its next meal. He spotted the store’s lone cleric, the scent of fear rolling off of them as he told them not to move. He locked the front door, drew shades down over the windows, and flipped the sign on the door to read ‘Closed’, His prey offered him money, begged for life, promised not to call the police; all things that were of no concern to Noah. 

[Color=slategray]“I’m looking for an eyepatch.”[/color] He said, his voice hazy. A shaky hand pointed him towards a display of expensive pirate costumes. Noah grinned and tilted his head. [Color=slategray]“Were any of them worn by a real pirate?”[/color] He asked, but his question was met with stunned silence and the intoxicating aroma of fear. Since the shopkeeper was no longer helpful they became his meal. Noah launched himself across the counter and tore into the neck of his prey, their blood replacing what he had lost. Then he felt much better, he wandered around the store and made his way to the employee bathroom where he cleaned the dried blood from himself. He stared for a moment at the red hole that held no eye, and thought about how cool he would look with an eyepatch, like a proper villain. 

He found himself another shirt, black and with some logo far too faded to really read. Though not exactly clean, as it smelled old and human just as the rest of the shop did, but it was not covered in blood and that was good enough. Near the display set up of various pirate themed costumes he found himself a black coat with big shiny silver buttons and a black leather eyepatch. He flipped the sign back on the front door to again read ‘Open’ and headed out the front door unconcerned with the body left behind the counter. He fiddled with the eyepatch as he walked until he was satisfied with how it sat, and wondered what he should do next. Where exactly did witches hang around? Noah had no idea but he knew he couldn’t expect every place with witches to have it labeled on the sign.