Doors Masquerade (doorsmasquerade) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-03-28 17:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | plot: masquerade |
Who: Black Death
What: Reveal Times
Where: Passages Hotel
When: Immediately following the masquerade.
Warnings/Rating: None
After its encounter with the wolf, the panther had retreated to a secluded corner in the foyer to lick its wounds, both figuratively and literally. Black fur was saturated in blood over its shoulder, cuts littering its ribs, but the one on the shoulder was, by far, the worst of the damage. As much as it wanted to pick a fight, to take this boiling, surging anger out on someone else, it had no desire to tangle again with the wolf. Blood had been spilt this evening, and it had no desire to add to the growing puddle.
So it sat, head on its paws, and by no way was it a relaxed position it lay in. Its tail flicked this way and that, warning off passersby that ventured too close to it. It wasn't long until sunrise, and the panther watched as the light started to stream through the windows, the foyer shifting and changing to become that of the Passages Hotel, and with that change, the panther itself changed as well. Arms and legs lengthened, its face changed into something decidedly masculine, dark hair and eyes just as dark, the black he had worn to the party torn at the shoulder and ribs. But one similarity remained between the panther and this man: the anger.
A hiss of breath escaped him as he pushed himself up to his feet, clapping a hand over his shoulder, the bite deep, muscle tissue peeking through the torn skin, blood soaking his shirt front and back. The other hand fished his phone from his pocket, already in motion as he all but stalked from the hotel. "I need a fucking cab," he told the person that answered, and there was no hiding the venom in his voice as he stood on the walk and waited. "Hospital. No, I don't need the police. Just a ride to the god damned hospital, please." Thumbing his phone off with a growl, Alexander Price paced the walk as he waited for his cab, agitation and anger, hackles raised in response.
He'd find that wolf, one way or another. And he would make the dog pay with a bite of his own. Alex swore that.