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 Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 8:30 am
 Night had finally fallen over the pound extinguishing the light of the sun from her windows. She sat up and stretched, arms high above her head, and swung out of bed her stomach giving a growl. Time for dinner. She combed through her hair with her fingers, dressed, and snatched her hat from her dresser before moving out the door of her room. The halls of the pound were blissfully dark and silent as she moved toward the kitchen, mind wandering as she debated what she wanted for 'breakfast' tonight.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 7:51 am
 There was never a better time for musical inspiration than the night. Or this is what Faust believed. Dreams, the night sky, the sound of the wildlife - they all proved to inspiring in their own right when the proper emotions were tied in. He removed his guitar from it's case and trotted down the hall, the stairs and towards the front door.
Of course he constantly looked over his shoulder. He had acquired what was considered a stalker. It irritated him but he got his meals prepared for him and clothes washed so... it wasn't that bad, right? Besides he wasn't drugged or anything as far as he was aware. There was just a lot of stress. Too much of it. Such was another reason why Faust ventured out late into the night to figure out new music. Stress relief.
He was a musician. One who could sing and play a variety of instruments. Two languages - no - three if English was included. Running a hand through his messy hawk he looked around once more to make sure he wasn't being followed. Okay. Something had to give. It wasn't a way for anyone to live their life. It was due to his horrid vision that he hadn't beaten the crap out of his stalker yet - mistaking him for a her. Faust would never hurt a woman who hasn't swung the first punch.
"..The ********?" He turned around towards the kitchen when he heard rummaging from that direction. That wasn't good.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 9:53 am
After pulling open several cabinets, two of the three refrigerators, and going through the pantry she wasn't any closer to figuring out what she wanted than she had been when she'd walked into the kitchen. She heaved a sighed placing her hands in her pockets, if all else fails resort to what is natural. She moved over to the third fridge and pulled it open. Several packets of red liquid dangled from the specially designed interior. One advantage of living here was that the sheer amount of vampires had led to them catering specially to their needs. She grabbed a packet of B+ and gently closed to fridge.
She looked down at it and sighed, the packaged stuff, though convenient and much safer, just never really hit the spot like the fresh stuff. Yanking open the microwave, she tossed the packet hit, punched in the appropriate amount of time, closed the door, and leaned on the counter to wait. It was as close as she could get. Her ears flicked at a distant sound, just barely heard over the hum of the microwave.
"Who the hell else is up at this hour?" she mumbled under her breath.
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