Hello! I haven't been back here for several years due to school/work/moving/blahblahblah. I actually started up this little story, that I still haven't come up with a proper title for, for my Senior final in Creative Writing. XD I'm quite fond of it and hope that it will develop into something much better as I work on it here and there.
If I could get some helpful feedback from you, my lovely little readers, that would be wonderful and also, I've a tiny favor to ask! I would just love to get a decent title on this thing, so if you can throw some my way, that would be great!
Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy the show!
Chapter One
The room was totally silent when the Master of Chicago strode inside. All eyes drifted to gaze at him; most blank and expressionless, others holding nervousness or eagerness.
Asher was a man of casual elegance.
His pale gray, wavy tresses were pulled back into a bouncing ponytail by cobalt, velvet ribbon at the nape of his neck. He wore a blue, cotton shirt, which brought out the brightness of his sapphire-like eyes, pressed black dress pants, and shiny black boots with a buckle on the outer sides. It gave them somewhat of an older-fashioned appearance.
Paper-white flesh shone in the dim lighting of the large living room-like area. Crimson lips curved into a friendly smile that seemed to bring his angular features; with a slightly crooked nose; possibly from having been broken a time or two in his human days, sharp cheekbones, and barely pointed chin, to life.
Asher had a tall, slender body, but one could see the faint signs of muscles on his arms.
The effect was non-threatening, yet, over-all, quite impressive.
Those over-bright eyes swept across the entirety of the large room, taking in every person seated in the plush armchairs, couches, and love seats.
The room was decorated in warm shades of gold and reds. The carpet was a darker than dark crimson and the walls were painted a faded golden. There were at least five couches, seven love seats, and over a dozen big armchairs.
A fire cracked and popped merrily in the fireplace at the middle of one wall. It was made of red bricks and had bits of shiny gold in the metalwork around it.
Numerous paintings lined the dark walls of the sitting area. They ranged from random, brightly hued flowers, to shadowed scenes of thundery landscapes and lonely structures. All in gilt golden frames, of course.
One of the other men stood abruptly from his perch on a love seat and moved towards Asher. He had a long mane of bubblegum-pink hair tied in a low braid with a gray tie that matched his stormy eyes. He was in gray and black tonight; a gray button-down shirt with black slacks, and gray dress-shoes.
He grinned. That one look brightened his smooth, handsome features. Such a look made him seem entirely human; a usually impossible feat for most vampires.
"Miro, it's been too long." Asher said in amusement as he and the pink haired one embraced strongly for a long moment. "I wish you didn't live so far away." He added with a faint sigh.
It had been quite a few years since he had last seen the Master of Kyoto and he missed Miro's casual attitude and carefree nature. He just seemed to radiate calm and reassurance. It was hard to worry about anything around the gray-eyed man.
A warm chuckle erupted from deep in Miro's throat as he pulled back. "We live very far apart, Asher dear. I hate to say it, but we can't really visit each other every weekend for fancy. Things would go all to Hell without us around to keep our people in line." He pointed out. He then turned and gestured towards the four others with him.
Two were female and two male.
The first woman wore a hot pink, polyester dress that barely covered up her thighs and matching chunky, three-inch heels. Her short-clipped nails showed off the same blinding shade of pink, as did the thick streaks in her black layered locks, which brushed her almost bared shoulders. She had a small, pinched face and serious brown eyes shadowed with pink; puffy lips colored the same as well. Yet, none of that took away from her attractiveness.
She stood behind the couch next to the second woman.
Said female was obviously of Asian decent; Chinese, to be more exact. She was clad in a long, tight dress of varying shades of greens and blues. The dress did a great job of accentuating her curvy figure and those long legs that went on and on forever. A snake-like dragon slithered along the length of the Chinese style garment, glittering with shining sequences and bright thread. Her too straight, ebon hair flowed passed her shoulders and dangled at her barely existent waist. She gazed at everything and nothing with upturned, calm, caramel eyes. Yes, she certainly was quite Chinese. The gleam of her two-inch long fingernails caught the vampire's eye and he raised a brow. They were painted a dark, forest green; which happened to match her dress well enough. Four-inch stick-like heeled, strap sandals adorned her petite feet, toenails painted the same as her fingers. All was painted toxic green; lips, nails, and eyes.
And nestled between the two women, who stood close enough on either side of the couch, they would be considered bodyguards, sat a rather small, youthful-looking lad.
Though he was sitting, standing he would be just over five feet short.
A petite thing, the boy was built with a small frame; limbs slim and structure frail. His skin held a healthy, rosy color, making him seem very alive, unlike many of the others in the room.
His garb consisted of simple gray slacks, loose on his thin body, a lightly hued, sandy shirt, sleeves folded up to his knobby elbows, and similarly colored, ever so slightly pointed, dress shoes.
Delicate features; rounded cheeks, full, dark pink lips, softly sloping cheek bones, a tiny nose, the tip uplifted just a tad. Shy, sky-blue eyes finished off his face. One would easily call him feminine.
What stopped the young man from being confused for a young woman was the short, boyish hair cut. His chocolate tresses were clipped and settled around his somewhat chubby cheeks, the very longest strands going only as far as his chin, revealing the very male cut of his jaw.
A timid smile adorned those ruby lips as he sat, waiting patiently in the fluffy, and black leather couch.
The last of Miro's entourage happened to be quite the nervous, fidgety man. A pair of thin framed, circular, silver spectacles perched dangerously close to the tip of his long, pointed nose. His cheeks were sunken in some areas; skin a snowy, powdery shade, almost the same as his hair.
Said hair was pulled back in a white rope, dangling uselessly down his back.
Dressed neatly, yet unspectacular, in silvery slacks, a matching vest over a black silk shirt, he seemed for all the world a nerdy scholar. Shiny black, round-tipped shoes and a silver and black striped tie completed the handsome getup.
"Misoka and Yori are the two lovely ladies. They're little Tatsu's guardians." Miro informed merrily. "And Tsune is my second. Much more responsible than I am." He admitted, giving a careless chuckle.
Tapping his fingers in an erratic fashion on a thick arm of the white, velvety armchair he was seated upon, Tsune gave a slight bow of his head in Asher's direction, forcing a weak smile.
"Wonderful to meet you all." Asher retorted, nodding to each in turn.