06-23-2013, 10:10 PM
It's a long trip, and one that's made immediately following another long trip. Erich and Charlotte have had days to rest and relax, to soak up sun and build up balance and muscle riding waves and playing in the ocean. Ingrid only just joined them when they started packing up their things, and after her own drive across the country to find them. And after a brief but brutal skirmish on the beach, she finds herself stowing away in the backseat of the truck for that first leg, sleek and lupus shaped, head tucked almost daintily atop her front paws. She does not sleep in the tinyhouse, but surprisingly prefers to keep quiet company with the other wolves.
She finds a space on the ferry to sleep, too. No one bothers her, at least no mortals do. She is small and slender and graceful like a dancer, and she is terrifying. Where the boy in her party feels like a thug, this beautiful, elegant, obviously rich Asian woman has the presence of an animal, and a predatory one at that. Only the boy comes near her, and she doesn't let him stay there long. When she can take no more of his ceaseless pacing, she tells him to Go away. Catching up on her sleep puts her in better spirits for the next leg of their journey, not that it shows much on the outside.
By the time they reach the Broadway building, Ingrid is not so sharply dressed as Erich might expect. He can count on one hand, leaving off thumb and pinky, the number of times he's seen the Shadow Lord Ragabash looking less than impeccable. That includes this time. When they pile out of the truck her hair, short and choppy around her heart-shaped face, is disheveled. Her clothing is wrinkled, her sleeveless shirt untucked from the hem of her high-waisted, navy blue shorts. Even looking rumpled Ingrid holds herself with dignity while she looks up and up at the great black monolith of glass and steel and concrete.
They make their way inside, and they clambor into the elevator where the panel slides back and examines them and chirps at them oh so cheerily. When the doors open onto the dormitory floor, Ingrid waits for Erich and Charlotte to step out first, but she doesn't follow them out. Instead she presses the 'door close' button, leaving friends and lovers alike to their reunion with a relative sense of privacy. She'll rejoin them after she's offered her services and skills to the Warder.
She finds a space on the ferry to sleep, too. No one bothers her, at least no mortals do. She is small and slender and graceful like a dancer, and she is terrifying. Where the boy in her party feels like a thug, this beautiful, elegant, obviously rich Asian woman has the presence of an animal, and a predatory one at that. Only the boy comes near her, and she doesn't let him stay there long. When she can take no more of his ceaseless pacing, she tells him to Go away. Catching up on her sleep puts her in better spirits for the next leg of their journey, not that it shows much on the outside.
By the time they reach the Broadway building, Ingrid is not so sharply dressed as Erich might expect. He can count on one hand, leaving off thumb and pinky, the number of times he's seen the Shadow Lord Ragabash looking less than impeccable. That includes this time. When they pile out of the truck her hair, short and choppy around her heart-shaped face, is disheveled. Her clothing is wrinkled, her sleeveless shirt untucked from the hem of her high-waisted, navy blue shorts. Even looking rumpled Ingrid holds herself with dignity while she looks up and up at the great black monolith of glass and steel and concrete.
They make their way inside, and they clambor into the elevator where the panel slides back and examines them and chirps at them oh so cheerily. When the doors open onto the dormitory floor, Ingrid waits for Erich and Charlotte to step out first, but she doesn't follow them out. Instead she presses the 'door close' button, leaving friends and lovers alike to their reunion with a relative sense of privacy. She'll rejoin them after she's offered her services and skills to the Warder.