Nightly Routine [Open]

[Warewolf]

*Boop* A stubby paw-like finger tapped the "clock out" button on the touchscreen. The digital clock just ticked to 1:54 AM, almost an hour past closing and technically his scheduled 9 hour shift. Plum eyes blinked slowly at the screen, tired and wore out. It was the weekend after all and the place was always packed for lunch and dinner. At least that's what he could speculate with how much food moves through the kitchen. Luckily customer service wasn't within his job requirements, lacking severely in the social interaction department. Before dropping his hand to his side, Skye brought both up to his face and rubbed at his face, then slowly pulled them down his face. Somehow this refreshed the tiredness of those eyes. Turning away from the screen, he noticed one of his coworkers turning out some of the lights in the dining area. Heading to the employee lounge and lockers, Skye found his designated locker and reached up to the eye level latch. The tall, thin sheet metal door shuttered as it opened and shook on its hinges. The hooks within out of reach and the top shelf even further, he floated upwards, feet leaving the ground to reach the upper confines of his personal space. His over-the-shoulder bag hung on one of these hooks and over it was the coat he wore on his way here. Returning to street clothes, Skye removed his soiled chef coat to reveal a thin shirt underneath that clinged to his body. Changing into a dry shirt which then followed with a zip-up hoodie, he folded up his chef coat and stuffed it into his bag "Wish we got a few of these so I didn't have to wash it every day. It's gonna get worn out", Skye internally thought. Grabbing said bag and a pair of folded up thin materialed sweatpants from the shelf. Other than a few extra clothes he kept for emergencies, his locker was empty of things he needed. Making a pit stop in the restroom and changing into his comfy pants, he said goodbye to his remaining coworkers til morrow and pushes his way past the glass doors to the establishment.



The cool air of the night hit him like a breath of fresh air. The sounds of the city rang in his tall ears for a moment before becoming accustomed. The north central district of Thor not nearly as bustling as downtown, nightlife still ran the streets and the red and white glow of cars passed by. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Skye headed home for the night, finally starting to become accustomed this new routine of employment. Residing in the eastern suburbs of Thor, he headed south east which luckily for him was a well lit street. When on his commute back home, he usually walks it for a little bit until the lights on the street become more sparse. That wasn't for another couple miles.



Footfall was quiet. But that was probably the cause of his footwear. One might think it unusual for an anthro to wear footwear, however as meticulous as Skye was with his personal appearance and to keep his paw pads as soft as possible, it was not unusual for him. His footwear was simple but falling far from fashionable. Using his martial arts ankle wraps, they covered each toe separately and halfway up his foot to his ankle. From there he either has a custom made "boot" of sorts that is steel toed as is required of his profession, which he almost never walks home in as they are very uncomfortable for walking. His walking paw covers consist of a more sandal-like shoe, a soft shock absorbing sole that ties around his toes and up his foot about as far as his wraps.



Still within the eating district, as he calls it, Skye would pass several pubs, bars and other late night restaurants that remained open super late. Often he had to keep his head down and push himself past the crowds that sometimes gathered on the sidewalks. Often he ignored them and they ignored him, but other times they would become more... confrontational. Dancing between the taller folks, his shoulder caught the side of an inebriated patron of a bar he passed. An "Eep!" escaped his lips as he jumped away. "Ey! Watch where yer goin!...huh?", the patron called out but as with Skye's stature, he went unnoticed. Another compromised patron who saw what happened, though further away, yelled a little to loud, "Hey kid! Ah think yer out a l'ddle too late! Ru*belch*un home to mommy now! Haha!", the patrons arm swung violently as he tried to point at the small anthro. Wobbly eyes turned to try to see what the commotion about. Already a few buildings down by now, Skye threw the hood of his jacket over his head and inconspicuously power walked away, eyes staring at the sidewalk. A foot entered his vision, albeit too late. Nose mashing into a somewhat soft barrier in black clothing, he stumbled back. A burly kangaroo anthro grunted as he eyed the half-pint that ran into him. Face flushing with embarrassment and hands waving in front of him, Skye apologized, "Oh god, I'm so sorry Frank... wait you're not Frank." Not realizing who he thought it was, eyes shot up to look. Frank was a big black bear anthro that usually bounced the nightclub that Skye was in front of. "Blimey mate, ya awlright?... Aw nai, Frankie's off t'night. Ya know Frankie?" Skye sheepishly nodded in answer. Explaining he passes by almost every night and has gotten to know Frank, the roo obliged with a name: Jack. Exchanging pleasantries, Skye bid him goodnight and Jack gave a solid nod. Unmoving, the roo only watched as Skye continued on his way. Heart starting to calm in his chest, sirens could be heard in the distance, slowly getting closer. Slowing his walk, Skye pulled his hood back a little and turned to look behind him. No flashing lights could be seen as far as he could see down the road. Turning again to face forward, the same: no lights. It must be a street or two down, he thought to himself. Distracted again, Skye barely noticed the fight starting to break out a block or so down the street, right in his path. Trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible, he acted as if he didn't see it and swiftly crossed the street. Hopping up on to the sidewalk, he peered over again, this time not turning his head, and saw a group having a full on brawl. Wincing and breathing in through his teeth, he silently shook his head and felt somewhat relieved they didn't see him. Keeping an eye on them however, he didn't want to keep his guard down completely and be too surprised to hear "Hey, who's that?" call out his way. 

[Xenoxice]

It was a night that wasn't quite typical for Zenithe.  Between contracts at the moment with no work in sight, it was high time a little R&R was due.  Being a shape-shifting dragon with thousands of years ahead of you, you learned to appreciate work and relaxation equally lest one become boring by focusing too much on it.  If one would consider hunting others as a bounty hunter work that is. Some referred to him as a 'legal murderer'.  Others saw him as a private cop for hire.  Regardless it was another story all together.  Deciding to sample the drinks and cuisines he had yet to try in the central district, Zenithe decided to see what the local clubs had to offer.  Again with such an expansive lifetime ahead of you, one also learned to appreciate every type of food from raw to cooked, exotic meals to leftovers.  Looking around as he walked the streets in his typical hooded and cloaked attire, his blood-red crimson eyes peering through the only opening between the mask and hood he wore, he found a nightclub he had frequented before but hadn't quite sampled everything it had to offer so he decided this would be a good place to start his relaxation time.  Coming up to the door he was met by a rather large kangaroo, even by normal standards.  He gazed up at him for only a moment before conversation broke out. 

"Oi there, ya know I can't let ya in with that blinkin' weapon o' yours Zenithe.  Even if ye' on the job.  Last time I let ya in like that boss 'ad me on garbage duty for a month instead o' bein out 'ere.  Speakin' o' which he still 'avin ta clean up that mess ya made."  Zenithe smirked behind his hood with a small chuckle reminiscing of his last contract that had led him here.  He was forced to shift into his dragon form after a rather short but intensive skirmish against his target and ended up smashing a few pillars, breaking half the tables and causing a sizeable chunk of the roof to cave in.  All while patrons were still in the club running around in panic.  With a dismissing wave of his hand Zenithe retorted.  "As I recall we were square on that since I paid for the cost of the damages and if I remember correctly it wasn't my weapon that did anything to damage the club."  Jack had given him a small sneer but smirked at the same time.   "Doesn' matta. Boss still had me arse for a good while since I 'ad been the one ta let ya in."  Zenithe gave a small shrug.  "I'm not here on business tonight Jack, I'm here to relax.  I'm between contracts and have no intention of leveling the building like I almost did last time."  A piercing glance met Zenithe's eyes but it gave way in the end.  "Fine.  Go in but even an ounce o' trouble and yer out ya got it?"  Zenithe had waved dismissively again with a hidden smirk as he entered the club and sat at the bar, ordering one of everything since it had been nearly three weeks since he last ate.

The night had started passing into the later hours where most businesses were closing and the clubs and bars were getting most of their regulars and busiest hours.  Keeping his word to Jack, Zenithe had been sitting close to the open door where he still stood and keeping out of trouble, still smirking as he looked up every now and again to see construction workers repairing the remainder of the damaged roof.  Then something had caught his ear.  Jack was speaking to someone.  "Blimey mate, ya awlright?... Aw nai, Frankie's off t'night. Ya know Frankie?" His voice was quiet since he wasn't exactly standing right next to him and the music was loud, but still he could make out the short conversation.  Glancing towards Jack's location he could see a really interesting creature.  Not like any he had seen before that much was certain.  New and interesting things intrigued Zenithe for even though he was technically pushing 85 years of age and appearing as though he were 20, he was still a mere fledgling in a dragon's lifetime.  He had seen much in those years and yet still infinitely more to see.  Reaching into his pocket he pulled a few bills out... rather large bills mind you and paid his entire tab.  He began walking out of the club and past Jack as he watched this mysterious figure.  It moved swiftly and so quietly.  Jack called out to him as he had his back turned.  "Oi, Zenithe!  'Eaded out already?"  But Zenithe simply ignored him as he glanced over and noticed a brawl that had broken out.  'Well.... no reason I can't have a little fun tonight at least.' 

Sirens rang in the distance growing ever closer and Zenithe figured he could easily dispatch the fight well before anyone else showed up.  Swiftly and dexterously Zenithe sprinted towards the brawl.  Covering a good distance in a few mere seconds until he ran until the middle of the group.  It was roughly eight men in a punching frenzy that was soon to be ended.  Zenithe smirked behind his mask and his tail rose to his side.  It slammed one man in the side of his ribs sending him skidding across the sidewalk a few feet away.  One punch thrown in Zenithe's direction was easily dodged with finesse as the same motion carried through to a counter punch knocking the guy out.  He was having to restrain a vast portion of his strength less he ended up killing any of them and bringing a full blown crime investigation so close to the nightclub.  He figured Jack wouldn't appreciate the loss of business his boss might blame him for.  Another punch came towards Zenithe from the side but his tail grabbed the assailants wrist and snapped it with a twist before tossing him like a rag-doll into the brick wall of the building next to them.  three down and the others seemed to stop for a moment to gather what had just happened.  "Break it up.  Now."  Zenithe's voice was both forceful and bone-chilling.  They looked around at one another and then to the other men who had already been taken out of the fight.  They scattered and ran off in different directions.  As the sirens grew closer and he could see the lights coming from them now, Zenithe stepped back into the shadows of an alley before using his shadow jump to shift through the shadows onto the roof of the building.  His black clothing making him blend in well with the starless black sky.  It was from the rooftops that he decided to follow this creature and see where it would go, studying it all the way attempting to learn habits, movement patterns and abilities if any were shown.

[Warewolf]

"Hey who's that?" A pang of fear shot through Skye as his ears heard that phrase. He couldn't help himself and his head snapped to where he heard it from despite trying not to acknowledge the group that was fighting. Swearing he heard it, but also running the same words through his head, he wasn't sure if he should be confused or scared. Continuing to stare at the group however, Skye noticed a figure that was amongst the group. Slowing his walk, none of them were looking at him after all and it seems they were focused on the taller figure. Morbid curiosity overcame him and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the situation that was unfolding. A small tug on the hood of his sweatshirt pulled the fabric further forward and shaded his face from the deep orange street light. If anyone were to look his way, they would instantly notice him as any figure standing under a street light can be any sorts of creepy.

The dark figure full on sprinted into the center of the fight, quickly involving himself. Exhibiting agility, the figure swung a large appendage, that Skye would guess to be a tail, and with a heavy thud, one of the gangsters were sent flying. Reacting quickly one of the other thugs lunged hoping to get a piece of the prowler. Side stepping easily, it countered and the second thug was down. A third came from behind and not even flinching, the figure used its tail again to swiftly grab the fighter by the arm and tossing him aside like a toy. Continuing to spectate, Skye could understand how apprehensive the group had gotten with three of them thrown aside like trash. In the lull, he could hear from across the street a low voice, he presumed to be the taller one that interrupted the fight. It was short but it must have made a point as the group suddenly split and ran, lest the can of whoopass be brought upon them too.

His focus snapping to some sirens that approached quickly, Skye panicked as his mind quickly realized that he could be wrapped up in this mess if the cops were indeed on their way to this scene. Looking back to where the fight was, the tall figure had vanished. Head swiveling to look up and down the street, he mysterious figure was indeed gone. Red and blue flashing lights getting closer, he figured he should do the same. Reassuring his grip on his bag, Skye crouched. Lowering his personal gravity to be super light, he leaped high into the air and in another blink of an eye, he was gone. Out of the light of the street lamp, glowing eyes blinked a few times to adjust. Floating a few stories above the ground, he silently watched as the cops screeched to halt on the road and jumping out of their cruisers. Figuring not much else was going to happen and relieved he was safe after that mess, he looked up one last time to see if the tall figure was anywhere in the area. Eyes squinted to focus easier in the pitch dark that enveloped the area surrounding the street. A little disappointed he couldn't find anything, he remembered that he was tired and needed to head home. Silently floating away, Skye headed in a general south west direction.