Information

Sublunarie
Legacy Name: Sublunarie

The Blacklight Montre
Owner: Asuwelt

Age: 13 years, 8 months, 1 day

Born: September 11th, 2010

Adopted: 13 years, 8 months, 1 day ago

Adopted: September 11th, 2010

Statistics

• Level: 15
   
• Strength: 32
   
• Defense: 26
   
• Speed: 30
   
• Health: 26
   
• HP: 26/26
   
• Intelligence: 36
   
• Books Read: 36
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Store Clerk

It rained heavily in the city, all the time. Gave it a wet dog smell, ya know? But it was something to love and get used to because that's what she had to give ya, nothing more nothing less and she didn't lie. The city danced and beamed the same every night. Allister Sebastian knew that and never asked more from her, or at least tried not to. Some nights were harder than others, when customers were loud, or rough, or he felt like he had more in common with the local sewer rat. Those nights were bad and he would beg quietly to himself after the makeup had come off and the glitter had been collected in a wet towel. When he'd come out, six inches shorter than when he was on stage, and sit in the chair where he'd get the heaviest glace and gaze, fingers curled around a jack and coke, wondering what it was like to have that much power with money. What it was like to have money at all. And then he would get up, pour our the nearly full drink, slip on a jacket, and leave. And he would just as quietly apologise, because he knew it wasn't her fault. She was just trying to be the best city she could, she had no control over the scum that entered her.

It was the nights that would get so bad he couldn't blame her and only himself that would bring him out into the rain like tonight, glow stick in one had, a fag in the other. Where he would hum along with the heavy beat of his partners' music choices and pretend that he was one of the steps. And maybe someone would step on him, maybe he could bleed to death behind the bouncer and just become part of the sticky alleyways. Tonight wasn't one of those nights. It was the muddy black boots that caught his attention. There isn't much dirt around these parts, he though, maybe they're from out of town. Good place to show up of course, nothing a little glow in the dark paint and a G-string couldn't fix when you're homesick. He looked up at his potential future customer, flashing the best smile he could muster. And stopped. The glance he got back took the air from his lips and put it hard and thick between his ribs. The dead, silver eyes that stared back at him, brighter than any stage light, gave him a chance to stop and think without throwing on a persona.

And just the thought of that let his smile become genuine. Not from his lips, lips that would fake talk and gab to thousands of strangers day in and day out, but one from the eyes, that gave his soul a little song to hold on to.

This was a man who understood the rain.

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