Post by Sabrina Findlay on May 4, 2021 22:16:57 GMT -5 |
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Post by Dorian Blackwell on May 4, 2021 23:39:52 GMT -5
Well, he was getting somewhere. Over the years, Dorian's victims had gotten smart. They had to if they'd out loop-holed a demon and banished him to another plane. That is...until he showed up over two hundred years ago and unintentionally freed him. The Blights were certainly proving to be no easy target, and as the family line grew, and moved through the centuries, they'd learned to change their names so it would make his life harder. And after the nineteenth century? It was like they knew he was coming. Whether a sixth sense or a being drawn to them by their shared abilities, they'd ran and they ran hard. Not staying put for very long.
Unfortunate for them, if he could so much as get a piece of any of them; whether a hair, fingernail, saliva, something they owned... He could track them. He was a witch before he was a warlock. Azazel had merely given him an extra boost against his unwanted patrons. It was all coming to an end though. Soon, very soon it would all be over, and he could find Tobias. Be reunited with his brother once more. Finally, live the life he wanted. He was so close... If Azazel was right, there were only two more Blights in this world. One, Dorian had caught a trail on in Chicago. He had to be sure first though, and the drive had been long, and now he was ready for a nice cold beer, and a good night's sleep at a hotel.
He was dressed in his usual attire. Jeans, a t-shirt, zip-up hoody, and a ball cap hanging low on his brow. Blending in as much as he could. Trying not to stand out unlike some people at the bar. His tall frame made it easier for him to navigate the crowd by mere presence alone. People tended to get out his way first before he so much as blinked.
He made it up to the bar, taking the only seat available that was between a woman and another man. Knowing he wasn't going to stay too long, Dorian didn't mind sliding up onto the stool, and after the bartender came back reached up to tap the bill of his cap up a bit on his forehead so the man could see him better. "Beer, please." He requested. Reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
Unfortunate for them, if he could so much as get a piece of any of them; whether a hair, fingernail, saliva, something they owned... He could track them. He was a witch before he was a warlock. Azazel had merely given him an extra boost against his unwanted patrons. It was all coming to an end though. Soon, very soon it would all be over, and he could find Tobias. Be reunited with his brother once more. Finally, live the life he wanted. He was so close... If Azazel was right, there were only two more Blights in this world. One, Dorian had caught a trail on in Chicago. He had to be sure first though, and the drive had been long, and now he was ready for a nice cold beer, and a good night's sleep at a hotel.
He was dressed in his usual attire. Jeans, a t-shirt, zip-up hoody, and a ball cap hanging low on his brow. Blending in as much as he could. Trying not to stand out unlike some people at the bar. His tall frame made it easier for him to navigate the crowd by mere presence alone. People tended to get out his way first before he so much as blinked.
He made it up to the bar, taking the only seat available that was between a woman and another man. Knowing he wasn't going to stay too long, Dorian didn't mind sliding up onto the stool, and after the bartender came back reached up to tap the bill of his cap up a bit on his forehead so the man could see him better. "Beer, please." He requested. Reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.