Blake an Maia walk up to his master Muttons shop. Now that he was no longer distracted he was thinking again, and it still concerned him how his master had reacted the other day when it came to leaving. Blake was unable to open the door, looking through the window he could see that the lock and bolt were both tightly in place. He was never given a key, but he knows how to get inside without one. He turned to Maia and kissed her on the cheek. "Wait here a minute okay?" He saw a flyer on a post near by, but didnt stop to read it as he then turned and leaped up grabbing hold of the sign above the door. Using it to swing up higher to grab the second floor window sill. He then climbed up to the roof of the two story building.
Once atop he found the small attack hatch that allowed access to the roof from the inside and he pulled his small spider out of his vest pocket. "Alright, open up." The spider layed flat and its legs shifted together to form a long key shape. Blake used it to open the hatch and climb in. He couldnt find his master anywhere inside and made his way to the front door, unlocking and opening it for Maia. "Im not sure where master could be. He doesnt often leave his shop, especially at this time of day."
Desour is my Queen
Doctor Jon Woodlight
Morning was not exactly the moment of the day that Jon enjoyed most. Not as a vampire, in the least, when he even stopped sleeping, rather suspending all of his body functions as in a controlled state of complete hibernation. In the past he studied how the process occurred to Laura, he followed her slowly freezing in the vampiric equivalent of sleep. That stiffening everlasting stillness was the closest state to immortality that Jon was aware of. Centuries might pass and Laura would still awake, as young and beautiful as she had been the day she died, and so would him too.
Regardless of his observations and experiments, Jon had not yet understood whether it was the surging heat from sunlight that triggered the vampiric sleep, or whether it was something deeper, associated to the deepest layers of the mind. Something that those curious fellows from England would term as "inherited from the primeval ancestors", according to their new theories of how human beings had come to existence. They were but shaky speculations, probably born in the shade of one too many glasses of wine and exotic collections, yet the appealing call that mankind could have evolved from past entities, rooting back to the most base and demonic of forms, could not be ignored.
In the cold darkness of his hibernation room, Jon let go of the silk vest he used to wear and began examining the possible clothing for the day. Behind him, Laura, his beautiful Laura, laid still, in a state that could not be called sleep, but, rather, death. A white shirt with golden buttons, covered by a crimson vest with old germanic patterns, made his upper half. Cotton underwear from the colonies, topped by a pair of straight black trousers in the fashion of Wilcessex, latest trend in the capital, completed the bottom. Jon tied a black bowtie around his neck and threw a short cape over his shoulders. He would need much more than that where he was going, but, for the indoor, it was going to suffice.
"I will be back." he whispered to the dead body and, after crossing the entire house wearing his daylight attire, he lowered the mask upon his face and left by the main door.