Daylight was traditionally downtime for the supernatural for primal and practical reasons, not the least of which being that it was easier to conceal oneself in the dark and less humans were around to witness...or were easier to off in the dark in smaller numbers. Vampires favored it too, and the court tended to set their watches by them as they were most influential within its power structures, having eternal-ish life and the inclination to play politics.
So no one really expected the Herald of Nemsemet to show up at Sally's Diner, off Allard Park, a place that harkened back to the 1950's ideal of a diner, down to the servers who had up-done buns and horn-rimmed glasses. Sally, perhaps as a self-defensive measure to lessen the impact of her own powers which were volatile, tended to hide in baggy work attire and affect the same look when she was running her business. One almost expected bees to come out of the hair, and inevitably they were all dressed in the tackiest clash of colors though possible, perhaps as an homage to New Camden's working class culture.
Late morning brunch was underway, but it was mostly a supernatural crowd in Sally's, because it took a supernatural metabolism to handle the sweets. It was also notable that certain places, ever since Nemsemet started making his waves, seemed to ward off humans, though the few that were around were complaining of nightmares and planning to stay more indoors than ever. A few raving types, possibly from drink, drugs or mental illness, warned of more dire things, but there were still humans in the place, getting in their saturday morning hangover brunch in the form of various incarnations of eggs, bacon and hash browns, or other trimmings.
That was, until a bunch of them fell asleep, face-in-plates. A few people had to have their heads turned by the ones left standing who were, as far as Rusty could tell, supernaturals. The place had a high level of patronage after all.
A boyish figure strutted in, goat-hair legs and hooves, but decked out in a cheesy sort of Egyptian regalia, including a big old pharaohnic hood and some sort of chestpiece with a bird and feathers, in what looked to be some sort of fake gold. It was practically a halloween costume, but it worked like a herald's banner to let one know whom the satyr spoke for.
"The dread lord Nemsemet wishes to announce that the rule of the Court is hereby absolved. His rule is law and eternal. All who swear loyalty will be allowed to go about their business, but must stand ready to do the Eternal Lord's bidding..."
So no one really expected the Herald of Nemsemet to show up at Sally's Diner, off Allard Park, a place that harkened back to the 1950's ideal of a diner, down to the servers who had up-done buns and horn-rimmed glasses. Sally, perhaps as a self-defensive measure to lessen the impact of her own powers which were volatile, tended to hide in baggy work attire and affect the same look when she was running her business. One almost expected bees to come out of the hair, and inevitably they were all dressed in the tackiest clash of colors though possible, perhaps as an homage to New Camden's working class culture.
Late morning brunch was underway, but it was mostly a supernatural crowd in Sally's, because it took a supernatural metabolism to handle the sweets. It was also notable that certain places, ever since Nemsemet started making his waves, seemed to ward off humans, though the few that were around were complaining of nightmares and planning to stay more indoors than ever. A few raving types, possibly from drink, drugs or mental illness, warned of more dire things, but there were still humans in the place, getting in their saturday morning hangover brunch in the form of various incarnations of eggs, bacon and hash browns, or other trimmings.
That was, until a bunch of them fell asleep, face-in-plates. A few people had to have their heads turned by the ones left standing who were, as far as Rusty could tell, supernaturals. The place had a high level of patronage after all.
A boyish figure strutted in, goat-hair legs and hooves, but decked out in a cheesy sort of Egyptian regalia, including a big old pharaohnic hood and some sort of chestpiece with a bird and feathers, in what looked to be some sort of fake gold. It was practically a halloween costume, but it worked like a herald's banner to let one know whom the satyr spoke for.
"The dread lord Nemsemet wishes to announce that the rule of the Court is hereby absolved. His rule is law and eternal. All who swear loyalty will be allowed to go about their business, but must stand ready to do the Eternal Lord's bidding..."
