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Could you put me up for the night?; Ryan and Izzy
Topic Started: Jul 24 2014, 11:36 PM (90 Views)
Ryan O'Reily
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Ryan had not been in Detroit long, when he decided to pay his ghoul a visit. He had sent her ahead of him to prepare, and she arranged a large wooden box for him to travel in. The cargo hold of the plane was noisy, but the Ventrue slept through it easily enough.

When his wheels landed he made a few calls, checking on his Sire's holdings if only briefly. He then flagged down a cab. He tossed his suitcase into the back seat, and climb in behind it. He was dressed what he considered casual, suit pants, and a vest. His tie and jacket likely tucked inside his bulky suitcase.

Ryan spoke to the driver. "The Prince Hotel." The driver quirked a brow at the thick brogue accent that the Ventrue simply could not mask. The driver made small talk as they drove into the night. Ryan smiled and nodded, laughing when appropriate, though he was hardly listening. His eyes were on the city. He surveyed the area curious what he might find in thihs new city. He would wait to hear what Izzy had learned before making any moves.

After some time the cab pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, Ryan generously tipped the driver, gathered his bag and climbed out. He gave a boyish grin to the young woman behind the desk, but continued toward Izzy's room. He gave a ryhthmic knock and waited for a reply.
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Isabelle Rousseau
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Childe
It'd been a very long day. Her flight left London in the early morning hours, when the sky was still dark and the fluorescent lights in the airport were blinding, and landed in Boston seven hours later. She'd spent the better part of her morning wasting away in terminals and connecting flights until finally, she was able to step outside and take her first breath of fresh, American air. It tasted promising, but with all the sight seeing on the ride to the hotel, that was short lived.

A knock on the door put her and the dog both on the defensive, but she quickly shook it off. She rolled off the stiff sofa she'd been sprawled out on and scratched Duke's ears as she drifted passed to the door. She didn't waste any time seeing who was on the side, and smiled warmly when she was met with Ryan's handsome mug, "Look who the cat drug in," she stood before him in grey shorts and a loose fitting black t-shirt, wrapped in a fuzzy blue throw blanket and her hair thrown up on top of her head in a messy bun, "Would you like to join the jet lag club? It's free admission. With complimentary wine and store bought cookies." She sounded tired, and looked it too. She beckoned him in and dragged herself back to the couch, the black Great Dane lumbering behind her and settling on the floor in front of where she lounged.

The suite itself was modestly decorated and furnished, not meant for long term stays, but she could work with it and make it more comfortable for the both of them in the next few days. "I was about to watch a movie, but I thought hearing what took you so long sounded more interesting." She smirked and pulled her knees to her chest. He was welcome to sit by her on the couch, or kick back in the recliner to her left.
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Ryan O'Reily
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Childe
Ryan lingered at the door when she opened it as though waiting for invitation, like a vampire in some cinematic fiction. In truth his eyes lingered on his ghoul. Normally it was pants suits and business dresses for the young woman, this evening however every inviting place the Ventrue would considered feeding from was on display.

The Ventrue followed her to the couch hardly giving the large dog a second thought. While he was fond of the beast, his prey was to tempting to resist. He sat down beside her his eyes her bare legs. "The trip? It was long as you mentioned, and I will tell you every last detail, but first, tell me you have more than cookies for me?" The brogue rolled off the Scots tongue like water as he spoke, his eyes and his beast hungrily waiting for a response.
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Isabelle Rousseau
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"I suppose you would be hungry, wouldn't you?" She asked wryly, sounding mildly annoyed by his insistence to change the subject. It was obvious she was tired, but tired was an understatement when there was a dog as big as her involved. It wasn't even the flight itself and the jet lag that was exhausting, it was customs, and being lead to believe that her dog did not in fact make it to Detroit with her, for oh, maybe an hour. Then finally getting Duke and all their luggage situated here, on top of the scouting she was supposed to do as well. Isabelle wasn't accustomed to feeling this scatterbrained, and it showed in her irritable gaze and slack smirk.

Reaching over to the coffee table, she snatched a thin pamphlet, a 'menu' of sorts she'd been given when she checked in, and handed it to Ryan, "I can order room service, or there's blood wine in the mini bar." She settled back into the nest of pillows behind her and rolled onto her side, the blanket tangled around her like a haphazard cocoon. "I guess it depends on how much you feel like dealing with people," she finished with a yawn.
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