<div style="background:#232323;
border:1px solid grey;
box-shadow: 2px 2px 2px grey;
height:530px;
Max-width:500px;
border-bottom: 10px solid #ff4500;
margin:auto;"><div style="background:url('https://qph.fs.quoracdn.net/main-qimg-092aeee31f7d71d03d10277b872a39bb');
background-size:100%;
background-position: 50% 80%;
height:110px;
Max-width:500px;
margin:auto;
border-bottom: 12px solid #ff4500;"><br/>
<br/>
<div style="margin:auto;
margin-left:100px;
margin-top: -50px;
text-shadow:2px 2px 2px black;
font-size: 23px;
font-style: Italic;
font-weight: bold;
text-align: center;
letter-spacing: 3px;
color: #fff;
font-family: Marcellus;"><br/>
AKIRA FLORES<br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px">VAMPIR</span></div><div style="background:url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/83/82/89/83828912c54e0012a00b169ad3360116.jpg);
height:120px;
width:120px;
border-radius:50%;
margin:auto;
margin-left: 50px;
margin-top: -60px;
border: 3px solid #ff4500;
background-size: 100%;
font-size: 0px;
background-size: 120%;
background-position: 50% 2%;">image</div></div><div style="margin:auto;
margin-left:38%;
margin-top: -15px;
font-size: 12px;
font-family: Marcellus;"><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#000"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="HOME → THEATRE"><i class="fa-map-marker"></i>LOCATION</abbr> |  <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="NPCs | EDMUND"><i class="fa-comment"></i>INTERACTION</abbr> |  <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="N/A"><i class="fa-comments"></i>MENTIONS</abbr></span></b></div><div style="margin: auto;
margin-top: 40px;
height: 350px;
Max-width: 420px;
overflow: hidden;"><div style="height: 350px;
Max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 10px;
padding-right: 10px;
overflow-y: scroll;
font-size: 12px;
color: white;
font-family:
Marcellius;
text-align: justify;">110 years old and he could not seem to find where on earth he had placed his journal. Perhaps he was getting old. But, really, what was <i>old</i> for a vampire? He was still called a young many by many others amongst his species and dealt with far fewer issues than the lot of them despite his temporary forgetfulness. It was not a cute quirk in the least. It was only increasingly stressful and frustrating as a whole. More so when it involved matters involving his work, work that was scheduled with the utmost importance that very day.<br/>
<br/>
Akira search through his mess of a desk, clearing old and crumpled paper along with bottles of ink and chipped mugs. This was why they said a clean space, was a good space. But when it came to writing he was too immersed in his own work to pay any heed to the messes he created around him. And if his writing never gained any popularity, then he would have his desk to look back at to confirm that he was - is a writer. <br/>
<br/>
Lo and behold, digging through his mess, Akira finally found the old notebook buried under several other books. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across as he hold the book close to his chest and pulled it away only through the tea-stained pages (courtesy of his clumsy hands). Everything was as it should be, but he focused more on the last pages listing the date of his appointments with Edmund and the notes he had written down during or after. Small little lines such as; <i>add more character exposition, don’t sass in your head he can and does read that, rewrite notes on laptop, what is his smell, booze?, buy more ink, and it is rum, rum, sage flowers, leather, and dates. </i><br/>
<br/>
All important things, obviously. He plucked his pen from his desk and quickly scribbled down another note. <i>He doesn’t eat at mealtime during work.</i> And quickly after, <i>buy dinner</i>. With his final notes for the moment entered, he shut his notebook and slid it into his felt and leather messenger bag. He was going to be late for his own meeting if he didn’t walk out any time soon.<br/>
<br/>
As quickly as possible, he fixed his makeup and pulled his hair back into a single low hanging ponytail, letting just a few strands fall out to frame his face. Once his sweater was on and his bag over his shoulders, he briskly walked into the living room and pulled out his umbrella from the holder in the foyer. He heard it was to rain a little today.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500"><i class="fa fa-feather-alt faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-feather-alt faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-feather-alt faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-feather-alt faa-pulse"></i></span>​</div><br/>
It was going to storm. Akira did not have to be merfolk to know that. The gloomy pattern of the clouds and the ever-increasing pace of the drizzle that turned more and more into a rain told him that much. Whoever the weather forecaster was for the news channel needed to be reviewed, they had too many resources to get this wrong. A storm was just begging to follow after this act and Akira wondered if he would be able to get home before then or how bad it would be.<br/>
<br/>
Luckily, the Silver Blood had brought his best umbrella. It may have been childish, but it was his favorite umbrella. All that was thanks to the <i>Starry Night</i> art on the inside while the outside was a midnight blue. He reached his hand outside the umbrella to catch a few raindrops with his free hand. Cold and wet, something he did not particularly mind compared to the dry and hot summer heat. This season was his favorite. <br/>
<br/>
He only pulled back said to check his phone. His keen hearing allowed him to hear the familiar ding over the pitter-pattering of the rain he stood in. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff7440"><i> Are we still meeting tonight to discuss your manuscript?</i></span> Edmund. Akira hummed softly to himself as he quickly typed out a reply. <br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500"><i>I wouldn’t miss it for the world.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
No. No. That was far too enthusiastic for a work-related meeting.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500"><i>Yes. </i></span><br/>
<br/>
Very eloquent, very elegant. Akira clicked his tongue. Overthinking a text message with a yes or no answer is needed. He needed to return his Masters’s degree in English. It was a mystery how had ever achieved it, to begin with.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500"><i> Yessir ;)</i></span><br/>
<br/>
No, perhaps he should -<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff7440">“Here you are, sorry for the wait!”</span> The new voice startled him out of his ridiculously convoluted thoughts. <br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500">“Oh, thank you. It smells delicious,” </span> Akira grinned at the food vendor. <br/>
<br/>
He had known them for some while and it was the closest thing to home food that he could get in the city, aside from his own cooking, of course. It was not super fancy nor made with poor quality ingredients, so, he knew Edmund could eat it.  It was French cuisine. As much as he would have liked to show off his chopstick using skills, his favorite Japanese place was too far and he was running thin on time.<br/>
<br/>
As he reached from the paper bag, he remembered his hands were full. He stopped to look back at his phone and was stared back at the stupid smiley face message that had been sent. Damn. Don’t think about it, Akira. He shoved his cellphone back into his pocket, grabbed his food, and continued on his way, holding his umbrella high and chewing on the corner of his lip. <br/>
<br/>
He was just a few blocks away from the theatre. He could have taken the bus or a cab, but he didn’t mind the rain or cold weather. It did wonders to cool off his head and focus his thoughts and the discussion of his book for the day. Within just a few months they had made a lot of progress and he was more than a little excited to share his project made with Edmund’s help to anyone and everyone. <br/>
<br/>
So, by the time he was walking through the glass doors of the theatre, his hands and face were cold, almost numb, but his spirit had raised. And he was no longer double-thinking small, mostly meaningless, text messages. <br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff7440">“Oh, hi, Akira,”</span> a stage crew member of who he vaguely knew the name to be Marika greeted him as he was closing his umbrella. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff7440">“Mr. Fisher is in the house.”</span> she gestured to the auditorium doors. Seeing how she was in a rush, she didn’t wait to say anymore and swiftly left to God only knows where.<br/>
<br/>
Akira slowly walked through the doors and down the stairs. There were far too many seats and he was used to meeting in his office. But he was soon able to find him, his blond hair peaking over the velvet seats. The moment he spotted him, he quickened his pace, only slowing his pace as he approached him. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500">“I hope I’m not late.”</span> He whispered, unsure if it was even proper etiquette to raise his voice in the room and far too uncomfortable to do so in a room full of people he didn’t know. Was it peculiar? A little, he had been a popular singer years ago after all. <br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500">“I know you don't ear, so, I brought you lunch,”</span> he raised the bag to prove his point and grinned. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4500">"You can think me later.}</span><br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center">「 <a class="username" data-user-id="9086" data-username="Jenamos" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9086/">Jenamos</a> 」​</div></div></div></div>