Really, Johan hasn't been gone that long. Months, maybe. Ostensibly, not much should have changed. But it's different enough to have an unfamiliar feeling. Different people. A different tension underlying things.
There was always tension, mind. Invariably, as part of the human condition. But the energy of that tension was palpably different now.
It just so happens that the reason for it is partially attributable to vampires.
It's interesting to be back, though. He makes his way between the attractions, his clawed hands with their dark paw-like pads as unremarkable here as any human feature on earth. There's a certain nostalgia to it: the idea of 'coming back.' Returning to what once was. But right now, nothing Johan does or did before is really doable at the moment. As a conman and shill, he's really only needed under specific circumstances. And instead of giving him much-needed rest, or a chance to engage in his personal hobbies or pursue private interests, for Johan it's just... well.
He stops, standing underneath the ferris wheel, and closes his eyes. He can hear, in the absence of vision, the mechanical fluctuations of its moving parts, the footsteps of people and voices of more, paper rustling and wind by his ear. He can smell popcorn, frying food, grass, earth, metal, ether.
But when he opens his eyes, he's standing directly in someone's way. A rueful smile crosses his lion’s muzzle--polite, but apologetic.
Johan Liebert | Monster (Veteran)
A. Break Time!
Really, Johan hasn't been gone that long. Months, maybe. Ostensibly, not much should have changed. But it's different enough to have an unfamiliar feeling. Different people. A different tension underlying things.
There was always tension, mind. Invariably, as part of the human condition. But the energy of that tension was palpably different now.
It just so happens that the reason for it is partially attributable to vampires.
It's interesting to be back, though. He makes his way between the attractions, his clawed hands with their dark paw-like pads as unremarkable here as any human feature on earth. There's a certain nostalgia to it: the idea of 'coming back.' Returning to what once was. But right now, nothing Johan does or did before is really doable at the moment. As a conman and shill, he's really only needed under specific circumstances. And instead of giving him much-needed rest, or a chance to engage in his personal hobbies or pursue private interests, for Johan it's just... well.
He stops, standing underneath the ferris wheel, and closes his eyes. He can hear, in the absence of vision, the mechanical fluctuations of its moving parts, the footsteps of people and voices of more, paper rustling and wind by his ear. He can smell popcorn, frying food, grass, earth, metal, ether.
But when he opens his eyes, he's standing directly in someone's way. A rueful smile crosses his lion’s muzzle--polite, but apologetic.
“Oh, sorry.”