Sang Sacré
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
History. Map.
The Shadows are quiet tonight. Like every year, slowing down towards midnight ... the chaos/order balance is held like a deep breath while all sides look elsewhere.
The wolf won't come by, nor any of her litter. The silence always makes me restive, but the empty Shadow is no place for that. Let it have its peace.
I step out onto a rooftop, looking down for the parade I know must be winding its way through the streets below.
I have enough time to duck.
Flying dogs are not quiet.
Got home just in time. I managed to intercept the first batch of trick-or-treaters just as they were ringing the bell. Sent them off with nummy treats instead of herring, and nobody's throwing stuff at my house.
Of course the bird is miffed by this. He's currently sulking underneath the sink with his candied herring. I tried to explain about little kids and herring, but he's being stubborn.
Meanwhile, I keep handing out treats. Man there are a lot of kids out tonight.
Huh, flying dog. "Hey! Get away from that forsythia bush. Skat!"
I'm walking to Hec's house, figuring I can suprise him, maybe take him out for a night of fun and adventure. I glance upwards, giving an acknowledging hoot to the Air Aquadron (it's that day again)...
... when I see a flying dog. Huh.
I head down to the lobby to check with the staff and see if the boys are having any trouble. Looks quiet. An Audrey Gang comes in, all dressed in Roman Holiday. I love the Audrey Gangs.
I go to take a peak down the street and check out the revels. Big Goth Ball in Blackwood Parish tonight. Dogtown will be hopping. I think Knut was going to be opening for Liese's band.
Hey, it's s.a.!
"My darling Hecubus!" I say when I see him. My eye was caught on a member of the Audrey Gang; her hair was mussed. It was wrong like a thing that is wrong.
But my attention falls back to the present, and I ask, "How are you? Feeling revellous tonight? I think I just made up a word, didn't I."
"Revellous and frumious! But I'm not in costume. However..."
I jingle my set of keys.
"I am the man with the keys. And guess what this one opens? The costume warehouse in the basement for the touring opera companies that stay here."
My eyes light up with possibility of lavish costuming. "Let's go! We can awe the public. Or at least look damn cool."
"Parfait!"
I nod at the O'Halloran Brothers who are doormen this evening.
"I'm off to get swanky boys. No Bushmills until after midnight, right?"
"This way, darling..." and I take s.a. by the arm.
I latch on to Hec and we stroll the streets, admiring the costumes people wear, calling hellos to the people we recognize, and pointing out the various decorations that this part of Blood has become known for. The walk is short, which is good because the wind has taken a turn for the colder and I'm shivering even in my wool peacoat. "What look do you want to go for?" I ask Hec ask he turns the key to the Gothic-style warehouse (with the gargoyles noticebly missing).
We're at the backside of the Folly, and huddle down in the stairwell to get out of the wind.
"Hmmm, well I'm seeing you in a ballgown with hoop skirts. I'll probably go for one of the vintage tuxes. There are costumes down here which are vintage from the 19th century."
I shoot the bolt free and get us inside and hit the lights.
s.a. looks stunned. It's about a mile across, and it's all costumes, all neatly arranged by style and era.
"What's your pleasure, treasure?"