Now that I'm Here... (attn Carol)

Sewage wasn't one of Dayle's favorite substances. Thankfully, the entrance to the Domicile was a bit cleaner than she'd expected. Though, she reflected, when her phone contact had described the way in, there had been a strange amused quality to his voice.

So it was here, at the ninth junction beneath the slaughterhouses of Nachton, that she stood looking at a heavily fortified door. Focusing for a few moments, she detected nothing out of the ordinary... She'd been hoping to sense cameras or people on the other side of the door... Something more than the steady flows of the sewers, the thrum-whoosh of ventilation, the rare pitter of pattering vermin.

Straightening her blouse and light jacket, she walked into the center of the cubby holding the door, standing a bit more than arm's length from it. She reached slowly into her purse, and pulled out a letter, stamped and sealed, and her identification. Holding them up just at her shoulders, she spoke clearly, "Dayle Yolgrave requesting admission."

The door swung open after a few moments and she was hustled inside by a pair of guards. After they frisked her and upended her (thankfully nearly empty) purse, she was escorted by a third to an elevator.

There was no music as the levels counted down They were silent; Dayle stood in the corner while the tall, burly black man - probably a vampire - stared at her. It wasn't until the elevator came to a stop and Dayle stepped out that he asked,

"Why didn't you take the elevator from the street level?"

Dayle gaped at him as the door slid closed. He spoke again as they shut, "Someone will meet you here. Sit."

Dayle turned about and saw she was in a waiting room or lobby. The only thing her eyes took in was a grouping of chairs; she went and sat down in one, huffing her embarassment, beating her palm against her forehead.

Now she knew why her contact had sounded so amused when he'd described the sewer entrance.