Rhage 1.26.12

Dropping the last of the boxes on the floor, I leaned back, pushing the door shut with a soft click. I looked around the room, taking in the over the top decor and delicate furnishings. I took a deep breath, thinking most of the stuff would have to be replaced. I needed a sturdier bed, extra length. A television. A stereo.

I pushed away from the door with a sound of disgust and headed to the walk-in closet. The doggen had already unpacked my clothes but I grabbed the ceremonial robes and pushed them all the way to the back, leaving only my leathers and sweats within reach.

Satisfied with that, I turned my attention to the locked armored case. I unlocked it carefully and started packing the weapons away in the fireproof cabinet. I finished securing the firearms then picked up the box containing the black bladed daggers, opening it almost reverently. I ran a finger down the pristine blade, honed down to a lethal cutting edge. Motherfucking works of art, each one. And I knew Vishous worked on them until he felt they were perfect. Hell of a gift, that hand of his was. In more ways than one.

I shut the box and placed it carefully in the cabinet before locking it and heading out of the room to scare up some grub. As I walked down the hall, I noticed one of the doggen vacuuming, struggling to maneuver the machine around a dresser. Dashing forward to help, I lifted the dresser for him, I realized he was cleaning after me. I had tracked mud and dirt onto Darius’s fine expensive carpets. Feeling like an absolute shit, I made a note to be more careful.

Fuck. Living here was going to be hell.*