Reckless & Relentless [Spencer]

Alas, it was time to leave. The method to his madness was to wait, and small amounts of people soon began to flee the scene the longer he stayed. Within seconds, tops, the lounge was empty, leaving him to his own silence. As he removed himself from behind the bar, he assisted himself in changing out of his uniform, which consisted of only a tie and some black pants. No shirt. The dress code was black, though showing some skin was allowed - and he was not one to hide what he was given, nor has he ever. Dunning a grey t-shirt and a red, lacrosse sweatshirt he had from high school, to what still fit surprisingly, he pulled on some dark jeans that fit close to his ankles, as well as the typical black sneakers he wore a lot of the time when walking home. A sigh flew out of him as he grabbed his stuff and cleaned the bar-tops, even if they were already polished from someone else, and moved out to the back door. Once locked, he rolled back his broad shoulders and relaxed so that he molded to a beautiful other body than that of his human skin. Flesh then was blanketed with fur, ivory, with ebony splotches across his frame and back, as well as cheeks and ears. His face elongated into a drooped snout, and no longer were his ears round and human-like, but triangularly shaped and at the top of his head, sticking out of his cranium. On all fours, his paws pressed to the cold, damp, alley floor and began to walk with an almost lazy stride, being that his structure was rather large and sluggish due to his enormous weight for a domestic. Around his neck, he wore proudly of a black and white knotted collar, with a charm in the number 11 on it - the same number he played as and wore to his games. Swinging his body into step, the large canine moved rather loudly through the twisting, obscure alleyways, but he tried his best of efforts to keep it at a minimum in the case of danger afoot. His long, thin tail hung at the sides of his hind legs, swaying with the way he strolled through the darkness. By the time he was at the attention of a red light, he was panting, and his muzzle was dripping unintentionally with saliva. The neighborhood smelt of drugs or similar substances and interesting fumes of lust and primal desires, to what he depicted were women. Perhaps the on going male pedestrians were in spite of finding a cheap one night stand with a delectable woman of his choice, he wondered, annoyed by the fact that such profane things were even existing in the world still.

The Great Dane developed an intimacy for the lonely walls to which he walked alongside of, minute by minutes passing as he finally found himself wandering closer to that of the lustful district. Hoary, aged men stood in a mutual area within the seemingly narrowed lanes leading inside the voided portion of the city. They found mild interest in the canine as he moved passed without the flick of his eyes on them, scenting the smoke to which they exhaled from their sinful smirked lips. One, however, refrained from even daring a glance at the dog, perhaps he had a fear of them. He could only roll his eyes, and never take another look back as he worked his way deeper beneath the enraged, fiery red light, to what made the colour of his optics a greyish pink. The scene alone held a partial, romantic theme to it, for it was dim, though lit in each window and the street lamps, to those that were working, stood decently alive alongside the sidewalks to keep the paths slightly clear. But the stench of desperate still reeked, which would've only worsened the 'mood' to find romance, so he thought, holding back a sneeze. Abstracted men roamed and floated along as they pleased, pausing from a far to admire the women displayed in the windows set evenly apart from each other model. All in all, the district was mostly empty, leaving him the ability to concur what he wished as a creature in canine form. Passing by one of the windows, he stopped to look, but not for long as he moved onto the next. Some of the women shrieked with joy at the site of a lonely dog, perhaps thinking it was a stray with a collar to it's rightful owner. These screams only would startle the Dane to quicken his step and tuck his tears until it was safe again to keep walking. He stuck his head around a corner to the district, ducking inside to shift quickly and stroll out as a human. Hood flipped over his hair, Nikolai kept his head down and made comfort on a near by metal bench, it was probably the only useful thing here, other than the view. Though he grew from a religious family, he still found the time to pleasure a woman despite marriage - but even then, she would be respected of her privacy, though if wished for lust, he'd simply grant it. With all the commotion and anxiety rising from his primal form, he gave in to the taste of a cigarette. He reached for his lighter and cupped the stick with his hand, bringing the other up so that he switched on the flame for the tip to burn and be breathed into his lungs. At first inhale, he took it out, held in his breath for a moment, and slowly allowed it to ease from his mouth into the open air. The smoke twisted and turned as it rose into the atmosphere above his head, soon to then fade the further it flew from him. He couldn't give a care in the damn world at the moment.

Spencer had been walking for a while, and as he lumbered along he had found himself along the Red Light District. The smells were a bit overwhelming, as he wasn’t used to having to smell so much lust, and anticipation. He could smell the stale sweat of the gentlemen in line, and their anxiousness was almost nauseating. Spencer’s nose wrinkled as he peered out from under his hood. Nothing but the lower part of his face could be seen from under his hood which was why he chose to wear it. He had a small beard growing, as he preferred facial hair look on himself, over the clean cut look. He was clad in a plaid shirt, unbuttoned at the top exposing the skin of his chest underneath, a hoodie, and a black leather jacket. His pants were tight jeans that fell loosely around his waist, and even though he wore a belt, it did very little to keep his boxers from being seen if he leaned over. Last but not least, his shoes were just a generic skater shoe brand. His mouth, which had once been a thin line, was now drawn back in a sneer. As he crossed the street, he looked out at the windows that the women were shown in. None of it appealed to him in the slightest, he was not that type of guy.

While he had his fun, it was not with someone as, loose as a prostitute. He liked the chase, and there was no chase to be had with easy game. As he passed a window a movement caught his eyes as one of the women motioned for him with her index finger. He grunted, almost mockingly before shaking his head. He found it sad that they had chosen to live a life pleasing men that were undeserving. He tore his eyes from the glass, and stared at the sidewalk. He walked over each slab that was evenly placed for the sidewalk. He could hear the laughter and shrill cries of excitement from a lady and he turned to spot a dog hurrying along. The animal did not seem happy, and Spencer could not blame him. Spencer sped up, as he was not interested in the possibility of being followed by a stray dog. He turned the corner, disappearing into the shadow of a fire escape from the building above. He waited, hearing the dog’s movements growing closer, and then it just disappeared. Perhaps the dog had turned a ways back; he shrugged before pulling out a cigarette.

With a quick strike of the lighter, and the help of his hand to shield it from the wind, it was lit. He inhaled, exhaling through his nose as a man rounded the corner. The man had not sensed his presence, and, if he was human, that did not surprise Spencer. He flicked the ashes from the tip of his cigarette as he used his free hand to pull his jeans up which were now just barely hugging the tops of his hips. He moved out of the shadows to step up, leaning against a street light. He was contemplating what to do next when he smelt what seemed to be anxiousness coming from the male on the bench. “Something bothering you?” His low, gruff voice now shattering the silence as he spoke. The only movement was him reaching up to take a drag of his cigarette. The hood was still covering his face as he peered over his shoulder at the male. The scent was familiar to the scent he had smelt from the dog which had been hurrying along a ways behind him. Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Why were you hurrying along like that? If you didn’t like the noise, why come this way?” With that said, Spencer dropped his cig on the ground before crushing it under his foot to ensure the cherry of the cigarette was put out.

The Inu's mind began to replenish with various things as the time grew to a slower state the longer he took in savouring each inhale of the beloved, yet subtle, drug. He imagined what it was like in this district during the daylight hours, to what he assumed would be dead, perhaps, but grew weary of the fact that he could be wrong and even the most begging of men chose to stay for another hour. With a flick of his ash, he pulled his sleeves up his arms so that they exposed flesh and stayed curled at the joint in his elbows. His veiny, toned lean arms remained aloft both his upper thighs, his body hunched as though he had been waiting for someone or something for quite some time. However, t'was none of those reasons, he simply was enjoying the scenery and amusement of all the deceiving lives amongst the narrow paths to what was accompanied with the displays of lust and tempt. The idea alone settling at the back of his mind made his lip slightly curl in great disgust, a soft, displeasing grunt voicing deep towards the bottom of his windpipes, to what never found the need to speak through his clenched jaw. Stormy, tired eyes, squinted at the sight of a flickering streetlamp, his hand reaching up so that it rubbed over a portion of his face to what covered a single eye as a small yawn wedged it's way through to the broken air. His canines sharpened at the action, though by default, as he did not figure anyone to near enough to see him in the dim glow of moonlight and the red windows' glimmer. A deep, dog like yowl whispered outwards as the yawn deepened and soon closed, his teeth turning to normal as his lips molded back over them, like as if nothing had happened. To as soon as he had thought the lines to fade, Nikolai began to relaxed, though was suddenly interrupted by a strange, foreign fragrance. His nose twitched, and beneath his hood, his eyes flitted secretly back in forth to find the source, though no such thing lurked asides the shadow along the walls. The dane withheld a growl and leaned a bit more in his seat, cigarette placed between his lips at the side of his mouth while his one arm reached back to rest against the back of the strangely comfortable, metal park bench. When the creature finally revealed itself, all to what he could see was the man's human form, though the canine had smelt many humans in his day, and this man, was not one of them, he was sure of. But his demeanor gave away no worry nor disbelief to his presence, no matter the case, he would never show fear unless he knew that danger was truly amongst him. "Just another day in paradise if you ask me." Nikolai smirked, his tone widely filled with sarcasm as he took another hit, his eyes glistened in the littlest glare of light left from the street lamp nearest to the stranger.

Head tilted back, his lips formed an 'O', like as if he were about to sing into the night with a lovely, deep and off-tuned howl, though instead, all to what eased from his mouth was a puff of smoke molded around the single, round letter. When it had seemed the stick was no longer good to him, he carelessly pressed it into the metal bench until it was no longer burning, only to then flick it off elsewhere before his eyes turned back to the traveler. So he had been followed, the dane thought quietly to himself, his grin phasing to a grim, defined smile, one sharper than a two edged sword. "It's not entirely the noise to what bothers me.. actually. But being pet by a bunch of crumby strangers who only sweat lust and desperate need of attention are not the type of crowds I want scratching behind my ear." Balling his fingers into a tiny fist, he applied pressure to his jaw so that it slowly turned to the side, all the while pressing harder until the bones and ligaments in his neck created a popping sensation, much like before. With a slow, reasonably displayed move, Nikolai hesitantly removed the hood and rolled his neck back as his long, triangularly pointed ears unfolded from the curls of his hair. His tail, however, did not remain in tact with his spine, but did spring out to be pressed inside his sweatshirt. Lifting the material up, the thin, long appendage sprang joyfully free and wagged behind him. Nikolai did not normally show his 'special traits' in public, though it was too dark to notice from where they were, and the human men and modeled women were too focused on lingering one another's attention to even spare a look in the Inu's direction. "So you followed me..-" His eyes phased to an almost brighter grey, silvery and moon-like as they rolled over the man's form. The stranger was bigger in comparison, both by height and bulk, but only a few inches off according to how tall they were, he assumed, being that he was sitting. His hand moved slightly closer to his side, nodding his head to the empty spot on the bench so that the man be free to sit if he so wished, "-why? Oh.. and before I forget. The Inu offered a hand, a common gesture shared amongst those who greeted one another in mutual respects. His ears narrowed to the higher other, being that he was not Mora, so he was of a stronger race, more so than him, which slightly made him feel fearful of, but kept it hidden so that they were free as equals. "I'm Nikolai McCall, by the way.." The man answered, shaking his hand firmly if granted before settling it back down in the depths of his hoodie's pockets.