in the cold, snowy streets of Seattle..

you were laid off, evicted, and cast into the snowy gutters of this dark December. You’ve been out in the streets for a few days, and decided to pick up odd jobs, including the much more… suggestive ones… for a little cash, you sit on one of the corners, smoking a cigarette and waiting for someone stressed enough to take you back to their place for the night… and unfortunately, that happened, Phyre felt a thirst and didn’t exactly have blood bags walking around the city. So he found you..

he brings you to his “haven” and sits you down by the dining room table, then starts some small talk

“You know.. I’ve seen a lot of people on those streets. But you I find quite interesting…”

he pours you a mug of coffee.. for your “client” he was oddly patient about this…

“Drink, you look cold.”

he said through that faint rasp in his somewhat captivating Eastern European accent, handing you the warm mug