This Isn't Boardwalk

==Info==
This thread is currently ongoing.
==Starring==
* Delilah Amelia Dmitriev
==Notes==
None
==This Isn't Boardwalk==
Delilah Dmitriev
Delilah checked her watch. Half past 8. No big deal, her brother was usually late, but with each new minute passing by, anxiety threatened to set in. This was not their sweet haven of Aurora- population: Pack. This was new territory; and it concerned her that she was so openly waiting, for what was becoming an hour. She could take care of herself- she always had. She had a scar on her back to prove that she could handle bigger enemies. The only reason she had the scar was because she trusted a man enough to turn her back on them. Since, she hadn’t been interested in men- in any one really but it made her wonder, she never really liked him… she liked him because everyone was happy for her when they started going out, saying they would keep a pure and old bloodline. Some people may find that a bit odd, like a human couple’s family and friends talking about how cute their babies would be- but these were different words in different contexts.
Her family’s blood traced back nearly a thousand years in Russia, here no one knew her name, no one she had run into had known her family but she liked it better that way. She could make her own impression on them and she could really be whoever she wanted. That was something she could never be in Aurora.
A woman released a ear splitting laugh, Delilah shot a glance over in the direction- it sounded more like a yelp of pain. The woman draped in flamboyant clothing and a feathery pink boa covered her mouth as she gripped her companion’s large arm. Delilah averted her eyes. The culture here was so different. She took a few steps back and leaned against the stone of the building behind her, night was settling in, and the flocks of people were thinning as they found their seats and hot spots. She crossed her arms; trying to recall why Anton had even suggested they split up. Delilah had said she wanted to get some dinner… and Anton said he needed to do something first- wouldn’t take long- be back soon- 20 minutes max- meet you over by that French place.
”I hate French food,” she groaned to herself as she rested her head against the stone. There was a light drizzle that had been off and on during the day, but the night was fore casted to be clear and cool. At least she wouldn’t be soaking while she waited for her now- 30 minutes past due brother. Anton could take care of himself, she wasn’t worried about that she was more curious as to what he was doing; they were here for one reason, that reason being this was said to be the hotspot for the rebellion that was whispered so much about- perhaps he had finally caught a scent, found an in… something that sure was taking a while.
Before long she got restless; the smell of “That French Place” was becoming increasingly strong with the demand of dinner rising. So she turned left and strolled- a few feet away from the meeting spot wouldn’t throw him too much off, arms crossed she walked down a surprisingly well lit alley way, yet she figured the dynamics of the city life would shift drastically in the dark and she was curious as to what she would find when the lights went off.