Saturday, February 27, 2010

*-~Custos Morum~-* Ch: 1

Author's Note: I'm picking up writing again (or attempting to) rofl


Custos Morum: Chatper 1


"Ah, it seems we have a guest," chimed a voice from just around the corner, its tone playful and pleasing to the ear, "I hope you have the money to stay here if that's what you're here for."


A man walked into the room from an open door and stood behind the counter. He had a simple white shirt, stained with juice. His belly stuck out a little bit from the bottom of the shirt he worse, muffin-topping a little past the waist of his blue jeans. He was balding, and the jolly face of his appeared to mark him in his mid-30s.


"Why yes, the name is Donovan Archer Summers," introduced the man who had entered this building. He wore a long coat that was buttoned closed, black slacks, and loafers. A rolling luggage bag sat beside him. It was a dull gray, thick, wide, and as tall as his leg.


From behind the counter, the other man wiped his hands on his shirt, staining it with oil. "My name's Ralf with an f. I don't want none of that Ral-p-huu with a P and a H." He laughed raucously, and Donovan leaned to the side to avoid a flying ball of spit. "I'm the owner of this establishment. I see myself as a pretty hip guy, down to earth, so don't mess with me and you'll be fine." He extended a hand out to his guest.


"It's a pleasure to meet you Ralf." Donovan said, exchanging handshakes with the jolly man with hidden disgust behind his face. "I think I can keep out of your way as long as you keep out of mine." He said jokingly, hoping he wouldn't have to interact with Ralf at any other time aside from checking out.


Ralf pulled out a clipboard that was missing the clip. To remedy this problem, he had previously stuck a tack through the papers in an attempt to safely secure them to the clipboard. He slid the clipboard to Donovan, dropping a pen almost daintily on top of the papers.


"There go fill that out." Ralf said


Donovan reached for the pen, his fingers feeling the oil on the handle.He scanned the sheets, filling out the pieces of information in a very professional manner. Within a few minutes, he finished the documents and slid the clipboard and pen back toward Ralf.


"Alright let's see what we have here." Ralf moved his finger down each line, leaving a faint trail of grease. "You're staying here for an indefinite amount of days?" He quirked a brow, almost cautious of Donovan. "What business you got here?"


"My wife's been on my ass the past month or so. I need to hide out and cool down " Donovan said coolly, putting up a very casual front. He had his own agenda he wanted to keep private. Ralf laughed at his response, nodding in agreement. He sloppily placed the clipboard back where he got it without even bothering to remove the papers.


Ralf took a set of keys hanging from the wall and tossed them toward Donovan. "Yer room's over on the third floor. Room 311."


Donovan nodded and began walking up the stairs.

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