17:06
Matchsticks looked ok. No barriers or Astral guards, but that wasn't uncommon for a hole-in-the-wall joint like Matchsticks. It was still pretty empty, although it had some business going. The place had a mild vibe, but the important thing was was that Fuzzy hadn't arrived yet. Returning to his body, Ark sets a timer until 18:45.
Reaching into the backseat, Ark grabs his nylon backpack and pulls out his book. He turns on his car's radio to one of his preferred stations, playing a continuous stream of lyric-less techno, as he opens up to his bookmark. He mumbles to himself as his eyes scan the page and he tries to incorporate the new theories into his current knowledge.
18:45
*Beep Beep* Ark flinches at the sound more felt than heard. The two tones were actually very mild, but when caught off-guard, it was kinda jarring. Again regaining his bearings, Ark replaces the bookmark, shoves the book in his backpack, and exits his car. He locks up, and leaves the garage, walking his way to Matchsticks. Unfortunately, the rain has gotten a little worse rather than better, so Ark tries to rush the trip, keeping under the shop awnings on the main streets when possible.
18:58
His attempt to avoid the rain is only minorly successful, and Ark is pretty soaked by the time he reaches Matchsticks. Looking at the short line to get in (It would be longer later, wether the weather was nice or not) Ark realizes that he won't be able to get past the crowd, and worse, he forgot his mad cash. . .
Ark walks down the street a short bit, ducking into an alleyway. He checks to make sure that he is unobserved, then puts up his invisibility and stealth spells. Walking back to the enterance, Ark waits for someone to be allowed in, and sneaks in with them, trying both to move quickly and carefully, worried if anyone is noticing the unusal rain hitting him. Once inside he goes into the restroom, where he can drop his spells without being too obvious. He enters a stall, drops his spells, and tries to dry off using some of the toilet paper. On the way out, he passes an angry man who is also trying to dry himself off, between grumbling various insults.
Heading back to the bar, Ark has a drink, to celebrate his bypass of the cover charge, as he watches the rest of the room for signs of Fuzzy or his usual crowd. A quick astral peak shows that he is absent. I can wait for a few minutes, Ark thinks. Maybe the rain stopped him. . . However, after several minutes, amid increasing worry, Ark concludes that he isn't here, and he isn't coming.
Just as Ark is about to leave, his cellphone beeps lightly. Quickly checking the information panel, reading Fuzzy's number, Ark answers. "Hoi chummer, you're late. You said Matchsticks, right?"
