Upper Manhattan is much more different than the Bronx at Night. Even with the bite from the dog of September, flapper girls were out and about for the public's purview. Bands from so many different rackets blend in a turgent discord of sounds. The laughs and howls of both men and women alike, enjoying the taste of fermented golden ichor.
It was truly a Borough of Sin.
Yet none of this was appealing to the being walking alone down the street. His mind was dead-set on the mission and had quite a ways to walk.
After talking with Ittomori about the suspected Yakuza clan at play, Christian felt as if it was necessary to do this by himself. Going in silence was the best option, which included even getting to the said destination.
It gave him time however to think about the experiences he has had. The mortal world itself came a long long way. Instead of constant mausoleums and fortresses, now buildings were piercing the heavens, no longer hunting after Mother Nature and her enemies. Some of the said enemies were even tamed and kept as loyal companions. They even flaunted and kept some on display for their children to see.
Instead of just men acting in the plays, women have finally joined in. The Merchant of Verona became more authentic because of it. Even when it came to drinking water, he did not have to collect souls afflicted with cholera.
He recollected his mind, passing by a final lamp post before turning down Amsterdam Ave. He had about ten more blocks before his destination, and he couldn't be stuck on the modern marvels of this world.
Christian, despite his understanding of the building plans... Did not have a plan for himself. He knew he could not just stroll in the front gate, or try to disguise himself. Those were well off the table already.
"Maybe the fire escape? It would be risky... I would need a distraction..."
He mumbled to himself, a few ideas coming to mind. He happened to notice a few drunken people walking down the sidewalk. He may just have figured out how to get inside. The Death in disguise strolled over, stopping two of them.
"How would you two like to make some quick cash?"
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The Schiff Building. It was a Grand Hotel, considered the cream of the crop. Yet, it was never open to the public. Guards stood at the doors, looking almost like statues from years upon years of training. Yet inside, it almost seemed much more lively than usual.
Two men stumbled their way over, catching the eyes of the stone-faced beings.
"Sorry," One of the guards began, stepping forward to block the path of the malt-smelling males. "The Schiff Grand Hotel has no vacancy. Please leave the premises"
The guard placed a hand on the first one, who went to casually shrug off the man's hand.
"C'mon brother, my mate has a little too much. Just at least let him use the Loo."
"Y-yeah I need to... oh God-"
A foul stench entered the air as his stomach exhumed its content. All over the very guard who tried to stop them. One could say that was the very trigger that ignited the fight that soon ensued.
"Thank you, lads, I'll be sure to buy you a drink next time."
Christian said as he stood on the fire escape, watching all that went down. He had a feeling they could handle their own; though even if they came out a bit bruised it would only strengthen their character.
He took this opportunity to check the window, seeing how easily it glided open. A good hotel indeed, making sure that everything was properly oiled. It would be their downfall.
"Now for the fun part....."
He would mutter as he carefully stepped onto the rug, and closed the window. No chances to be taken here. Where he stood was the second floor, a better chance to get to the bottom.
"The dumbwaiter is my best option, given how grand this place is... they must have one in this room."
He said as he snuck across the floor. Other than the rug he landed on, the rest was hardwood. Christian would shuffle his feet, knowing that if he raised his shoe it would make the audible clack that may raise an alarm.
He would check its door, giving a sigh of relief that it opened up. Luckily for him, it was right there. Though it seemed that was where his luck ran out.
Christian quickly got in, the sounds of steps moving down the hall. He would close the door, shrouded in its darkness as the bedroom door quickly opened up. His nerves were on edge, his honor was at stake as well as Phoenix's and her Familia.
He wouldn't waste any time, in fear that he may have already been found out. He reached out, grabbed the rope, and started to pull up on it, forcibly descending the minuscule elevator down the shaft. He took a deep breath as it clattered against the wall. There was a shout from the bedroom, and he cursed himself. If the alarms weren't raised, they would be now.
He kept going, the groaning of the wood rubbing together in his hastening to pull. As he passed a level, a slice of light peeked through along with more shouting. The sounds of clattering cutlery and pans falling to the floor reached him. The kitchen, just one more floor to go and he can get the two captives.
Christian's relief fell short when he felt the dumbwaiter lurch, along with a lot more resistance. It seemed that they were trying to fight him a life-bound tug of war to capture him.
It was a fight he was losing as the carriage began to rise, despite how much strength he put into it. The being of Death had no choice, it was now or never. He pulled his knife from seemingly nowhere and sliced the roughened cord. The distinct sound of the rope 'thwapping' and grunts of bodies was the last thing he heard before the weightlessness took over, the screeching of the wood and squealing wheels taking over.
The only thing the trapped being could do was brace for impact.