Elle parks her slate grey pick up in the hotel parking lot. She shuts off the engine but leaves the radio on, some emo shit about whining on the speakers.
She sighs deeply, leaning foreward to rest her head on the steering wheel, she is already chafing at doing this little task for the Invictus, this nonesensical bullshit of titles already baffling her and making her exceedlingly cranky.
Fuck this shit, how did Davis stand this... And he was a goddamn Gangrel... How did he keep himself so under control.. God. I'll do this task to help Scotts, not for the Invictus, this will be my first little helper task to her, she's smart enough to keep on my goodside, and... she appreciated Davis... Davis....
She shakes her head hard, clunking it gently on the steering wheel a couple times, thinking of many things she would rather be doing than sitting here at a hotel looking for some missing dude. She finally calms down her jittering nerves (having gone without a fix for several nights) and gets out, planning on going to Davis's later and collecting the rest of his stuff, or at least shit that nobody else would want.
She gets out of the truck and heads into the hotel.
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