Andry Street and Law Street - King Solomon Baptist Church, approximately 10 minutes from St. Louis Cathedral, abandoned in the wake of Katrina, was no longer abandoned. Well, Berlin always knew what he was doing.

Ren walked around the perimeter of the building. Noticing the two double door entrances on the side were bricked over. Good. Too many entrances led to uninvited guests. Something Ren wasn't particularly fond of. Guests in general were a rare event. It seemed in this life friends were a liability, Berlin had warned her, and she hadn't listened. Which is why she turned from Baton Rouge and the memories that flooded her there.

New Orleans. A fresh start...again. This time her I.D actually had her birth name on it. Imagine that.

Walking through the only entrance available, she shook her head as she saw the full training area set up for her. "Days off make you lazy, lazy makes you weak." She muttered, imitating her teacher.

She found a Jamis Dakar Sixfifty B2 leaning against a wall. The most expensive bike she'd ever seen. "Why drive when you can ride?" Berlin had asked her, not really expecting an answer. For him, riding the bike was another form of exercise. For Ren, it was sometimes the best way to escape humans who mistook her for a vampire. Usually after she dusted the vampire that had been causing the trouble to begin with.

Ren found a bathroom on the other side of the wall. With a doorway that leads to the bedroom, where she dropped her army issue duffle. Across from there, a kitchen with one of those bars that you could see into the living room - dining room combo. She passed all this and went to the wall. She tapped here...tapped there. Knowing those bricked off walls were on the other side of this seemingly innocent looking wall. AHA! A little push and viola!

Ren gave a low whistle. Berlin had never quite set her up as he did now. The armory was impressive for a little dhampir such as her. She had the feeling he didn't quite tell her everything she needed to know about this area.
Securing the door she stood with her hands on her hips surveying her new digs. Inside the building had been gutted and turned into what she saw before her. Outside, the old church in the Ninth Ward looked the same; old, abused. Depending on how long she stayed in the area, she thought, maybe she'd paint the outside. Mix up the letters on the old sign for fun.

"Enough slacking off." She said to herself, heading into the bedroom and her duffle. She dug out clean clothes and headed into the bathroom. "A quick shower and off to explore."

Later on she admitted to herself that the bike definitely beat a car as a means of transportation around the French Quarter.