Path of the Vampire forum

Nikolae drew a finger along the sharpest edge of his new favorite sword, admiring the craftsmanship with a smirk of pride. He never did anything by half, and his weapons were a testament to that. It was quiet there, in the Dragomir Temple, and had been for some time. Like their dragon counterparts, many of the Dragomir had found a proverbial cave and gone to sleep. Who knew how many years or centuries it might be before they woke again. His beloved Skuld had briefly made an appearance, covered in dirt and seeking hugs, before wandering into the night again. He did not hold it against her, or any of them really. Nikolae was a solitary creature, and much of his brood was the same. He would make waves in this putrid city for a few months, and then feel himself losing interest and soon enough be back to silence. He would sometimes go months without uttering a word out loud. Perhaps he would send a thought to his eldest, Azraeth, or a half-sane text to the same. If he were feeling froggy, he would inundate his own sires head with inane babble in the hopes the Mad Chad would come crawling out of whatever hole he’d buried himself in and take a swing at Nikolae. He’d enjoy it. In his mind they might have a scrap, and ultimately embrace as childe and sire ought to, speak for an hour or so, and then part ways again. Such was the way of the vampire. Or at least, such was the way of any of his ties. The males of the Dragon bloodline were all in some ways alike in that fashion; they were aloof, quiet and calculating, probably plotting to remove your spine and see what it would look like attached to another person. The females were all mad, crazed in some way – usually a result of too much passion in their veins. Like the dragons, the males were cold as ice and the females were hot as flame. At least, that had been his experience. But then, perhaps that was a matter of choice.

Nikolae slid the sword back into its sheath as he stood, checking the rounds in his favorite gun before donning a jacket to leave. The Dragon was nothing if not hardheaded, and for as long as he could recall he had always shied away from Allurists. Hated them, in fact. Probably a result of the early nights of his vampirism, feeling the sick tendrils of their manipulation wrap around his thoughts and sometimes even wriggling into his heart. He’d nearly slept with one, under that same manipulation. Those charming smiles, the honeyed tones and whispered promises of whatever the hell their target wanted to hear. It gave him chills even now to consider being in the presence of one. But it hadn’t always been that way. No, not by a long shot. As a mortal he thought himself fairly charming – his bed was never empty if he’d wanted it otherwise. But his inner heart had bled black, and so the night Chad had funneled his poisonous blood into Nik he’d been reborne a Shadow.

He thought back to his days as a mortal, and it was like watching the movie of someone elses life. Idealic. Sunny and full of laughter and close ties. Ties that he’d burnt since joining the ranks of the almost immortal. Nik stepped into a bar, and swept his gaze around the patrons with open curiosity. His eyes were hidden behind his usual sunglasses, and the dim lit room didn’t effect him much at all. He took a seat, and felt something inside of himself shift. Coiling and ready, seeking out prey. The loudest, boisterous, most charming male here tonight would die. If he were lucky, there would be a moment that would stay Nik’s fangs. And then he might be reborne with a mouth full of black blood and the searing gaze of a dragon boring into him. Nik grunted at the barkeep who set a glass of something frothy and disgusting in front of him. He wouldn’t drink it, but he’d probably pay for it. Maybe. He angled himself on the stool he was perched on to peer without apology.

There was some loud crowd already taking up space and sucking down more liquor than oxygen at a table. Nikolae was glad that he couldn’t smell whatever was wafting from their direction. The leader was standing though, and exiting with a scowl on his features. Intriguing. The Dragon waited a moment before standing himself, and tossing a few bills on the counter top for his still-full beer. He couldn’t get a buzz off the stuff anyways, and even if he could have he wouldn’t have bothered with it – not being of his full faculties was a recipe for disaster. He adjusted his jacket, ensuring it hung over his holster at least though the sword made a bulge at his back. His boots thumped quietly across the wooden floor as he trailed after the male and edged out the door silently.

He found his target not far from the door, and swept his gaze over the figure speculatively. So far nothing too exciting, he could die this night. The Dragon stepped closer, away from the lingering light from inside the bar, and let the shadows seep around his frame naturally.

“Evening.” He spoke quietly, head tilting to watch the male speculatively. He rarely felt the need to speak to his meals, but the mortal stood a half chance of being more than fast food for reasons Nikolae still couldn’t put his finger on.

He let his hands dangle at his sides, fingers flexing idly. It would be so easy to simply snatch the human, pull him to the nearest alley, and drain him of every drop. Easier still to toss him in the sewers with the rest of the forgotten things. He didn’t though, at least not at the moment. He wanted to see how the human reacted when out of his natural environment seemingly surrounded by his peons. One thing was for certain, this strange mortal would not be returning to that life – one way or another.

Nikolae eyed the cigarette, and finally took it with a little shrug. It would do nothing for him, and he had no need of breathing anyway. But he understood so many of his kind puffed at the things for something to do; an old habit, an itchy need to twitch and just be moving at all times. The Dragon had never felt that need. He could sit in utter stillness for days if need be, peering into the dying embers of a mortals eyes. Oh, they all had it coming, generally. Whether it was because they were horrible criminals of humanity, or because they'd irritated him - road rage on a new level, and after all he had all of eternity to exact his petty vengeance.

"Thanks." He said quietly, unconcerned really if the mortal could hear him. He should be trying to. He should be straining to soak up every syllable that fell from the Dragon's lips. He waited for the stick to be lit, and when it was he brought it to his lips carelessly. It was a chore, to force his lungs to inflate. Speaking really took so little air to pass over his vocal cords and through his lips - this smoking business was far more than necessary, really. He shifted subtly, until he had his gun-free arm leaning up against a pillar, and pushed the burning acrid smoke back out of his body toward the male.

"A certain heady feeling, to be surrounded by peons." He spoke again, after nearly a minute of silence. He could easily forget to speak, but felt the man needed to hear his words. His jacket made slight noise as he lowered his arm with the cancer stick, flicking the ash carelessly onto the ground. It fell near his familiar heavy black boots half hidden by the black jeans he wore. A Shadow's best friend was the color black, and Nikolae had no exception to that. Head to toe, including the super-tinted sunglasses that always graced his face. "What makes them follow you, I wonder." He added on a near sigh, one dark eyebrow lifting enough to be visible above his glasses and just beneath the messy fringe of his dark hair. He was fairly certain there wasn't any dust in his hair tonight, but he couldn't be sure. He forgot about things like that, especially as he spent enough time in forms other than the body his spirit was housed in.

Nikolae would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by the male who spoke so freely. Not carelessly, though, that much the Dragon could tell. He listened to the male speaking, remaining silent between bouts of words. For some that would be off putting - the awkward pauses, the lack of a response. He didn't even bother with noncommital sounds and grunts. Seemed a waste of energy, and anyways he hadn't yet decided if the male was worthy of more than a late night snack. The cigarette between his fore and middle finger was still burning, slower now without the aid of his own lungs, and he was nearly distracted by the quiet little sizzle that most probably couldn't hear. His nose twitched.

"So then, you don't know when to follow? When to be quiet and listen, wait for your moment, learn and watch and become something more than you are?"

His voice was fluid, the words nearly melding into one another as he spoke. Knowing that, he spoke a little louder. There wasn't much use speaking if the mortal had no chance of hearing. And hearing was of the utmost importance to this living, breathing creature. He stood up straight again with an easy roll of motion, like a cat slinking from its perch, and moved closer to the male. The smell of him was thick; the usual odors of humanity overlaid with the faintest hints of whatever shampoo, soap, and cologne he might use. But beneath that was the scent of his blood. There were some of his kind who might joke they could tell the strangers type with a mere sniff. Nikolae wasn't one of those, and he had yet to discern one type of blood from another. A mystery, that. Maybe he hadn't given it enough thought. An experiment or seven was due. He should seek out a partner for such scientific endeavors. With a thought, he informed his first borne to remind of such. Raeth. Remind me to learn the differences in blood types, where our kind are concerned. Find me a scientist. Or a masochist. It matters not which, really.

He smiled to himself, though he hadn't said a word of that thought out loud of course. It was a comfort to have his childer ready to respond. Though so few remained. That thought had the smile slipping, and his gaze narrowing on the stranger standing here outside the bar.

"Do you think there is something left for you to learn, stranger? Is there anything that could make you want to?" He asked quietly. For each of his childer, the newer brood, he'd asked a question. It was something important, though he couldn't really say why. Somehow, he thought it might be more imperative for them than for him. Still, he waited silently for the answer, standing possibly uncomfortably close. There was a lot more discomfort in this mortals future.

Nikolae surveyed the male, listening to his answer and considering it with the heavy weight of the long silences stretched between them. At least the self assured mortal was willing to listen, willing to learn. Not so confident as he portrayed himself, not as full of all the answers as those simple minded peons still rowdy and drinking the remaining brain cells between them away inside the bar. The Dragon could work with that.

"What mysteries would you learn, if you had all the time in the world, I wonder." He said at last, not particularly a question but open for an answer if the mortal thought he knew how to reply right now. It was an odd thing, speaking to pure blooded humans, especially about topics such as immortality. Something they could not possibly grasp, even if they tried their hardest to wrap their minds around it. Like asking the eighteen year old boy what he wanted to do for the rest of his life; he was all grown up - a full fledged adult now - so surely he must know how he intended to spend the remaining eighty plus years of his menial existence. No, not a chance. That child knew as much as the grown human lounging here outside the bar what the future held.

Well. Nikolae knew perfectly well. At least the immediate future. Which was far more than this stranger could say for himself.

"I'm Nikolae Dragomir." He spoke again, dropping the cigarette only when he realized it had burned itself down to the stub and nearly singed his fingertips. He didn't often give his name to humans, not even now in his most recent endeavors. No, those mortals knew him only as Nemesis - and for certain that's how things would stay. But this man here, he was unlikely to remain alive for much longer. Whether because he crossed into death in the Dragons embrace, or woke to immortality in the same.

He turned slightly until he was fully facing the man. "Have you ever seen the Temple? In Gullsborough? It isn't far from here. It's beautiful. Everyone should see such a sight before they die." He said, a hint of persuasion in his voice. He wasn't one for charming, and he certainly wasn't one for asking. It wasn't a request. It was just this side of a demand. And truth be told, the Dragomir had every intention of forcing the issue if he must. It had most suddenly become imperative that this mortal not die in the murky alley outside the bar whose name he couldn't even recall. A Dragon deserved a better beginning than that.