[ @iconoclast-infidels ]
The vampire Zakhary Nikolayev was by nature a wanderer and by nurture —or rather, by the almost complete lack thereof— nonchalant. It had long been that he had decided to simply accept every night with whatever strangeness it brought, no fuss or bother. He had standards, sure, and preferences, but by and large he took things in stride. Tonight was no different. Last week, he had found his way to the underbelly of Detroit again and tonight he was lurking under a particular bridge in the city where at night, he'd overheard someone say, one might be lucky —or cursed— enough to encounter a ghostly apparition that played disembodied music. Ghosts had never before failed to cause interesting things to happen in their vicinity, and Zak, for one, loved interesting.
Under the bridge as the night was young, he'd managed to make a few sales and even flirted with a few passerbys. Nothing serious, none interesting enough to take home in lieu of the promised ghost show. No, that was worth waiting for. The money was convenient and the flirting was idle entertainment to keep himself occupied while he waited. Not too far away rats scurried through drainage pipes in search for food. He didn't bother them if they approached him. They didn't bother him, either. In moments of desperation, their blood was acceptable too, to get by. Far from caring about them, he simply figured it was easier to catch them for blood if the rats had some semblance of willingness to approach him.
As the deeper hours of the night approached, he'd managed to score a human to feed from: a lonesome fella, well-fed and drunk enough to not put up a fight. Zak had taken the opportunity gladly and was damn near drinking the man dry before he felt something in the air change. Long-undead, he did not feel the cold as dramatically as he would have in life, but he felt the change in temperature and the distinct otherness it carried.
He caressed the man's cheek with the back of a hooked finger, sly smile playing on his blood-soaked lips. "Shame, you could've been fun to keep. Go," he urged the man, nudging him away. Zak took a step back to give the man enough space between him and the wall to scurry away, and then he turned around to face the darkness.
As he wiped off the dripping blood with the thumb-side edge of his hand, he recognized Nico. Zak grinned and eyed him indulgently from head to toe and back.
"Well, if it ain't you, pretty princess. Guess you would be where the ghosts are. You want anything?"
Then he noticed Dmitry wasn't attached to Nico at the hip. Intrigued, he tilted his head slightly. "What about your doll of a twink? Adorable little boytoy, you ought not misplace him," he commented coolly.
Anticipating Nico's possessiveness, he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'll keep my paws off, don't you worry your pretty face about it. Can't promise I won't look though. Eye candy."
"Say, when's the music start?"
