@thedamnedones
It was late, as it only ever could be when he was out. It was honestly pretty depressing, as no matter how many decades went by with him being regulated to the shadows and night sky, he didn’t enjoy it. He wanted sun, he wanted light, he wanted day - he wanted all the things that came with it, the brunt of a summer’s heat. Instead, he was cursed with darkness and chilled nights. It was a gripe he couldn’t see himself ever fully relinquishing. Did he ever long to give up what he was? No. That didn’t mean he enjoyed all aspects of his existence.
Another of those dreaded aspects was perhaps the one central to what he was. Now, he was no wimp, didn’t lament the fact that his diet necessitated what it did. In fact, he reveled in it, and couldn’t stand media’s fixation with the ‘emo’ vampires, the ones who hadn’t even the slightest appreciation for what they had. That wasn’t him. To him, the only downfall came when easily secured pickings were low. Smart had never been a word tossed his way too often, but he knew from past experiences that the last thing he needed was a hunter ever falling on his heels, which meant no supremely risky public feedings outside of occasions where it could be passed off, such as Halloween.
So, yes, while blood in and of itself brought him no qualms, it could be a pain to not have the ease of snagging a pick-up meal from a drive-thru. At least, he had thought as much, up until today.
That day, after taking his first steps out of the place he was holing himself up in during the early hours, he’d been accosted by some woman. An old one. At first, he’d been offended. He didn’t like old people, at least not those who showed it physically. Wrinkles as a concept repulsed him, and she’d been close enough that he could almost hear cawing with the crow’s feet. Worse was when she touched him, leathery hand shoving a scrap of paper into his eternally youthful one, before she took off without a single word to him.
He had watched her leave, incredulous, and half feeling as though he’d been dropped into some Disney movie where he’d soon be transformed into some animal as a consequence of offending her. Of course, with that not happening, he settled for dealing with whatever she had left him with.
Unfolding that paper had brought him to where he currently was: outside a place that reeked of both wealth and the mystic. Weaker than he liked, he’d been slower than his norm arriving at the location scribbled down, but the journey was still shorter than it would have been coming by car. Even from afar, standing on the pathway that led up to the looming manor, he was able to pick up on voices, and they only increased in volume the closer he got to the residence. Looking at it, it was easier to believe this wasn’t a trap - and if it was, it was certainly a good one. There was only one way to find out.
Shoving his hands into the pockets of a coat far too expensive for someone who’d never worked a day of his unlife, he slowly walked up to the front doors set before him, eyes flickering elsewhere every so often before he reached them. Slipping inside once he had, there was an immediate shift in the external of before and the internal of where he was now; what once had seemed empty, deserted, now rang of life. People bustled around him, and though some might have found it overwhelming, he found it… comforting. Confusing, but comforting. Large gatherings were enjoyable to him, and it hadn’t been a long while since he’d been a part of one that wasn’t simply a rave.
All the same, there was still that confusion. The paper he’d been given hadn’t had too many details, which left him floundering as far as his next move. In the end, he just reached out to tug a random passerby closer to him, ignoring the look of aggravation they shot him afterward. “Hey, so, uh… is someone in charge here? Or is this a free-for-all type deal?”
