Thread: A New Start (MoonsBlackWolf x YenPointFive)

No one save for Alex really knew how long he had lived. And that was one of the primary reasons he remained a Nobody. Obviously, the capital N was probably unnecessary, but Alex liked to think it had a use. Vampires ran in various circles, call them what you will, packs, covens, or clans. Hide your age and no one is sure whether they can push you around or whether they should avoid you. That meant you could stay out of vampire politics and do what you liked. Andre and Alex were night and day beyond the simple fact that Andre was willing to put up with Alex's love of freedom. His own, of course, Alex saw no reason to extend freedom to those who didn't work as tirelessly as he did to defend it for themselves. He didn't, however, take slaves of his own, as a general rule. Meals were easy enough to find from the willing. And if he couldn't, there was always that gaze that made them willing. It wasn't as if he couldn't simply have them forget. And one little nip now and again didn't harm a human. It had been nearly a decade since Alex had last paid his friend a visit, and he'd been going by Alexi back then. He'd dropped his Russian accent and the habit of slipping into the language, though anyone who knew him long enough would know he'd picked up the language only about 25 years ago. He'd slipped back into familiar American English, somewhere from the south in the 1950s or so, but it fit well enough now. In fact, he looked like he could have been a farm boy at one point. The oldest Andre knew for sure put him older than that. He'd fought in World War II and had already been turned by then. He'd also dropped hints that he at least was around for the first Great War, whether or not he was a vampire by then. Alex had blond hair and bright green eyes and was definitely of some Germanic descent, though the exact country was a little hard to place. He didn't really dress as fine as most vampires. He didn't like standing out like many of them did. He wore simple blue jeans and a vintage aviator jacket. If asked he'd probably say it had belonged to his grandfather but that'd be a lie. He had a large caliber revolver at his hip and a knife tucked into one of his boots, though by now Andre knew well enough that he had nothing to fear from Alex. The gun would be left on some table or another to be collected later before the night was over. In time, conversation would be brought to the gift that he was to receive from Andre. Naturally he'd be inclined to return something else in kind, some wonder from his travels. He was perpetually the guest though he felt he ought to at least fake being a host at some point, even if it wasn't in his own home. To say that he was displeased by what he saw wasn't quite correct. He tolerated Andre's appetites in roughly the way anyone humored a friend with tastes slightly different than his own. Now and then he might poke fun or decline, but simply put, he'd seen far worse men than Andre. Juliana could still count to ten on any extremity she had originally been able to do so with, and had a tongue to do so aloud. That was better than he could say for some. He stepped up to the girl and began to unchain her bit by bit. She wouldn't run, Andre had taught her better than that. What's your name? He asked softly. He also knew he'd get an answer. She'd speak when spoken to. She was beautiful, scars and all, though he couldn't help but wish that her ribs weren't trying so hard to be noticeable. He wondered off hand if it'd be out of place for him to feed her. She'll do nicely. He said with a little smile. Whether or not he intended to play the nice guy, he was hungry, and Andre knew this. I'm afraid you know that my tastes are a little less diverse than your own. Even after all these years, you will permit me to be slightly squeamish of an audience? He said to his friend with a little smile. It was Andre's home and he'd never dream of asking him to leave the room, but he did feel that he'd rather enjoy this gift in private.