The full moon was still a good ways away, but sometimes Vladimir could feel it waxing and waning just like one might feel their heart beating. And this month it was especially acute. Though he wasn't sure why, but even his blood thirst - the one he shouldn't have or suffer from anymore, was just riding below the surface. He craved blood, the rich irony taste of it, warm and thick, thicker than any water and more quenching too, as it slid down his throat.
Sitting alone at a table, Vlad watched darkly and with barely disguised contempt as the pretty waitresses waited on the tables, serving beer to men like him, well, maybe not exactly like him... but men who were here desperately looking for company, someone that might listen to them, or if they were lucky, and the gods were favoring them, show them a good time, or take pity on their sorry lives... which annoyed Vlad to the core. Such pathetic behaviour made him want to smash the heads of these sorry excuses for human beings and make them beg before he ripped their throats apart.
"Miss," Vladimir said as he reached out and grabbed the hand of a waitress who happened to be walking by. "Can I get a double whiskey neat?" he asked her, flashing her a warm, charming smile. A smile that contradicted and hid the simmering rage and bloodthirst that Vladimir was feeling at the moment.
(Open thread. I just need one willingvictim, I mean, participant. Or two. XD)
Sitting alone at a table, Vlad watched darkly and with barely disguised contempt as the pretty waitresses waited on the tables, serving beer to men like him, well, maybe not exactly like him... but men who were here desperately looking for company, someone that might listen to them, or if they were lucky, and the gods were favoring them, show them a good time, or take pity on their sorry lives... which annoyed Vlad to the core. Such pathetic behaviour made him want to smash the heads of these sorry excuses for human beings and make them beg before he ripped their throats apart.
"Miss," Vladimir said as he reached out and grabbed the hand of a waitress who happened to be walking by. "Can I get a double whiskey neat?" he asked her, flashing her a warm, charming smile. A smile that contradicted and hid the simmering rage and bloodthirst that Vladimir was feeling at the moment.
(Open thread. I just need one willing