Dareios' phone buzzed away in his pocket, but he ignored it. Whoever needed him at this hour either didn't know him or certainly didn't know better. This sacred time at dusk, as the night began, was reserved always for personal time. He tried to ignore the vibrating sensation against his leg and focus on the sights and sounds of the bustling park around him. It was in these moments the vampire found some semblance of zen. It made the work feel worth it, even when so many of his kind were still so quick to chastise him for it. He was in it - somewhere deep in his meditation - when a woman with a strange accent approached him. Dareios' beady dark eyes blinked quickly as he focused on her and her somewhat scowling face. Her gaze, it seemed, couldn't focus on his for more than a few seconds at a time before falling back onto ... his shoes? Before his lips could part and he could breathe life into an answer - she spoke again. Her quip about his shoes made him scoff a quick laugh. "Thanks for that." He dismissed quickly, looking down at the trendy but God awfully ugly sneakers on his feet. If he were being honest - he didn't even pick them out himself. He had people for that. Apparently these were all the rage among Gen Z and his PR team were hellbent on trying a new way to make him look more approachable among that newly 'of voting age' demographic. He begins to stand from the bench, his tall and lanky frame easily towering over this were-woman when she has even more to say. This time, Dareios doesn't smile. His face goes stone cold. It was clear this Celtic-borne were was much older than him. He could feel her power radiating just under the surface. But it had certainly been a while since someone had spoken to him like that. His more predatory senses tingled and Dareios did his best to hide the fangs that threatened to show behind his lips. He'd worked hard, over many decades, to develop the strong sense of discipline he had in place now. So as she turned to leave, clearly heading in the opposite direction of where she intended to go, he let her. "ádh mór." He whispered, but his lips didn't move. Instead, he sent her the message telepathically, hoping she'd appreciate his native Irish tongue. "toisc go bhfuil tú i gceannas ar an mbealach mícheart" Dareios Auerbach | Vampire | Vinyl |