Dareios sighs deeply as they stride easily along the sidewalk, his small, beady eyes wide and attentive to the landscape of city scenes all around them. A loud bus rumbles by, its fumes and motion causing the edges of his blazer to flip up in protest. People, both human and many forms of supernatural, shuffle by them quickly and usually without as much as a second glance. This is perhaps what he liked most about Sacrosanct. This busyness of the city. The comfort of the chaos. The opportunity that awaits each and every soul with every new day. After spending many years on this earth, Dareios is clearly still very much an optimist and maybe even still a bit of a romantic. When Dorian asks about Dareios' background, the vampire smiles stiffly to him but is happy to oblige. "Ireland. I'm a culchie through and through. I was born in Kilsallaghan, the country outside of Dublin." He says nonchalantly. "Just before the Industrial Revolution." It's funny how time plays such an interesting role in the supernatural community. Age often defined power, especially with vampires. But it was also illuminating on a more personal level. It helped connect them, just like any other interest or geographical element. Dareios was able to assume that this fae king had lived quite a while as well. History was part of their lives. It was something Dareios cherished. The vampire takes a moment to settle into his new surroundings as they move quickly from the hostess stand to a table in a dimly lit dining room. Dorian offers up that he is with someone, which is of no surprise to Dareios. The vampire politely smiles and nods his head. "Ah, that makes sense." he says, flashing a short-lived toothy grin as they settle into their table. He carefully unfolds the black napkins on their table and lets it drape gently over his lap. "Perhaps I know him?" Dareios counters, though internally he knows this isn't likely. Dareios didn't keep company with those of his own kind very much anymore. But that's a different story. It's an inevitable, though remarkably uncomfortable, 'new normal' for Dareios, who even after many months in office, still squirms under the scrutiny of many eyeballs in a public setting. So when the young vampire is suddenly beside them, kneeling at their table so their faces are awkwardly close, Dareios just continues to smile uncomfortably. "Of course. What is your name?" He asks, allowing his cold fingers to select a pen from his breast pocket. He scribbles it down, along with a polite message and his loopy, lackadasical signature, and slides the paper back to her. "Thank you." He says kindly to her, but immediately turns his attention back to Dorian, trying to make this interaction as brief as possible. "I'm so sorry about that." He says with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. I'm afraid I don't know how to make it stop." Dareios pours himself into the menu now, lifting it to cover his face from the fae for some time. But he nods quickly in response to Dorian's inquiry. "Ha, yes. Much more suitable to my palate, it seems." He says curtly, and folds the menu back in place before putting it down. Dareios Auerbach | Vampire | Vinyl |