It had been too long. Too long since Xavier Blackthorne had settled into a city and gorged himself on the vast energies within. After over two centuries, he had long since seen all the world wonders that he desired to see. He had watched as the world went from daily drudgery and aristocracy to a wealth of technology. Equality. Well, as much equality as could be, but the mortals that decried their predicaments did not realize just how good they had it. How in two centuries of life their world had changed. They were mayflys compared to him, blooming and withering between blinks, their cries an echo in the vastness of his power. As time passed their intelligence grew but their strength fell. Weaklings. How easy it was to prey upon the world when one was a monster.
Faerie, monster, semantics.
He smelled the rich energies around him. Their auras were bright among the dull stars of the mortals that scattered like roaches, back and forth, building and dying and breathing. For a time, Thorne merely leaned against a cool brick wall amid the pandemonium of city life and watched. Oh, the mortals were lovely still, with the fire of hope in their eyes. Even the ones who hunched in despair gave him a particular sort of pleasure. He could taste it. What would it take to push them to that very limit? A mere touch of an elbow of a lovely woman, a mere drink of the energy of her life, and she stumbled away, blinking in the light rainfall blearily. Wearied, confused.
Her energy was but a drop in the bucket that he could consume; mortals were so fragile. No, he waited for better prey.
Xavier was a patient sort, settling back with his leather jacket hunched around his neck, enjoying the way his dark hair plasters to his alabaster skin. The coolness of it amid a slight breeze. There - he senses her. A bright beacon of energy and power embroiled in the mesh of the crowd. She failry shines among them with her bright hair, flashing blue eyes. Even from across the busy street he can see each detail, his plush lips peeling back into a satisfied grin as he pushes away from the wall.
Then begins the prowling. He moves with a sleek gait of a predator, easing between bodies instinctively, winking at the mortal women who pause to give him an appraising eye. It is not only their energy he enjoys, but he doesn't have time for that yet. Instead, he crosses the street among the crowds, falling back so that he can follow behind her. A witch, powerful enough to stand out.
As he reaches a corner his steps quicken until he is right behind her, a hand reaching out, intending to touch her bare forearm. A swipe, just a swipe, one that will yank some of that luscious power into him....
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