Dareios wasn't the type to go out looking for trouble. He was well mannered, brought up in a high class, though working family and for the most part, enjoyed the finer things in life. His Anacosta Heights brownstone was filled with many expensive trinkets --- many of them family heirlooms he'd accumulated over the centuries he'd been alive. In a way, it was how Dareios honored his human heritage, and the life he had been forced to leave behind back in Dublin. But on this particular night, under the waxing crescent moon, Dareios moved at a brisk pace over the uneven and slick brick-laiden path of the old shipping district in the west side of town. Business had been slow lately -- slow enough that he would be caught dead (har, har) in this part of town alone, and in a suit that cost more than two years worth of rent in this shit hole of a neighborhood. His associate, it seems, had been stealing from him. Now don't get me wrong. Dareios is a level headed man. He always has been. He's sympathetic to those that deserve it. Ian, however, was not among them. So the vampire had feasted on his human counterpart. Slowly of course. Painfully. Whatever life was left in him was sure to be drained this very evening when Dareios returned from the drop Ian was scheduled to attend. Humans. It is so hard to find good help these days. The drop, to the vampire's surprise, went according to plan. The cash in the envelope was tucked neatly into an inside breast pocket and off he went. His heels echoed loudly against the damp walls of the alleyway. He scowled upon realizing his fine Italian leather shoe had landed into the depths of a murky and thick puddle along the roadway. Tomorrow the hunt for a new human hire would begin. Dareios | Vampire | Vinyl |