Strangers in the Night [Naamah]

[Will Warrender]

The nice thing about being completely nocturnal was that it was all too easy to hide, no one looked for a sleeping guy during the day, and well...the night was for those who kept to the shadows. And Daniel was getting all too adept at keeping off the beaten track, in cover of darkness.

His last hiding spot had been discovered. Or at least he saw some people investigating the little drainage pipe he had been calling home. That didn't sit well with him. So now, he was sniffing around for a new place to haunt, no where too cozy, being too comfortable caused nothing but trouble.

Already he was nearly at a full tilt run, he was much faster then he looked, a sheet in his hand as he vaulted over the castle gate, with an almost practiced grace. Soon, he was creeping around the Windsor grounds humming to himself, as he his paranoia was turning into fear, the shadows were starting to sneak up on him, and he started to fill the silence with something a bit more comfortable as he walked about, his voice reedy as the the lyrics from an old Sinatra song passed his lips, broken and awkward.

"...Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wondring in the night
...What were the chances wed be sharing love
Before the night was through...."

[kurayami]

Taking light stops down the warm hallway, I could almost feel the thin threads of darkness enclosing my slender form. Though the summer heat lingered in the air, the stone floor emitted a cool tang through my ballet shoes. I waltz down the hallways, dancing with an imaginary partner to an unheard ballad. Arid clothes revealed an excess of skin. I was well aware of the face and really, it didn’t bother me. Naamah Lucifruge Rofocale was not ashamed of skin. The apartment that I had rented had started to get dull, and this castle seemed so much better with its looming stone walls and intimating buttresses. I could see the grounds from the height of its existence. The prominent figures that might have lived there hanging crimson silk curtains over the enormous windows and putting in darker, heavier velvet brocade for the colder months. Magnificence tainted my visions of crystal chandeliers dotting the great rooms made from the finest Venetian glass and elegant torches casting ominous shadows through the hallways. And I imagined that I owned the castle. Such a grand place it would be - a touch of beauty around every corner and servants to serve my every need. They would call me mistress - no, they would call me ‘My Lady’. Yes, the title had a lovely ring to it. I could see the way they curtsied and bowed to me as I swept past in the hallways, pale blonde locks flying as if I were dancing.

They were fanciful daydreams, naive and childish, and easily broken. For at that moment, a streak of gray shot out before me. Startled from visions of grandeur, I let out an angry cry. Stupid rat. Stepping forward, I trapped it under my foot. Dragging it by its tail and bringing it up to my face, I glared at it. Maybe I was envisioning a possible future but no more. I didn’t want a rodent infested place. ”Your going to pay, you know that, my lovelie?”, I whispered to it. The creature squeaked pitifully and thankfully, I was in the mood to be merciful. Snapping its neck, a bored flick of my wrist sent it out the window. But my mood was already dampened and I sullenly rounded the last corridor towards the exit to the courtyard.

The night air met me with a flash of fireflies. Habitually glancing around, I quickly noticed a dark figure. Oooh, sneaky. Taking several whispering steps, I brought myself to a stop several feet away from the silhouette. Out of tune singing met my ears and I made a face. Creeping up to the figure, who I concluded was a man, I let my lips faintly brush his ear, feeling a wintry bite. ”Ewwwww, nassttyyy,”, I whispered quickly before dancing away. The chill left from his skin struck me as odd. Normal people, humans and werewolves alike, were always warm to touch. The faint contact with him felt like brushing your lips against metal. Well, guess it’s my lucky night. I’ve always wondered what vampires taste like. However, he didn’t seem like the ideal choice for a meal.

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[Will Warrender]

Daniel screamed with a melody that proved that if he had been trying, maybe his singing would have been quite a bit better. But for now, he was nearly jumping out of his skin, that woman had gotten too close, TOO CLOSE, and now he was scrambling to get out of the way.

The short man gasped for a moment, his initial fear turning into a flash of rage. "What the hell were you trying to do? Give me a goddamn heart attack?" He barked, clutching his chest and then checking himself with his hands to make sure everything was intact, just in case. Of course, he didn't know who this woman was, but he had a feeling, that if she was one of the guys after him, he'd have been dead by now.

As it was, Daniel noted that he was alive enough for his tastes, outside that whole...you know, vampire thing. "Jesus Christ...." he cursed, certainly not the accent of a British man, it was definitely a Yank accent, something spoken through his nose, and neutral. After settling down a little, and getting some space between the two of them, he certainly seemed a bit more stalwart, eyeing the female up and down with a weary eye.

He wouldn't run off -just- yet.