Of all of Markus' life, this moment had been the one he had dreaded most, his initiation. His eyes scanned the stone room for chance of escape, but there was none; two large priests in black robes defended the small room’s only doorway. He eyes shifted downward, giving himself a good look. He was dressed in his priestly vestments, the black robe clinging to his shoulders and billowing out around him. A long, gold-colored silk cord hung around his neck with a black pendant strung to it. He was surprised at how heavy it was, or actually, at how heavy it hung to his soul. He looked at it, entranced slightly by it's dark glow and found it hard to bring his eyes from it, though his eyes tore away to look behind him at the other priests. The elders grinned evilly at him as he turned away, ashamed that they could see into his good heart.

Markus now stood tall over an altar and looked down at the victim that he was to slay. He suddenly felt the dagger in his hand, it's weight growing with the anxiety of his guilt. The man pulled hard at the chains that held him down to the altar. They seemed to be too tight, stretching his arms to the point that the skin tore and a little trail of blood trickled from the wound. He looked at his soon-to-be murder and pleaded, "No, please, just let me go!" He turned one last time at the elders who shooed him, offering ‘support’ saying, "Go on, and do it."

Markus raised the dagger and brought it down, into his victim. A scream ruptured from the man. As Markus had feared, the first strike was not the killing blow. He began butchering the man, his elders laughing with glee.

Markus' eyes flashed open as sweat dripped into them. He cursed, getting out of the bed and wiping the perspiration from his eyes. This dream had been one of many that the gods had cursed him with and it hadn't even been one a terrible one. Others he woke screaming, shaking and found himself unable to sleep again for days at a time. He sighed, mechanically grabbing his clothes and dressing himself. He opened the door to his room, stepped out, and rejoined the barroom below.

All at once, Markus was hit with the thick smell of alcohol and for a moment, he considered going back up into his room. After a thought of how he might be tempted to sleep again, he decided it was better for him to stay amidst the drunks.

Markus had arrived earlier that night to the Bloodseal Tavern, bought a room, and hoped to sleep peacefully, a hope he rarely had. With his hopes now shattered, he figured he'd just stay down here in the company of drunks for the rest of the night. He walked to a table, avoiding the glaring eyes of the few that remained in the tavern, and sat down. His gaze landed on the window, hoping to see dawn, but turned away from the moonlight. His thoughts turned to the inn. The Bloodseal Tavern had been interesting, he'd been avoided for the most part and he wasn't really complaining about that. The people here were shady, and he'd considered staying at the other inn in Taras, but knew that his lack of funds prevented that. Though now, with as late as it was, only a few, and those few were so drunk they hardly realized that they were even in a tavern.

Markus looked down at the table and rubbed his temples, hoping that the color had returned to his face; he didn't want to appear weak or frightened in this place. He looked up to see a maid standing over him, waiting impatiently for him to order. He forced a smile and asked for whatever was cheap and she left him with a smirk. His eyes found the door, but his mind was elsewhere, dipping in and out of memories and hoping that tonight would just end.

Oh by the gods, how she despised taverns. She’d been to the tavern in Kellen a few times recently, and she had been to the ones in Taras years ago. She had never tasted alcohol as drink itself; the only thing she had tasted it in was blood, and even then it wasn’t very appetizing and usually made her sick. There was absolutely no appeal to it for her, and the smell was enough to make her nauseous. Then again, that happened with most ‘human’ food. Plus, drunken people were either completely stupid, very violent, or just didn’t have a clue about anything, and Cordelia didn’t want to surround herself with those kinds of people. If someone needed to depend on a drink just to be themselves and act how they wanted, then they were just weak.

“We don’t have a choice, now do we, Emeric?” the vampire sighed and looked down at her velociraptor, placing a hand on her hip as she gazed at the Bloodseal Tavern before her. It was the last option… if anything, the stupid people in taverns were good enough to be a meal. While blood filled with alcohol was revolting, she could handle a tiny bit of it. Still, though, it wasn’t appetizing at all and it was a last resort. If anything, she would probably just skip out on eating tonight. Glancing at the will’o’whisp that she still hadn’t lost, she gestured around the corner to the alleyway next to the building. She would come out whenever she came out. The reptile and the glowing ball went off into the alley just as she had instructed. She usually left Emeric at home locked in the closet, but the poor thing was becoming emaciated and needed to eat. If he went off while she was in there she wouldn’t mind; and if he didn’t, then he could have the remnants of whoever she found – if she found anyone.

Few heads turned as she opened the door. As soon as the smell blasted at her, Cordelia almost went straight back out that door. Why was she coming here?! This was so stupid and desperate! Maybe she was stupid sometimes, but she certainly wasn’t desperate. Sighing, she closed the door behind her, making the decision to only breathe if it was necessary. It was too late too go back home. She had already come out all this way, and to leave now when Emeric still needed food and the will’o’whisp was doing whatever will’o’whisps do wouldn’t be very fair.

The vampire woman glanced around and ran a hair through her oddly short black hair before stepping inside fully, her boots clinking lightly against the wooden floor. She didn’t want to sit at the bar stools where people were bound to talk to her. Instead, she’d find a nice little table where she could observe everyone else. However, there weren’t any tables she really liked, except for one with a single man sitting there. Her face darkened slightly as she looked at him, remembering her experience with Verena at the tavern in Kellen. People never seemed to like her in these places, and frankly she didn’t want to get involved… but sitting down there and not talking just wasn’t possible for her. When there was something for her to pick on, she picked at it with all her might.

Cordelia moved over to the table, lacking a certain amount of grace someone might expect a woman to have. She pulled out the chair at the other side and sat down, stretching her long legs and putting her feet right on the table, folding her ankles. She rolled her shoulders and adjusted her back slightly so she wasn’t too uncomfortable before finally resting her arms over her stomach, her hands folding together. She peered over at the man across from her, lifting her eyebrows without much interest. At least he looked sober. “You look horrible,” she said dryly, clearly not caring very much. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” With that said Cordelia swung her legs off the table and pulled herself closer, resting her arms on the table and continuing to stare at him with her dark blue eyes. “Or maybe worse. Too much alcohol? Too little? Or is this place scarring a little thing like you? I thought people in taverns were supposed to be jolly… you’re ruining my image.” A smirk pulled at her lips. So what if it wasn’t her best? She always got a great deal of satisfaction from tearing others down.

Markus’ mind returned to reality as the door to the inn opened and a tall woman entered the inn. His smile that he had given the maid evaporated long before and now, though he tried visibly, he was unable to. She walked towards his table, his eyes looking at other empty tables before finally resting on her as she propped her feet up on the table he occupied. He had expected her to speak before sitting down; however, he almost wished that she hadn’t spoken at all. He attempted eye contact as she spoke, but found that he looking at the table a bit ashamed by what she was saying.

’Not the beaming pentacle of social life, but hey, who am I to complain? At least I have company now.’ He thought to himself.

Markus wasn’t sure if she was trying to intimidate him with words, or whether she was just being sarcastic. He assumed the former, due to her demeanor and the fact that there wasn’t the slightest sense of sarcasm in her voice, but the smirk threw him off. He eased his eyes back to hers, his grey eyes seeming dull by comparison to her dark blue ones. They seemed cold, but he finally pulled off a smile and spoke, “Horrible is an understatement and I’ve never been jolly,” he started, before stopping and thinking about how he meant that. It was a lie, he’d been happy before, but it was just a memory. He wasn’t really doing that bad now, but he didn’t want her to walk off, “but I’ll manage,” he continued.

Half a moment’s pause took place as a drunk slumped to the floor, snoring loudly behind Markus. He didn’t turn, he tried to keep eye contact as he spoke again, “I haven’t had a drink and there’s no such thing as too little. Honestly, I don’t want to wind up like this fool,” he gestured to the man behind him by tossing his head back, and I apologize for ruining your image.” He smirked, “but if I do recall, you came over to me, dear.” The smirk turned back into a smile.

Markus noticed briefly that the dank tavern didn’t smell quite as bad as it had a first. Perhaps more people were leaving, he wasn’t paying them any attention, or he was getting used to the smell. Of the three, he hoped all of them were playing a role. He didn’t let too much time pass before adding, “You ask a lot of questions for a stranger. I'm Markus, and what’s your name?” Simple exhange and hopefully she’d offer him an answer, without taking any offense to his statement. He wasn’t saying that she talked too much, just that she seemed overly friendly, without being friendly. Though he wasn’t sure if she’d just get up and leave, but then again, he wasn’t really ruining her image, his eyes scanned her evasively. She didn’t exactly look ‘jolly’ either, but he’d never tell her that; he actually found her to be rather interesting, something else he’d politely not tell her. His let his stare stay on the table, trying not to be a man that gaped at her, as he waited for her name.

Seeing him look down at the table, Cordelia almost started laughing. That was great! She loved it when people were too afraid to look at her. His eyes lifted after a time to meet hers, to which Cordelia responded by merely staring right into the gray colored irises. How boring; gray was a good color for wearing, but it was such an uninteresting color for eyes. Blue was a much, much better color.

When he began speaking, the vampire lady truly wished she hadn’t sat with him. In fact, she even regretted leaving her home that night. She wasn’t a therapist, and she hadn’t even asked him how he was. Why was he telling her how depressed he was? Rolling her eyes, Cordelia leaned back into the chair and folded her arms over her chest, lifting an eyebrow at him. “I think you mistook what I said…” she started slowly, her words coming smoothly with a cruel edge. “I didn’t intend to sound like I cared.” Of all the people she could have run into that night, she had to meet up with the depressed one. She wasn’t going to put up with it and she certainly wasn’t going to listen to his problems and try to help him. No one had helped her through her own depression, so why should she help anyone else?

Her face contorted into a look of disgust as the man behind him fell, her upper lip lifting slightly and wrinkling the skin around her nose. That had to be exhibit A when it came to her reasons why she hated taverns. People got drunk and sick and no one could foresee how people would act with alcohol in their systems.

“but if I do recall, you came over to me, dear.”

Her eyebrows arched downward, her former look of disgust melting into one of offense. It seemed like he wasn’t going to let her forget that if she decided to stay and chat with him. That was fine, though; she had her ways of silencing people. “Mmm, forgive me, then, but I didn’t really want to sit with the drunks and you were the only one who looked sober.” Her eyes moved to the exact people she was talking about before returning to the man before her. “If you don’t like my presence, you can move.” She wasn’t getting up. She was already comfortable; why should she have to get up and sit with people who she knew she abhorred without even ever having met? If she had to sit with them, she might end up getting violent, and she had a feeling no one in this place wanted that.

“You ask a lot of questions for a stranger. I'm Markus, and what’s your name?”

“Such a bland name…” she said under her breath, though hopefully loud enough for him to hear as well. Bland name, boring colored eyes, and depressed sort of personality… this meeting was going to be hardly eventful. Cordelia liked calmness some times, but the least he could do was not be so friendly. Was he so deep in his misery that he wouldn’t even tell what an insult was? “Cordelia,” she said after a time. “Now do you have a last name? Or should I stay under the impression that you just didn’t have a family?” Granted, she hadn’t given her last name either, but she had only done that because he hadn’t given her his.

Markus tried very hard to not be visibly annoyed by her blatant rudeness; he hadn’t even known this woman for any extended period of time and he already felt like she saw him as an enemy. He looked away for a moment, to gather his thoughts and not give her any ground. Perhaps, friendly wasn’t the approach for everyone. He thought about this for a moment, and he felt as if he should treat her the same way that he was treating her. He wasn’t much for reciprocation, but the way she was adding to his already foul mood made him not want to stress himself on attempting to be happy with her. Just before he spoke, he thought for a moment, considering what to say. She had made him reconsider being nice, a feat that he wasn’t sure anyone else had been able to do since his departure from his home. His moved his eyes back to her and glared at her for a moment, the smile disappearing as he spoke, “I don’t recall ever asking you to care, or wanting you to. Normally I’d talk to the wall, but you got in the way. You don’t seem to have much of a heart anyways,” He doubted that would insult her, he smirked, “but I assume you’d take that as a compliment.” He felt guilty almost instantly after saying the words, but there was no way to take them back and he wasn’t about to go back on them. He attempted to show nothing more than apathy through the smile that he gave her.

She had seemed angered by Markus reminding her that she had come to him; her reasons were legitimate. It was the same reasons that he had preferred to sit alone and not amongst the idiotic drunkards. “I’m not saying that I mind your company at all, it’s just,” he ventured to make a statement about her, “you seem annoyed by just being here.” He hoped that sounded a bit nicer than his first statement; he was a bit conflicted on how to act with her, something else that he hoped he concealed behind a slight smile fused with a smirk.

Markus decided to ignore the remark about his name, it’s not like it was his choice, so why should it offend him? Besides, he had always thought names to be meaningless labels that people put on others to address them by. That was their purpose, though some disagreed with him believing them to be meaningless. However, he had to admit, her name was a bit more exotic that his own. He supposed that what she might’ve been by suggesting that his own name was ‘bland.’ She had asked for his last name and his smile turned into a frown. It wasn’t like she would know who he was by his last name, but he could never be sure. He had wanted to stay hidden from everyone and withholding a last name, was a defense that he was planning on keeping, “I’m afraid you’re right,” he said slowly, his frown remaining, “I don’t have a family.” He pretended, hopefully not too much, to be hurt by the mere mentioning of his family by adding, “But it’s not like you care, you said so yourself.”

Markus wasn’t sure how he felt about her. Yes, she had tried to insult him without even knowing him, but there was that insistent feeling within him to forgive her. He knew it was just this chivalrous ways and he cursed the old gods for making him that way through his worship. He hadn’t let the conversation stay silent for too long when he went ahead and spoke again, “So, if you don’t want to be here, which is clear by your attitude, then why are you?” His frown faded into a smirk as he waited for her to answer, not that he expected much from the cryptic Cordelia.

Cordelia couldn’t help but grin as he mentioned her being heartless. It was a very true statement indeed; having a heart only made things difficult and frankly, she loved the way she was. While acting compassionate and kind wasn’t impossible for her, it was a hard feat for her to accomplish, unless of course the subject was about Kaiden or any other child. “It is a compliment,” she assured him, her grin only widening and turning all the more wicked. “Nice to see someone who’s actually smart around this place, I’ll give you that.” It was as much of a return as she could give, even though there was a sarcastic edge to it. At least he didn’t seem to be obsessed with goodness and could tell that being ‘evil’ pleased her, though Cordelia was still a bit confused as to why he wasn’t giving her more of a reaction. Most people got fussy and upset as soon as she opened her mouth… and she wasn’t quite sure if she should be glad or not, that he wasn’t behaving like that.

“you seem annoyed by just being here.”

“Congratulations, what sort of prize would you like for such an apparent observation?” Cordelia rolled her eyes. What was the point of stating the obvious? Sure, she did it sometimes, but it was either just to be plain annoying or because other people couldn’t see it. “Who could actually be happy in a place like this? You don’t seem too bright yourself you know, but we already established that.” Cordelia was always a grouchy vampire, and there was a part of her that hoped he realized that the tavern wasn’t the only thing making her act like this. The atmosphere did make her a bit more cynical, but not so much that it really made a difference.

And there he went, frowning and going on about how he didn’t have a family. That seemed normal for a lot of people here. Either they didn’t have family, or people killed them off dramatically. She wasn’t really in a position to judge anyone else when it came to not having a great family, but she did it anyway. She didn’t get along with her own family, which had been why she had changed her last name and walked away from them. Her thoughts had drifted off, causing her gaze to avert from Markus’, until he mentioned her not caring. “Nope, I don’t really,” she said. “Boohoo, you don’t have a family – well a lot of other people don’t either, so I suggest you just cheer up a bit. You’re not special at all and I don’t think I’m the only one who doesn’t care.”

“So, if you don’t want to be here, which is clear by your attitude, then why are you?”

There were reasons for that that she didn’t want to disclose. She couldn’t just go on and ramble about how her pet lizard needed to eat and she had left him outside to take care of that, and she couldn’t mention how she wanted to eat as well, since her way of eating was much different than anyone else’s in this tavern. She simply stared at him, letting silence fill the space between them as she rolled over thoughts in her head. Decisions, decisions. She had a feeling he hadn’t caught on to the fangs that showed when she grinned or laughed, since most people always had to take time to mention them. Then again, he wasn’t acting like most people that she had met, so she had a feeling she shouldn’t jump to conclusions with him.

Even so, it wasn’t like she could trust him, either. Boring as he may be, if he acted so bizarrely, she couldn’t treat him like the crazy nitwits she always came across. “I came to eat.” She thought it worked, though the response did come a little late. It made sense, and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell what she had planned on eating that night. “But I do believe I’ve lost my appetite, since this place isn’t very… eh, I don’t have a word.” She simply shrugged her shoulders. “And I would leave, but it would be just so very terribly rude to leave when we’re in the middle of a conversation, wouldn’t it? You said you didn’t mind my company, so…” Cordelia shrugged once more. She was having fun in this abnormal meeting, and since he didn’t care if she stayed or left, she figured she just might as well stay.

Before he was even able to make a comment back, Markus had discovered something that shocked him about this woman. Her grin had revealed something to him; not only was she actually able to smile, but two pointed fangs made themselves clear, if only for an instant. He smirked and was proud of himself for actually noticing, but felt a bit stupid for not putting two and two together beforehand. Things made a little bit more sense now. The agitated demeanor, the outfit, the rudeness, the apathy, all of it, as far as Markus was concerned was a direct result of her vampirism. If she had met him only a year ago, he would’ve instantly attempted to kill her without any regard for who she was; he would’ve wanted her dead because of what she was. It was no secret that clerics, mostly good, but sometimes even evil ones, despised both the undead and vampires. He strained to keep his composure while he thought and while she spoke.

‘I’m not a cleric anymore though, and even if I was, would I really hate this woman? he didn’t even answer her first response; he just let her keep talking as he stayed silent. ‘Sure, she’s rude and evil, but is she really that bad? She’s… unique’ He found himself confused, but decided to post-pone the thoughts to when he wasn’t in the middle of conversation.

Markus waited until she finished her tirade on his obvious statement before replying, trying to keep his eyes off her mouth, “No one could be happy,” he said simply before adding, “especially with you keeping some of them from being that way” Again, he assumed that she would take this as a compliment, knowing that she most likely took pleasure in sucking the happiness out of people, he smirked at the thought, ‘Maybe it’s in her blood.'

Markus chose to ignore the comment about his family; it’s not like he cared much for them and it’s not like she did either. Besides, he wanted to avoid her asking anymore questions or making anymore comments about them. He had let them die to him long ago, his heart was numb to them and any thoughts of them were dismissed. Then she answered his question and his blood ran cold. Normally the response, ‘I came to eat,’ would be just another normal answer to a normal question. Though he knew, from his observations that she didn’t plan on eating the same thing that he would eat. He smirked, knowing that ‘lost my appetite’meant that he wasn’t to offer her any of the food that he might eat, or to avoid the obvious question of why she had asked for nothing. He ignored the rest of what she said, because he knew what she wanted:

Blood. She wants blood. She’s here for blood.

Markus glanced over his shoulder at some of the drunkards. Would she feed on them? He returned his gaze, accidentally to her mouth. Or would she feed on him? There was a slight look of shame in his eyes and he found himself looking back into her eyes. His eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled into a grin, and he purposely asked, hoping she would assume that he knew, “Speaking of food, I’m just curious,” he figured he’d ask something that most people ask. The typical random first conversation question, “What’s your favorite food?” he felt different after asking it, as if he were waiting for her to open herself and admit it, like it was some sin. But, he realized that, despite the piousness he felt, he was interested in her, and what she was. He felt that he wanted to sin, it was in his nature now; but instead he just waited, curious as to how she would respond.

Not only had she taken note of his silence, but she had also noticed him glancing at her mouth. She wasn’t blind, nor was she stupid – she knew when others had figured out what she was. There was no doubt in her mind that he had seen the two elongated canines, since they weren’t all too hard to miss when she made certain actions. From here on out, she had a feeling things had the potential to get interesting. Even if he didn’t behave the same way as everyone else, Cordelia was hoping that him knowing she was undead would have some sort of effect. It wasn’t every day that normal little mortals met the undead.

“especially with you keeping some of them from being that way”

Cordelia had to laugh at that. It was a dark, low sort of laugh, obviously very sadistic. Others would be offended, but she didn’t find offense at the truth. The only thing that puzzled her was just how easily he was able to read her. Was she just that predictable? Or did he have some other way of knowing? She didn’t believe that he was stereotyping her, since she didn’t exactly feel she belonged to any sort of group. She was herself, and no one else could compare to her. “It makes me happy to see their pain…” she giggled before sighing. “Everyone deserves it, wouldn’t you agree?” There was a possibility he would disagree, since most others did. Whether he was in accordance with her thoughts didn’t matter, though; Cordelia knew she was right. Everyone had done something in their life that could be punishable by death, and if not, then that just proved how unfair the world was. She was a bringer of judgment and injustice, and had been so for seventeen years, and she didn’t plan on turning around anytime soon. There wasn’t a point in changing when she had been born with this beautiful disease. People couldn’t escape their genetics.

“What’s your favorite food?”

Cordelia wasn’t blind; she had seen that smirk, the look of shame, and she had seen him looking at her mouth once more. She wished she could read other peoples minds; she would have loved to see what he was thinking. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have that ability, but it would have been great to use. Just the thought of all the things she could blackmail people with made her feel fluffy inside. She had to get to the point though. “Must you stare at me? I know I’m pretty, but come on, don’t act like you’ve never seen a woman before.”

However, he soon asked that question… and while it didn’t necessarily catch her off guard, she hadn’t been expecting it. Her head tilted to the side a little bit, and she pulled her chair in all the more closer to the table, her left elbow coming to rest on the surface with her forearm sticking straight up, while her right arm laid flat on the table top. She rested her chin on her left wrist while her right fingers began to tap lightly against the wooden surface.

She had a choice to make here. He had to have known by now what she was – and if he didn’t then it was just a shame, because she had expected more with the intelligence he had shown – so would it really make a difference if she said the truth or not? But, then again, if he indeed didn’t know, she didn’t really think it would be wise to come out and say it. While she did want a reaction, she didn’t need the whole tavern knowing and then causing her trouble. A response soon came to her mind that wouldn’t reveal anything, and she couldn’t help but smirk at her cleverness. “I don’t think it matters, especially to someone like you. It’s nothing more than food – do you expect me to be picky? But, no matter, if you wish to know, then you can go ahead and… guess.”

Oh, she was just so good!

Markus, though he continued to keep his composure on the outside, was very much at war with himself on the inside. He also found it increasingly difficult to maintain the lie on the exterior, the more that he fought himself. He hadn’t realized how impressionable he was; within a matter of days after arriving at Taras, he was already beginning to question himself. Was his godless path of light really the choice? Or were the blood gods of darkness what was truly destined for him? He hadn’t expected the questions to come so fast, and now that they had, he was becoming overwhelmed. However, he couldn’t show her that he was struggling; if he were, then she might take advantage of his predicament and find a way to influence him even more.

Markus slowly drifted back to the conversation after she laughed, focusing on what she said after. He thought about it for a moment, the memory of the sacrifice flooding back to him. He had once done it to retain his honor, to avoid a fight his family didn’t want, to avoid his own death. Fear and honor; was that what the gods of light taught? Or was all of this just the dark gods’ taint in his mind? He didn’t have time to decide before he blurted out, “I suppose I do.” He had agreed with her, and after he had done so, he had smiled. People deserved pain? He hadn’t agreed with her completely, because his mind told him that what he had really meant was that the gods deserved pain.

Markus found that after he agreed, he was a bit more comfortable in his mind; he doubted that would be the last struggle, but now it was over and he had drifted from his ways, if only slightly. She had caught him staring, and he almost apologized for it, but instead rolled his eyes and said cooly, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re beautiful; I’ll give you that, but don’t pretend that you’re the only beautiful woman.” He was satisfied with that answer, though he didn’t ignore that she had avoided his question; he gave her time to answer it.

And Cordelia did; but not providing any conclusive answers. This conversation to him was almost like a traditional dance, one made a move and the other countered, but when the song was finished, they both stood in the same spot. All that he could hope for was a move that she couldn’t counter. He found her witty and intelligent and so he hoped to use that to his advantage, “It does matter, believe me, I’m interested,” he said sardonically, throwing a hand up to wave away a wisp of smoke. He glanced down at the man who had fallen; he laid there, smoking. Markus scowled, looked back at her, and continued, “I’m sure you can’t be that picky. Perhaps, if you would tell me, I could get you some.” The move was to tempt her obviously, into at least bringing it out into the open; the cryptic charade was surprisingly fun though. He was actually still deciding what he really wanted to do, but he mind as well give her the offer. Surely she didn’t want to feed on the drunken men, and once again, his heart pulled at him to mock his old gods. He grinned and rubbed his neck, “I mean, you look starved,” he finished, his tone faking compassion and was laden with sarcasm.

‘Just a bit of you, coming from me.’ He thought to himself as waited for her move.

For obvious reasons, Cordelia wouldn’t see his internal struggle, though she did feel a bit of tension. An eyebrow rose slightly and she straightened herself slightly, perplexed by the feeling she was getting. She decided to shrug it off, though, since it wasn’t important. She really didn’t care about what he was feeling. Her eyes widened slightly, though not by a hugely noticeable amount, when he finally answered her and agreed. The vampire woman had hardly expected such a peculiar response. Something along the lines of ‘everyone deserves to be happy and have a life, blah blah blah blah’ had been what she would have predicted, but agreeing? She removed her left wrist from under her chin and placed it on the table with her right arm, folding her hands together before leaning back a little in her chair. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that answer. She had been ready to give a whole speech on why she was right, but now that he shared the same views, she couldn’t really do that.

“Oh,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth in a quiet, stunned tone. She was embarrassed that she had been caught so off guard and still couldn’t shake the shock away. She turned her head away from him to look at the other side of the building and shifted in her seat. All right, this needed to stop – she was Cordelia Marion Brooks, she wasn’t supposed to get this worked up over something so simple! Her eyes shot back to Markus quickly and locked on his face as she returned her attention to him. “Such a sadistic thing you are,” she said, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “I have to wonder what happened to you for you to think that.” For her, the reason behind why she thought such things wasn’t too hard to figure out. Figuring him out would have been much easier if he would just slip up on his words; all she could gather from him was that he was mortal and around her age, and that was hardly useful.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re beautiful; I’ll give you that, but don’t pretend that you’re the only beautiful woman.”

All the statement received was a snort. It wasn’t very pertinent to the conversation right now. They were talking about their beliefs, not how pretty she was. That was an apparent thing and didn’t exactly need recognition, though his agreement did boost her already sky-high self-esteem. Smart as he was, he didn’t seem to be able to understand that compliments would probably only make her behavior worse.

And there was that food subject again. Cordelia smirked a little bit, unable to stop her muscles from responding in such a way. This was like a game of chess, except it required much less thinking. Comments like these needed to be analyzed thoroughly, because otherwise things had the potential to get messy. She laughed quietly when he mentioned wanting to get her whatever food it was that she wanted. This was just too fun! The earlier part of the conversation had been a bit odd, but this was much more enjoyable to talk about. Sending the statements back and forth like trying to capture pieces until finally one of them was cornered… and Cordelia had to make sure the one that was cornered wouldn’t be herself. “Anyone else in this place could get it for me too, you know…” she said smoothly. “That guy smoking on the floor could, the people at the stools could, the bar keeper serving drinks… so why should I tell you anything, and further more, why should I let it be you?” Her eyebrows lifted and her smirk widened considerably. That statement right there would hopefully help her with plenty. It would tell her whether he knew or not, and it would possibly help her make up her mind as to if she had really lost her appetite.

“I mean, you look starved.”

“I don’t appreciate that tone,” she corrected him as soon as the words finished spilling past his lips. “I’m quite healthy, thank you for not caring, and I’ve looked much worse.” Both were the complete truth. At that point she simply took a deep breath and closed her eyes for just a moment, reviewing everything that had been said. Her eyes reopened a moment later, appearing a bit calmer but not losing the strength they always held.

Markus was lucky and relieved to find that he had pulled off keeping his composure. He also was relieved to notice that he had in fact made a bit of progress. Cordelia, he had assumed, was always prepared to hear his response, expect him to say what every other human she may have came across to say. Even the evil ones could be predictable, and he knew that; though he was rather proud of himself. He knew she was a vampire, he had discovered that she truly was sadistic and evil, and found out that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, all within this short period that they exchanged responses. What had she found out about him? He was ‘polite’ at first and now loosening up a bit, a young child could learn that, so in essence, she knew nothing. She might’ve even believed that he didn’t have a family, which he assumed from her response. He was sure of himself about her though, and with that thought, he decided he would save the smile that he wanted to put on until she said something else to him. So, he smiled after she called him sadistic, it fit there more than it did after her ‘oh.’ “Sadistic?” he acted a bit shocked, moving his hand from his neck back to the table. He leaned in and added, “I can honestly say that I’ve never heard one before, but label me however you want.” It was sarcasm and it was a bold faced lie; he had meant it as such. He’d been called many things: butcher, murderer, et cetera. He leaned back, imitating her relaxed demeanor.

She apparently thought rather highly of herself, because she ignored Markus’ mentioning her beauty, to an extent. He had expected it; however he hadn’t expected her to leave it alone. He smirked; she wasn’t like most women who thought highly of themselves. Normally they’d take that and boost themselves even higher by going on and on about their own beauty. ’But not her,’ he thought to himself, ’Well, she’s ignoring it, so I should move on I suppose.’ He didn’t want to, but he did.

Markus considered her comment for a moment, giving the guy on the floor another look. He seemed to be at an impasse and considered making a response that would give away his suspicions. They were more than suspicions, he knew, but then again he didn’t really. The pause lasted too long though, she moved on to dismissing his suggesting that she was unhealthy. He hadn’t honestly meant it like that, and hopefully she knew this; she had to have caught his sarcasm. She did and he knew, so he came back to the more important part of the conversation, choosing to let her think that her undead skin looked ‘healthy.’

She closed her eyes, perhaps frustrated. She didn’t give Markus any more time to think about it before she looked back at him again, still as calm as ever. He figured he might lure her again, though this time offering a bit more. His temptation grew the more that he tempted her; he was made aware of this and he thought it ironic. He spoke slowly careful not to give away completely that he knew, “I doubt that they really,” he stopped for a moment, adding an intentional pause and looked up as if he were thinking of the word. He dropped his gaze back to hers, “want to,” he continued,“Sure, you’re lovely, but you’d be asking a lot out of them, if you catch my drift.” He beamed inwardly at his cleverness. He had gotten everything he wanted, a good response, nothing really concrete, and a compliment.

Markus stopped himself from smiling, ’You’re not polite anymore.’ His face twisted into an awkward smirk, trying his best not to smile. He was beginning to actually appreciate her company. He’d never mention that to her though; as that thought passed, his smirk became genuine.

Judging by what he said, he seemed a bit shocked that she had called him sadistic. He moved in closer, though Cordelia stayed right where she was. As long as he didn’t get close enough to invade her personal bubble, she had no need to move away from him. As the next words came out of him, it appeared to her that he hadn’t really been shocked. Sarcasm was such a lovely tool to use in conversation; it was one of her favorites! “Sadistic is quite fitting for those who think others deserve to die, you know,” she said, “and the sarcasm shows you’re lying to me, which I don’t really appreciate. It’s not like it matters, but really, I’d prefer not to have to throw something at you so how about you try and be nice like you were before, hmm?” That had been a bit of a ramble, but she couldn’t say she cared.

There was a part of her that didn’t really want him to be polite again, because she really didn’t want him to be like the others. There were the people who immediately got flustered when faced with people like her and had to correct everything about her, there were the people who simply allowed her to walk over them, and then there were the people like Markus who adjusted themselves to the situation at hand and returned every attack she brought on. If he went back to being a goodie-nice-guy, the amount of fun she was having that evening would drop incredibly. It was nice going back and forth between the offense and defense of a conversation, not just staying on one side. Verbal battles were so much more enjoyable than physical ones; there were just so many more things that a person could do and there wasn’t always a winner.

“I doubt that they really… want to.”

An eyebrow rose as soon as he said that. He’d just confirmed her beliefs about him thinking she was a vampire with that simple statement. If he didn’t know that she drank blood, then he wouldn’t have said that the other people in this place wouldn’t have wanted to. However, a smirk crossed her lips as she came up with a response that wouldn’t have them going back and forth on the same exact thing. She could have asked ‘and why wouldn’t they?’, but no, she was going to go for something much more interesting. Much, much more interesting. “Are you saying that you do?” she inquired, her face darkening and her tone become increasingly serious. “You didn’t exactly include yourself in your statement.”

She just couldn’t wait to hear whatever he had to say to that! Cordelia knew he would immediately decline the invitation, probably too scared for his life. It was a sad thought indeed; he would probably just go and say he didn’t know what she was talking about and that he didn’t want to do anything of the sort. It didn’t matter what anyone in this place wanted when it came to her hunger, but she had really been wasting her breath with this meeting if he wound up saying no. There was a single fiber of her being that believed he might just do the opposite of what she expected, since he had done that so many times already, but this was a matter of life and death here; not a matter of talking about life and death. There was a huge difference.

“Sure, you’re lovely, but you’d be asking a lot out of them, if you catch my drift.”

She simply rolled her eyes. “Enough now on my appearance – it’s getting boring.” Cordelia didn’t need to hear it anymore. She loved when people said something about her personality, since it was really the spark to who she was, but appearances mattered very little in life and she didn’t want to keep discussing it. “Besides, do you think it really matters how much I’m asking and if they even care? I always get what I want.” That made her sound spoiled, and really it was a lie. She hadn’t always gotten what she had wanted in life; if she had, she would have been somewhere else taking care of a little family, not in a tavern playing a metaphorical sort of chess. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t seem to me like you think I’m asking much, according to what you said earlier. But we’re going in circles, I do believe, and I don’t like beating around the bush… so let’s get right down to it and be straightforward. Do you truly and fully understand what I am, or are you simply suspicious? Because really, it’s getting old, and I’d prefer you ask if you don’t know by now…”

Just a few more moves. All these questions were beginning to give her a slight headache, though hunger played a bit of a part in it. She hoped they could just be flat out now, because while games were fun, they only stayed fun for a certain amount of time until a certain vampire lost her patience.

Markus attempted to hold in a laugh when she stated that he was lying, but found himself unable to. It wasn’t a boisterous or obnoxious laugh, nothing that was meant to make her feel anything. He considered it to be more of snicker, but he didn’t think it mattered; she wouldn’t think anything of it. He let her to finish yet another tirade before offering her another playful smirk. He countered, “Now who’s the one stating the obvious? And I don’t really need you to preach to me about lying or being nice,” he cringed at the word ‘preach’ and added, “You aren’t the shining representation of holy yourself.” He hoped she would take this as a compliment; she’d taken all of the other things that most people took wrongly as such. Besides, she was a vampire; they loved being unholy, right? He realized that he was able to discover that she was a vampire, but other than that, he knew nothing about them. Just legends: the sunlight issue, the pale skin, the blood, all that. But when it came to actually knowing one, and what they thought, what they felt… he found that he was in the dark.

Markus had hoped that she would avoid that question and instead move past that to the part about why they wouldn’t, but instead she had asked that question. The question that he had been asking himself and it was at this point where he had to answer it. Of course, he could just avoid it, but he knew that avoiding the question would translate into a no. He could post-pone it, but if she discovered that he did that, the she could, if she wanted, translate that as a yes. He felt trapped in the conversation; and he felt like he was making her wait with his silence. What would she say if he said no? Would she move in for it anyways? Or would she actually consider his wishes and feed on one of the lowlifes that didn’t deserve it? And what if he said yes? Would she actually be willing to do it? She may be hungry, she may have come here to feed, but did she really want to feed on a willing host? He assumed that was part of the thrill for her, trapping a victim that never asked to be a victim. Is that how she became one? All these questions delayed his answer; he didn’t want to annoy her by making her wait so he finally let his reply slip, “Depends, actually.” He thought for a moment, gathering his questions into statements for a possible continuation, should she ask more, “I’m interested, but it’s not like we’re discussing theory here.” He thought of how she would take that. “We can talk about it more in a minute,” he said, hoping that was enough of an answer as he glanced over his shoulder at the people around, “somewhere else preferably.” He knew this would surprise her. Besides, he was human, and what sane person wanted to be a vampire? He knew the answer. One that was bitter, and that was all the reason she might need.

She didn’t take kindly to Markus’ second compliment; which he had officially dubbed a mistake. He figured compliments might work, but not if they were ones directed at her physique. She had also made herself sound rather spoiled; he thought of people she might’ve fed on forcefully. He didn’t mean to doubt her at all, but for some reason, he couldn’t wrap his mind around her taking down a much larger target. He didn’t put it past her though, she had surprised him once, and she could do so again. Then, she was brutally straightforward. He spoke simply, with a grin, “I’m not blind. And you’re not stupid; as a matter of fact, you’re very intelligent. You know that I know. It took me a moment, after a grin, but I know. It suits you and I find it, intriguing.” He hoped those compliments might fare better than ones directed at her body. “Do you have a preference? I know you don’t want to make a scene here I’m sure. I,” he ventured slowly, “have a room, but don’t get the wrong impression, I want to discuss it. At least it’s private enough.” He wasn’t sure whether this would be his doom or not, but he just wanted to talk, right? This would take trust on his part. He sat upright and added, “What do you say?”

“You aren’t the shining representation of holy yourself.”

“Frankly I’m glad,” Cordelia said earnestly. “To be holy means to be boring and arrogant.” So she was stereotyping… but it was hard for her to really explain what she meant beyond that. People who were holy and good never gave themselves another perspective and were always out to smite others and their injustices to make the world a better place. But, in doing that, didn’t that make them just as bad as the people like her? She had her own view of the greater good and holy people had theirs; all they wanted was for people to smile and be happy, but people could never know what it really meant to be happy unless there was pain and despair. “Granted, I’ll admit I’m arrogant… but I’d rather be interesting and arrogant than be completely predictable.”

The silence that followed her question didn’t come as a surprise. Anyone would have been caught off guard by her assuming that, though once again she didn’t really sense the internal conflict. Cordelia simply waited, staring at him with her patience ticking away like sands through an hourglass. One by one the grains of patience fell from the upper half of the glass, making her more and more agitated. Did it really take so long to reply to a stupid question? Honestly, she almost might have preferred for him to have just screamed out a response as soon as she had spoken. She was about ready to ridicule him for his lack of a response until she heard two little words in his voice. She should have expected him to not go with what she had previously believed, and there was a portion of her that was quite relieved that he wasn’t, but another that was even more disturbed. What sort of person even contemplated being a vampire…? She had never had a choice, having been born as one, and while she wouldn’t have taken that back for anything she still didn’t see why anyone would willingly change themselves.

He went on to mention that he wanted to talk about it somewhere else, which only made it worse. “Whoa, whoa, wait a second there kiddo…” she said, lifting a hand off the table. “You might be willing, but who said I was?” Her eyebrows knitted in frustration as she tried to figure this out. He was willing to do this… it was like he was giving himself to her. Where was the fun in that? There wouldn’t be a struggle, or screams, or begging and pleading to be spared. All in all, there would be nothing to drive her to actually commit the deed except for her hunger. Even so, as the seconds continued to pass she decided maybe it would be intriguing to discuss this somewhere else where they didn’t have to worry about being overheard. Being cryptic and secretive was only making this whole thing worse. “Fine, fine, fine. But don’t expect any guarantees.” It was just a warning. Cordelia could change her mind on a whim, and commitments had never really been her strong point, so that boy better not get his hopes up.

“I’m not blind. And you’re not stupid; as a matter of fact, you’re very intelligent. You know that I know. It took me a moment, after a grin, but I know. It suits you and I find it, intriguing.”

Oooh she loved it when people told her those things! She was stubborn, intelligent, witty, clever, cruel and merciless… the list of such wonderful adjectives went on and on. Hearing things like that never got old; she loved herself and her personality. There was no one else like her, and there never had been before and there never would be. She was the only person who could act as she would… and while it may have been a bit self-absorbed, in her own mind it was the truth. She mere grinned and shrugged her shoulders, stretching them a little bit. “I know, I know…” she giggled. “I’m amazing. It did take you a moment, didn’t it? Just because I can hide it so well.” Okay, she needed to stop – she was actually being nice, and it was burning whatever sort of soul she could have had. Acting so out of character was a weakness, really, and she needed to get back on track.

“I… have a room, but don’t get the wrong impression, I want to discuss it. At least it’s private enough.”

The first three words made her face turn to an absolute look of anger. Clearly, she had interpreted them the wrong way, but as he went on she figured he had enough of a reason for it. A room would be private, and probably better than going outside. People could overhear out in the open, just as well as they could overhear right in this room. Cordelia contemplated for a moment, tapping her fingers against the top of the table. Not only was it a matter of trust for him, but for her as well. She doubted he would try anything; she was the one who held the advantage here. All she had to do was bite him and it would be the end of his pathetic little existence. Cordelia stood up, the legs of the chair sliding back smoothly, albeit with a decent amount of noise. “Good enough, I suppose; it isn’t like there’s anywhere else in this dump. You’d better make this whole thing worth my time.” Her eyes narrowed threateningly before she stepped away from the table, sweeping her arms to the side of her that led to the stairs in a gesture that basically told him to lead the way.

As Markus had assumed, she had basically taken unholy as a compliment. She would never admit it, and he would never admit it too her, he found that she was in fact, the very thing she didn’t want to be: predictable. Though, he had kept his mental guard up each time, hiding what he could, knowing that he could never really trust her to do what she said she was going too. Then again, she hadn’t done anything at all, just talked, insulted, and been herself. However, now that he was asking action out of her, he knew that he would have to be a bit more aware. He had grown accustomed to her, but he would still have to be wary; after all, she was a vampire and she had admitted to being evil. He’d always taken evil to be untrustworthy, but now that he looked back on the conversation, had she said anything that he thought was a lie? He didn’t say anything, considering this part of the conversation to be dead anyways, compared to the subject of the other parts, so he said nothing.

She seemed surprised by his answer; he smirked as it almost seemed that she felt uncomfortable for the first time Then she tried to slow things down, as if he hadn’t sat here the entire conversation since contemplating whether her should actually go through with his urges or not. He almost laughed when she suggested that she wasn’t willing. Then again she might be hesitant; he’d not thought of that. Did vampirism not create these urges for blood? Or did she want more out of victims than just their blood? Markus considered declining the offer now, and just looking for some other means of contracting the disease. He seemed a bit uneasy, hoping that he hadn’t spoken too soon, but he was relieved for her to assure him without giving him any guarantees. It was strange how she did so, she told him not to expect any, but he was. Besides, she had given him no reason not to believe her. The issue of trusting came up again, but he dismissed it, already deciding to trust her enough to talk to her privately. “I see,” was all he said.

Markus smile as she took his compliments; he finally had her figured out on that front, after two other failed attempts. It was something that he liked about her, something that made her more attractive than the average woman. Even if she didn’t have to concern herself with her appearance, she was already comfortable with it, and she knew she was beautiful and didn’t need some man to remind her. He smirked, she just wanted to be told that her other attributes, her mind more than anything, was amazing. Which it was, he had come to believe, and he wanted to tell her that he thought so, but he didn’t want to seem like he was trying to be nice again. Being nice had gotten him nowhere, agreeing with her and her sadistic mind had gotten him here. “You are indeed; you do hide it well, one would never assume.” He was surprised that she’d actually been friendly there for a moment, and he wanted to take advantage of it; however he didn’t. He assumed she was acting, all of this could be acting, and he was prepared for that.

Markus had halfway expected her to decline his invitation, but then again, he was sure she never came across a willing victim. He followed suit, standing up as she did, and following her gesture up the stairs. He assumed she would follow so he never turned around. Markus walked down the dim hallway, lit only be a single lamp, to his room. It seemed much darker now that he realized what this possibly meant, but he didn’t think much of it. He opened his door and stepped inside his room. The room was a mess, but it wasn’t like she would care; the sheets of his bed were still thrown to the floor. It was evident that he’d been sweating in his sleep; the stench filled the room and the pillows were still wet, even after all the time he’d spent downstairs. This might’ve bothered her; he didn’t know so he turned and apologized anyways, “Try not to mind the mess, I had some issues. I doubt you will, but I figured I’d at least say that,” he realized that he’d been nice and followed his chivalrous urges again, but he didn’t care. He hoped that they would die with him tonight, if he chose to do this. “So,” he said with finality, “tell me about vampires.”

Cordelia ignored what he said about no one ever assuming, since her response would only be repetitive. That subject was no longer important to this conversation anyway, so she let it slip away. It was strange, though, that he was being so… agreeable. He had agreed with the fact that people deserved pain and multiple other things throughout their conversation. Looking back at that fact, she had to wonder whether or not it was a charade. He could have very well have been just going along with everything she was saying to avoid confrontation, in which case he wasn’t as different as she would have thought he was. She would have to stay aware, then, because she didn’t want to get involved with someone who was nothing more than a lie.

As he walked to the stairs, the vampire followed him, her eyes staring into the back of his body. Another reason to hate taverns: they were absolutely cheap. Honestly, couldn’t they have put another lantern or two in the hallway? It wasn’t like she wanted or needed it, but other people who couldn’t see as well in the dark could trip and break their necks. That didn’t really concern her, and she really didn’t care if the place went out of business because of it, but still… people were just so stupid. She shook her head at the thought and sighed, relieved that they had finally reached Markus’ room. Thank goodness.

The moment he opened the door, she was blasted by the wretched, ruthless stench. Cordelia took a single step outside back into the hall. It was a bit over dramatic, but she didn’t really care – she thought it was completely necessary and called for. Once she had regained her composure, she slowly stepped back into the room, closing the door before going to the window and throwing it open. This place needed some circulation! “A warning would have been nice, you know,” she hissed before turning to actually look at the place. The hallway, even the floor below, would have been better than this room. While it was private, it was an absolute catastrophe. Her home wasn’t neat either, but at least it didn’t look like someone had been on a rampage.

“Try not to mind the mess, I had some issues. I doubt you will, but I figured I’d at least say that.”

Cordelia snorted as soon as he said that. “Issues? That’s an understatement at most.” She looked at the soaked pillows and the sheets on the floor, not taking a single move away from the window. “What the hell happened in here? Did a rat scurry by and scare you right out of your skin?” She was being half cruel, half serious when she said that. How anyone could make such a disastrous mess like that was beyond her. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know what had sparked this whole thing to happen. All that mattered was that something creepy had happened here and Markus was trying to pass it off as just a ‘mess’. She actually felt bad for the employees here who would have to clean this all up.

“tell me about vampires.”

She could have gone on about how there were no words to describe just how out of order the room was and given even more possibilities as to why it was like that, but Markus went right to the point. This was what their meeting was to be about, after all. Her eyes moved away from the bed, sheets, and pillows and went to the man. That had been so incredibly vague that it almost made her laugh. “Do you have no understanding whatsoever?” she asked, tilting her head a little bit as she leaned against the windowsill, sitting on it slightly with her ankles crossed. She was making herself as comfortable as she could in this revolting place. “You have no idea how naïve that sounds. Ah, let’s see… it depends on what you want to know, it isn’t like there’s some big secret to being a vampire. Paler skin, pretty little fangs… but those are the only external physical changes people go through. There’s living forever and never changing physically, but that isn’t too big of a deal. I’ve heard the internal changes and going through the mortal death is a lot worse, but luckily I wouldn’t know that from experience.” She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing. “Can’t allow our skin to be exposed to the sun, we suck blood, kill… nothing too interesting. There’s more I could tell you, but I don’t think you really need to know it, since you don’t want to become one; I don’t even see why you’d be interested in the first place.” Suddenly she bounced up, moving a few inches away from the window. Her right hand found its place on her hip and she stared directly at Markus, her eyes narrowing as she began to calculate things within her mind. “Or do you…?”

Markus just stood at the foot of the bed as she walked over to the window, threw it open, and got comfortable. She had made a bigger deal about the stench and the mess than he thought she would. Perhaps it was a pet-peeve of hers, or perhaps she was actually genuinely curious. He had picked up on the slight seriousness in her statement and thought of how he could answer without giving away too much. He thought about agreeing with her, but then again, a rat scaring him seemed unlikely when he was talking to a vampire and had no fear in him whatsoever. “What do you care?” he snapped angrily, surprising himself. It was the first thing she’d said to him that actually had gotten on his nerves, and after he said it that way, he regretted it. He hadn’t wanted to reveal much emotion throughout this encounter seeing as he feared that it would lead to her manipulating him. Would she toy with him, taunting him because he feared dreams? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, so he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said calmly, “If you don’t care, then don’t ask, because I’m not going to tell you. Just stay focused on the more important things.”

Markus doubted that she would let this go, considering the frustration that it caused him. He silently cursed, wondering how the vampire woman would mess with him, twist him, and try to get things out of him. Then again, he hoped that she would just leave it alone like he asked and tell him what he wanted to know. He was at a disadvantage in the conversation though, so if he had to reveal things about himself, he would. But why would she want to know if she didn’t care? Would she ridicule him? That was likely, but he wouldn’t really care. Her opinion of him was of little importance, he wanted something else.

She had told him what he had expected, but far from what he wanted. She had told him the typical lore that he had been taught back at the churches, but nothing more. No sunlight, he thought, that will be annoying. Killing, sucking blood, and all that, I suppose I’d get used to it. The first kill will be tough though, I assume.’ He left his thoughts as she moved towards him, hand on her hip, and asked him directly, similar to before, but more up-front. He thought about it, and he knew that he wanted to answer with a yes; this urge to commit this sin was beyond any other urge he’d ever felt before. But he was still deciding and she would have to understand that. It was the second time she had put him in this position; he remained calm though and spoke, “You’ve told me everything I’ve heard before, but those sources are,” he thought for a moment, thinking about how he wanted to describe the scrolls and books loaded in the churches he’d visited, “unreliable,” he finished. Though he quickly added, having time to organize his thoughts while she repeated what his intelligence had already told him, “I’m afraid that before I can say yes, there’s more I want to know. Besides, I’m not getting my hopes up, you said yourself that there were no guarantees.” He thought she was faking about that, she wanted to bite him, if only to exert her dominance over another. He smirked; she seemed to be that type.

Markus paused, not sure of what he really wanted to ask. He knew what vampires were in general, but he wanted to know more about her. He reached into his memories and brought up something he’d read about vampires and tried to use that, “I’ve heard of two types of vampires: ones that are born vampires and ones that are ‘infected.’ I use that term lightly, I don’t like to think it’s a disease,” he bit his lip, knowing he’d probably get scolded for this, “I’m curious, what type are you? And, is there a difference?” They were genuine, but it was really to get her to talk about her past, which would give him an enormous amount of insight into whether he wanted to do this. He wanted to hear about what it was like to be a vampire, not physically, but how it felt to be a vampire, and she was the only one who could tell him. If she avoided the question, then he would tell her why he asked, but perhaps she would answer. He didn’t expect it, but he waited for her to respond anyways.

“What do you care?”

Oooh. That was the first time tonight she had gotten something bitter out of him, and she had to say she was rather proud of herself. It had come a bit later than usual, but sooner or later people either got tired of her or got used to her; it seemed that with that statement he was beginning to get tired of it. Who would have thought that her simply mentioning the disarray of the room would get him so riled up? He went on to chastise her, telling her to stay focused on more important things and that she shouldn’t ask if she didn’t care. “I’d watch where you step…” she warned him, her voice coming out with a growling edge to it. “Ordering me around will get you no where, and I don’t think I need to remind you just who has the advantage here. I could take your life right now, so please – feel free to challenge me if you’re feeling suicidal.” It was also the first time during their conversation that she had actually barked an order right back at him. She had respected him as much as she possibly could; she didn’t need him telling her to do anything. “It’s actually very important to this ordeal and I want to know. So start spilling it.”

Her eyes locked with his, only to show just how serious she was. She hoped it wouldn’t come to the point where she would have to kill him anytime soon. Perhaps later on, but right now, she was enjoying this conversation. It would be awfully sad to have to cut it short, but if worse came to worse then she certainly wasn’t afraid to do so. After a decent amount of time passed in which she was sure he got the message, her eyes lost a bit of their ferocity, but not all of it. She didn’t want to be angry for the rest of this little meeting.

“I’m afraid that before I can say yes, there’s more I want to know. Besides, I’m not getting my hopes up, you said yourself that there were no guarantees.”

Cordelia laughed quietly when he quoted her about there not being any guarantees. However, it did seem like he was interested; he had said something about saying yes, after all. He would need to know more, it was true, but it still surprised her a little bit. What kind of person actually even considered becoming a vampire? She shrugged the question off, however. There were more important things right now, such as trying to figure out whether or not he was even worthy of receiving such a cursed gift. “Well, there might be a guarantee if you can prove you should have it,” she informed him. It would hopefully be a bit of motivation for him. “But I do suppose it isn’t up to you in the end, anyway…” If she felt the want to change him, if only to observe the pain that occurred, then she would do so. Whether or not he could survive as a vampire didn’t matter, and neither did his choice.

“I’m curious, what type are you? And, is there a difference?”

At this point, Cordelia pushed her hands together and cracked her knuckles. Finally, some good questions! Maybe not the greatest, but at least they weren’t completely cliché and expected. It was better than questions of morality and of good and evil; such things bored her, really… but her thoughts were drifting off topic, and she had to clear her throat to bring herself back. The last question would prove to be slightly difficult to answer. She knew what the answer was, but putting it into actual words would be the hard part. “I was born one,” she stated simply, not going to give much more detail on that subject. Hopefully he wouldn’t think she was born a vampire out of thin air and could put together that her parents were vampires as well. If not, then that would be a bit pathetic. “There are differences… though I don’t think they’ll make sense to you. Clearly, those who are born as vampires are born undead… their heart never beats and are never really living. Those who are ‘infected’, as you put it, have to go through a very painful process to become undead. The body has to get rid of wastes, unnecessary organs, the heart stops beating. Don’t know what the body does with the organs, and I really don’t want to. I only know it’s painful from what I’ve heard… then, of course, there are instincts that come. The need to kill, the pounding in your head that comes when you need to drink, the way you can almost hear the blood flowing when there’s something living in front of you – you, who are dead and always cold, never knowing warmth for more than a fleeting amount of time.”

That hadn’t been as in depth as she would have liked it to be. It was tricky, though, for her to try and describe things that she had never been through. “I’d imagine that those who are changed also have much more difficulty adapting. I’ll go and assume that you’ve lived your life learning that killing was wrong and that you should always be compassionate, right? That you shouldn’t kill or harm anyone else, no matter what? But me… I was raised being taught that killing was necessary to survive. There was never any question about it for me. It’s hard hearing the agony and pain the first time, I’ll admit that, but you grow to love it and feed off of it, getting an extra high that the blood alone just couldn’t provide. Depending on how much of a conscious you have and how much guilt you can feel, vampirism can either be extremely easy or incredibly tough. In short, those who are turned tend to have a harder time adjusting and have to go through a lot more pain, so I guess I lucked out.” She bit on her lower lip, almost as if she was offering sympathy, but she was merely mocking him. “Sorry if I didn’t help you much. It’s confusing, probably, I know, but I don’t know how much clearer I can make it.”

It was just what Markus had grown to expect from her; she didn't take kindly to his remark and she was interested in hearing what had gotten him worked up. He was tempted to just laugh in her face, particularly at her threat. He was far from scared of her, he'd been threatened by bigger things than just death and that was just one of the many reasons that he didn't turn around and run from every little thing. He sighed, trying to fake a hint of annoyance in his voice, "You're not going to scare me with pain or death; people deserve pain, people deserve death, and believe me, I deserve plenty of both. You'd be doing me a favor actually, something I doubt your really want." He wasn't truly annoyed, he wasn't even afraid of telling her; he just didn't want her to know for reasons he couldn't really understand. He'd kept his nightmares a secret for so long; he'd told no one, not even those he considered to be close friends. He smirked, "I'm serious, why does it matter to you? It really, has nothing to do with this ordeal, that I can promise you." If she pushed again, he would give in. He just wanted to see if she actually wanted to hear it.

Then she made yet another threat, veiled in a guarentee. "Again with the threats," Markus said, trading the smirk for a laugh, "I'm beginning to think you don't like me. How sad," he had meant it as a playful joke, riddled with sarcasm. But he believed that in every piece of sarcasm, there was a little truth. He spected a cruel heartless remark, something to the likes of 'you damn well know I don't like you.' The smirk returned, but he wasn't going to put words in her mouth.

Finally, some answers that he wanted to hear. He wasn't particularly surprised to hear that she was born one, he smiled and remarked, "I couldn't imagine you any differently." He meant it somewhat as a compliment and at the same time there was a hint of seriousness to it. He waited until she finished everything before responsding with anything else. She had described it just the way he had wanted to hear it, blunt and straight-forward. As if she could hear his own heart beating and his own blood flowing. She managed to do amazingly well describing something she had never experienced; he wondered then how painful it would be. Though the pain, he assumed, would be managable and that he woudl survive, but what was the time period? Transformation in a matter of days, weeks, months?

Then she went into the changes in behavior. Markus frowned, not particularly looking forward to the way she described the first kill. She had also been right about his way of life. Killing was always wrong to him, even when he was holding knives over the living as they waited to die on the table of Hell. But, his conscience was smothered by his urges, though he didn't completely forget it. She, as evil as she was, had issues with her first kill. How terrible would it be for him then? His idea was that he would just remember nightmares, and just use his own horrible experiences to numb him before he took his first victim. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts out, hoping she would say anything.

Markus asked his questions then, hoping she could help, "You might know but, how long will the transformation take? And, if it's as greusome as you say, I probably won't be able to go anywhere for the most part during, that's why I'm asking." He stopped there, his mind already made up. He didn't want to flood her with too many questions and he wanted to prolong his 'death.' Still, he betted that he sounded annoying.

He was actually going to do this, but not quite yet. He looked her in the eyes and asked her a question that he was almost certain she didn't want to hear, "So, being born a vampire means," he spoke slow again, hoping he wasn't treading on ground that would offend her too much, "you had parents." It was the bridge between a question and a statement. If she took it as a question, he knew the right answer, and he made that apparent, "Did you know them?" It had nothing to do with vampirism at all, and she would exploit that. But he would simply say no until she answered his question. That should work, he hoped.

Cordelia sighed indignantly at his response. That hadn’t really been what she had wanted to hear… and truthfully, she wasn’t quite sure if she should be glad that he wasn’t frightened of her. While it assured her that he wasn’t a coward, she had to keep him somewhat under control if she was to be his sire. What was she supposed to do if she couldn’t keep him under control by using intimidation or fear? He went on to speak about how it really didn’t matter, but Cordelia simply didn’t want to hear it. “I want to know and that’s all there is to it. I’d prefer not to be questioned.” Her eyes narrowed before she added, “You really should respect me, since I’ve respected you.”

"I'm beginning to think you don't like me. How sad."

Upon hearing that, Cordelia just had to throw her head back and laugh cruelly, shaking her head once she had calmed down. She knew it was sarcastic; she could usually recognize when such a wonderful tool was used. “I don’t like anyone – don’t flatter yourself.” There was only one person she could say she honestly liked, and it certainly wasn’t the person in front of her. She could care less about Markus. If anything, he was simply going to be an experiment so she could see what really happened when a person became a vampire. She knew she would probably have to keep an eye on him, considering she would have to give him her blood and in doing so make him part of her ‘family’, but that was just a minor detail that shouldn’t present itself as much of a problem.

She simply ignored his comment about not being able to imagine her differently. It brought a faint smirk to her face, though, simply because she knew it completely fit her. She had never been human and would never be able to try and act like one or understand how they loved to hang on to their precious guilt and allowed their emotions to get the better of them. It happened to her sometimes, since she wasn’t entirely heartless, but not enough to really be a fault for her… and others thought they had the right to call her ‘evil’ simply because she was different from them. Being so absorbed in her own thoughts, she neglected to notice his frown; however, once he spoke, she was taken from her thoughts and forced to pay attention.

"You might know but, how long will the transformation take?…”

Such a silly little question. She figured his reason to ask was good enough, but really, where was the fun in just knowing? Wouldn’t it be more adventurous to just find out by himself? Then again, going through pain for an unknown amount of time probably didn’t sound appealing. “Well… I’d say a day or two. It doesn’t take too long.” She simply shrugged her shoulders. She knew it didn’t take less time than that, and she doubted it took more – so it had to be somewhere within that time range, even if it was just a basic estimate.

As he worked his way into the mentioning of her parents, Cordelia’s eyes flashed with a glint of annoyance. That was completely irrelevant. Maybe the whole thing about what had happened to the room was as well, but as least such a simple question wasn’t as personal as asking if she knew her parents. What kind of kid didn’t know their parents, anyway? Not only was it beside the point and personal, it was actually very stupid. “You said yourself that we shouldn’t talk about unimportant things… so how about you just don’t mention them? You’re being hypocritical.” With each word she inched closer until finally she rested both of her hands on Markus’ shoulders. “I’d suggest staying very still… and just so you know, you’ll need to drink my blood once I’m done, so don’t think that you can just go off and skip around, mmkay? Not like you could anyway… but I digress.” With that said and without hesitating, Cordelia brought her head right to the side of his neck and bit into the flesh, beginning to drain the blood from his body.

Markus rolled his eyes and sighed heavily when she pushed it further, venturing to claim that she had respect for him. He severely doubted this, but wasn’t going to bring it up by saying anything. Instead, he gave in, not because he was afraid she was going to kill him, but because he just wanted her to leave him alone about it. He looked away from her, gathered his thoughts for a moment, then answered her in a truly annoyed voice, “Look, I have nightmares.” He motioned to the sheets and pillows, looking up at her continuing, “They aren’t not exactly fun and games; however, I’m sure you’d enjoy them. Memories, converted into dreams I can’t control: murdering children, killing innocents, spreading fear, eating their hearts, causing them,” he hesitated before letting his face contort into a vile smirk, “pain and death. Part of the reason I’m doing this, if you actually were wondering, is because I’m thinking it’ll help me cope. If I’m evil at heart, then the nightmares should be more like sweet dreams to me, I assume.” He wasn’t actually sure if that would work, and it had actually just crossed his mind, but he could hope. “The other reason wouldn’t interest you. It has to deal with,” he paused deliberately then said with a grin, “blasphemy.” She might care, and she might ask, but he doubted it.

She had found Markus’ sarcasm amusing. She claimed to like no one, but he doubted that was actually true. She might be cruel, rude, and brutally honest at some points, but he was sure she actually had friends. Even people like that could find someone that thought similar to the way they did; but he would only agree with her, “No surprise there.”

She had answered Markus’ question with a variable, which made him wonder if she actually knew anything about the process. She had most likely killed all of her other victims instead of transforming them, but then again she had described everything as if she’d seen it. Clueless as to whether he could trust her estimate, he decided to just hope that it would be short. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was planning on doing in the meantime either; would she just watch him? He shrugged off the questions, deciding not to ask; he’d already pestered her with enough questions and he’d decided to do this, so he would just find out soon enough. He would find everything out soon enough. He wondered of what this would do to him; or better yet, what would it do to her? Particularly, would she actually treat him like an equal after the transformation? He doubted it, but there was a chance that he could at least look a bit ‘better’ in her eyes. Not that it really mattered to him; he just played with the ideas in his mind.

It had irked Markus that she had called him hypocritical. He had, in fact, said that they should avoid unimportant things. Besides, she seemed to be annoyed by that question, and he didn’t really want to annoy her at the moment, considering the advantage that she had. He thought about making a run for it, at the last second deciding he didn’t want to, but he knew he did. So he stood there, his eyes closed as her cold hands found his shoulders. She mentioned a last detail, telling him that he would have to drink her blood as well. He was about to ask, but stopped himself, just doing as she told him. He was at her disposal now; a shiver went down his spine and with that, he did as she had told him and remained still. He remained silent, he remained still, he didn’t wince at the pain as she bit into his flesh, and he didn’t open his eyes.

A few moments passed while she continued to drain Markus’ blood. He felt a bit weak, but surprisingly, it just seemed like one long bleeding wound that he didn’t die from. He wanted to ask her how long this part was going to take, but he didn’t. He just stood there and waited as his life was drained from him; he was a vampire. He was a walking blasphemy of the gods! He had spat in their face; he had ruined his chances of redemption and was enjoying every minute of it. His hatred and his amusement swelled inside and he was compelled to laugh, though found it difficult to, considering his position. An evil smile grew on his face as he stood there, in the moonlit room, and he felt his heart beat for the last time.

Nightmares? This whole mess was because of a bad dream? Honestly, Cordelia would have preferred the story about the rat if he was scared of his dreams. She didn’t even try to hold her loud, obnoxious laughter back. A bad dream! Ha! Her shoulders even shook because of the hilarity of it. She’d been haunted by nightmares years ago, but that was a part of her that she had buried away and tried desperately to forget. With the way she was acting now, though, it seemed clear that she had forgotten at least for now.

When he mentioned murdering children though, her laughing ceased immediately and her eyes darkened significantly, with any trace of lightheartedness disappearing from her features. How dare he! Just… absolutely… how dare he. As his to-be sire, she would make certain that such an action would never be taken again unless he wanted to receive severe punishment. “There are worse fates than death and pain that can befall you, Markus,” Cordelia warned, her voice dripping with the venom only a mother could give. “And such a fate could very well befall you should you ever even think of hurting another child. You will never do that again, no matter what the circumstances. Do I make myself clear?” She hissed out the last word, not caring at all for anything else his pesky little voice at to say. She should have tortured him right there for even admitting such a thing, but she was feeling generous tonight and give him only a single chance more. He deserved nightmares for that… and she hoped even vampirism would never cure those horrible reenactments inside his head of what he did to those innocent children.

By this time Cordelia had sunk her teeth into his neck, taking the blood that flowed through the veins. Time went on as she drank the intoxicating, strengthening liquid, not keeping track really. She wasn’t used to stopping herself until she was good and ready, which was usually not until people weren’t too far off from death. Cordelia forced herself to back away from the still open, freely bleeding wound, licking the blood off of her fangs with a slightly agitated look on her face. Not only was her hunger not satiated, but she suddenly wasn’t feeling too willing to giving him her blood – blood that was meant for her and her alone, blood that would turn him into the very thing she was, blood that would bring him into her family… but she knew she had to do this, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. She took a single arm away from his shoulder and brought her wrist to her mouth, slitting it open with her right fang in one fluid motion. Her blood began to ooze freely from the fresh wound, and the moment it could be seen it was clear it was darker than human blood. It was more of a maroon color, and a little bit thicker than human blood as well.

A light grin spread over her features when she saw the evil smirk on his face. He had the potential, what with the history he seemed to have and the reasons he had given… the only thing she could hope was that he wouldn’t turn into the kind of mindless beast that gave vampires a bad name. She was to be his mother of sorts, so it would be her job to correct any sort of behavior she didn’t like by any means necessary. What he did would be a reflection on her, and she wasn’t mindless. Remorseless was another story.

Taking herself out of her thoughts, Cordelia pressed her wrist to Markus’ lips with a single, simple command: “Drink.” While she waited for him to do that and to crave the very liquid that would sustain him for the rest of his life – however long that may be – she ran over multiple things in her head, mostly just to occupy herself. She had nothing better to do until he was done drinking, because that would be when the real fun would begin. Hopefully the transformation wouldn’t end up being boring… that would be such a disappointment! “And do tell me when you’re done what you mean by blasphemy.” A single eyebrow rose as she looked at him, recalling the words from earlier. She doubted he would be able to speak for very long after he had finished, but she might as well ask anyway. It was like it would hurt anything, and she really did want an explanation. She’d bother him for as long as she had to until she got it; it had worked earlier with the whole nightmare ordeal, hadn’t it?

She had laughed until he mentioned murdering children and the abrupt action surprised Markus. She had went on to warn him; as she spoke, he thought that she sounded like a mother, warning and scolding her child. Markus was confused a bit, but he took her words to heart. It wasn‘t like he had wanted to murder children, what kind of person did she think he was? He had been taught by his sect and all his life that the strong survive, and the weak perish. He had been given a choice during those dark times, it was his life or theirs that would feed the blood gods. The choice was clear to him; but even that didn‘t justify it. Thus the reason he had nightmares about it more than any of the other villainous acts he had committed. Curiosity now flooded his mind; she had become very serious about this, which begged the question: why? Had she done similar things and it plagued her? Or was there something more? He chose not to ask for the time being and instead responded with a quiet and ashamed, “Yes, clear as crystal; don’t worry, I hate myself for it.” Did she hate him now, more than she did before knowing him?

She pulled herself away and Markus suddenly felt very cold, something he hoped the he would get used to. He looked at his arms, expecting the hair on them to raise, but they didn’t. He was just cold, and he assumed he would always be that way, from now on. The other things about him didn’t seem to change obviously, which he had expected; after all, she had told him the process could take as long as two days. He had felt his heart stop, but yet he continued to breathe, and that to him was the oddest feeling of all. He wondered if he had any blood left, then he remembered what she had told him. That he would have to drink her blood; so apparently vampires kept their blood. He felt like a child, curious about a new toy; but he knew that she was taking things much more seriously than that, unless he was just her guinea pig. He didn’t care, he was a vampire now in his book.

Markus let the smile fade into an expressionless stare as she slit her wrist open and her abnormally dark blood seeped out. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to drink her blood or not, but it was part of the ritual apparently, and he couldn’t very well decline after she pressed it to his lips. Why couldn’t she have waited until he had fangs so that he could sink his teeth into her neck and drink for himself; he would rather do that than drink from self-inflicted wounds. He shocked himself with the odd thought then smiled, assuming it was the instincts that she spoke of. He put his mouth slowly to her wrist and tasted her blood. Oddly enough, it tasted different from blood that he had tasted before. Memories shot through his mind of eating hearts and tasting the blood of innocents. It was different, he wasn’t sure if his sense of taste had already changed or whether it was something else. He didn’t think anymore about it, he just drank, suddenly getting the urge to drink more and more.

Markus heard the question, but waited to answer until the urge was suddenly sated before pulling away from her wrist and licking his lips. He felt around in his mouth for a bit, disappointed slightly that there were no fangs occupying it. He smirked as he thought about the question. Surely she wasn’t really interested in what he had meant by blasphemy. It was simple and he told her, hopefully explaining himself for what he had told her earlier, “You have no idea how bad I have wanted to get my revenge on the both the gods of evil and the gods of peace for narrowing my mind. I,” he said, looking away from her, ashamed, “used to be a cleric. Three years ago, I would’ve found a way to kill you with the ’light of god.’ Even the evil gods forbade necromancy and the undead! I used to serve the gods of blood and the gods of light, massacring innocents or sitting under a waterfall, doing what was expected of me in exchange for the ability to kill. The ability to kill, just by speaking,” he finished. He thought for a moment, looking up at her and then added with venomous hatred and anger, “I hate them! And what better way to spit in the face of a god than to cheat them out of a soul?” His eyes narrowed, Now I have an eternity to blaspheme.” He wondered what she would think; whether she would respect him for going against the gods that had tempted him to slay children, or whether she would even care at all. It didn’t matter. Markus frowned, realizing he had revealed yet another secret of his without gaining anything but the gift of darkness from her, “Is your curiosity satisfied now?” He asked, with ice in his voice, “Or can I ask my questions now?”

“Yes, clear as crystal; don’t worry, I hate myself for it.”

Good. If it hadn’t been clear, she had her ways of making it so. Hearing that it made him hate who he was was an added bonus, and quite frankly Cordelia was glad. There was nothing more despicable in this world than to kill a child; a child who had done nothing in their lives to deserve death. Children were the only innocent ones in this world and he had a good reason to hate himself. She was so glad the nightmares haunted him… and she desperately hoped the guilt of killing little ones would never leave him.

She simply waited patiently as he drank from her wrist; her eyes narrowed a little bit as she observed him. She couldn’t feel his fangs against the open wound, and if he had grown them already, she was sure he would have been using them. Come on – fangs were probably the best part of being a vampire! She almost giggled to herself, but she kept it inside. He’d grow them soon enough, along with his skin losing any sort of color it once retained. It would be interesting to see if everything happened in steps or if it all happened at once… but she had a feeling it all happened at once. Markus continued to take more and more from her, but this was going on a bit too long and frankly Cordelia really wanted her wrist back. Once he pulled away from the slit, she pulled her wrist away and simply covered it with her other hand to try and stop the blood flow, even though she knew it would stop soon enough.

He went on to answer her question about what he had meant by blasphemy. Her eyebrows lifted significantly when he mentioned that he used to be a cleric. Well, that was a bit odd, considering what a cleric was and what he had just become. The fact that he would have killed her had he seen her three years didn’t matter much to her, though it made her smirk in amusement at the suggestion. He would have failed miserably – Cordelia had always had a bit of luck when it came to getting out of potentially fatal situations. If anything, she would have been the one to kill him. Besides, three years ago, she never left her house, so it would have been impossible for him to have found her anyway.

“Now I have an eternity to blaspheme.”

A quiet, malicious sounding giggle emitted from her throat when he said that. She had to admit, she was glad he was going against the gods that had so ‘righteously’ told him to kill children. Mocking them by becoming something they had forbidden was the exact thing she would have done. Spit right in their faces and tell them to go screw themselves! Cordelia giggled a little bit more before her smirk turned into an honest grin. “Then blasphemy away, and have a great time doing it,” she said to him, clearly proud and approving of his decision. “Too bad gods are immortal, or I’d kill them with my bear hands for killing little kids…” It would have been an almost comical statement, had she not been so serious. A young vampire going against immortal gods was really an odd thing to ponder over. Cordelia didn’t have much common sense, though, so who could really blame her for such a ridiculous statement?

“Or can I ask my questions now?”

She snorted upon hearing his icy tone, not liking it much at all. He had spunk, which she supposed was good, but he should be respecting her. She had given him eternal life and had given him the chance to mock his former gods; shouldn’t he be grateful? “Go ahead, proceed,” she said, her tone just as icy as his, if not colder. “I’m done, but I must ask who taught you manners because whoever did absolutely failed.” Cordelia rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, looking him right in the eye, trying to keep a smirk from breaking her face.

Markus felt colder still, and he wondered if he would ever stop getting colder. It had to, surely, he had felt Cordelia’s cold wrist against his lips, but had said nothing. He felt even colder than that though, and he wondered if vampires warmed up after a period of time. While she spoke, he glanced at his arms again; he expected the hair on them to rise. However, all he noticed that was different about them was that they were a shade lighter, even thought the room was only lit by the moon, he could see a significant difference. He wondered if she had taken note of this, but he didn’t feel like asking her, or trying to flaunt it like it was some spectacular thing. His eyes scanned her, for the first time really thinking about how pale she was. Would he be this pale? Or was this another thing that might progress over years as a vampire? Questions of appearance seemed to annoy her, just like compliments to her appearance annoyed her, so he wouldn’t ask.

She had mentioned the immortality of gods and Markus frowned. Yes, the gods were immortal; they lived forever, atop their mighty thrones wherever they may hide. But to say that they couldn’t be “killed”, was far from the truth. It was simple really, and he would inform her, teach her, basically, as she had taught him. He wasn’t sure how she would take this, but he would try. It wasn’t something he learned from being a cleric, it was of a greater, sounder, and more open mind. His frown turned into a grin and he spoke in a very similar tone that she had used to explain vampirism to him, “You are right to say that gods are, in essence, immortal. But even so, it is possible to kill a god, even one that is ‘amongst us,’ so to say.” He turned away from her, and walked a step away to a bundle of clothes. He rummaged through them quickly, taking out a charred book. He stood up, turned back to face her, the grin still on his face, and handed her the book. Should she take it and open it, the words were illegible and impossible to make out, the book was too damaged to read, or even be sold. She wouldn’t know, but it was a book dedicated to one of the many blood gods. He spoke again, “The way to kill a god, Cordelia, is to erase its existence in this world.” He thought for a moment then added, “To rob a god of worshipers, followers, and believers is to rob a god of life, power, and presence. And that is precisely what I aim to do.” She had been proud of his blasphemy; he expected her to be even prouder now. He finished by saying with a deeper hatred than before, “I plan to rob those gods of what they robbed those children; everything.”

Markus looked her in the eyes again and spoke, “Manners?” He wanted to laugh when he thought about the way she had treated him in the room below, but then was reminded of what he had become and how he had become it. He sighed, and spoke in a tone with slight sincerity, “I apologize, don’t think I’m not thankful for the gift.” There was nothing more to it, so he moved on to his first question, “Is there any particular reason that I drank your blood? Or is it just some pointless ritual that I was supposed to perform.” He didn’t want to sound disrespectful again, so he was careful with his tone, keeping it flat and almost emotionless, but hinted with curiosity. The way he spoke reminded him of how he loved the power of tone, anyone could be manipulated by it. But he wasn’t trying to manipulate her, just be sincere and, in essence, respectful to his creator. Markus kept his eyes focused on hers, his irises steadily changing from gray to a black that matched his pupils.

Cordelia hadn’t noticed his skin just yet, since such things rarely mattered to her. However, when his frown turned into a grin, she had to stand there wondering what he was thinking about and what he was probably about to say. When he said it was possible to kill a god, she almost laughed. Yeah, right, she didn’t believe that for a second. Markus went to a bundle of clothes and picked out a book, returning to her and handing it to her. The woman simply stared down at it, wondering how sanitary it was. Almost as if the book itself was a disease, she used her index finger to flip open the cover and flip through the pages. Great, she couldn’t even read any of it, but it wasn’t like that really mattered. The handwriting completely blew her away, though; she had seen some messy handwriting in her life, but this was just so completely illegible that she didn’t even want to try. “Someone needs to teach you some serious penmanship…” she muttered before he continued on.

What he said about taking away everything a god had to look forward to made sense. She supposed that was a way to ‘kill’ one, but even so, she meant literally kill, not just reduce them to a disgrace. Even so, she smirked slightly; maybe his way was better than hers. There were worse things that could happen than death, and for a god to lose absolutely everything and still be a god… oh, that was pure genius. The detestation in his voice was easy to see when he told her his plan to rob the gods of everything they had robbed those children of and her smirk widened significantly. In fact, she chuckled quietly, just picturing it in her head – standing over one of those gods as they begged for mercy without any pride before they were reduced to absolutely nothing… “You’ll do it. Gods who have to kill children for their own amusement aren’t that strong anyway, so I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.” It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but it wasn’t really an insult, either. “Maybe you should go after their other followers too, just a suggestion. Kill ‘em all in one sweep so you don’t have to worry.”

“I apologize, don’t think I’m not thankful for the gift.”

Good boy, he knew when to apologize! Cordelia smirked, proud that it hadn’t taken too much effort to be able to get him to say he was sorry. “Well I don’t see why you wouldn’t be thankful, but glad you finally said that,” she said in sarcastically sweet tone. She was telling the truth in a way, though, since she did think vampirism was something to be thankful for. It helped people let go of what was holding them back and in the end it was really the only way to have fun. It wasn’t a matter of good or evil, but simply a question of whether people were willing to have a bit of entertainment.

“Is there any particular reason that I drank your blood? Or is it just some pointless ritual that I was supposed to perform.”

Cordelia almost seemed surprised that he would ask such a thing. That was actually an extremely stupid question; how could he not put two and two together? She rolled her eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did so. “It did have a point, you idiot,” she said. “First of all, if you didn’t, you’d probably die pretty quick because you lost blood. Second, if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t fully be a vampire because it’s my blood,” she took a moment to dramatically point to the slit on her wrist, “that finally turns you because of my DNA. And, because it’s my DNA, it makes you my fledgling, or ‘child’ because I know you’re gonna ask what that means because you have the horrible inability of being able to piece things together, and I’m your sire or otherwise ‘parent’. And because you officially have vampire blood in you you’ll be getting your cute little grown-up fangs, your skin will change color, you’ll want blood… I get the feeling you know the drill.” She shrugged after speaking, but she knew that more foolish questions would be coming her way, since as of yet he only asked one question that really made sense. “Anything else?”

((OOC: I apologize for taking so damn long, alot of things came up... lack of internet, grounded, exams, etc. so yeah, but here's a reply, again sorry it took me a month :s ))

The idea of taking the lives of the worshippers of those gods, Markus now realized, would also be part of a god’s destruction. Was there at better way to make a god forgotten than to kill all those who know speak its name? Then of course, there would be the booking burnings and the destruction of the churches, and all that. He smiled at the thought of throwing the corpses of priests of the blood gods onto a pile of books in a church and burning them all. A bit sadistic, but what did he care? Things were different now, his mind had become darker, and solutions to his problems were becoming more ‘evil.’ But he wondered what really defined evil? And should he really define those actions of killing priests of blood gods, evil? Not that either were prevalent questions that he planned on asking her, or anyone but himself at a later time.

She couldn’t see what someone wouldn’t be thankful? Markus found this to be a slightly close-minded statement; but then again, he couldn’t blame her too much, she had been this way since she was born. Perhaps she had forgotten that not everyone held the same beliefs as her, or perhaps she didn’t care, but Markus knew that there were some in this world that would consider the ‘gift’ that he had so gracefully received, to be a curse. Walking around only at night, forced to kill victims, drink their blood, only to be urged to do it again by the sheer thrill, not to mention the appetite. Who would consider it a gift, then? Would it be one like himself who was seeking answers to questions and was finding answers in the ability to do drastic things? Drastic, was a much better word than evil, Markus had decided, and through his new ‘disease’ he would have much less concern for petty morality. He’d already lost the religion and now, he was losing his soul, and thus, his moral compass; which was well worth the drawbacks, he knew.

Markus hadn’t really expected all the technicality and meticulous reasoning and logic behind the act. He was thankful for it though; he would’ve hated for it to have been pointless ritual. He despised the pointless and furthermore, he despised the concepts of rituals. The way she had described it seemed more logical, which he considered to be much more important than faith. She had called him an idiot though, which seemed to annoy him, so he replied with agitation in is voice, “Well, I apologize, Mother, for not knowing every damned bit of information about this process. It’s not like I’m as lucky as you and was born dead.” It wasn’t meant to be hurtful or anything, he was just annoyed. She seemed to think he was a complete idiot, which he was when it came to vampirism, but she didn’t really seem to clarify. He wanted to ask a few more questions, but he decided against it, considering that she’s probably treat him the same as before, “No, I don’t have anything else to ask. I’ll just find out on my own I suppose.” He looked away for a moment, thinking of what else to say, then turned back and added, “What are you going to do now?” He didn’t exactly want her to leave, but he didn’t really see anything else to keep her here. He began to wonder about other things, letting his mind wander even as he looked at her, whether or not he would see her again, or whether she would treat him differently. He waited in silent contemplation for her to speak.

((OoC: oh don't worry about it, things happen, it's totally all right. glad to see you back. =D))


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“Well, I apologize, Mother, for not knowing every damned bit of information about this process. It’s not like I’m as lucky as you and was born dead.”

All this bickering was beginning to get old. She respected him for not backing down to her, but even so, it worried her. If she had no dominance over him, then what was going to keep him in check? He was still a young vampire; from what she had learned, using fear was the only way to make the changed ones behave and not go crazy. Plus, it would help him understand the ranks. There was so much she needed to tell him that he just wouldn’t figure out if he wouldn’t shut his mouth. Maybe she should stop being so mean for a while; maybe then her only fledgling would have a chance of actually living. It wasn’t like his life actually mattered to her, but considering her blood was going to course through his veins now, she had to force herself to care at least a little bit. He was a reflection upon her, after all.

“No, you weren’t as lucky – so it’s a good thing I’m so nice and introduced you into this wonderful new lifestyle,” Cordelia said. Hard as she tried, she knew she wasn’t going to be capable of being polite or compassionate. It wasn’t like she was dealing with a child here; Markus was a grown man who could take care of himself. He was an idiot when it came to vampirism, but he would figure it all out in time by himself if he was so adamant about talking back to her.

“No, I don’t have anything else to ask. I’ll just find out on my own I suppose.”

Upon hearing those words, Cordelia smacked her forehead with her palm, grabbing at a few locks of her black hair and pulling out of frustration. She didn’t want him learning on his own because she knew he would just end up dying. Sure, maybe it would serve him right, considering he was the one that wanted to learn on his own and was being so stubborn, but the main conflict of him carrying her blood was still standing. What was she supposed to do? Neither of the two choices she had seemed like the right thing to do; furthermore, both would make her look like a hypocritical fool. Even if she didn’t care what anyone else thought about her, she had to at least do what she knew was what she was supposed to do.

Sighing, Cordelia rubbed her temples before lowering her hands to her pockets. “Fine, fine, you don’t have to guilt me into stuff you know. All you had to do was ask and I would have helped.” So what if she was turning this around and blaming it on him? It really didn’t make a difference. “I don’t trust you to go out and learn by yourself, so I’ll at least help you with some things. I could just up and leave you if I wanted, but I’m a good mother so I’m not going to do that. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not now.” Grinning in triumph, all of her frustration seemed to melt away. She just hoped that this wouldn’t turn out to be a wasted effort.

“What are you going to do now?”

Cordelia snorted – as if she knew! She didn’t exactly plan her life and what she was going to do at what specific times. She was a spontaneous person… while some order was required in her life, she wasn’t so weird that she had to plan every second of every single day. “Well, I don’t know,” she said. “I had intended to stay with you, maybe help you kill someone, but if you want to ask more of your petty, annoying questions, feel free to do so.” She shrugged her shoulders, extending her arms to her sides and letting her hands fall against her legs. Whatever happened was basically going to be up to him, because even though he was an adult, he was still her child and it was her job to ‘take care’ of him.

… She really had her work cut out for her this time around…