Out of Place (Open )

[Vesperes Van Hasselt]

   Silently navigating the paths leading through the park, Vesperes was taking some time to clear his head.  He had considered going out to one of the clubs, or looking for some other sort of activity.  It had been tempting in some ways, but the Kaiser found himself in the mood to be alone.  Of course, he could have been alone on the clan territories, but it didn't suit him.  It was true, some of his kin was now present.  He was pleased in no small way,  the presence of two of his children, and Klaus was soothing in many ways.  Still, there were unpleasant matters involved as well.  Mostly, it was a matter of safety. 

    There were reasons for him to want to get out. For one, it irritated the Prussian that he had so few beneath him that he felt a connection to, and nearly just as few that he felt he could trust.  'Trust' of course, was a far more tricky concept for those that lived as long as vampires, but still, it was important to the Prussian. He had been keeping up with the ongoings of his people in District one; it was his obligation, and his privilege, but it did also serve as a reminder that here, in this district, he was mostly alone. 

     Pausing, Vesperes' gaze settled on the subtle rippling out in the surface of the inky black pool. The movement would have escaped the notice of many, but millenia of living, and fighting... decades of hunting his own kind, had made the ancient more observant. Perhaps it had also caused him to lose his mind just a bit, as looking out onto the reflection of the Mistress, wavering in the not quite glassy surface, made him only think that this was not his home. He wasn't sad in this moment, it was just this feeling of malcontent. He was given to feeling it from time to time, but this unfamiliar climate, the lack of familiar company, it made the feeling a bit more pointed.  Perhaps he should have sought familiar company at such a time, but that wasn't his instinct in matters such as these.  

    "Lerne leiden ohne zu klagen."  The words echoed through his mind. Some might have found such a thought at such a time oppressive. For Vesperes it was a mantra of strength. It reminded him of who he was, of who his people are. For him, there was no greater comfort; it helped the world make sense.  

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[Maggie MacCailin]

Normally, a walk in the park after what had been a decidedly 'interesting' shift at club Carnivale was something that relaxed the petite lycan. It wasn't true nature, but it was likely as close as she would get in the otherwise urban place she'd chosen to try to settle in. Tonight though, it put her a bit on edge - what had been on the previous evening's news enough to have here eyes occasionally darting to any random shadow that might be in her path.

Now, Maggie wasn't exactly nervous. Not really. She just felt a need to be more attentive to her surroundings. It was true she had a bit more of an advantage if she was confronted with a rabid vampire in the park, but not much of one as even a newly made vampire could likely take her if they wanted to. Of course, something hadn't quite seemed right about the news reports as what she knew of vampires didn't quite match up with what they were trying to say one did. Sure, the girl had clearly been bitten, vampiric marks had been shown on the girl's neck in the rather graphic picture they'd put on the television screen. But those marks hadn't seemed exactly right to her.

She'd been bitten before. Many times in fact. It was part of her job at Carnivale, and it wasn't a part she minded as generally the vampires that sunk fang into her were pleasant sorts. A bit overly flirtatious sometimes, and perhaps a bit grabby - but nothing she couldn't handle and handle well. Her overflowing tip jar clearly demonstrated that fact. She was familiar with the way bite marks looked on skin, and these had seemed a bit too perfect. Her nose scrunched a bit, not even sure what her own thoughts meant, and then promtly pushed them away as it wasn't her job to try and find that poor girl's killer. She only hoped that he or she /was/ found, and that this didn't cause havoc for the law-abiding vampiric community in the area.

A rock somehow found it's way under her shoe, causing Maggie to teeter somewhat precariously for a moment...but luckily, she managed to catch herself on the back of a bench near the water. How had she wandered so far off the path she'd been walking? A moment of panic flashed briefly through her, eyes going wide as she looked around. "Well, so much for being extra attentive...." she said aloud, even as she decided to give up the ghost and take a seat, thinking it was probably a good thing to sit for a minute and enjoy the fresh air. Even if the prospect of having her back turned did raise her hackles just a bit.  


A familiar, cold but not unpleasant scent eventually trickled it's way to her as she sat and tried to relax and push the image of that poor girl's face out of her mind. Vampire. She knew it, and regardless of how pleasant she found them to deal with, it did have her spine stiffening - and her head slowly turning towards the male standing in what appeared to be a contemplative solitude, and didn't hesitate in giving herself a chance to study him, merely out of habit. 


He was pretty...very blonde, and very pale - so pale that the moon seemed to reflect off of his skin and surround him in a luminous glow. The effect was ethereal, making it clear to almost anyone that might see that he belonged in a different world than this one. No, Maggie didn't know him personally, nor did she recognize that all too perfect face as a regular - but she did know it. She was almost positive she did. And suddenly...suddenly, it dawned on her and her eyes widened just a bit. "Excuse me." She called out, her words polite, but perhaps a bit curious in tone. "I don't...I don't mean to bother you sir, but, are you the new Kaiser?" And with this Maggie was, of course careful in how loud she spoke. Vampires could hear the drop of a pin in a noisy room, so she knew she needn't shout. So though her voice was kept soft, so soft it was nearly a whisper , passerby without that supernatural sense would likely not even hear so much as a syllable. 

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