Sleeping Sun

[Kerr MacCloud]

As the evening grew long and the sun waned, Kerr lengthened his steps in an attempt to get to one of the many parks scattered across London before the sun truly rested. Dressed in a plain white shirt paired with a dark coloured pair of pants, his heavy leather knee high boots clicked against the rocky road laid out before him. The only other sounds that seemed to echo in the impending night were the sounds of fingers tapping on a cover of a book and the slight clang of a metal sword against a lamp.

Finally he had settled upon an area with only a few trees scattered around the little cove he stilled his feet and simply stared. It was times like this that he wished that his hands were more skilled in painting. The sun was setting and the mixtures of colours could not be described with mere words alone. All the colours seemed to blend in with the obnoxious city, telling the day go-ers that it was time to go inside and be with the family. Lifting his hand up to his silver cross, Kerr thought of what he had lost before he was forced to flee to London. He let out a slight sigh and bowed his head. It is useless to pray for a different outcome. The past shall remain in the past and all I must do is learn of its mistakes.

Kerr placed the lamp on the soft grass and settled himself by its gentle glow. He removed his sword from its sheath and placed it on the ground, then placed his book to rest beside it. Settling down on his knees, he bowed his head, closed his eyes and said a silent prayer as to keep him safe. Upon finishing his little prayer, Kerr reached over and picked up his book. It was the newest book on sword techniques, one he wished to try and master. The locals had said it was dangerous to live here, saying that the darkness swelled in the night. He had his doubts as he had not seen such a thing but he still wanted to protect himself in case it was indeed true.

[Aurelius Bianchi]

Aurelius had risen early. The heavy drapes had been drawn across his windows, and his house had been still. It was always still in the city. There was so much outside noise that he desired his home to be a place of quiet and rest. As such, the place was something like a tomb at all sunlit hours, save for those in which dreams awoke him, as they had tonight. He had dreamed of Epifanio again, torn from his rest by the screams that echoed on every fringe of sanity.

And as such, he had risen from his lavish bed and dressed. It was a lengthy process, as it usually involved switching outfits until he found the right one for his mood. His closet was beyond full. He loved clothing, after all. He was, after all, of the mindset that he ought to enjoy life if he was going to live forever. And as he had the wealth and capacity to buy more and more, he did so. Call it compensation for what he had stolen as a child, and for the blood he was compelled to live upon. Whatever. He just liked to be pretty. Breeches, silk shirt, waistcoat, jacket, stockings, shoes, hat, and cane. He cut quite a site, which was how he liked it.

And with that, he left the house. With the door locked behind him, he tucked the key into his pocket and began his nightly stroll. His cane tapped against the ground, and he hummed quietly, though the sound seemed to radiate around him alluringly, a siren call, drawing in his prey. His golden hair seemed to glisten in the last light of day, and his skin burned slightly, but not painfully. It was too weak now to do much damage. His walk found him at a park, where he walked easily along the path, guided by a strong scent. Virgin blood. It called to him as powerfully as his song called to any potential pray. He had to have it.

His step quickened, and the seemingly ageless singer applied greater pull behind his song, until he found himself looking upon a boy. A human boy. The virgin. He licked his lips and stepped closer, just outside of the lamplight. "Good evening," he prompted softly. "You know it is dangerous to walk alone here...There is talk of much darkness." His accent was faint, but obvious still. He made no effort to hide it.

[Kerr MacCloud]

With the evening being so still Kerr was able to hear the sound of the cane hitting the path quite a ways away from where he was. As whoever was using the cane drew nearer to the park he could hear their steps. Well designed shoes, he guessed, from the slight clip of the heel hitting the ground. It was something he had noticed different with poorly made shoes compared to the fancy or even better quality shoes. The poorly made ones always slapped the ground, giving the person away long before they were seen. He was unable to contain his smile, he was not the only one who preferred to be out in the evening.

Kerr heard the feet still rather close to him and how his lamplight was no longer covering the ground as much as it used to. An accented voice spoke to him with a warm greeting and the same warning he was always given. He marked the page that he was on and slammed the book shut, holding it tightly in his grasp. Company was welcomed but it did not mean that he was willing to talk to them always. Lifting his head up, Kerr stared up to the person that was wishing his greeting upon the baron.

Almost immediately he noticed how the person was male, one who was much richer than he was. Someone who probably owned quite a bit of land. His hair seemed to sparkle in the fading sunlight. He also noted that the male was pale, but even his paleness did not compare to Kerr’s own flawless white tone. Silver-like airy blue eyes were met with dark grey blue eyes. The silence grew as he continued to examine the clothing of the other. Finally upon his examination, Kerr began to work up the courage to speak to this rather sentient-like being.

“Good evening to you too my good sir.” Kerr drew his Scottish accent out to hint as to where he was born from. He placed his book beside his Rapier sword and drew his blade closer to his body, getting ready to defend himself if the need be. “Aye, I have been warned by many that the darkness seems to favour the night. Alas I have yet to witness such an act so I feel well enough with my blade beside me.”

[Aurelius Bianchi]

Aurelius hated the way this city smelled. Filth, rotting garbage, more filth. It seemed that no matter where he went, he was accosted by it. He lifted a scented handkerchief to his nose, trying to keep his eyes from rolling at the revolting stench, and momentarily cursed his heightened sense of smell. It only made this so much worse. Still, this was where the food was, and this was where he had been driven. This, then, was where he would stay, no matter how distasteful he found it to be. London was to be endured, as he knew he had his country estate in the event that it became too much. He had provided well for himself.

He did not bother hiding his stride. His prey would come to him. He knew this. It had been an unfailing truth for centuries now, and he supposed it would continue thus. He was not the oldest of vampires, nor did he pretend to be the wisest, but he had lived a very long time without being killed, and he knew there was good reason for that. At present, attention had been hooked by the youth with the book and sword. It was almost sweet, the way he held them. It gave off the image of one who was frightened, though Aure wasn't sure that was what he wished to convey. Either way, it amused him.

He was not much taller than Kerr. Centuries before, Aurelius had been a bit below average, and now, he seemed simply...small. Epifanio had been the giant of the two, bound with muscle and height, but Aurelius had been his darling boy, and he had been preserved in that state, though immortality gave him a look older than that of a seventeen-year-old. He stood with a straight back, cane held out, cutting quite the picture of gentlemanliness. He quirked his head to the side, and smiled softly to the other, lips together, so as not to expose elongated fangs.

He gave a musical laugh of approval as the other spoke, drawing his sword near. The myriad of accents on this tiny island never ceased to amaze him, but he had always found a Scottish dialect to be particularly delightful. He raised a hand as the other spoke, as if to defend himself. "Well now, I have no doubt that you can more than protect yourself. I myself never learned the ways of a blade. Would you mind if I enjoyed your company for a little while? This time of night makes me fearful. I am a stranger to this city, and I am afraid the tales seem truer to me than many."

[Kerr MacCloud]

There was a certain air surrounding this male that stood before Kerr. Combined with the way that he changed his position, Kerr was unsure of whether to be uneased by this presence or to be thankful for another body in the cooling eve. It was quite obvious with how he stood that this man was from a much higher family than his own. He shifted his body as to sit upon his legs and straightened his back in an attempt to make himself appear that he was of high class as well.

Musical laughter seemed to echo through the silent park. Such a sound caused Kerr to relax, feeling all the fear he had wash away from his body. He slid his hand away from his sword and placed it gently onto his knees, right next to the other one. As the other spoke to him, defending his words, he was unable to help but feel pride. For once someone commented on something besides his small stature and his feminine looks. Yes, it had pleased him rather immensely and he wasn’t afraid to show so with a broad smile.

“Since the invention of the muskets, swords seem to becoming less available to the public. At least, that was what my father had stated.” Kerr tilted his head back and stared up to the glistening stars. “He always wanted the best for me. Fencing seemed to bring values that the muskets do not and to become a master with a sword takes years. An art that one will never obtain with firing a metal ball into someone’s chest. Besides, a sword is more accurate than that horrid musket.”

Certain words seemed to stick out more than others to him as he thought about what the other had said. The night was usually something feared upon, especially when one was in a new environment. Lowering his head, Kerr looked into the airy blue eyes once more and withdrew himself into his shell slightly. His words no longer confident as he spoke. “I do not mind having company.. But I never brought a blanket with me for you to sit upon.. The ground never really bothered me and the dirt is always washed out by the maids so I never really cared about being truly clean unless I knew I was expecting someone.”

[Aurelius Bianchi]

Aurelius made a pointed effort of putting those he encountered at ease. It was easier to seduce prey when they weren't terrified. He also found greater pleasure in their blood and in their company. He didn't make it a general habit of killing those from whom he drank. He liked having his options open, and if he didn't kill, then he found people weren't as inclined to hunt him down. The simpletons often blamed it on a bug then, and not on a being more like themselves than they cared to admit. In the end, there was little harm done, and he was able to feed in peace.

The very sound of his voice was one that caused others to be put at ease. And to lure them in. When he performed, he sang in a manner that captivated his audience. If one were to witness a performance and remain in control of their mind, they would see the others around them rendered in a stupor, lost to their senses, confused and dazed. When Aurelius sang, the crowd leaned forward in breathless anticipation. The hypnotic draw lingered in his speaking voice as well, though not as powerfully as when he sang. Still, it was difficult for some weaker-willed peoples to look away from him when he spoke.

He listened in fascination as the boy spoke. "I am afraid I never had the pleasure of learning, nor the aptitude. My gifts lay in other areas." In many other areas, but he didn't feel the need to reveal all of these at once, especially not to a stranger, no matter how adorable he might have been. The information he was spouting was too cute, and he couldn't help but smile in genuine interest. He was so sincere, and it was endearing. "Oh, I would imagine that in close combat the man with the sword would win." Oh, he was perfectly aware of this. He had seen it happen many times. Long lives were annoying like that.

He motioned to the ground beside the other. "Despite what my clothes might say about me, I have known dirt very intimately. I think I can survive a few minutes of its company." Saying this, he sat himself down and looked out at the oncoming night. "The nights in the city have nothing on the country. Still, I enjoy the culture that is available here." He paused. "Forgive me, I did not introduce myself. I am Aurelius Bianchi." He offered a delicate, gloved hand to the other. "By your accent, you are not from this city in particular."

[Kerr MacCloud]

There was a small smile upon Kerr’s face as he seen the little bit of enthrallment that seemed to shine on the other’s face. He took in pride knowing that someone else was interested in what he had learned. The others that lived in the little town house he was in thought that he was a waste of space. After all, being a scholar didn’t bring money in unless they managed to make good reading material and sell it. “No one’s gifts are the same. The Lord insured we were all different so we would work together.”

Kerr drew his eyes away from the other male and looked to the ground that rest beside him. His grayish eyes stared at the grass, as if trying to find the dirt that this man states he is accustomed to. He knew it by working out in the fields, but the other looked too high in the court to even have bothered to glance at his land. Finally he drew his eyes back to the other, only to pull himself into his shy shell a little more. “There is little culture where I am residing. The others, they do not understand me.”

Grey blue eyes widened slightly upon hearing that there was no real introduction. It was the first thing he learned. Names first then chat came afterwards. Inside he was punishing himself for not being the gentleman his father had taught him to be. With a slow, shaky hand, Kerr took the other’s hand and shook it gently. “My name is Kerr MacCloud. It is a pleasure to meet you Aurelius.” Hearing that his accent was picked up by the other made Kerr blush slightly, even when he didn’t bother to hide it. Placing his hands on his lap, Kerr looked into Aurelius’s eyes and gave him his shy smile. ”You are right, I am not from here. Where I hail from is a small village in Scotland. But your name also states that you are not even from here as well. My guess is, you are from across the pond.”

[Aurelius Bianchi]

Aurelius watched the smile and returned it with one of his own. The other was so sweet. It was almost saddening to see him in his current state. Something had happened to him. No baron should be out alone like this. There was such purity about him, and yet Aurelius felt his heart ache when he looked upon the lad. There was a sadness he knew. Loss. Poignant, agonizing loss. It drew him to this boy as much as his innocence, as it had to the many children he know claimed as his own. "I suppose He did. Very, very different." So different at times that it was unbelievable. But Aurelius had never been religious, and now wasn't truly any different. Things just worked out as they did for a reason.

He seated himself alongside Kerr. He didn't much enjoy getting dirty, at least not in a muck and grime sense, but he could make an exception for the time being. It would only be for a little while. The boy was lovely, enough to make Aure want to paint him on the spot. He wanted to know his thoughts, his spirit. It was refreshing to find such sincere beauty. He fought the urge to reach out and touch him. He didn't imagine it would be appreciated. "That saddens me. You seem, my friend, made for culture. You are quite handsome, you know. Your beauty would be wasted in a dull place." He winked to him then. "Trust me. I am an artist."

He gave Kerr's hand a reassuring squeeze as it was offered. "Worry not, dear boy. When I was a child, no one even wished to talk to me. The pleasure is all mine." He smiled pleasantly and plucked up a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers. "Mmm...Scotland. I have yet to travel there, but I hear that it is beautiful." He looked out across the darkened park, thinking of the mansion in Sienna. Home. "I am from Italy. Sienna, to be precise. It was my home for...many years. I wish nothing more than to return home. I...cannot, however."

[Kerr MacCloud]

Within an instant Kerr had dropped his gaze from the other’s eyes and stared down at his hands. Clasping them together, he nervously wrung them as he thought how to ask his question. After all he did not want to offend Aurelius after just meeting him so quickly. Nibbling on his bottom lip, he finally made up his mind and decided to ask. “Do you think that maybe the Lord had decided to give Lucifer the power to make the demons? As his own little way of punishing the sinners?” He began to nibble on his lip once more and shifted his gaze to the ground near his sword. “I don’t really want to believe it but I’ve heard a few people saying that if He could cast out Lucifer and burn his wings, then he could have also given him the power to make such hideous creatures..”

Once Aure had placed himself on the ground beside Kerr, Kerr had shuffled a little further away, allowing him more room. Being so close to another being that understood him after being alone for so long in self isolation that it made him blush. His head lifted up and he turned to Aurelius. Staring into his air-like blue eyes and listened to what he had to say. A weak smile was once again on his face and he began to wring his hands once more. “My father didn’t want me to be an ignorant baron and said that culture was very important. I had to agree with him. After all, I didn’t want to insult the king if he ever dared to visit the little village we used to own.” Kerr felt himself smile a little stronger as he was finally told he was handsome. Aurelius understood that men weren’t beautiful, that was a woman’s job. “Thank you.. You yourself are handsome, much more so than others I have seen.”

Almost instantly he felt bad as he listened to the other male’s bit of history. Being ignored was never truly fun unless you wanted the silence. “It is still rude and inconsiderate not to introduce yourself right away. Not introducing yourself right away is also uncultured, it makes you appear as nothing more than a bumbling brute.” Kerr watched as Aurelius picked a blade of grass and began to twirl it around in his fingers. He smiled, wanting to bring his new acquaintance to his homeland and show off its beauty. “Scotland is truly a beautiful place to live in. The soil is rich, the air clean and the grass was much greener in the country side. One day I hope to return there.”

Italy, it was one of the places where he first wanted to go to school. The culture there was much more rich than anywhere else and the language would have been wonderful to have learned. Alas his poor family did not have such money for his trip so he settled for something closer. “You are unable to return to your homeland? Surely you could return there one day? Whomever is angry at you would surely cool down after many years and you could return to die in your homeland.”