Circle of Lies (Sergei)

[Avila Abendroth]

Avila sighed as she washed her face, looking in the bathroom mirror for a moment, observing her red eyes. She'd been escaping away from people whenever she had the chance, not wanting people to witness her usual eating habits. It wasn't like it was every day where you saw a person drinking blood, and despite the fact that she could now stomach a raw steak, it was still something she ended up having a massive stomach ache over. Weaning herself off of the substance her father had forced her to survive on had turned out to be a lot harder than she thought it would, every day turning into a struggle to get the nutrients she needed to survive as a human, but also getting the blood that was keeping her body alive. She shook her head, checking her fangs silently.

I am such a monster compared to most of the island...

She shook her head a bit at the thought, pushing away from the mirror and looking down at her pale skin, sighing a bit. She turned and grabbed the thermos off of the counter, clipping it to her belt before stepping out of the bathroom, looking down the hallway that she had ended up in. She normally chose the more secluded spots of the West Tower to get away from people, but that didn't mean she always avoided the people she tried so hard to avoid. She smiled softly to herself, bowing her head for a moment before stepping off, satisfied that she hadn't encountered anyone on the step out of the bathroom. She turned and started walking down the hallway before stopping, footsteps echoing from around the corner, the girl wincing quite a bit as she took a few small steps back. 

"Futu-i...."

[Sergei Tepish]

Sergei wasn't much for patrolling, he didn't like the long moments of nothing happening got him on edge. It especially didn't help that he had been extremely hungry and had no real way of cooking himself something. What he wouldn't have given for a warm leg of lamb with juices still flowing. Or chilled beef shavings with a bourbon sauce, or duck with a raspberry vinegar based sauce. He shook his head, the thought of food had danced into his thoughts and threatened to throw him off his game. But soon his mind was on other thing, like the parties, all the ones held at the family castle, with fake friends, opportunistic nobles trying to marry or screw into the right families, and bootlickers. But the music, the food, the dancing, all that went through his mind.

He remembered the one right before the "Separatist terrorist groups" starting popping up. It was months after he'd returned from his retreat into the woods and quit his vices. He was enthusiastic about guiding his country into a new age and talked a lot about the modernization he planned on making, something that caused a few arguments, but he had rallied some of the other families to his cause. Then he snapped back into the now when a familiar scent caught his nose. Copper, faint but still there somewhere, like it was in a container. With a sniff he rounded the corner and spotted the young lady standing in the hall. "Excuse me miss...what is that smell."

[Avila Abendroth]

People, the one thing the young vampire-like girl hated to see. It wasn't that she hated people, they just made her nervous, scared about how they will react to the powers she knew were unsettling to a lot of people. Blood made people squeamish, often times pushing them away from her unintentionally. Others viewed it as something corrupted, something they needed to keep an eye on with the assumption that she'd use it to harm people whenever possible. Avila started to bite down on her lip, the feeling of her fangs reminding her instantly why that was a bad idea as she took several steps back, her eyes locking onto the large figure as it rounded the corner. A guy, just great for her. She'd already had to deal with too many flirts, her accent combined with her looks often times made her more exotic to the rest of the island, who all seemed to be from primarily English speaking countries.

That's when the sight alone started to click with the young noble. Something was familiar about him, very familiar about him. Her eyes glanced over the man, noting the accent he spoke with for a moment before it clicked. He was Romanian, and he looked to be of one of the other noble families. Should she be concerned? Maybe. Did he recognize her? Obviously not due to his question and the way he addressed her. If he had been looking for her he would have probably recognized her right away. The girl shifted her weight a bit, her thermos tapping lightly on her side, the question hitting her. What did he smell? She didn't smell anything. Was it possible she had missed something important? She opened her mouth and closed it for a moment, not really sure what to say for a moment before speaking.

"Nu-mi miroase nimic... Yeu sound like yeu are not a native english speaker... Euere are yeu zrom?" she responded, her calm, slow and somewhat sung speech probably making it obvious that she was from the Transylvania area.