Post by Deleted on Sept 2, 2013 1:01:45 GMT -5
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Emilio silently pondered the bizarre paradox of what a mortal who feared the sight of blood would do if they were ever turned into a vampire, like himself. This ludicrous thought entertained him from his doorstep at The Coffin House, all the way down to the other end of Knockturn Alley, as the chill March night grew darker and colder with the passing hours. Blood was always everywhere for a vampire. It was the inescapable reality of the existence of the Resurrected. Whereas a normal wizard or witch could simply look away or remove themselves from the scene of bloodshed, Emilio could no more shut out the scent and desire for blood than stand in the sun and expect to live. Indeed, it bothered him slightly less with each passing year, but, even approaching his 25th year as an Undying, he still needed sustenance at least two times a week, and tonight the supper time bell was ringing persistently in his ear. Emilio Rosier needed to hunt, and to feed. He would, of course, never prey in his prowling grounds. Even in the chaotic state the wizarding world was in, a suspicious death on Knockturn was far too much of a spectacle to risk. His walk down the Alley was not vital, yet he made it part of his routine. A stroll at normal human pace, as a last attempt at being a normal human, before handing over to inhuman instinct. Luckily, there were almost never any enticing scents on Knockturn. Milo fed on all sorts. And, though the malicious tasted far sweeter, Knockturn Alley did not tend to hold the type of malicious individuals Milo found the most appealing. The majority of the Alley’s inhabitants and commoners were your run of the mill ill intentioned wizards; no depth, no complexity to them. Ironically, it was in places where you’d expect the more good natured wizards and witches that Milo found his better meals; wolves nestled comfortably among the sheep. Imagine Milo’s surprise, then, when a scent utterly unknown to him on this Alley, indeed, anywhere for many years, struck him right outside one of his least favourite stores. For the first time in 25 years, Emilio Rosier deigned to glance at the dirty front door of Borgin & Burke's. The infamous dealership held little esteem in the vampire’s mind, of late. Before his transformation, Milo, young, bright, and full of boyish aspirations had come into the store, drawn by its fascinating wares, and eventually worked up the courage to approach the old and wizened owners, seeking apprenticeship. The aura they gave off immediately rubbed him the wrong way, even before they mustered enough contempt and sarcasm to respond to him. Burke was especially vile, in a sickeningly condescending way, and his conditions were as crooked as his carcass, Milo would later reflect. Shot down, he left the store without a word, and, upon returning a few years later as a vampire, strode right past their door without pause, to take up residence and ownership of The Coffin House. Almost overnight, his supernatural gifts aided him in reviving the ailing family business, and making the Coffin House a fierce competitor for Burgin & Burke. He specialized in more exotic items, and had the skill and speed to create unique items of his own, through meddling in potions and alchemy. He never met the crooked old wizards again, yet patrons could sense the unspoken air of tension between the two stores, at opposite ends of the Alley. Here Milo stood again, occupying space outside their door for the first time in over 25 years, drawn by the same wonder he had felt as a young mortal, and equally unsure of what exactly urged him to open their door once again. Well, not entirely unsure. It was definitely a mortal draw. And mortal she was indeed. Milo spotted the source of his distraction amid the cluttered shelves that immediately greeted visitors past the doorway. There at the counter was a particularly attractive witch. Attractive, seemingly stern, yet bored and aloof. She did not even seem to register the door bell signalling his entry. Curiosity getting the better of him, Milo moved down among the rows of shelves, studying her with a frown. She looked utterly out of place in this ancient store run by even more ancient wizards. Surely she was some relative, otherwise, why on earth would someone so young and fair even consider working for those old bats? She looked and smelled enchanting, yet Milo’s impulse to feed was held at bay by stronger sense of intrigue. Perhaps he should go feed then come back to study her more. It would be a great deal easier to speak to her with a clear head. Still, he made no motion toward the door, but rather snatched about his mind for words as he approached the counter. She seemed to notice him the very moment he had opted to speak, which was, in turn, the moment they had additional company. Two unimposing Ministry wizards marched through the door, casting beady looks at the shelves, then, spotting the young shopkeeper, grinned stupidly at each other and sauntered up to the counter. Milo shifted back quietly into the darker aisles, extremely annoyed, and wondering how long these fools would take in their “inspection.” Normally, he would not care, but now they were a time wasting nuisance, and needed to be elsewhere. Already he was deciding exactly how he would see that happen in minutes. |
TAG: Bunny Box Britt | WORDS: 920 | NOTES: Waiting for a ride in the dark. The night city grows. Look and see her eyes, they glow