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[OOC: Private RP between myself and one other user! We're doing our OOC plotting via PM, so this should stay nice and tidy to read. Uh, also my narrative voice is meant to reflect Adrian as a character, so I'm sorry in advance because he's kind of awful.]


If there's one thing Adrian can't stand, it's being smothered, and that's exactly what he feels is happening. He's being smothered in the din of voices and socialization.

Granted, he's never been this displeased about a meeting before. Ordinarily, the coven of vampires he belongs to meets quietly and discreetly, discusses a few simple matters, keeps itself up to date on the affairs of its members, and disperses, all at a nice sensible hour after dark. Proper vampire conduct, in his opinion. Vampires are deadly elegance, after all.

But this! This is not only vampires.

For some appalling reason, his coven has elected to reach out lately and to attempt to communicate at least a little with other rare or magical sentient creatures so they can form some kind of utterly pointless brotherhood. Horrible. At the first sign of potential and repulsive conversation with lesser beings, Adrian had retreated to the far end of the long room, but it hadn't spared him from all the indoor lighting and warm living beings. Disgusting. No vampire should ever want to be seen during daylight hours, and it's only seven o'clock.

Maybe if he ignores everyone enough and sulks openly, his aura of contempt and menace will deter conversation, he rationalizes. There's certainly no way he's planning on engaging any of these useless and inferior creatures.

Being a crime fighting vigilante isn't always gunfire, convoluted puzzle solving and explosions. For Roy, downtime from the action is important. A trip to the woods, an excursion to the public library, an appearance at a meeting to discuss major issues concerning many walks of life- that is Roy's idea of relaxation.

Recently, one of his cousins, claiming to have been "enlightened," urged Roy to come with him to a meeting that was going to occur a week from then. This meeting, Roy's cousin told him, was going to shake the foundations of international politics forever. The marginalized creatures of the world would unite and...well, Roy wasn't exactly sure what they were uniting for. Something about ending violence against endangered mythical species; habitat destruction; solidarity- sure, that was a given, but Roy also saw on that foldable leaflet demands for greater resource use; embargoes on certain products; a return to the 1600's? Was that even possible?

This was the first time in quite a while that a brotherhood of creatures caught his attention; hopefully they'd be doing something more noble than just self-enrichment. Roy went, partly because he wanted to support his cousin, partly because he didn't, and partly to educate himself on the matters of the other creatures, on top of his own experiences. There was also that space reptile that was supposed to be showing up to debunk conspiracies about impersonating world leaders and promote beastman solidarity; Roy was really looking forward to that.

No such space reptile had shown up.

Roy and his yeti cousin had been one of the last creatures to arrive, as the social mingling ended and the formal meeting soon began. At the moment, Roy sits in a stuffy wooden chair, in a row facing the conference table, which is full of elite representatives, which Roy is not, and could not become, possibly because of those horribly gaudy clothes he always wore while fighting crime. His Miami Vice-esque getup earned him incredulous looks from some of the vampires, and even more from the bigfoots.

And it still does. One of the speakers up front, a sixty year-old werewolf in his towering human form, has just finished saying his piece about reducing the number of vampire attacks on werewolves. One pause later, Roy raises his hairy arm; the other creatures turn to see him and definitely not that bright green polo shirt that clashes with the warmer, more baroque surroundings.

"Yes?" Roy is cued. He notes the indifferent expression on the sixty year-old werewolf's face, compared to the more...impatient ones on the vampires.

Not wasting a beat, Roy begins his sorta-query: "You know that last incident you just mentioned? That was actually a sasquatch and not a werewolf. I've worked with the victim before. He's been mistaken as a wolfman many times. Actually, come to think of it, I was there when that happened, and I think I saw-"

"Sir," the werewolf interrupts. "You seem to be talking about another incident altogether."

"Actually, I..."

"With all due respect, son, the specifics will have to wait." A vampire rises to his feet, identifiable as such only because he's seated at the appropriate table. He looks like an ordinary, if weary, man of about thirty-five. Fangs are not pronounced enough to really be visible from any distance. "Things like this are exactly the reason we need to start properly communicating with one another, however. We already have humanity perpetuating terrible stories about us; we certainly have no need of the same from each other."

Adrian rolls his eyes as a debate kicks up, with all its participants trying their best to be civil. He respects the senior vampires--after all, they are wise and experienced servants to the soulless void--but sometimes their efforts to be good and, well, human, are frankly appalling. The point of immortality isn't to blunder around trying to solve other people's problems. They'd been spared the eternity of death, clearly for a greater purpose than trying to keep from hurting the feelings of a bunch of obviously inferior beings.

Roy, being ever ignorant of this curse of immortality, does not realize this. He is attuned to mortal assumptions, not helped by hanging out with many humans since being a wee haystack. Anything about a great bigfoot master destiny is non-existent in his world. There are great circumstances, Roy can personally attest, that make bigfoot virtues more susceptible to transformation into human virtues, more so than any other cryptid known to man.

Too many human virtues and not enough bigfoot virtues, Roy frequently internalizes. With his weird choice in clothes and awkward words to add, he feels at times like the most 'human' person in the whole conference. But he carries on listening, arms crossed, if only to make sure he doesn't disappoint his yeti cousin sitting next to him. That fellow knows what being a bigfoot is all about, minus the whole "not being seen" part which he blames Roy for only recently.

The debate soon dies down; the meeting resumes its orderly form. It is in Roy's best interest to shut up and listen, like any good P.I. would do. For the rest of the meeting he takes notes with pen and notepad, writing down the concerns of the many parties represented in the room. Underground housing concerns for the mole people, gargoyle statue vandalism, vampire hunter awareness, werewolf discrimination in real estate, among other things.

Finally, at one hundred minutes past commencement, the meeting reaches its end.

Adrian spends the entirety of the meeting filling his black hardcover journal with elaborate drawings of pentagrams and some genuinely nicely-handwritten poetry about the yawning abyss. At least if he and his vampire brethren are to be subjected to the woeful incompetence of others, he can spend this time to pay tribute to the dark gods. Yes. He considers plans for later that include lighting circles of black candles and stalking through the woods.

Finally as things wrap up, he stands up, gathering his cape all around himself. He will bid a proper farewell to the senior vampires and no one else.

"The night can now truly begin!" Adrian says by way of goodbye to a cluster of his superiors, who are attempting to converse with some harpies before they leave. "I tire of these foolish mortals and their sad need for--"

"Adrian," Arthur says tiredly, "this is not the time. Please, have some respect for our collective efforts, even if this isn't your favorite. The, uh... darkness would be appeased by your efforts." Might as well appeal to the only thing he seems to care about.

The young man straightens considerably at mention of The Darkness, indeed, his only true love in this wretched world. How calming and profound it will be to return to it and get out of these horrendous fluorescent lights.

"However," the older man continues before Adrian the Longwinded can launch into a terrible monologue, "we do also have a task for you. We ask that you meet and spend some time with another creature. Clearly he has a dialogue to continue with us, but none of us are available to speak with him just yet. Could you please meet with him and speak to him on our behalf?"

"Wh-" Adrian would have gotten red in the face if it were still possible.

"It's important, or we wouldn't be asking. And don't worry--we'll send someone by to check on your sister and let her know what's going on."

"F-fine..." The thought of Eleanor being home alone with that atrocious French prettyboy makes Adrian more than a little furious, but being a vampire and doing his Vampire Duties are both pretty important to him. "If it's for my status as a vampire, I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to do my duty to our brothers in kind. Who is this lowly mortal wretch I'm supposed to hang around with, anyway?"

Right on cue, someone belches loudly in a corner of the room. It's a long one, too, the first satisfying not-give-a-flip burp Roy's let out in months.

Roy tried to remind himself- what was the protocol on burping again? Was it...burp outside only, not indoors, or...well, that just happened, and Roy felt it was mildly bigfoot-esque. Very representative. Awkward nonetheless.

Roy sharply exhales. The yeti next to him shakes his head. "I've heard better," he bluntly states with a fraction of his avalanche-causing sonorous voice. "You're losing it, Roy."

"Shut up, Ray," Roy talks back. "I'd like to see you do better."

"Don't," Ray responds, taking one last sip of his incredibly hypnotic blood-colored punch. "I can bring down this entire building with one brap."

Roy looks at his bulky cousin with begrudgingly fond regard, arms to sides, his half-shaven face forming into a little smile. "Yeah, I know. You're a real killer, you."

They laugh a little, then Roy continues: "Ray, listen, I'm gonna be here for a bit. Something just came up."

"Like what?"

"It's...kinda..." Roy's eyes dart to the empty table next to him, then back to Ray's. "It's real important. Safe to say I won't be joining you, Ace and the rest of the gang tonight."

Roy nods; Ray gets it. Freelance work just came up. "Well, alright," the yeti says reluctantly. "I hope it goes well for you."

They shake hands, hug and turn towards opposite directions. Ray exits the meeting room; Roy begins his lanky stride towards the person of interest he is designated to speak to. In his mind, the walk is slow motion; the imaginary figment of an exploding car behind him does not dent his pace. Stupid human crime serials.

He draws closer to this...this kid, height differences taken into account. And then he opens his unscrupulous yap.

"Hey, how you doing? You're the one I'm supposed to speak to, right?" Roy stops in front of the kid, extending a hairy brown arm for either a handshake or bloodsucking. "Name's Roy."

Adrian stands stiffly, lip curled slightly in disgust, looking down at the large, ungainly hand of this... thing. He's aware, however, of the watch of his superiors, and so he slowly seizes it in his own, aware that this is probably the only non-murderous physical contact he's made with a warm, living entity in probably nearly a year. Ugh.

He shakes the fellow's hand in one stiff motion, then immediately retracts his grasp and attaches it to the edge of his cape as though it can somehow purge all the moral germs off him. Ugh. Ugh.

"Adrian Irving," Adrian responds finally. He's always been tall for his age, but this creature is notably taller than himself, and also a lot larger overall. The vampire looks him over appraisingly with skeptical gold eyes. It doesn't look like the odds would be stacked in his own lanky favor if they decided to fight, even given the supposed predator advantage.

He's aware of his fellow vampires mingling, dispersing. God, he just wants to get out of here and go back home to his proper (mostly) solitary routine. "I'm not going to mince words: I didn't want to be here in the first place, and I kind of have other things to do." Vampire Things and defending his house from foreign influences are definitely at the top of that list. "Maybe we can just hurry and get this over with, for both our sakes. I'm sure you've got better things to do, too, given your sad, fleeting existence, ruled by the passage of time."

"Yeah, I'll be quick." The bigfoot pulls out his notepad from the sidekick of his khakis, and brandishes the corresponding ballpoint pen. "Gotta make this conversation last, like it’s my last. I mean, not drone on. You know?” Roy’s eyes turn towards his notes. “But I, uh, kinda want details.” He means to say 'long-lasting impressions.' He observes Adrian's obstinate composure and attempts to not fumble more words. “So that, what, that would mean I’d have to keep you long, too.” At this point a better jab at immortality pops in his head, but it’s too late for that. “Hold on a sec.”

There are inter-species conflicts to inquire about, drawing from Roy's recent misadventures, as well as the brotherhood. There’s also a more recent, seemingly hallucination-induced matter to pursue, but Roy would need to get the right info first.

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the meeting room, only tempered by Roy shuffling through the notepad with his lean fingers. While he internally monologues like a noir wise guy through earlier events in his memory, he peeks briefly at his notes from three months ago, still at the front of the notepad.

"First of all-" Roy pauses to flip his notes a few pages back and forth. "First of all,” he resumes, looking downwards at young Irving, “You have anything to say about the increase in vampire attacks recently on non-humans?”

Really tedious meetings followed by obnoxious interrogations were absolutely not Adrian's idea of a good time. He could be dedicating himself to the dark arts, to learning arcane mysteries about necromancy, to writing morbid verse in flourishing calligraphy with an inkwell by candlelight--

"Well it's a little less obvious and dangerous than the alternative, for one thing." Vampires can't change anyone but regular humans into vampires, firstly, and secondly, humanity is less likely to be concerned or suspect their existence if the only ones dying are out of sight in the first place. "Why they're even bothering to try to kill sentient beings when the higher-ups are so ridiculous about it is beyond me, though. I wouldn't want them breathing down my neck for stepping out of line." Adrian eyes his interviewer with contemptuous suspicion. "I don't suppose you happen to know how many rogue vampires have been suspected of causing the problem?"

Rogue vampires have been a problem for centuries, since long before Adrian came into the picture. There haven't been many of them, but even one is too many, and the problems they leave behind before eventually being caught and destroyed are enough to shake up the lives of any magical creature. They kill beyond the boundaries of who and what is permissible, and in doing so, jeopardize the secrecy of their own existence, not to mention the existences of various other species.

"You could say it's of... personal interest."

"No idea," Roy responds after a few more page flips. "Believe it or not, I've barely caught glimpses of the killers; they work too fast. Deadly vampire speed. Take it as you will, I'd say take that as a compliment. But-"

He looks up- down at Adrian again. "Well, okay, I need to backtrack a bit." At least while the bigfoot has his notes out he can clarify a lot of issues posed by the few known vampire friends of his. "Work with me on this, but..."

He pauses, apprehensive. Roy feels incredibly dirty, undignified for even thinking about asking this question. What, the brotherhood didn't make it clear earlier? No wonder he's got few vampire friends. Ten long seconds pass before Roy finally asks: "Do you guys suck blood because you want to, or because you have to?"