When you mention the words ' starting over ' to someone, it can mean a lot of things. Moving somewhere new, getting married - even divorcing someone. It can be a scary experience. Yet, it can also be wonderful and exciting. A time full of new adventures and problems - a time when you could run into a dead end, or leap off a cliff, spread your wings, and fly. It's definitely a time where just about anything is possible, so long as you've got the time, the money, and the ability to do so.

For one particular man, ' starting over ' was something he'd wanted to do many times in his life. Escaping his father, escaping his home, and in the end - the confinements of mortality. While the male had wanted to start over, in a lot of ways and senses of the word - dying was not an adventure he'd wanted to have a go at. So, he'd taken some risks, a few cheap yet costly shots at something more. The male ended up dead, of course, as all mortals tend to at some point or another.

Unlike most mortals, however, death was not the end for Sable. Death was, as mentioned, a ' starting over ' point. It was, as equally mentioned, a time full of very scary, yet exciting, points. While one might not be able to call what he's done since his death ' living ', or even being a part of the living, it's as close to that as he could have ever hoped or dreamed of getting once he was turned.

Some might not find being a vampire to be too exciting. Really, being a vampire pertained the same sort of things that being a mortal did. At first. The only differences were ducking away once morning came crawling into the sky, and drinking the blood of mortals who just happened to wander around in a drunken state. While there may have been many of Sable's kind who killed mortals and drained them dry, Sable had not been quite the bloodthirsty and unsatisfiable creature others of his kind were ( save for in his stupidest of moments, when he could not quite control himself as well as he would later wanted to have been ). It was after the beginning of his new found existence that the male came to understand just what he was, and how he was absolutely limitless!

Supposedly.

The male, after a series of years ( almost one hundred, to be nearly exact ), did in fact find out his limits. Such as sunlight, and just how harsh the affects of it upon him could be. Even the limits of not drinking the blood of a human, and testing how well animal blood worked in comparison. Blood rage came and went at the end of each, twisting his insides and sending him over the edge of sanity - leaving him only to wake naked in the barn of a farmer. All the animals had been slain and a trail of bodies had created a path from the house to the barn. Neither elders nor children had been pardoned from their fate. Each had been just as delicious and able to feed his cravings as anything else. Blood rage is something the male even yet does not want to suffer or go through again, even if he can't remember it. The two occasions that it happened were enough for him, in spite of the lack of memory over anything that happened, and being left to only guess what he'd done in the end - or to have to have it spread around him, the scraps of his feast.

As one can imagine, to have lived as long as he has, the male had to have had various points in his life where he ' started over '. Indeed he did. The male lived through a good portion of a Celtic life, and lived through a good portion of the charming and illusive Victorian era, and so much more. Each time the male ' died ', he would merely sleep for fifty or so years, before coming back into being, back into the world - to peek around and see how things had changed, to traverse his favorite spots in Europe. Aghast was he when he would note that wonderful or decades old pubs were gone and in it's place brothels or operas, in some cases homes of nobles who'd bought the land from previous owners. Joyous, of course, the male would also be to see how far the mortals had come over the time he'd been sleeping.

The last time the male had closed his eyes and back to the world was after he'd made the cross from Europe to America. He lived through about a hundred years before falling into yet another slumber. The male had, in the time he'd been in America and living well, charming many of the mortals, a very good businessman. He'd sold antiques and created some of the most charming clocks anyone could imagine. Time had, since his death, been one of those things that intrigued him. Sable had an endless amount of it in his hands, and indeed, he could have learned and done a lot int hat time - yet, because he'd had so much, the male had felt the lack of need to do anything. He'd squandered much of it away. When clocks and business had become just as boring to him as many other things in life, the male had ordered a stone coffin to be made, and a spare room in the basement of his little antique store. To the naked eye, and on the blueprints, there would be no such room. It wouldn't be obvious once one lurked about in the basement, no matter whether the room was amazingly well lit, or not.

One night, he moved the coffin inside, placed it on a slab of concrete, and laid down to rest. He'd closed the shop down a week prior, stating he was moving away and that there would plausibly be someone to pick up where he left off before too long - but that had been a lie. The male had let the shop be purchased by others. Over the years it was turned into many things. Sable, if asked, might not be able to recall all the events of the days over the years, but he can recall each time the shop changed and what it became, and a bit of the world and even how it changed over the years. Sable had been able to pinpoint and lock away the noises he'd heard in his mind, though never quite waking. Dreams had plagued him while he slept - good and bad.

It was as the stretch of sleeping came that was dreamless, did the male finally decide that it was time to wake. The world around him was quiet, but loud. There was a buzzing of energy, the emotions of mortals that had recently stumbled around the upper floors of the shop floating down to him.

Sable had braced his hands on the cold slab of concrete that made the lid of his coffin, and slid it to the side, as if it were nothing more than a piece of wood. Not all the way off the coffin, but enough to let his thing figure slip out. Landing with nothing more than a light thud, the male turned, replaced the lid of the coffin, and straightened his clothes - which had various holes and looked very tarnished and poorly kept, and very very old.

Stretching, sickening cracks echoing in the small room, the male let his body relax from it's sore state. He then turned, and made for the door that could only be seen from inside the room, and pressed against it, forcing it open. Clattering came from the other side of the door, as if furniture was falling. The grinding of wood and metal against the floor echoed through the basement as he continued to press against the door. Stepping out and glancing around in the darkness, a dustier darkness than the one in the room behind him, Sable forced his lungs to work as he took a deep breath. The sickly sweet smell of humans floated into his nose and coated his tongue, bathing his senses. He recognized the twisting of his internal organs very well. Leaving the door to the ' secret chamber ' open, the male pushed stray bits of broken and ancient furniture out of his way. Making a straight line to the staircase at the far side of the room, the male made his way up and to the door there.

Pausing just at the door, hand an inch from the handle, the male ' grounded ' himself. It was night outside the shop - the sun had probably just ebbed out of the sky over the town, which meant it would be dark - but not completely so. Twisting the handle of the door, Sable opened it easier than he had the previous door, and stepped out, glancing around. The male was entirely interested in seeing how the looks of the shop had been changed ( as undoubtedly, over the years, they had been since he'd been awake ), and if there were any mortals lingering around. If there weren't, it would be fine.

It would just mean a night of shopping and exploring the city, buying new clothes, and tracking down the paperwork of the shop to see who currently owned it - if anyone.

Freedom, independence, self-sufficiency: all things that young humans strive for. A young woman turning on her mother with harsh words and meaningless rebellion for merely the illusion that she is pulling away. A young man bolstering his pride with haughty words and arrogance until he believes that he is finally free of all the chains that his parents and others had shackled him with.

Of course, all of this is nothing but illusion. Smoke and mirrors put in place in a youth's mind merely there to convince themselves. There is never any true freedom, mever any real independence or self-sufficiency that doesn't come with such a price that, if known, few of these spirited youth's would like to pay. Yet, year after year, decade after decade, the young branch out. They leave their homes and families, the only things they've ever known to 'start over' somewhere new and on their own. Very few ever regret this decision, though most eventually wish they'd never made it. The troubles and difficulties this adventure and expedition away from the known brings on them makes them long for the relative simplicity of the lives they left behind.

This is a never ending cycle. No matter how many times it happens it will never end, will never stop. People are, at the heart of everything, to much the same. The same is true for a simple boy of working heritage. Though he had little to be proud of and very few to look down on his arrogance and pride built and grew and festered for years. Then, as happens when things have finally built to their peak, the boy left just as countless youths had done before him. He stormed away in a fit of anger and self-righteousness leaving his parents shaking their heads and waiting for his eventual return. He promised himself 'I am right!' and 'They are wrong!'. He told himself 'They had no right to do and say such atrocities!'. When truly, they did. They were preparing him for just this moment.

A job. The first thing that this boy, Brian, knew he would need. Home, food, and other such necessities weren't quite so important as this one thing. None of those things would prove to his parents that he could make it; they would merely show his parents that he could survive. A job it was that he found as a bus boy. Such a degrading job for such a mighty man! His mind screamed at him. His pride smashed, his ego bruised, he kept this job for years. Now, nearly 5 years later he finally has the money to fulfill his dream. His dream of becoming self-sufficient and becoming something more than the lowly scum that he still considered his parents. He had enough money to buy the building that had been sitting empty for all the years of his 'freedom'. He had enough money to buy the building that he would turn into his dream of his own pub.

He had enough money to buy the building, and buy it he did. Though he would never admit it (his pride was still intact somehow after all these years of having it beaten down), the only way he had been able to afford it with the scant funds he had was the fact that the building had been deserted for so long. No one had wanted it for so long that he had been able to buy it for nearly nothing. Though, for him, nearly nothing also included his small flat and nearly every dime he'd made for the past 5 years. This didn't stop him from being happy though. He'd done it! He was finally making his dream come true. Now all he had to do was finish it. He had to fix the building and somehow find enough money to furnish it with all the things he fantasized about.

"I will do it. I will make my dreams come true. Somehow..." He whispered into the night as he looked upon his new investment. A light of determination shined brightly in his eyes as his hand gripped tighter to the hammer it held. He'd just finished nailing up the "Sold" sign outside. The sight of it alone made him smile.

While the fall and the rise of the hammer previous had been lost on the male, he did hear the speech of the male outside the shop - which also brought the rush of the male's blood into Sable's mind. While the male would admit he was quite ' hungry ', the lure of the other's blood wasn't so strong that Sable didn't first creep through the shop quietly. The human's voice had been male, he analyzed. Pretty young in comparison to how old they could tend to get in this day and age, but not too young - not a toddler or ' pre - teen ' ( or, whatever they were called ) of some sort. Which was quite pleasing to the Sable, since he doubted he'd have to put up with the idiocy of someone at that age.

Then again, children and teenagers tended to be quite a bit easier to deal with when it came to why he looked the way he did, why he was there in that particular area, and even further - bought into the thought of him actually being a vampire. At least, in most cases, and in others - they could be the first to give in and bend to the thought of ' maybe '.

Sable weighed his options as he made his way through the semi-darkness of the building, to a very large main room ( which looked very different compared to how it had when he'd first opened shop all those years ago ). Windows littered it, though most were clothed in curtains. ' Sneaking ' towards the large window that sat beside the door ( if he was correct, which he was ), that led outside. Sable wasn't quite sure why he was moving around and trying to make as little sound as possible, but it seemed to the thing to do, even if he doubted the human could hear him from all the way outside.

Standing in front of the curtain which was drawn over the largest window, Sable gripped the cloth in his hands and tugged it open ever so slightly peeking through the narrow slit created. Instantly, the dim light of a fading sunset blinded him, and he pulled back slightly. Blinking a few times and letting his eyes adjust to the light, the male leaned forward and again and looked out of the window, gaze roaming over the shops and streets just outside this one building. Everything had changed, and while it shouldn't have - as it always did, Sable was somewhat surprised.

A shiver passed through him and he opened the curtains just a bit more, so that about half his face would plausibly be visible. Looking from one side to the other, Sable's gaze rested on the male that stood outside the shop, watching him intently through the curtain. Analyzing humans was something he enjoyed doing, even if it was quite rude to stare.

Letting out a light sigh, eyes narrowing, the male let his mind slip to thought for a moment. To wait around inside the shop until the other realized he was there, or came inside of his own free will, or to fling the door open and surprise him. Sable wasn't sure if he wanted to speak with the other now or later, or even what he'd say to the male. Either way, it had to be done, specially since the other seemed to have something to do with Sable's ' home '.

Flinging the left side of the curtain open, which would have to catch the other's eye, Sable reached forward with his left hand and let his somewhat dirty and quite long/sharp nail tap against the glass, as if to further draw the others attention. He then waved at the male, as if beckoning him to come inside.

Sable was quite, and he would admit, forward and very pompous/self assured.

While he might not have gotten any further than getting the other to come into the shop, the male mentally kept reminding himself that as long as he stayed calm and came off as confident, nothing could go wrong! The human didn't look all that strong, though that hammer of his did pose quite a threat. While Sable's ' gift ' had been strength ( and not something such as telepathy or flight, sadly ), he was the type to go quite a ways out of his own way to keep from harming anyone - unless it was his only choice.

Which it rarely ever was, oddly enough.

Having done all that he'd needed to do outside of his new acquirement, the young human let his head drop. He had nothing but this now. If it failed, he'd be ruined. Not just in the literal sense of the term. Sure, he would be homeless, jobless (he'd quit the moment he bought the building saying 'It's time I found something suited for a man such as myself.'), and completely broke, not a penny to his name. This wasn't what bothered him though. If this venture failed he'd be left with no other option than to prove his parents, his family, right. He'd have to go home, beg for forgiveness, ask to be accepted back. The thought of it all was unquestionable to Brian. He wouldn't fail. He'd die before he let his pride reach such a decrepit level.

Turning to go inside his new home, seeing as he no longer had his apartment, Brian was quickly aware of a flicker of movement behind one of the curtains inside. They were floor length, nearly heavy enough to be considered drapes rather than curtains, and he figured that it was probably a pesky rat. He made a mental note to pick up rat traps and poison the next time he had any money. The wearied male kneeled down and began to gather his things to him. A ratty backpack, that had belonged to some soldier, now dead, in WW1 that he'd picked up from a thrift store, was his biggest property item. It was filled with all sorts of things, from the scant clothing he owned, to tattered paperbacks that he'd kept from his years as a studious schoolboy. The only other items were the hammer, a thin coat, and his headscarf and as he gathered them to his person (they'd been carelessly thrown off when Brian had first arrived) he noticed another motion of activity at the same window as before. Not giving any indication that he'd seen it, at first the boy merely peeked up at the window from the edge of his eyes. When he saw the face, or half a face, he decided that he was imagining things.

Brian kept this assumption until the curtain was thrown wide. Almost as if gripped by an invisible force somehow connect to the curtain, the male tipped backwards as if he too had been thrown. He stared at the face in the window for a moment, his breath racing and heart beating fearful blood through his veins in overtime. Swallowing hard as his mind got over its initial surprise, he gathered his things, much faster than before, and hefted them into his arms. His steps long, angry, and purposeful, the males legs carried him to his door in no time at all. Thinking that somehow he'd been broken in to he tried the doorknob and was shocked to find it still locked. There was even dust on it. No one had gone in through the door in at least a week; that was the last time that Brian himself had gone. With this revelation, he puzzled over the options. The intruder hadn't gone through the door, the only two windows that opened at the moment were the ones to the basement and they were too small for the person he'd seen, and there were no visible broken windows. This arose a question. How had he gotten in.

Resisting the urge to peek, Brian deftly unlocked the door using his new key. It opened easily, if not just a tad sticky at first. Opening it just a bit, then nudging it open the rest of the way with one hard touch from the toe of his boot, the male stood in the doorway. His form silhouetted by the setting sun behind him, he called into the room. "Who are you and why are you here?" His voice, loud and demanding, reached every corner of the room.

((It's quite shameful to me how much your posts dwarf mine >_<))

( XD;; Sorry, I tend to write quite a bit, and most of it is just random babbling. I find I have a really hard time keeping a main focus in my posts and tend to wander, and when I try to edit, well - I keep adding until it works. Dx I`m working on the randomness of some things, but it's not going so well.

Hopefully this isn't too short, but it feels like it, compared to the length of my usual posts. =__=;; )

One such as Sable could not hide his amusement as the male went about falling backwards. An even larger grin stretched over his features. Stepping back into the darkness of the shop, and away from the light of the outside world ( even though it still poured into the building through the window and open curtains ). Wrapping one of his arms around his waist, letting the other dangle at his side, Sable backed from the window and moved closer to the door, but still stood a good ten feet away, not wanting it to swing open and hit him, or have the human male leap from the doorway and attack him - which was entirely plausible and had happened on more than one occasion before. Those encounters had brought quite a few scars to his face, hands, and upper torso - once even his leg - but they were quite gone by now, healed and smooth on his skin. The male, under his clothes, could be considered absolutely flawless for some of the things he'd been through - which was why many didn't believe him when he mentioned doing something along the lines of construction, or falling a few stories off a building and whatnot.

Sable, however, probably wouldn't have believed himself either. While it might have been a bit odd, the male was somewhat envious of the human's healing ability, or lack there of. Scars were the proof that things had happened in their life that had been dangerous, and that always made for a good conversation. The male knew he was and could be quite boring once he opened his mouth, but when one had a thousand stories to go through, and an endless sea of people to tell them to ( at least, for Sable's thinking path ), he could never get boring! At least, he hoped not.

The vampire's movements all took no more than a few seconds, of course, and Sable was waiting patiently for the other male to come inside the shop. Which, when he did, only amused Sable further. As the door was thrown up, Sable winced slightly from the male's dark figure against the setting sun in the background. His eyes fought to adjust to the odd, and somewhat supernatural and creepy sight, but that ever so smug smile still adorned his features. As the human's voice echoed through the shop, carrying his words all through the building, the male grinned just a bit more, until the corners of his mouth hurt, at which point he let his expression soften quite a bit.

Silver-blue eyes looked up at the male and he cocked a brow at him, face reading a more or less obvious expression akin to ' Really? You think yelling like that is going to get you anywhere? '. The male brushed his bangs back in a semi-elegant manner, even though they'd been perfectly placed a moment ago. It was all for the visual effect. Sable took a few slow steps towards the other, carrying himself in an almost threatening way, but his movement were soft and almost like he was being guided by wind, the movements amazingly fluid. The male cocked his head to the side a bit and let his eyes narrow at the human, as if peering at him and really taking in every detail of the creature.

While his newly hardened expression could do quite a bit to creep some out, Sable wasn't quite sure whether it'd work on the other. His fangs were revealed as he smiled at the other, and they elongated ever so slightly as Sable let himself tune into the flow of the other's blood pumping through his veins. Sable's eyes were like liquid fire in the light that poured in from behind the other, turning from silver-blue to an imaginary golden-pinkish orange. He waved one hand in front of himself ever so slightly, turning a bit to the side, as if waving off the other's question. Luthien watched the other, brow still raised. " Why, I do believe I live here. Now, my question is, what are you doing here? " Yes, Sable did speak as if he didn't know. It was better to pretend in the first few moments, and perhaps cause confusion, in his opinion.

Brian's thoughts turned to robbery, believing that the man standing before him was a thief. He'll rob me dry! You have nothing to steal... I have my home! My... The male couldn't actually think of something, anything that a thief could steal unless they were targeting the ancient and decrepit furniture and things in the basement. What could be down there to steal...? He wondered, his mind nearly wandering even as the other male stood in front of him. The male stopped his thoughts where they began to wander and brought his mind back to the matter at hand: the stranger in his shop.

Swallowing loudly, adrenaline burning in his veins, Brian stood tall and bravely before the other man. His heart beat in overtime; he was kind afraid that he wouldn't be able to do anything if he were attacked. Outwardly though, Brian showed little change though. He appeared to be angry but still, he was calm. His emerald eyes burned as if tiny torches burned behind them. He straightened his spine to appear taller, though at six foot two he had little reason to do so. With his fists clenched and his teeth the same Brian believed himself ready for any sort of reply. Or so he thought. He had thought that the intruder wouldn't reply, would have sprung forward and attacked. He'd thought that if the other male had replied at all it would be to try and convince Brian that he wasn't stealing, that he hadn't broken in, or something similar or along those lines. Brian hadn't been ready for the male to say what he had.

"You don't live here. You can't live here. This building has been for sale for years now. Longer than I can remember. Now, I own it. You definetely do NOT live here." Brian stopped talking. He knew he was rambling. "I'm here because I own the building. I live here." He took a step closer and dropped his things beside the door. It'd be easier for him to fight, if the need arose, if he weren't hampered by his belongings.

The whole time, Brian never once took his eyes from the stranger. He saw the look that the other male was giving him but chose to ignore it. The look was condescending, as if the other male thought himself above Brian. The look was cocky and confident as if he weren't afraid of Brian at all. Normally, things like that would set him off, would make him go ballistic. Being looked down on was nothing that he took kindly too. Why would he? He was haughty and confident in himself, he was a big person and he showed that through looking at others as less than himself. Some might have said that he himself was overly confident but there was no way that Brian would ever listen to them. For the moment, he chose to believe that the other man was only being condescending because he didn't know Brian. Didn't know who he was or what he was capable of. He was quite confident that when the other male knew he would realize that he had no right to look down on Brian and that he should be sorry.

The voracious male stepped farther into the room and shut the door behind him. It doused the room in darkness and he was no longer silhouetted against the sun. He could barely see the other male in the room, but as far as he knew he was at no disadvantage for he thought the other male couldn't see either. He believed that he was doing nothing but cutting off the exit and means of escape. "Who are you? You're crazy if you actually think you live here." His voice was pitched lower and wasn't as loud as it had been before.

As Brian spoke, Sable listened. Very intently, as well. There was nothing the other said that he didn't mull over intently, each line of the other's words caused him to blink. He knew where the other stopped, where grammar would cut his words off, into sentences. The male was intently listening, as if what the other had to say was the word of some sort of God. Which, to Sable, it might as well have been.

Yes, Sable gathered that all the other person had to say was random accusations that he could only assume were true. As far as the other knew, Sable was a thief. A killer. Someone who'd broken into his shop somehow, this new building that he'd been working on. ' You don't live here. ' Yes, yes he did very well live here, and he had lived here for quite a while now. But would the other believe that, no matter what he said? Sable gave his mind a moment to think of this, to think of what he could say that might prove he lived here. The only thing that came to mind that he could say, was that he did. That was it. He had no proof, save for perhaps papers tucked away somewhere that said he owned it . . once upon a time. It would be quite out of date by now, obviously, and would do him no good. The male's quick and sharp ' You can't live here. ' was, more or less, true. But he did, and would. Unless the other burned the building down, or some such thing. Even if Brian didn't except him in the end, he'd still be able to easily sneak into the shop and into the basement before daybreak each day.

Unless there was some state of the art security system inside the building. Being a vampire, however, meant it wouldn't take much to deactivate it - or even find out what sort of code or key had to be used to do that. Sable smirked at this thought. While he didn't react to what the other had to say at first. ' This building has been for sale for years now. Longer than I can remember. ' Longer than he could remember? How funny. Sable remembered it perfectly. It had been December 1st, 1909. Today, was November 28th. Which was very close, borderline an almost exact 100 years. It always seemed to be nearly exact, the times in which the male woke and slept.

Winter would be coming. Christmas. Sable couldn't exactly feel it, not just yet, but he bet there was a chill in the air outside. A whisper of winter about to come, a winter that would hopefully be harsh and brutal, test the ability of the male who currently owned this building. He'd have to survive through nights of a freezing building, if he didn't keep the building warm, the pipes would freeze and burst. The various holes in the walls, the ceilings ( if he hadn't already gotten them cleaned up and fixed ), and even the floor of the basement here and there. Those had definitely not been fixed. If they had been, there were a few stray ones at least, considering all the furniture left down there.

Brian's voice re - floated into his mind, the whirling thoughts in his brain tuning down to a more human level. " Now, I own it. " Sable grinned slightly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, ever a bit more. His eyes had gone from fully open, and perhaps with a challenging fire, to a more doubtful and amused slant, an ' Of course you do ' look marring his drawn features. The male took a few steps closer, able to accurately see where the male was. He stepped until he was just out of reaching distance, though leaned forward into it. He spoke the words his expression stated, knowing the other couldn't see him. " Yes, yes. Of course you do."

Sable knew, the moment the other finished talking, what a weak point of his had to be. What a point in his system, his nerves, his ability to react and act in the world. It had to be. Had. to. be. The weakness of being assumed he was weaker, or worse, than everyone else in the world. The weakness of being told he's worthless and good for nothing. The weakness of, of course, caring what other people thought. It was amusing, for Sable had had such weakness a very, very long time ago. With his own father, with those he'd encountered as a young male in the old ages, running into those who looked down on him. There was so, so much else.

Sable knew he'd enjoy the days to come.

Which was why his 'Of course you do' was stock full of a condescending tone. Which was why, even in the darkness, one could gather from the twitch and tone of his voice that he was looking down on the ' boy '. Which was why, of course, Sable wanted the other to lash out and hit him. Wanted the other to get mad, and angry. Even more than he already was. Even more than he'd ever been before, even. Sable assumed he'd either do that, get pissed, or back off.

" You definetely do NOT live here. " As the other finished, as he stated the last words he could think of, Sable grinned. " One does not have to own a building to live inside it. This is my home, love. " Sable spoke in a tone that was similar to that which one would use to signal the other was an ignorant child. As if he was stupid. Sable grinned in the semi-darkness, inhaling air that did nothing for his lungs, mind, or body. It did send an even colder chill than death through his body, however.

Brian watched and listened in disbelief. This man wasn't afraid of him. The man wasn't afraid, or awed, or intimidated at all! How could that be when Brian was such a figure? At least in his mind he was. In his mind he was the strongest man who'd walked these cold and heartless streets. In his mind he wasn't merely a man. He was the epitomy of humanity; he was free, independent, strong, and awesome.

How dare this insolent man look down at me like that?! The young male thought angrily as he noticed the "Of course you do" expression on the others face.Then, as if to make it worse and rub salt into the open wounded pride,the man had said it. His thoughts instantly turned to options. There were many things he could do. He could stand up, be the man he thought he was, and fight the stranger, leap forward and use the muscles he possessed to pummel the stranger to a pulp. He could turn, be the actual bigger man, and not fall prey to the others goading; in this case he could turn and leave the building. Call the cops. Anything but continue to stand in the presence of the stranger. He could also be the man his father wanted him to be. He could smile and make the man at home, invite him to stay, ask him if there was anything he could do for him. The young male was jostled from his thoughts at the nearing of the other male. He backed up half a step before he realized what he was doing. Stop running you coward. Stand up and face him. And in that moment his mind was made up. He would show he was the bigger man and be kind. The other would never expect it. He would be, in essence, the man his father wanted. Though he'd never say this. In his mind, his thoughts were all his own. His parents had nothing to do with any of it. "Don't crowd me. Stay back you...." The words appeared from Brians mouth without his own concious thought. I've gone soft...I've lost it and gone soft. He mentally shook his head at himself. "Stay there at least until I've got the lights on..."

The male was in the process of fumbling behind himself when the stranger spoke once again. "One doesn't have to own a building to live inside it. This is my home home, love." These words brought pause to Brian. What's up with this nutcase? The way he talks you'd think he fancies himself some sort of gentleman! The young male again gave himself a mental headshake. Stick to the plan. Your best plan of action is to do what he least expects. And who does he think he is saying this is his home? It might help me believe him if the building hasn't been deserted so long. Or if he actually had something to prove that he did live here. At that point, Brian would have accepted anything. A sleeping bag. A cot in the corner. A tousled blanket. Anything that would prove that the other had been sleeping there. If he had even the slightest proof he could turn him into the police. He wouldn't take such measures if there was no proof though.

Finally, the young man continued his search for the lightswitch. It was the only appliance in the house: electricity. His bumbling fingers trailed uselessly behind him as he attempted to turn the lights on without turning around. Finding this feat to be nearly impossible, he glanced over his shoulder. There it was. He flipped the switch instantly and whirled around to face the mysterious man. What his eyes beheld shocked him.

Well I'll be damned. Not only does he talk like one, he looks like one to. Brian thought as he took in the motheaten suit. The attire of the man came as a shock to the young male. He'd expected something less... antique... and something more along the lines of baggy jeans and a hoodie. His eyes widened fractionally in surprise but other than this he showed no other outward signs that this was anything different to him than seeing another person normally. Inside his mind mulled over the possibilities. Ok. Maybe I was right. Maybe he really IS crazy... This seemed the most likely possibility but didn't seem to quite fit. There was just something about the stranger that seemed... aged. As if he weren't actually as young as his skin made him appear. As if he were more closely timed along the same lines of his clothing. Or as if he were actually more ancient than his clothing. Stop it! Now you're going nuts. He looked down at himself. Feet clad in scuffed and stained work boots which disappeared in his jeans, holey blue jeans with one knee completely gone, these jeans were grease stained and nearly threadbare, black long underwear underneath to protect him from the cold. His torso was covered by a black wifebeater and further insulated by a tee-shirt and thick hoodie. He was wearing nearly all of his clothing on his person in that moment. Even though the other's clothes were old, dusty, and motheaten they were still in better condition than his own.

"You are sadly mistaken stranger. I bought this decrepit old shell of a building with my own money. It's my home now. You... I think that you might just be an... unexpected part of the deal." He said in a monotone; the voice wasn't kind but it also showed none of the smoldering anger inside him. The younger man was trying his hardest to ignore the tone of the older male. He was triying to not let the other rile him up; that wouldn't be good for helping him keep to his plan. "If that is the case, if you I'm right and you're actually telling me the truth, then we've better things to do than stand here facing off like cowboys in a deul. I am Brian Kingsman." Brian mentally congradulated himself. He was proud. He had been able to keep his cool without blowing his entire plan. Or the plan he thought he had.

{ Sorry, I didn't realize the length of this post until after I'd sent it. . Dx }

' Don't crowd me. Stay back you.... ' Sable had waited and listened intently, patiently, for what the other was going to say next. He'd expected something rude, or cruel, even followed with a very sharp push. What came next surprised him, though he didn't let the surprise form an expression. Instead, the male let dissatisfaction settle in his mind. Sable had definitely wanted the other to get mean, and abrasive, rude. He wanted to goad and coax the other, until this human showed him exactly what he was a made of. So the other's flippant and boring ' Stay there at least until I've got the lights on ', was like letting a wolf go on a moose hunt, only to end up catching nothing more than a mouse.

When the lights flared on, Sable was more or less blind. He blinked a few times, eyes trying desperately to adjust to the sudden light in the shop. Sable could have, if it had been completely dark outside, been blinded for a few hours by the sudden flare of light. Being a vampire, any light could hurt his eyes, as they were quite sensitive, and when suddenly turned on or brought in front of him, the pain flared and he always had the instinctual reaction to run. Sable let the very long fingers of his right hand rub at his eyes slightly, a human motion that had not been forgotten from when he'd been 'alive'. Sable had just managed to keep himself from flinching and hurling himself into a darker corner of the shop, very intent on keeping himself grounded and coming off as some sort of egotistical squatter, at least.

As the vampire stopped rubbing his eyes, as it did no good, the male lifted his head slightly and watched as the other looked over his clothes. Sable glanced down, frowning. He'd known he had to change at some point, out of these very Victorian era-ish Royal Court clothing. The male hadn't changed his attire much the length of time he'd been alive back then. He enjoyed the clothing, and the cloth it was made out of only increased in softness and durability over time, so why not? While Sable hadn't cared about what the other was dressed as, he took the moment to look over the male as well. This time, fully.

Sable, undoubtedly, found charm in the way the other was dressed. The various points of his clothing that weren't clean or absolutely perfect, were proof that he was doing what he wanted and needed to do. That he was working hard, for whatever reason. That he wasn't some lazy self acclaimed Prince, ordering and ' purchasing ' the labor of others. Sable nodded slightly, shifting his current standing position so that his head was raised ever so slightly, one arm against his side, hand at his chest, fingers curled ever so slightly. His other arm was slightly bent, but hung at his side. While Sable might have looked a bit anorexic, after not feeding, that happened - the other looked stronger than him, if not perhaps two inches or so shorter. The vampire had never been one to enjoy having a muscular figure, but he'd have to try and go about shaping his somewhat scrawny body.

In spite of what many thought, vampires could work on their body shape. They could be fat, slim, average, petite, starved, and what have you. It all depended on how much 'rest' they got, and how much blood they consumed, and whether they worked out or what have you.

As the human started speaking again, Sable took a mental note of the other's vocal patterns, somewhat caught off guard by not only what he was saying, but the way he was saying it. Where had the anger gone? Where had the somewhat spazic twitch of his voice gone? Somewhere, but Sable didn't have much of a current interest in finding it again. The male shook his head slightly, eyes closing for a brief moment as he thought and the other spoke. " You are sadly mistaken stranger. I bought this decrepit old shell of a building with my own money. It's my home now. You... I think that you might just be an... unexpected part of the deal." Sable was not shaking his head in disagreement with what the other had to say. No, in fact, he was shaking off his previous thoughts, and the various plans and ideas that swooped through his mind and snagged his curiosity. Sudden inspiration, need, even desire.

The male smirked at the last words the other spoke, of that particular stretch of words. An unexpected part of the deal? Why, that made it sound like the other had bought him, as if he were a piece of the furniture in the basement. Which was interesting, and a somewhat amusing thought. Sable wouldn't say he hadn't been ' bought ' before, as when he'd first lived in this world, he'd had to survive one way or another, and it had been a very simple way of making money. Though, manual labor had come not long after being some sort of butler-pet for some obese woman of relatively higher standing than even his own father had been. That hadn't been the first and last time, though while he wouldn't admit outwardly to having been any such thing at any such point to anyone he didn't have an mutual relationship with, either. Many years of that, on and off. The male mentally snorted at the memories, eyes flashing up to the other, watching him intently.

" If that is the case, if you I'm right and you're actually telling me the truth, then we've better things to do than stand here facing off like cowboys in a deul. I am Brian Kingsman."

These words did more than just stun Sable. They amused him, and the mixture of the emotions flickered over his face. While Sable might have been intent on only keeping the expressions he so desired upon his face, such as an obnoxious 'Better than thou', he would please himself by smiling ever so slightly. His fangs did not show at this point, his eyes took on a more kinder tint, and were no longer hard or searching, but rather, like pools of liquid silver, though he let his chin drop slightly, head following suit. The male's silver-black hair fell over his shoulders as he bent forward into a half-bow to the other, the slim ponytail falling over his shoulder.

It looked in need of a wash, but was still somewhat shiny, like it was in fact strands of silver that bent and swayed, or some such thing. The male's eyes closed briefly and he smoothed the front of his jacket/shirt as he stood, one arm stretching out before him, fingers together, in the customary and what one could only assume was familiar offer of a handshake. Sable's hand looked quite clean, at least. It wasn't like the male had been rolling around in a dirt filled coffin, after all. " Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Brian Kingsman. If you so choose, you may call be Sable Orsten. "

The male kept his hand outstretched as he glanced around the shop, gaze traveling over it. He did not let an unappreciative look cross his face, nor one of distaste. Either the other had renovated the inside already, and it looked like this, or the other was about to start working on it. Sable wasn't sure exactly what the building had been before this last change, or if it had changed at all as of late. A dreamless sleep meant not being able to wake up between them, meant not being able to tell between fantasy and reality. The layout had very much changed, however. He supposed he had the blueprints for the original building somewhere, though he had to think about where. Not that that was important at all, of course.

Sable's gaze was curious, and his expression set with said curiosity, and thoughtfulness. Turning his eyes back to the male, watching him with a blank expression for a moment, as if his thoughts had pulled him from reality, Sable tilted his head to the side slightly, asking with a suddenly bemused expression. " If you wouldn't mind, perhaps you would tell me what you plan to do with this building? " As it was Sable's home, and while the male might have been confused by what the other was aiming for and trying to get at with his previous words, he felt he had at least a slight right to ask that much - even if there were many other things he had to do, and could/should have asked.

Brian watched with interest as the other reacted harshly to the light. That was odd. It was almost as if he'd been in the dark for ages. He didn't dwell on this much though, even as it seemed that the other was about to cry. It wouldn't be long before the other males eyes adjusted. He'd be fine. At least, the male hoped the other would be alright. He really hoped the other wasn't photophobic or something. That'd be just my luck wouldn't it? He kind of looks like one... He noted, noticing the others pale skin.

He was fighting an inner battle. Ask about it and risk wounding the others pride? Let it be and risk hurting the other? Neither was a very good option. He settled for risking wounding the others pride. "Something wrong? I can use the lamps if you don't like the bright light..." He'd hate to do it, it would wound his pride, but he would. Anything to keep his plan in motion. At least that's what he kept telling himself. Really, he wasn't the bad guy he set himself up to be. He

Now, it seemed that Sable was inspecting him as well. He fought the urge to fidget nervously, as something about the others gaze felt strange. It seemed as if the male was amused by his clothing. Bemused maybe? Brian couldn't figure it out. At least, the other didn't seem to be quite as condescending now. His gaze was curious but not like he was looking down on him. That at least was some bit of comfort. No, not comfort. Relief. Much more of that and Brians plan wouldn't have gone anywhere. It'd have come to a dead stop very quickly when he'd snapped and punched the others lights out.

At least, and Brian took comfort in this, he was much smaller built than himself. Hmph. He may be taller but he's no match for me if it comes to a fight. He might have me beat in speed but it wouldn't matter. I'd have him beat in sheer muscle if nothing else. Taking a closer look though, Sable seemed almost to be too skinny. He looked as if it'd been a while since he'd had a good meal. A jolt of pity pinged in his gut but he ignored it. No use in pitying the man. He's obviously got brains enough to have gotten himself in here without a single clue as to how. If he were hungry he'd be smart enough to find himself something to eat. He didn't look to have much muscle mass either, but Brian had learned the hard way that sometimes looks could be deceiving.

At Brians other words, about facing off like cowboys, there was no doubt that Sable was surprised. The surprised look was more one of amusement though. Great. He thinks I'm funny. Though.. looking back, that was a strange thing to say... Without pause, he grinned and clasped the other males hand in his. Where his was warm, rough, and callused, a workers hand, the males hand was cool. It was smooth, almost soft. The young males grip was firm, but not overly so. He believed very strongly in being able to tell a lot about a person by their hands and especially by their handshake. Maybe I was wrong. No homeless squatter would have hands like that. "Nice tuh meetcha' Sable." Now that he was more comfortable, less hostile that is, Brian's speech was much less formal. It had a country accent. Not quite a twang, but close. He had grown up with his father who at one time had been a farm hand.

Thoughts of his father nearly ruined Brian. Thinking of the old man he wanted to kick Sable out and sulk for a while. Family related thoughts always put him in a bad mood. However, he didn't. He shook the offered hand then released it a few moments later. He noticed the other male looking around the room and was curious. The curiousity somehow managed to mask the building anger. This in its own right proved that Brian found Sable quite intriguing. "See anything ya' like? It's not much. Well, at least not yet. I'm gonna' make it into my own pub one day..." It sounded strange, the pub idea, but it was his dream and he'd do nearly anything to acheive it. With his one statement he'd killed two birds with one stone. He'd answered the others question while at the same time he'd asked a question to sate his curiousity.