❛ I remember the last time we met… ❜ / @ohmolloy remembers the FIRST one. up to you if this is @ 1 or 2.......
@ohmolloy
He knows this man.
From his dreams, yes. But not only.
This old man used to be a boy, a rambling idiot of a journalist who let a white-haired stranger take him to dinner and share drinks with him while they talked about city living and the night life there. The Corinthian had laughed when the boy begged to interview him and said no, he was flattered, but his story wasn’t right for Daniel’s… medium. Then after a while he had hummed and said maybe. We’ll see.
The current Corinthian doesn’t remember the rest. But obviously the boy survived; the beautiful, grey creature he’s become now is fascinating. Confident in himself, cocky to the point of arrogance, he paints a very different picture to the one in the Corinthian’s fragmented memories. Vampirism alone can change a man, sure. But this isn’t just that: his story has changed. Who he is has changed. The Corinthian can see the threads of it, the strands of narrative woven around him, twisted and pulsing with recent change.
It licks its teeth and offers Daniel its best smile. It has hunted him in the Dreaming before, and that was technically their last meeting, but who remembers their nightmares if they can help it? It’s almost funny, each of them remembering what the other can’t.
“My predecessor planned to kill you, yes. I have no such intentions… and you’re already dead.” Not that he’s never eaten carrion before. Daniel’s eyes are beautiful: sharp, vibrant, and brimming with experiences this Corinthian will never have.
He envies him. It’s a hunger, that envy, and it shows in his demeanor: he’s too close to Daniel, crowding him in. Old habits die hard or not at all.
“You’re not afraid of me anymore, are you? You used to be. I think.”
