( @hellfollowed )
Astarion preferred something a little more upscale than the Nightingale nightclub in LA, but with suspicion growing, one could not risk the disappearances of too many rich blooded individuals. Their power and influence made the authorities a little too curious for Cazador's liking. So, the spawn's assistance were needed elsewhere this evening. Exclusive, but not impossible to enter. Especially for Astarion, who was a member of even the most snobbish of establishments. He was well known all around, even beyond the boarders of one country, for his services; some flocked, some hid. Either way, it was hardly work for a man whose aura was like the moth's flame.
Astarion peered out over the crowd from a private sofa, an unsampled drink in his hand. He did not sit alone, as he was accompanied by a few 'brothers and sisters', both mortals and vampire alike. But he did not seem interested in their conversations. After centuries of people watching, he'd come to realize just how boring and mundane that humans actually were. Particularly the contemporary ones. Everything that was once unique about humanity had been bred out through technology and consumption. He may have been the creature from a fairytale, but the modern human was truly alien.
