OOC was between that title and the baddest mf-er in the city. LOL.
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IC
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Releasing his grip on the minds of those on the small ship from which he had sailed from Africa, Mercia Dracul strolled onto the dock. Back ramrod straight, and head high as he scented the salt air mixed with rancid city smells, his black cloak snapped in the wind as his hair shifted against his cheek. What anyone saw in this place was beyond him. Not to mention the danger of at least 2 hunters wishing to frequent the place among other things, he failed to understand what drew his parents and elder sister here. So he had come to find out.
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In part out of concern, in part out of a morbid curiosity and in part to compete a little if there happened to be anything here he wanted. He had just completed a few lucrative deals with some African shamans and voodoo priests. He relished and reveled in their dark power and most important of all they were his. Nothing to do with his father or his other siblings, but completely loyal to him. A thing he would not share and as such?he found himself already missing the place. The wilds of Africa felt so much more pure than dirty foggy London.
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As he moved from the harbor into town, his right hand strayed idly to caress the hilt of the sword hanging at his side. Mercia did not truly require a sword, but he enjoyed the gleam of blood on a steel blade and likewise the sport of toying with his prey. Killing with a sword, at times relinquishing at least some of his superior power for raw skill coupled with vampiric speed was perhaps his equivalent to a cat toying with a mouse or bird before striking. That and it kept him fit and entertained.
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For tonight he would take a room in one of the nicer and more private inns rather than seeking out the new family home. It would give him the opportunity to take stock in private. In that he would be more likely to discover the things, if any, the particular members of his family may be wishing to hide. Such facts were always far more intriguing than those they were willing to share. So a night in a good inn and perhaps a dance hall for some amusement and dinner...and more if the girl was pretty and captivating enough.
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I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed.
I get along with the voices inside of my head.
Kat