Post by Heinrich Drake on Dec 25, 2008 1:24:19 GMT -5
Scratching his head, a handsome blonde man, appearing to be 19, stood with a bewildered look on the street of Goldleaf Lake. Obviously lost, and oblivious to the cars going around him, drivers snarling, this man just stared.
In his hand he held a deed to a house, a Lakehouse on Goldmoon Lake, Hush Hills, to be precise. The description of the house was clear, the address was clear....but he couldn't find it. Two houses seemed to match the description. A mansion-like house, farther from the lake then the others, and a smaller yet grander looking house, three doors down, closer to the lake, yet still farther then the others.
This was clearly a confusing prospect for the blonde man.
He was about six and a half feet tall, perhaps shorter. Skinny and lithe, he looked the prefered build of a cross country sprinter. But alas, that was not his fate, as the extravegant signet ring on his left ring finger showed. No, that ring beared the crest of the Count Carstien, a wealthy noble of German nativity. And, if that was anthing to go by, this man was the reingning Count Carstien.
He wore a shirt of wealthy make. In fact, all of his clothing was rich-looking, at least to the trained eye. The black shade as indentical throughout the entire ensemble. The man was sweating, and constantly wiping his brow with a worn looking scarf.
Why, exactly, this man was wearing a scarf in the middle of summer, let alone next to a lake, was anybody's guess. The true reason was also the most shocking.
For this man, handsome, and younglooking as he was, hid a secret. One that, if exposed, would likely mean his death. And no, not the fact he was a vampire, a bloodsucking lord of the night rumored to be disciples of the Devil himself. And no, not the fact that his name was Heinrich Draco von Carstien, a name signifying the dragon which according to many cultures was a herald of death, no, it was his past. His past, which will not be further explained at this curren time.
Heinrich was lost, and that was thr true problem here. Plus, the dilema he was in was tough. Either he could go to one of the houses and knock, and hope it was his, or wait for a passerby to ask for the vacant house.
Not one to expose himself to possible ridicule, Heinrich vyed to go with the latter option.
So, setteling himself on the grass, leaning against a telephone pole, Heinrich "Drake" Draco von Carstien drew his sweatshirt's hood, zipped it up to his chest, and waited.
Oblivious to the fact that he wasn't in Germany, where it was normal to see a black clothed man in a wealthy neighboorhood, rather then the US, where a black clothed man was viewed as suspicious.
His mistake.
In his hand he held a deed to a house, a Lakehouse on Goldmoon Lake, Hush Hills, to be precise. The description of the house was clear, the address was clear....but he couldn't find it. Two houses seemed to match the description. A mansion-like house, farther from the lake then the others, and a smaller yet grander looking house, three doors down, closer to the lake, yet still farther then the others.
This was clearly a confusing prospect for the blonde man.
He was about six and a half feet tall, perhaps shorter. Skinny and lithe, he looked the prefered build of a cross country sprinter. But alas, that was not his fate, as the extravegant signet ring on his left ring finger showed. No, that ring beared the crest of the Count Carstien, a wealthy noble of German nativity. And, if that was anthing to go by, this man was the reingning Count Carstien.
He wore a shirt of wealthy make. In fact, all of his clothing was rich-looking, at least to the trained eye. The black shade as indentical throughout the entire ensemble. The man was sweating, and constantly wiping his brow with a worn looking scarf.
Why, exactly, this man was wearing a scarf in the middle of summer, let alone next to a lake, was anybody's guess. The true reason was also the most shocking.
For this man, handsome, and younglooking as he was, hid a secret. One that, if exposed, would likely mean his death. And no, not the fact he was a vampire, a bloodsucking lord of the night rumored to be disciples of the Devil himself. And no, not the fact that his name was Heinrich Draco von Carstien, a name signifying the dragon which according to many cultures was a herald of death, no, it was his past. His past, which will not be further explained at this curren time.
Heinrich was lost, and that was thr true problem here. Plus, the dilema he was in was tough. Either he could go to one of the houses and knock, and hope it was his, or wait for a passerby to ask for the vacant house.
Not one to expose himself to possible ridicule, Heinrich vyed to go with the latter option.
So, setteling himself on the grass, leaning against a telephone pole, Heinrich "Drake" Draco von Carstien drew his sweatshirt's hood, zipped it up to his chest, and waited.
Oblivious to the fact that he wasn't in Germany, where it was normal to see a black clothed man in a wealthy neighboorhood, rather then the US, where a black clothed man was viewed as suspicious.
His mistake.
