Returning (Leon)

[deviantdreamer]

He had been out hunting, sating his lust for blood and soothing the hunger that had plagued his body. Merrick fed regularly, rather than going for days without as some did. What point was in waiting for something the body needed to keep from deteriorating? Little to none. And he may have liked pain, but that was simply not something he was interesting in doing. The vampire materialized within his apartment, lip curling as he cast his gaze around the room. Honestly, he despised this particular apartment. But his plans for his larger home had yet to be complete. As it were, he satisfied himself with what it had. For now.

The moon cast a soft glow across the room; during the day special windows kept the harmful UV rays out so that if he should choose to remain awake he could without harm. But at night, it was kept wide open. Everything was decorated in a simple manner. Dark masculine colors, and a wooden floor. And everything was spotless, clean. He despised allowing his living space to become otherwise. A long sigh left him, his hand sliding through the inky strands of his dark hair. They fell across his pale skin, while his artic gaze slid across the living room slowly. Quiet. But then that was expected, as there was as of now only one other that resided within his living quarters. His personal slave.

Leon would be around here somewhere. He stepped silently across the floor, and made for his favorite chair. At least for the time being. Perhaps his mood would soon shift, and it often did. He was full, delightfully so. The blood surged pleasantly within his body, warming his skin from its normal icy state.

[cason]

The days spent in the apartment was very boring for Leon, but he knew better than to complain when the only other person in his presence was his own master and that master was a vampire that opssessed strong powers. Powers that Leon did not have at all even as a dark angel; he had nothing. Despite his small annoyance with his slavery, he accepted it and had no plans in opening up and saying things to Master Wulf that would make the elder get angry. Master Wulf had a temper and was kind of cruel if you asked Leon, but with both of them being two races that kept themselves secluded, that was what Leon tried to do unless he was needed for his Master. Which was often because that was the curse of being a personal slave to someone.

Leon pushed blue hair out from in front of his matching blue eyes so that he could see what he was doing in front of him; cleaning. Master Wulf liked a nice and clean apartment and he wasn't going to fight against that chore because he disliked messes just like the next person that has a bad case of obsessive compulsive disorder. His wing was always getting caught on little decorations that were in the apartment, but he just kept it folded close to his back without causing himself any pain. He was working on his last chore; cleaning up and picking up the room where Master Wulf slept at. Pushing things up and away into the closet he jumped when he heard a door close shut from the front of the apartment and he straightened out his shirt before he headed to the living quarters in the front.

His hand fumbled over the collar he wore as he sat down in a chair and he tugged down his shirt. Blue irises glanced up at his Master, the new look that was over him was evidence enough that he was full from feeding and made things relatively safer for him to be around, "Good hunting I assume?" he spoke politely and formally.

[deviantdreamer]

Pale eyes slid, until they could focus on the blue haired slave. The spoken words clearly polite but bold none the less without the favoured title 'master' included upon his greeting statement. And he pointed it out with a slowly arched brow, high within his regal features in silent rebutal. But nothing more, his mood was at the very least that good. "Delightful hunt, Pet." He replied, the old and familar nickname derived from the fact that he often did treat Leon as if he were one."However, humans break entirely to easy..." An age old complaint, really. Weakness was a despisable thing, a crime not even worth an honerable death.

He took a moment then, to slide his gaze once more around the apartment. "You completed your chores." A simple statement, silent approval. It kept his mood as bright as it might have been, though even that was tainted with a certain chill that seemed to be tangible at all times. A hand was brushed through his dark hair, long pale digits stroking them back from his gaze. Graceful, elegant that hand. But it could so easily turn cruel and violent, punishing. Even on the best of days, or nights as it was.

But it was his nature, really. His mortal life had been filled with violence, as had his turning. Only natural, that he would carry it over into his immortal life. Even after the countless, endless centuries of surviving this world and forgetting entirely the emotions that had once made him human. As they lay locked away within the icy depths of his heart. Memories pushed back into the shadows of his black, ancient soul.