one day this will fade {open}

[Costin Dracula]

Costin had indeed thought that was what people wore to the gym, but the best idea he had been able to come up with of what people did at the gym was 'punching walls' so that should probably have been an indication that he didn't know what he was talking about.

"When I'm a vampire," he explained, "I'll have superhuman strength anyway." He tossed the nearly-consumed cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his heel, ever-conscious of fire hazards, and crossed his arms over his chest again, still leaning against the wall. "I'm waiting on quite a few things for that, you know. The attachments, the ambitions, all of that."

Costin had never thought of himself as lonely, really. Loneliness was something people experienced when they wanted other people around, and Costin maintained his solitude by choice. There wasn't any point in trying anything else. "I don't think that's intimacy," he said frankly. "One night of rolling around with someone in bed, that's not intimacy. Intimacy is...when you share your whole being with someone, when they know you through and through, when you let another person become part of who you are."

It didn't really occur to Costin that basing all his ideas of romance and intimacy on the parents he was currently resenting whole-heartedly might be a bad strategy. Even if his fathers wouldn't give him what he wanted, Costin knew that what they had was real and deep and eternal. "I am going to spend eternity without a soul," he added, "if I am going to give myself to someone, it will be someone I can trust to know me better than I know myself, and love me anyway."

[Mordred Le Fey]

"Why are you so certain your parents will change you?" Mordred asked curiously. "I mean... why do you want to be changed? To be stuck here forever, watching everyone you know age and die... I don't know, does it really sound that great?" Mordred shrugged. Wanting power he could understand, wanting love he could understand, wanting knowledge... but eternal life? Mordred wasn't sure he could imagine much worse.

He thought about Costin's next words carefully. He was right - what Mordred did, what he got from his one night stands and trysts wasn't intimacy. It was... contact. Human contact, that was all. And Costin's explanation of intimacy, that was something Mordred could imagine wanting. That was something that, deep down, Mordred did want. It was something he'd never experienced, something he was scared of. That was why he pushed people away, why he kicked them out before breakfast in the morning, why he couldn't let himself get close to the person he truly wanted that intimacy with. "I'm not sure I could imagine ever being that close to someone, sharing that much." He said quietly, looking down at his shoes. "That's how people get hurt. That's how lives get destroyed." How could Mordred let anyone get that close to him, knowing the darkness that existed within him.

"Without a soul." Mordred repeated quietly. He looked at Costin wonderingly. "How can you love and trust without a soul? Don't you need one to have the other?"

[Costin Dracula]

There it was, the question Costin tried never to ask himself. He went to great lengths to tell himself that this postponement of his destiny was only that, a delay, and not something that would continue until he was too old to need or want it anymore. He almost wanted to slap Mordred for asking it aloud, but that wasn't very friendly, and Mordred wasn't trying to be awful about this, he'd just stumbled into it. "It is everything," he said simply. "I've never wanted to become anything else. What am I going to do? Have a job in a shop somewhere?"

He shook his head, suddenly feeling as if he needed something to do with his hands, despite them being tucked deep into his pockets. "I don't know if I'll ever find someone to share it with," he admitted. "But that's not the reason for it. You don't become a vampire for the companionship. Unless, I suppose, you're in love with someone who already is one." Costin imagined that once he was turned, it would still be a long time before he was prepared to take that step himself. He had spent too long guarding himself, trained himself too thoroughly to avoid attachment of any sort, it would take a long time to break that habit.

"What is it, exactly, that you think a soul does?" He couldn't help asking. The way Mordred talked about it, it seemed like he thought the whole concept of love came from the mysterious essence of a soul, and Costin found that a little perplexing. As far as he was concerned, a soul was just some sort of immortal essence of your person that lived on after your body died, and he was perfectly willing to exchange that for a body that wouldn't die.

[Mordred Le Fey]

“You could do anything you wanted.” He said quietly. “What’s stopping you? Nothing is set in stone, there’s no one saying this is the path you have to follow. Just because it’s whats expected, it’s what everyone believes of you, it’s what some dowdy old man in a library wrote about you, who’s to say that’s what you have to do? Why should you do what everyone is waiting for, why stick to what is expected? Why not surprise them all?” He was definitely still talking about Costin, he definitely wasn’t talking about his own life, or the things he’d read about himself, or what everyone was waiting for him to do. Nope, this was definitely all about Costin.

“So you’re back to that loneliness and isolation again, watching everyone you know grow old and die around you.” Mordred slid down the wall, feeling oddly heavy and tired, and sat on the floor resting his back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him. This night certainly hadn’t gone the way he’d expected when he’d led Costin’s out of the library earlier, and he wished he’d brought the bottle of scotch with him out of the bar, instead of leaving it with Todd. He considered texting Todd, asking him to bring it out to them.

He thought about Costin’s question for a minute. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure. The Christians talked about the soul as being the everlasting part of you, the part that was soiled by the bad deeds you committed, and redeemed through confession and penetance and good deeds. He wasn’t sure he believed that, it just seemed so... black and white. So conveniently defined to give the church and the priests the power. And then there wasn’t the question of soulmates. His parents were supposedly soul mates, but how much pain had that caused them over the years? So could the soul really be connected to love, if it could cause so much hurt?

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, with a shrug. “People talk about love and soul mates, like love and the soul go together as one. But from what I’ve seen, all that does is cause hurt and pain.”

[Costin Dracula]

"I don't want to do anything else," Costin said, shaking his head. "I don't want to be anything else, nothing else I've ever seen or known can compare with the life I know is possible. When you have walked as closely to eternal life as I have, anything else seems so...inadequate and impossibly unsatisfactory." He was fairly certain Mordred wasn't talking about him anymore...as far as he knew, no one had ever written a book about the life of Costin Dracula. Certainly not in this universe, anyway.

"That's why I don't care about anyone," he said. He felt like he might ought to sit down too, it felt weird to be talking to someone whose eye level was that far below his own, but he was not going to soil his slacks with whatever dirt and grime might be on the ground here outside the bar. "I don't get attached, I try not to let anyone get attached to me. It's not good strategy for the life to come."

Costin wasn't sure what he believed about souls, honestly, having been raised by two people who didn't have them. At any rate, he didn't think he needed his. "I don't know if I believe in soulmates," he said, shrugging. "If there is such a thing as soulmates, I cannot imagine that it is a connection any greater than the one my fathers share, and they have not needed souls to form that." Costin had his disagreements with his fathers, specifically the one, but there was no denying that whatever kept them together was stronger stuff than anything Costin had observed in the mortal world.

But what did he know about love, really, other than that? Costin had no experience with it personally; he'd never been with anyone, and even the parental love he had received had been tinted with the darkness of vampirism. He had no basis for comparison, no other firsthand experience with anything else.

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred liked Costin. He was odd and deep and Mordred did not understand his point of view at all, but all of that made him completely intriguing, and meant that Mordred wanted to get to know him better, get drunk and high with him and have the sort of conversations he could never have with Tristian or Aiden. He felt that this was the start of a beautiful friendship. The thought crossed his mind that he should set Costin up with Aiden. He filed that idea away to work on later.

He pushed himself up from the ground, brushing off the dirt from his trousers. "You have an odd point of view, Costin, but I like it. But if this conversation is going to continue down this deep and intense path, I need more scotch." He looked around, reluctant to take Costin back into the bar he'd lost his mind in a few minutes ago, and his eyes rested on the casino. A grin spread across his face as he turned back to Costin.

"And gambling. Ready for another human experience?"

[Costin Dracula]

It was a good thing Mordred didn't mention his intention to set Costin up with Aiden, because if he had, Costin probably would have walked away immediately, deep conversation or no. He would have frowned upon any mention of setting him up with anyone, considering how he'd just told Mordred how disinterested he was in forming human relationships, but it being Aiden...that would have taken it to another level of insult entirely.

Costin was not ready for another human experience; he was still unsettled from the one he'd just survived, and his face hurt. But at the moment, he was actually finding it very calming to be able to discuss these things with someone who seemed to get where he was coming from. Even if Mordred didn't see eye to eye with him on the vampire thing, he wasn't reacting with scorn or mocking him or demonstrating any of the other reactions Costin was used to getting from people.

"Gambling," he repeated. "Why gambling? Vampires can gamble. I will definitely still be able to gamble when I'm immortal."

[Mordred Le Fey]

"This is true," Mordred agreed, sticking his hands in his pockets and nodding, "but it can't hurt to get good at it now, can it?" He grinned at Costin, starting to make his way over to the Casino. He turned to face Costin, walking backwards. "Come on... I'm an exceptional gambler, I'll help you make your millions."

He grinned winningly at Costin, taking a hand out of his pocket and motioning with a finger to Costin. "Come on... you know you want to."

Mordred spent far too much time in the casino, and had already lost a substantial amount of money this semester. Luckily, his mother didn't care enough to ask too many questions when he sent home for more money, so he didn't worry about losing any more. And who knew, perhaps tonight was going to be his night. He'd been working on a cards-up-the-sleeve cheat - it wasn't ready yet, he had this annoying habit of moving too quickly and sending the cards flying out of his sleeve.

[Costin Dracula]

Costin wasn't concerned about the money. His parents were never tight-fisted; he always assumed that if having money kept him from bothering them about the vampire thing, they were happy to provide it. Maybe gambling was one of the more irresponsible ways he could go and blow his family funds, but he was still pretty sure they wouldn't care. And well...if Mordred could actually teach him to be good at it, maybe he could start building up a nice little nest egg for immortality.

"Alright," he conceded, following along. "I'll allow it. But if I'm not good at it, I won't want to stay." Costin did not have a spirit of great perseverance, and was not incredibly patient. One might think that growing up with parents whose idea of solving a problem was to wait it out for a decade would have given him a little more of that, but it had instead had the opposite effect. Costin hated waiting, and that included situations where he had to wait until he'd practiced enough to be good at something.

"What games do you play? Card games, or those mindless slot things?" It better be card games, he thought, because he was not spending the rest of his night behind a slot machine. He might as well give up on immortality now and buy some golf shoes.

[Mordred Le Fey]

Grinning as Costin agreed and followed him, Mordred waited for him to catch up and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Excellent. Don't worry, I have a feeling that you're going to be a natural." He kept his arm around Costin's shoulders and led him inside, immediately bypassing all the slot machines and heading for the blackjack tables.

He scoffed at Costin's question, signalling a waitress an ordering them both a scotch. "Please. Slots are not for sophisticated, intelligent gentlemen such as ourselves." He headed for a free table and took a seat, finally releasing Costin and taking a seat, grinning at the dealer.

"Good evening - word of warning, my friend here is a blackjack virgin, so go easy on him." The waitress appeared with their drinks and Mordred took both from the tray and handed one to Costin, before dropping a few notes on the girl's tray. He winked at Costin as he took a sip of his drink. "You ready to play cards?" He asked with a smirk, as the dealer began to deal.

[Costin Dracula]

Costin shrank slightly under the weight of Mordred's arm around his shoulders, but tolerated it as he was led across the room, past the obnoxiously loud slot machines with their bright lights and noises. Sophisticated gentlemen. Right. Costin thought back on the events of the evening so far, and wondered if that label really applied to them at this point. Screaming about sacrifice in the library. Picking fights with random bar patrons. Having a meltdown over said fight for no apparent reason. Not really sophisticated behavior. But Mordred was right that the blackjack table seemed to be a bit more sophisticated than the tacky slot machines.

He slid into the seat next to Mordred, leaving his coat on and adjusting it slightly, as it had been tugged a bit out of place by Mordred's manhandling. He gave Mordred a withering glance at the blackjack virgin statement. As if he needed any more help demonstrating his inexperience.

"I've never played," he told both Mordred and the dealer, "but I do know how this works, and I'm fairly certain he can't go easy on me even if he wanted to. It's all in the way the deck is shuffled, no?"

[Mordred Le Fey]

"It's a figure of speech, my friend." Mordred responded, handing over some cash to the dealer and receiving some chips in return. He handed a stack to Costin. "Here, first game's on me." He grinned and winked at Costin, leaning back comfortably in his seat, resting his arm on the back and taking another drink with his other hand. The backed stool swiveled, and Mordred turned in the seat, swaying as he drank.

He counted out a couple of chips and tossed them in the dealer's direction to place his bet. Squinting slightly, he gazed at the dealer's deck while he waited for Costin to place his bet.

It wasn't often that Mordred used his Sight, it was one of the powers he had that he had never been particularly fond of. It was unpredictable and took a lot of work and study to fully control, and he hated to study. His other abilities often allowed him instant gratification, and that had made him somewhat lazy. The Sight needed more focus, and generally allowed him to see things that were so far in the future they didn't affect him yet, or things that were immediate but insignificant, like a waitress dropping a glass beside him. Sure, those times it made him look like he had superhero reflexes when he caught the glass, and had persuaded more than one clumsy waitress into his bed, but he found it silly and boring.

Tonight, however, he felt like it might come in rather useful, and as he gazed at the deck, seemingly lost in thought, a small smirk played on his lips. He turned to Costin. "Place your bet, my friend. I'm feeling lucky."

[Costin Dracula]

Costin might have objected to the cheating if he and Mordred had been playing against each other, but seeing as it was blackjack, he probably wouldn't have cared even if he'd known. Which he didn't, all he could see was that Mordred was squinting a little oddly, and that could just have been because of the dim lighting. They really didn't like to make these places too bright, did they?

He took the chips Mordred offered, and laid two of them down in front of his spot, then leaned back a little, waiting for his hand. "Are you feeling lucky, or are you feeling lucky on my behalf?" he couldn't help asking. Somehow he thought Mordred might be the sort of person to announce that he was feeling lucky just before leaping out of a third-story window into shrubbery, or when he didn't know exactly what sort of pills he was taking but was going to take them anyway.

He looked down at his cards, glanced sideways at Mordred, then tapped his finger on the tabletop. He was starting to feel a little bit more like himself, now that the bar and the memory of what had happened there was fading into the much more comfortable dark corners of his mind. He picked up the scotch Mordred had ordered, and took a slow sip, then folded his hands on the table in front of him and waited.

[Mordred Le Fey]

He grinned widely at Costin, and graced him with an infamous Mordred wink. "I'm feeling lucky enough for both of us, Cos, don't you worry about that." They were dealt their cards - oddly enough the exact cards Mordred was expecting to be dealt, and he made a show of considering them, taking a drink and really milking the whole thing.

He cracked his neck and turned to Costin. "Hmmm, hit me." He nodded at the dealer. The dealer raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and turned to Costin. Mordred glanced at Costin's cards. "You should definitely hit." He nodded knowledgeably.

The dealer dealt again - as Mordred knew, both he and Costin his 21, and the dealer pushed the winning chips back towards Mordred and Costin. "Told you I was feeling lucky." Mordred grinned, immediately throwing some chips back at the dealer. "Let's go again."

[Costin Dracula]

Costin shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the way Mordred winked at him. He was about ninety percent sure Mordred hadn't taken him out tonight with the intention of seducing him, but one could never really be sure about these things. People did strange things when they were drunk or on drugs, much stranger things than seducing other young men they met in a library. He looked down at his cards, his glance shifting slowly to Mordred. Did Mordred know something he didn't? Or was he trying to bluff? Costin wondered if he should tell Mordred that you couldn't really bluff at blackjack, what with the dealer playing by set rules and all, but he wasn't going to embarrass him by saying something like that right in front of everyone.

Anyway, he had already decided to take another card, and Mordred's confidence only helped boost his confidence. He nodded approvingly as the dealer revealed his hand.

"Good call," he told Mordred quietly, trying not to be loud and obnoxious at the table. He put in another few chips, stacking them neatly and waiting for another hand. "Do you play this often, or is this a special outing just for my edification?"