You either have it, or you've had it (Costin)

[Tristian]

Tristian sat in the red velvet seat looking at the stage, the notepad and pen resting in his lap over his crossed legs. He was sitting in the front row just staring at the bare stage in front of him, as if he was waiting for something to happen. It was well past school hours and he knew that he wouldn’t be disturbed, if for the fact that he knew the drama club didn’t meet on these evenings, but that he had even checked that no other group could possibly be using the space either. So he had plenty of time, and plenty of space, a plenty of no distractions what so ever. Just so long as he could stop distracting himself. He wanted to knuckle down and figure the act out but there were just too many other things on his mind for him to actually focus.

Arkady and the possibly outcomes of that surprise meeting. Luc, yet another watchful eye from Camelot to shadow his every step and report back to any parent that would listen. Although the boy did seem quite laid back so maybe he could possibly be an ally. The same way he could possible and should possibly keep the social ladder climbing Akrady by his side. He needed his sister. He needed Jenny. She always knew what to do about these sorts of things, but she was…elsewhere. He didn’t really want to contemplate where or what or who she was doing, all he wanted to think about was how much he needed her. Between them they ruled the gossip of this school, if there was a scandalous story on the school grapevine there was a good chance the two of them found it first and knew a lot more about the incident than what was circulating. He knew almost everything about anyone that mattered, and those that didn’t matter weren’t worth finding out about…until they got interesting.

Jenny had compared them to the three girls in that movie she had ‘forced’ him to watch. She proclaimed that she was the arrogant Blonde he seemed to rule the three of them, so he guessed that made him the brown haired gossip because there was no way he was the dumb blonde. He really wanted to watch that again…

And now he was thinking of ‘Mean Girls’ instead of doing work. Great. Picking up the notepad and pen he stood up and walked round to the stairs that led up to the stage. Throwing the pad and pen down onto it he walked centre stage and stood facing the back. He then took out a switcher from his pocket, holding it out to the left aiming for the sound system he pressed the play button and…

…nothing happened.

“Oh for the love Gucci,” he said hitting the switcher with his other hands, “just work”

[Costin Dracula]

Dark places. Costin pretended to like them. Pretended that he could see in the dark, could smell other people in the dark from a half mile away, could fly through the dark in a terrifying rush of fangs and sensuality.

But when it came to actually being in the dark, he stayed in relatively safe places. The theatre was safe, it was a controlled environment where he could lurk about backstage and mingle amongst curtains and creepy things that hung from props. Of course, just because it wasn't a dark, dangerous alley didn't mean it was without its hazards - as Costin discovered when he tripped over some kind of electrical cord strung across the floor.

"Rahat," he muttered, because neither of his fathers were around to reprimand him on his language. Irritated, he worked his way out onto the stage, where lights were filtering around the edges of the curtains into the dark space he had been walking around in.

Oh, there was another boy out there on the stage, fabulous. Except not. Costin was beginning to wonder if there was really anywhere in this entire school one could go to be left alone in piece, not be accosted, or lectured on littering habits, or bothered in general. It seemed, though, that this boy was already bothered about something, something Costin might or might not have had anything to do with.

"Problem?" he asked, slinking out from behind the curtains. "I didn't realize anyone else was here." It wasn't an apology, it was just a statement of fact...almost like he wouldn't have cared if he had known. (Except he would have, he wouldn't have even come here if he'd known somebody else was lurking around doing...whatever the boy was doing.

[Tristian]

To say that the noise from the wings startled him was somewhat of an understatement as he had almost jumped up into the air at the sound of the crash and the voice that followed. The theatre was supposed to be empty so where had this person appeared from? Had he been there the whole time? Watching? Listening? How very strange, but then so many of the plebs in this place were strange. He thought it must be because they’re poor, they have nothing better to do with their time that acquire strange attributes and mannerisms. If they were rich, surely they would have had the money to do something about such things.

What bothered him most was the lack of manners of some people, now that didn’t cost much and yet people seemed to just disregard it as something tedious and not worth their time. And here was an example of that right in front of him. Well, Tristian would certainly show him a thing or two. Smiling his most charming of smiles he said, “There’s no problem. I was merely under the same allusion as yourself…that there was no one else here.”

He walked towards the other boy and held his hand out, the other stuffed into his pocket, “I’m Tristian Pendragon.”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin was not rude. He was cruel at times, and he was not very nice, but for the most part, his cruelty and not-niceness was delivered in a very polished way, which one might expect from someone who considered himself nobility. He wouldn't just come right out and say 'hey, you, I don't care if you were here first, I want to be along so get out' - he would just say something like "I didn't realize anyone else was here" and let the person interpret that as they would.

This fellow seemed to be making an attempt to be polite - or at least, he was calling Costin's bluff and maintaining the same false politeness. Costin considered his options briefly. He could drop the act, or he could try to be civil...or he could leave, and let this fellow have the theatre to himself. The options weren't very appealing...this was why Costin tried to avoid other people, because his options always seemed unappealing.

"Costin," he said. "I suppose you could address me as Viscount Dracula if you'd like to be really silly about titles," (Costin didn't think it was silly at all), "but most refer to me as Costin. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Oh, and he meant every word of that, too. "Pendragon. Fascinating name. What nationality is that?"

[Tristian]

“It’s English,” he said still smiling politely, “and if we are being silly about titles then you could call me His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Camelot Tristian Pendragon…but mostly I go by Tristian. A pleasure to make your acquaintance too.”
 
Now there were the manners he was looking for, and being a Viscount he expected nothing less from someone who should have breeding. However that was becoming very obvious the longer he spent looking at the other boy. The way he dressed, the way he looked, yes there was definitely some breeding there, or at least parents that were in the know enough to pass on a little etiquette, or had the money to afford it. The boy had style; that gave him a couple points in his favour.
 
“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” said Tristian holding his hands behind his back, “what brings you to a supposedly empty theatre in the middle of the night? I hope I haven’t interrupted anything?”

[Costin Dracula]

Well played, Costin thought. Very well played. He returned the polite smile, but on Costin's face, it was a strange expression, a flat, lifeless thing that didn't come anywhere near reaching his eyes. Crown Prince, was it? Of some place Costin had never heard of in his life, so that didn't impress him very much. What did impress him was the execution - Tristian hadn't missed a beat, he'd taken Costin's superiority and returned it...almost gracefully.

"I like the middle of the night," Costin said coolly. "And I like empty theatres. I was only walking, you haven't interrupted anything." Why did he say that? Certainly not because he wanted to be nice...probably because if he had accused Tristian of interrupting anything, he would have been admitting that Tristian's presence was capable of inconveniencing him.

"I believe I may have unplugged your music," he informed the other boy. "At least, I unplugged something and I can only imagine it was whatever you're trying and failing to turn on. What are you going to do, a tap dance?"

[Tristian]

He liked the night? Tristian would have probably sneered at the pretentious nature of the statement had the boys smile not been so unsettling. There was something so very…odd about it, that made him believe what the other boy was saying. What’s more, it only made Tristian more curious to find out more about him, he did so love to know absolutely everything about absolutely anyone who was interesting or important. He found that it was very rare he came across someone who was important and interesting, most important people where amazingly shallow with but one layer underneath that was just as easy to read as the outer. But this one…

Of course he spent too long thinking about it and now the other boy had rounded on him and the spotlight was back on him. As much as he did love being the centre of attention he wasn’t really wanting to be forward with the details of his activity. You couldn’t trust anyone in this place and he would like to leave his reputation the way it was; iron clad.

Smirking he said, “something like that, a little more sophisticated in my opinion but yes, a dance none the less.”

Tristian began walking across the stage over to the cd player, however kept his eyes on the other young man, “So…Dracula…and a Viscount…well I can put two and two together and yet I was completely unaware that vampires could have children…should I be sharpening my stake, or am I safe?”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin scowled, his entire countenance darkening visibly. Tristian had found the precise button to push that would elicit the most unpleasant of reactions, and Costin could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him, threatening to spill out in an entirely ungraceful manner not at all becoming of a noble. He barely managed to hold it back, taking Tristian's question with only the scowl, which he corrected as quickly as he could.

"I am not a vampire," he said, shortly, and chose to leave it at that. He didn't need to explain to this boy why he wasn't a vampire and how bitter he really was about the whole thing. It did irk him, though, that even this complete stranger assumed that he ought to be one. Of course he ought to be a vampire. He was a Dracula, even if not by birth (since, as Tristian had so brilliantly pointed out, that wasn't really possible at this point).

"Neither would I say you are safe," he added a moment later, once he'd calmed himself a little more. "You are correct in your assumption that vampires cannot produce offspring in the ordinary fashion. However, I have been raised by them, and they can be quite dangerous. One is rarely safe when vampires are involved."

He watched closely as Tristian approached the CD player. Hopefully he wasn't going to put on some dreadful rap song with offensive lyrics and a beat one couldn't possibly hope to do anything but gyrate wildly to.

[Tristian]

Well now he had certainly tread on some toes there by the tone of the young man. He wasn’t sorry for it, it was interesting a beneficial to know where a persons weaknesses or annoyances were. Only so that he could push them further and/or to his advantage. So not a vampire but definitely related to the Dracula’s. His father had done enough monologue about the ‘good ol’ days’ for him to know that Dracula wasn’t just a work of fiction, that he was a not so living supernatural creature that was very, very real. And now the young man was attempting a threat, well that was just delightful and only caused him to smile a little more.

“I’m sure,” he said and almost managed to take the patronising tone out of his voice, “with vampires for teachers I am sure you are quite formidable, although I assure you, I pose no threat so you can stand down. I did not mean to offend.”

It wasn’t strictly true, about him posing no threat. Oh he was sure the young boy could fight, was probably quite good at it too, but he seemed the rash kind that was quick to judge an opponent, which could be to his disadvantage. Tristian didn’t look like much, they way he dressed lent itself to accentuate his thinness and hide the muscles that were there, just not as defined as some. But it wasn’t all about muscle and strength, he had the knowledge, he knew how fight, with or without a weapon, he had even seen and joined a couple of battles. He didn’t proclaim to be the best, but he was almost certain he could handle a little hot tempered boy.

Turning his back on him, he set about setting up the sound system, plugging it back in and pressing play. “However I do see now why you favour dark places, I imagine this place is very different from home for you,” said Tristian turning back to face him as the music played, “how are you finding it?”

((The music he’s playing is Hard Hearted Hannah the Ella Fitzgerald version www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdb--NSa_kA&feature=fvwrel ))

[Costin Dracula]

Costin had a reply ready, the words were on his lips, and as soon as the music came on, every bit of it fled his mind. The words abandoned him, and he froze, swallowing hard. He had never heard the song before, but it reminded him of one he had, of a specific memory that lingered with him. There was a house...he was fifteen or so, and they were staying in a house, on some planet that had suffered some kind of disaster. There were abandoned houses everywhere, and this one was ornately decorated, elaborate wallpaper coating the walls, chandeliers draped with droplets of light-catching crystal, lamps with brightly coloured shades, carpeting that silenced even Costin's steps as he walked through it.

He could hear them talking before he found them in the parlor, could hear the whisper of quiet endearments he couldn't quite make out. He pushed the door open, and stood in the opening, waiting for them to acknowledge him.

Dracula had Tulio against the wall, locked in an embrace that happened far too frequently for Costin to be made uncomfortable by it any longer. It wasn't the embrace that bothered him, it was the look in Dracula's eyes...there was passion there, there was adoration, there was emotion, none of which he had ever given to Costin in any form. There was a record player playing in the corner of the room, some scratchy, aged song from a decade that had long passed on Earth. The song ended, and the record kept turning, the needle hissing dully across the surface as Dracula turned to face Costin.

"Make me like you," Costin said, before he could lose his nerve. "Please."

Dracula stared at him, then looked back to Tulio, tilting his head towards Costin as if to say "this is your problem," then left the room. So Costin turned to Tulio, though he said nothing more - all he wanted had been spoken anyway. Tulio shook his head.

"We'll discuss this when you're older," he said. "Much older."

"But I am older," Costin protested. "Papá. I am older. I'm old enough."

Tulio shook his head again, and took a step towards Costin, reaching out to straighten a wayward lock of Costin's hair.

"Not yet," he said, gently enough, but Costin shied away from the touch, ducking his head. He hardened his gaze, bitter rejection rising in his throat and threatening to choke him.

"I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you both."

Costin hadn't realized that he had clenched his fists. He hadn't realized that emotion had crept into his eyes, and he had forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room. When he remembered Tristian, he clenched his jaw, willing himself to regain his composure, and flexed his fingers.

"I have no desire to be here at all," he said quietly. "And I meant no offense either. It is an unfortunate mood you seem to have found me in." Costin seemed to have forgotten that he was in a terrible mood like this most, if not all of the time.

[Tristian]

The reason Tristian was so well connected to the goings on around the school was because he paid attention. He didn’t just listen to what people were saying, it was the way they said it, it was the way they held themselves, the gestures they made that’s what gave them away. Right now, he was taking a lot of interest in the young man in front of him, he was beginning to get the idea that as hot tempered as the young boy was…there was something more bubbling underneath. Now that was interesting.

He took a couple of steps towards the other boy, hands behind his back as he looked at the boys face. Yes, there was definitely something going on there. “Well, we are all susceptible to bad moods, at times…we just cant help it. Should you wish to discuss it…you are more than welcome, although I realise we‘ve just met…I have discretion.”

Smiling in what he hoped was a somewhat kindly way, well as kind as he got, he said, “And this isn’t such a bad place, once you get used to it. Eventually…you may find it provides some wonderful opportunities.”

[Costin Dracula]

Unlike Tristian, Costin didn't care at all about what other people were doing or saying. He didn't bother paying attention to them, and he definitely didn't make any extra effort to figure out what they were thinking or feeling. And here this boy was, offering to listen to his problems.

"No," he said, distaste evident in his voice. "I have no desire to discuss my personal problems, my mood, or anything else about myself with anyone, thank you." He wasn't even sure why he'd put the 'thank you' on the end, it was clear he didn't mean it.

The way Tristian was smiling at him was making him horribly uncomfortable, like he was being analysed or scrutinised or something else equally undesirable, and Costin had the urge to get out of the room as quickly as he could.

"I cannot think of any opportunity this school would offer that would hold the slightest interest for me," he said, trying to think of an excuse to leave.

[Tristian]

Tristian laughed; oh this one was definitely amusing. So arrogant, so full of his own self importance; he have expected him to storm off in a huff, not before sticking his tongue out and folding his arms of course. In a way, he reminded him of his younger sister, although a little more amusing and a lot less annoying. The way she would storm off and huff was just like this, although it was usually after arguments that left him just as anger and made him want to storm off. So it was definitely better watching this boy huff all on his own.

“It has lots of opportunities,” he said moving even closer, “this place allows for anyone to do anything they want. It doesn’t provide protection from judgement, but at least it lets you try. And the best thing of all is…in my opinion…that I do not have figures of authority breathing down my neck every second of the day.”

He waved his hand in a dismissing way and said, “oh sure there are the teachers but really, anyone can pull a fast one on them, and they cant follow you every where. No, this place is full of good things. You can do what you want, be who you want…you just have to look for it…so what do you want Viscount? Popularity? Love? Respect? A house in the country?…a new pair of shoes?”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin didn't like the way Tristian said "viscount" at all, like it wasn't legitimate or something. He didn't even know Costin was adopted, he didn't have the right to make assumptions like that.

And what was with those entirely ludicrous suggestions? Why would Costin want popularity or a new pair of shoes? Love was stupid, and made people do stupid things, respect...well, that was alright, but rather worthless coming from anyone around here. He didn't want a house, he wanted to travel the universe without fear of death or danger, wanted to be untouchable.

He was right about one thing, though - it was better to be here without what he wanted than to be at home without what he wanted. Being at home and getting his way would have been preferred, obviously, but if he had to stay this way, at least he wasn't constantly being reminded of the things he didn't have.

"I don't want anything," he said, sullenly. "That is to say, I want nothing this place can offer me. You wouldn't understand if I told you."

[Tristian]

Try me,” said Tristian still smiling quite happily.
 
He walked over to the side and sat down on the piano stool that sat in front of the rather large grand piano placed to the right of the stage, facing Costin. Crossing his legs and placing his hands over his knee he continued, “You can tell me what it is you don’t think I’ll understand and then afterwards, if I don’t you can say I told you so. And you’ve lost nothing because I won’t understand. Whereas if I do understand then maybe I could help you with it…”
 
Turning around on the chair so he had his back to the other boy he said, “I’ll even make it easier on you, you don’t need to look at my expression.”