one day this will fade {open}

[Costin Dracula]

If only Mordred knew the agony Costin had been experiencing at the hands of said vampire parents for the past five or six years, maybe he wouldn't be so jealous. But Costin didn't bring that out in the open often, so really, the idea had about the impact one would expect.

He found that he wasn't quite as resistant to Mordred's arm around his shoulders as he should have been. Maybe it was the drugs, but he was feeling remarkably tolerant tonight. He wasn't sure how he felt about getting a black eye, but...well, it would make for a good story, anyway, and maybe at least one of his fathers would be concerned about his behavior. Maybe. Stranger things had happened, though not many.

"A black eye, eh?" he said, walking alongside the other boy. "Is that...call me naive, I suppose, but I'm not sure if that's one of the glorious things my fathers had in mind when they were telling me why I had to come here." In fact, the only thing Costin could remember Dracula telling him before he'd left for this school the first time was, "try not to make me regret giving you my name," but he wasn't about to tell Mordred that.

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred raised an eyebrow at Costin's doubt. "Well, surely that depends on when your father's were turned? I mean, if they're like, super old, the human experience for them would have been totally different, right?" Mordred smiled at his own logic.

"Anyway, if you're any good in a fight, you won't end up with a black eye. I've escaped many a brawl with nary a scratch, my man. We'll just have to see what you're made of."

Apart from anything else, Mordred really wanted another drink.

[Costin Dracula]

"You know, that's actually quite a good point," Costin admitted. "They're very, very old. Centuries, at least. As miserable as being human is now, I'm sure it was much worse then. At least I'm not worried about dying of the plague, or being murdered by a rebellion of the peasants or anything like that."

Costin had never been in a fight, he wasn't lying about that, and he wasn't sure how he'd do in one. Dracula had taught him some things, when he was younger and they'd visited a few rougher planets. But he'd never had to use any of it, and he had always gotten the sense that Dracula himself wouldn't be all that brilliant in a fight either if it weren't for his preternatural abilities. When you were inhumanly fast and strong, you didn't really have to worry about technique.

"I will do my best," he promised, "but that's about all I can guarantee. Do try not to get us killed before I can convince-...before my parents are convinced that I've lived a full life and all that."

[Mordred Le Fey]

It had been a while since Mordred had been in a good fight, and he was feeling pumped. Of course, that could have been the various toxic substances he'd been pumping into his body all evening, but there was an adrenaline rush, a thrill that came with getting into a fight that he hadn't yet found a good substitute for. Sure, it probably wasn't the best way to get a thrill, and he would probably, one day, end up getting himself into more trouble than he could handle. But so far he hadn't come across any situation he hadn't been able to either handle or run away laughing from, and so he didn't care about the dangers, or the risk. Mordred needed to bow to the whim of his self-destructive streak, and so far there was nothing that could stop him.

"Don't worry, no one's going to die tonight." Mordred reassured Costin. "We'll pick our opponent very carefully." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and considered it for a moment. "Maybe we should film it - then you can show it to your parents, convince them you've done what's needed." He grinned.

[Costin Dracula]

Costin was afraid of a lot more things than he would readily admit to, but none so much as growing old and dying. Or dying before he had a chance to become immortal. Those were really the top two on the list. But a part of him did wonder, if he got hurt, seriously injured or something, if it might perhaps shake at least one of his fathers out of their silly insistence that he wasn't ready for their way of life. Maybe one of them would realize how much he meant to them and would realize what they had to do in order to keep him safe.

As if that had ever worked in the past.

"I think my fathers would be entirely too delighted to receive a video of me having my face beaten in," he said, making a face. "But...you know, perhaps we could record it, just for...history, that sort of thing. And so I can show someone else, maybe. I have a fr-...acquaintance who likes fighting." Bar fighting wasn't as elegant as sword fighting or any of the other arts of war, but still, it wasn't a bad idea. That was what Costin's high-strung brain was telling him at the moment, anyway, and it seemed to make sense.

[Mordred Le Fey]

"I'm going to make a documentary; 'The future vampire's full human experience'. Mordred grinned as he turned his phone to camera mode and held it up. "Erm, we'll call that a working title."

As they walked, he aimed the camera at Costin and turned it to video. "Alright, my friend, introduce yourself for the camera. Who are you, and where are we going and why." He grinned at Costin. "Action!"

[Costin Dracula]

A documentary? Well, Costin thought, that could be interesting. He wasn't sure anyone had ever gotten someone's life on record, from the time before they were a vampire and afterward. Would he still be talking to Mordred once he was a vampire? Maybe he would...Mordred would definitely think he was cool then, wouldn't he?

He almost froze when Mordred turned the camera on him, but recovered after a second or two, waving at the camera with one hand.

"Hello," he said, a little unsure. "I'm Costin Dracula, Viscount of the planet Wallachia, and this is...we're going to a bar, so I can experience a bar fight, which is, according to my friend Mordred here, a vital part of the human experience."

[Mordred Le Fey]

Stifling some drunken giggles and squinting at the camera as he tried to see through his slightly blurred vision, Mordred gave Costin a thumbs up from behind his phone. This was, without a doubt, the best idea he had ever had. He was pretty sure, in that moment, that he was going to win awards for this documentary and become a renowned filmmaker, make his fortune and live happily ever after surrounded by piles of cash.

Returning from his daydream and focussing his attention back on his new project, sorry, friend, Mordred cleared his throat.

“So tell us, Costin, why is getting the full human experience so important to you?”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin had a momentary flash of dread, wherein this "documentary" ended up not as an important historical record, but as one of those videos that went around on the internet for the sole purpose of making people laugh. If there was one thing Costin did not want to be, it was a laughing stock; there was nothing funny about his predicament at all, and he hesitated just slightly. But then Mordred was talking again, and Costin once again found himself wanting to go along with it.

Why didn't he have that? Why wasn't he charismatic like his father and this random person who happened to go to his school? A twinge of jealousy tugged at his heart, and he tried to shake it off, focusing instead on the way he could swear he could see every single little pebble in the pavement beneath his feet.

"I want to get the human experience," he said, looking into the camera, "because when I'm no longer human, I'll still be able to relate to humans, and hunt them more effectively."

[Mordred Le Fey]

He clicked the stop recording button, and lowered the phone, nodding his approval at Costin's first soundbite. "Fantastic. Hunt them more effectively, that is some good stuff."

He turned to Costin with an interested look. "Have you ever hunted a human then?" He asked quietly. "Did your dads take you on hunts with them?" He couldn't keep the excitement and jealousy out of his voice. "I bet it would be fascinating to see a vampire hunt..."

They had reached the town, and Mordred indicated the bar, one of the dodgier places in town. "Welcome to your first bar fight." He said grandly, arms outstretched and a huge grin on his face. "Are you excited? I'm feeling pumped..." He took another pill, before offering the bottle to Costin.

"And drinks are all on me. As many as you need." He grinned.

[Costin Dracula]

"No," Costin shook his head enthusiastically. "I haven't been on a hunt with them, there was always...I would slow them down, you know. I don't blame them for that. Having a human child with you on a hunt? What a disastrous idea. Especially if you don't want to feed on the child."

He looked up at the bar, suddenly feeling like he might be dressed a little inappropriately for this setting. "No, thank you," he said, to the pills Mordred offered. After the initial shock of overstimulation started to settle in, Costin had the lurking suspicion that the drugs were hindering his mental capacities rather than aiding them. He stopped when Mordred stopped, and took a deep breath.

"I've never..." He bit his lip, hesitating. "Let's go, let's do this, there's a first time for everything, right? Let's go get those drinks."

He took a confident step forward and pulled open the door, gesturing for Mordred to go through first. "Bad influences first," he said, although he was already peering inside the darkened interior of the building.

[Mordred Le Fey]

"Shame." Mordred commented with a shrug. Kids always got in the way of fun stuff.

Pocketing the pills, he grinned at Costin and turned to open the door to the bar. He walked through, holding his arms out and grinning widely. "Ladies and gentlemen, the fun has arrived!" He declared loudly, turning to wink at Costin before heading straight to the bar.

"Todd, my good man - two glasses of your finest and most expensive scotch." He pulled out a credit card and handed it to the barman. "You know what, just two glasses and leave the bottle." He turned to lean back against the bar and survey the room. "Well Costin, my friend, pick your target."

[Costin Dracula]

Mordred was drawing so much attention to them, and for a moment, Costin was mortified. Then Mordred was sidling up to the bar and laying down a credit card, and it suddenly felt more like they were...actually cool, a feeling utterly alien to Costin himself. Costin was used to standing out, but it was never really a positive thing. It wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to keep people from bothering him.

Mordred strutted around like he was trying to reel the attention in and bask in it. Costin didn't even think his father did that; for all his charisma, Dracula targeted his attentions precisely, and it made sense that he would. He had specific reasons for wanting the attention of specific people - so he could feed on them. Mordred's body language seemed to say I want it all.

He watched as the bartender stepped away to get the scotch Mordred had ordered, then turned to face the room, looking at the occupants, trying to decide which of them deserved to be punched in the face. They all pretty much looked to be minding their own business, and he glanced back over at Mordred uncertainly.

"Which one do you think?" he asked. "Not a woman." Things just didn't end well when you fought women; either you won and you looked like a horrible person for attacking them, or they won and people laughed at you, as if women weren't supposed to be able to hold their own in fights.

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred couldn't help but laugh at Costin's condition. "No, Costin my friend, not a woman. It wouldn't look good - and the women are for after the fighting." He winked at his friend as Todd appeared with the scotch and showed the label to Mordred. Mordred nodded his approval, and Todd poured two glasses before recapping the bottle and placing it on the counter for Mordred. Handing over a wad of bills with a wink, Todd smiled and pocketed them before moving on to another customer.

Mordred picked up the two glasses and handed one to Costin, before clinking his own glass with Costin's and raising it in a toast. "To the start of a fantastic human experience." He toasted with a wink, before surveying the bar again.

He noticed a solitary figure over in a corner, hunched over a table and a drink looking like he could barely see the glass in front of him. Pointing with his glass, Mordred smirked. "That one." He said to Costin, raising an eyebrow. "He's not too big, he's already half cut - a few insults and a couple of punches and you tick bar fight off your list without too much personal damage."

[Costin Dracula]

"To a fantastic experience," Costin tapped his glass against Mordred's, then lifted it to his lips, sipping slowly as he followed Mordred's gaze across the room. "It feels cheap, though, doesn't it? Fighting someone who doesn't have full grasp of all their senses and whatnot. Or does that not matter in these situations, no honor in bar fighting?" Come to think of it, it didn't sound like a very honorable undertaking to begin with, but he was beyond being put off by that on this particular night.

He took another sip of his scotch, then set the glass down on the bar and shrugged off his coat, handing it to Mordred and sighing softly. "Wish me luck, then."

Ducking between a few patrons on his way, Costin crossed the room and approached the man his new friend had indicated. Now, Costin did not know much about fighting drunkards. But he knew more than a thing or two about antagonizing people; he had been doing that for quite a long time.

"Excuse me," he said, "I can't help but notice, you look exactly like a cockroach I once killed with a rock. Sorry, I should specify. You look like what was left after I killed it."