Quicklog: Armand/Alexander Who: Armand & Alexander Murphy What: A meeting. Where: Gatsby When: Recent
It wasn't much like searching for Daniel.
To start with, it wouldn’t have required much from him to seek out a human, and even less was asked when Armand was hunting one of his own kind. The cheat was inherent in the way that he was armed with a specific sort of knowledge and a key to one of the hotel’s doors, with the awareness that this particular brat was lurking somewhere behind the door that strummed at the tautened strings of his heart and his lungs.
Long Island had since proven itself a sweet dessert and thoroughly suitable for Armand’s occasionally decadent tastes, with the great manses that loomed up out of the dark with their dual-pitched roofs and big windows like eyes. He couldn’t help but feel partial to the way that the wide-columned porches framed him as a hunter, and it wasn't long before he could taste the notion that he might like to make his home here.
“Alexander,” he breathed out the name more than he spoke it, reaching out to touch the solid elm of the front door with white fingers as he felt for the presence of the other’s mind.