Who: Vlad and Storm What: Dinner and a rematch Where: P3 When: Tonight, 7-ish. Warnings: None for now.
Something as seemingly trivial as a game of cards with an old acquaintance was a welcome distraction, particularly considering recent events. The anonymous post, Helena, and Vaughn - he always prided himself on his ability to keep a clear, sharp mind; but now it had been thrown into turmoil and he found himself barely able to think. Clearly he wasn't entirely lacking in emotion, but what he felt for Helena was new and more powerful than he ever could have anticipated. He didn't like that sensation of losing control to whatever this was, but at the same time he welcomed it. Happiness, how could he refuse that? It was a good feeling, something he'd learned not to miss until now. It wasn't the thrill of satisfaction, or achieving a goal or even triumphing over a rival; but even so he wouldn't trade it for all of them combined.
Years had passed since he had seen Storm, who had been nothing more than a teenager when they had last met. He wondered just how much 'older and wiser' he had truly become, and even though he had plenty of money to spare, losing was not an option. Not to someone younger than him, for starters.
Money could buy a lot of things, and dinner was one of them. He realized he wasn't in Bucharest anymore and hardly needed a butler or any other sort of hired help here. It was an outdated practice that his father had refused to give up, and it had annoyed Vlad to no end; there was no chance that he would be continuing said practice here. Hiring someone to prepare dinner was acceptable, but he could and would serve as his own host.
Seven o'clock neared, and he waited. He never was the sort of man to leave things to the last minute, and therefore had been prepared far in advance.