Who. Nicholas Turner and Aline Moreau What. Aline wants a sire, Nick wants a meal. Probably not going to end well Where. London, England When. Backdated to Saturday night, February 25th 2012 Warnings. TBD?
Nick had been stuck in London for an entire week, and it was starting to get the better of him. It wasn't that he disliked London, he just had no love for being cooped up anywhere against his will. The city of London was huge, but by the end of the first week it had begun to feel about as big as a very small walk-in closet as far as Nick was concerned. He had things to occupy himself with, sure, there was always somebody out by themselves where they shouldn't be, begging to be bit. But the fact that Nick couldn't even go out during the day only made his captivity even worse for him now, so every night he fed a little bit more, just to ease the tension. Nick was little more than a caged animal, and hated feeling like one, it did nothing for his already too sensitive impulses. If the MTN's didn't get fixed soon, he was going to end up bleeding London dry for its troubles.
Tonight, as soon as the sun had gone down, Nick was out on the prowl. He'd fed on a homeless man in the park earlier that night, but it had done nothing to truly satisfy his thirst. Not that anything ever really could, but when it came to his meals, Nick still had a preference. A homeless man was merely settling, he was still on the lookout for something a bit more... exotic.
Which is how he and Spike ended up at a night club, on the corner of the wrong side of town and a few blocks away from any major streets or anyone that would care about what they saw. The place itself was charming in all its dirty, dingy atmospheric surroundings. Reminded them a little bit of The Bronze, which always made the vampire feel a tad bit nostalgic. He moved through the crowd, eyes dulled and looking for that 'special someone' as the sea of bodies and heart beats all around him did their best to overwhelm his senses.