:Domovoi strode up to the marble statue, his latent psychosis wanting to blow the damn thing to peices, the refined half of his mind actually contemplating waiting for someone to sense his presence and welcome him in. He understood this was the coven with the best chance of teaching him accurate vampire history, and this was where he would start his quest for the path. He sat at the base of the statue and placed his duffel bag on the ground. To pass the time, he began stripping and reassembling a walther p99 9mm just to keep the movemnts in his head.
It was first the idea that something was out of place that brought Nebti out of her daydreaming of the self-indulgent silks she was happily going to drape herself in. She was still several yards away from the coven, moving a languid pace through the park as her senses stretched out and felt what waited ahead. She tipped her chin up a notch higher than needed and sniffed lightly at the air, taking in the story of the night, and the ancient smell of an immortal she did not know.
With a mildly disgruntled sigh, Nebti drew off the headphones she had been wearing, the faint strains of a Linkin Park song, Don’t Stay, floated lightly on the night air ahead of her. She let it play until she found herself standing behind the immortal she had scented. Her gold-amber eyes flickered briefly with a soft light as she drew in his scent once more, committing it to memory. He was older than her by thousands of years, she was certain of it. Yet, as she turned off the little Ipod in her hand she had the distinct feeling of a diminished being rather than an ancient at their full potential.
As she studied him silently she found herself familiar with the sandalwood-like scent that plastered itself in his blood. I screamed of Arabic sands, of Samaria and Egypt, and called to her own ancient roots. Uncertain of his exact bloodline, she choose the common language of the slaves that had bent to her whims so many years ago, those Hebrews.
“éîìåòä úåàéøáä ïåâøà” she asked softly, her voice fluid, deceptively unguarded as her tongue worked with remembering a language she had not spoken in so many thousands of years. “úàæ ïéàä äîë äæéà äî?”
CoC
Translations: “who are you?” and “what are you doing here?” ((I came close at best o.o not sure just how correct or incorrect the symbols are and such))
OOC: don't even know what language that is(looks like Greek)...makes sense that Domovoi no longer is my character. I didn't do sufficient research to make a character as old as Dom, though when I have a computer at home and money to buy books I'll end up re-creating him .
CoC: meh, the computer wouldn't accept the arabic, dunno why, it bugs me... but anyway, no books needed. Do online research, timelines and such, anceint history research :)
I lack the patience to do that accurately. Every time I have tried, i wind up with inaccurate data...
