An Enthusiastic Stroll {Khyan}

[Dreyfus]

☬ Time Stamp ☬
Company: ??? | Thoughts: ??? | Mood: ???

---

☬ It was quite the contrast to the bright and golden light of the Luxium, as Dreyfus toured the Umbrium. He snuck his way to the undercity out of curiosity about what could lurk beneath. He heard rumors of a palace nested under the Luxium and the den of their most prized and revered dragons settled there as well. The vampyre found himself truly intrigued by this isolated city.

Dreyfus stood upon one of the buildings within a district he was hard-pressed to announce. He peered out into the distance as he looked over the underground city, finding this part of the Solunarium more fitting to his vampyric sensibilities. It was the first time he was in an underground city and he wanted to soak it all in. Leaping down, he push a bit off the ground as he landed, the kinetic blast blowing dust up around him.

Making his way out into the streets of the district he was stalking, Dante was enjoying some much-needed me time. He had been out walking the streets finding both the walk and the tranquility of being alone in the undercity streets to be calming to his stressed mind. Finding a place to rest, Dreyfus sat on a bench and pulled out a small flask that had some bourbon of his favorite vintage in it. Taking a swig he looked at the lights of the many buildings that adorned the street, admiring the darkness, a cold sobering ceiling of stone devoid of stars overhead of any kind. It was both ominous and beautiful only to be complimented by the lit lanterns that lined the roads. "I could get used to this kind of peace, if only for a moment." ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Khyan Nykara]

The Umbrium did not favour the young Vinicius Nykara Khyan as much as it did the foreign vampyre embarking upon its silver lit streets for the first time, but it was more familiar to him. Increasingly so.

With a thick, golden collar rounding his slender neck and a simple cream and blue tunic that served as his livery, the Servus was on his way back from the Underforum with a basket on his arm. Covered in cloth, the wicker vessel was heavy with bottles of strong Umbrian red wine. His master’s alcohol budget had needed to go up to help assuage the woes of his current property and former schoolmate. Fortunately for Khyan, Cetus was appeasing to a point that verged on pampering.

Ahead on the street, he saw long blonde hair that would seem to betoken one of the Dryadalis Aureum. At the best of times they’d been his social superiors and so he lowered his eyes as he drew closer, but something pinged about his Aura. Even passively, something broadcast alien elements that betrayed this was no elf at all.

Lifting his dark eyes to regard the man’s face, his mundane senses confirmed what his ætheric ones suggested. He hadn’t the delicate features of a golden elf of Re’ha. He wasn’t unprepossessing, but he wasn’t really pretty after the fashion of an elf. He looked like a human to Khyan’s eyes, but the Rune at his neck told a different story in assessing his Aura.

Once more he lowered his eyes as he passed the odd stranger, drawing his basket a bit closer to his torso and increasing his pace as he made his way through the Sanctine District toward his master’s domus.

[Dreyfus]

Company: Brutes, Slave | Thoughts: I should mind my business | Mood: Calm

---

☬ As he sat there he felt a disturbance within the flux of aether around him, his eyes shifting in the direction it was coming from. He saw a male walking his way, along the street, carrying a basket and what looked like wine bottles within it. he could see the young man, his olive tan skin and unique features, the way he adverted his eyes. Was it because he didn't want to be noticed, no it was somewhat a way of submitting. Focusing his eyes more intently on the male he saw the glint of gold around his neck that was illuminated by the silver light of the lanterns.

Was this mortal a slave? Slavery was legal here? The vampyre felt his own ire boil at the thought of forced servitude. It was something he hated with a burning passion, the thought of being forced to answer the whims of others without having a choice. Dreyfus couldn't help but pity the man as well, but there was really nothing that could be done about it. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift back into the lull of his peace. Some time had passed however when a few more disturbances seemed to crop up within the flux.

Looking he saw three men walking the same path. They were talking in a language that was unknown to the vampyre, but he could only assume to be vasti or whatever it was they called it. They seemed to be drunk, and from what he gathered they were tailing the slave he saw earlier. It was none of his concern but something in him stirred. He knew he couldn't allow them to mess with that man just cause he was a slave. And so the vampyre rose to his feet and began to follow.

They seemed to catch up to the man, and began to hassle him because of that collar of his. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Khyan Nykara]

A collar of gold was no trivial thing in Solunarium. A tempting thing, though it was, for high-sighted thieves looking to make a quick fortune, it was also a stark warning in a realm where justice was severe. It broadcast that this was an expensive piece of property worthy of being adorned by an expensive accessory. It made perfect sense that a foreigner lacking that context, might take the ensuing scuffle for an attempt to acquire the collar. Indeed, the collar came into it, but lacking knowledge of the local language, the stranger misperceived the scenario playing out before him.

"Fæx..." Khyan muttered to himself, as one of them called out to him. The drunken men who approached Khyan from behind were known to him. He lifted his voice in response, "Salvete, amici."

"Amici tui non sumus, Nykara." The leader of the three replied, sharply, grabbing the belt of Khyan's tunic and causing him to halt. The slave turned sharply to face him, and the larger human tapped his collar with a smirk. "Saltem dominum tuum video te auro ornatum."

"Nonne nimium hac nocte vinum habes?" Khyan wondered, which caused the other man to snarl and raise his voice.

"Noli mihi æqualis servus loqui!" He grabbed Khyan by the collar of his tunic, and drew him close to his face as the others chuckled while flanking him. "Me Dominum vocas!" He demanded with a grim smile. Khyan quivered with rage. These men who had been his lessers were now made his superiors.

"Ut vis, Domine." He said through clenched teeth. "Tamen..." Khyan's lips curled into a grim smile as he parted his teeth and two fangs flicked down suddenly, startling the assailant enough that he released the youth. "Ego sum res Gens Argenti. Rem alienam tangere non debes." The man stepped back, clearly startled by the fang drop.

[Dreyfus]

Company: Brutes, Slave | Thoughts: I should mind my business | Mood: Interested

---

☬ His eyes watched the scuffle between the slave and the drunken fools. He wanted to see whether or not he would truly have to step in and save the man. What he found infuriating is that he was having the damndest time trying to understand the language spoken here. The language barrier between him and the citizens was the one thing keeping him from truly gathering any information from them.

Hanging back a bit, he infused his hearing and sight with Voracity, allowing the rune to fill those senses and allow him to still be aware of what was going on without being noticed. It seemed there was a heated exchange between the slave and one of the drunken men who seemed pressed to get something from the slaveboy. However, Dreyfus found his eyes narrowing within intrigue as they seemed to back off the young male as if frightened by something. If his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, which was impossible with such keen eyesight, he swore he saw fangs, which he could only assume to be one of two things.

He was either in the presence of a rathari, or a vampyre. The prospect of another vampyre here beside himself filled his body with a warmth of joy, but he wouldn't jump the gun as he wanted to make sure he didn't get in trouble and jeopardize his current objective here. So far he was flying under the radar, and even if they noticed who or what he was, the powers at be hadn't acted yet which meant they didn't care about his actions, or he was so insignificant that they need not act at all.

Whatever the case had been Dreyfus put on the best concerned face he could muster. "Are alright my friend, I've been looking all over for you. I was worried you had gotten hurt when you ran off earlier. I came to check on you." he called, running a hand through his golden tresses as his eyes locked onto the collared male, a look of "Do you need help?" on them that he hoped bridged the language gap that was nestled between the vampyre and damn near everyone in the city he has come to meet so far. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Khyan Nykara]

"Etiam! Quid hoc est?" The lead aggressor took a few hasty steps back from Khyan, to put distance between himself and those teeth. Clearly he hadn't expected that. Remaining tentative, but not ready to retreat the man bore his own, less impressive, teeth in anger. He parted them to speak, when a strange interloper suddenly descended upon them speaking Common.

"Quis est iste cunnus?" The would-be assailant, regarded the apparent peregrinus with disdain, and Khyan looked at him strangely as well. He recognised him as the fellow he'd passed on the street, but he didn't recall having met him before and, being a master of Semblance, he was pretty sure he'd have at least remembered the Aura of the chap.

"Uhh..." The servus looked from the unfamiliar human to the small group of harassers, none of whom seemed to comprehend Common. Khyan knew the language enough to understand what the blonde man was saying. At least the content, if not the intent behind it.

"I, uhh... do no know you." Khyan's Common was broken and very thickly accented. More so than usual, in fact, as he had a bit of a lisp when his fangs were extended. "They no speak Common. You try help me? I theenk I have thees een hand."

The leader of the posse, snarled.

"Quid ais huic peregrino, Nykara?"

"Rogabat directiones." Khyan retorted dryly. "Viam ei dixi ad domum matris tuæ." He added with a fanged smirk. The leader seemed angry, but a few of the others actually laughed at Khyan's jape.

"Eamus modo!" One of the others urged, and the leader grunted angrily, but conceded muttering, "Purus", and backing away. He cast an angry glare to the strange-looking human who'd intruded on their discourse, and then the little party started off away from the pair. Watching them depart for a moment, Khyan then glanced over to the peregrinus.

"Who are you? Why you want get eenvolved?"

[Dreyfus]

Company: Brutes, Slave | Thoughts: I should mind my business | Mood: Interested

---

☬ His eyes narrowed as the slave shot his plan out of the water. But he couldn't fault the man for it, he was in a foreign land and not many would understand the social cues given with facial expressions or eye contact. His head tilted as he soaked up the accent as the young man struggled to speak common. It wasn't great but was understandable at least. The poor thing assured him they were of no concern, that he had the situation under control. That being said, Dreyfus was not content with leaving the man alone, just in case they decided to get physical.

It was frustrating not knowing what was being said amongst them, but the vampyre was glad to know that someone could speak common. His vitalis rune sang to life as he used Voracity once more, his eyes glowing a fiery crimson like mini suns as he took in the scent of each male present. Given his enhanced sense of smell from his animus initiation, coupled with Voracity, Dreyfus locked in the distinctness of their scents, and he would no doubt be feasting on one of the would-be attackers. After more words were exchanged between them, the group seemed to back off, turning and walking away, one of them hitting the vampyre in the shoulder with their own.

It took everything in him not to rend them to pieces, it would have been rather easy, and rather quickly as well. However, his attention was on the slave who now spoke to him more directly. With the red fading from his eyes, his vampiric orbs gazed at the slave. He was pretty, to say the least, with skin that seemed to be suffused with amber and a head full of well kept hair for a slave. He was of a lithe frame, and his scent was almost sweet, though covered with hints of the earth and sweat. Smiling, making sure to showcase his own fangs, Dreyfus nodded his head toward the man. "My apologies, but I couldn't help myself. I too was once in bondage myself in my homeland. I sympathized as I know what it's like to wear a collar, granted mine was psychological." he explained, tapping at the collar on the young man's neck.

He then realized that the slave may not fully understand all that was said, so he had to try and simplify his answer. "I was slave once, I wanted to help you." he spoke, giving him a slight bow. "I am Dreyfus, and you are?" the vampyre introduced, extending a hand out for the other to shake. If there was ever a time to put his charm and etiquette to use, it was now. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan blinked as the stranger's eyes began to glow an unnatural hue. It wasn't odd in Solunarium to enhance features with magic, but this didn't seem to be that or else why would he have done it just now and with such obvious purpose. Unsettled, he took a reflexive step backward. The intensity of his ostensible ire faded, and he turned his no-longer-glowing gaze upon Khyan- the expression becoming more appraising than wrathful.

When the man bared his fangs, Khyan promptly withdrew his own- His teeth returning to the appearance of being perfectly normal.

"Psychologeecal slave?" He knitted his brow, "Where ees your homeland, Peregrinus?" His comprehension of Common was far better than his pronunciation, so he'd gleaned more nuance than the man might have expected. There simply wasn't much cause to practise the language here. It had mostly been reading and he didn't speak it enough to have the grammatical intricacies at the tip of his tongue when he spoke.

Relaxing slightly, and resting back on one heel, he arched an eyebrow. He could Semble that, despite of the man's alien intentions, he was not posing an immediate threat. He glanced down at the offered hand, and hesitated. After a moment's pause, he tucked the handle of the basked under his left arm, before stepping forward and gripping him at the wrist with the right- Which was how Vastii shook saluted one another, as opposed to palm-to-palm as was done elsewhere in the world.

"Salve, Dræfus." He replied, "I am called Khyan." The slave looked the alleged former slave, appraisingly as he withdrew from the greeting.

"Why you come to Solunarium, Dræfus? I see you are, um..." He wasn't sure of the word in Common, "Sanguisor?" Unsure if that was clear, he tried another Vastian term, "Vitalisi?"

[Dreyfus]

Company: Brutes, Slave | Thoughts: I should mind my business | Mood: Interested

---

☬ His eyes shifted to the young man as he asked his questions. he was glad he could have a general conversation with the native. "I come from Zaichaer" he answered, smiling as the young introduced himself as Khyan. He watched as the young man hesitantly shook his hand, before asking a rather interesting question.

His eyes flared a bit as he looked down at Khyan, a brow quirking up as he was uncertain how in the world this stranger could know he was a vampyre. He knew he wasn't that sloppy in his feedings that anyone would have noticed him, let alone him using his powers, so how could this man he just met know he was one? Then he remembered that Talon had that same quality of discernment. He had half a mind to end the little welp as he could have someone knowing of his vampyre walking around.

Running a hand through his hair he chuckled. "I came here to escape the fallout of my home. Coincidentally, I'm also here to aid a friend of mine." he answered, being as vague as possible. the less he divulged the better. Though it did bring a curious question to mind. "Tell me are there other.......Sanguisor as you call them?" he inquired, tilting his head to the side as he bowed a bit.

He gestured for them to continue walking as the vampyre formulated his next move. "Let me walk you home." he offered, hoping the other would indulge his offer and provide answers to some of the questions he still had. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Khyan Nykara]

Barely perceptible clouds of sliver began to float in Khyan's eyes like the reflections of something he was observing, more than something behind his retinae, as he deepened his scan of the man's Aura. It was immediately noticeable that the man was not a Sembler himself, nor a Mesmer. This much was a relief.

"Zaichær? You are long way from home..." He arched a brow. He'd met a Northerner not long hence, but one from their rival city. It seemed there was in influx of foreigners to coincide with the fall of his house. It was odd. Were he better situated, as he'd been before Lex Agni, he might have been excited at the prospect. Though this man was not like Finn.

"You have friend een Solunarium? Who ees thees friend?" Khyan wondered. His neck tensed ever so slightly beneath the gold collar that rounded it, as he caught a twinge of murderous intent in the stranger's Aura. It was a passing fancy, but it was clear this man was a killer and to so casually brook so pernicious a whim suggested a dangerously unstable personality. He quickly softened his expression toward a smile, as if nothing amiss had revealed itself to his preternatural senses.

"Of course we have Sanguisori. But eet ees not common..." He hesitated a bit at Dreyfus' offer to escort him home.

"Umm..." The notion of spending more time in the company of this mercurially malevolent figure was a daunting one, but based on his assessment it might have been more dangerous to deny him. Volatile personalities could be quick to rage when they perceived a slight, so Khyan reluctantly consented.

"Very well." He hung the basket on his arm, and headed down a street on a westerly course.

"Have you been een Solunarium long? How are you, uhh... staying fed?" It was a delicate question, but it seemed a pertinent one. He was glad they were in public, but the man clearly wished to know where he lived, which was not ideal. Hopefully he was well sated for the nonce.