[Requiem - XRE] "A Change in the Wind"
The Moor looked out over the neon haze glow of the bustling Chinatown district of the City of Angels. The sound of street traffic, the noise of the masses of cattle, and the very presence of the urban sprawl filled his senses as he gazed out across the place he had used as a tenuous anchor these past fifty years.
If he had had need to breathe the tall immaculately dressed Shadow would have sighed deeply, yet he was still. A stillness of internal reflection and reserved consideration as his eyes absorbed the details of the early evening. While the Moor's face was a neutral mask hidden behind a diplomatically genial smile, the dark eyes conveyed the intensity of the mind behind it.
"It is complete, I find myself intrigued by this sensation. Once more I feel this thing called regret, or perhaps it is melancholy... yes, I believe it is melancholy. How remarkable. I can only ascertain that I truly will miss this city, if one can truly ever miss anything so transitory and inconstant as a mortal metropolis."
The wind was dry and cool, on this December evening, the sent of car exhaust, and human existence both was cloying and thick to the elder Mekhet's hyper advanced senses, somewhere deep within the recoils of his mind, an abstract ideal of a coil serpent hungrily consumed every detail, every nuance registered by those senses only to file and fill his virtual landscape with more and ever constantly growing symbolic detritus, to be assimilated and measured for worth at some later time of inactivity or need.
The Moor stirred, his gaze flicking northward for just a moment, a second of curled thoughtful brow more from the automated response crafted to blend with the lesser but still needful mortal populace than any true purpose of change.
"The choice has been made, and I have run the statistics innumerable times. My direct involvement with the study of subject designation IN122..." The Moor paused and reflected even upon his own private thoughts, "with the study of Barnabas' praxis has ended. As expected the cycle has ended and the transference has begun. The associated instability while of some interest will only cause undue disruption to the other studies, there is nothing must be done directly that can not be done remotely. Lucia's arrival as expected allows for me to both tend to any tendrils that the... Family may wish to have in my affairs, as well as allow her some exercise of her training. Undue focus on the trivialities of New England and Familial politics has mired her training to an unacceptable degree. Observation of the change in regime and it's causal reactions will no doubt sharpen her skills once more, or remove her as a concern."
Silently the emotional landscape of the enigmatic Moor played behind the mask of neutral gentility. The near statue like immobility of the dark-skinned vampire breaks, with the smooth easy motion of the retrieval of the silver crafted pocket watch, a review of the time pieces face and a pause... "New York would have been an interesting choice, but Thomas' activities have no need of my interference, even as a mere presence. And the rest of them have yet to reach that critical nexus where my interaction shall become necessary, I must sharpen the window of error. No... The eastern seaboard is to... distracting at the moment for direct and continuous involvement. Best to remain in the relative isolation of the West."
The Moor stood his eyes north for moments or perhaps hours, the sound of the buildings roof entrance opening and shutting, the hypersensitive ears pricking recording and analyzing the steps, breathing pattern, and smell of his aide informs him before a word is exchange the next phase has arrived.
The lightly accented Scots accent of the tall, yet stocky retainer is a barely considered whisper as the Moor continues to face the sky-scape and records the Los Angeles night into the annals of his draconic memory palace. Euan's words are barely finished, "Posts from Sr. de Lagos and Mssr. Roland, sir." And the Shadow is moving with a clean economy of motion, smooth and elegant. He nods politely to his aid, who turns in step to open the door, the two enter the Chinatown high-rise and enter the belly of the beast together and silent.
The city stirs and thrums, countless stars above seemingly outmatched by boundless lights of the urban streets. The sea of noise, life, and death washing over it all, like waves upon a rocky shore.
Eternal.
Changing.
Timeless.
If he had had need to breathe the tall immaculately dressed Shadow would have sighed deeply, yet he was still. A stillness of internal reflection and reserved consideration as his eyes absorbed the details of the early evening. While the Moor's face was a neutral mask hidden behind a diplomatically genial smile, the dark eyes conveyed the intensity of the mind behind it.
"It is complete, I find myself intrigued by this sensation. Once more I feel this thing called regret, or perhaps it is melancholy... yes, I believe it is melancholy. How remarkable. I can only ascertain that I truly will miss this city, if one can truly ever miss anything so transitory and inconstant as a mortal metropolis."
The wind was dry and cool, on this December evening, the sent of car exhaust, and human existence both was cloying and thick to the elder Mekhet's hyper advanced senses, somewhere deep within the recoils of his mind, an abstract ideal of a coil serpent hungrily consumed every detail, every nuance registered by those senses only to file and fill his virtual landscape with more and ever constantly growing symbolic detritus, to be assimilated and measured for worth at some later time of inactivity or need.
The Moor stirred, his gaze flicking northward for just a moment, a second of curled thoughtful brow more from the automated response crafted to blend with the lesser but still needful mortal populace than any true purpose of change.
"The choice has been made, and I have run the statistics innumerable times. My direct involvement with the study of subject designation IN122..." The Moor paused and reflected even upon his own private thoughts, "with the study of Barnabas' praxis has ended. As expected the cycle has ended and the transference has begun. The associated instability while of some interest will only cause undue disruption to the other studies, there is nothing must be done directly that can not be done remotely. Lucia's arrival as expected allows for me to both tend to any tendrils that the... Family may wish to have in my affairs, as well as allow her some exercise of her training. Undue focus on the trivialities of New England and Familial politics has mired her training to an unacceptable degree. Observation of the change in regime and it's causal reactions will no doubt sharpen her skills once more, or remove her as a concern."
Silently the emotional landscape of the enigmatic Moor played behind the mask of neutral gentility. The near statue like immobility of the dark-skinned vampire breaks, with the smooth easy motion of the retrieval of the silver crafted pocket watch, a review of the time pieces face and a pause... "New York would have been an interesting choice, but Thomas' activities have no need of my interference, even as a mere presence. And the rest of them have yet to reach that critical nexus where my interaction shall become necessary, I must sharpen the window of error. No... The eastern seaboard is to... distracting at the moment for direct and continuous involvement. Best to remain in the relative isolation of the West."
The Moor stood his eyes north for moments or perhaps hours, the sound of the buildings roof entrance opening and shutting, the hypersensitive ears pricking recording and analyzing the steps, breathing pattern, and smell of his aide informs him before a word is exchange the next phase has arrived.
The lightly accented Scots accent of the tall, yet stocky retainer is a barely considered whisper as the Moor continues to face the sky-scape and records the Los Angeles night into the annals of his draconic memory palace. Euan's words are barely finished, "Posts from Sr. de Lagos and Mssr. Roland, sir." And the Shadow is moving with a clean economy of motion, smooth and elegant. He nods politely to his aid, who turns in step to open the door, the two enter the Chinatown high-rise and enter the belly of the beast together and silent.
The city stirs and thrums, countless stars above seemingly outmatched by boundless lights of the urban streets. The sea of noise, life, and death washing over it all, like waves upon a rocky shore.
Eternal.
Changing.
Timeless.