The sun sat low in the west, its waning light staining the sky a robust orange around the horizon. Above and opposite, the dark blue of incoming dusk dominated the sky, the waves of the ocean beneath nearly matched in shade. Day's final moments ended as the bright star nestled itself beneath the curve of the earth, and the brightness of the moon and stars dominated.
Approaching the east coast of the United States, a black plane flew, piloted by a pair of human accomplices to the passengers. The front windows were fully open, a stark contrast to the rest on the plane, all of which were sealed tightly shut. When the sun finally set, the co-pilot flicked a switch on their headset, and spoke over the cabin's intercom. "We are officially past sunset. It's safe to take a look outside."
The cabin of the plane was predictably dark. Locks on the bottoms of the screens prevented any sunlight from entering, whether from a mistaken nudge of a shutter or a possible inebriated challenge issued among passengers. At the message from the pilot, they all simultaneously disengaged, but remained shut unless anyone actively lifted them. There was some light coming from the roof's row of bulbs, but it was kept dim and appropriately moody. A far cry from a typical passenger plane, the interior of the cabin was highly decorative and meant for comfortable travels. A deep red carpet and black leatherbound furniture lined the walls, a bent sofa lining the wall separating the cabin from the cockpit. Chairs and tables were around as well, all of course bolted to the ground to prevent any mishaps in turbulent weather.
A sizable number of Nightkin were riding, seated across the cabin making smalltalk or fiddling with a stereo, currently broadcasting a preferred classical tune of their leader. Vicente, seated in a chair near a shuttered window, raised the blinds to look out. Leaning onto the armrest nearest the wall, he rested his jaw against his fist while peering outside, his leg idly crossing over the other. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" He asked aloud, speaking to no one person in particular. A few more windows went up around the plane's interior, other deciding to take a peek for themselves. He addressed another one of the vampires present more directly after she looked outside. Seated across from him was Lucina, who was fiddling with an open laptop sat in front of her.
"Do we have an estimate of when we'll arrive?" There were appointments to be had after their landing, and the sooner they were out of the way, the better. A meeting with the other community leaders in the area would at best be a fruitless attempt to quell hostilities before things continued on as they had for years, and at worst be a disastrous bloodbath. At the time, Vicente was fine with either.
Lucina adjusted her glasses with a quick push of her middle finger, eyes trailing across her computer's screen to the route planner she had set before they left. "We're about an hour from land at most. Our contacts are waiting for us at the airport. The safehouse you picked out is ready for us as well."
"And the decor?" A safehouse was hardly worth staying in if it wasn't a comfortable experience, and Vicente had asked for some very specific setups. Safety, of course, was a necessary part of the building's preparation. An enchanted iron fence with some silver strewn throughout would act as quite a useful barrier against anything supernatural, darkened windows would help keep anyone from an unfortunate end during daylight hours, and a plentiful cache of weaponry for defense and hunts had been shipped in as well. Ideally, it would all come together effectively.
"As you requested. The cellars were expanded to fit some of the more special requests, and a private room in the attic has been put together. And yes, it has a fireplace." Lucina closed the computer, leaving it plugged in, and scooted it off to the side of the table. "You're ready?"
A smile crept across Vicente's face. "If I wasn't, we wouldn't be coming here. I'm more than sure this will go smoothly. If the Acerbis happen to get there first, well, that's what the guns are for." He fully anticipated immediate conflict. Meetings gone bad, an encounter on the street before they had officially made their presence known, or even a run-in with something else entirely. One could never be too careful in the part of society they operated within.
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DC's night streets had become host to all manner of creatures. Urban areas were already an ideal home for certain kinds of people, the ever-increasing sprawl offering protection and territories, while the population made for an extremely convenient food source. News of the big archaeological discovery had spread fast, and its display within the Smithsonian museum was an attractive target for all sorts of folk, supernatural or otherwise. The spike in activity within the DC territory invariably led to trouble.
Whether it was a newly moved in vampire with lofty hopes of starting a new coven, a less than agreeable witch looking for supplies of a certain sort, or a therianthrope caught at a bad time of the month, locals within the territory had begun to hunt down problematic newcomers to dispose of them before things went bad. Two such individuals were on such an investigation after a mauled corpse turned up in a park. Reports suggested some sort of animal attack, but the draining of blood and viciousness of the wounds were some degree of proof that something else was lurking within the city.
Days had passed since the killing, but no other bodies had turned up. There wasn't much of a trail, simply the knowledge that something had preyed on a local bystander and was likely still within the area. Patience was wearing slightly thin. Drake, one of the two on the lookout for whoever their target may have been, vocalized his displeasure of another night spent looking for something instead of getting fed himself. "How can we be sure they're still around? Dumbass probably stayed out too late and got fried anyway." A hand idly patted at the side of his jacket, confirming the security of the holster hidden in his underarm beneath it. He played it off by crossing his arms, hoping to avoid the suspicion of any bystanders outside of their vocal range.
"Maybe," Mariko answered, rolling her shoulders as she walked alongside her fledgeling. "Or maybe they're holed up somewhere, waiting until they need to feed again. Do you want to risk having someone else get hurt?" While feeding on humans was necessary for their existence, she found killing them to be supremely distasteful and even a display of weakness. Self control while feeding was admittedly hard, especially for younger vampires, but to give into animalistic hunger was nothing short of disgraceful. In a more pragmatic stance, deaths of this sort tended to draw the attention of people who
did know what was going on, and dealing with them was never a pleasant time.
Tightly pursing his lips, Drake refrained from giving an immediate answer. His eyes diverted across the street, watching people stroll along. For a few moments he remained silent, but eventually, he gave a defeated sigh and answered. "No, of course not. What, you think I'm that much of a prick?" He questioned, turning his gaze back to the elder. An expression that began to subtly form on his face, slightly raised brows and upturned mouth corners, made it fairly clear he wasn't being serious.
In response, Mariko made eye silent contact with him for a few seconds. She then answered, smiling a little herself. "Sometimes." She continued to walk, passing by Drake as he stopped in his tracks at her answer. "But you're getting better. Keep it up and you'll be presentable soon."
During his pause in movement, Drake's expression shifted to a more obviously amused one. He almost responded with a quip, but decided against that and continued to walk, jogging a few steps to catch up again.