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As they entered the Gates, Sidnay could already hear the roar of music. He had been awake all night waiting for this concert; a whole day of being with Tora (his crush) and the only friend he had in England, Jacob, while they listened to first rate music.
Sidnay was very different from most of the people present. For one thing he wore all black, and had a hood pulled over his head, for another, he never liked being out in daylight. And the fact that he was a vampire contributed to his differential. Sidnay himself was a guitar player; it was perhaps the one constant in his life, the one thing he could always turn to and lose himself in, and when one is theoretically immortal, the escape is more necessary than many people will presume it to be.
NOTE: A word on Vampires: Vampires are perhaps the most misunderstood of all magical creatures. Certain myths have grown around them, many of which are false. Vampires do live off of blood, however most are so melancholy they rarely attack humans, unless under an influence known as 'bloodlust' or are pestered. If left alone to their own melancholic existence, they are usually gentile and sophisticated, enjoying their own super-underground society. The word Melancholy Is the best word to describe them, for the average vampire, due to a theoretically unlimited existence as well as a cursed and infernal damnation, means they can experience limited pleasure and that after death, damnation is almost a guarantee. Damned in this life and the next, combined with persecution by all non-vampires, vampires tend to keep to themselves, and can also be very deep and philosophical, being able to view society over a long period of time. They are not servants, and when treated as such, violence is almost inevitable. It must be understood that there are tow kinds of vampires: Primus and Auxilia. The auxilia, are merely animated corpses who stock the night seeking blood, no thought, nor logic simply action. Auxilia are usually brought into existence by baronial vampires in order to expand territory. Primus vampires are more akin to humans: able to think extremely abstractly, logically, and deeply. They have powers no human can understand, and with age, experience and social class their powers can only grow.
On vampire class systems, they resemble feudal warlords. Every region in the world is owned by a vampire family, amongst the most powerful and ancient are the MacBeths of Scotland, the Drakulyas (Dracula) of Romania, the Chang Xi of China, the Volgostoks of Russia, the Kageshima of Japan and the more recent O'Brian's of America. Social status in Vampire society, are determined by birth right, which bring along privileges, hindrances and greater power. Each class will have a greater variety of powers, but age brings greater power and ability. Therefore it is not uncommon to find an elderly guardsman more powerful than an overlord who is recent to this earth. Thus respect is given to those of great power and of great class.
On the Dracula family: They are not the most singularly powerful family, but are regarded with tremendous respect by the vampire community. The line was started by Vladimir Tepes (the Impaler of lore). Contrary to popular culture, the Dracula's own, by right, only Transylvania, but their direct influence is over all of the Balkans, Turkey, Southern Europe, much of Arabia, and Central Europe. Speculation as to whether Vladimir Tepes still lives among us as head of a coalition of vampiric forces still exists, but there is little factual evidence to support such a claim, and the title of Count Dracula falls, currently, to the Dracule clan, Dracula's grandchildren.
Having such long life, and such a melancholic/hellish existence there are two causes to vampire's death: one is suicide, the other slayers. The older a vampire the more dangerous, thus slayers are employed by Ministries of Magic around the world to keep the population down.
The Vampiric warrior surfaces only in times when they are needed, although all male vampire children are taught the 'Skilros Thanatos' or 'Hard Death', mock term for the rules which the warrior follows. Vampires in battle do not use magic directly, but prefer using hand to hand combat weapons, able to leap high in the air and land amidst their foes. Their weapons are generally self made, but of very high quality, and imbued with their own magic. Because of their emphasis on close arms training, vampire warriors generally suffer very high casualties, but this does not matter greatly to them, because since death is preferred to life, death in battle allows them to die with honor.
And so with thoughts only of music on his mind, Sidnay (Sid) Dracule, took his seat with his friends and waited for the concert to begin.
The concert had gone well; the sky thundered with applause. The Weird Sisters backed off stage, and they cold hear the crowd dispersing, but there were a few fans left, the die hard ones calling for an encore, but this was common. They simply left their instrument on the stage and walked off, with the aloofness of a rock star. Now it was a time of relaxing and partying...and mingling with the groupies. That was what was on Michael Gladstone's mind as he left the stage.
His singing had been in good form as usual, and the band had been in rare form this evening...now alls that was left was to relax...
Sidnay searched the aisles of people searching for her: the drinks were making his hand cold! 'Maybe she's out waiting for me..." he thought to himself and than headed back towards the exit...and there he saw her...in his arms...embracing with a fire he had never seen before. The cups fell form his hand, at about the same time his stomach dropped. Both hit the ground at the same time though... "Guitar...where..." it was the only thing that could come to his mind, his only outlet...his soul. And there, before him, a gift from...god! He stumbled over to it as if he were a crusader who had finally found the Holy Grail. He didn't stop to think for a second that the owner might object to his playing it...or that it might still be plugged in...or the sound system might still be on...or that people MIGHT just turn and stare at him. Such fine details didn't cross his mind, the only sensation he had was that of flying...of soaring...leaving the world below as a flurry of notes leapt off his fingers...
They were halfway back to their ride when Michael spun around as the rest of the band did...music...someone was playing a guitar on the stage." What the..."said Gerry O'Brien, the Guitarist of the Weird Sisters," There were no acts scheduled for today after us..."they ran to the stage, expecting to see some drunks swaggering around posing for photos...instead they found a boy sitting on the edge of the stage, drawing more and more peoples attention. "Damn…".muttered Jerome Finley, the drummer," He...isn't bad!" Gerry and Jerome along with the Bassist, took a look at each other and walked out onto the stage, and took up their instruments and joined in.
Sid was aware only on a physical level the roar of the crowd, and the presence of these musicians he loved. All that mattered to him was the music...
From time to time Gerry or Jerome would look back at Michael and shake their heads in awe at this kid. When he stopped playing the crowd roared and they walked over to congratulate him, laughing at the stunned expression on his face, to find himself staring at his idols, and their grinning approval of his music. All this time Michael had been sitting there, his mind...blown. Slowly he walked out to great applause and said quietly, to the kid," You...I...I have a deal for you..."