I tried to do the 100-word thing with this, but unfortunately I did not succeed.
This is kinda sorta for Rowan Rawr. I hope she reads/likes it.
Mr. Larten Crepsley, a.k.a. Vur Horston, a.k.a. plenty of other names that even he has forgotten, does not dance.
This is generally known by all in Vampire Mountain. Larten doesn't drink, sing, or have any even vaguely licentious habits at all—which many think is a shame. If Webster's was a picture dictionary, Darren is fond of saying (from a safe distance), Larten's picture would be right next to that bold syllable-separated word 'uptight'.
Of course, the past is a different matter, and sometimes when he is alone and the glittering stars suggest other heavenly orbs long since faded, sometimes when the faint melody of days gone by comes threading out of thin-stretched memories, sometimes when the room could almost be filled with swaying skirts and shining shoes except that really he's alone but there's one other person that only he sees, if one were to eavesdrop one might hear the shuffle of one-two-three and a music box chime. And if one were to peer around the doorway one might just see a figure in red, softly swirling, borne away on the sweetness of a time when there was anyone to dance with—clasped in his gentle grasp the memory of a woman dark as the night who ought to have been there tonight, who once was there, and could have been forever.
But that was then, and this is now.
So Mr. Larten Crepsley, a.k.a. Vur Horston, a.k.a. plenty of other names that even he has forgotten, dances with no one…
…every chance he gets.