With the weather cool, many people went for a walk, hoping to avoid the traffic that usually plagues New York. There was a sea of humanity in the streets, flowing in all directions. Even if each face had a place to go to, every step was a step towards the future. Whether it was for gaining something good, or it was for avoiding something bad, each step was a step full of hope. Some people just had more hope than others.

Nathan Mahler walked among the crowd, and each step he took was full of apprehension. He walked slowly because his mind was occupied with his memories. These were sad memories that nobody would want to remember. Unfortunately for him, forgetting them was just not possible, even if he drinks too much wine. Even more unfortunate for him, was history's habit of repeating itself.

Nathan looked around, and sighed. With the streets still full of people, it will be hard to get to his destination. It was a nice evening, and he didn't want to spend it sneaking around. Spotting a tavern in an alleyway, he decided to wait there for a bit.

As Nathan entered the bar, he noticed that it was empty. It didn't surprise him though, as it wasn't the type of bar that people frequent to meet other people. It felt more like the type of bar where old folks hang out and trade stories. It was too early for that, but he didn't mind the solitude. The bartender was usually the best listener and the best storyteller anyway.

Noticing Nathan, the bartender reached for the television. Just before he was supposed to turn it on, he looks at Nathan. Nathan shook his head in disapproval. The bartender stops, and walks towards his first patron, who was by now sitting on a barstool.

"Good evening. What will you be having?" asked the bartender.

Nathan took off the hat he was wearing and put it on the counter. "Do you have some red wine?"

"Sure we do." replied the bartender. He then got a bottle of wine, and removed the cork. Then he poured some wine into a wineglass. "You look like a guy who doesn't like old wine. Lucky for you the last bottle was empty so I had to open a new one."

Nathan took a sip of wine. "Thank you."

The bartender continued the conversation. "So, what brings you to New York? From the way you're dressed, you look like you're into theater." He was referring to Nathan's getup, which made Nathan look like a stereotypical reporter from several decades back.

"You could say that." replied Nathan. "I'm an actor in tragedies." He took another sip of wine.

"Aren't you afraid that you might be typecast into such a role?" asked the bartender. "Isn't it depressing to be acting in sad stories all the time?"

Nathan put down the glass. "It's not really my choice. I work with a dedicated director, and it's up to him to decide what type of play he wants."

"Well, you could try other kinds of stories." said the bartender.

"It's not my place to do that." continued Nathan. "Then again, who am I to complain? The lead actresses are the ones who bear most of the burden of the performance."

As the bartender was about to reply, another figure entered the tavern. It was a big man, taller and stockier than Nathan or the bartender. He also carried himself with an aggressive stance, not something you would expect from somebody going to a tavern. The mask made it clear that he was a robber. He pulled out a pistol, and pointed it at the bartender and Nathan.

"Give me the money!" yelled the robber.

The bartender kept his cool and cooperated. He went towards the cash register slowly, not wanting to surprise the robber into doing anything violent. Nathan could tell that the sangfroid was a facade, hearing the heartbeat of the bartender get faster. Taking another sip from his wine, he ignored the robber. Upon noticing that Nathan was ignoring him, the robber stomped towards Nathan.

Nathan frowned. The last thing that he wanted was to file a police report. That takes time, and he had other plans for the evening. He didn't want to show his true strength either. That would be anticlimactic, and that would probably give the bartender an aneurysm. Waiting for the right moment to act, he allowed the robber to get closer to him.

When the robber was just about to poke Nathan with the gun, Nathan stood up. Before the robber could react, Nathan grabbed the hand with the gun, putting one of his fingers in the trigger to prevent a misfire. With a flick of his wrist, he heard a pop, dislocating the wrist of the robber. Lastly, with his free hand, he jabbed the robber hard in the ribs, breaking two ribs.

The robber let go of the gun and dropped to the floor, but he didn't feel any pain yet. Only a few moments later did his face turn into a grimacing rictus. He had originally planned to be a little bit richer that night but instead, he was down on the ground, coughing out blood and screaming in pain.

Nathan didn't know the robber, but the scene looked familiar. Once again, he was standing over the bodies of his foes, albeit this time, his opponent was alive. He noticed that not much has changed with humans. Technology may have improved, but cries of pain still sounded the same. People still regarded those who are more powerful and different the same way as well. He looked down on the robber, who stared back at him with eyes full of fear.

Nathan didn't have time for this. He put the gun down on the counter, got his hat, and left five dollars under the gun. He then proceeded to head to the exit.

The bartender, who was obviously in awe of that display of martial arts prowess, suddenly realized Nathan was leaving. "Hey, don't you have to give your account to the police! A crime just happened!"

Nathan continued walking away. "A crime didn't happen. Tell the police that you beat the robber up." Then he smiled at the robber, his eye glinting at the dim light of the bar. "I'm sure he'll corroborate the story."

When Nathan got out of the tavern, he looked around again, and seeing as there were less people on the streets, started walking once more. From a distance he heard the police sirens, but he paid them no attention. He was pretty sure the bartender and the robber won't cause him trouble. Even if they did, he doubt the police would believe them as his performance was flawless, both unforgettable and indescribable. Besides, he has something else to do for the evening.

After a few blocks of walking, he saw a small flower shop. He went inside the store, and then began browsing the different blossoms on display. There were tulips and lilies but these did not suit his fancy. He called the attention of the attendant, a portly looking fellow who was bored with his duties. "Excuse me, but do you have any roses?"

The attendant replied to Nathan with a happy voice, clearly pleased that his monotony has been broken. "I think I still have some, sir. Still, it would have been much better if you got some earlier. It's a nice night and lots of people are going out on dates." He then knelt and began checking the refrigerator under the front shelf.

Nathan put down the bouquet he was holding and turned to the attendant. "Yes, I noticed. I myself have an appointment this evening."

Finished with finding the roses, the attendant stood up, and put five boxes on the front shelf. There were three blue roses, a red rose and a white rose. "You're in luck sir. I still have some left. They may not be as fresh as they were this morning, but hey, science works its wonders."

Nathan frowned slightly. He knew one such person who was a sacrifice for science. "Yes, quite."

The attendant looked concerned, worried that he might lose a potential customer. "Is anything the matter sir?"

Nathan smiled once more, putting the attendant at ease. "No. I just remembered something."

The attendant, looking relieved, suggested something to the florist. He was hoping to get a tip for extra service. "Well, since there are three blue roses, I could take them out of their boxes and make you a small bouquet?"

"No thank you. I'd like these three kept separately." said Nathan. He picked up two blue roses, and one red rose.

The florist smiled, looking clearly amused. "Quite the player are we sir? Well, it's none of my business really, but you shouldn't them meet each other. That'll just be trouble for you."

"No, that wouldn't be a problem. They've moved on already. How much are these." replied Nathan. He put the assumptions of the florist to rest.

The florist looked a bit disappointed. He had wanted to extend the conversation and get Nathan to buy more flowers. "That'll be around seven dollars sir."

Nathan took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the attendant. "Here you go. Keep the change." He then started walking way.

The attendant looked very happy from receiving a big tip. "Thank you. Come back anytime sir. Have a good evening."

Nathan heard a familiar rhythm, a sound that once had been a important facet of his life. Facing the source of the sound, he saw a horse drawn carriage carrying a pair of tourists wide eyed at the many lights of New York City. As the carriage went disappeared in the depths of Central park, the canter of the horse filled him with nostalgia, carrying him back to a time when the concerns of immortality were not his.

XXXXXXXXXX

The smell of the horse, as well as subtle hints of pine and cedar filled Nathan's nostrils. His face was coated in sweat, as the humidity of forest, the heat of sun, and the confines of his helm combined to his discomfort. He ignored it though. As he approached the edge of the forest, he looked to his left and to his right and saw other knights, their armor shining from the streaks of sunlight seeping through the forest canopy. It filled him with pride, knowing that he was their leader.

Nathan paused as he reached the edge of the forest, and raised the visor of his helm to survey the plain before them. There was a village and a river after that. As he squinted, he saw columns of smoke rise from the village. With a quick poke of his spurs, his warhorse went from a stop to a gallop, and he charged towards the village, hoping to do battle with the unknown invaders that assailed it.

Nathan felt a sting when the sweat reached his eyes, but he kept them open. His ears rang with the thunderous sound of cavalry, but it sounded more like a distant whisper. His mind went blank, banishing the fear of death, leaving him purely in the moment. In that instance, with his left hand firmly on the reins of his warhorse, he grabbed his sword, pointed it to the burning village, and yelled a battle cry as loud as he could.

"DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?"

Notes:

Nobody's writing a Nathan story? Am I the only person who finds him cool?

Anyway, I took risks writing this fan fiction. First, I didn't use any of the popular characters from Blood+. I've been browsing a lot of the stories, and most of the possible story hooks have been covered. Second, I used a lot of original characters. It's really hard to develop multiple characters. Third, I used a historical setting. I've done a lot of research on it, but I can still make a mistake.

If you have anything you want to talk about, feel free to contact me. I worked hard on this story and I hope you guys like it. Please read and review.