Vlad's POV
Vlad sunk into his large leather chair and settled into his work, although he couldn't really focus. His mind kept trailing off in different directions. This time it was trailing off to an incident that happened a month ago. He was training, trying to increase the size and heat of his fireballs when an unsuspecting Ingrid happend to nearly walk in front of one. He felt so guilty, and apologised repeatedly to the stunned Ingrid in front of him. It also didn't help that his father and sister were being a bit more wary of him. Although this came with the upside of less arguing at the dining table. It was a relief, but was quite odd to Vlad, that was used to the constant squabbling. The uncomfortable silence was very unusual between them.
Past • Ingrid's POV
Ingrid was livid. Her father wanted to check up on Vlad but was too danm lazy to do it himself. The count couldn't send Renfield, because he was 'preparing lunch' for the Draculas. As she stormed through the corridor to the training room/basement, she was greeted by a wall of fire passing her nose, so close that it burnt. All of a sudden the wall disappeared, revealing a disheveled, tired looking Vlad that had horror spread on his features. He flitted over to his, now impossibly shade paler sister. She was on verge of collapse as Vlad's mouth kept spluttering out apology after apology. Ingrid, angry with Vlad, decided to search for her father's reassurance, although rare, it did come out one a century when she was in desperate need of it.
She flitted to her fathers side whilst, again, he was lounging in this throne. Ingrid collapsed onto her father's lap. Her little brother had nearly fireballed her out of existence! The little son of a bat! What she hadn't realised was the count stroking her ink black hair in attempt to calm down the young female vampire. She ended up explaining to the count what happned.
Count Dracula's POV
The count's face had stiffened into a worried frown. He hadn't seen his daughter so distraught since her half-fang boyfriend was dusted in Stokely. She had told him that Vladdy had managed to create a very, very large fireball and proceeded to throw it, without knowing Ingrid's whereabouts, and that was right next to it. His son had been named the chosen one for just over a decade now, and he was already capable of doing things such as that. The count had no real knowledge of how much power little Vladdy actually had, but was a little scared to find out for himself. He would become a bit more wary whilst his son was around, just in case Vlad was.. In a bad mood. His son could reduce the count to dust quite easily in that mood, and feel no guilt. He'd experienced that on Vladdy's 16th birthday. Either way, it would be safer for him and Ingrid to keep quiet. Wouldn't it?
Present • Vlad's POV
Vlad had just finished writing a response to a rather annoying member of the Grand High Council, checking up on him all the time. Making sure he was, infact, undead, not dust. Although that was the vampire's job, Vlad still had a kick out of writing the slightly overdramatised letters, riddled with sarcasm. He read over it, making sure it wasn't too sarcastic that it would be considered professional. Half way through reading his dramatic letter, he decided he really didn't care how it sounded. He was the Grand High Vampire for the Devil's sake, why would he. The fact that he had started to fall asleep multiple times during writing the letter might have had a strong effect on his decision aswell. Picking up his black feathered quill, he diped it in a pot of black ink and masterfully scribed his signature on the yellowing paper's bottom.
All of the VHC documents had been completed, which left mainly junk mail, although there was the odd love letter. Vlad found it funny in a way. When he was younger, girls never really seemed to like him, or notice him to be honest. However, after his 16th birthday, this changed, and even more after his 18th. What was it about the darkness in someone's soul made them more attractive? Vlad pondered. He always told himself it was because he was the Grand High Vampire he received such things, but was unsure by now. It was quite hard deciphering how attractive you were without a reflection. The last time he saw his reflection was a few weeks prior to his 18th birthday, when he gradually lost his powers. In that time he felt so weak and helpless. Feeling normal had been his dream, but in that moment, he desperately wanted his power back. He wanted to be a vampire. Something he never thought he would say or think, but he did. He had changed since he last saw himself gazing back at himself. Granted, he gained his powers at 13 so it would have been concerning if he hadn't. He dressed and looked different, but also gave of a different persona to his 13 year old self. Darker. Deadlier in a sence. He couldn't have changed that much since then. Immortality did preserve a vampire's body after all. Coming back from his trail of thought, he set to sorting out his now cluttered desk.
He dubbed most of the papers as junk and threw them in the bin. However, one caught his eye. It was no different from the rest. Reaching into the bin, he grabbed a small envelope. Only a small, brown envelope, but something about it made Vlad curious. But he was tired, and was desperate to retire to his coffin and sleep. Hesitantly, Vlad put down the letter and enclosed him self in his metal coffin.
Woooh! Finished! Ye that's all I have to say really, except that i'll keep writing and probably get a chapter out by, let's say Sunday.
