1632 Revello Drive

One – Routines and Neighbors

Late 1996 – Sunnydale, California

A routine quickly developed around Cornelius's life in Sunnydale. He was the odd old man on a street full of quiet, well meaning, hard working Californians and he left well enough alone so they left him alone. He pretended to vote, he couldn't of course, it was not due to an apolitical feeling so much as it was a registry issue, as an immortal, he didn't have the patience to assume a new identity every century or so just to partake in a political process that for the most part managed to leave him alone. He worked, though he did not need the money, being wealthy beyond imagining due to his long life.

He felt it constructive to have something to do with his time as he traveled down the years so he picked up a part-time position at a hardware store to better blend in. He felt it a bit touch on the nose to become a librarian or some other chronicler. The red apron had joined his peaked hat and cloak on his door rack, next to which even six years in still leaned a tall wooden staff that wouldn't have looked out of place in a storybook.

Cornelius had made no real effort to make friends; though he was friendly enough and he kept evil things away from the neighborhood where he lived. The layers of wards and protective spells on every house were some of his most subtle work in a long time. He had tried to erect more in a few other places but found it frustratingly difficult and beyond his ability. The wizard spent his off time both around the town and in the local libraries. His own collection of reading material while enormous, was often older than some countries. It helped to read newer things, new discoveries were made constantly, after all.

It was about eight o'clock when the library closed its doors and the old man started on his way back to his home when he felt something watching him. Its gaze felt old and predatory in a novel sort of way. "I was under the impression you people preferred your prey… younger, sprier, than someone such as I." He was not afraid, though he should've been, the little hairs on the back of his neck stood up and every bone in his body was telling him to run, to die fleeing as opposed to standing.

"So the lamb knows the wolf. How interesting…" The voice belonged to a man once, though no longer. "Pray tell, lamb, what keyed you in?" The vampire put a hand on Cornelius's shoulder, stopping his slow pace. The wizard shuddered ever so lightly as he came to a halt, it was never comfortable being touched by the undead, even for people like him.

"Oh, I've been around a long time. Seen a few things in that time, too." He played the bumbling old man well as he spun Power around his finger tips.

"Yeah, I betcha have… You're right, though, I usually don't eat old men. You're tired, your blood isn't fresh. But, a boy's gotta eat. Don't take it too personally." The vampire, formally a fellow named James, spun the old man around and bared his fangs, his demonic visage would've horrified anyone else and understandably so. Cornelius just stared at him quizzically for an instant instead as he stretched out a hand.

Fire bloomed from the wizard's palm, catching the vampire's coat alight, the old leather burned well despite the night's humid air; to the credit of the creature of the night, it did not die. But fire has a way of making ones self remarkably less well preserved. It did however engage in trying to pat the fire out, backpedaling as it did so. It did not see the remarkably thin wooden blade that appeared from nowhere and blossomed out of the vampire's chest with a flick of Cornelius's wrist.

"Fire, heart. Same old." The wizard sighed and kicked the ashes as they fell to the earth. "Some things don't change. I doubt that'd work again though." He could feel the reverberations in the mesh of reality, the bundle of lies that people told themselves to perceive their world in a manner that was more in line with their survival at heart.

Though, Cornelius tilted his head skyward and resumed his walk, reality was both firmer and weaker here simultaneously, it was an odd feeling to see the seams and watch them reorient in real time…

March, 1997 – Sunnydale, California

Cornelius didn't celebrate the holidays that modernity recognized but he welcomed snow. Or he would have if it would snow in this god forsaken town. Granted, it was a bit late into the year already for there to be snow anymore. Instead he sat in his home staring outside from behind his curtains holding a small ceramic tea cup saucer included, it was real 'china', fragile blue patterns included. The teacup steamed happily as he viewed the neighborhood. The viewing was fairly boring as an affair, a few people coming and going, but nothing noticeable at first.

He hadn't run into any other things that bumped in the night. He held a thin hope that they'd heard of that lout's death and had decided that one old man wasn't worth the meal. One of his bushy eyebrows made its way skyward as he watched a car pull up just a bit up the road from his car and three people jumped out. A slightly older woman and two young girls. He closed the curtains, he wasn't that sort of person.

Instead, Cornelius quaffed his tea down in a single go, groaned at the heat of it, and stood up from his chair.

That's when another shiver ran down his spine and he felt an odd compulsion, the sort he hadn't in hundreds of years.

A few hours later, he was holding a small pie and in front of his new neighbor's door… "What in the hell have I gotten myself into this time?" Cornelius thought as he knocked, a light sound. He'd let the visage of an old man fade, his beard was still there but it was well groomed, short and black with streaks of gray, as was his hair, which was close to his crown.

"Oh, hello," a rather pretty woman with blond hair answered.

"Hello! I'm one of your neighbors, Charles Andrews, figured I'd be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood. I realize this a little old fashioned and I apologize for intruding." Cornelius introduced himself by his current identity with the slightest of bows, the incline of his head.

"Oh, oh! Thank you! I'm Joyce, Joyce Summers; glad to make your acquaintance, mister Andrews. We're still unpacking but thank you for the warm welcome." The woman, Joyce, responded with a smile as she accepted the offered pie.

It was a bit old fashioned, she thought, but 'Charles' didn't look like the threatening sort, and God knew she had enough weirdness regarding her own household that she wouldn't judge another. "I hate to chase you away when you've been so nice but we really do need to unpack and it's just the three of us." Joyce smiled kindly and the man bowed.

"Oh, I understand completely, have a lovely evening, Miss Summers." Cornelius bowed his head a little more and stepped away with a friendly wave toward the closing door and headed back to his home. He had no idea what he'd just done as he stepped into his house, just that he felt the urge to do it… His door closed silently behind him with a flick and he resumed his sitting, sorely missing his tea and wondering what in the hell just happened...