Welcome to Gaia! ::

Rourke took two steps then he was off at a run as well. He followed the scenes flashing by easily, dodging gracefully around whatever stood in his path. He picked up snatches of conversations about dinner and work and who was sleeping with whom; they held little to no interest to him. On a whim he paused, a brief hitch in his stride to whisper nonsense in the ears of those he passed, evidence of Alastar’s influence. He enjoyed the look of confusion on their plain mortal faces, were they wondering if they were hearing things? Which of them sees this as confirmation of the voices they’ve been hearing? A low chuckle rumbled up from his chest, two late night joggers searched around in wonder at the sound when he passed.

“Pops?” Rourke spoke softly but he knew Alastar would hear, “Funny how you’re running around dressed like your ‘Pops’ though.” It took no time and little effort to catch up with Alette. He ran a circle around her once, playfully before stopping near an aged stand of garbage masquerading as an apartment building. He leaned gracefully against it, the rough, crumbling brick digging into his back, arms folded across the wide expanse of his chest and crossed his legs at the ankles. In the shadows created by the corner of the building and a nearby street lamp, he waited for his wife. A marble angel.

Rourke knew Alastar had gone ahead. Immediately he thought his brother was up to something.

Rourke’s hair - blown backward from the wind and his run - fell forward now in a dark curtain, concealing him further from those passing by. He had been following the scents of both his brother and wife when the former’s trail had suddenly become erratic. Rourke would have had little trouble following it, being acquainted with the eccentric vampire so long and all that, but he had taken it as a signal instead. That Alastar didn’t want to tailed.

Curiosity and his need to protect now spiked, Rourke had taken a deeper stock of the scents floating around him and he had found it. Concentrating he was able to pick up where Alastar’s trail deviated and the scent of the other that it met up with and overlapped.

A very familiar scent.

Rourke felt the vibrations begin low in his stomach, traveling up and out to the tips of his fingers, toes and hair. If he were not so a**l a creature about being in control, the decrepit edifice behind him would have turned to finely pressed powder. He let his head roll back onto the building, massaged the back of his neck with long, thin fingers. He stood there a moment wondering if Alastar did this to him on purpose. To irk him and watch him squirm like an ant under a magnifying glass on a nice, sunny day.

Now was not the time to be fraternizing with the enemy, though Rourke could think of a much worse one. Their day was drawing closer, he’d have to sit down with Alette and Alastar soon so they’d have something to tell the rest of their family. The mutts would be on guard twenty-four-seven, expecting an attack.

How he wished this would all go away.

“It seems neither Cinderella or cavewomen were very fast and apparently you’ve done little improve on that fact, Alette dear.” Rourke’s playful provoking carried through the still air. His hand was open, palm up, an open invitation for his wife, “What would Brother have to say of your inability to keep up? Will we have to get you a cane?”

Rourke watched through half open eyes those that walked by, oblivious to his presence and even more unaware of the danger. He could feel each heartbeat as they strolled casually by, easily picture the blood pumping through their veins. It would have been no hardship to pluck anyone of them from the crowd, so engrossed were they in their inconsequential lives. He preferred the blood of those with a muted strength of character and being, he was too distracted however to follow any potential meal.