The ordeal with the kingdoms and the false kings was over. The unconscious students and horsemen had awakened, and Alexander could only assume that the hunters had as well. He knew that they had been there, if only because of one in particular that had been a part of Mort's kingdom of Green, the land of Om and creation. As much as Alexander tried to forget that any of it had ever happened, as much as he wanted to shove out any and all memories that lingered of that dhampire thief, it was all but impossible.
Those memories were a part of him, now, false or not. He would just have to accept it, move on, and hope that over time they would eventually fade, or play out in his mind more like a movie then a reality, as though he had just been an actor, acting out his part. That would really just be for the best.
But unlife, as it were, went on. He was an initiate, and as such, he had tasks to fulfill for the horsemen. One of those tasks, and the one he seemed to find himself on the most often, was to patrol the haunted house, and to collect Fear from any humans, or more then likely hunters, that he came across.
It was not like his last stint in the haunted house, when he had gone on his own, looking for trouble. No, that Alex had been distraught, and devastated by events that were out of his control. He had just wanted to exact revenge on those who had altered his unlife so severely, and that need had consumed him back then.
Now was different. Now he proceeded with more caution. Now he only collected what he could safely handle before returning to the clans lair. He still hated hunters with every fiber of his being, down to the very pits of his Fear core, but he didn't throw himself at them in reckless, self destructive behavior.
As he patrolled the halls, it was a sound that finally caught his attention. The sound of a door swinging open, the hinges creaking. He turned towards the sound, skeletal foot scraping lightly against the floor with every step he took, and he reminded himself to at least put a sock on it next time, to muffle the noise. When he came to a door, near where he thought the noise had come from, he stopped, then very carefully drew it open, the sight that greeted him odd, when he first took in the mattresses, the padding that encompassed everything and then slightly distressing when he took it who was laying down in the middle of it all.
With an exasperated sound, he sighed. Really? REALLY? He didn't even care if she heard him when he threw the door open wide and let it slam into the wall with a loud "bang!". He really just didn't give two minipet shits about her.
But he didn't go rushing in on the attack, either.
"Hello, Ofelia." His voice was low, and his eyes, a mis matched pair of pale grey and vibrant yet dark red, glowered at her from where he stood. "How have you been?"
Like he cared.
