[i][center]Dracula's Castle - Year: 2008[/center]

"Viktor von Gesner...pleasure to meet you, Herr Thiddlestone." Viktor greeted politely, holding out a gloved hand to shake Maxwell's as he approached the two of them. His voice was different...unique, holding both courtesy and condescension at its disposal. He seemed civil enough, his posture and expression hospitable and kind, but he seemed to view Maxwell as...beneath him - though not offensively so. His icy blue eyes gazed into the aspiring architect's, seeming to size him up as a predator would its prey. 

"I apologize for any interruptions, my lord." Viktor said next, turning his attention to Lord Dracula's, crossing his arms behind his back. "It is not often that we receive visitors here. I felt obligated to meet one of our esteemed guests." He explained in that same tone, friendly, but unsettling. 

Remaining standing, Viktor once again turned his gaze back to Maxwell's. "Pray tell, Herr Thiddlestone, what brings you to this castle? Transylvania holds much history in its walls, and I would be *most* intrigued to hear what piqued *your* interest." Viktor asked, with a hint of curiosity to his voice. Though his expression didn't say so, he knew *exactly* why Lord Dracula had brought this young man to his castle. One of Dracula's 'chosen' - individuals who attracted him, whether it be by personality, wit, willpower, or aspiration. It would only be a matter of time before the young architect awoke with puncture wounds in his neck, and his human life faded from existence...only to awake again: better, *stronger*.

He remembered the day he was chosen...ninety years ago. When he, like Maxwell, came to Transylvania seeking something. In his own case, its history. He never would have believed that he would become a *part* of Transylvania's history, itself. For many years he remained the sole child, the eldest, merely him and his lord living in the vast castle that stood against the current for centuries. Then at the genesis of the 21st Century, a new child entered the fold: Renee Miller, and her own young daughter, Jane. 

Viktor felt a certain kinship with the young woman, something that spanned simply beyond sharing a household. She intrigued him, like a puzzling artifact or document. So he studied her, watching how she walked, how she spoke, how she acted. Would there be a youngest son added to the family? Someone *else* to watch, and to study? Viktor could feel a small smile tug at the corner of his lips at the prospect. Slowly but surely, the family was growing...rebuilding.[/i]