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[color=7FFFD4][b]Location:[/b][/color] Washington Square
[color=7FFFD4][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color]No one at the moment[/center]
The day had been dragging on slowly for Milo. He woke up early in the morning with a quiet yelp, the nightmares that haunted his dreams visited him on a daily now. They used to only come around the anniversary of those special events, but now his death is on a constant loop within his mind, the years he spent drowned in blood prance around his reticular activating system, and the faces of each person he killed live behind his eyelids. Milo knows that he still has a problem when it comes down to feeding but its not as bad as it was before he came to America. The only reason he came was because of his “father”, and ironically it was his old man who tried to educate him on the finer points of death and killing. Milo never really took the things the elder  said to heart, he knew the old man had one two many screws loose and need some help but that was still the man who helped him in his time of need and the boy would forever be grateful for that.   

Thanks to that same man he lived in a lovely home, in the suburban area of Salem, that had a lot of history. Mathias left it to Milo, saying it belonged to a “good friend” and Milo was honored to receive such a gift. He has been living here for the past 2 years in peace, running around with George (his coven leader) and some for the other young vampires in his coven. There were 5 of them, all under the age of 120, and they looked out for one another.  Milo has traveled a lot and seen many different [i]kinds[/i] of people, and the only safely offered was by the elder he claimed loyalty too. Especially in the vampire society, age seemed to be a powerful thing, age was something that demanded respect, age is what makes or breaks you in the long run when it comes down to your fellow vampire (at least in Milo’s eyes). 

For example, the first time Milo met George and told him his age, George immediately treated Mmilo as if he was some second rate citizen who didn’t pay taxes and then went on to assume the boy would join his little gang.  Now Milo did end up in his little group but the boy was never shy to remind them of their differences, Milo told George that he could and would kill them if it came down to it, and George respected that. George was one of the few who saw Milo for what he truly was, not a young vampire still high off the thought of immortality, no Milo was a 90 year old vampire who was trapped neck deep in his own vices. Milo was a young vampire who had done, seen, and experienced more than George could even fathom in his 120 years of existence. Milo was his ally, not his friend, Milo was a member of his coven, not his sworn blood brother, and if he deemed it necessary, Milo would kill him. 

Milo’s demeanor, his actions, thought process, all stems back to one of the men who haunts his thoughts, Mathias. The young one can deny Mathias all he wants, but those who catch the other side of him or even stare into his eyes for too long, can clearly see the Elder vampire. It was this very man, among many, that haunted his thoughts and stretched out his day. It was visions of his old master that caused him to not sleep and simply drink away what blood he had left in reserves before getting ready for the celebration that night. George had asked Milo to help out at their booth, what it was for Milo did not know nor did he care, fresh blood would be in the streets and it was a rare opportunity to be able to hunt with little chance of getting caught.[hr]

The sun was set by the time arrived and took up his position at the “Blood Drive” booth. Hs “friends”, thought it would be a good inside joke, and maybe pick up some willing donors along the way.  Milo had been playing his part well, wearing the mask of friend and a young boy all throughout the night. On the side he had been sizing up good victims and trying to avoid George’s stare, the older vampire knew what he was doing, he knew all about Milo’s “habits” and had voiced his displeasure more than once. Milo was not in the mood for another lecture, the night was young, moon was out and food was practically giving itself away on two legs he just wanted to enjoy himself tonight. 

He took note of all the other supernaturals attending, it was in the feeling a person gave off. Some were warmer than others, while some would send chills down his spine, Milo learned early on that only the trained could identify who was what.  But there was something was in the air, it promised an eventful night and no matter how much Milo thought about it he could not decipher what the dread was, or who it was coming from. 

I happened slow, like a sandstorm in the distance.  The first scream, then screams, the running, then the toppling, the smell of blood that turned into a permeating odor. Wolfs had began to attack, it started with a single girls cry for help, but now she was in the middle of the square with three other women. Milo was at the booth with George, they both watched frozen in shock as the girl screamed over and over, it was the wolf’s snarl that brought them back to reality. Milo and George dashed to the center of the square as the man on stage began to speak about offering “answers” at the church. He and George had no idea where the other 3 had gone off too, and by the grim look on George’s face Milo could only assume the worst. 

[color=7FFFD4]“You know they are probably dead right. I mean look around, they probably wandered off to feed of some helpless girl and ended up getting mauled by the wolves.”[/color] Milo said letting his true colors show for a moment and his french accent come in thick, he felt like it was appropriate considering the circumstances.

“Of course I know it's a possibility, but they are one of us and I trust in their skills. Plus they still have us if all else fails.” George said with a slimmer of hope in his voice and a fierce fire brewing in his eyes. Milo only responded with a shrug and looked away at the flashing lights and running figures around him. The sound gunshots still echoed off the building and people screaming rang out here and there, all the while Milo could only sigh and think about how fucked this night was. He crouched down and let out a frustrated sigh, mumbling [color=7FFFD4]"Enfoncer l'enfant"[/color] under his breath with a shake of his head. 

[center][color=7FFFD4][i]”Flick...flick...flick”[/i][/color][/center]
Milo’s lighter sounded out back and forth, it was not much over the noise but to the keen of hearing it would be quite annoying. Milo was frustrated and at the moment this was the only thing he could do to sate it. He was trapped at the moment with a hopeful fool who looked as if he wanted to run out into that madness and take Milo with him. All Milo wanted to do was drink, and go home, but now he had to settle for finding a way to put out that glimmer of hope in George’s heart.