[centre][color=50565A]𝗪𝗢𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗞 𝗪𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗡[/color]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/zXPyoAL.png[/img]
[sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/gGlhwd0.png[/img][/sup][/centre][right][sup]Mentions of a young dhampire in Edgetoun. [@Undine][/sup][/right][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3feE0RCLsw][color=50565A]♪♪[/color][/url][/center]
[indent]The hustle and bustle of Düsseldorf International Airport rang out loud around the hypersensitive dhampire and his companion. There were hundreds of people conversing with each other and rushing to make their flights, the beeps of machinery at the security gates, the hiss of the sandwich press at one of the airport’s many eateries, and countless other sounds. They were surrounded by endless noise, yet it still felt like they were the only two people in the room. Wolfrik stared at his childhood pal, ex-girlfriend, best friend, and the person that knew him the most in the world aside from his late mother.

Most people would describe Monika as a handsome woman, she was not searingly sexy the usual standards, yet she was drop dead gorgeous to Wolfrik. Her appearance was pretty, and her heart was [i]beautiful[/i]. Wolfie studied the brunette’s face, knowing her expressions well enough to recognize the worried crease between her eyebrows and shiny glint in her honey-brown eyes for what they were. She was upset, anxious, and forlorn. It broke his heart that he was the reason for that countenance… again. Goodbyes were hard, far too hard.

[b]“Do you hate me, Mon?”[/b] Wolfrik asked quietly in their native language. She should hate him. This would be easier, if she did. He deserved it, if she did. Wolfrik let himself succumb to his pain, both emotional and physical, and he dove into drugs and alcohol as a coping mechanism. His vices drove a wedge between them, ending their relationship, but thankfully not their friendship as well. He didn’t blame her for it, she deserved so much more than the love of half a man.

The crease deepened as Monika’s eyebrows stitched together. For a moment, she looked livid, and then the expression fell away into a chuckle. [i]“I could never hate you, Wolf, you stupid fuck.”[/i] The corner of her mouth pulled up in the faintest shadow of a smile. She closed the distance between them to rest her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. [i]“You need to get better, and staying here isn’t going to help you. My Wolfie has always done best when he has determination in his heart, and for the first time in a long while, I see that fire in your eyes again. This is the closest you’ve come to knowing your father. I hope he is what you need.”[/i]

Wolfrik chewed at his lip and struggled to make eye contact. If only she knew the depth of his despair. He wasn’t just a grief-stricken addict… he was dying. There wasn’t any way to get better. From what he had read online, dhampirism only ever got worse. But, she couldn’t know that. In the end, it would be best for him to leave this place and let her move on with her healthy, human life. Like father, like son, right? At least he was saying goodbye first, that’s more than this mysterious Loki ever gave his mother. [b]“ I hope so too.”[/b] Wolfrik said with a heavy sigh. [b]“Mom loved him, and she had the best judge of character of anyone I know… so, he must not be that bad. Right?”[/b]

Monika pursed her lips together and shrugged. [i]“Hopefully not…”[/i] She moved the hand that was resting on his arm to stroke his cheek in an almost maternal gesture. [i]“But he did leave her without a word, so, guard your heart around him. I know you want to know your father, but it might be best to keep some walls up for a while. Protect yourself. You might look like a real hard punk, but you’re soft as flower petals underneath that leather.”[/i] Monika smirked and lowered her hand to punch at his leather jacket-clad chest gently. [i]“Hurry along now, or you’ll miss your plane.”[/i]

Wolfie nodded in understanding of everything she had just said. Mon might not have the full picture — like the fact that his father likely peaced out because he was a vampire — but her words were no less wise. Without any more conversation, for risk of being overcome with emotion and not being able to speak clearly, Wolfrik pulled her into an embrace. His frame was so gaunt that she was practically hugging herself when her arms wrapped around him. He never used to be so thin. Wolf pulled away after a few moments of silent embrace, and then pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. [b]“It’s a one-way ticket, Mon. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Promise me you won’t wait up… please live your life.”[/b]

[i]“It’s just a plane ride, Wolf. Don’t be so gloomy and final about it.”[/i] She responded with a light laugh. It sounded as hollowed out as he felt. With that, the pair parted ways and Wolfrik became one of the many passengers rushing down the terminal to make their plane in time. Wolf boarded flight 2486 from DUS to LCY without a second to spare. Monika was right, he almost missed the flight entirely. Monika was usually right.

He had purchased one of the cheapest tickets available, so Wolf was seated along the aisle with the least amount of legroom known to man. Wolfrik was rather tall, so the latter was particularly unfortunate. That said, he didn’t care all that much. Wolfrik had far too much on his mind to care for something as trivial as physical comfort, that was always hard to come by these days anyway, especially while sober. 

Wolf pulled a book out of his carry on bag and flipped it open. For all intents and purposes, the book functioned as a journal. All of the pages were dated, some of them bore passing thoughts or short paragraphs of prose, but most held sketches. Wolfrik was always much better at speaking his mind through his artwork than he was with words. Tucked into the entry for the current day was a loose page from the sketchbook of another artist. It was his mother’s drawing, the one he’d used to track down the identity of his father after she had passed. Wolf ran his thumb along the paper reverently, pondering on what kind of man his father might be. His thoughts were interrupted by the words of a blonde flight attendant asking if she could get him a drink. He ordered whiskey, like a proper day-drinking dhampire ought to.

The flight from Germany to the London City Airport was rather short, just a touch over one hour long. It was just enough time for Wolfrik to have a second shot of whiskey to take the edge off of his nerves. He wasn’t actually meeting Loki yet, he’d planned some time for himself to relax before that moment, but he was nervous all the same. When the plane landed, Wolfrik filed out after the other passengers heading towards the baggage claim. He gathered his single, overstuffed suitcase, his acoustic guitar, and the carry on backpack he wore onto the flight, and he headed out of the airport.

Wolfrik caught a taxi to the borough of Edgetoun. What an apt name for a town that he may or may not meet his vampiric father in. He informed the driver that he was headed to the Sibley Hotel, and the man nodded in understanding. That was pretty much the [i]only[/i] hotel in Edgetoun, after all. Wolfrik’s ride and arrival at the hotel was uneventful, he tipped the cabbie well and waved as he pulled away. The receptionist at the hotel was a slightly overweight, grumpy looking woman named Regina. She handed him his room key and a piece of paper with a password on it, informing him that the wifi was complimentary.

Unpacking his suitcases first seemed like the most appropriate thing to do if Wolfrik was to be staying here for a while. If all went well, he’d live with his father and try to get to know him a little better. If it went poorly, perhaps he would find a flat to share instead, as living out of a hotel for more than a few days wasn’t financially realistic. If it went abysmally… he’d spend the rest of his savings to fly back to Düsseldorf and try to put this whole pipe dream behind him. He hoped it wasn’t a pipe dream, though. 

For the first time in a long time, Wolfrik felt hopeful, and he had a single dhampire to thank for that. If not for the keen eye of an Edgetoun resident browsing the same dhampire support website as him, Wolfie would not be here today. He would still be off chasing dead end trails in Germany instead of sitting on a fluffy hotel bed in the same town as his birth father. He needed to thank this stranger somehow. Leaning back on the bed, Wolfrik pulled out his phone and typed in the free wifi password the receptionist had given him. He opened up the website where he had met Laurel, and selected the option to reply to their direct message thread. Chewing his lip for a few moments to carefully plan his words, Wolf tapped out a message.

[code]Hey,

This might be a bit random, but I bought a ticket to Edgetoun to meet my father. I haven’t met him yet, I only just arrived. It’s a lot tougher than I expected it to be. I’m staying at the Sibley Hotel, in case you would like to meet up. I’ve never actually met someone else like me before. If you don’t want to, though, I totally understand your desire for privacy. Thank you for your help, I don't know how to repay aside from offering to get you lunch.
— Wolfrik[/code]

Wolf hit send on the message and let out the long breath that he had been holding. He stared up at the ceiling for some time before deciding that he needed another drink, and got up to dig into the stash of bottles in the hotel room mini fridge to quench that thirst. Breaking the non-smoking policy of the room, he also lit up a hand rolled cigarette. Whether or not it was laced with something more than tobacco was his own business. Getting high on his first day in town was his prerogative, if he so wished.[/indent]