[center][h1][color=0072bc]Joryldin Nailo[/color][/h1]
[sub]Interacting with: [color=f7941d]Dakota Brookes[/color] [@WeepingLiberty][/sub][/center]

Sleep was... difficult. Jorldin wasn't used to the downright wonderful accommodations that the Nolia academy provided. While it's true he had a good home for the past 8 years, the young man had never shook his habit of living as simply as possible. When he was alone on the streets, it was a matter of necessity. When he was given a home, it was a matter of personal preference. After becoming a vampire, it was a matter of the heart. In the midst of living under the heel of the undead, modest living felt like an innately human thing to him, it brought Joryldin comfort. Luxury made what was left of his stomach churn, and the heavenly queen-sized bed he was provided with did nothing to help.

Just like almost every day since he was turned, nightmares plagued Joryldin's slumber. They always started the same, with himself as an orphan cowering in some dark alley as figures run past, silhouetted by the moonlight. He was always cold, hungry, and alone, but never scared. He had a knife, and nothing to lose. No animal fights with greater fury and viciousness than when it's cornered, and that's what he was to them, right? Nothing more than a wild animal? Usually the nightmares ended just as he was found, but tonight was different. A man stood in the threshold of the alley, and two glowing red eyes pierced the night. As a car meandered its way past, the headlights revealed the face of the threat. 

The vampire in question was unmistakably Joryldin himself.

Though something was wrong, there was a madness in his face that went beyond words. A psychotic smile that only shows itself in the most broken men. The vampire's voice was different. Calm, confident, smooth... Nothing like his usual tone.

"[color=9e0b0f]What are you still doing here?[/color]"
The horrid caricature of himself stepped forward, looming over what he used to be.
"[color=9e0b0f]It's too late now, you're one of them. Why keep fighting it? It won't amount to any good. We're all slaves to their great machine, nothing will ever change that.[/color]"
Hugging his dagger like a stuffed animal, Joryldin shook his head. Tears began welling in his eyes.
"[color=6ecff6]You're w-wrong... It's just that everybody g-gave up instead of trying.[/color]"
The vampire's grin shone bright in that dark alley. His fangs sparkled.
"[color=9e0b0f]Because unlike you, they knew better.[/color]"
It took a step back and spread its arms wide.
"[color=9e0b0f]You either join, submit, or die. Be grateful they gave you the mercy of the first choice, and enjoy it.[/color]"

With that final message, the dream ended. Joryldin bolted upright in his bed, gasping for air, only to dump himself back onto the mattress as he processed everything... He'd spent his whole life struggling against the tide and trying to stay afloat, cursing the sharks who swam with it gladly and devoured those who drowned. Finding himself a shark now, returning to land was made impossible. If he struggled against his new nature, he would starve and the others would tear apart what was left. Joryldin couldn't stomach the idea of sinking so low as to be the monster in his nightmare, submitting to the order of vampiric life and lording himself over those blessed to still be alive. Right then and there, he made a resolution: If he couldn't fight the tide, he would keep others afloat. Nolia was a place where the living and the undead were supposed to come together in harmony, and he would do whatever he could to embody that vision.

Joryldin got out of his bed. The rich sheets were making him sick. He quickly opened his phone and checked the time. 7:30 PM. He needed to get ready for orientation, but the sun was still just barely out. A long shower served to pass the time, but the thinking time only brought more of the same...

He got dressed, grabbed his things and was pretty much ready for the day, but then the hunger hit him. The chalice Joryldin downed the previous night was more than he would normally allow himself in a week, and it was delicious. After being starved on and off for a month, his body craved more, and Joryldin couldn't risk using up the few vials he brought. With no other option, he opened up his phone and texted his roommate.

"[color=0072bc]Good mo-[/color]" No, he hadn't woken up in the morning for weeks now... But saying "good evening" to somebody who just woke up sounded dumb. He cleared the message and simply asked,

"[color=0072bc]Is it safe to come out yet? I'm all packed for the day but I kinda need your help with something before we head out...[/color]"