Akhenaten, headphones firmly in place and blasting a high energy song into his mind, made his way back to his crypt. He grinned as he thought of the evening. It had started out chatting with Akila, and Akhenaten realized how it was quickly becoming part of his every night routine, and then realized that he didn’t mind the idea at all. In fact he was finding that he rather enjoyed the fact that there was no pressure of any kind between the two of them; they knew what they were, so there was no need to lie with every sentence, and she was dead, taken, and working. Yes, he found her familiar features attractive; he wasn’t blind, and yes, she found him attractive, for neither was was she, but there was no need or drive between them to pursue anything by it. Akhenaten /did/ wonder what her Mistress was like, what she looked like.. Akhenaten found himself grinning at the thought.
After chatting with Akila, and agreeing to meet when she was off work to talk about the mysterious ‘S’, Akhenaten had been fairly accosted by Callia. Not that he minded; this was another beautiful kindred, and this one there certainly /was/ sexual tension with. She had walked right up, and bold as anything, kissed him right on the lips. Akhenaten admitted to himself that her forwardness, the fact that she had grabbed him like a predator and asserted her /want/ of him, had almost left him lightheaded. He had felt himself willing to chase after her if need be, until she asked him if he wanted a drink. When he realized she meant blood, he could have sworn his knees went weak, thinking she meant the two of them would hunt together, truly /hunt/. Then she had calmly walked over to Akila and ordered two dolls to be brought to us, like ordering any mundane drink. The convenience amused him, but left him with the sour taste of boredom and disappointment in his mouth. He had left Callia to her meal, his head back to it’s normal weight, and his knees firmly planted once more. As he walked home, now, he felt more than a little silly at how easily the /very/ young woman had spun him.
Then he had almost approached Jennifer, before realizing she belonged to another. Akhenaten was no thief, but he was starting to think every single patron of Eventide was inhuman in some way!
And then there was Elza, beautiful Elza, with her green flowing hair. No man in the bar that night was granted more than a few seconds of her time, her scoffing, and fairly sneering, them away. Here was a cure for the boredom the blood dolls had induced, for the frustration that was building in him; a mighty challenge! Even rejection by such a self-assured, commanding girl, would be make the night worth it. He had approached, had been allowed to buy her a drink, had been granted her name, everything was going wonderfully, and he was sure she was about to say ‘yes’ to him asking for a dance, when Jennifer very unsubtly shoved a note into his pocket. Akhenaten could see now that it was foolish to open it so that Elza could see, but she had looked so curious, and he had wanted to give her what she wanted. A dampyr. Akhenaten couldn’t help but laugh, because of /course/ she was a dampyr, of /course/ she wasn’t mortal, not with the way /his/ night was going. He decided he didn’t care, though, and was ready to accept this new truth about the beautiful girl, but she didn’t seem to believe it herself. She left, he followed, and she was.. crying. Not what he expected… a girl like this, she should get angry, she should blame him for ruining her night, but crying? Akhenaten had sighed inwardly as he realized he had been projecting a personality onto Elza that wasn’t hers. She was still more interesting then most anyone he had met since being unstaked, though, especially if she did turn out to be part dampyr (Akhenaten always looked forward to studying a new species), so he had talked with her, had gotten her to stop crying, and was rewarded with a smile and her saying she’d like to see him again.
As Akhenaten closed the door to his crypt behind him, he wondered that his entire night was summed up by thinking about the different girls and young women he had interacted with. When he looked into his bedroom, however, his grin faded as he saw the figurine of his queen, sitting on her throne, and him, a smaller figure, carved to sit beside and below her. He sighed, realizing once again the reason his nights were filled with numerous women, as the weight settled more firmly onto his shoulders, and the emptiness.. the only words he could give was that it surrounded him from the inside.
Akhenaten knelt before his shrine and lit some incense, looking down with shame as he realized he no longer knew the proper words of honor. He muddled through it as best he could before getting up, laying in his sarcophagus, closing the lid, and turning the music on the woman’s device up as loud as it would go while he waited for the day sleep to take him.