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[servessithis]

It wasn't unusual for Dark Sibling to be gone from their Sanctuary for a long time. Many had their own houses in different cities and only came to their Sanctuary to pick up contracts, get paid for said contracts, or just rest and spend time with their Siblings. However, the most recent Brother's absense was not boding well with Vicente. He had nowhere else to go and was a Skooma addict. He had a good feeling what the young Argonian had spent his reward on. The vampire had given Archren enough time off, and he needed to come home now. Even if the vampire had to go all the way to Bravil.

Once the sun had set, he donned a travelling cloak, so he could conceal his face, and slid up the well to the city. He stuck to the shadows, avoiding people and guards. Luckily most of the townspeople were in bed.

Fortunatly, the vampire did not have far to look after all. As he was about to reach the large city doors, he saw a copper body lying on the shore of the creek. So, the boy had dragged himself back to town. At least he did not have to risk travelling until daylight after all.

The vampire slowly approached the young Argonian, knelt down next to him, and placed long, pale fingers on the boy's arm.

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[copperscales.livejournal.com]

Now that he had received payment for his last contract, in Archrenn's small world, there was nothing else to do but spend the majority of his coin on Skooma. And so it came to be that the Argonian spent the last few days in high spirits, albeit quite unaware of his surroundings. The euphoria he felt after drinking the Skooma was the best feeling in the world, as far as he was concerned, but the slow crash afterwards was something he could gladly do without. Of course, it make the next hit somewhat stronger, but what could he do? He couldn't withdraw from his addiction: it'd probably kill him, in one way or another.

Some time after he had finished the last of his small supply, he'd aimlessly wandered the back streets of Cheydinhal, occasionaly stopping for an hour or so, engrossed in some small thing; a beetle, his reflection in a puddle, and so on. Once or twice he came close to approaching a civilian, but before he could do or say anything, he'd veer away and disappear behind a house.

At the moment, he was laying on his side, half-curled, on the creek's bank, close to the town's perimiter wall. He had found that his reflection here, in the creek, was better than what he'd seen earlier, and so he had become fixated on it. The clear liquid that stole his reflection was surprisingly cool to the touch, but he wondered why it stole his face. Soon enough, he lost interest in that fact, dozing off and collapsing onto his side.

Unaware of a cloaked figure approaching him from behind, Archrenn slowly woke up; much of the Skooma had worn off by now, but his vision was still incredibily sharp, and his movements was still sluggish. He tried to sit up, but upon feeling something touch his arm, the worst vision entered his mind, and he spun round to face his so-called assailant. However, he only imagined it. His speed, that is. The Argonian slowly rolled over, not so much as spun round, and slid down the creek's bank. He imagined that he was fully alert, with his usual quick reflexes, but that was far from the truth. The young Argonian tilted his head back so as to get a better look at whatever 'grabbed' him, but instead of seeing Vicente, he saw someone else, who could only exist in his mind.

Raising his right arm and reaching for the dagger sheathed at his side, Archrenn hissed at the cloaked creature, in the hopes of warding it off. He misjudged the distance, though, and ended up grabbing thin air, not the dagger.

"Sssss'yoouu, again...!?" With his fangs bared, he went on to hiss a few curse words, in the Argonian language of clicks and growls, the worst ones he could recall in his current state.

[servessithis.livejournal.com]

Vicente saw this coming. The boy was on Skooma. Even if his reflexes were not dulled by the drug, the vampire still had the superior reflexes and skills.

The vampire walked down to the bank and once again grabbed the Argonian, pulling him up from the mud. This time he grabbed both the younger assassin's arms, keeping a firm grip on him.

"Do not draw attention to us," Vicente hissed. Letting go of the arm not gripping the dagger, the vampire pressed his palm to the Argonian's head and cast a Calm spell.