<div style="margin: auto; max-width:600px; height: 500px; background-color: #000; background:box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; box-shadow:2px 2px 1px #ddd; margin-top: 10px;margin-bottom:10px;"><br/>
<div style="margin: auto; height:500px; max-width: 600px;background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b4/d8/ca/b4d8ca569f354b2b016eaccce1e350f5.jpg);background-size: cover;background-position: center; font-size: 0px; filter: contrast(100%); mix-blend-mode: screen; opacity: 60%; margin-top: -20px; filter: grayscale(40%);border-radius: 15px;">.</div><div style="margin: auto; height:500px; max-width: 600px;background-image: url(https://64.media.tumblr.com/3c4cfe3f49658c62a8178c9bba7683f1/cee01a2748ea1b29-30/s400x600/69e8d140c0e25ca5190b816c57f4e9f72a8d0fde.gif);background-size: cover;background-position: center; font-size: 0px; filter: contrast(100%); mix-blend-mode: screen; opacity: 20%; margin-top: -500px; filter: grayscale(100%);border-radius: 15px;">.</div><div style="margin: auto; height:230px; max-width: 130px;background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/XQw1Rb8.png);background-size: cover;background-position: center; font-size: 0px; filter: contrast(100%); mix-blend-mode: screen;; opacity: 100%; margin-top: -370px; filter: grayscale(0%);border-radius: 0px; margin-left:-10px">.</div><div style="margin:auto; background: #fffffff; margin-top: -200px; margin-bottom: 0px; max-width: 505px; line-height: 140%; font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: times; text-align: justify; color: #fff; height: 170px; overflow: auto; text-shadow: 5px #000 5px #000 5px #000; padding: 5px;position: absolute;margin-left:70px;"> <div style="margin: auto; height: 50px; width: 50px; border-radius: 100%; float: left;  box-shadow: 2px 2px 2px 2px #fff; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/Gl9p58h.gif); ;filter: contrast(100%);filter: grayscale(100%); background-size: cover; background-position: center; font-size: 0px; margin-left:10px; margin-right:5px;">.</div>A temporary truce. Julius was set to return to New York in six months and see just how things were going. The Emergence had come sooner for the vampires on the east coast and as big a city New York was . . . it was no wonder that things got a bit crazy too fast. The introduction of the synthetic blood Vitale had been just the push needed for vampires to feel that it was completely fine for them to reveal themselves to the public. However, it didn't answer all of their problems. There were still plenty of vampires, too many to count, like himself who were set in their old ways. Nothing could compare to the taste of fresh blood. That said, Julius had no intentions of counting it out completely and he would do what he could to make sure that even if vampires chose to go about their more traditional ways of feeding . . .they should be prepared for the consequences that came with it. Not every human was going to lie down and take the bite without a fight.<br/>
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That's what he was dealing with in Queens. A small band of humans who were vehemently against the idea of <i>coexisting</i> had taken to arming themselves with weapons. Man, against vampire . . . more blood spilled than necessary. Considering the improvements, he had already made to the South, the monarch had something to show for when offering to clean up the city's mess. For that, it would require that both sides do their due diligence. The attacks had gone down while he was there and that included setting buildings afire, where covens lay peacefully in their coffins, unsuspecting of their own deaths. It made him shiver in memory. Even the smell of wood burning made his upper lip lift in distaste.<br/>
<br/>
The vampire was already set on course for Bon Temps when he got Eve's call. He could sense the agitation in her raspy voice before she even begins to rattle off her dream. Had it been anyone else, he would be quick to call them crazy . . . thinking maybe something about synthetic blood somehow distorted the vampire's ability to think clearly. But this was Eve, a woman he had known since she was a young girl and by all means he considered her his daughter <i>by blood</i> as it was his tie and his blood that bought her new life. So, he didn't just chalk it up to Eve being worried about nothing. Was there something or someone after him? He wasn't so sure, but there had been this sense of dark energy surrounding him lately. It had caused him dread, a deep sense of depression that couldn't be filled, nor his lonely nights no matter who he got to fill his bed. She'd feel more comfortable with him being back in Louisiana, just until she felt things had gone back to normal. And if not . . .that there was someone in Bon Temps she believed could help.<br/>
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<div style="text-align: center">_____________<br/>
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<br/>​</div>The 1967 Chevy Impala came to a slow crawl in front of Merlotte's, kicking up a bit of dust in the process. He couldn't tell if it was a particular special night which was why it was busy, or possibly the fact it was one of the oldest restaurants still true to its roots, from the owner to the food. Julius wasn't here to eat, at least that wasn't his main concern. A short blonde woman eyed him hungrily as the black Doc Martens touched ground and he exited the car. The black denim jacket was abandoned in the front seat, leaving Julius in the short sleeve white shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Julius comforted by the warm night air. A small chuckle escaped as he overheard the girl arguing with her presumed boyfriend; there was often only one way or the other to feel about Julius. Either you were immediately infatuated, or you were terrified and often . . . people acted stupidly out of fear. It took one hard gaze of his dark amber eyes for the man to think otherwise just as Julius entered inside.<br/>
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The doors weren't made of steel or even the thickets wood, but somehow did a good job of keeping the boisterous and loud voices of different points of conversation from reaching outside. It was lively indoors, music playing from the spears . . .some country tune that he wouldn't wreck his mind trying to figure out. His height alone made him stand out, but he was sure the glow his pale skin gave off was another reason for the looks in his direction. It'd take a fool not to know immediately what he was, but he didn't put too much on the people for not knowing <i>who</i> he was.<br/>
<br/>
"Go on and seat yourself, menus on the table." The sweet twang was a breeze as a waitress with long black waves skirted past him, her hands filled with a tray of food. He chose a seat by the window, figuring being the center of attention would come too easy by selecting a table in the center of the room. Julius hands tapped against the menu, sticky with what he presumed was spilled coffee. He frowned, lifting his eyes upward to scan the room. He passed the judgmental glares, the panicked expressions as a family hurriedly waived for a check and a to go box. His hands pushed through the dark wavy strands of hair, managing to force them from rebelling back in his face. He was here for one thing: Gianna Broussard.<br/>
</div><div style="margin:auto; height:15px; max-width:400px; padding: 3px; margin-top: 150px; position: relative; background-color: #fffffff; ;font-size: 0px; border-radius: 5px;color:#a7332e; text-align: center; font-size: 8px; font-family: times; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; opacity: 45%;">code by promethean</div></div>