Another day in the glorious city that resides in the darkness, the lamps lit a dull yellow, hundreds of them, thousands covered the entire city like small starts filling in the blanks spots of the night sky. It was needed for those who did not have the gift to see in the black embrace of darkness; Alexander on the other hand had been sitting on his windowsill, his right knee bend so his chin could rest on his knee whilst his left lazily swayed back and forth. His complexion like all pure bloods resided in a sickly pale with gentle vein lines that streamed lifeless blood around his small body, the body of a young man, a teenager well dressed in fine clothing that could be related to the families of old.<br/><br/>His white hair stayed in an unkempt mess until the servants would arrive and that wasnâ€™t for another ten minutes; however he knew enough to cover his complexion with white powder and seem to have a normal skin tone of pale white. It was unseemly even in the Vampire world to look â€œoddâ€ and out of place, standards were set and those who followed were kept within societies business and talks of the city. Those eyes, blood stained eyes that kept an ever watchful eye, such eyes would scare most who angered him, but these were different, more questionable than anger.<br/><br/>â€œYet another day in fair Veronaâ€ his scepticism did him no credit when referring to the city he was born in, Alexander removed himself from his seating with a small hop off the window and back onto the oaken floor that sounded the young master awake. His bedroom was littered with fine antiquities of lost ages; a shimmering gloss of sunset wall paper decorated his room with the artisan of angelic pictures watched over the room from the ceiling. A large king sized bed sat at the other end of the room with oaken support and a large look-to-be-expensive quilt and sheet to follow, a dresser and cupboard sat on the side of the wall whilst the window resided to the left, the door to the young masters room stood opposite the best to welcome to master to another glorious day, one he did not care for.<br/><br/>A yawn escaped Alexanderâ€™s pressed lips revealing the well known site of sharp canines, these in particular were sharp as blades due to the amount of times Alexander fed with his fangs which was not often, the goblet was more of a dinner host than the neck of a human or petty animal, this isnâ€™t to say the young man wasnâ€™t a hunter, it simply meant he chose not too.