Athanasios was deep in meditation when the whispering voice spoke to him and his mouth widened into a toothy smile that showed off his long fangs. He rose slowly from his seated position on the floor and went over a quick mental checklist to be sure he had planned all that he could. Now was not the time for missteps, with council members dying it meant that was more true now than ever. Thoughts of the dead council members brought his mind back to the time when he had lost his own master. It was so long ago that it felt like an eternity and yet he could still feel the emotions of that moment flowing through his mind like he had the night it happened. Their minds focused so intently on their prey, the frustration of having been interrupted. The frantic battle for survival, the feeling of surprise and horror as he saw his master struck down by a mere human. The feeling of satisfaction when he felt his blade sink into the man's chest and pierce his heart in vengeance of his fallen master.<br/><br/>When his mind returned to the current he found that he had subconsciously placed his hand upon his dagger at his side, he could feel its hilt through his coat. That familiar weight he had felt so many times before, the contours of the blade and grip that he knew so well. It had been through just as much as the vampire himself and was just as ageless as he. He let his hand drop to his side and took one last look around his room, checking if he could sense anything amiss. He knew that something or someone had been watching him, though he was not alarmed and in fact he felt that he had grown familiar with his regular visitor. He did not perceive anything threatening about them and felt secure enough that the council would not allow for any unsavory types to make their way into their secret meeting. Especially when dealing with such subject matter as they were this night.<br/><br/>Athanasios sensed nothing and calmly made his way out into the hallway, headed for the entrance hall. He wondered if his shadowy stalker would be at the meeting and if they would be bold enough to approach him openly or attempt to avoid him. Or perhaps they would be one of those fools that tried to act nonchalant about something when they knew they had been caught red-handed. He never did understand those ones, as though you would forget what you had seen and believe their lies just because they denied their actions. He recalled a time, many years ago, when he had lived in Rome seeing a man caught murdering a woman in cold blood by the guards. The man had denied what he did all the way to the crucifix, even his screams as he slowly died consisted largely of cries that he was innocent. The ancient vampire wondered if the man had been so delusional that he believed his own lies.<br/><br/>Though he did have to admit that he'd almost seen just as many occasions where that stance worked for people as when it had failed. The sheer stupidity and gullibility of people sometimes made him wonder if he was the only one who saw these things, but he supposed that not many people had seen as many things as he had. He gave a small sigh as he walked into the entry hall, a small smile still curling the corner of his mouth.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>