It was wonderful weather out, partly cloudy and with a slight chill in the air. Vakker's favorite kind of weather. It was a good day. One of his clients, one he detested and honestly wanted to stop working for, finally went and got assassinated. He hadn't even been the one to hire someone to do it, someone else just did it for him. How wonderful! Things were really looking up!

The Satyr's hooves clicked on the flagstone as he walked down the street. His black pants and matching suit jacket contrasted greatly with the white fur of his legs. The open jacket covered most of his shirt, the fabric changing color between a teal and navy blue depending on which direction is was viewed from. His light blue suspenders were entirely hidden under the jacket.

Yes, it was a rather nice day. Until he saw a pile of dirty snow with a turban on top in the street ahead of him. He stopped in front of it and looked down, his smile hiding his dissatisfaction with seeing such a sight.

"So we meet again, Mubashir."

    Mubashir's travels throughout the market had been going on for most of the morning. There were several excellent sales to be had on this "Hearth Day" that he was certain to take advantage of. All was going well, until the cloud cover had decided to spontaneously break apart about four hours ago. It had been snowing all of last night, and the man on the street corner yelling about the weather had insisted it would be like that all day. Mubashir had not even considered bringing along a scarf or something to cover his face, and the sun was absolutely terrible for his skin. Even a little bit of exposure would have him breaking out in death.

    Thus, for the last three hours and fourty eight minutes, he had accumulated a pile of snow to hid under until somebody informed him that the clouds had returned in their fullest power. Of course, the child who had told him the clouds were back approximately twenty minutes after he had buried himself was an obvious liar, so he would bide his time until a more honest advisor came along. Like always!

    The sounds of the market abound, and the click clack of hooves was not an uncommon ear sight on such a busy holiday. However, this particular click clack that had apparently stopped before him was accompanied by a quite familiar voice...

"...Vakker? Iss that you! Waow!"

    He popped out of the pile in a quickness, his arms spread to the sky as though a jack in the box with a toothy fanged smile. Just as quickly, he hissed and covered his face with a part of his robe, only to realize that the clouds had indeed returned. Interesting...

"My friend! How pleassant to ssee you here! Thiss housse I made wass jusst reminding me of our lasst encounter, how nosstalgic! What are you doing here?"

Vakker brushed the snow off of his jacket that had been scattered by Mubashir's abrupt appearance. He rolled his eyes as Mubashir suddenly hissed in pain. Honestly, the sun was blocked out by the clouds, this fool. Did he not know that? Did he just call this dirty snow his house? Good lord. He was even more destitute than Vakker had thought. And he already had such a low opinion of the man. Weren't Vampires supposed to be smart and wealthy? Well, not all Vampires were like his old friend, he supposed.

"Nostalgic indeed! Why, if I'd known you were so eager to be covered in ice again, I would have been happy to oblige." Vakker offered jokingly with a friendly, innocent smile.

"I was just taking a walk down the street on a lovely day. I suppose you were having a nice time in your... house? Well, don't let me interrupt you. I should be on my way to lunch anyways."

    His ears perked up a bit. Lunch? He hadn't eaten in so long...for the last four hours at the very least. The increased salivation signaled that he must eat...by any means necessary. His clawed hand began reaching out for the Satyr, the forbidden move on the mind. But, restraint was in order. The last time he tried that, he ended up in a Mubashicle floating in the Luna Sea. He withdrew his hands to rub themselves in an awkward fashion, before speaking up.

"Would you mind if I joined you? Each of the plasces I have tried to eat sso far put garlic in everything. Perhapss we can enjoy a nisce meal? Not like, ass a date or anything.

    It was a long shot. The innumerable calculations going through his mind found that a satyr of such cunning and respect could not resist pitying a creature such as he. At least, a thousand years ago that would be true. Maybe satyrs are just kinda dicks now?

Vakker looked down at Mubashir, his contempt and disgust for the man visible on his face for a split second before being hidden again behind his trademark smile. Why? Just why would Mubashir want to go to lunch with him? And why, oh why, would he feel the need to clarify that it was not a date? Vakker never would have assumed it was a date, not between him and this half-dead parasite who also happened to be a Vampire.

He really wanted to say no. ALmost desperately wanted to say no. But, how could he? Oh, no, his heart was ice cold and he didn't care at all just how pathetic Mubashir was in the moment, that wasn't the reason at all. He couldn't say no because they were both standing in the middle of the street and people could see him. What if he rejected Mubashir and the Vampire made a scene? He wouldn't put it past him. Really, he had no choice.

"Sure, a nice meal together would be lovely. I believe I know somewhere that doesn't use garlic. I know this city quite well." Vakker replied friendlily. He decided it would be best not to mention the date comment at all and just pretend it hadn't happened. Of course it wasn't a date.

He started to lead the way down the street toward a nice restaurant he knew of that served Zeinavian food, a cuisine he knew to be free of garlic.

"Exscellent! Then it is a date!" He exclaimed, quite merrily as he clasped his hands together in excitement. Vakker was quite the secret fellow with many complex moods, but the nuances fell short of understanding for the socially starved vampire. Honestly, It had almost been a thousand years since he last shared a meal with someone he did not raise from the dead, so he was quite looking forward to this.
    
     The few people who's attention had been caught had gone about their business, and Mubashir followed the dapper gentlegoat down a few blocks to a location apparently named "Golden Falafel". Decoratively it was quite subtle from what Mubashir recalled of Zeinavan custom. Maybe it had been toned down over the years to accommodate the more refined crowd of the Landing. The Maitre D met them at the entrance, and after inquiring politely about the number of guests, found them a table close to the open air balcony of the place. Easy!

"Waow, Quite the society is it not?" Mubashir inquired, before shortly being interrupted by a local busker playing the Oud and selling flowers table to table. 

"Flowers for the lo-"

"No, thank you." Vakker immediately shooed the busker away. They didn't need flowers. This wasn't a date. They weren't a couple. No.

The busker looked taken aback for a moment before moving on to the next table for two, offering roses while strumming his oud. The next table did take him up on his offer, taking a beautiful red rose. How cliché. Vakker rolled his eyes.

Their orders were taken, Vakker careful to check the menu to be sure his meal had no garlic in it. The ingredient wasn't one found or easily grown in the desert, but he still checked just to be sure they didn't have any. The restaurant was in Sol City, after all, and could access whatever ingredients they pleased even if they claimed to be an authentic Zeinavian eatery. The Satyr never took anyone at their word, including Mubashir.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Vakker struck up a little conversation.

"So, I don't believe you've said yet why you were buried in a pile of snow. Was that really your house, as you claimed? If it was, well, I suppose that makes you homeless now?"

    Mubashir chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. It was a bit of a sore subject to be honest, but he was nothing if not straightforward.

"Ah-ha, A bit awkward. I do sseem to be lacking in the roof department thesse days. I ussed to be a prinsce in the dessert before I wass thiss handssome fellow you ssee before you. My kingdom wass hauge! I went there when Sshaa had let me aout, and it wass jusst a sshitty oassis resst sstop now.... Nobody even knew me!"

    He exclaimed, slightly loudly. One of the waiters walking by shot him a look, must have been from the shitty oasis trading post. Whatever, looking around, Mubashir extracted a small vial of blood from within his robes and dropped it into his serving of water.

"Sso now I kinda jusst wander about. I actually did rescently inheirit a quite large Wagon from ssome random relative, though I dont have anything to move it. What about you? I assume you have ssome mountainsside you live on and chew grasss or ssomething."

Vakker just let Mubashir speak as he began to eat his meal, listening along. This was some interesting information. He could easily guess the man was from Zeinav from his clothing. Even he had to admit Mubashir's drip was immaculate and everyone knew that in Zeinav it was drip or die. But, he didn't know that he had been from a kingdom that no longer existed and was released from whatever he had been trapped in by Shaa. Just how old was this Vampire? If Vakker had a solar for every Vampire he knew that had been born a long long time ago and was fairly recently revived, he'd have two solars. Not that amazing an amount, but strange that he knew two of them.

Vakker's smile faded and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Mubashir. He didn't appreaciate the comment about chewing grass on a mountainside. He hated being compared to a goat. As a Satyr, it was extremely offensive. It was one of few things that could get under Vakker's skin enough to crack his mask.

"No. I live in Sol City. As I said, I know this city quite well." he said flatly, his lack of amusement at Mubashir's comment completely unhidden.

    Oh Vakker, always the sourpuss. Mubashir gave an awkward stuttered laugh, not too dissimilar to the signature cackle of a particular mathematician vampire. This date was going quite swimmingly! Sumaita would have loved to come here, unfortunately If I recall correctly she was at the bottom of a pit underneath the golden spire still. To be quite honest he had forgotten about it until just now. He should probably go fish her out at some point. No matter, the task at hand was to enjoy the moment, yes! Vakker.

"I ssee I ssee. Well then, If I may assk. What opinionss do you have on the people in charge here? I have heard of a ball recently but could not attend, due to the aforementioned entrapment."

    The desire to catch up with the current times was certainly a concern, he had mentioned to a newspaper man the wellbeing of a king long dead. The look of concern shall haunt him forever. Certainly this former Shard Guard would be up to date on the goings-on about town. He twirled the cactus fibres around the tiny pitchfork they had given him to eat with. Such instruments were known, yet foreign to his practical knowledge. He had wanted to try something new to eat, but these were obviously frozen cacti, not fresh.

"Mm. What a shame. There was nearly an assassination there." If only it had succeeded. Vakker thought to himself as he took a sip of his cactus juice. It was alright. He'd had fresh cactus juice and this wasn't as good. It tasted a bit watered down. The salad with grilled haloumi cheese was alright as well. Nothing at this restaurant really stood out as amazing.

The disappointing restaurant coupled with the grating company was starting to make Vakker feel like this whole thing had been a waste of time. Would voicing his opinion on the ruling families in Sol City even be worth it? Mubashir didn't seem like one to understand a word he was talking about even if he did claim to have once been a prince. He also didn't want to give Mubashir anything that could be used against him. When it came to discussing his personal affairs or politics, he tried to reveal his hand as little as possible and now was no exception.

"Well that was a fine meal, but I must be on my way. My lunch break is over and I need to get back to work." Vakker placed enough solars on the table to cover both of their meals, stood up, and left without giving Mubashir enough time to say much more to him.

"Oh, ok ssee you soon! Had a wonderful time!" Mubashir shouts out at the quickly escaping Satyr. The date was a success, having ingratiated himself to a mortal enemy, it was a step towards world domination. After all, who were the hardest to convince to like you than the ones who had once attempted to kill you.

    Dabbing his mouth with the napkin, Mubashir noticed that the young man had accidently left a small amount of money on the table. Silly goat-men, always so forgetful. Grabbing it, he dashed out of the restaurant hoping to catch him, but looking around, Vakker had already vanished into the mid-afternoon crowds. Ah, well. He knew the man well enough to be certain that they would run into each other once again.

    It was only a matter of time....

    In the midst of sneering to himself at a supposedly nice theatre ending, a burly Zeinavan man tackled him in the middle of the street for walking out on the check.