Johannes' timpanic footfalls echoed through the hallowed halls of marbled antiquity. With gloved hands clenched tight he strode otherwise expressionless toward the winding stairway leading toward the world far below. He had months ago walked away from his sire, uncle, aunt, and grandsire, leaving them motionless in the rich opulence of their
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You'd be loved! And there would be cookies. And quite possibly booze.
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The Savages.
The Invictus.
In that order.
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