Home
Steam Name: Kurogane
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:10419080
Why do you think you should get this whitelist?:
Well, for starters I'm not overly interested in combative roleplay and I feel like I could bring something interesting to the table if given the chance. I may not be exceptionally well versed in roleplaying via Garry's Mod, but I do have extensive knowledge elsewhere. I am more interested in exploring the dualistic nature of a Vampire, and I also have a nifty little idea floating around in my head about a Vampire who opts to become something of a chronicler. What better way to spend an extended lifespan than recording history?
I more than understand if you reject my application. Nobody really knows who I am, and I haven't really popped onto your server yet because I've been trying to piece together what I could about the current setting of the server so I could create a character. Likewise, I've also been gathering the content and what not that the server requires. If rejected, I'll likely come up with another character and just human it up I suppose. So, I apologize in advance if you, ya know, hate it.
How long have you been roleplaying for?: 14 Years, in various different message boards, MMORPGs, and different mediums including Pen & Paper games.
Write the backstory of your character [No minimum or maximum length, use common sense and discretion]:
Give an example of Feeding RP [10 Lines min]:
Give an example of Combat RP [15 lines min]:
[While combat is hardly the forte of my character, I shall indulge.]
Give an example of Passive RP [15 lines min]:
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:10419080
Why do you think you should get this whitelist?:
Well, for starters I'm not overly interested in combative roleplay and I feel like I could bring something interesting to the table if given the chance. I may not be exceptionally well versed in roleplaying via Garry's Mod, but I do have extensive knowledge elsewhere. I am more interested in exploring the dualistic nature of a Vampire, and I also have a nifty little idea floating around in my head about a Vampire who opts to become something of a chronicler. What better way to spend an extended lifespan than recording history?
I more than understand if you reject my application. Nobody really knows who I am, and I haven't really popped onto your server yet because I've been trying to piece together what I could about the current setting of the server so I could create a character. Likewise, I've also been gathering the content and what not that the server requires. If rejected, I'll likely come up with another character and just human it up I suppose. So, I apologize in advance if you, ya know, hate it.
How long have you been roleplaying for?: 14 Years, in various different message boards, MMORPGs, and different mediums including Pen & Paper games.
Write the backstory of your character [No minimum or maximum length, use common sense and discretion]:
The story of Alexander Lacroix begins in a small hospital in the English countryside in 1922 -- the son of Basile Lacroix, a salesman who had immigrated to England, and Sophia Gates-Lacroix, an English heiress. His childhood was relatively uneventful as he and his family existed in relative peace in their small estate. As soon as he was of age, Alexander was enrolled in a Boy's Academy that doubled as a military academy shortly after the birth of his second sister. As fears of a renewed war with Germany rose and the memories of the last war still fresh in the memories of the people, it was a trying time and such academies were not unheard of. It was in this academy that Alexander would learn the skills necessary to make him an effective soldier in services of King and Country should the need ever arise.
His initial years in the academy were sluggish as the young Alexander proved of a weak disposition, often shying away from the more combat related teaching to instead bury himself in books. This would ultimately prove to be his real calling as he lost himself in the annals of history. There was so much about the past that fascinated Alexander, whose more pacifistic nature prevented him from being viewed as an effective soldier. There was talk about dismissing him from the academy, but it seemed that everyone's worst fears were destined to come to fruition.
Hitler's invasion of Poland shook the European world to its core and France and the United Kingdom responded by declaring war upon Germany. While their role was initially a limited one, the rejection of an overture for peace by Hitler toward the United Kingdom and France saw the German invasion of France come to fruition in 1940. The state of war meant that now, more than ever, the country needed soldiers and whether Alexander liked it or not his experience at the academy was enough to see him drug into duty alongside his peers. His father was as proud as could be, though deemed unable to actually fight himself due to an injury he had sustained during the First World War.
Alexander's involvement in the war as sporadic, though he did see action in 1940 when the German forces blazed through the heavily wooded Ardennes. It wasn't long, however, before the allied forces were completely decimated by the onslaught of the German's which had managed to flank around behind them due to the mistaken belief that the Ardennes provided a natural barrier against heavily armored vehicles. Alexander was among those evacuated at Dunkirk, often considered by some as a military miracle Alexander remembered it for what it truly was; a disaster. They left behind tonnes upon tonnes of equipment which the German's seized and not long after Dunkirk all of France capitulated to the German army.
His service was not over, however, and Alexander soon found himself deployed to Africa first to combat the Italians and then to combat the German's when they arrived and rolled back the considerable gains the Commonwealth had made in North Africa. His tenure as a soldier in Africa was, however, short lived. After sustaining a serious injury, Alexander was transported from the front-lines to allied territory and then finally back to England for further treatment and recovery. There wasn't much peace on the homefront, however, as the frequent bombing raids by the German's made life in England difficult.
His service through the war was, however, considered exemplary. Though there was no confirmation that he had ever fired a shot in anger at the enemy, his resourcefulness had kept him and his men alive through multiple engagements. Eventually, the war would end as all things did and the German's were defeated. Alexander's next station, thus, was in the city of Berlin during the occupation. The times had been tense with disagreement between the Soviets and the rest of the Allies on how to proceed.
It was in Berlin that Alexander officially died. His murder was said to have been a gruesome one, though he did not truly die -- no, Alexander simply went missing from his duty station one day...and as was so often the case, the source of Alexander's problems began with a woman. She had blonde hair, pale skin, and the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. A petite German woman, she often visited Alexander while he was on duty. Little did Alexander know she had other designs for him...Had he known he probably would he spurned her or rejected her. He probably would have driven her away from his sight and cursed her very existence with every hymn and prayer that he knew.
But he didn't -- how could he have known? After all, hers was a kind adept at secrecy and he was just a simple war weary soldier and at the time she seemed like quite possibly the greatest idea ever. So, when she had suggested he sneak away from his post for a little 'fun' he unsurprisingly capitulated and slipped away into the night. He never knew that he'd never be seen again, that the government would eventually cover up his disappearance and misattribute his death to that of a destitute corpse found burned beyond recognition by a serial killer.
No, what happened to him was something all together different. Part of him wished he had just died, but there was something sensuous and erotic in the embrace. The way the life drained from him, the darkness slowly taking him as she drank her fill from him only to be pulled back from the precipice of darkness. He was a new man, his senses aflame with wonder as his eyesight was more keen, his hearing more astute; his was the body of a predator now, though he hardly seemed appreciative of the change.
Alexander and Elisa spent few nights together -- she explained to him the basics of what he was now and what it meant before she disappeared. Alexander never knew what happened to her, always assuming that she had simply walked out of his life. There were so many questions which had been left unanswered and yet Alexander was partially glad to see her gone from his life; after all, she was the one who had turned him into the being that he was. He tries to abstain at first, but the thirst only grew stronger and stronger in the nights that he did not indulge in his need to feed, even going so far as to try and obtain sustenance from a rat before ultimately resigning himself to the fact that he required nourishment to survive.
The nights were young and the world was changing around Alexander, though Alexander himself changed very little. At some point he made the conscious decision that he would only feed off of those that he thought 'deserved' it, more often than not targeting criminals and prostitutes and only going after 'innocent' individuals if he had no other course available to him. Eventually the environment in Berlin grew to bore Alexander, leading him to make his way west once more.
He spent the next several years on the move, exploring the tattered remains of post-war Europe and offering his services at night on odd jobs that sustained him during his travels. He took any odd job that came his way all while chronicling everything he saw and heard, really. As the nights drug on, so too did Alexander's disposition change. Little by little he stopped hating what he had become and instead grew all the more curious as to what insight history might be able to offer him to his kind. It was hard to find reliable sources at first, but if one knew how to read between the lines it seemed that his kind had existed far longer than he had ever imagined. The clues were subtle, though they did exist. Myths and legends, mostly, but there was always a little truth in the lies that men told themselves.
It was during his time in Paris in the early fifties that Alexander would fall in love for the second time. His nights were spent most often browsing through sections of old history books at one of the libraries that still stood in Paris, the books often offering him solace in the boredom of the night. It was during these long nights that Alexander grew more and more acquainted with the librarian, who was more often than not surprised that someone came to the library at such odd hours.
Her name was Camille and she had possessed the most stunning stormy grey eyes that Alexander had ever seen hidden away behind a pair of glasses. The two shared much in common and so, on one fateful night, Alexander decided that he would have her. There was little resistance from Camille to the prospect of a date, though Alexander hadn't quite reflected upon the irony in him becoming the very thing he had despised when he tangled his hand into the chocolate trusses of her hair and sunk his fangs into her neck in that dark alley.
Much as Elisa had done to Alexander, he waited for Camille to come around before explaining to her in the darkness of a small apartment what had happened and what she had become. The girl was reasonably angry at first, but unlike Alexander it seemed that she calmed down rather quickly.
"There's no point, what's done is done"
He remembered she had said with a smile. For the first time in years Alexander was not alone, and more importantly than acquiring a protege, he had acquired a confidant in which he could confide his life story. Camille was fascinated by the tales which Alexander had to tell her, and he adored her for it. Their relationship seemed less romantic and more akin to a paternal one, as Camille had lost both of her parents during the war. Alexander offered to her guidance and wisdom, and to Alexander Camille provided a wonderful listener and a faithful companion.
It didn't take long before the two grew restless and they set off from France to the New World. The immigration process to the United States was something of a tricky matter, the two eventually managing to get themselves onto a transport ship on the guise of shipping dead relatives overseas so that their other family members could handle their burial in America. All it took once they had made port was waiting for night to fall before the two escaped and slipped off into the darkness together.
Looking back on it, moving to the United States was the worst fucking decision he'd ever made. The Red Scare was in full swing and everyone and their brother was paranoid that someone or another was a communist. They had to be careful with how they handled themselves, since neither one of 'em had known anything about America to begin with and neither one of them were even in the country legally. Hell, it wasn't even possible for them to be in the country legally...legally they were dead. That said, all it took was a few carefully greased palms for Alexander to acquire fake documents for the two of them that allowed them leeway on their travels.
Their journey together would prove to be shorter than Alexander had ever desired. The loss of Camille he considered the second greatest tragedy of his life. It happened in a small town on the West Coast during the seventies -- Camille had gotten caught feeding, which had alerted forces Alexander had never knew were in play to her existence. He was forced to watch from a distance as Camille was murdered by a Hunter. There was little he could do to prevent it, watching from the distance with fists clenched before he disappeared into the night.
He swore he would never take another in as he done with Camille, cursing the girl for her foolishness while secretly blaming himself. If time had proven anything to Alexander it was that attachments were such unnecessary things. He had once viewed himself as a monster because he had been turned, but his experiences in life taught him that it was humankind that were the true monsters. Eventually, Alexander became more and more reclusive as he strove to be above humanity -- they were like children flailing helplessly against the fates that dictated them all. He took solace in his books as he done so many years ago, though this time he strove to be not only researcher but author as well. He set his mind to writing a chronicle of not only his life, but of the world as he experienced it over the many years he had been alive.
He continued to travel across the United States as he compiled more and more knowledge on not only his own kind, but on the other 'fables' that existed, such as werewolves. He moved from location to location generally based upon the flow of events, his travels taking him wherever anything of note was happening. He was never an active participant, mind you, but a simple observer. It was no longer his place to interfere with history; he wasn't interested in making it, only in recording it. The years drug on slowly, like grains of sand falling through an hourglass. He did not know whether his family had survive or what fate had befallen his sisters. Had they any children? Did his line continue? He was the last male child when he was turned, and it wasn't as if he could phone home after they had reported him dead.
His accent shed after his years of travel, Alexander no longer really baring any semblance of his English upbringing. His years in America were a virtual roller coaster of highs and lows that eventually culminated in the exposure of his kind. The revelation that the creatures of the night existed did little to deter Alexander, who instead resolved to be 'smarter' about keeping his own existence as secure as possible all while shying just on the edge of the brewing storm so that he could continue to create an accurate chronicle of what was to transpire in the coming nights.
Give an example of Feeding RP [10 Lines min]:
** The night had been exceptionally cold as snowflakes fell upon the streets of post-war Berlin. It was a scene of hell on Earth with buildings that remained bombed out despite the reconstruction effort being undertaken by the occupation government -- it was a sign of the times, really. The war had taken so much from so many people, so it seemed fitting for it to have ended the way it did. It certainly suited Alexander, anyways. **
** His hands found themselves buried into the pockets of the large black trenchcoat that had come to adorn his body, not that the cold had much of an effect on him given his current living impairment. The jacket was for appearances, mostly. If he had walked around in the cold weather looking like it didn't bother him it was certain to draw unwanted attention to himself. What was the purpose for his journey? Well, it was feeding time. He could feel the thirst building inside of him, the insatiable hunger that gnawed at the back of his mind. It was always there with him, and he tried to fight it for as long as he could. There was, unfortunately, no chance that he would ever win that fight -- he could no more change his nature or resist his hunger than he could make the sun cold, or the sky red. It was a futile struggle and he knew it as he felt his own form deteriorate over time when he tried to hold off. **
** Alexander was on the hunt, his heightened senses being put to use to scope out and eavesdrop on various different conversations as he staggered through the snowy streets of Berlin at night. He had a specific taste and a specific demographic which he targeted, and his need was soon to be met when he saw a woman in rather revealing attire standing just toward the entrance of an alley way, the woman's green eyes giving Alexander that 'come hither' look as she lifted a hand and beckoned him with a finger. It wasn't uncommon to see prostitutes as many women had lost their husbands, brothers, and livelihood in the war. It was a brave new world, after all.**
** Alexander took the bait for all it was worth, stopping mid stride as he turned to the side and slowly marched in toward the alley and to the woman that had so pleasantly offered himself up to her. "Dollars American...or Pounds British." She said, a thick German accent flowing through her words as her hand reached up and grabbed Alexander by his tie, tugging his form closer to her own as he pulled a money clip up from his pocket. "Pounds Sterling, love." The Vampire replied, a small smile crossing his lips as a dainty hand reached over to take the money from him before she turned around and led him further into the alley. The buildings around them bore the scars of the war well, though the woman did not know she was soon to receive more than she had bargained for.**
** His hand clasped itself over her mouth as they had tucked themselves away into the alley, "Do not scream." He whispered into her ear as her body tensed up, attempting to struggle against the grip she had suddenly found herself in. He was strong, stronger than she had ever expected him to be. "It will hurt...But I do not want your body...You'll live, and you'll be richer for it." He tried to explain to the woman as she continued to struggle and thrash about in his arms until she eventually settled down a bit. **
** He didn't know whether she had relaxed out of fatigue or because she had tacitly trusted him on some level. It didn't seem to matter much to him as the hand which was clasped over her mouth also slowly turned the woman's head to one side as his mouth dropped down, fangs slowly baring themselves as he moved in. **
** There was a loud squeal against his palm as his fangs sank themselves into the girl's neck, targeting the throbbing artery which his senses had allowed him to so keenly hone in on. Her struggles resumed as she thrashed and slammed her hands back against him, smacking at whatever part of his body she could reach as the life was slowly drained from her. **
** As much as he tried to hate it, tried to disdain and abstain from it, the feeling of that warm nectar as it flowed down his throat was a bliss he could seldom achieve by other means. His entire body shuddered as the blood burned through his system, his grip on her growing tighter as his strength slowly returned to him in its entirety. Her fight slowly drained away once again as the lack of blood would make her dizzy. **
** Alexander, however, never drank the last drop. He had concluded long ago that it was dangerous to chase that last drop. He didn't know if he could ever control himself if he did, or what manner of monster he would become if he did so. His fangs released, gasping into the air as he felt more alive than he had in the past several days. "Thank you." He uttered to the woman who seemed on the verge of fainting, Alexander's lips curling into a small grin. **
** He made sure the wound would not cause her too much trouble before he hoisted her up and carried her body through the night to the nearest emergency aid station, the Vampire idly depositing her out front before disappearing into the night. He was, after all, not without mercy. He figured someone would find her passed out form long before she suffered any permanent injury, but long after he departed the area. **
Give an example of Combat RP [15 lines min]:
[While combat is hardly the forte of my character, I shall indulge.]
** It was a rarity for Alexander to find himself in a situation where he could not simply walk away or peacefully work his way out of it, having long since sworn himself off from being the aggressor after the war. There were, unfortunately, certain times when it seemed unavoidable and that self-defense was necessitated. This being one such time, it would seem. He wasn't sure how it had all gone wrong -- he had just been enjoying a drink at a bar when some comments were exchanged and the next thing he knew, another Vampire had him by his collar and pushed against a wall. "...All I'm sayin' is that's a face only a mother could love." Antagonizing the Augustine was probably not the way to go, but Alexander gave a cheeky little smile none the less as the other responded by giving him a rough punch to the stomach.
** "Now now...Surely we can work this out." Alexander tried to reason with the Augustine, though the other seemed to have no desire to reach a peaceful resolution to this as Alexander's words were replied to with a forceful blow to the head courtesy of the other Augustine's own forehead.
** Alexander coughed a little, blood dripping down from his nose and his mouth "...Or not!" He spat, blood flying from his mouth and into the face of the other as his leg swung out in a desperate attempt to dislodge himself from the other, his boot connecting with the Augustine's chest as he pressed his back into the wall for leverage, providing enough force to free himself of the little grappling session. **
** The other Augustine stumbled backwards once his grip on Alexander had been broken "I'll fuckin' kill you!" The Vampire bellowed in an anger as he rushed across the bar and slammed into Alexander's body once more, the duo of Vampire's finding themselves tumbling through a glass window onto the dusty road outside. The Augustine raised his fist up, slamming it down into Alexander's face a couple of times. **
** "Come...off...it...!" Alexander shouted in reply after the third blow had connected with his face and things started to get a tad blurry and distorted. He was losing the fight, he didn't like fighting but when he did fight he at least liked to -win- the damn altercation. He responded to the blows with a quick jab to the ribs, displacing the weight of the other Augustine as they toppled over together with Alexander ontop now. **
** "You can surrender now, ya know." Alexander offered, the other Augustine snarling up at him and snapping at Alexander, to which the older Vampire responded by delivering another quick right hook to the other's head. **
** Alexander enjoyed the advantage while he could, raining blows down upon the other Augustine until he felt a sudden jab of a knee into his back, Alexander being dislodged from the Augustine as he rolled over. The Augustine rolled as well as the two men staggered to their feet. **
** "Oh come on, that's not even fair." Alexander complained as his opponent suddenly drew a switch blade, the audience having long since gathered around the shattered window to watch the fight. The Augustine took a stab at Alexander, though Alexander managed to narrowly avoid it and countered with another quick jab to the temple. **
** The blow only infuriated the Augustine further, who rushed forward at Alexander once more stabbing at the Vampire. Alexander tried to dodge again, but lost his footing and let off a rather distinguished "FUCKIN' CUNT" As the blade ripped through the fabric of his coat, and more importantly through the flesh of his shoulder. **
** "Welllll, I think I've had about enough of this!" Alexander protested, his hand reaching over as he gripped the Augustine's wrist, jamming that switch in deeper to his flesh and giving a grunt of pain as he kept the knife buried into his shoulder. His free arm came up, delivering several blows to the Augustine's ribs until the other released the knife and staggered back. **
** Alexander shifted a little, huffing as blood drained off of his face and down from his shoulder. Things weren't looking so hot for Alexander at the moment as blood continued to drip from his body. "Whaddaya say we call it a draw, eh?" **
** "Heh..Heh...You're jus sore cause I'm winning." The Augustine retorted, raising back up to his full stature as he cracked his knuckles. Even on a good day this Augustine was larger than Alexander, who relied more on his mind than he ever did on brawn. The Augustine charged him again, arm cocked back. **
** Alexander watched carefully, or as carefully as he could through the blood pouring from his face. He didn't know how much more punishment he could take, though he figured it was time to see if he could remember anything from his days in the army. The Augustine came in fast, swinging his fat fist toward Alexander's face. Alexander responded by essentially parrying the blow, instead grabbing the Augustine by the wrist as he used the oaf's own momentum to throw him off balance and to the ground. **
** Once on the ground, the Augustine would suddenly find Alexander's knee lodged against his wind pipe as the other vampire offered an exasperated suit. "Look, mate. You've ruined my suit, bloodied my face, and stabbed me. All in all you've been rather discourteous." Alexander noted, knee still pressing down against his neck. "But I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." **
** The Augustine gurgled and grunted, a hand reaching up as he gave one more futile punch toward Alexander's side, causing the other Vampire to grunt a little bit before applying more pressure with his knee. **
** "Look, friend. Just tap the ground and I'll go my own way...Otherwise, I'm gonna have to put you down big fella." Alexander explained with a sigh, the Augustine beneath him still attempting to muster a struggle before eventually slamming his palm against the ground. "Marvelous." Alexander announced, raising up off of the other as he quickly ripped the switch from his shoulder, throwing it into the ground so that the blade became embedded in the nearby dirt. **
Give an example of Passive RP [15 lines min]:
** The warm embrace of the sun seemed to him now like the forlorn memory of an old lover. How he had longed to feel the caress of the sun again, though he knew to do so would result in his demise. It was one of the facts that had been made painfully clear to him upon his 'transformation'. Elisa had warned him that the nights seemed to grow longer and longer as time marched on, that every once and again the temptation existed to simply walk outside on a sunny day and kiss everything goodbye. But, he had long since forgotten that gentle warmth that the sun had once provided him. **
** He'd had more than one of those days...Anytime he thought about Camille it seemed more and more the favorable option. The thoughts of that night replaying in his head; was there something he could have done different? Not likely. He wasn't equipped to handle a threat of that nature, and Camille had broken the one cardinal rule he had instilled onto her, the same rule that Elisa had instilled within him. You were to never be seen. **
** There was so much at the time that seemed to be at stake; being seen meant endangering their kind as a whole, a prospect which seemed silly to worry about now that it had come to fruition anyways. It was bound to happen, really. Who was he to think that they could have stopped it? Technology marched forward, and the internet and prevalence of smartphones hardly did anything to help their cause.
** It was quiet nights like these that Alexander often found himself in contemplation. His hunger had already been satisfied and there was hardly any need for him to seek company. Instead, he found himself perched idly upon a fire escape as he stared out across the cityscape.**
** He had debated leaving America, but he didn't know really where he would even go. Back to England? Back to France? Back to Germany? It had been decades since he had last called any of those places home, and France was largely out of the question due to the memories attached with it. **
** New York, however, had grown dull of listless for the Vampire. He was never one to stay in one spot for long, his survival generally necessitating his frequent movements. He had settled his affairs the night before, liquidating his assets. All that was left was the transportation across country, which he had already mostly worked out thanks to catching a gangbanger off guard. **
** "Won't be needing much, really." Alexander mused to himself as he drew the bag over his shoulder. His descent down the fire escape was a quick one until his leather boot made contact with pavement as he set out. He didn't have a particularly destination in mind, only that he was going to head westward. **
** His pack contained a few vital supplies, really, though it contained far more books than it had anything else. He had already 'packed' a meal in the back of the vehicle in the form of the bound and gagged thug he had so generously appropriated his transportation from. The thug would be enough to see him through the trip, most likely. **
** California, it had always sounded like such a paradise when he listened to the American's talk about it in Germany. Sunshine and waves, they'd always say. Not that the sunshine part hadn't become horribly irrelevant to Alexander at this point in life, it was still one place he had never quite managed to get around to visiting. **
** "California it is." He said outloud to no one in particular as he stuck the key in the ignition and the car roared to life. His fingers played across the radio dials until he found something that he actually liked, classic rock from the eighties quickly filling the vehicle as it pulled out onto the street and began its long journey. **
** Unfortunately, recent events had made life a little more than complicated. The journey would probably take longer than necessary as Alexander would err on the side of caution, traveling down backroads mostly. His days would be spent in abandoned barns or other similar structures that could offer him protection from the sunlight.**
** The inability to travel during the day only served to increase the length of Alexander's journey, though he would find the time he spent hiding out in old buildings useful for planning what it was he wanted to do exactly -- not only had he decided on California, but he decided he would visit Los Angeles in particular. **
** He had always heard stories about Los Angeles and what it was like, though he did not know how much of it would prove to be accurate considering everything that had happened. His knowledge of the region was all from information he'd heard years and years ago, and oh how the times had changed.**
** Half-way into the second leg of his journey Alexander let the dazed and confused gangbanger out, ditching the man at some clinic in some dusty town in the middle of fuckin' no-where Arizona. The man had provided Alexander enough blood to see the rest of the journey through, and once he was in LA Alexander would figure out what to do from there. **
** Alexander arrived at his destination just before dawn threatened to rear its ugly head, the Augustine really coming in by the skin of his teeth as he promptly ditched the car and immediately sought out shelter. Shelter was always priority number one, as he was vulnerable during the day. He needed to have a safe spot to bed down, from there he could begin to get a feel for the area. He was certain there was going to be no shortage of excitement for him to observe...After all, the nights had become increasingly interesting. **
