[ The dream starts strangely, though as is the way of dreams, Xenk finds nothing strange about it. He is a child of eight, perhaps? Ten? The sun shines bright overhead. He runs across a courtyard lined in stone gargoyles with golden accents, each menacing face familiar and well-known to him.

This is Xenk's home. He is still young, but he knows all the rules. During the day, Father sleeps. At night, Father wakes. He naps in between, sneaking into rooms and finding nooks and crannies where his parents cannot find him. Today is no different. He is a child. He is happy. ]

Master Xenk, you are to be sleeping.

[ A flat, listless voice calls for him from the entryway. The man calling to him is a splitting image of Xenk himself, with warm, brown eyes and short, dark hair.

Xenk giggles from his hiding spot behind one of the gargoyles. A woman's voice follows, just as flat. She has Xenk's strong jaw and kind features. Or, they might be kind, if the Xenk in real life actually bothered to show any kindness. ]

Master Xenk, listen to your --

[ Her voice catches, like the words have been torn from her mind. They don't exist. Szass Tam is Xenk's Father. That's right. ]

Your Father will be upset if he finds you are awake.

[ Xenk giggles again. Oh, have you been standing there this whole time? He shushes you the moment he sees you, waving you over to hide. ]

Quick, or they'll find me! We're playing hide and seek!

cw: graphic violence, emotional abuse

[ It's years later now, this time Xenk appears as others know him. He looks exactly the same in fact, except his normally-gold eyes are a rich brown. Gold seeps in at the edges of his irises if you squint, but he carries himself with the same severity.

Or he would try to, anyway. He is not trying now. Now he stands in his tiny novice room, licking the blood off his knuckles in a vain attempt to heal them. It's too early for his saliva to be effective enough, but he deeply wishes it were not so. Light seeps into his room from the cracks in his curtains, the red-golden glow putting this memory at sunset.

Xenk braces himself as an imposing figure enters the room. It's his father -- not the man from his earlier memory, but Szass Tam. An imposing, undead creature draped in golden robes and black tattoos that start along his shaved head and cover the rest of his body.

His lips move, and though nothing is audible, Xenk downcast gaze is pulled up. His eyes betray no fear, but instead seem fueld by admiration. ]

No, Father. It won't happen again.

[ His maker's only speaks, but the inaudible words seem to hit Xenk like a blow. Xenk was only ever allowed to make his mistakes once. He knows he would never do so again. ]

I will make you proud, Father.

[ Szass Tam smiles, all teeth, seemingly appeased. Yet this is no memory, and rather than leave, the monstrous vampire raises a clawed hand and drives it through Xenk's middle with a squelch. ]

What...? [ Xenk can only gasp in shock, a pain so brilliant and sudden that it reminds him of how it had felt to lose his Maker. ] ...Father, why?

[ The hand comes back bloody, a mix of human red with molten gold. Xenk falls to his knees in pain, tears streaming down his face without his say so. No, this was not real. It was a nightmare. ]

Father!

[ Xenk calls, the specter of Szass Tam vanishing in a cloud of mist, leaving Xenk clutching his bleeding chest. Yeah, Xenk could use a little help? ]

[ Freed from his nightmare through either sheer luck or force of will, Xenk has no interest in repeating the experience. The screams that echo throughout the halls of the castle are a mockery of everything Courtsheart stands for, and the curse's magical origins means it's no simple matter.

What can he do? Xenk is in the (A} library, poring through a book of vampiric history. The pages are ancient, the leather quite possibly bound in human skin. Don't worry about it! He is quite intent as he reads, and may need to be poked or prodded to get his attention.

Around him, a team of 6 thralls is likewise poring through books at a rapid pace. They have newer tomes, and their eyes are glazed over from exertion, but it's clear they've been commanded to aid him, and aid him they will, whether they're falling asleep or not.

If that doesn't yield results, then Xenk can be found in his (B) office. Even his perfect skin carries the shade of a lack of sleep. He seems to be... doing math? Yes. He keeps moving tallies over on his abacus, his forehead propped on his free hand, focus intent on whatever calculations he's working on. Hope you weren't here for anything class related, because he's quite visibly not in the best mood.

He speaks without looking up from his work. ]

I am occupied at present. If you have questions pertaining to class, write them down and leave them here. I will respond within two days.

[ You're... dismissed? ]

[ Xenk can't only stay in his office and the library this month. It would be bad form not to represent his Court in the Winter Games, after all. So of course, Xenk joins in the games.

You are looking at the Gold Court's star-thrall curler, 15-years-running. Xenk works wonders on the ice, needing only a glance towards his team to have them all running efficiently, like a well-oiled machine. It's no surprise when he wins yet another match. Really, it's almost unfair how good he is at this.

If you happen to be one of his students who is unlucky enough to make eye-contact with him, you'll find yourself trapped in conversation now. ]

Perhaps you'd like to assist me? The finesse needed for this sport is excellent practice.

[ If you are a teacher, please feel free to either cheer him or roll your eyes at him. There's really no need to care this much about this stupid sport, but boy, does Xenk care. ]

[ For anything else hit me up on Xenk's plotting comment or on plurk! ]