The beginning of the winter season offered much: familiar carols, colored lights twinkling on homes and in storefront windows, brightly wrapped packages just begging to be opened set beneath the Christmas tree. For many, these simple things were cause for joy and excitement. For Erich, it was the opposite. He loathed the holiday season, grateful for only one thing that the winter offered: longer nights. Darkness offered a shred of solstice for the ex-spy, and he wore it like a cloak. His 'urges' seemed to be more easily controlled when his temptations were kept to a minimum.
Not that he'd had much experience keeping them in check within the city of Cascade, of course. He'd fled just as soon as he'd been able, nearly a decade ago. Those had been dismal, desperate, and confusing times...ones he'd rather forget, all truth be told. While there was plenty he would never be able to change as a result of his last mission, at the very least he was stronger now. He had more control. Only his absolute conviction on that last fact allowed him to come back to the city.
Snow crunched loudly beneath his boots as he made his way up to the club. The temperatures were frigid, dangerous even; it was likely the establishment would be quite slow in terms of patrons. Human ones, at least--and that was good. Snow swirled around him on the wind as he pulled the door open and stepped inside. His pale gaze drifted briefly over the current customers before he headed to a stool and settled his muscled frame. He had never been an idealistic man; never an optimist...therefore, he had not believed for even a moment that there would be a familiar face in the once-familiar bar. He hadn't known many in life to begin with, and time had an ugly way of calling people away. The few he'd known were likely living lives far away from the quaint city of Cascade.
Especially Cammie. His partner, his friend. The closest relationship he'd ever formed with another, in all truth. His ironclad loyalty to his government had prevented him from making connections. In life, he'd been one of Russia's best and finely turned weapons. He wouldn't have sacrificed that position for anything. Cammie had been a thread of humanity to him all of those years ago, however. A decade had passed since his last encounter with his partner, but he still fervently hoped she'd found peace, if not happiness. She deserved that much.
He brushed a large, calloused hand through his thick, blond locks, icy eyes weary as he surveyed the beverages. His thirst was not burning...no, he'd been smart enough to attend to that before coming. Yet still, the scents in the bar were strong and he wondered if Cascade had finally been passed completely over to the supernatural world. It would not be surprising if it had been, or if the bar now catered to other pallets besides the human one. He almost smirked at prospect, remembering the gravity the mission that had brought him to Cascade in the first place. What would his superior think now? It was almost a comical thing. He slid the black fabric of his jacket off of his broad shoulders, settling in to wait to be attended to, faintly aware that perhaps the only good thing about immortality was that one could afford to be patient.
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The scars inside don't heal
The pain no more can I feel
I'm callous, alone, but unafraid
For better or worse I've changed
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