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It was just a night like any other.

Since both of his fathers had gone on some trip somewhere and had not returned to the temple in some time, Kieran had made the questionable choice of going out into the world and making a bit of a name for himself. Not a good name, either. The more bad fortunes he told, the more darkness he spread with his words, and the worse his reputation had become. The thing that he did had soon become twisted. He was now not the one who was able to predict a dark path, but was the one who set people upon it.

Like a curse.

Admittedly, he found it a little amusing. He knew he was not cursing people, but if that is what they wanted to believe, welllll...

The red-haired vampire sat in one of the usual haunts. A fairly quiet lounge, with just a few patrons milling about and one or two sitting along the bar. He was in his typical place, a booth tucked away in a dark corner, a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth, with a thick cloud of smoke suspended heavily in the air around him. He was leaning back, his arms crossed over his chest, his green gaze sweeping over the few figures he could see. Nobody that he had not noticed around before, and not a single one even glanced in his direction. Occasionally, one of the servers would approach with trepidation and ask if he needed anything but more often than not, he would wave them off.

It was a slow night, slower than usual, and he wondered if he ought to leave and find somewhere more exciting to be. But no, something was telling him he needed to stay here, and Kieran tended to follow his gut. It did not often lead him astray.

So, he decided he would wait a bit longer, and see if anything interesting might come his way.

Kieran had just taken a slow draw on his cigar, the flavour rolling across his tongue to the back of his throat, and he savoured it for a brief moment before letting those tendrils of smoke curl back out of his mouth, his gaze drifting almost lazily toward the new arrival to the lounge, a hooded figure that he did not recognize. He smiled to himself, lips curling up slowly, his eyes half-lidded, and he leaned forward in his seat, his arms uncrossing to place his hands in front of him on the tabletop.

In the span of time that it took him to do this, the one he was watching had pushed his hood back from his face, and Kieran caught a glimpse of eyes that looked impossibly dark from where he sat.

It was as if he had fallen straight into the depths of that blackened gaze. He felt a rush of power traipse across his skin and he shuddered, something clenching low in his gut, his chest tightening with an iron-clad grip that seemed to have seized his unbeating heart. In his vision, the man who had just entered the lounge stood before him, and he saw his own hand reach up to rest against his face, before that image fractured, like a broken mirror, a darkness swirling around, sucking away all of the light and swallowing them both.

He gasped out loud when the image ended and hissed a curse, rather loudly, beneath his breath. His hands had, at some point, moved to grip the edge of the table, so hard they were shaking, his knuckles white.

Kieran was almost never present in his own visions. Not since the one that had shown him pushing Vadoma into the fountain. What did it mean?

He knew what it meant. He was just trying to avoid admitting it to himself, but his chest still ached from what he saw, even while a thrill ran through him and his goosebumps spread across his shoulders, and down his arms.

He and this vampire would be intrinsically and intimately connected. And somehow, that was going to be bad for either him or Kieran...though it seemed like it would be both. <********." He growled, loud enough to be heard from across the room. Should the stranger look his way, he would tilt his head at him, and jerk his head to indicate he should join him at the booth.

There was something very intimidating about the man who moved towards him then, and Kieran did not know what to make of it. Those eyes that were almost completely black but not quite, the power he could feel emanating from him, making the hair along his arms raise, the way he held himself, as if he were the most important person in the room.

And maybe he was. Kieran did not know anything about him, except what he had seen in the vision.

The young vampire had long since released the edge of the table and had taken another draw on his cigar as the dark-haired stranger approached, using it to attempt to calm sudden nerves. He offered the man an easy smile as he approached, the smoke once again curling out in whispy tendrils, his green eyes brightening slightly as he used a hand to gesture toward the seat across from him.

He set his arms, bent at the elbow, on the table in front of him, fingers lacing beneath his chin as he studied the vampire, fingers twisting one of the rings on his opposite hand.

"What is your name?"

Those dark eyes gave him nothing. Not a hint of emotion flickered through them, and Kieran was not sure he would be able to tell even if they did. Still, he found himself drawn to them, his own piercing green gaze focused on them while he waited for the vampire across from him to respond. He was so silent, so still, it was almost like staring at a statue and not an actual living...well, unliving...being.

But a handsome statue at least.

Nope, none of that. He was letting his vision get in his head. While Malkav might have mastered the art of being incredibly still, Kieran was pretty damn good at keeping his own face guarded, hiding his own thoughts and feelings behind typical, brooding features. His smiles never did quite reach his eyes.

His only response to the given name was a blink of his eyes. If he was surprised to hear it, he didn't otherwise let it show, though inwardly his mind was racing. Malkav? The Malkav? He did not know much about him, only that he was no longer the Disciple for the Malkavian vampires, for whatever reason. Kieran's father had been forced to replace many, and Kieran had always assumed it was because the others were all dead, or near enough, trapped in a long torpor.

But here one sat in front of him, obviously neither dead nor asleep.

Interesting.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "Kieran." A small pause, and a light click of his tongue as he studied the man across from him.

"And what business does a former Disciple have here, then? Are you perhaps looking for somebody?" He could feel the smirk forming on his lips, a hint of fang peeking through.

Ah finally, a reaction. If Kieran had blinked he might have missed that briefest hint of frustration that was there just as suddenly as it was gone. He idly wondered what had caused it, and gave the ring on one of his fingers one more spin before he paused to take another long draw on his cigar, waiting a few moments for Malkav to answer his questions. Of course, he felt that he already knew the answers, or at least, who he might have been looking for.

In which case, his only real question should have been why.

He let the flavour of the cigar roll through his mouth once more, managing now to shift his gaze away from those dark eyes, instead focusing on the drink he raised and how he brought it to his lips. Suddenly Kieran was grinning, a wicked, toothy grin, as smoke curled out from the corners of his mouth. The way he said his name had sent a shiver down his spine, but he tried to ignore that.

"Well." He raised his hands and spread his fingers, his gaze snapping back up to the ancient vampire's eyes, "Here I am. Now, what is it I can do for you, Malkav." He practically purred the former Disciple's name, and let out a deep chuckle, as if amused by something. A joke that only he knew the punchline to.

Ah. A curse. Of course that's what it was all about. There was a flash of something in Kieran's gaze then, irritation perhaps? But it only lasted very briefly. His smile fell away, and he chewed on the end of his cigar a little while he regarded the other man, his arms going back to the table, finger tips tapping together a few times before he steepeled them together himself, mirroring Malkav in his movements.

"I do not." He said, his voice flat. "Those little whispers you heard lied to you about that. I only tell prophesies, and though they may seem cursed," a small pause for emphasis, "I had no hand in cultivating them. I just see what I see."

Would that be it, then? He did not want Malkav to leave...

"Would you like to know what I see for you? I am afraid it is not terribly original."

That growl of a voice again. He could not help the way it made him shiver. There was something about Malkav that drew him in, though he wondered how much of that was because of the vision he'd had. Would he find the vampire in front of him so ruggedly attractive if he did not know what the future held? Was this what they called a self-fulfilling prophecy?

"I have already seen it, the moment you stepped into the bar. A romantic connection, or something stronger than just that, fractured and broken." With these words, he reached out a hand, and if Malkav let him, laid his palm gently against his cheek, just as he had seen himself do in the vision.

"A tragic end for a tale of two lovers." He paused then, to let his hand drop back to the table, and to take a puff from his cigar before continuing.

"As I said, not very original. It is a story I have seen unfold countless times before, though they each have their subtleties of course. Sometimes it is a betrayal of trust. Sometimes there is jealousy and murder involved." His lips pulled up into that smirk again.

"Love does not always endure, sadly, despite what many seem to believe. I must say though, Malkav." He said his name with the same deep, throaty purr as before, "You do not strike me as the romantic type."

Considering what Kieran had seen, the parts that he was leaving out that involved himself, he was taking the entire thing extremely well.

The bark of laughter was met with an easy smile, and a look that said oh, you think that this is a joke?, but Kieran said nothing. Not at first. He let the ancient vampire have his moment of feeling incredulous. It was not the first time, and Kieran was quite certain, not the last that someone had met their prophecy with disbelief. But Malkav stopped when Kieran brushed against the side of his face with the palm of his hand, and for a moment, there was only silence between them.

After Kieran had lowered his arm back down to the table, he could have sworn he felt heat on his hand from where he had touched the other vampire. The uncertainty in Malkav's gaze did not go unnoticed, and Kieran finally gave a smooth shrug of his shoulders in response, before replying.

"I can only tell you what I see, and that is what I saw. I did tell you it was not very original." It was true, as far as visions went, Kieran had seen far more interesting.

He could tell that the way he said Malkav's name was having an effect on him, and it gave the much younger vampire a slight, momentary joy to see it. It was not fair if the only one becoming aware of certain feelings was him. Though what came next actually surprised Kieran. When Malkav spoke of lovers, he felt a sharp pang deep inside, and his eyes narrowed slightly around the edge. What was that? Was that...jealousy? He shoved it down, refusing to examine it further.

When Malkav reached forward to tap at his temple, Kieran had to fight the urge to make a grab for his hand. No, instead he allowed it to happen and pretended to be unphased by shifting his gaze away while he took another long drag on his cigar.

"Now why would I bother doing that?" He gave his head a slight shake, lips pursing together. "It is not as though I would have anything to gain from it." He regarded Malkav for a moment and chose to ignore the challenge in his gaze.

"Why are you looking for a curse anyways?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.