Waking up was simple and required no effort, rolling out of bed and putting on fresh clothes was more of a task for the shorter than average height cane weilding vampire. Although he did just so with no actual problems, browsing through his lacking wardrobe Azreil found a close fitting pair of jeans faded blue in color with a green tint that did not hinder his movement more than his agitated extremity already had. He sat back on his bed sighing and looking out the window into the city skyline. It was quite impressive, as humans seemed to do with everything, as well as ugly in a certain sense. He took his left leg and placed it on his right knee carefully and whiped the dust off his foot with one black sock carefully before slipping it on. Repeating with his right foot he turned to his bedside table and picked up the ruby ring "May you rest happily." He spoke his one true morning ritual before kissing it and slipping the ring on his left middle finger.
Azreil only took care about such trivial things as his knee in case he invited a human visitor, not that he was particular about inviting anyone over, he simply prefered to be prepared and on his toes. Adding a few quirks and fake habits was not in any way dificult, it was the daily maintenance of such actions that bored him. He did like getting in touch with his human side every now and again, it was simply unacceptable for him to forget what he was as well as what his purpose was. At times he feared loosing his mind and occasionally took refuge in the thought of developing a pattern. He never took up the same set of habits twice when he moved from place to place. He had owned this house before and took a liking to it, he never did understand why anyone wanted several stories added to their home, it simply took too long to get to the kitchen or bathroom.
Sighing in a audible tone Azreil stood using the momentum to make it to the glass case that housed his bastard sword. Taking it out carefully he sat it on the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a iron box with an old lock set into the lid, and pulled the key from a different drawer. He opened the box leaving the key in the hole, taking out a rustic glass jar and cotton swabs he set them next onto a table. Turning around he lifted the blade and sat down on the high stool next to the table, tuning out the rest of the world his hands moved mechanically oiling his sword and checking it for dullness or rust. After sometime he eyed the blade with scrutiny making sure that his work was satisfactory. Deeming that it was just that he replaced it and the items he had taken from their home.
Azreil threw on a black dress shirt that was cut straight on the bottom and slightly longer in the back, in his mind he double checked for the roll of 1964 quarters and dimes not knowing if they would be handy or not on this day. Physically he checked for his wallet, phone, and keys pleased with each thing in place he went for a hunt. As he had fed more recently he more or less was going for the thrill, as such he began waiting outside of a local boxing gym.
He picked a lean and speedy looking type that was mid twenties to early thirties. I'm his mind he played out the fighting patern from the lanky males gait, also setting his own physical restrictions to appease his sense of sportsmanship. He began to trail the martail artist wondering just when the human would pick up on being trailed. Soon enough the boxers head picked up slightly and turned into an alleyway "Good, good." Azreil said pleased with the hints of bloodlust being picked up.
Cutting into the same alley limping more intentionally Azreil came to a halt and scanned the area "Please do come out, I'd like to declair fisticuffs. Well I suppose this cane would be my fist..." He trailed pondering on how this human would receive his words. Slowly the man came from behind a dumpster, he was shielded by shadows most humans would not be so Azreil noticed him try to peek out a few times unnoticed moments before. Most likely looking for a deadlier weapon than the cane, not finding one he must have complied.
Boxerman must have been dumbfounded as he scratched his head "Kid... what are you doing? Are you put of your mind? What if I had pulled a gun on ya?" He asked a few things with open ridicule.
Azreil shrugged "A bullet is a bullet." He shrugged tapping his bum knee, he was lying of course. That knee had silver rubbed into it to keep it crippled, honestly even if the human knee anything about anything it would still not matter "Now, en gaurd!" He exclaimed rushing with a thrust from his cane. It was batted away easily and counterd with a straight right, Azreil took the hit but rotated his wrist to smack the boxer in the jaw with his cane. "Not every counter is effective." He warned rolling his shoulders.
He dodged two lefts and a right leaning away as apposed to moving his whole body taking the defensive for a moment "Too shallow, too shallow!" He chided. Then he struck the collar bone with a downward swing hearing a painful sound he retreated "Now that sounded rough..." He trailed, suddenly he grew bored and turned around.
"Never turn your back on a live enemy!" The boxer shouted rushed him in anger to which Azreil swing his cane up to his armpit striking the solarplexus.
"I'm sorry, another time I hope." He said with his mind else where, he walked back to the main street and shrugged as he mingeled with the crowd.
