"Sometimes I feel like I'm phoning it in. Almost as if my heart isn't in it anymore. I'm just doing the job, because I committed to it. Like, there's no real tangible benefit in this for me anymore. I've gone as far as I possibly can with this. I know some people make a ton of money, get a big house, live comfortably but a lot of that is luck. Like, I've got the skill to compete with anyone. But a big part of success is luck and location but people don't want to acknowledge that," the thin man with wispy hair rambled.

"Dude, everyone at this party is a vampire or thrall, we know how you feel," a young woman interrupts him.

"I have been in my lord's service since before you were born," he stops her.

"But you're complaining about things you can't change. You're so old that if you're released, you'll probably turn to dust. So just keep hanging around, unless you're ready to die. You're old, you had your chance and you failed to take it," her words cup deep.

Elsewhere, in a small corner a thrall sat lovingly next to his master watching as she stroked a cat's fur gently. She was a new vampire, shy and didn't have any real thralls. She had made this man a thrall by accident. He was her boyfriend, and when she was turned, she wanted to make sure he could spend eternity with her as well. She did what she could remember, and in the end she ended up with a thrall instead of a vampire, but this worked. He could go out in the day and work, they could spend the evenings together and she could do vampire things at night.

"I remember you, you piece of shit," a drunken vampire called out in a thick Southern United States accent jamming his fingers into the chest of another man.

"What," the accosted man asked in confusion. 

"You killed my brother," our Southern Gentleman continued. "In the war!"

"I assure you I have not been in a war for some time," he responded in a modern accent, yet full of old class.

"You were one of those damn Yankee soldiers in The War of Northern Aggression," he continued to yell.

"Well, I probably did kill your brother, and he was probably a drunken piece of shit, same as you all were then, same as you are now," he spit on the ground and calmly walked away as several thrall's tried to hold back an old and powerful vampire.

In the backyard, several vampires had gathered to get high, or as high as their vampire bodies would allow them to. They casually did heroin and meth only to be back to normal in a few minutes. For them, it wasn't addictive, just a quick reminder that they were once human. Vampire bodies processed the toxins so quickly there was no point other than some brief hi jinx. If they were really wanting to get high, there were drugs for that. Drugs that could make a vampire think they were dancing with the moon. 

Alarms sounded off through the mansion, watches, cell phones, pagers, actual alarm clocks and more. Sunrise would begin in the next few hours. For almost all of the vampires here, that meant it was time to get home before the sun would turn them to dust.

One last vampire sat in the pool, moon bathing in the nude unbothered by all of this. After living for hundreds of years most vampires no longer hold the normal view of nudity. However in his case, he just enjoyed showing off, he always had, even when the Bubonic Plague was slaughtering his homeland. He laughed as they scurried to their transportation in an effort to get home. 

"Master come inside before you roast," the old man with wispy hair called out to him.

"Yeah yeah, I'm on my way."

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