It was chilly again tonight. At least, Roderick thought he felt a chill. Looking at it hand, the faint shake in it was a human reaction to the cold to generate warmth. But did he actually feel the cold? Or was it another one of the echos from when he was alive. "This new life, if we could call it that, is one that takes a long while to adjust to. But it's not like we aren't used to it, right Ricky?" The old soldier looks to his friend for a while, quiet as always. He was a good listener like that.

"Ya. We had to adjust from the time as children to our lives as men when we went to boot camp. Then we became warriors when we were selected to head to Ranger Training. I wonder though, were you the lucky one? I feel in love with being a soldier, I stuck it out for as long as they would let me. You came in when I was on the tail end of that, fresh out of training and sent to the sands of Afghanistan. But damn if you weren't the best gernader I ever saw. All I had to do was point to a hole and you would make it in one."

Roderick laughed for a moment before letting out a sigh, "But you weren't meant for the long haul like I was. You had places to go, using the Army as a spring board for college and then got a fancy mark on your resume to get you into a big name job. I come back after being.. 'Honorably Discharged', they called it. And you got yourself a fancy house up on the hill, a loving wife and a few kids of your own. You got the dream. Me? I couldn't hold a proper civi job. I don't have PTSD like the guys at the Vet Hospital, but I wasn't one for the peaceful life. And I sure as hell wasn't going to take a handout, no offense to you and yours. So, I went out to find my battles on the street and worked just long enough to get me by when there was no one's ass to kick."

"That's how I got myself where I am now," the old soldier said, his voice a mix of sadness, regret, but with happiness as well. "All thanks to.. Miyako." He savored the taste of her name for a moment before going on. "You would have liked her. Maybe she might of even taken your attention away from your misses for just a moment. She wasn't a soldier like me, but she had a fire in her that burned just as brightly. She said she preferred to dance and socialize. But you wouldn't think it when you see her jump on a guy's back and break his neck with her thighs." After a moment, he added, "She's the one that breathed new life into me.. Figuratively speaking."

Reaching down, Roderick picked up a brown paper bag that he had placed next to his foot and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "I already told you about all that. Vampire, supernatural powers, that night in LA, yada yada. I won't bore you by repeating it. It's just taking time to adjust to, just like before. Boy to man, man to warrior, warrior to old fart looking for a fight.. old fart to Lord of the Night. But don't think it's all slave girls and blood wine! I'm no Dracula or Nosferatu.. The movie character, not the clan. Not that you have a have a clue about that movie, whippersnapper." Roderick laughed until it slowly died out.

There was a long moment where all that could be heard was the wind though the trees and the faint sounds of the city before he spoke again. "I had to feed before I came here. I wanted to be clear headed, sate the beast, before I tried to talk to you. Found a woman being mugged and I broke the mugger's nose. She started thanking me, asking if there was anything she could do. I know where your mind is going, but we didn't even step out of the alley way before I took what I wanted from her. A meal." Roderick popped the lid off of the whiskey and takes a long smell of it before continuing. "Don't worry, I used her cell and her finger to dial 911, left it there after it started ringing, and stayed near there until I heard the sirens. She should be fine."

Looking up at the half moon, Roderick signed again. "Time to wrap this up. Thanks for listening to my woes. Here's your payment." Roderick smiled, the amber liquid flowing out of the bottle as he poured it out. The moonlight making a beautiful sight in the drink as it splashed against the stone. Flowing down the sharp angles of the cross. As it flowed down, a few beads slipped into the recesses of the stone, filling in the letters and numbers that marked it. Roderick let it the bottle empty out on the marker, making sure to give it a few shakes to make sure it was empty. "Don't worry about me none, the smell is enough now."

A chill wind blew, reflexively making Roderick pull his coat in. "Hell of the way to start off the New Year." He caught himself then, his brow furrowing and his fists tightening. "No.. This ain't no goddamn new year. You remember how much I hate the idea of the New Year being in the middle of winter! How are we supposed to celebrate the coming new when everything is dead and cold?! I'll say it again, Ricky, this isn't the beginning. This is the end of Roderick the wandering old fart who goes looking for a fight and stabs brats because they are too stupid to drop the blade and because I'm too stubborn to take it like a man!"

Roderick wasn't shaking anymore. He wasn't breathing on reflex. His body was as cold as the night and he savored it. "Come the Spring is the New Year for Roderick Pearson. You watch from Heaven, Hell or whatever is on the other side. Come the next Winter, I won't be a simple soldier. I'm shooting for General now! I'm going to be a leader among Kindred. I'll make her proud, just you watch."

Spinning on his heel, a proud Kindred departed the graveyard. As dead as his body is, his eyes burned with a purpose.