Might seem like a rather question but it seems a lot of people aren't fond of these two actors, much for the same reasons. They both find themselves together on the same types of internet lists and whatnot. Personally, I like the two of them and think they have potential but have just been given bad roles/scripts. Any thoughts on them?
The Dark Lord could sustain long-term flight in his gaseous state some what easily, though it was a mode of travel...not a way to retreat. He was an apex predator, a man who's mere stories and name used to be enough to terrify people and make them submit. He was not afraid of combat. He was not a coward. He was Count Dracula.
As he propelled himself upwards towards the sky, with the changing emotions - his darker and rage filled emotions beginning to blanket the previous self-reflecting mindset, he redirected his smokey-self back towards the rooftops. Propelling himself with great fury, he rocketed towards the nearest roof top; his black sublimated body looking like a crashing comet. As his body came within a few feet of the roof, his body returned to its solid appearance once more; the force at which he struck the roof cause small cracks beneath his feet. Standing up, he glared his eyes as he waited for the two humans to arrive.
The Fallen Elf could sense them coming; their scents, the sound of their movements and blood pumping through their veins. His fists clenched tightly as his eyes became focused with rage. He had laid low long enough, trying to cover his tracks and remain hidden like a common sewer rat. Count Dracula was a King, the bane of the Elvish race and the thing of human nightmares.
The Count of Darkness pulled at his suit, straightening it against his rigid and toned frame and flicked small amounts of dust from the thighs of his trousers. As he attempted to exit the situation and scene of the crime, he scanned the area quickly with narrowed eyes. It had appeared nobody had witnessed the sudden and violent flash of conflict which had resulted in a fatality. His facial appearance had returned to its normal state - the fangs and demonic appearance was a temporary affect spiked by the sudden act of aggressiveness.
Valken attempted to set off again but was halted in his tracks before he even laid his boot down to complete a single step away from the scene. A fashionably clad man had arrived, sporting a thick moustache, questioning the dead body beyond the Dark Lord without hesitation. As his mouth edged open to produce his first set of words, his ears caught the sound of another individual approaching. The scent identified her as a female, and the method of her approach seemed to indicate she was confident in her arrival on the scene. A steady, firm heartbeat combined with the following, assertive sentence confirmed that suspicion.
He was in no mood to answer questions from these oddly confident humans. Their scent alone gave away their genetic heritage. The confidence was slightly off-putting - he had not expected it. They were hiding something as he was. But this was no time for show and tell. Quickly, the Dark Lord began to bring in a crawling, low lying fog which snaked its way between the feet of the two new humans. At first it was shallow and would be easy to penetrate with the human. It's density began to increase, and the height of it rose to his upper torso, beginning to engulf the small alleyway.
In a similar manner to how he had attacked the drunk hunchback, the Count of Darkness phased his body back to the black cloud form and pushed himself upwards towards the sky and out of the reaches of the fog which he had commanded.
It was still an odd thing, to not be able to freely venture out in to the bright of day. Even after all these years. Sure, he could bring a thick overcast of clouds to darken the skies, but it was far from the same. The sun reminded him of his beloved from many years past. Ironically, he represented the darkness to that which he was now condemned.
The Dark Lord was passing through the dark alleys which penetrated all throughout the city like an erratic maze. He preferred them to the streets. Shadows were easily found in there and all but scum typically avoided them. Crowds tempted his exquisite taste for human blood to the point it nearly drove him to frenzy which, for now he sought to prevent.
From behind him sounded a gruff voice, "Turn around a**hole. You're dressed to fancy to be in this area of town." Slowly the Count spun on his heal to face the man. He glanced down at his obsidian suit; he definitely was out of place compared to the tattered man with a terrible hunchback before him. A small pistol was aimed at the Dark Lord, the hand visibly shaking.
Valken could smell this alcohol permeating from his breath; a wolf-like nose was not needed to sense such a stench. He watched as beads of sweat ran down his brow, his eyes heavily bloodshot and the heavy beating of his pathetic heart was clearly audible. This man's blood would taste terrible. The idea of drinking it repulsed the Dark Lord. As he heard the small squeak of the trigger being depressed from the slightest amount of pressure, his body seemed to sublimate nearly instantaneously to a thick black cloud that propelled itself at the gun-wielding drunk.
As the violent, and directed onyx cloud was about the meet the man, the First Vampire re-materialised and grabbed the throat of the disabled robber in one swift motion, snapping it in succession. The last thing that poor excuse of a man saw was such an ungodly sight. So fear inducing, that his face still showed pure horror as his body slumped to the ground.