Chapter Text
Scott Goldsmith was a historian by trade, a king by fate, and a mischievous devil by nature. Ever since he was a little lad, he craved for his own place to call his, unbound by laws or basic human dignity. Mostly because he, as the terrible person he was, knew there was no greater joy than holding immense power over the powerless, and as a wish-to-be king, he only associated with those who could fulfill such desires.
He always found it impressive how much he could get away with as a boy, mostly because he always spoke with such confidence nobody actually questioned him. He'd conned people out of vast fortune just because he lied and told them he knew, from his experiences as a historian, the best ways to invest in certain industries, when really, he would just take their money and run.
It always worked, because as he knew from an early age, the rich were idiots. And he had to break that mold, by being the one rich person out there who wasn't completely braindead when it came to all things common sense. He was sensible, and he knew the facts.
Nobody could live forever, nobody could have a legacy that outlasted them, that was the silly junk that people without any worth in life told themselves when going about their day-to-day. Ozymandias was a brilliant poem for a reason, after all, ironic too, because most Europeans had not a clue who the hell Ramses II was, sadly.
Scott would not join those ranks, however, and he needed something far better than mere happiness or a normal kingdom. No, he needed to find a way where all would outlast the rest of the world, not just himself.
And that brought up to Oakhurst. It, to his recollection, was a kingdom back in the 1400s, which fell into ruin after its ruler was sealed inside a coffin by wizards. Ridiculous stuff, obviously, but Scott was nothing if not open-minded! So, figuring a ruined kingdom with magic at its roots would be the best place to create a new, eternal empire, he had set off upon hearing the orders of his father.
Those orders, mind you, were 'please son, don't get yourself killed', but Scott liked to play loosey-goosey with the rules he was handed. And, if he became immortal or something, then boom! No problem! He wouldn't have gotten himself killed, quite the opposite, in fact!
As Scott headed into town, thoughts began to swirl in his head. Namely, those of how he could fix this place up. It was a total dump! And if Scott was to build his new kingdom here, it’d need a few, nay, several, renovations.
Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone! A small group of three was waiting for him at the gate, how fortunate! Servants out the gate, pun intended, were always useful.
“Let me guess, you’re also new.” A ginger stated, but that was obviously stupid. Scott was literally like, a few miles away, that couldn’t constitute being ‘new’. “Nope! Been here for ages, actually!”
That seemed to get the trio’s attention. Good. Perhaps they respected his family’s legacy, though, they were all dressed like they were from the 17th century, so maybe they were just also rich kids? The guy in white robes sure didn’t look the part, though.
“You’re…from here?” The guy, probably a doctor, asked. What was with the questions? Geez, some people didn’t know when to shut up. Like Scott, but not shutting up was always a good thing when he did it.
“Well, not directly, but like, a flight away.” He pointed off in the direction of the castle incidentally, and only mostly because he thought it’d be funny to play royalty. He was about to be, sure, but his parents didn’t need to know that. They thought he was just going on a ‘spiritual retreat’.
That was when something changed. The one in the fanciest clothes, and a headband for some reason, grinned. He had fangs. “Me too, mate!”
Huh. Neither of the other two seemed to care.
“Really? What’s your name?” Martyn puffed out his chest. “Martyn Woodhurst!” Scott rolled his eyes. He was a history major, and he’d never heard of that name before. Unlike his name. “Aw, cute~! The name’s Scott Goldsmith, and it’s a pleasure.”
Thankfully, the trio seemed rather historically inclined as well, for they, while already pretty pale, only seemed to get more blanched. “G-goldsmith….you say?” Martyn gulped.
Scott smirked. “Have you heard of me? I’m rather famous around these parts.” Especially in larger Europe, Scott had made his mark as a master historian, despite only being nineteen. What could he say, he was proud of his heritage.
The doctor bowed his head. “Uhm, er...right, sir.” Sir? Oh, this was gold! He didn’t know the name card was that effective, or else he would’ve been using it a lot more often!
The ginger didn’t seem impressed, though she did seem a bit warier. “I see. Well then, we’re all in the same boat, it seems.” The other two nodded, so Scott decided to join in as well. Always seem like you’re understanding the poor, his mother had told him, because the poor of the world will always be there for you when you need to rise up against a bigger threat.
His father had promptly scolded his laughing mother for telling him that, but that was irrelevant. “Now that we’re all on the same page, I must ask, why is this place in such poor shape? My kingdom has certainly seen better days…”
The three looked off to the side in unison, it was almost impressive. “Right, well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the massacres?” Scott nodded, because he had. It was actually why he chose this place to make his kingdom in the first place, since he thought, assuredly, there had to be pilgrims desperate to find belonging. It was actually a rather common phenomenon, where those who experienced great tragedy in their lineage would return to the scene. And Scott sought to weaponize that.
“Naturally. The Goldsmiths caused one of them, I’m sure you’re aware.” A bit of an unfortunate part of history, where one of his great, great, great-something grandmothers had starved the population for defying her. Girlboss, honestly.
Martyn nodded, but Scott was getting tired of the awkward silence. “But moving that to the side, who are all of you? I’m curious who’s stomping around on my grounds, after all~!” Martyn froze up again, before the doctor put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand you’re far older than us, but please sir, try to have mercy?”
Older...that was another hint towards a resolution Scott wasn’t quite sure he liked all too much. Because frankly, he didn’t look a day over fifteen, thanks to his impeccable skin routine. “Of course, fledgelings.” He was testing the waters now, because he had a sinking inkling on what was going on here, and unfortunately, none of them seemed off put by it.
Uh oh. He was in a town with vampires. Wait! He was rich, he never faced consequences for his actions! Nevermind, this was totally fine. The ginger interjected. “Cleo, 594.” five hundred ninety four? Now that was an impressive skin routine. Of course, being immortal was totally cheating, but still. What would be a cool age?
“Er, I already said my name, but uh, yeah. Martyn Woodhurst, and uh, I think I’m 107?” Cleo rolled their eyes. “Sure act like it.” Legundo put out a hesitant hand in front of the two. “Please, stop fighting. I’m Legundo Dos, 644.”
Jesus, these guys were old. Did they even know what a telephone was? Well, Scott couldn’t mention anything like that from this point on, it’d be far too obvious he was a liar. Luckily, he was born with a few medical conditions, namely albinism, which he hid with blue dye and contacts, that would make this whole thing a lot easier.
“Scott Goldsmith, as I’m sure you’re all aware, and I’ve got nineteen on me.”
“Y-you’re...a thousand and nine hundred?” Scott shrugged, holding in a laugh. Was that how they interpreted that? Hilarious! “I can just never keep track, you know? It gets awfully confusing after living through so much.”
Legundo nodded, as Cleo frowned. “Well, that’s reasonable, I suppose. In either case, it seems we’ve all be drawn here, for one reason or another.” It was Martyn’s turn to frown, now. “But why would four vampires be suddenly brought here?”
Cleo raised a finger and tutted. “Not four. There’s more of us. I wasn’t sure if I was the only one, but given the...unique sample we’ve got here, I’m starting to think there might be more of us.”
“More?”
Cleo groaned. “Yes, there’s a bunch of lunatics. It’s what dissuaded me from calling them vampires, seeing as how they seemingly have never experienced anything before. One’s after Bigfoot or what have you, the other-”
Speak of the devil, a butler appeared from nowhere, very vampire-like, followed by two younger fellows in a green vest and monocle respectively, effectively cutting off Cleo’s continued verbal barrage. Both were tacky as all hell. Scott would need to fix their fashion before he entrusted them to have any say in the interior design of his castle.
“Hi! Hi! Uhm, hi?” The green-vested guy sputtered, already failing at being human. Which, Scott supposed, made a bit of sense. Scott decided to greet the both of them. “Hello~! Lovely to see such fine folk here with us! Perhaps you’re locals?” He ended his sentence with a wink, making both flush, but especially the guy in the vest.
“O-oh, you’re uhm, uh, really pretty, and, uh-” The girl in the monocle interjected. “Uhm, n-no, to answer your question. We’re not. I’m guessing none of you are?”
A casual conversation struck up, Scott ensuring he was at the center of it all, naturally, and using that, he determined a few things. One, Avid McAvid, a stupid name by the way, was the vested one, and was hilariously easy to manipulate. He had a partner, apparently, but that never stopped Scott before, so who gave a damn?
Two, the monocled girl, Drift Infinite, a fantastic name, was also weak to flattery, but was apparently a detective. Coincidentally, she also had a long history of solving cold cases, and was tracking down a serial killer, and had been for a while. Gee, Scott wondered where that plot point was going.
Three, the butler, Abolish Regrets, probably a pseudonym, was a “humble, history seeking butler”, which was quite possibly the worst possible lie one could come up with. At least Drift sold hers with confidence! Of course, it was a practiced bad lie, so Scott suspected this one was likely the servant of one of the other vampires, or was some count vampire or something. Either way, Scott really didn’t care. After all, a butler free of charge was always welcomed!
And fourth and finally, they were all vampires. Honestly, Scott could do a better job pretending to be human, and he knew that because he was currently doing that! Sure, he was actually human, but he had discreetly pulled Cleo and Legundo aside, and explained that maybe not telling these guys they were vampires was for the best, to which both of them completely agreed.
Scott was so good at this, it was a little saddening. Surely, they could tell by his still-beating heart that he wasn’t a vampire, right? Well, he was sure that conclusion would have been come to, if he hadn’t explained to both of them a good way of disguising themselves as human was to “fake a heartbeat”, to which he completely made up some stuff on how to do that.
Somehow, it worked, and Legundo and Cleo now sported ‘working hearts’, for absolutely no reason, much to Scott’s amusement. He’d get the others in on it too, of course, but that was for later, when he needed to hold it over them to get them to do what he wanted.
As the slowly growing group continued to talk, however, more people began to pour in. One, specifically, by the name of Shelby.
“Uh, hey there!” She had approached him personally, a bold move, seeing how not-rich she looked. “Hello~, are you the one with the big feet?” She giggled at his joke, her yellow eyes glistening. You know, like normal human eyes. “No, no, I’m looking for Bigfoot! I know monsters are real, after all!”
“You do? Why?” Scott meant it as a tease of course, before recalling that Shelby hadn’t known he was a vampire, which he wasn’t, but she still jolted nonetheless. “O-oh, uhm, you know, because, uhm, my dad, he uh, got taken by one.” Another girl, Pearl, Scott was pretty sure, yipped in response. “Oh, for real? Me too! My whole family was killed!”
Wow, way to drop that on them.
Similar unwanted exposition came from the rest, including how Mystical Sausage was writing a book about his ‘unique experiences’, Jack von Pyroscythe was banished from his coven, which he proceeded to stumble over the word for a full five seconds, eventually settling on ‘family’. One guy, Renheart Dogmoon, even covered up his long fangs with a fake lisp and accent, a truly impressive feat.
Honestly, these people were such terrible liars, it was easy to blend in. When it came time for Scott’s backstory sharing, he minced no words. “An awful man, you see, has been hunting me for years, for my ties to, ah, certain hobbies of mine. I’m sure my natural good looks and amazing personality has nothing to do with it, either.”
That got some laughs out of some people, which was good. A king everyone could like was always appreciated. Fortunately, another was herded by the laughter, as another redhead in old French military garb. A soldier vampire, huh? That could be…very useful, in making a kingdom. She looked depressed though, so that might be an issue.
“Oh. Who are you guys?” She also sounded depressed, so that sounded like someone Scott could emotionally torment into submission! Fun!
“The name’s Scott Goldsmith, lovely to meet you!” The woman stilled, before bowing. “Apo Kuna. Uhm, I was discharged from the army, and went here first. This, ah…used to be a military outpost. I’m just visiting.”
“Hi there! Are you, uh, alone?” It was almost cute watching everyone stumble around trying to sound out if the rest of them were vampires. Only Martyn, Cleo, Legundo, and maybe Apo recognized the name, but if it was something interesting, Scott had no clue. What’s more, he found it curious there was no visible reaction from quite a few of the others. Abolish definitely seemed to know, though, but he didn’t react.
Thankfully, that would help him sort out a timeline by the end of the week, so he could actually attack these people based on historical events happening around them, and chastise them for not helping.
“So! Is that everyone?” Legundo asked, only to be met with a resounding. “No.” Not from the group, mind you, but from a strange man who stumbled into the gates, dressed in the clothes of a lumberjack, with a cross hanging from his neck.
Oh. Oh this was peak comedy right here. Because based on the wary look in his eye, the cross around his neck, and the fact Scott could see an indeterminate amount of silver weapons and a noose, this was a witch hunter.
“Who are you?” Sausage murmured, as the man gave a salute. “Owen Gejuice, Witchfinder General. I’m here to investigate for possible demonic activity in the area..”
Even better! A witchfinder general, the most puritanical and fun-to-mess-with kind, in a town full of vampires. And Scott.
Naturally, Scott approached first, smiling wide, showing off his normal teeth, in a place where he knew no one else could do the same. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, friend. I just came here as a travelling historian, so please, regale me with your tales of victory, if you’d be so kind?”
Owen nodded solemnly, with a small look of satisfaction in his eyes. A satisfaction Scott was sure he could twist and turn into a weapon, should the others ever try to bite him. “Of course. And the rest of you?”
As introductions struck up again, including the whole town now, and as no one else seemed to be coming, Scott confirmed these people in his mind. Twelve vampires. A king in the making. And a demon hunter. Despite loving how this was going, he had to admit, he didn’t quite know where this would end.
Either way, one thing was for certain.
This would be so much fun.