⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Once dormant olivine eyes blink open slowly and steadily, taking a moment or two to come into focus even a bit. Monotonous whirring floods into ears that had not heard a sound for years on end. The clicking of gears fitting into one another like pieces of a puzzle and turning many mechanisms of one system fills the small, dusty room. A cloudy, cool grey light filters in through the broken window panes, leaving dappled patches of shadow on the floor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Marcel knew there was someone else in the room there with him. He had known since he first started regaining consciousness after such a long time being asleep. He wanted to see whoever had woken him, but his eyes were still trying to adjust to everything. And so was he, he admitted to himself. It had been at least twenty years or so since he last operated normally, much longer than usual. That was his own fault, really, for trusting a child to keep him running. He figured she'd grow bored of him, but at least somewhere better suited than an abandoned house in a secluded section of forest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Finally, after maybe a minute of impatient waiting, he can start to see a figure come into focus in front of him. The person looks like a rather thin teenage boy, around his own age he presumes, with an expression that is like amazement, confusion, and shock all at once. His pointed ears poke through pale blonde hair that curls a bit in the front. His pale ash face is speckled with a few dots of light under his eyes, enhancing the curious twinkle in their hazel irises.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'Not too shabby,'  he thinks to himself, slightly raising an eyebrow.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Are- Are you alive...?"  the other boy mutters, unblinking. Marcel was waiting for that question to come up eventually.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taking in a quick breath, he closes his eyes and nods his head tiredly.  "Yes, I am indeed alive...now,"  he answers, smiling at the confused teenager standing a few feet away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Cool..."  the boy whispers, the corner of his lip curving into an astonished smirk.  "Uh...w-what's your name?"  His eyes were wide like a child's.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Marcel Larsen."  Marcel stands upright rather awkwardly, leaning over in a slight bow. His wooden limbs are still rather stiff and hard to move, but it's nothing he can't handle.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"I-I'm Rowan Ashton Meirion Griffith!"  replies the other boy, returning the bow. "Ah, but you can just call me Rowan," he adds, a shy smile lighting his face.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Pleasure to meet you," Marcel smiles back.  "So, I take it you're curious, about me?"  he asks, looking wonderingly at Rowan.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sheepishly, the boy nods his head and looks to Marcel with a look of fascination glittering in his eyes.  "Uh, yes, please. If it isn't too much trouble."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Chuckling, Marcel shakes his head.  "Of course it isn't. Besides, you're going to need to know some things if you want to help me." He lets out a quick sigh, stretches, and fumbles with his fingers.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"So... I'm pretty much a human wind-up toy. But you already know that. Y'see, it's kind of a curse - but don't worry, it's nothing bad," he starts, waving his hands in front of him. "I was gonna die young, but of course I didn't want to die. So, I was told I could live longer on one condition - this. Being a living, breathing toy. See, the only thing is that I need the crank on my back to be turning in order to be conscious, and I can't do that on my own..." He reaches to turn it, but his body gets a rather violent jolt the moment his finger touches the decorated brass. Shaking himself and putting a hand on his forehead, he continues, "or that pleasant thing happens."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Tilting his head, Rowan raises an eyebrow at him. "So, what you're saying is you need me to turn it for you...?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Folding his arms behind his head, Marcel smiles and nods.  "If you wouldn't mind~"  His voice was persuasive and smooth, and the red paint on his cheeks almost shimmered in the drifting light.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Smirking dumbly, Rowan nods back at him. "Alright, alright. I'd be happy to help." He holds his thin hand out for the other boy to shake, an eyebrow raised in interest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Grabbing his outstretched hand, Marcel gives it a firm tug and lets out a relieved sigh.  "Lovely. I was hoping I wouldn't have to spend another few years in a dusty old shack."  He chuckles lightly, glancing back to Rowan and noticing a bag on his back.  "Ah, what do you have there?"  he asks, pointing his finger at it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"O-Oh!"  Rowan exclaims.  "Ah, well, I'm kind of a wanderer, really."  He smiles shyly and taps his hands on his thighs.  "Don't freak out on me, please...but I'm kind of a vampire...? But it's okay! I don't drink real blood! It's all synthetic!"  Stopping for a moment to take a breath, he then continues,  "My parents were more of nobility, you could say... I was the runt, and I guess they just thought that would tarnish their name. But it's alright, I'm much happier off on my own!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Marcel raises his eyebrows and mutters,  "Huh. I've met some interesting characters before, but never a vampire."  Speaking up more, he slaps a hand on Rowan's shoulder.  "Well, you and me, two misfits in an unforgiving world, are going to get along splendidly!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Right!"  Rowan agrees, hopping up a bit in his excitement.  "So, what next? Where do we go now?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"I'll let you decide! You seem like you'd know your way around."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Ha, you have too much faith in me. Honestly, I just stumbled upon this place. I never have a plan for where I'm going next."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Well, that's quite alright! We can find the way together!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Yeah!"