In an upscale room, somewhere with dark, rich furnishings, a man snarled at his reflection. He was back to being amongst the cream of the crop, though he still bore bitterness from the failed attempt on his life. Anger at both himself and his would-be murderer angered him, and his reflection seemed to agree. The reflection showed an angry, determined, distinguished man; while it could be said that he was all of these things, the only thing the reflection did not show, was that he’d been made a fool.
Alaric Kaufmann was no one’s fool. Standing up and then straightening his tie, he moved away from the mirror towards a desk, beginning to go over the reports that had been left for him. He’d done a great deal of catching up on what he’d missed as far as how the world had moved on in the last couple centuries, but it wasn’t until recently he’d felt ready to return to the spotlight, so to speak.
As he came across a legal document, he happened to catch the logo and scowled. Could it be the rival he’d nearly destroyed before his untimely torpor? Or just a coincidence? To be certain, he called one of his lackeys to have them look into it. If it was who he thought it might be, he would seek to try and destroy that which he’d very nearly accomplished. It gave him a goal, after all.
After learning it was his old enemy, Alaric spent the next few decades, quietly trying to usurp him in this modern world. Slowly, he built up obstacles rather than choose to compete in a political or legal manner. Instead, he joined forces with the Giovanni, trading a long owed boon here, and another there, to gain a foothold in the financial world. He had no interest in amassing as much as possible – he wanted to live in a style he felt he deserved, and work to dismantle anyone named Decacious as subdued as possible. Once his financial foothold was established, he began meandering in circles of all kinds, and would plant subtle, but plausible rumors. After a time, he might embellish them a little here, a bit there. The goal, after all, was to discredit him. With luck, he could sever ties with allies, and make other foundations a little shaky.
It was only recently that he learned that his would-be murderer was in an alliance with his enemy – likely a ghoul, but he couldn’t be certain. He was angered by this on an unprecedented level, feeling as though it were a violation of his person on several levels. It would be a simply enough affair to summon the traitor and torture her, but once he calmed he chose to bide his time. How fond Brandon was of her was an unknown factor at this point, so if he acted now, there was no telling how he might retaliate. Choosing to break her somehow…ah, now there was an idea. Quietly, he reached out to contact some people he knew to see what could be done. Perhaps a nightmare plague to start? Or locking her away in her own mind, forced to relive choice moments as she traversed the labyrintine landscape in order to find her way out? It was all so enticing.