Chapter 4 Rowan
FOUR
ROWAN
What Makes a Vamp Man?
Hello there! Not sure what I’m looking for here-
Rowan’s the name and cardigans are my game!
I don’t know what I’m doing so I hope you do…
I groaned and put my arm over my eyes, which appreciated the break from the bright screen.
I didn’t have the same exceptional night vision as most vampires, but I also had even worse light vision than the average undead being—an unfortunate side effect of my pinkish, purplish irises that lacked almost all their melanin.
I wasn’t a technophobe and certainly wasn’t technologically illiterate like some of the other magical centenarians I knew, though I wouldn’t exactly call myself comfortable with the latest and greatest trends.
Not to mention the never-ending stream of slang that was a side effect of society constantly moving and growing.
So, while I wanted a bio that was true to myself, I also didn’t want to sound like a fuddy, heavy on the duddy.
Frustrating.
I stared at the screen some more, trying to whittle down everything about myself down to a commercial-like paragraph to convince people I was worth a chunk of their very limited time.
“Brammy-boy,” I murmured, looking to where my orange advisor was lounging in the clear bowl of his cat tree.
That was one of my favorite resting spots for him, if only because the transparent material allowed me to take all sorts of hilariously cute pictures of his feet, belly, or loaf.
Now, if there was one part of my smart phone I was very confident in, it was using the camera.
And yes, my storage was dominated by photos of my cat, but it was only because I had already commissioned a professional painting of him when he was two.
Just like every cat I’d had since I was fifty.
“What would you say my best traits are?”
“Eeekekkkeeeek!”
“I don’t think catnip dealer has quite the appeal you think it does.”
“Merrp!”
“I’m sure.”
I liked to think of myself as an honest person, so it felt disingenuous to be tricking a human.
And what was my end goal? To just hide that I was a vampire forever?
Eventually, they’d wonder about my rather intense garlic allergy and inability to go outside during the day.
Having the excuse of working nights would only be viable for so long.
But maybe, just maybe, it was okay to be a bit duplicitous this once and not worry so much about the far future.
Even if it was only a handful of dates, or even a couple of new friends, that couldn’t be a bad thing, right?
With Ibrahim long gone, I was more acutely aware of my solitude than ever, and although I had Iko and was incredibly grateful for him, I was craving more.
Perhaps that was what I should lead with. Feeling newly inspired, my thumbs flew across the screen.
Greetings! My name is Rowan, and I’m a bit of an old soul in what feels like an even older body. I prefer live music over bar hopping, and a good vinyl over a flashy car. Creature comforts are my middle name!
Actually, that’s a lie. But you’ll have to earn my trust to find out my real middle name.
I’ve never done anything like this, but it seems ever harder to find a genuine connection despite the world having more ways to connect than ever. It’s a bit lonely, sometimes. Even if nothing romantic is on the table, companionship and adventure is more than welcome!
There. That was as simply as I could put it without giving too much away.
And technically, I wasn’t lying because I didn’t say I was a human.
It was just that anyone I matched with would assume I was.
After all, as far as Homo sapiens knew, they were the only real sentient society running around on Earth.
Now, onto the questions! I practically crowed to myself, feeling pretty accomplished. It seemed that human technology was a bit more streamlined than the scrying magic that worked through my phone, and I appreciated that. Whatever could make the whole process easier was good in my book.
Are you a dreamer?
Was I?
I closed my eyes and tried to give it serious thought. Once, I would have said yes. But that was before I was changed into something different. A creature that went to bed as the sun rose only to awaken instantly once it set. No dreaming. No sense of paused time. It was barely a snap to my mind.
I missed dreaming like I used to when I was a young man in the dry lands of my home. Walking through worlds that didn’t exist and memories that were just to the left. A heavy price to pay for immortality.
But I knew the question wasn’t literal. But metaphorically, was I one?
I supposed I was. After all, how many times did I daydream (hah, daydream) about what it would be like to be accepted with open arms by a coven? What it would be like to be cherished, to have others who looked forward to seeing me and thought of me when I wasn’t around?
Perhaps I was more of a dreamer than I’d thought.
Yes, I typed. I lingered on my answer for a bit, but eventually moved on.
What is your love language?
Love language? Was that shorthand for my favorite tongues? That was kind of neat.
I am fond of English, as it’s quite the quirky one, but I also have a classic sort of appreciation for Latin, Arabic, and a growing interest in ASL.
Were there a lot of polyglots on the app?
It made sense. While magical communities tended to be incredibly insular among themselves—likely a consequence of having to keep so hidden—humans tended to mix and merge together in an amazing blend of cultures.
Sure, there were bad actors who wanted to hurt anyone different, but humans had invented the term “melting pot” to describe themselves, and honestly, what a charming and accurate phrase.
Do you want children?
I put my phone down. That wasn’t a question I’d ever asked myself. Before Ibrahim had passed, I’d never had interest in siring any heirs of my own. And once he had moved on… Well, it was all complicated and mixed up in so many different issues that I just didn’t want to think of it.
Child free by choice.
Was that overly simplistic? Perhaps. But it was as deep as I was willing to go into it for strangers to read on the internet.
Toilet paper under or over?
Bidet!
The Lady or the Tiger?
Oh, that was published before I was born. Talk about a classic!
Neither, because I would never do something to be put in that situation. #CheatingIsCringe
Did I use that hashtag right? I had learned about “cringe” a couple of months earlier, and while far too many people seemed to use it as a way to shame anyone who was enthusiastic or having fun, I liked when it was describing something actually a bit embarrassing and mentally painful.
You’re being arrested! What’s the charge?
Being an accomplice to a CAT burglar, I answered, feeling kind of proud of that one.
Realistically, it would be for drinking blood from someone, but we’d come a long way from hunting people in the night and glamouring them not to remember being fed on.
Another perk of the internet and scrying network was that it made finding people who were not only willing but very enthusiastic about donating blood to vamps a whole lot easier.
Are you a morning person or an evening person?
Hahahahaha! Oh, if only they knew. Well, time to lay the groundwork for my nocturnal nature.
I work nights, so neither, really. I wake up when the sun sets and go to bed when it rises.
There, as honest as I could be without endangering myself or my people.
What would you do for a Klondike bar?
Oh dear. Now, as a vampire, my only real diet was blood.
But I was physically capable of eating, drinking, and passing human nourishment.
Most vampires preferred not to, because the taste wasn’t what they were craving, but I didn’t mind.
Sure, all the flavors were different from when I was a human with human senses, but I still enjoyed it from time to time.
I’ve got a lot of allergies, so I’d just buy one for you to enjoy!
Do you believe there is a reason that we are here, a predetermined fate laid out for everyone on earth, or that there is no set path and ultimately life ends in nothingness?
Well, that was kind of a lot. I thought about typing out my own personal philosophy, but then I reminded myself that this was a dating app, so I skipped it instead.
Going into a diatribe about predeterminism and life ending while being immortal probably wouldn’t be conducive to coming across like a normal man. A normal human man.
Pineapple on pizza?
More food questions.
Lactose intolerant but why yuck someone else’s yum? If you enjoy it, I’m happy!
I was starting to lose steam, so I nearly closed my phone, but then I saw the next question.
Do you believe in the supernatural?
How was that for burying the lede? Chuckling to myself, I tried to think of something clever. But even though it was early in the evening, I found my brain sputtering out. So I went simple:
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of being magical.
Let whoever eventually read that take it how they wanted. As for me, I was satisfied.
For the second time I went to close the app, but before I could, images of fireworks and sparkles burst across my screen.
ByChance, how about a PERFECT match to start you off?
“A perfect match, huh?” I mused after rolling my eyes. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in that statement, and yet I clicked on it and let the photo unblur.
Oh.
I suddenly found myself staring at the heart-shaped face of a stunning woman, her jade-green eyes blazing brightly from under her red bangs.
Even though I could only see her shoulders and the tiniest hint of the swell of her breasts, I could tell she had a strong form.
No doubt an athlete of some sort, and a gorgeous one at that.
Swiping through her photos, I grew more and more intrigued as I saw her have black, blonde, pink, and even green hair in different images.
And just as I had guessed, her full body pics revealed that while she was quite petite height-wise, she was solid.
She had to play softball or lacrosse if I had to guess.
Maybe I was putting too much into her hair choice, but I couldn’t help but think that she seemed fun.
And earnest. There was something to her smile that pulled me in.
So, I accepted the match. After all, what was the worst that could happen?