Marcel, in a sharp tuxedo, scans the room filled with masked attendees while sipping a glass of blood-red wine.
"Hey, brother. I see you're still rocking that Armani suit."
Marcel chuckles and glances around the room. "You know me, always fashion-forward. But enough about my wardrobe choices, my dear. I've got something bigger on my mind."
Marcel's eyes gleam with a mischievous glint as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone.
grinning mischievously "My dear FightRob, I've heard tales of a certain powerful artifact hidden within the depths of this city - an ancient tome bound in human skin, adorned with cryptic symbols and whispering dark incantations. They say it holds the key to unimaginable power, the ability to control the very fabric of fate itself."
"A powerful artifact, huh? And why is that something you should care about?"
narrows his eyes, leaning in even closer "Because, my dear FightRob, I have my sights set on nothing less than reclaiming this city and ruling with an iron fist.
"And how do you plan on doing that?"
leans back, smirking "Why, by wielding the power of the ancient tome, of course.
"That's a tall order, even for someone like you."
Marcel raises an eyebrow, his voice dripping with confidence. "Oh, I know it's a tall order, my dear FightRob. But you forget, we Mikealson siblings are not just any vampires. We are heirs to a legacy of power and wealth that spans centuries. We have the resources, the connections, and the knowledge to obtain that tome and unlock its secrets."
"Alright then, so you have a plan. What's next?"
As Marcel and FightRob continue discussing their plans, they fail to notice a group of werewolves watching them from the shadows, planning to intercept their search for the tome.
"Looks like someone else is interested in the tome too."
Marcel turns to face the direction of the lurking werewolves, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Indeed, my dear FightRob. It seems we have some unwanted competition.
"Then I guess we should proceed with caution."
Marcel takes a sip of his wine, his voice remaining calm and composed. "Oh, we will proceed with caution, my dear FightRob. But we will also proceed with determination.
"And how do you intend to deal with the werewolves?"
Marcel smirks, placing his glass down on the table. "Why, we'll deal with them the same way we deal with anyone who dares stand in our way.
Marcel grins, revealing his sharp fangs. "Oh, my dear FightRob, it's not just about overpowering them.
Marcel's smile grows wider, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "We will show those werewolves the true power of the Mikealson siblings.
"And what do you mean by that?"
Marcel leans in close, his voice low and dangerous. "We will hunt them down, one by one, and make them regret ever crossing us.
The scene ends with Marcel and FightRob sharing a sinister laugh, their voices echoing through the opulent halls of the mansion.