Asher was so arrogant that he had once humored the ridiculous belief that the sun burnt him because it was jealous of how bright his vampiric beauty shined. Others’ feelings were hard for him to notice, nothing more than faint starlight, lost in the blinding brilliance of his sun-sized arrogance.
It’s not surprising that he was often at odds with his humble and empathetic daughter, Delmarya (Deli), but Asher thought that he may be able to bond with her over a shared interest in nectar making.
Feeling uncharacteristically mischievous and playful, she decided to approach him.
Deli: I learned something about vampires.
Deli: Yes. If vampires don’t want to drink plasma from others, they can eat plasma fruit.
Asher did not understand. He obviously knew about plasma fruit already, so she was saying this because …
Deli: Dad, it’s a joke. You always stress that I should be prepared to bite … If you can remind me about that, I can remind you that plasma fruit exists.
Asher: Okay, no problem, I get it.
Asher: Ha ha ha HA ha?
Asher: I actually understand. I also realize that you’re in the basement because you’re interested in nectar making and you’re interested in nectar making because plasma nectar exists and it’s non-perishable. If something happens to your plasma fruit supply, you’ll have another plan that you can resort to before biting someone, right?
Asher: BUT biting isn’t necessarily bad. It’s similar to receiving a blood do—
Asher: Okay. Anyway, after we master the basics of nectar making, let’s make seven thousand three hundred bottles of plasma nectar for you.
Asher: Of course, so if you move out, you’ll have enough.
Deli: When I move out, but I won’t need that many.
Asher: If—it’s fine for you to live here forever—and how about 7,298 if 7,300 is too many?
Deli: Let’s first make a few bottles and see how it goes.
Unfortunately, nectar making wasn’t easy.
It left Deli filthy.
Later, she even fell and ruined a batch.
Theoretically, she was at least two times better than everyone else at nectar making, but her theoretical skills weren’t being expressed in reality. Her “unskilled” mother had produced much better nectar.
This irritated Deli slightly. Why was her human mother, who tired fairly easily, so graceful and good at everything from the beginning?
She humored quitting, but did not like this perfectionist part of her personality and knew moving out with a stockpile of plasma nectar would be helpful, so she kept at it. It was far too soon to quit. Her father was bad at it too, but he didn’t care at all.