Would you love a Monsterman? (Avdol x Polnareff)

Lie-in

"WHA...HOW DID YOU KNOW?!" Polnareff spluttered, staring at the mummy in shock. He was absolutely terrified - he'd never seen something like this before! Said mummy gestured to the doorway with one bandaged finger, showing the inscription.
"The living cannot enter this place, so you must be undead." He said. Polnareff was still trembling, and the mummy smiled.
"Relax, I wish you no harm." He smiled, showing off teeth that were in splendid condition. Relieved, Polnareff let out a sigh. Now that he wasn't panicking, he was able to take in the mummy's appearance a little better. The door of the tomb prevented sunlight from getting in, yet his night vision allowed him to see perfectly. The mummy was mostly intact, except for a cavity in his chest that showed some of his ribs (and a dried out little thing that must've once been his heart) and some small holes in his sunken cheeks. His skin was dark brown and papery-looking, with a ashy texture from how dry it was. He was thin- incredibly thin- yet his face was fully intact, with even his earlobes and septum being preserved. A few locs clung to his head, but his scalp was mostly covered in short 4c hair, with even a few babyhairs surviving his long slumber. Due to the enchantment, his eyes were intact, and they were a wise and deep shade of mahogany. The mummy wore nothing except a layer of bandages, and he had twin wavy scars on his cheeks. He looked human enough to pass at a distance, yet if anyone was to get up close they'd either say "nice costume, dude!" Or run for the hills in terror.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Polnareff." The Frenchman said, extending his hand for a shake. The mummy shook it, yet looked confused.
"French? What's that?"
"I'm from France. Y'know, Gaul? Like Asterix and... nevermind. Anyway, what's your name?" Polnareff asked with a polite grin.
"I don't have one." Came the response. The mummy turned his head away in shame, as if this were something awful.
"What?!" Polnareff gasped. How could he not have a name?!
"Everyone just called me Magician." The mummy replied, bowing his head. "Pharaoh never named me after he had me stolen away."
"Well... maybe you can give yourself a name?" Jean suggested with a shrug. His accomplice pondered for a moment, thinking of all the names he'd overheard in his deep slumber. He thought of two that he'd heard male humans call each other the most, and promptly came up with his brand new name.
"Mohammed Avdol. That's my name now." He said with a newly found sense of confidence.
"Mohammed Avdol?"
"Yes, I am!"

Polnareff was about to say something, but just then there was a fluttering noise from inside Avdol's sarcophagus.
"What's that sound? It's not flesh-eating evil scarabs, is it?" Polnareff cringed, as most of his knowledge of Ancient Egypt came from horror movies.
"Oh no, that's just Red. He's my familiar." Avdol said, reaching into the coffin and pulling out a mummified bird. It was thin and crusty, yet a few red feathers still clung onto it.
"A bird mummy!" Polnareff grinned. "Can I pet it?"
"He is not a pet, he is my steadfast companion!" Avdol said proudly. "But yes, you can give him a pet. He loves headpats."
Polnareff patted the bird on the head, and it made a little coo of happiness.

"What exactly are you? I'm sure that you know I'm a Mummy, but what about you?" Avdol asked Jean Pierre as he petted the bird.
"I'm... I'm a vampire. A shadow-walker, a blood drinker, a child of the night, an undead being made in the image of the Vampira Ultima." Polnareff replied. "But I'd never dream of feeding off a human!"
"Still, I don't have any blood left in me, neither does my bird here." Avdol said, sitting up from his sarcophagus and stretching.
"Ahh, 4,150 years really gives you a crick in the neck!" The mummy sighed. He looked over at his canopic jars, and sighed.
"Well, I guess my organs are going to have to remain out of me forever, now." He said, picking up a jar. It was broken, and what was once inside was now dust.
"I'm... I'm so sorry." Polnareff replied. He took Avdol's hand, and squeezed it tightly.

"I'm going to have to remain down here until the sun sets, so I'll be right here if you need me. It's nice to have another undead being, you know?"
Avdol looked up with a curious expression.
"And why is that?" He asked, fixing Polnareff with eyes older than Paris, older than Pompeii, older than the Great Wall of China. Eyes that had seen civilisations rise and fall, and yet had slumbered through all of it.
"All my human friends die. I have monster friends who aren't really mortal, but it's not the same as having another undead to talk to, y'know? All I ever want is someone who knows just how I feel deep in my heart- although it doesn't really beat anymore." He sighed, and looked at the sandy ground.
"Polnareff, I'd be happy to be your friend. I haven't talked to anyone in over 4,000 years!" Avdol replied, taking his other hand and looking him in the eye.
"Well, it's 14 hours until sunrise, and you have a lot to catch up on. How about I fill you in on what you've missed?" Polnareff asked. Avdol nodded, and Polnareff flipped his sarcophagus over with his vampiric strength to use as a seat, then sat down on it. Avdol joined him, and Polnareff looked him in the eyes. The vampire cleared his throat, and started to tell the history of the world between now and when Avdol was put into his tomb.
"Ok, so first of all, there's now this stuff called iron..."