[For a brief moment, he looks a touch blindsided— if only because he has thought of nothing else but the details since the moment he had stepped in and made his so-called claim in the interest of protecting her from someone far more sinister doing far worse. That she can be so carefree in this moment, when so much remains uncertain...
Well. It is admirable, if nothing else, and it does help him to relax just a touch, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders as he bows his head. The sweet scent of the smoke still clings to the both of them even as it dissipates, he notes, and he quickly joins her at the door with long, purposeful strides so that he can reach past her to open the door in her stead, bowing his head briefly.]
Of course. The details can wait a bit longer. After you.
[She'll not be going much of anywhere without him for quite some time, he reasons— but it's far more pleasant and less awkward to go in her company than to lurk nearby in the shadows.]
[He dutifully takes up his post beside her, his own back to the elevator wall as well, his hands clasped in front of him as he looks down at her over her shoulder. That snap of her fingers does cause one corner of his mouth to twitch upwards for a moment, threatening a smile, and he does let out a soft chuckle.]
You managed to escape what could be quite an ordeal, which is certainly worth celebrating. There's also the success of your establishment. It seems to be off to a good start.
[A treat is well-warranted. He remembers a time when he would gladly come up with all sorts of occasions for which to 'treat' himself— but it's been so long, the memory of the taste of such things has begun to fade.]
You should be able to find your fries any number of places, fortunately.
[As the elevator descends, Amelia rubs her chin between her fingers thoughtfully.]
I don't think I run a particularly unique shop. The copius amounts of greenery may be an attraction in an urban sprawl like this, but...
[She shrugs again.]
Just being a witch is a novelty in itself.
[Her train of thought circles back to her meal, already anticipating crispy fries loaded with hamburger meat, sauce, cheese, onions, jalapenos... Oh, but there is her new companion to think about.
Very casually and without even blinking she asks:]
You haven't eaten yet, have you? Or am I being too presumptuous about how you feed?
[The topic of vampires feeding and how people go about it these days can best be described as dancing around the matter. And yet again, the witch tramples on social convention as if nothing sticks to her. Are witches all like her, or is Amelia Steinbeck simply just Like This?]
[She's certainly direct, isn't she? There's certainly something to be said for being so straightforward, and Gale reasons it may possibly be as refreshing as it is startling.
He clears his throat softly before answer, a touch hesitant about speaking of such things so plainly, but it's not as though there was any mystery about what he was— vampires, in general, were recognized as legal citizens. There was little secrecy, especially in a city like this one, and there were even humans who seemed to find the idea of being fed on thrilling.
That particular subset's enthusiasm always made him just a touch uncomfortable.]
I haven't had the opportunity yet, no. In my haste to ensure no one else found their way to you before I did, I may have overlooked certain things. Regardless of where we find ourselves, I imagine there will be someone who can accommodate me.
[He almost leaves it at that, but quickly realizes what the natural assumption would be.]
That is— many places do allow my kind to request a glass, for those willing to drink from animals.
[In the coven she grew up in, Amelia learned to speak plainly; it was a sign of her youthful rebellion against the cryptic nature of witches who were steeped in the arcane. But to be fair, most witches are not shy to stating plain facts.
Vampires need to eat and they just happen to subsist on blood. It's as simple as that. And so, she hardly looks put off at Gale's explanation.]
Makes sense. I previously lived in a town where we had a couple of vampires. There was an explicit and implicit agreement that the mortal population would donate blood and create a steady supply for them. They were nice, those vampires. They would have animal and human blood delivered to them too.
[She speaks candidly with the air of someone who has a good amount of years on her even if it pales in comparison to the years the vampire next to her has.]
Then make sure you order some for yourself, okay? I don't want to eat my fries while you awkwardly watch.
[She does, indeed, speak as though she has a great deal of experience beyond her apparent years, but such was often the way with those as long-lived as they were. It's certainly preferable to some of the fawning he's seen from reckless humans who didn't know better, who thought everything about mingling with his kind would be glamorous. Sometimes, he supposed it could be— the city's entertainment district boasted more vampire-run attractions than not, but there were still dangerous sorts lurking about, many of whom even used that playful facade and the assumptions of mortals to their advantage.
He casts her a sidelong glance, another smile threatening to pull at the corner of his mouth, but not quite managing.]
A very practical arrangement. Most establishments here are handled to address such needs, given the nature of the population, but it's hardly so personal. I promise— I'll not deny myself, but I had planned to be discreet if it made you uncomfortable. I should have known better.
[She's not like most of the mortals he sees come through— neither starry-eyed nor squeamish.]
Dirt under my nails after gardening is uncomfortable. A vampire drinking blood from a bottle or glass, not so much.
[Once the elevator reaches the lobby and they move outside, the streets are beginning to fill up with people who are out for a night on the town or other vampires like Gale who are "early" risers.
Amelia, having long decided on her meal, purposefully takes a left where her favorite dining establishment is located, further down the block.]
Are you supposed to be working tonight? I wouldn't want to keep you too long, but if you're worried you could either escort me back home... [There's a pause.]
[The comparison gets a soft chuckle from him, and that smile finally blooms, small though it may be. Her matter-of-fact approach to things is quite nice, given how accustomed he's become to spending his time among those who will often find ways to have entire conversations that go unspoken, woven in between lines. Most vampires, especially those who considered themselves some degree of important, weren't exactly known for their candor.]
When you put it that way, it almost seems comical that I should be concerned. Alas, not everyone is quite so level-headed as you.
[Nor does it seem she's likely to romanticize the experience, which was refreshing in its own right.
He follows along closely with his hands deep in his coat pockets, allowing her to lead them to their destination. He had expected his evening plans to come up in some regard; he had intended to defer to her on how they should proceed, but it would seem she has ideas of her own.]
I had thought it could do without me for a few nights, while we— sort things out.
[Establish how this arrangement is going to work.]
Unless you would like to visit, which could certainly be arranged. I only wished to avoid disrupting your life more than it already has been. What would you be doing on any other evening, had you not suddenly found yourself in this situation?
[The chuckle gains a glance from Amelia. It feels like an accomplishment, if only a little. And it proves to her that beneath that austere demeanor he has displayed around her, was something, someone a little warmer than expected.]
I'd very much like to visit. I haven't been going out that much lately, especially at night.
[For obvious reasons. But even before that, she kept to herself, a common trait among witches.]
My evenings are not that exciting, believe me. That is unless you find an evening of preparing instant noodles, snacks, and a marathon of a crime drama series riveting.
[They'll soon find themselves entering a dive bar, a small, old, but well-kept establishment that serves all types in the city. A red-skinned tiefling is manning the counter. He's about to greet Amelia, but then his eyes widen when he sees the vampire next to her.]
"Oh... Welcome in! Amelia, sir. I'll be serving you both I presume?"
I don't know, I'd say that sounds like a pleasantly quiet evening. Add in a book or a game of chess and it wouldn't be so different from one of my own— well, mornings, I suppose.
[Though he remains reserved, he does seem to be warming slightly, genuinely surprised that she's as willing to engage with him as she is. He had expected her to be resentful of his intervention, even though he had ultimately aided her— it put her in a politically precarious position, and she seemed practical enough to know it was worth the end results, but he had not expected friendly.
It's a nice surprise, especially given their overlap in interests.]
If you're interested, I would be happy to show you the place. You're sure to find something to your liking— and it's quite comfortable, if I do say so myself.
[Secure, as well. That certainly doesn't hurt.
He follows her inside when they reach the establishment in question, though he does pause to hold the door open for her before doing so. When they're greeted by the barkeep, a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth again.]
You truly have managed to become a regular already, I see.
One becomes a regular by going to the closest place and not bothering to walk very far elsewhere.
[The witch slides into her seat at the counter to put in her order and one for Gale (for her, loaded fries and beer, for the vampire, a blood sampler). She swivels in her chair to face Gale with crossed arms.]
Your place does sound nice. Nice enough to stay until morning.
Certainly there's more than convenience that brings you back time and again, though there's no denying the appeal.
[He eases into the seat next to hers, folding his hands together atop the bar, though turns his chair just slightly when she turns her own to face him— only to be so bold that he finds himself feeling almost blindsided.
He's not even fed yet this evening, and yet he's almost certain he can feel a bit of heat making its way into his face.]
Oh— [He hadn't thought his response through in the least.] Yes, I've spent my share of nights there. That aforementioned convenience.
[He'd managed not to stammer. That's almost worth being proud of, he thinks.]
[His reaction causes a delighted chuckle out of the witch and she readjusts her glasses, shaking her head.]
Didn't see that coming, did you? I'm surprised. You definitely have more years on me so you should have heard all the usual plays by now.
[It isn't apparent at first with Amelia, but there's a surprisingly playful side to the otherwise enigmatic Green Witch. Or perhaps it felt fine to do this with someone who is within her age range.]
Sorry. It was a little uncalled for, but I couldn't help poke at you a little.
[She swivels her chair to face forward as their barkeep prepares their orders. Gale is served first, three bottles on a wooden tray with varying hues of dark crimson.]
You're one of the most proper vampires I've ever met.
[He admits that much with a chuckle of his own, reaching up to card his fingers through his hair and compose himself.]
I've heard plenty over the years, but I'm sure it won't surprise you to learn I tend to keep to myself.
[It's easier, in the long run. He doesn't elaborate, instead giving the bartender a nod of thank and reaching for the first of the three bottles.]
I suppose I am rather proper. I think of it as 'old-fashioned,' perhaps. I can't say I quite fit into the city's current efforts towards vampire tourism, as it were.
My neighbors have told me that you're rather quiet so I gathered that much.
[Their tiefling barkeep finally serves her loaded fries and a bottle of ice-cold beer. She picks up her fork and helps herself, thoroughly enjoying her indulgent meal before continuing their conversation.]
Things have changed in the past few decades, haven't they? I remember when I was being raised in my coven, the other witches talked about the strengthening ties between mortals and vampires and how each year the latter's relationship with the rest of the world has been decidedly less adversarial.
[She takes another bite of fries and then washes it down with a swig of beer.]
The Cosmic Witches saw it coming, or so they claim. When you stare at the stars and their hidden meanings for that long, you're bound to be right about a few things.
[He lets out a stifled sound of amusement in response to that last assessment, taking a careful pull from the first bottle he'd been given, taking the time to savor it. Many of his kind complained that drinking from a bottle or glass lacked the thrill of doing things the 'traditional' way, and perhaps they were right, but Gale had a wealth of reasons for preferring it as he did.]
It is always the way with divination and astrology. Powerful tools in their own right, but not an exact science. By the numbers, however, they do turn up their share of accurate predictions.
[The laws of probability demanded it, if nothing else, but he's certainly seen proof of the power of both arts in his time.]
As vampires now live their lives in the open as legal citizens rather than hiding in the shadows as monsters to be feared, things have changed. Some for the better. Coexistence is tenuous at times, but largely seems to be working. The way some have turned to offering our way of life as entertainment, however...
[He pauses, frowning as he takes another sip, considering.]
It is dangerous, I think, to glamorize it so. To allow boundaries to become muddied. To encourage humans to come into clubs and beg to be fed on as though it is a privilege, and was not so long ago a very real threat.
Ah. I've heard of such things, but I haven't gone out of my way to see it. I'm asleep by the time those activities are at their peak.
[The witch muses to herself that the hunt had never really ceased. It has simply mutated into a different shape. Instead of inflicting violence upon mortals, vampires use their allure and undead mystery to entice their food to them instead.
A pleasant asphyxiation.]
Well. It's better for both sides. One side can live in relative safety even when the sun sets and the other can maintain a constant and consistent supply.
[Amelia turns her seat to face Gale again bringing her beer to her lips before asking another question.]
Actually, I don't think I've asked... How old are you exactly? You've probably were able to witness these changing tides even before I was born.
[He can hardly argue with her there. Though he does not care for such a predatory approach being glamourized, it is better— both sides are safer for it, so long as everyone follows the rules. Vampires who break them often find themselves deeply regretting so— unless there are those who are powerful enough to get away with doing so.
Those whose attention Amelia had drawn to herself were, unfortunately, that sort.
He lowers his bottle from his lips as she asks her question, giving her a wry little smile in response.]
There was a time when I thought I would eventually lose count— that the years would have no meaning after so many had passed. As it so happens, there are some dates you simply never forget.
[The year one died, for one. He clears his throat softly, looking just a touch bashful as he goes on to confess:]
[His answer causes her lips twitch into another smile.]
That sure is something. You look a hundred years young, if you don't mind me saying.
[Amelia easily delivers warm and teasing words, like an easy breeze passing through. In her old hometown, her previous neighbors would remark that she was strangely personable for a witch.
(But she had one person to thank for that. She wouldn't have been able to be who she was today without his influence.)]
Since it's only fair, she gives her age too.]
I'm fifty-five and I feel it sometimes. It probably doesn't bode well for me, not if I want to be as long-lived as you or my peers.
[She gets another laugh from him with that, soft though it may be. She is quite personable, as it turns out, far moreso than he would have expected of someone in her current situation. He's grateful for it— their predicament would be even more difficult if they found themselves at odds. That, at least, had always seemed unlikely. Even before they had properly met, it was clear enough that they had common interests.]
I'll graciously accept the compliment, thank you.
[He studies her for a moment as she gives her own age, responding with a small shake of his head.]
Ah, you'll do just fine— there are some of us who are merely old souls, no matter the number of years. You look half that, at best. I never would have guessed— but in fairness, I would never deign to guess or ask a lady's age.
[Amelia cheerfully takes another bite out of her fries.]
Well, to circle back... [And here, her expression becomes serious again.]
I do want to visit your place. It's better to talk shop there than here. And you'll have to escort me home before dawn breaks.
[There are only so many hours in the night and so much can happen within them if she's careless. After what had happened in her own domain, the Green Witch is trying to exercise more caution and use what's at her disposal which in this case, is Gale.]
I've learned quite a bit in my time. I've always considered myself a scholar, and two and a half centuries is a remarkably long time to study any number of subjects, including people.
[There are some rules that never change, no matter how many decades have passed, and that is certainly one of them. Some information you never ask for, and can only hope to learn if it happens to be offered.
He nods his understanding as he drinks, a bit of noticeable color having returned to his countenance now that he's begun to properly feed.]
You would be welcome, and we're likely to have a good deal of privacy between any visiting patrons. The escort goes without saying, as well.
[He's not about to leave her unattended, not as long as he's awake.]
You shouldn't walk anywhere alone for the foreseeable future, if it can be helped.
There goes my plans for developing a vigorous nightlife.
[It's wry sarcasm, obviously. She already mentioned she mostly stayed inside and kept the same day to night cycle as other mortals. But seeing as how Amelia also attended her shop during the say and ventured outside only to make small purchases during the day...]
Hm. Do you think that clan employs day servants to work when they can't? I haven't had any trouble during daylight hours, but the foreseeable future you're alluding to is looking a lot less optimistic.
[Ah— an excellent question, and one he does, indeed, have the answer to.]
While I've never met any personally, I would expect that Clan Szarr does exactly that.
[His expression has become somber once more, concerned as he lowers his bottle, brow creasing slightly between his eyes.]
There are plenty who do. Some are entirely benign, companions who just so happen to be day-walking— human servants or shifters that serve as animals to call. 'Benign,' unfortunately, is not a word I would use for anything Cazador Szarr does.
[That he is allowed to remain in this city at all is a mystery Gale has wondered at for years.]
At the moment, I don't think it's possible for us to be too careful.
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sunfloras2024-05-18 10:26 pm
no subject
Well. It is admirable, if nothing else, and it does help him to relax just a touch, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders as he bows his head. The sweet scent of the smoke still clings to the both of them even as it dissipates, he notes, and he quickly joins her at the door with long, purposeful strides so that he can reach past her to open the door in her stead, bowing his head briefly.]
Of course. The details can wait a bit longer. After you.
[She'll not be going much of anywhere without him for quite some time, he reasons— but it's far more pleasant and less awkward to go in her company than to lurk nearby in the shadows.]
Where did you have in mind?
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[Into the elevator they go. She punches the lobby button with her thumb and then leans her back against the wall.]
Oh! [The witch snaps her fingers decisively.]
Fries. Loaded fries. Not healthy certainly, but I want to treat myself.
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You managed to escape what could be quite an ordeal, which is certainly worth celebrating. There's also the success of your establishment. It seems to be off to a good start.
[A treat is well-warranted. He remembers a time when he would gladly come up with all sorts of occasions for which to 'treat' himself— but it's been so long, the memory of the taste of such things has begun to fade.]
You should be able to find your fries any number of places, fortunately.
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[As the elevator descends, Amelia rubs her chin between her fingers thoughtfully.]
I don't think I run a particularly unique shop. The copius amounts of greenery may be an attraction in an urban sprawl like this, but...
[She shrugs again.]
Just being a witch is a novelty in itself.
[Her train of thought circles back to her meal, already anticipating crispy fries loaded with hamburger meat, sauce, cheese, onions, jalapenos... Oh, but there is her new companion to think about.
Very casually and without even blinking she asks:]
You haven't eaten yet, have you? Or am I being too presumptuous about how you feed?
[The topic of vampires feeding and how people go about it these days can best be described as dancing around the matter. And yet again, the witch tramples on social convention as if nothing sticks to her. Are witches all like her, or is Amelia Steinbeck simply just Like This?]
no subject
He clears his throat softly before answer, a touch hesitant about speaking of such things so plainly, but it's not as though there was any mystery about what he was— vampires, in general, were recognized as legal citizens. There was little secrecy, especially in a city like this one, and there were even humans who seemed to find the idea of being fed on thrilling.
That particular subset's enthusiasm always made him just a touch uncomfortable.]
I haven't had the opportunity yet, no. In my haste to ensure no one else found their way to you before I did, I may have overlooked certain things. Regardless of where we find ourselves, I imagine there will be someone who can accommodate me.
[He almost leaves it at that, but quickly realizes what the natural assumption would be.]
That is— many places do allow my kind to request a glass, for those willing to drink from animals.
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Vampires need to eat and they just happen to subsist on blood. It's as simple as that. And so, she hardly looks put off at Gale's explanation.]
Makes sense. I previously lived in a town where we had a couple of vampires. There was an explicit and implicit agreement that the mortal population would donate blood and create a steady supply for them. They were nice, those vampires. They would have animal and human blood delivered to them too.
[She speaks candidly with the air of someone who has a good amount of years on her even if it pales in comparison to the years the vampire next to her has.]
Then make sure you order some for yourself, okay? I don't want to eat my fries while you awkwardly watch.
no subject
He casts her a sidelong glance, another smile threatening to pull at the corner of his mouth, but not quite managing.]
A very practical arrangement. Most establishments here are handled to address such needs, given the nature of the population, but it's hardly so personal. I promise— I'll not deny myself, but I had planned to be discreet if it made you uncomfortable. I should have known better.
[She's not like most of the mortals he sees come through— neither starry-eyed nor squeamish.]
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[Once the elevator reaches the lobby and they move outside, the streets are beginning to fill up with people who are out for a night on the town or other vampires like Gale who are "early" risers.
Amelia, having long decided on her meal, purposefully takes a left where her favorite dining establishment is located, further down the block.]
Are you supposed to be working tonight? I wouldn't want to keep you too long, but if you're worried you could either escort me back home... [There's a pause.]
Or you can take me to your shop.
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When you put it that way, it almost seems comical that I should be concerned. Alas, not everyone is quite so level-headed as you.
[Nor does it seem she's likely to romanticize the experience, which was refreshing in its own right.
He follows along closely with his hands deep in his coat pockets, allowing her to lead them to their destination. He had expected his evening plans to come up in some regard; he had intended to defer to her on how they should proceed, but it would seem she has ideas of her own.]
I had thought it could do without me for a few nights, while we— sort things out.
[Establish how this arrangement is going to work.]
Unless you would like to visit, which could certainly be arranged. I only wished to avoid disrupting your life more than it already has been. What would you be doing on any other evening, had you not suddenly found yourself in this situation?
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I'd very much like to visit. I haven't been going out that much lately, especially at night.
[For obvious reasons. But even before that, she kept to herself, a common trait among witches.]
My evenings are not that exciting, believe me. That is unless you find an evening of preparing instant noodles, snacks, and a marathon of a crime drama series riveting.
[They'll soon find themselves entering a dive bar, a small, old, but well-kept establishment that serves all types in the city. A red-skinned tiefling is manning the counter. He's about to greet Amelia, but then his eyes widen when he sees the vampire next to her.]
"Oh... Welcome in! Amelia, sir. I'll be serving you both I presume?"
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[Though he remains reserved, he does seem to be warming slightly, genuinely surprised that she's as willing to engage with him as she is. He had expected her to be resentful of his intervention, even though he had ultimately aided her— it put her in a politically precarious position, and she seemed practical enough to know it was worth the end results, but he had not expected friendly.
It's a nice surprise, especially given their overlap in interests.]
If you're interested, I would be happy to show you the place. You're sure to find something to your liking— and it's quite comfortable, if I do say so myself.
[Secure, as well. That certainly doesn't hurt.
He follows her inside when they reach the establishment in question, though he does pause to hold the door open for her before doing so. When they're greeted by the barkeep, a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth again.]
You truly have managed to become a regular already, I see.
no subject
[The witch slides into her seat at the counter to put in her order and one for Gale (for her, loaded fries and beer, for the vampire, a blood sampler). She swivels in her chair to face Gale with crossed arms.]
Your place does sound nice. Nice enough to stay until morning.
no subject
[He eases into the seat next to hers, folding his hands together atop the bar, though turns his chair just slightly when she turns her own to face him— only to be so bold that he finds himself feeling almost blindsided.
He's not even fed yet this evening, and yet he's almost certain he can feel a bit of heat making its way into his face.]
Oh— [He hadn't thought his response through in the least.] Yes, I've spent my share of nights there. That aforementioned convenience.
[He'd managed not to stammer. That's almost worth being proud of, he thinks.]
no subject
Didn't see that coming, did you? I'm surprised. You definitely have more years on me so you should have heard all the usual plays by now.
[It isn't apparent at first with Amelia, but there's a surprisingly playful side to the otherwise enigmatic Green Witch. Or perhaps it felt fine to do this with someone who is within her age range.]
Sorry. It was a little uncalled for, but I couldn't help poke at you a little.
[She swivels her chair to face forward as their barkeep prepares their orders. Gale is served first, three bottles on a wooden tray with varying hues of dark crimson.]
You're one of the most proper vampires I've ever met.
no subject
[He admits that much with a chuckle of his own, reaching up to card his fingers through his hair and compose himself.]
I've heard plenty over the years, but I'm sure it won't surprise you to learn I tend to keep to myself.
[It's easier, in the long run. He doesn't elaborate, instead giving the bartender a nod of thank and reaching for the first of the three bottles.]
I suppose I am rather proper. I think of it as 'old-fashioned,' perhaps. I can't say I quite fit into the city's current efforts towards vampire tourism, as it were.
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[Their tiefling barkeep finally serves her loaded fries and a bottle of ice-cold beer. She picks up her fork and helps herself, thoroughly enjoying her indulgent meal before continuing their conversation.]
Things have changed in the past few decades, haven't they? I remember when I was being raised in my coven, the other witches talked about the strengthening ties between mortals and vampires and how each year the latter's relationship with the rest of the world has been decidedly less adversarial.
[She takes another bite of fries and then washes it down with a swig of beer.]
The Cosmic Witches saw it coming, or so they claim. When you stare at the stars and their hidden meanings for that long, you're bound to be right about a few things.
no subject
It is always the way with divination and astrology. Powerful tools in their own right, but not an exact science. By the numbers, however, they do turn up their share of accurate predictions.
[The laws of probability demanded it, if nothing else, but he's certainly seen proof of the power of both arts in his time.]
As vampires now live their lives in the open as legal citizens rather than hiding in the shadows as monsters to be feared, things have changed. Some for the better. Coexistence is tenuous at times, but largely seems to be working. The way some have turned to offering our way of life as entertainment, however...
[He pauses, frowning as he takes another sip, considering.]
It is dangerous, I think, to glamorize it so. To allow boundaries to become muddied. To encourage humans to come into clubs and beg to be fed on as though it is a privilege, and was not so long ago a very real threat.
no subject
[The witch muses to herself that the hunt had never really ceased. It has simply mutated into a different shape. Instead of inflicting violence upon mortals, vampires use their allure and undead mystery to entice their food to them instead.
A pleasant asphyxiation.]
Well. It's better for both sides. One side can live in relative safety even when the sun sets and the other can maintain a constant and consistent supply.
[Amelia turns her seat to face Gale again bringing her beer to her lips before asking another question.]
Actually, I don't think I've asked... How old are you exactly? You've probably were able to witness these changing tides even before I was born.
no subject
Those whose attention Amelia had drawn to herself were, unfortunately, that sort.
He lowers his bottle from his lips as she asks her question, giving her a wry little smile in response.]
There was a time when I thought I would eventually lose count— that the years would have no meaning after so many had passed. As it so happens, there are some dates you simply never forget.
[The year one died, for one. He clears his throat softly, looking just a touch bashful as he goes on to confess:]
Two hundred and forty-three.
no subject
[His answer causes her lips twitch into another smile.]
That sure is something. You look a hundred years young, if you don't mind me saying.
[Amelia easily delivers warm and teasing words, like an easy breeze passing through. In her old hometown, her previous neighbors would remark that she was strangely personable for a witch.
(But she had one person to thank for that. She wouldn't have been able to be who she was today without his influence.)]
Since it's only fair, she gives her age too.]
I'm fifty-five and I feel it sometimes. It probably doesn't bode well for me, not if I want to be as long-lived as you or my peers.
no subject
I'll graciously accept the compliment, thank you.
[He studies her for a moment as she gives her own age, responding with a small shake of his head.]
Ah, you'll do just fine— there are some of us who are merely old souls, no matter the number of years. You look half that, at best. I never would have guessed— but in fairness, I would never deign to guess or ask a lady's age.
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[Amelia cheerfully takes another bite out of her fries.]
Well, to circle back... [And here, her expression becomes serious again.]
I do want to visit your place. It's better to talk shop there than here. And you'll have to escort me home before dawn breaks.
[There are only so many hours in the night and so much can happen within them if she's careless. After what had happened in her own domain, the Green Witch is trying to exercise more caution and use what's at her disposal which in this case, is Gale.]
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[There are some rules that never change, no matter how many decades have passed, and that is certainly one of them. Some information you never ask for, and can only hope to learn if it happens to be offered.
He nods his understanding as he drinks, a bit of noticeable color having returned to his countenance now that he's begun to properly feed.]
You would be welcome, and we're likely to have a good deal of privacy between any visiting patrons. The escort goes without saying, as well.
[He's not about to leave her unattended, not as long as he's awake.]
You shouldn't walk anywhere alone for the foreseeable future, if it can be helped.
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[It's wry sarcasm, obviously. She already mentioned she mostly stayed inside and kept the same day to night cycle as other mortals. But seeing as how Amelia also attended her shop during the say and ventured outside only to make small purchases during the day...]
Hm. Do you think that clan employs day servants to work when they can't? I haven't had any trouble during daylight hours, but the foreseeable future you're alluding to is looking a lot less optimistic.
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While I've never met any personally, I would expect that Clan Szarr does exactly that.
[His expression has become somber once more, concerned as he lowers his bottle, brow creasing slightly between his eyes.]
There are plenty who do. Some are entirely benign, companions who just so happen to be day-walking— human servants or shifters that serve as animals to call. 'Benign,' unfortunately, is not a word I would use for anything Cazador Szarr does.
[That he is allowed to remain in this city at all is a mystery Gale has wondered at for years.]
At the moment, I don't think it's possible for us to be too careful.
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facepalms at my gremlin hour tagging
here I am doing the same
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