nothing even matters

She met the eyes of the other woman again, “Costal feuds aside though I do love Boston.” It had been one of the places she’d hidden herself this past year, behind the counter of a lovely little bar in Cambridge.

Charlotte then nodded along as she watched the other person talk about the issues on hand for this Conclave. Charlotte hadn’t been aware of the daylight jewelry development until very very recently but it was an interesting concept. It might improve a lot of lives but she could see why it scared people. She perked up when Leone mentioned finding someone for daylight jewelry, she was a vampire. Charlotte wouldn’t of guessed but perhaps that was why Charlotte had felt so perceived at first, not because the woman recognized her but because she probably perceived so much more than most. “Its an exciting time and I’m sure there will be a witch willing to do it,” Charlotte smiled.

Her eyes don't skip the way Charlotte sits up a little when she mentions daylight jewelry. "Witches look like they're a dime a dozen around here, but not all of them care to work with vampires. I suppose that is what networking is for. Perhaps I'll be so lucky to accidentally stumble upon a charming witch who would be able to do the task for me." Is she laying it on thick? Probably a little, but Leone hardly cares.

Charlotte had never met of body of water she could not get along with, especially if it was one that contained her favoured salt water. But she also could not deny that at times the Atlantic Ocean had felt as much like a chain as that house. Like each time she was allowed to touch the water and change its currents, it was also betraying her by sweeping her away as well.  

Charlotte also wasn’t surprised the woman had mistaken her for someone else, she had one of those nice faces people found familiarity in. She was happy that the conversation had taken on a nicer current. “Are you from around here?”

Liquidation. That's certainly the neatest way she's ever heard it put. Might as well join in and say she's in production, Kali's in sales, and Reardon's one big pyramid scheme. "Liquidation. Military. An eye for a good drink. I'm clearly talking to a woman of many talents. Remind me never to get on your bad side." Praise is something she offers sparingly these days, but it's hard not to appreciate the moment for what it is. She rarely gets to speak this frankly with others.

What would you be doing? Eleanor smiles something cynical. What would she be doing, if she had a choice? Drug binges? Building a time machine? Traversing continents? Searching for an ending, she thinks. It doesn't even need to be kind anymore. Just final. "... Lounging in the sun with a crappy beach read," she answers after a pause; an amendment follows shortly. "It's what half the room's here for tonight, isn't it?"

She laughs as Eleanor easily reads between the lines of what she isn't saying, and is glad that she can skip past the shock and horror. "Oh, I was just a military wife. I still don't like guns," she wrinkles her nose. "Nasty things, and the world is worse off for them. I prefer the natural hunt, a knife if necessary," she gives the slightest flash of her fangs. "If you ever care to join me, I'm sure I can convince Kali to surrender you to my care for an evening or two."

The elder woman rests her chin in her palm at the mention of the elusive jewelry that the world has flocked to Port Leiry for. Leone knows it interests her, and she makes no move to hide it. Half-formed wisps of thought flit through her mind, the sound of waves crashing and little girls shrieking with laughter. "Mm, I do miss the beach," she agrees. "Moonlit walks on the shoreline aren't as exciting when they're the only ones you can do." She raises her glass in a small toast. "I hope you get to do something you enjoy this evening, Eleanor. Because you want to, not because you must. After all, why else have we survived what we have?"

He did smile at that. "I agree. If I'd wanted someone else dictating my life, I wouldn't be here. She does good keeping that balance." Orville hadn't spoken much with their clan leader, but he didn't need to know her well to respect the structures she maintained. So far, he hadn't seen much of the drawbacks he'd expected from clan involvement.

"It's been lovely to meet you to," he says, with a small nod. "We'll see how the night goes. Maybe I'll loosen up a little. I'll see you around, Leona."

"I don't know much about the other ones yet, s'why I bothered coming." Half true. "What I'm learning is a lot of the others are a little too much about... I don't know, red tape. Seems exhausting."

Vampire bureaucracy hadn't been something she'd ever really imagined watching shit teen shows on network TV but in retrospect she figures it makes sense. Still, feels silly the way she hears some of them handle things. Though, maybe it was Kanemaru's lax grip on its sort that'd led to Tommy Skinner in the first place, so she can't judge it either. Birdie just knows she balks at a yoke.

"I work with Nsilo, keep an eye out on a few of her and the groups, I don't know, interests." Her drinks lands in front of her, and she eyes them for a second, and then, as if to make a play, or at least not feel completely lame, she calls the tender back over, catching their eye, 'Fix these up like hers?' She smirks, but resolves to leave a tip later because she feels kind of like a dick about it. While the tender drips some more blood into the two glasses and sets to stirring them, Birdie turns back to Leone. "Cool though, good to meet somebody new, right? Maybe I'll see you around, Leone."

Small sip of wine. Continue mild-mannered appearances. Accept the lecture with grace, as if he hasn’t observed humanity from a distance for almost a century.

“Leone,” he repeats, to help commit the name to memory. “We may have missed each other before, then. I’ve not been in town long.” He meets her wink with a good-natured smile. “Yes, it’s certainly a benefit I can appreciate. I’ve always preferred the… lackadaisical approach. I appreciate comradery, but I like to hold the strings when it comes to how I live my own life.”

"We probably did, it's been, oh, at least a year since I have stopped in, and I was only in town for about a month or two that time," she explains. "You and I both appreciate not having anyone holding our leash, I can respect that," she nods. Clans have purpose, creates ties and communities who may consider helping in an emergency, but they also inevitably leads to bonds and expectations, emotions that Leone has no time for. "Nsilo does well with maintaining that structure. We could have far worse, like the Pretorius bores."

Birdie considers, as she has for two and half months now, the fact of eternity. That, stakes and sunlight nonwithstanding, she's forever now. She has forever now. Seven years had felt like eternity, what would the real thing feel like?

"More truth than poetry in that question," Birdie says, leaning against the serving bar, considering the woman with an appraising eye. She misses feeling like she made outfits like this work. She'd forced herself into this, but it might have been too much, too soon. Lara's encouragement is the wire holding the sword of self doubt over her head, though, and that's a strong wire.

"This isn't one of the designated feeding zones, Angel." It was inconsequential, the conclave was more a vampires hunting grounds than a flock for the hunters to protect. A moment of weakness as the old pet name snaked on her tongue, a betrayal of her heart.

Ten years. Every drop of blood that had been caked under Aurelia's fingernails had lead to this moment. Ten years of preparation for this hunt. A good hunt is never rushed, a mantra that she had been repeating for each day since her oaths had been inked into her skin. Aurelia's fingers brushed the handle of the dagger secured under her jacket grounding herself in the wood and steal, the certainty of purpose.

Aurelia strode across the terrace, muscled frame invading the space of the women who she once, and perhaps in the darkest parts of her heart still, loved. It was reckless closing the distance as she was. Finely honed instincts screaming that she was walking in the maw of the predator. Aurelia reached up, grabbing Leones chin, wiping the last drops of blood away with her thumb. She let the silence hang, stretching far longer than what would be comfortable.

"Like you kissed our daughters goodnight?"

A smile curls across her face when Aurelia grabs her, hand warm against her too-cold cheek as she wipes away the blood that is still on her lips. Leone barely hesitates before leaning forward to suck the remnants of the blood from her wife's thumb. She thinks briefly about biting down gently, to pierce the skin and get the drink that she really wants tonight, but she knows Aurelia. To present such a challenge would wreck tonight's carefully-constructed plans, and that would be a waste.

She pulls off with an audible pop but doesn't move back, not bothered in the slightest by her words. "If we're going by that metric, then you owe me two," she replies sweetly. "One from me, and one from the mother who wasn't there." She delivers the barb like a bouquet of roses, not a poison-tipped stinger. There is no pain or regret when Aurelia brings up their daughters, like a dulled blade that runs harmlessly against the stone of her heart. They existed, they died, and she has moved on. It's a pity her wife hasn't been able to do the same.

"If you don't mind me asking, the flavors, to you.. Do you find great difference in their draw? It may be my old palate, stained with too many years of tannin and tartness, but it's rare I find one so worth waiting for." He found himself speaking aloud, phrasing it as a question in a sense. So much for his normal conservation, this place was already infecting his mind. "For curiosity sake, in your experience, what definitively makes one better than another?"

She pulls her chair a little closer and leans in conspiratorially. "Like fear, you see? It's different than say, arousal. Both have their own unique flavors that leave their trace in the blood, and I couldn't possibly choose between one or the other, but that's one way I like to set them apart." But she quirks her head at his admittance about his age. She herself is still getting used to the fact that she hasn't aged in over a decade, but she's still within her own lifetime had she remained blissfully unaware of the supernatural. Some say that it doesn't really settle in until after that first lifetime has come and gone.

But, then, perhaps he’s still holding too tightly to a standard of humanity that doesn’t apply. The event needs servers. The humans can’t be allowed to remember what they’ve seen tonight. It’s… sensible. He takes another sip of his drink and just hopes that they’re being well-compensated. That feels like a very un-vampiric concern to be having in the midst of an event like this.