The vampire has holed themself into a corner, a great spot to watch everyone while they idly swirl the booze in their hand. It's for show of course, the poor drunkards are what he's really after.

He watches one of them stumble out the door, and contemplates going after them. If he's quick, no one would notice a thing. No one has even spared him a glance, besides the bartender.

Unfortunately for him, however, his planning gets interrupted as someone walks up to his table. Their expression turns sour as they sit up, eyeing her.

"I'm not interested."

@ourladyoftears (hope this is alright for a starter)

The woman standing beside the table is... unusual to say the least. Her elegant silken ensemble looks out of place in both style and price. She smells faintly of osmanthus, and makes no attempt to hide her jewellery. What draws the most eyes, though, are the fiery orange fox ears sticking up from her hair, and the matching tail resting against the back of her skirt.

Despite having the bearing and finery of an aristocrat, she seems very comfortable in this seedy tavern with people of questionable repute. The stares don't seem to trouble her. In fact, she seems to enjoy the attention she draws.

Not at all put off by Varyne's cold greeting, she slips into the chair across from him with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is a low purr, soft as velvet.

He reaches for the bag and opens it, taking a few coins out to look at before letting them clink back into the pile. This would be more than enough for a horse, something he had been needing for a while now. If Jiayu can pay like this, then they’ll eventually be able to get better gear as well.

Unfortunately, Varyne can’t pass on this job.

"Naturally. Who am I to hold your vices against you?" she purrs, offering a tiny shrug.

The vampire has holed themself into a corner, a great spot to watch everyone while they idly swirl the booze in their hand. It's for show of course, the poor drunkards are what he's really after.

He watches one of them stumble out the door, and contemplates going after them. If he's quick, no one would notice a thing. No one has even spared him a glance, besides the bartender.

Unfortunately for him, however, his planning gets interrupted as someone walks up to his table. Their expression turns sour as they sit up, eyeing her.

"I'm not interested."

@ourladyoftears (hope this is alright for a starter)

The woman standing beside the table is... unusual to say the least. Her elegant silken ensemble looks out of place in both style and price. She smells faintly of osmanthus, and makes no attempt to hide her jewellery. What draws the most eyes, though, are the fiery orange fox ears sticking up from her hair, and the matching tail resting against the back of her skirt.

Despite having the bearing and finery of an aristocrat, she seems very comfortable in this seedy tavern with people of questionable repute. The stares don't seem to trouble her. In fact, she seems to enjoy the attention she draws.

Not at all put off by Varyne's cold greeting, she slips into the chair across from him with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is a low purr, soft as velvet.

He reaches for the bag and opens it, taking a few coins out to look at before letting them clink back into the pile. This would be more than enough for a horse, something he had been needing for a while now. If Jiayu can pay like this, then they’ll eventually be able to get better gear as well.

Unfortunately, Varyne can’t pass on this job.

The vampire has holed themself into a corner, a great spot to watch everyone while they idly swirl the booze in their hand. It's for show of course, the poor drunkards are what he's really after.

He watches one of them stumble out the door, and contemplates going after them. If he's quick, no one would notice a thing. No one has even spared him a glance, besides the bartender.

Unfortunately for him, however, his planning gets interrupted as someone walks up to his table. Their expression turns sour as they sit up, eyeing her.

"I'm not interested."

@ourladyoftears (hope this is alright for a starter)

The woman standing beside the table is... unusual to say the least. Her elegant silken ensemble looks out of place in both style and price. She smells faintly of osmanthus, and makes no attempt to hide her jewellery. What draws the most eyes, though, are the fiery orange fox ears sticking up from her hair, and the matching tail resting against the back of her skirt.

Despite having the bearing and finery of an aristocrat, she seems very comfortable in this seedy tavern with people of questionable repute. The stares don't seem to trouble her. In fact, she seems to enjoy the attention she draws.

Not at all put off by Varyne's cold greeting, she slips into the chair across from him with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is a low purr, soft as velvet.

His eyes, glowing a soft yellow, flick back over the crowd, before staring at her. Something about her smile, the way she talks, is already grating. They seem to have terrible luck, to run into people like this so often.

Varyne sets his glass down with a soft thud. Jiayu can see it's still full, completely untouched.

"I assure you, serjo, payment will not be an issue." she chuckles, interlocking her fingers and leaning her elbows on the table. She notices the untouched drink almost immediately, but doesn't mention it.

Her smile drops as she continues, her tone now more businesslike than playful.

She gains their full attention from her change in demeanor. They won't lie, they don't particularly enjoy when these types of people hire them. Usually they are up to something shady and are difficult to work with, while those who appear meek are far more agreeable. Still, money is money, and he won't turn down a job that will pay decently.

It is uncomfortable, the mention of others 'recommending' him, he doesn't quite enjoy having his privacy intruded, but that was to be expected at this point.

The vampire has holed themself into a corner, a great spot to watch everyone while they idly swirl the booze in their hand. It's for show of course, the poor drunkards are what he's really after.

He watches one of them stumble out the door, and contemplates going after them. If he's quick, no one would notice a thing. No one has even spared him a glance, besides the bartender.

Unfortunately for him, however, his planning gets interrupted as someone walks up to his table. Their expression turns sour as they sit up, eyeing her.

"I'm not interested."

@ourladyoftears (hope this is alright for a starter)

The woman standing beside the table is... unusual to say the least. Her elegant silken ensemble looks out of place in both style and price. She smells faintly of osmanthus, and makes no attempt to hide her jewellery. What draws the most eyes, though, are the fiery orange fox ears sticking up from her hair, and the matching tail resting against the back of her skirt.

Despite having the bearing and finery of an aristocrat, she seems very comfortable in this seedy tavern with people of questionable repute. The stares don't seem to trouble her. In fact, she seems to enjoy the attention she draws.

Not at all put off by Varyne's cold greeting, she slips into the chair across from him with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is a low purr, soft as velvet.

His eyes, glowing a soft yellow, flick back over the crowd, before staring at her. Something about her smile, the way she talks, is already grating. They seem to have terrible luck, to run into people like this so often.

Varyne sets his glass down with a soft thud. Jiayu can see it's still full, completely untouched.

It tasted great, like honey on his tongue, possibly the best drink he’s had in centuries. He’d have to find out what it was some other time.

He made a face at Nara’s prodding, clearly annoyed, but she did raise a good point. Why wouldn’t they just kill him? He was there, vulnerable and outmatched, yet all they did was imprison him.

He decided to worry about this later, though, as Nara continued asking her questions. They sat up more, idly swirling their drink around. “It’s been a few years, I believe… But to answer your question, nothing you would find interesting, just mercenary work and whatever else pays well. Getting a horse is surprisingly a lot more difficult now.” She takes another sip of her drink before setting it down. “I’ll admit, I’m still getting used to how much has changed, it’s a lot to take in.”

There’s a pause, and he suddenly leans forward looking at her. There’s an intensity in his eyes, as if he’s trying to see into her brain. “…And I’m still trying to figure you out. Why did you find me? I know you said so I’d be indebted to you, but were you expecting something, or is it just loneliness?”

"You're right. That all sounds dreadfully boring." She hides her smirk behind another sip. "You know, if you pick the right victims, they tend to have the best homes, abundant resources, and the most funds. You have eternity. Why waste it away working for others?" It didn't make any sense to her. Maybe she was still chasing her humanity? It begged the question of just how old Varyne was. They hadn't been too far off calling Nara a fledgling (despite how offended it made her).

His shift in posture and mood has her quirking a brow.

The question of loneliness hits her hard, and the cheeky smile she'd been flashing drops into a scowl. "Seems as though you have forgotten your manners in your old age." Taking another drink to compose herself, Nara tries to get back in control of the conversation. "I will concede that I had heard a strange rumor in the town nearby. That the undead was sealed beyond the stone walls. It was supposed to be a ghost story to make children behave, but most fables have some truth to them."

She always told herself it was because it wasn't necessary. After all, why do a bunch of fancy tricks when you can force the enemy down with your own hands? But, truly, he is still disgusted by what he is, even after all these years.

Varyne purses their lips at her comment and reclines back again. Their posture is annoyingly lax. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend."

They narrow their eyes as Nara retells how she learned of them, tilting their head to the side like a dog. She knew there would've been talk of her, there had been before she'd been entombed, but the fact they were still passing rumors of her was unnerving. They had hoped history had moved on by now, and forgotten them, to allow them to walk unburdened, but clearly that was foolish on their part.

"My blood is... Old, as you'd maybe put it. I still have the same weaknesses as you, however some won't kill me." There's a slight pause, and Varyne sighs. "Of course, it might have something to do with the nature of my embrace, but I admittedly don't have much knowledge on the topic. I'm afraid you're about as lost as I."

After a second of two of watching her flit around and listening to her blabber on, Varyne sat on the couch, finally. For some reason sitting felt vulnerable, but they just crossed their legs and folded their hands in their lap. He didn’t even glance at whatever drink she brought out, he didn’t trust it, instead he kept his gaze on her.

“There’s not much to tell. You saw it, it was just a stone room with a coffin inside.” He clicked his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to remember all the details. This had been many, many years ago, and unfortunately some parts of his memory was blurry. “….There was some kind of hunting party after me, I believe. They had found me at an inn, took me by surprise, and decided decapitating me would be too much of a mess for the owner to handle.”

Or at least, she would have tried.

Taking in the other's vague story, Nara looks anything but convinced. "So you would lead me to believe that a group of hunters went through all the trouble of hauling you out in the middle of the night to that stone prison instead of ending you? To what? Have you starve to death and go mad? Either they're completely deranged or you're leaving out some details." Swirling her glass, she idly taps it.

It tasted great, like honey on his tongue, possibly the best drink he’s had in centuries. He’d have to find out what it was some other time.

He made a face at Nara’s prodding, clearly annoyed, but she did raise a good point. Why wouldn’t they just kill him? He was there, vulnerable and outmatched, yet all they did was imprison him.

He decided to worry about this later, though, as Nara continued asking her questions. They sat up more, idly swirling their drink around. “It’s been a few years, I believe… But to answer your question, nothing you would find interesting, just mercenary work and whatever else pays well. Getting a horse is surprisingly a lot more difficult now.” She takes another sip of her drink before setting it down. “I’ll admit, I’m still getting used to how much has changed, it’s a lot to take in.”

There’s a pause, and he suddenly leans forward looking at her. There’s an intensity in his eyes, as if he’s trying to see into her brain. “…And I’m still trying to figure you out. Why did you find me? I know you said so I’d be indebted to you, but were you expecting something, or is it just loneliness?”

Half of her thought this might be a trap; some weird way to kill her—then again, Nara seemed capable, she wouldn’t doubt that she’d attempt it before if she wanted to. She did mention wanting to use him for something, and whatever that was, he didn’t want any part of it.

When inside, Varyne makes a face at the extremely stereotypical decor, swiftly hiding it as he feigns itching his jaw. He’s never met another vampire who was subtle, but he’s also never met very many vampires. Still, gaudiness aside, the place seemed roomy enough, and she certainly wouldn’t say no to having somewhere to rest her legs. He’s been on his feet for far too long.

After a second of two of watching her flit around and listening to her blabber on, Varyne sat on the couch, finally. For some reason sitting felt vulnerable, but they just crossed their legs and folded their hands in their lap. He didn’t even glance at whatever drink she brought out, he didn’t trust it, instead he kept his gaze on her.

“There’s not much to tell. You saw it, it was just a stone room with a coffin inside.” He clicked his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to remember all the details. This had been many, many years ago, and unfortunately some parts of his memory was blurry. “….There was some kind of hunting party after me, I believe. They had found me at an inn, took me by surprise, and decided decapitating me would be too much of a mess for the owner to handle.”

Varyne huffed, swearing under her breath as she stopped to consider her offer. It would be safer to have somewhere secluded to stay, rather than risk getting caught by hunters again, or having to escape the sun. This would mean having to be around Nara for much longer than she wanted, though, but she could survive that. If she doesn't end up attempting to wring her neck later.

The safehouse was off the beaten trail, tucked carefully in the forest a ways away from the port town. It wasn't fully inconspicuous, lavish and ornamented, just as one would expect from Nara's tastes. You'd have to really be looking for it to find it, foliage growing wildly on and around the building, but once you saw it, you knew this was no ordinary home. The interior was much gaudier than the outside, blacks, golds and reds making the inside a gothic palace compared to the nature on the exterior. All of the curtains were drawn, and Nara was quick to light some garish candelabras before turning her attention to Varyne.

Half of her thought this might be a trap; some weird way to kill her—then again, Nara seemed capable, she wouldn’t doubt that she’d attempt it before if she wanted to. She did mention wanting to use him for something, and whatever that was, he didn’t want any part of it.

When inside, Varyne makes a face at the extremely stereotypical decor, swiftly hiding it as he feigns itching his jaw. He’s never met another vampire who was subtle, but he’s also never met very many vampires. Still, gaudiness aside, the place seemed roomy enough, and she certainly wouldn’t say no to having somewhere to rest her legs. He’s been on his feet for far too long.

She slipped in through the door, sharp wine-red eyes taking note of her surroundings. The woman’s lip curled for a brief moment, ‘til her face returned to its resting position of stoicism as she walked to the bar and heeded the barkeep for a drink. Whisky, from the sounds of it.

Dariya was not much to look at, beyond being an odd sort of figure. A white coat hung from her lanky frame, beneath that a knitted sweater and red scarf. She was all-around well put together, even as a woman who had been traveling for some time if the pack on her back had anything to say about it.

The elf was covered from the neck down; the armor she wore was simple, but looked like it would protect her fine enough, and around her shoulders was a large cape made of gray fur. He had thick leather gloves on, which strangely had metal tips at the ends of each finger, almost resembling short claws. There was practically no color to be found on them, aside from their dark red hair, which even then was almost entirely swallowed by streaks of white. It didn't look like she had anything else with her aside from the book--there were no weapons in sight, and no bags of any kind.

She didn't move at all, only inclining her head slightly. It's almost as if they're expecting Dariya to walk over.

Up closer there was not much different about her. A pale countenance, dark red eyes. Brown hair that neared black, with a thick grey streak through it even if she still seemed a bit young for such. The scent of her reeked of alcohol, yet it was less than that of a drunk and more of someone who valued sterilization and cleanliness over all.

“Perhaps.. No one here is good for it.” His voice was low and gravely, and his accent sounded unfamiliar. As they spoke, pointed teeth flashed in their mouth. She closed her book, tilting her head once more as she studied her face, as if in thought. “You seem out of place, like you’re lost. Are you traveling somewhere?”

She slipped in through the door, sharp wine-red eyes taking note of her surroundings. The woman’s lip curled for a brief moment, ‘til her face returned to its resting position of stoicism as she walked to the bar and heeded the barkeep for a drink. Whisky, from the sounds of it.

Dariya was not much to look at, beyond being an odd sort of figure. A white coat hung from her lanky frame, beneath that a knitted sweater and red scarf. She was all-around well put together, even as a woman who had been traveling for some time if the pack on her back had anything to say about it.

The elf was covered from the neck down; the armor she wore was simple, but looked like it would protect her fine enough, and around her shoulders was a large cape made of gray fur. He had thick leather gloves on, which strangely had metal tips at the ends of each finger, almost resembling short claws. There was practically no color to be found on them, aside from their dark red hair, which even then was almost entirely swallowed by streaks of white. It didn't look like she had anything else with her aside from the book--there were no weapons in sight, and no bags of any kind.

She didn't move at all, only inclining her head slightly. It's almost as if they're expecting Dariya to walk over.

She spat out the last words, her eyes narrowed at the other. She wont allow herself to be made a weapon for anyone, not again. Especially not for someone like Nara. He would much prefer being imprisoned.

Varyne huffed, swearing under her breath as she stopped to consider her offer. It would be safer to have somewhere secluded to stay, rather than risk getting caught by hunters again, or having to escape the sun. This would mean having to be around Nara for much longer than she wanted, though, but she could survive that. If she doesn't end up attempting to wring her neck later.

It didn't matter. Nara didn't intend on dying anytime soon.

She spat out the last words, her eyes narrowed at the other. She wont allow herself to be made a weapon for anyone, not again. Especially not for someone like Nara. He would much prefer being imprisoned.

Gluttony. She bleeds the man dry, dropping his lifeless body to the floor, sharply inhaling through her nose. It takes her a moment to come back to reality, before she focuses on Varyne and the human woman. "Ah. So you DO use your teeth." She sneers, laughing. "I was wondering if you'd use your dagger again. Though, it would be such a waste of good blood."

Once she feels she's had enough, she lets her victim crumple to the ground, blood dripping down her chin.

He wipes at his mouth and kneels beside the body, whispering something in another tongue, one Nara may not recognize. A prayer. An old habit she's had since she was turned, her gods no longer answer her, so it has become more of a formality. A way to ease her conscience so she can live with what she had become.

When he is done, he finally stands, adjusting the old wolf pelt around his shoulders.

"And if there happens to be more hunters? We do not know who could be here, it would be a foolish thing to risk.. It is better if we are quiet, but I do have some questions, while we are here." He glances to Nara, his yellow eyes narrowed in the dim room. Her voice is gravely, one might liken it to an animal growl.

He takes a breath, obviously trying to keep himself from getting too snappy with Nara. “I only started watching them recently; they seemed like an easy target, and I have no reason to return here.” She glances up at the windows they pass, lowering her voice slightly in case someone might hear. He’s aware of how people are in his presence — typically with them feeling threatened in some way — and he can only imagine how much worse it is with another vampire beside him, making them even more suspicious. “I know the wife stays in the bedroom. She keeps the curtains drawn, though, so I’ve never been able to see what she does. As for the husband… He tends to stay up late. Sometimes he steps outside to check on the horses, but other than that, he’s either in the living space or kitchen.”

They continue walking, and up ahead Nara can see it; a large cottage made of neat stones with a tiled roof. Some distance away is what is probably a servant’s quarters, built similarly only smaller, and off to the side of the house is a stable with two horses inside. One looks to Nara and snorts, but doesn’t seem to really care that she’s here.

Nara takes in the information from the other woman, nodding and carefully committing it to memory. The sight of the cottage would have had her heart racing if it hadn't been stopped a century before. There was still excitement over the thrill of the hunt, but the only visual signs were her parted lips and salivating. "This will be easy," Nara starts, eyeing the horse. While she saw humans as insignificant insects, she'd never lost her love and fascination with animals. Maybe she would take them as her own when they were finished...