#pre-event

So Tatiana had heard.

Georgia wonders if it was one of her children who'd let it slip, or maybe even Dominic himself. It hardly matters, nothing escapes the eagle-eyed woman for long. Certainly not a decision to break with protocol and ignore an invitation to attend the big insult masquerading as dinner at Villa Solana.

But she's long since learned that it's easier to hear Tatiana out rather than refuse her outright. So she welcomes the woman into her office and takes a seat, pleased to see her even under the circumstances. But she also respects her formidable niece enough not to beat around the bush. "Alright, Tati... Make your case."

Is this a good idea to write about I'm think to mabe do a ending where he doesn't die I don't know yet

She winces, the name on her tongue feeling as foreign as the man who stood before her. Lilina sighs, shoulders slack for the briefest of moments before returning to her noble-bred posture.

"Um... the point I was getting at was... I've been... selfish and immature. And I'm sorry... for the last time we spoke." She stands there, wringing her hands together, stealing glances up at each pause. "I've been forcing my own narrative on you because... because I miss you."

Hector jolts to attention, blinking owlishly as Lilina's question sinks in. The book lain open before him is forgotten as he shifts his burly frame to face her.

She calls his name, and he knows it's his name, but it sounds decidedly weird. Coming from her, that is. At the least, he suspects that's the problem. Rubbing sheepishly at the nape of his neck, he shrugs, gives a slight shake of his head.

"Uhh... Whatever you're most comfortable with is fine with me."

Because if they were going to be awkward about the whole thing, they may as well not exist to one another. He'd have to patiently wait to meet future Lilina, and she'd have to go back to whatever old bastard of a Hector was waiting for her back home.

(Future Hector had best be taking good care of her. Or else.)

Anyway, he isn't sure he's up to the whole 'patience' thing.

Or so he thinks, but when she stands here before him looking so unsure of herself, his heart leaps despite himself and he finds he is unsure. Unsure of how to approach her, and unsure of what exactly she is saying, even if deep down he's gotten a vague sense of her sorrow from the very start.

It isn't terribly difficult to imagine where that sense is coming from.

"Wait, wait--" She misses him? Rather, misses her father?

He stands now, towers over her without meaning to, and places a hand on both of her shoulders.

"Don't tell me the Hector from your time is a deadbeat dad! Does he not even write you letters?! Why I oughta..."

He squeezes her shoulders lightly, then lets go when he remembers himself. Still, as he crosses his arms over his chest, Hector huffs.

“Henri.” 

The vampire steps into his apartment, taking his glasses off and placing them in their case. In his hands, he has an envelope, already opened. He knew the sender of the note, one Beatrix Von Brandt. Right, he taught her grandfather and uncles some magic when he was younger. He wasn’t exactly close, but their respective magics had the same origin - Clara, the English bandrui who had taught them and several others. 

“I’ve been invited to a Witch’s Gathering. I can take one guest, so if you’re coming, pack your shit already. We’ll need to get there a day early before all the guest rooms are taken - trust me, I don’t want to be stuck in a hotel for this.”

He shoves the envelope into their hands, earning a slightly annoyed but mostly curious gaze from the demonic entity. 

“A Witch’s Gathering, hm? I suppose I’ll have to look my best, then,” they replied, reading over the note. A formal event? Oh, that was their element. If anything, they were a bit excited to attend. 

They couldn’t but note the two names listed. Sylvester and Damian. Oh, what a small world it was. They would have to go in a different form - wouldn’t that be fun?

“-And for the love of god, Henri, behave.” Enoch’s voice was stern, red eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at them. “Don’t embarrass yourself, you’ll just embarrass me.” 

Arthur smiled tiredly at his guest when they swooced their way in and made around his dining table. He wasn’t hungry, but he picked up the fork and poked at some of the food offered. “Like a book....?”

It was October, and Ausra had spent the last several years knowing what that meant for her older sister. She’d spent most of the month dropping food and supplies, like muffins and cigarettes, at her sister’s door before knocking and leaving. She knew Rasa liked to be left alone, but she wanted to make sure she was taken care of. 

As they rounded into the last bit of the month though she’d gotten more worried, not having seen her. Not that it was it was out of breed for the older Lithuanian, Ausra just happened to be a worrier. So, packaged lunch in hand, she knocked on her older sister’s door, intending to stick around this time. If for no other reason, it would at least confirm that she was still alive. “Dew? It’s me. I have lunch,” she added hesitantly when the door wasn’t immediately opened.