SALLY SLATER.

There was a quip about how old the vampire really was in there somewhere, but Henley couldn't bring herself to actually say it. She was tired of the fighting when it came to their species. With Eira's current... situation, she was starting to see things with a slightly more open mind. Slightly. "Not bad. Maybe a little agro, but not bad."

"I suppose I've gotten far worse than a little agro before. I can handle that." Words no longer meant much to Sally. She'd heard too many of them over the decades. "I like you. You seem reasonable."

"You lot from Gracey's Mansion really have the whole melodramatic thing down, huh?"

"We've had time to hone our craft." Lots and lots of time. Most residents refused to leave the Manor; it seemed that it was far easier to check in than it was to check out. "I know you're familiar with the concept."

One hand raised in return, a few fingers lazily waving in greeting. The coolness of the night air was a welcome change from the stale drafts that filled Gracey Manor. Sally made more of an effort to get out into town than the other residents did. They were all there for a reason, but a century had soured her on what had once been her home. "Not unless you're looking to get a drink. I'm not in the mood for business tonight."

"You do know that wandering around the woods at night is stupidly dangerous... Right?" Henley didn't think it had to be said out loud, but she was feeling snarky. It was rare that she wandered into anyone else this late at night while out in the forest.

"I wasn't born yesterday." It had been a long time since Sally had been born. Her age wasn't apparent on her face but she swore she could feel the weight of the years in her bones. Or, maybe William was right. She always had been a tad dramatic. "Would it be bad if I said I almost wished someone would try something?"

ANYA TAYLOR-JOY Vogue Australia

"Believe it or not, I already have a painting of me. A portrait, actually." It hung in the entryway of Gracey Manor. Sally hated it. It was a grotesque rendering with dead eyes that stared out at nothing. She wanted to cover it with a blanket, but every time she tried to her arms faltered. "I think one is enough."

"I was hoping Mr. Gacey was in, actually. I hear he's a bit of a recluse these days."

"That's a mild way of putting it." William had completely receded into himself. He wouldn't tune back in for anyone — Sally included. "If you want to talk to him, there's a long line. You may be a big deal out here, but inside the Manor? No one is special."

"No thanks, I don't really feel like bringing home a ghoul or something." Taylor wouldn't admit that the thought of stepping foot into that Manor freaked her out, so she tried to mask it with snark. Whether it was working, she wasn't sure.

"Right. Because ghosts are definitely real." Sally nodded slowly. "Don't worry, you're not the first vampire too scared to come in. It's probably for the better. We're crowded enough as is."

"I'll make sure to pass that along to the owner," Sally intoned. "That's the thing about the Manor: what makes it interesting is what people don't — and shouldn't — talk about. There's a lot of lost people there." It wasn't a sanctuary, though. It was purgatory.

“Sweet Sally, you know I am entirely incapable of not worrying about you.” Leota replied, a pang of guilt throbbing in her heart. She had seen the girl’s future, knew what was to happen, yet remained vague. Whether or not that was the right call was something that she could not forsee, but her heart still felt that this was the best outcome. Her remark about the newest additions to the Manor elicited a quiet sigh from the psychic. “Indeed, Master Gracey has made some...choices in who is allowed to reside in the Manor, but I’m sure this little phase will end. He is quite too  fickle, you and I both know this. If that doesn’t drive people out, well...” She trailed off, giving the other a knowing glance. 

Sally wasn't sure how sweet she was — or had ever been. It was easier to let the comment go ignored than try to get into it with Leota. "By choices you must mean the act of stepping back and completely checking out. William's a wreck and we both know whose fault it is." Again: Constance. "At this rate, we'll have a thousand damned souls by the end of summer."

"Right." A small chuckle escaped her lips, but the concern over the other's face was rising in her chest, "I know I don't look like much but I can handle troublemakers, horrors and tragedies just fine. Though, I hope you're alright?"

"You look — and smell — like you're human. With all due respect, the Manor would eat you up and then you'd never leave. I don't want that for you." It was crowded enough as is. Sally scoffed lightly. "I'm better than ever. You shouldn't worry your pretty little mind about the undead."

"Cálmate, you don't even know what I was going to ask." Nico couldn't help the snicker he gave as he eyed the person in front of him. "You seem intimidated."

"Am I right in assuming it's nothing good? You don't seem like a positive news kind of guy."

"If it helps not only your imagination to run free but gain courage to face all kinds of real life fears, don't you think is better to let those who want to believe just do it?" After all, there were many kids out there who needed those kinds of stories to find their inner heroes.

"Sure, yeah. Believe what you'd like. Whatever keeps the tourists away, I guess." Everyone who lived in Gracey Manor was there for a reason. In a lot of cases, they preferred solitude. "You should probably stay away."

"I heard the walls of that place stretch on their own." Taylor stated very matter-of-factly as she raised her brows at the other girl. "Freaky."

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of things, and most of them likely aren't true." The fact that William had become a recluse only added to the mystery. Gracey Manor was as much an enigma as its owner. "You could always stop by, you know. See for yourself."

"I don't think that statement is too far off when it's clearly crawling with vampires." Henley made a slight face at the girl, not able to really help herself. Maybe it was prejudiced, but she didn't care.

"Is that what we're doing? Playing up the big vampire and werewolf rivalry? It's stupid, you know. A Hunter doesn't care if you've got fur or fangs. They see the same thing when they look at us: monsters. But sure, let's all continue squabbling pointlessly. I've got nothing but time now."