Giovanna Acardia

Jackson had been standing under the hot and bright sun all day long in his ridiculous black leather and wool outfit he wore when peddling his produce to the townspeople. In the outside world, he had a certain aesthetic going, one that didn’t help his necromancer image much at all, but at this point, he didn’t care. His pushcart had a wooden sign nailed to it that said FRESH VEGGIES in a dripping red paint, which looked a lot like blood, he had often been told. It amused him, really, to have people look him and his vegetables and flowers over and try to decide how they felt about it as they approached and purchased anyways.

The day was half over, thankfully, and Jackson had sold a good portion of his product for the day. The stall didn’t bring in a lot of money, no matter how much he sold, so he was always glad that a majority of his product was purchased by the restaurants and grocery store in the town, directly from the soil in his back yard. He wasn’t the only produce vendor they bought from, but he was one of their biggest, and their purchases kept his bills paid.

Just as he began to hum the tune of the opening song from Beauty and the Beast to himself, he saw something – or rather, someone – to break the monotony that had become his working life. The person in question was what appeared to be a young woman, though he couldn’t exactly tell, thanks to her large hat. She had an interesting way of dressing, as if she were on the streets of some Mediterranean market rather than in the middle of a forest in a landlocked state. Her outfit reminded him of the bright and flashy prints his dear Theo liked to wear, and he wondered if the two were friends.

He watched carefully as she inspected his cart, and smiled when she eyed some of his flowers. It always filled him with a sense of satisfaction and pride when his hard work was appreciated and complimented. “Thank you! They’re not just for looks; you can buy them if you want.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Gio said with a soft smile, leaning down to inhale their scent deeply. Soft and light, incredibly elegant. She brought a hand up, running lace covered fingers over the delicate petals before she finally turned her attention to the young man behind the stand. He was handsome, but definitely interesting.

His outfit seemed quite a bit warmer than the day called for, and was much too black. Such a harsh color. While she did enjoy it herself, it needed to be toned down with other colors, he’d look wonderful with a pop of red, or purple, even. She shook her head, bringing her focus back to reality. “Do you deliver, perchance? I am afraid I am planning on doing quite a bit of shopping and it would be rather difficult to carry my purchases home.”

She ran her eyes over his selection of produce and flowers. The vegetables didn’t interest her much. She could eat, of course, but it didn’t have quite the same appeal as it did when she was still living. Giovanna couldn’t deny the appeal of a well cooked gourmet meal, though. Not that she had anybody to cook for her, currently. But that could change soon enough, if she had her way.

Business had picked up ever so slightly after the attacks of The Huntress. Yet, the bar was still quiet. It was eerie to Theo. She couldn’t even imagine what was running through the heads of these mourning patrons. 

Well, she could imagine it. She just didn’t want to. Instead of harping on old feelings and loss, Theo tossed herself into work. She took extra steps to make sure people were taken care of in the best way. So when the woman sat across from her at the bar, part of Theo wanted to give the woman a once over. She opted out and just turned to the mini fridge and grabbing a blood bag. She set it and a glass in front of the woman. 

“Are you wanting a red or a white?”

“Red, please,” Giovanna said with a smile, flicking a hand over the folds of her skirt, settling them against her legs. “A Cabernet, if you have it.” She ran pale blue eyes over the room, taking note of the few other occupants in the bar. The whole town felt tense, and the people in this room were no exceptions. She could feel the hair standing up on the back of her neck, an uneasy sensation creeping across her skin.

A heavy sigh of frustration escaped– he had told everyone on the Council he was done dealing with them until next week, so this had better be of the utmost importance– and he set his glass and book aside to go answer the door. A frown was solid on his features when he opened the door to reveal the intruder, horrible language bubbling up through him to toss at whomever had the audacity to bother him.

And then it all just– stopped.

He starer, a bit dumbfounded, at the woman on his front porch. He was quite certain he hadn’t seen her around town before, and even more certain she was a vampire. Surprise had replaced his sour mood, and he opened his mouth to speak. It honestly took a second, and he had to clear his throat and try again.

She waited patiently for him to find his words, feeling a rather generous confidence boost that she’d actually managed to render the man speechless. “Actually, sir. It is I who would like to do something for you,” she told him, an elegant lilt to her voice, a faint Italian accent having lasted the centuries.