Mors Domina [Keara]

[Izidora (DELETED 6176)]

Izidora turned off the tap and stood up tall, staring at her dripping reflection in the bathroom mirror. Ashbourne Memorial was shut down for the night, and quiet as a grave except for the drip water. Snatching a paper towel from the dispenser, Izi wiped her face dry, thankful once more for the invention of water resistant mascara. Catastrophe was good for business, and business was booming in the aftermath of the disaster that had struck Harper Rock nearly two months ago. After the initial deluge of bodies sent for preparation and final arrangements, the flood had lessened to a steady trickle, and Izidora was exhausted. Even weeks later, she felt like she'd not had a proper night's sleep in ages.

The hotel had fallen by the wayside - thankfully undamaged and left to its own devices - while she focused on more pressing matters. Like funeral arrangements. Bodies didn't keep. The mental drain of tactfully suggesting cremation of their loved ones as opposed to standard burial was starting to show. Given the strain on her and her staff, cremation was easier; there was no prepping needed to ensure the corpse - most of which were thoroughly pummeled - was presentable to the masses.

But there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Barring the unexpected, the next three days were well earned time off. Of course, time off never really ended up being scheduled; it just happened. In her business, most everything was unexpected. Except under suicidal circumstances, no one really chose when they passed on; the difficulty lay in whether or not they'd made the necessary preparations to save not only the family, but also Izidora, a number of unnecessary headaches. Like the headache she had now.

Scrunching up her nose, Izi switched off the light and made her way out. After giving the showroom a final once over, the woman grabbed her jacket, changed into her walking boots and stepped outside. As always, she double checked the lock on the door. Home wasn't far, and she wasn't inclined to drive that night; maybe the cold air would do her pounding head some good.

[Keara Aithne]

When she first emerged from the Shadow realm, Keara took several childer that she thought might aid her transition into this new world. Now, several years later, she could afford to be a little choosier about whom she gave her blood to. While she wasn't above making a spontaneous decision, she preferred to take her time and get to know a little bit about her prospective childe first if she could, and almost always sired for a specific reason. Each and every childe she had, had a quality she admired and could learn from. Izidora, one of her current prospectives, dealt with death on an almost daily basis as she worked at and ran Ashbourne Memorial. This particular female however, peaked Keara's interest not so much for her personality as for what she could offer the family, and that was a way of disposing of human remains quickly and quietly if they needed it; not that Keara thought her family particularly careless in this way. It was probably Enver's latest error in judgement that cause her to give this woman further consideration, as Keara would rather sire for the individual, than what the individual could offer. After all, the family had several business owner's already and any one of those could likely start up a funeral parlour if it was something she thought the family desperately needed. Of course there was also the fact that siring Izidora would allow her to show her husband how a siring should be approached, which was with much thought and consideration. This was a lesson Enver could definitely benefit from as far as Keara was concerned.

Stalking people took little effort but more than a little time, and Keara's time was precious to her as even a moment away from her husband these days seemed to cause her heart to ache with an undeniable need to be at his side. Her recent holiday with him probably didn't help any either, as they had no-one to focus on but one another for almost 10 full nights. The ache she felt for him when parted had never felt so bad as it did these nights; since their return. Regardless, Keara knew things had to return to normal and she had to establish a few of her old routines. It was for this reason that she was waiting for Izidora when she left place of business.

In the immediate wake of the storm, Keara had been rather impressed by the female's commitment both to her business and the people she served, though perhaps that latter had more to do with the former, for without custom, the business would not be able to sustain itself. It did however leave Keara wondering if the woman was as sympathetic in her home life, as she was her work one. Izidora had appeared to be all business since the night Keara stumbled across her but then she didn't watch her 24/7, she just checked in on her from time to time, spending on average of thirty minutes a night observing the woman.

Having learned all that she could through observing the woman from the shadows, it was time to interact with the female so that a final decision either way could be made. It wasn't always necessary to "interview" the potential childe but Keara often found them useful as she seemed to almost always gained new insights into the person that way; even if all she learned was their tolerance for someone like her with broken speech patterns.

When the female left her business, Keara was standing a little way off down the road. She was dressed in one of her usual gothic outfits that didn't seem to fit with the weather of the city but she never cared about that, she had noted very early on that human females of this time seemed to prefer to succumb to the elements rather than cover their attire. Her dreadlocks hung loose over shoulders and she rested with her back against one of the streetlights, her arms folded across her chest as she waited in the cold night air.

[Izidora (DELETED 6176)]

Boots crunching through the snow, Izidora made her way across the parking lot towards home. It wasn't a long walk back to where a bottle of red wine waited, and so the woman often walked instead of taking the cumbersome vehicle currently parked behind the building. On foot, she could take the shortcut through the park and be home in 10 minutes, or drive around the block at a crawl in the same amount of time. At least walking, the funeral director got a bit of the exercise she desperately needed, and that her schedule often did not permit.

It wasn't until she crossed the parking lot that Izi spotted the woman leaning against the lamp post. It wasn't unusual to see people out on the street after dark, but generally they were walking. Not waiting under a streetlamp. As subtly as she could manage, Izidora found herself darting glances to the dreadlocked woman as she approached. The streetlight was between her and home and this time of night it was best to be cautious - to be aware of one's surroundings. Even in Elmworth, it never hurt to be careful even though all she had of value on her person was the set of keys she'd needed to lock Ashbourne Memorial's door, and the one she'd need to unlock her front door.

Not that she suspected the woman with dreadlocks posed any type of threat - not to anyone other than herself, at least. The weather had been warming for the past week, but the temperature still remained well below freezing. It wasn't yet spring, but the occasional warmer wind held the promise of things to come. But it wasn't quite there, yet - Izi's breath still formed a visible cloud in the cold night air - and the woman wanted nothing more than to suggest a jacket of some sort. But that would be rude; someone else's attire was none of her business, and so she kept walking, though she did offer the woman a polite smile once close enough to be socially acceptable.

At least the headache that had been growing all day had subsided; cold air and minor physical activity had been exactly what she needed.

[Keara Aithne]

Keara watched her potential childe approach but she didn't stare at her. She kept her eyes focused down the street and watched Izidora out of the corner of her eye. It was one of things you learn when you don't want to spook your pray, just as you don't look to the body part you are about to strike for if you are in a fight. Her eyes took in the entire picture and then her mind focused on the details that were important to her. As the female drew closer, Keara glanced at her, giving her a very casual looking over and returned the smile; even though smiling at non-family members didn't come naturally to Keara, she was able to mimic certain social conventions, this being one of them.

Izidora passed her by and was heading for the park. The park was the perfect place to turn her if she felt the need but first she had to try and get the female to converse with her. This was easier said than done as while Keara wasn't the most threatening of people, she was a little odd by societies standards and the moment she opened her mouth people formed their opinion of her. Most dismissed her as being either stupid or crazy while a few considered her sentence structure to be a sign of foreign roots and so they assumed that English was not her first language; this was possibly her favourite reasoning of the three, even if it wasn't true.

With the window of opportunity to engage the woman in conversation closing fast, Keara had to choose to ether act or put this 'interrogation' off for another night. She was reluctant to do the later and so she moved to the other side of the lamppost. She took in the surroundings and listened for a moment to make sure that the area ahead of them wouldn't contain any witnesses and then she pushed off from her resting point to catch the woman up, her feet closing the distance between them in a few quick steps.

"Excuse me? Know you what the time is?"

Asking for the time was usually the easiest way of getting someone's attention. Keara had seen this time and time again. It probably helped that sell her need for such information since she didn't ever wear a watch or carry a phone with her; not that people would assume the latter, since most people of this day and age carried a cell phone with them wherever they went, but she had no need of a phone, not with her powers. If she wanted to speak to someone she could connect direct to their mind and even allow them to answer, so she saw no reason to burden herself with unnecessary electronica.

[Izidora (DELETED 6176)]

By the time she'd stepped past the lamppost, Izidora's thoughts had turned to what awaited her at home. Take-out leftovers? What was it she'd had the night before? Had it been Chinese or Mexican? Izi couldn't remember the last time she'd had a home-cooked meal; probably before her mother had passed away, but that had been years ago. Her father wasn't much of a cook and neither was she. Her hands were suited to other, more grisly tasks.

Just as she was about to step off the sidewalk onto the deer path that served as a shortcut, that voice rose behind her. Izidora paused, glancing over her shoulder at the woman with the funky hair. It took her a second to realize that the words hadn't been said in the typically correct order, but that wasn't what she found most strange. Who in this day and age didn't carry a cell phone?

Fishing her phone from her pocket, a finger pressed the button at the top of the iPhone - a brand new 6 Plus that was far too large for her slender hands. The HD display flashed on, sending a burst of nearly blinding light into her retinas. Note to self: make background less white. "It's 10:48," she replied, flicking a dubious glance down the deserted street. How long had this woman been here, waiting in the cold? Long enough for the low temperature to sap the battery life from her phone; it was inconceivable to Izidora that she wasn't carrying one - not someone her age - so the logical conclusion was that her battery had die. Maybe she was waiting for someone... or something. The bus? There wasn't a stop here nor had there ever been, but perhaps she was confused...

"If you're waiting for the bus, it's two blocks down," the dark-haired woman added with a point to the west.

[Keara Aithne]

As the woman began to respond to her request, Keara watched and waited. The fact that she stopped at all proved that she had some manners and that was always something she liked to see in those she kept around her. The glow from the phone lit up the woman's finer features too. She was practically radiant under the unnatural glow. Though that was possibly a strike against her. Dark hair, dark eyes, she could be competition for husband's affections; though there was no room for that kind of thinking in her mind, and so it was summarily dismissed. The idea of Enver with another woman, while absolutely maddening, was equally as preposterous; she hoped.

"Waiting for the bus I was not. Though thank you I should for that information. Most kind of you that was, for that to say."

Extending a hand to the woman to introduce herself was probably a bad idea, as strangers on the street didn't tend to do such a thing but Keara did want to formally introduce herself to Izidora. For now at least, there was no reason to rush into the siring. If she was going to gift the woman with her blood, it couldn't hurt for her to try and foster some sort of positive rapport first. And so, despite better judgement, Keara offered the woman her right hand.

"My name Keara Marshall is. Might I the please off your name have?"

Of course this too was unnecessary. She'd been watching the woman long enough to acquire that sort of information. As it stood, she knew the basics and knew the woman to be somewhat of a loner. What with her propensity for spending time alone there was a good chance she might adopt the same path as Keara; not the woman cared about that sort of thing, she was always more hopeful that they would take to this life and flourish. Unfortunately for Keara, it seemed that many of the people she gifted her blood to, were unworthy. Of course she couldn’t overlook the woman’s carrier which tended to point to her being drawn to death which was a marker of the necromancer path. She’d sired several necromancers in the past but only one still remained and she rarely saw Mabel these days. Sometimes it seemed to her that her blood fostered either madness or darkness which resulted in her childer often falling upon the path of shadows or the path of the telepath. Obviously her blood had little to do with this, as a vampire’s path was determined by the one she was turning which meant something more disturbing perhaps and that was that she sought out a specific type of childe, even if she was always seeking to diversify.