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She was feeling very confused, tormented emotionally and very melancholy as she walked through the mall, not sure what to do with herself. Heading for her own shop she walked passed 'Curlew Musical Supplies'.

Alexandrea stopped and stared at the name. She had walked passed the door many times but only just now did it dawn on her just who might be the owner. 'Curlew'... that was the name Lancaster had given his guitar. Could this store be his? Something in her gut said that it was and so she went in to have a look around. There were quite a few customers milling about, more than there was at her own store. But she didn't catch sight of her old friend. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

Still though, it had gotten Alex to thinking about her old friend and she realized it had been far too long since they had caught up. To anyone looking in from the outside, Alexandrea Quartermaine seemed to be quite the social butterfly, with tons of friends. But the truth was far different. The truth was, Alex was lonely. With no family, human or vampire, and very few friends she honestly felt comfortable with enough to be her true self. Lancaster was one of those few.

And if someone is willing to still be your friend after you accidentally shot them in the groin, chances are pretty good you've found a real friend. How long had it been? Alexandrea groaned a little when she remembered the last time they had talked. It had been at the Necropolis Auction, last October. That was almost a year ago... what kind of friend was she, to let so much time pass without getting in touch?

She was sure where she could find him though. He had his own club now, not too far of a walk away from the mall, 'Lancaster's'. Heading outside, she noticed how cloudy it was, she could barely make out any stars and the moon was completely awol. She hoped it wouldn't rain.

A short while later, she was going in the club and after looking curiously at something she thought was called a 'fade portal. But resisting the urge to test it out just to see where it went, Alexandrea made her way to the bar. In honor of her friend, Alex ordered the drink he had introduced her to... a Hurricane. Sipping the drink as slowly as she could. (Meaning she didn't chug it down in one go for a change...)

Alex kept looking around, expecting to see her friend at any moment but there was no sign of Elliot. With a sigh, she waved to the barkeep. He gave her a grin and a nod. She waited only about a minute before he was able to come over. "Another round, Miss?"

She shook her head no and smiled. "No, Thank you. I'm actually looking for the owner of the club. Would he be in by any chance?"

"No, sorry miss. Tonight's the night he would be at his store in the mall. Curlew Musical Supplies. It's the 8th dimension mall. You need directions?"

Alexandrea giggled and rolled her eyes. It figured. "Thank you but it's fine, I know exactly where it is." Taking out a twenty, she set the money on the bar. "Keep the change."

And right after she left, it started to rain. So she used celerity to run the rest of the way, arriving only a little damp rather than soaked. Alex hung her hair upside down and gave it a shake then went into her own store to change into dry shoes before heading back over to Lancaster's shop.

Going back in for the second time that night, she still didn't see him but rather than ask around she decided to take a look around first. A charming lap harp caught her eye and she reached out to stroke the smooth wood grain of the instrument.

Curlew Musical Supplies did not just sell instruments. The business endeavoured to repair instruments. To build them, even. At least, that was Elliot’s goal. Soon enough, he’d also put out flyers that advertised a teaching service. Anyone wanting to learn how to play could come to him. Even if they wanted vocal lessons—Elliot thought that he had enough knowledge to share. He just had to stop and think about it for a while. See if he could actually succeed in throwing together a lesson plan or two. He wasn’t going to be a very good teacher if he was vague. If he didn’t know the technical language that he ought to adopt. He imagined himself like a musical chef—so comfortable, and self-taught. A pinch of this, a swirl of that. No recipes to follow, no proper measurements. No student could possibly hope to learn from such a higgledy-piggledy display. He had to make sure that they could understand him, otherwise the whole endeavour would be fruitless.

For now, he built the business slowly, from the ground up. Sell instruments, first and foremost. Repair instruments, secondly. That was as far as he’d gotten. And he had years to figure out the rest. There really was no rush.

That’s where he was, holed up in the small back room of the shop. There, he had a makeshift workshop. A young girl had brought in her guitar—an acoustic, a classic kind of instrument. Bullied at school, some kid bigger than her had taken the guitar, and had stomped on it. Elliot knew what that was like. His own Curlew had been stolen, once upon a time. She, too, had been smashed. But he’d had it repaired. She played better than ever, now. Sometimes, a few scars added character—the best kind of character. This he was careful to tell the girl. She’d been in tears. He made sure that she left the shop smiling. And no he was in back, making sure to keep good on his promise. Everything was going to be okay.

The casual staff held the fort out the front. Elliot’s long, nimble fingers fiddled and glued, sanded and painted, strung and twisted. He worked, immersed, until the girl’s instrument was nearly as good as new. With a gleeful kind of smile on his face—some might think he was a little insane—he applied the finishing touches. Over the cracks still visible in the wood of the guitar, he’d painted a curlew—a crude sketch, but stylistic, or so he hoped. If the girl didn’t like it, he wouldn’t charge her. But he somehow felt connected to her predicament. Music was her life. Someone had tried to take it away from her. This instrument was her livelihood. It was her Curlew. And he would make it special again.

The last thing he had to do was test the sound. To tweak it, until the instrument sang. The music from the overhead speakers had stopped, and the customers in the front of the store would have been able to hear him; he strummed and tweaked. Strummed some more, stopped, tweaked again. He plucked, a melody fresh in the back of his head. He grinned—tweaked, just one more time. And then….and then the instrument sang, and so did Lancaster. Of course he didn’t who could hear. He didn’t care that the girl’s guitar looked ridiculously small against his giant frame. He hunched over it, and played, and sang—a song from his past, from a respected band. A song that he had worshipped. A band that he had worshipped.

Like a hurt, lost, and blinded fool… I’ve said too much.

The lap harp had captivated Alexandrea. She had never played a musical instrument in her life and didn't know if she could even learn such a thing. But Alex had to have it. She gently carried it to the counter. Any other store, she would have just stolen it. Not because she couldn't afford it but because she loved the rush of getting away with something. Alex had some standards however. This shop belonged to a friend and Alexandrea would never steal from a friend. Hide their shoes in the freezer maybe... but never steal.

Her slender hands ran fingertips across the strings and she smiled softly at the small sound the harp made, it was sweet but sad and matched how Alex was feeling. While she waited to get a clerk's attention, the music in the store paused and a voice she would know anywhere started to sing. She hummed along with a grin, waiting until he ended before speaking into his mind.

*Hello, Elliot. It's good to hear you sing again. I missed it. And you, it's been too long. Any chance you have time to come out of your corner and greet an old friend?*

Elliot finished playing, and sighed. It was always a just that tiny bit difficult, pulling himself out of that state of mind that music gave to him. When lost to the music, nothing was wrong with the world. There was magic and there was wonder, there was escape, and ease, and relaxation. It was a way of releasing any negative energy that he might have had. If it were physically and feasibly possible, Elliot would play twenty-four-seven. But that would hardly be conducive to a well-lived life.

It was only mere second after he’d put the girl’s guitar back in its case that his head was invaded. At first, he was confused; as if he didn’t recognise the voice. And he didn’t, not at first. It was not Reilly’s voice, or Madison’s voice—the two that he’d grown accustomed to over the past few months. It took another couple of seconds for it to click; yes, he knew that voice. Alexandrea. He hadn’t seen her for… well, he couldn’t quite remember how long. He grinned, and closed the case. He clipped it shut, and made sure that the girl’s name was securely attached to the handle. He didn’t want to take any risks—that someone else might get the instrument meant solely for the girl. Once he’d put the instrument where it needed to be, he stood and wandered out to the front of the shop.

The only other person working was Zac—a kid just out of high school. He was in a band, and seemed passionate about the music industry. Elliot didn’t expect him to last long. It wasn’t that Zac wasn’t a good worker, but he had his whole life ahead of him. Elliot doubted that he’d want to stay employed at some small music store his whole life. He was off helping another customer; his long, scruffy hair was tied back in a pony-tail, and though he looked as if he had potential to be a complete lout, Zac cleaned up nicely. He wore black slacks, and a black, collared shirt, tucked in. He looked like a musician, and that was the kind of thing that Elliot like—people needed to look as if they belonged, and as if they knew exactly what they were talking about. And Zac was a master with the customers. Generally, he was just an approachable guy.

Elliot didn’t pay much attention to Zac, however. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he approached the counter, Alexandrea on the other side. The grin was still steadfast.

”Alexandrea,” he greeted with a small dip of his head. ”It’s been far too long. How have you been?” he asked. And he knew, these days, it was such a loaded question—just to ask, simply, how one has been. Vampires seemed to lead dramatic lives—his own included. And, these days, it was almost as if Elliot didn’t even have to ask. It was like an aura thrummed and hummed around each person; each aura gave off a pitch, indiscernible to all ears but Elliot’s. And each pitch indicated a different mood.

And he could tell, even though there was a smile lighting up Alexandrea’s face, that not all was well within. At least, he assumed—he still wasn’t sure whether he might be imagining things, or whether this was some extra sense that he’d somehow picked up along the way. Anyway, he waited for her answer. He would not pry, not when he was so unsure.

”Alexandrea,” he greeted with a small dip of his head. ”It’s been far too long. How have you been?”

Alexandrea had grinned ear to ear when Elliot approached the counter. She absentmindedly stroked the harp she longed for and then let go, ready to give her old friend a hug. His hands were buried in his pockets however, so she didn't press. Even though she was disappointed, it had been a long time and she couldn't blame him. She had always been more outgoing and affectionate than most of her friends. So despite her smile fading for a brief moment, Alex still smiled widely up into the taller vampire's eyes. Her own twinkling brightly back into his. Until he asked how she was.

Her smile stayed firmed but the shine in her eyes dulled as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Who me?" She asked, with a soft chuckle. "I'm always doing fine. I have a second store for my business now, it's right across the mall from yours. And I'm busy with the DTM and doing my art. The usual. Things couldn't be better." She swallowed hard at the lie and made herself smile wider. "And what about you, Elliot? How have you been? What have you been up to besides becoming a successful businessman?"

Her tone was light and playful and her poise one of confidence. But inside her hart was torn and as much as she was loathe to admit it, all she wanted to do was tell someone... anyone how confused and hurt she was. But Elliot and her had been out of touch for far too long. She really wanted to know what he had doing and how he really, honestly, was.

"Can you take a break and catch up? I'd love to buy you a cup of tea at The Dragon's Lair. Unless you prefer something stronger?"Alex chuckled and gave him a wink, remembering the night they had met and the bottle of rum they had shared. She still felt so guilty about having shot him in the groin...

Elliot couldn’t help but frown in consternation even as Alex’s smile upped its wattage. Something wasn’t right. She kept assuring him that everything was fine, but the vibe that he got was in complete contradiction to her words. All the woes that Elliot was subject to weren’t really woes. They were aftershocks, left over from previous earthquakes of varying scales. There was nothing too much that he had to be concerned about, in the here and now. There was always some form of anxiety, of course. There always seemed to be another tragedy waiting around the corner. But he couldn’t live his life in fear that something might go wrong. He had to just accept that life happened, and that he would step up to the plate when required.

And it seemed, in this moment, that he was required to step up to the plate. Not for himself, and in no demanding way. This would not be a challenge for him. He got the impression that Alexandrea wasn’t asking to catch up just for old time’s sake. It was as if he could hear a tremor in her voice, a pitch of desperation, a last ditch effort to make herself feel a little better if only by distracting herself with another person’s company.

Elliot did not hesitate to nod; he licked his lips and waved Zac over. He was not ignorant of the harp that Alexandrea had been holding, which her hand now fell away from.

”Zac, can you wrap this up for Alexandrea? She’ll collect it when we come back – I’m going to go take a break. You’ll be okay?” he asked. Zac nodded, his usual enthusiastic and overly excitable self. Even if this place were full of customers and Zac were run off his feet, Elliot doubted the guy could ever show any signs of stress. Sometimes he wondered whether he was not always high, or something. He didn’t really care so long as the kid did his job.

Elliot then ducked into the back room only to retrieve his wallet, and his phone, which he pushed into his jean pockets. He then joined Alexandrea at the front of the counter, his hand hovering over the small of her back though not touching her as he began to lead her out of the store. Only then, when he could dip his head and speak only so that Alexandrea could hear, did he answer her question.

”Oh, you know. Stressing over kidnapped childer, and the fact the rest seem to have fallen off the grid. Dealing with the existing ones wanting only to shoot people. The usual,” he said with a wry smirk. Ever blunt and honest. Every truthful. Never really truly able to lie, even about the small stuff.

”Tea sounds great. It’s been a while,” he said.

Was that a frown on her friend's face? Alexandrea worried she might have offended him. Maybe she should just leave. But she didn't. She had been feeling overly sensitive lately so maybe it was just all in her own mind. So she waited to hear what Elliot would say and hoped he wasn't going to send her away. She used to be so good at reading people but the last few months had her questioning herself.

As Elliot requested his clerk to wrap the lap harp, Alexandrea pulled out her credit card, not even nothing to use her powers to try and get a discount. She gave Zac a grin and a playful wink as she handed him the card. "I'll collect this back from you when I come back."

She had no concerns that the young man would do anything shady. Elliot was sure to have the human's information and Alexandrea could find him on her own if she had to. Besides, he gave off a good vibe. He reminded her of some of the kids that liked to but the glass pipes in the back room of her shop. He even smelled a bit like they did.

Elliot went in the back again and Alex found herself with her credit card back again. Zac had already run it through the machine and held out the receipt for her to sign. No sooner had she handed the store's copy of the slip back, Elliot had returned and they two were on the way to the door and out of the shop.

They walked across the mall to the restaurant, and going in took a seat in view of the fish tank. The place had a few customers but was not too crowded or loud. They would need to keep their voices low. Taking a seat, she smiled at the waiter who came by with two glasses of water and a pair of menus.

"Would you like to share a Pu-pu Platter, Elliot?" She asked in a normal voice, then lowering her tone went on to seek out more details about Elliot's childe.

"You had a childe kidnapped? How awful. Are they back safe and sound, or do you need some help?"

Elliot went through the social motions, smiling at those there to serve them, folding himself down into the chair as if he sat at restaurants to eat all the time. It was lie. He didn’t. Even though he could, he didn’t. Hardly anyone else he knew could eat. It would be insensitive of him to suggest going to a restaurant with people who’d have to pretend, or who’d have to sit there and watch him eat. Aside from the fact that their topic of conversation wasn’t exactly normal, they may as well have been human again. Elliot licked his lips and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders—he didn’t really care, and Alexandrea could order whatever she wanted to order. For a few seconds he was distracted. He might have worked in the shopping centre, but he’d never been to this place. He’d never been to any of the food places. He’d never really had the need.

Alexandrea bowed toward him, keeping her voice low so as to continue the conversation that had started back at Curlew. Elliot folded his arms in front of him, leaning on them, dark hair falling over his eyes as he did so. He’d tried cutting all that hair off several times, but it always grew back to the exact same length it had been the night he was turned. Not that he really cared. Long fingers pushed through the dark strands, pushing them up and away—and there they’d stay, probably for only a minute or two.

”Reilly, yeah. He’s fine. Can’t remember anything, and is a bit like a timid, agoraphobic housecat these days. But he’s fine,” Elliot said, dismissing the topic. He still sensed that there was something a little awry with Alexandrea. And he didn’t quite know how to broach the subject. Except to be bold, and to not beat around the bush.

”Are you sure everything’s okay with you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes a little as if he were asking some deep, philosophical question. As if Alexandrea’s answer might be able to solve a quandary that had been troubling him for years. Well, it hadn’t been years. More like weeks. But she would be answering more than one question.

Could he, or couldn’t he? Was this an actual thing? Or was it all in his imagination?

Elliot shook his head, indicating his lack of interest in sharing some appetizers. Alex nodded but didn't quite get why. They could both enjoy the tastes and it would look less conspicuous if they nibbled on something. He pushed his unruly hair out of his face and Alexandrea chuckled a little. Some things never changed. *Ever thought of trying some moose in your hair, Elliot?* She sent into his head with a wink.

Her friend went on to explain about his childe and Alexandrea was about to reply, offering her help again, when the waiter returned. After his query about if they were ready, Alex gave a nod and smiled up at him.

"We'll just share a pot of tea for now but I'll be placing a few carry out orders after we've relaxed. I've some friends I'd like to surprise with dinner. Will it be possible to get a whole bag of fortune cookies with the order?" Alex had a feeling Nimmy would prefer cookies to food and the fortunes might amuse him. The other human friends she had all hung out together for safety and could share the rest.

After the waiter left to go check, Alexandrea leaned forward again to talk in low tones to Elliot.

"I've never met your Reilly, but if there's anything I can do it help please let me know. Have you tried having his memories read?"

The tea was ready more quickly than she had expected and the waiter let her know the cookies were a go before setting the pot and two tea cups down and leaving again. As she poured herself a cup, Elliot asked her again if everything was alright with her and Alex slipped and spilled a small amount of the hot liquid onto her hand. The pain was brief and no damage was done but she winced at the surprise of it, setting her cup down to grab a napkin and wipe up the few drops that had hit the table.

"Whhyy woulddn'tt it bbe?" She stammered and tried to compose her self. She closed her eyes briefly and swallowed hard. She hated lying. And Elliot was her friend. Her voice gave out on her however, so sent sent again into her friend's head instead.

*It's trivial. Matters of the foolish heart and all that. Nothing life or death. Just me being... silly.*

Elliot nodded.

”Yeah. He was being mindblocked. I dunno, it’s just not working. He’s fine now, I suppose that’s all that really matters,” Elliot said. He wasn’t dismissing the topic because he thought it was unimportant. Reilly was one of the very few childer who Elliot felt actually respected him—listened to him, and didn’t hate him for what he’d done. Reilly was one of the very few who had asked for this life, and he seemed to be one of the ones who got all the damned bad luck. And yet he did not blame Elliot for any of it, and Elliot appreciated that more than anyone could know.

But everything was fine with Elliot. Reilly was back, and it was all okay. Whereas it still didn’t seem as if everything was okay with Alexandrea—and he almost wished they’d gone somewhere quieter, somewhere where they weren’t constantly being interrupted by waitstaff. Though he wondered whether it would have mattered. Even though he gently prodded, Alexandrea insisted on trying to act as if nothing was wrong.

Why wouldn’t it be okay? she asked. Elliot flinched a little, only because of the unexpectedness of Alexandrea’s voice in his head. Should they have gone somewhere quieter? This thing that he was trying to get out of her, was it something she couldn’t chance anyone overhearing? Or was it because she was too embarrassed to say it out loud, and it was somehow easier to send it straight to his head? He smiled a little, reassuringly.

”I can’t tell you why everything wouldn’t be okay. Haven’t seen you for months, remember? Got no idea what’s goin’ on in your life to judge one way or the other. But I mean… really,” he said, glancing down at Alexandrea’s hand on the table, before glancing up again. He leaned forward, just that little bit more.

”I’m not imagining it. I can…” he shook his head. It would stupid, out loud. He understood the urge to not say certain things out loud. And so he didn’t. ”…there’s something wrong? I’ve got a rather shoulder, you know,” he smirked. ”It’s rather open to being cried on.”