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The musician is restless. It’s not an uncommon trait in the six-foot-six-inch Australian. He’s far from home, though that doesn’t mother him so much. It’s not the heat and the humidity of North East Queensland that he misses. It’s not the people and the lazy twang of the accent that he never hears here, ever. Only in that one woman, the one who leads a faction that he cannot ever condone. A man who never holds a grudge, Elliot isn’t sure he could ever forgive that woman for the things that she does, the things that she commands. He would not go to her, ever, for the comfort of hearing a familiar accent.

It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not as if he’s craving something familiar; he was turned when thirty-six years of age, and has been this way around two and a half years. That would make him, if counting, nearly forty. Over half of his life he had spent travelling the world, rarely ever staying at home – though he never did lose his accent. It’s not a yearning for home that has Elliot restless, but itchy feet. Wanderlust.

For so long he fought against what he had become, and sometimes still does. The way that he conducts his life, now, is a rebellion against supernatural change. He runs a bar, and a music shop. The weaponry exchange is the only indication that he has changed – but he had to have something to do with the weapons he continued to collect and had no need for. It’s a booming market in this city. He stays away from the weapon exchange; he flits between the bar and the music store, giving night lessons but mainly just tending bar. He lives an ordinary life in near complete ignorance of vampirism, its politics, and its consequences. That is his rebellion.

And he’s comfortable, too, for the most part. But his wandering life was taken from him without warning. It’s what he’s thinking about now, as long legs take him, meandering through the streets. What would he have done had he been introduced to this life slowly? If he’d been thoroughly warned? Would he have taken it, if the choice was given to him? The answer, more often than not, was no. He doesn’t feel like he’s living. Not like he used to. And every conversation he seems to have with anyone, they are depressed. Upset about something. Unhappy in their lives.

It’s hardly inspiring.

He yearns for the hipsters and the backpackers. He yearns for the people who share his philosophy; the one that dictated that he live life moment to moment, penniless, but rich in love and laughter and music. Always the music.

He rounds a corner. He’s wandering around Redwood, near the pub. He’s trying to think – how to change it? What he needs, what he really needs is to find a group of people who are like him. If he can’t travel, he needs to bring the travellers to him. The backpackers, those just passing through. They don’t have to stay. But he can harbour them. He can welcome them. And perhaps, in their company, the restlessness might ease.

Yes, that’s what he has to do. The second floor of the pub is already under way – renovations, to turn it into a backpacker’s hostel. He just needs to advertise. For now, however, restlessness moves him onward, onward, circling the streets like a man deprives of something precious – a man who is not a man, but a vampire with a body full of power that is never used. Overfull. Brimming, almost to the point of rupture.

Robert and Belle were out with their baskets, chatting happily as they wandered the streets giving people food, blankets, jackets, clothes, advice, money, directions and pamphlets on where the Sanctuary was. On the whole, Robert was quite content with his lot, and was so proud of what he'd built up in his couple of years as a vampire. Yes, he hated the violence and the apathy of them all, the two main sides of the city as he saw it. Those who got off their asses and killed, maimed, harmed, ridiculed and picked on folks they decided weren't good enough. While on the other side there were the people who remained on their asses and complained from the sidelines, never actually doing anything to change what they didn't like. Then, right down the middle, there was a small sliver of people like him, who saw what was going on, hated it and tried to damn well do something about it.

The Sanctuary was the biggest part of what he stood for and what he'd achieved. The fact that he, a guy from the streets, had managed to turn himself around. Had managed to get the money together to buy the land and pay for the building to be designed and built. Had managed to get together an amazing staff. Had managed to bring so much health, happiness and prosperity into humans lives really made him proud of himself. He was there for the humans, and the vampires who'd accept his help, when they needed him and he refused to turn any away. He had found an inner peace, through which he was able to channel his darkest thoughts into good and try to make up for the bad that others did. The Orphanage that Lizzie ran was a prime example of turning the bad of vampirism into something good. The children whose parents had been killed by vampires were all given shelter and looked after. Each had a college fund and never wanted for anything - in fact, they were downright spoiled by the loon! That was the sort of person he was, and that was the sort of thing he did. He was driven to help others, where he'd found no help himself. Not before he was turned - and certainly not after.

He turned the corner, Belle's arm in his, and he stopped dead in his tracks, pulling Belle to a halt too. She looked up at him curiously, worried in fact at the look that was on his face. She followed his line of sight and saw another man, just as tall as Robert, if not taller, wandering along and not looking the happiest. She made a move towards him, planning on asking if he was ok as she presumed that was why Robert was staring - but found herself held back. She lifted her hand and gently placed it on Robert's arm, patting it softly as she spoke.

"Robert? Are you ok? Why can't I go to the man? He looks like he needs a good feed and a bath, like he needs our help!"

Robert just shook his head and sighed.

"No Belle. That's Elliot. He was turned into a vampire by the same woman I was. He's a part of what was laughingly known as my family before they betrayed me."
"Oh.... well.... he still looks sad, like he needs someone. Shouldn't you try?"

He looked down at her, eyes like saucers as he wondered how she could ask something like that. But the more he thought about it, the more she was right. If he really was better than what he'd come from, he needed to prove it and rise above it all. Elliot did look sadder than normal - because in Robert's opinion, kicked puppy was Elliot's default look - which meant he needed to do something.

He gave his basket and bag to Belle, glad that most of the supplies were gone, but from the look on her face she wasn't going to manage it all. He took his bag back and switched around some things, stuffing the bulkier, heavier blankets into his bag and slinging it on his shoulder so she was left with the rest that was more manageable for a woman of her age. She again then stood there and made a move to approach Elliot, and again Robert stopped her with a firm look on his face.

"Hell no. You're going home Belle. There's no two ways about it. Elliot's not known to be a violent man, but he has his moments. I'm not risking you, you hear?"

Normally, she'd have argued with him. However, the look on his face told her that no amount of arguing was going to change his mind this time. As such, she nodded her head, pulled his head down to hers, kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear.

"Stay safe!"

And then left him to it.

As soon as she was gone from sight and 'safe'.... Robert shook his head at the futility of what he was about to do and then approached Elliot from the shadows he and Belle had been standing in.

"Evening Elliot. It's.... been a while. How are you doing?"

And there it was, done. His hand was held out to shake Elliot's and his mouth and eyes were smiling - but inside, he was kicking himself for opening up this particular can of worms.

It’s not that Elliot was unhappy. Restless did not equate to unhappy. He’d dealt with far too much unhappiness; a quagmire of despair and depression that he did not ever want to sink into again. In the month or two he’d sloughed away all the unnecessary distractions. If people wanted to talk to him, if they needed help from him, they knew where to find him. Otherwise, he made it his mission to never get involved in any of the petty drama that the d’Artois seemed to relish. People could sort **** out between each other, and if none of them ever got along then so be it. It was never going to happen.

It could have been selfish, sure. But Elliot had never really kept a family before and he was willing to admit that he couldn’t. It wasn’t in his skillset. Friends he could keep, yes. But he just wanted to have a bit of ******* fun. Was that too much to ask?

When Robert stepped out of the shadows in front of him, something sunk in Elliot’s chest. Oh here we go, he thought. He supposed, deep down, he knew Robert only meant well. But there was something about the guy that came across like some kind of fanatic; something akin to a Jehovah’s Witness. Elliot hated those people. He hated being preached to, and he hated being looked at like he was wallowing in some kind of sin – not in disgust, but in sympathy. He needed none of that ********.

Always amicable, however, Elliot pushed the hair from his eyes and offered a smile; it wasn’t a strained smile. It wasn’t an unhappy smile. It was a genuine smile. Regardless of restlessness, he was not entirely unhappy. The mood didn’t need to be forced. Besides which, he could not lie – not in word, or body.

”Robert,” he greeted. ”A bit restless. Not much else to complain about at the minute, though,” he said, again in complete honesty. Restlessness was the sole cause for his meandering; the scheming in his head was the cause for the frown etched into his brow.

”I hear you talked to Cytherea recently. Inadvertently causing her split from Doc. Vowed to thank you for that, next time I saw you,” he said with a broader smile. Of course, he shouldn’t relish in other people’s despair, but it was something that Cytherea needed. Doc was dirt, and she could do better.

What Robert had taken for unhappiness seemed to melt away as Elliot looked up at him and smiled. Robert stared at him, smiling a genuine smile as well, and studied his face. Try as he might, he couldn't see any sign that the smile was being forced or faked - and it was a surprise. A hell of a surprise. And it was nice. It was good to hear that the man was happy, and claimed to have nothing to complain about. Then Aurora was brought up and Robert sighed softly, his smile dropping as he nodded his head and leant against the nearest wall.

"Yes, she got in touch with me, really distraught after hearing how Doc had raped someone. I brought her to me and just comforted her, let her talk and get it all off her chest while offering advice and opinion. Though, it was when she found out that he'd lied about killing her, and had actually turned her that the nail in the coffin was hammered home. Your 'neice', her 'cousin' and 'step childe'..... I didn't even know her and Doc.... that.... well, that whole match just makes no sense to me. I honestly can't imagine a world where that makes sense - not with the stories I heard when I was a blood thief about him."

He shook his head in total disbelief at it all, and wished that Aurora was just a little bit more mature and worldly wise - so she knew that Doc, was someone you stayed far, far away from.

"I'm just glad she told you and that you seem to... have dealt with it?"

He asked curiously, remembering the fear in Aurora's eyes when he'd said she had to tell Elliot. The fear that he'd flip out, snap and try to kill Doc - which would have only ended in Elliot's own death. However, it wasn't the best of conversations, so he tried to move it on to something hopefully more pleasant.

"Anyways, I'm glad I could be there for her when she needed me - as I would for anyone I care about. I just wish the whole thing could have been avoided. But anyways, how's business? I spotted a place called Lancaster's the other day, down near Solace? That one yours?"

He smiled again at the man, shifting the bag on his shoulder to make it a little more comfortable to hold.

For a second or three, Elliot sunk into the same old guilt as he was accustomed to; the one that never went away, but which failed to cripple him. Rather, he used it to make him stronger. To help him to never make the same mistakes as he once did. The way that Cytherea had been turned wasn’t something that Elliot was proud of; any human yanked from their life like Cytherea had been was bound to go off the deep end. Only now did he wonder whether there was more that he could have done, in the beginning. Whether there was some way that he could helped Cytherea so that she would never have considered Doc a catch to begin with.

But the past was the past and the present was the present, and there was nothing that could be done to change how things had come to pass. What Elliot could be grateful for, now, was that Cytherea seemed to have come to her senses; she hadn’t changed, as she said she had begun to. She remembered who she was. Though – she had said she was going to be around more, and Elliot hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her since the discussion about Doc.

Elliot’s mouth set into a thin line, the familiar furrows folding into his brow as Robert asked if he’d dealt with it. Elliot had no idea what Robert meant by the statement. Dealt with it, how? Kill Doc? Track down a woman that had never been introduced to the family, and whose name Elliot wasn’t even sure he knew? No. Elliot hadn’t done anything about it. He never saw Doc anymore, and was definitely glad for it. Though, who knew what he would do to the fuckin’ weasel were he to suddenly show up?

Elliot preferred not to answer that particular question, and thus focused on Robert’s second enquiry.

”Yup. Shifted away from the Necropolis and started out own venture. Three levels – I’ve converted the second into a backpacker’s hostel. Kind of – renovations are nearly completed,” Elliot said. He wasn’t too sure how to go about getting the word out; he never liked the idea of being too commercial. Advertising was not his forte. He supposed he would just have to try to spread the word via his current customer base.

Elliot's face seemed to purse and tighten, and Robert had seen the face often enough to know not to push the matter if it wasn't important. And finding out if Elliot had killed Doc or broken down - wasn't that important. So, he decided to let it go with a simple nod of his head. When he next spoke, it wasn't about Doc and Aurora, but it was instead about Lancaster's and Robert smiled politely. However, the second storey was what caught Robert's attention the most. He didn't care about a bar where he couldn't drink or eat anything, and where the music wasn't to his own tastes. But the second floor definitely interested him.

"Oh! How cool. I'll keep that in mind. I'm always getting backpackers into the Sanctuary, using the pool and the services there - it's all free you see. They don't usually qualify for one of the free rooms upstairs as they have enough cash to afford a hotel or a hostel - So I send them off to various places I know of. I'll make sure and add you to the list of places to recommend if you like?"

He rolled his head on his shoulders, listening to it clicking a couple of times and then shivered.

"Oh."

He looked at Elliot curiously.

"Have you ever actually been to the Sanctuary? Would you like to come for a visit? I'll give you a bit of a tour so you can see what it is I've done. I'll be honest - I'm pretty proud of it all!"

He grinned and looked happy, excited almost, at the thought of Elliot coming to see the Sanctuary. There was a small part of him, that he didn't realise was there, that wanted the man's acceptance and approval. Some, remnant from when they were family - before Pi went psycho.

The expression that Elliot offered Robert was nothing short of wary. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he considered the other man’s apparent excitement and eagerness; he could taste the emotion, could hear it, even, vibrating through the air between them, rolling from Robert in waves. Thing was, as noble as Elliot might think that all Robert’s efforts were, he wasn’t a man that liked to be preached to. Solace, to Elliot, even though he had never seen the place, reeked of some kind of cult. And Robert reeked of religious fervor, even if it might not be a religion that he attends to. Elliot doesn’t know why, but there are people out there who sicken him, regardless of all their selflessness.

Being a reasonable man, however, Elliot knew that he could not judge and assess Robert on terms that he did not know to be true. He had no idea really what Robert’s religious beliefs were, and had he, on any occasion tried to preach and convert Elliot? Or had Elliot always run off before he could get started?

Finally, Elliot nodded, slowly.

”I can come have a look. For the sake of getting to know you a little better – but if you try to convert me to some kind of silliness, I’ll be out of there before you can say ‘boo’. Yeah?” Elliot said. There was a teasing gleam to his blue eyes, and his lilting, accented tone was not harsh, but cadenced in such a way that it came across as well-meaning, rather than as a threat.

”Any business would be welcome. I can’t see that I’d charge too much – probably a pittance, really. Question, though – how to you determine who has money and who doesn’t?” Elliot asked. He was always curious. Always had these kinds of questions up his sleeves. Sometimes, he might come across as a bit of a child, always asking questions. Pertinent questions. Questions that some people might find hard to answer. Always because he was curious about other people; he wanted to know how other people ticked. He wanted to know how their cogs were to different to his.

And Robert definitely was a different kind of specimen. Maybe misunderstood – and Elliot was guilty of participating in that misunderstanding. If he had anything against Robert, now, it was only a vague sense of wariness, though he wouldn’t be able to say why, or what had caused it. Classic Elliot – he never held a grudge, and was quick to forget any ill-will.

Robert nodded his head and grinned, pushing himself off the wall and starting to walk off towards Solace, then stopped with a thought.

"Will I just teleport us both there? Would be faster and easier really."

He stood and looked at the man, planning on answering his other questions once they were at Solace and looking around.

Elliot had very nearly insulted Robert. And afterwards, had asked what he thought to be a very pertinent question. Elliot was accustomed to people answering the questions that he asked. And, he was accustomed to people arguing with him when he purposefully attacked their beliefs – even if, in this instance, he had done so in a very covert manner. Maybe he was trying to push the buttons, trying to get Robert to open up and defend what it was that he did, and what he believed in.

Truth was, Robert proclaimed to be this amazing peace keeper and do gooder. A good Samaritan of the highest order. How, then, did he get himself killed so often? It was a question that Elliot dismissed almost immediately. He remembered Madison. He remembered certain things that he had said to her; how she had wanted to fight against the obvious powers in this city, and Elliot had bowed out. All because he wanted to steer clear of the drama. He only wanted to retain a sense of normalcy, and the vampires in this city, the majority, were assholes who couldn’t appreciate peace. Who relish violence.

Robert’s lack of passionate answer, his lack of any answer whatsoever, has Elliot wary.

Once upon a time he was a trusting man, and he wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. Sure. But now? He was just a tiny bit paranoid. He was aware of the drama that often surrounded Robert, and he started to wonder whether the guy might have something up his sleeve. Where had he come from, anyway? Why?

Elliot cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

”I’d prefer to walk, if you don’t mind,” he said, following in the direction Robert had already started in. He knew where Solace was. He knew how to get there, as he pulled up the map of the city in his memory. And he’d come out for a walk to clear his head; teleporting anywhere would make that particular need moot.

"Of course"

Robert smiled, nodding his head and quickly fell into step beside Elliot. It was strange to be here, with him, after all that had happened. Robert liked the man, and under different circumstances he was sure they would have gotten on like a house on fire. However, the man was weak - in Robert's eyes - and couldn't or wouldn't stand up for what he believed in. From what Robert remembered, they had very similar beliefs when it came to the amount of violence within the vampiric population. Where Robert stood up against those he saw as being wrong in their actions, Elliot just seemed to, vanish and hide. Elliot could have stood up to Pi, stopped her from being the violent **** she'd been - but he hadn't. However, Robert couldn't blame him or hold him responsible for any of it. That was all in Pi's lap.

He pushed his bag up on his shoulder a little further and then rammed his hands into his coat pockets, wrapping them around his middle as he thought over the answers he wanted to give to the questions and statements made a couple of minutes ago. He smiled a little, even chuckling at the convert statement. It had been made to him before, and yet it was always made in vain. He never actively tried to convert others to his beliefs - merely made comment where applicable on his own beliefs. If his comments sparked interest, then all the good and he'd happily debate the point with anyone who did so respectably.

"You've nothing to worry about Elliot. Most I'd do is try to persuade you not to be violent, that there are other ways to mend a problem or deal with an issue. But, as you're not that way inclined - you won't even get that from me. Though, if you'd ever like to know more about my religious beliefs - you just have to ask."

He knew there was a wax winged man's chance of flying to the sun and back that Elliot would ever want to discuss it, but he made the offer none the less.

"Besides. The Sanctuary isn't about religion, it's about helping people and making their lives that little bit better and happier. You'll see when we get there though, then you'll know for yourself what it's all about. As opposed to the propaganda spread by a few 'choice' members of our society."

He had to hold back a snort then, trying to remain polite and respectful. After all, he was sure Elliot was probably friends and family with some he was referring to, and he didn't want to insult the man. Reaching out with his mind, he found Belle and sent her a message.

"All's well. Elliot's going to come to the Sanctuary for a guided tour. Could you find out if there's a bedroom free, so I can show him one? Just so he can fully see what we do? Thanks."

He looked accross to Elliot, studying the man's face and trying to work out what the man had been through in his life as a vampire. Was it similar to what Robert had, in some ways? As far as he was aware, Elliot had never been to the realm of shadows, so that was one thing he'd luckily not experienced. But, he didn't know why, he always felt like there was some sort of shadow hanging over Elliot. It was odd, and probably a misconception - but it was how he felt.

"Well, sometimes it's easy. I mean, if they come in with fancy watches, designer clothes or glasses, nice cameras - they have money. But for me - it's when you feed them that you can really tell. You put a plate of food in front of someone who truly has no money and you will see them eat in a very different way to those who do. But honestly - I have enough to make sure anyone who needs or claims to need help can get it. There are times I have all rooms full and have to put people in my own personal home. Just so they have a roof over their heads. Perhaps, if you have the space, should it happen again I could send them to you? I'd obviously cover their bills for them so you weren't out of pocket. But I'm always looking for spare beds I can put people into!"

He was smiling, eyes gleaming as he spoke - because it was such a brilliant plan that helped so many people. Elliot included.