Path of the Vampire forum

If one were to look closely, they might have been able to see small flashes of pale skin beneath the bridge in Coastside that seemed to be suspended in midair. In reality, the bits were attached to a lithe female dressed in head to toe in form-fitting black pants and long-sleeved shirt, despite the current temperature. The darkness of the night around her from the absence of the city lights to the new moon, suited her current mood quite well. Her eyelashes fluttered shut as she allowed her mind to drift for a moment. Slowly, images of a monochromatic grey area, much like the Shadow Realm, flooded her memories. Immediately, she knew it was not the SR, but rather a place she had been before, long ago, called Circe. It had been its creator that had summoned her forth to the place, startling her until she had realized it was only inspired by the SR. Its existence and monochrome scheme should have never surprised her, knowing the creator. It was something special he had shared with her and was an experience she would probably never forget.

With a nearly silent sigh, her eyes opened, scanning the darkness around her. Fingers gently twirled around the pair of roses she had picked up from Mortll’s shop, Jardin De Fleurs, earlier. One was a beautiful deep blue while the other was black as the night. Neither was a color found naturally, which suited just fine and only seemed to add depth to the meaning. Holding the pair of the stems at the base of the flowers, taking care not to crush the blossoms, she swiftly entwined the stems. Stepping close to the water, an image of the one that had once saved her from everyone and herself came to mind, speckled with fond memories. After a moment, she knelt down, gently caressing the blossoms before releasing them into the running water. No words were spoken as they were neither needed nor appropriate in her mind. Sitting back on her ankles, she watched the pair ride the river’s current until they were out of sight. Rising, she took one last look at the river before heading upwards across the bridge towards her home.

A quick glance at the clock told the woman that she had plenty of time to shower and get ready for her guest. Striping off her clothes as she went, she shoved them in the hamper tucked just outside the bathroom. Turning the handles on the faucets to the correct positions, she hummed softly as she returned to her room to retrieve her outfit, hanging it on the door as she returned. Checking the water temperature, she slipped beneath the stream, tugging the curtain closed as she did so. She had just begun lathering the shampoo through her hair when a familiar, usually annoying voice floated into the air. “Do you really think this is wise?” it questioned.

She groaned softly, though not overly surprised by its appearance. “Archon,” she chided gently, “I swear you must have been a pervert in the past.” Tilting her head back, she shook her raven tresses as she combed her soapy fingers through the strands. “Why wouldn't it be wise?” Why, oh, why she wondered, did he always seem to wait till she was in the shower to want to talk?

“It’s dangerous. You’re putting your life on the line, you know.”

She growled as she rinsed her hair, “Wouldn't be the first time, you know. Probably won’t be the last time. Besides, he’s had my life in his hands, many times. I trust him…” She paused for a moment, rubbing her temples.

“And look where that got you with the last one,” the wraith interrupted.

“GET. OUT,” she yelled at the damned spirit, “I swear I should just get Mortll to banish your *** back to the Shadow Realm.” She knew it was pointless to yell at him as he had a mind of his own, but he had hit a raw nerve.

“You love him.” It was definitely a statement and not a question.

Sticking her head around the curtain, the vampire threw the plug for the tub at the vaguely shimmering outline. Damn ******** always seemed to know when she was going to do something like that and seemed to fade to nearly invisible just in time. She knew things would just go through him, anyway, but sometimes it got the point across. Leaning her forehead against the cool side of the shower, she calmed herself slightly. “He helped me when no one else would. Saved me from the city and from myself, even though he knew if he had been found out, they probably would have killed him as well. Yet… he did it, and continued to. I’m not sure I can say for certain about love. But you can’t go through that kind of thing without forming some sort of bond. And…I was very fond of him.”

“You are fond of him,” the annoying wraith corrected.

She was glad she had just put down the bottle of conditioner, otherwise she would have thrown that at him as well. With her luck, however, it would have probably broke open upon hitting the wall, leaving her with a mess to clean up. “WAS. It’s hard to be fond of one that no longer is.”

“Is he not now a she?”

This time the washcloth came sailing over the top of the curtain rod, landing neatly in front of where the space the wraith currently occupied. “You make it sound like a simple change of genders. But no, Superbia is definitely not my Azraeth any longer. Might technically be the same, but most certainly is not. “

“Perhaps he will return?”

Rinsing the conditioner from her hair, she counted to ten in attempt to control her temper. It was just her luck to get stuck with a perverted, noisy, opinionated wraith. “Unlikely. For that, she would most likely have to die so a new body could be taken. And that is not something I would wish on anything and it wouldn't be a guaranteed thing anyway. No, I rather be left with fond memories than false hope. Now, can we PLEASE move to a different topic if you insist on remaining while I shower?”

“Are you sure you can trust this one with your life?”

There was a soft groan from her lips, she had forgotten how overprotective he was as well - not that he could physically do much about it. She ignored the question for the moment as she looked around for her shower poof, sighing as she realized she had forgotten to get a new one after destroying the last. Remembering she had also chucked the washcloth at Archon earlier, she sighed and just squirted the body wash into her hands. “I am. I have. Cat trusts him. Wolf trusts him. I have complete trust in him.”

“You’re going to get hurt.”

What the hell was his problem tonight, she pondered as she finished washing her body, stepping back in the stream to rinse off the wash. “Getting hurt is inevitable. But, if you mean by him, never intentionally.”

“Then, why?”

There was the urge to bang her head against the wall. In reality, she wanted to wring his neck, but that was impossible. “Why show him? Because, it’s time for him to know,” she replied softly as she checked her legs, determining that they didn't need shaving, yet.

“Why?”

“What the **** are you, a toddler?” She asked, exasperated. Twisting the excess water from her hair, she considered her reasons, “He deserves to know.”

“Why him and not Cat?”

She shook her head as she reached out and snagged the smaller of the two towels from the bar. Wrapping her hair up in it, she secured it to the top of her head before poking her head around the curtain, “Are you jealous, or something? I’m sure someday, far down the road, I may show her.”

“You didn't answer the question.”

The other towel disappeared behind the curtain as the raven-haired woman dried off. Once the towel was securely wrapped about her frame, she drew back the curtain, glaring at the wraith. “And you didn't answer mine,” she countered as she stepped out of the tub. “Now will you please leave so I can get dressed?”

“No.”

She growled at him, stepping over to get the hanger off the door. Turning her back on him, she dropped the towel, allowing it to puddle on the floor as she slipped the dress over her head, gently tugging it into place. It was a simple spaghetti strap short dress in her customary black color.

“Is that really what you’re going to wear?”

“Yes,” she shook her head as she bent over to retrieve the towel. Hanging it over the bar, she asked, “Why?”

“It’s not really appropriate.”

She could sense his disapproval as she untwisted the towel from her tresses, hanging that one alongside the other. Finally turning around, she frowned softly, watching for a moment as his shadowy hand ran over the chocker she laid out on the sink earlier. “You are jealous.” This time it was a statement rather than the question.

“Why not jeans and a shirt?”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” she questioned as she moved over to the sink, picking up the choker. Securing it around her neck in its customary spot with a soft sigh, she looked over at him. “What?”

He indicated the choker, “Why?”

She looked at him oddly, wondering why he chose now, many months later, to ask about it. Turning back to the sink, she began to comb her hair out. “You know I only take it off to shower and if I’m going on a hardcore hunt.”

“Yes, but not why.”

A frustrated noise came from the woman as she sincerely debated dialing up Mortll and asking the woman to banish the spirit to the Realm. “It was a gift. One with significant meaning.” She really was not in the mood at the moment to explain the intricacies of the relationship to her wraith, particularly given he was probably already aware of them.

“You love him.”

Goddamn that bloody thing. The only sound for several moments was that of the comb moving though the raven locks. Finally she set the comb on the counter, turning her head towards the visible figure. “I do.”

“Is he not with her?”

“Mhm,” she replied softly as she rummaged through her basket of hair clips. Finding the one she wanted – a simple stylized flower in antique silver – she placed it on the counter. Taking a section of hair on one side of her face, she twisted it lightly. Holding it, she repeated the same on the other side. Bringing the ends of the twists together in the back, she secured them using the clip. “It wouldn’t matter, though. One cannot be had without the other in some capacity. It was simply a matter of time.”

“You’re actually fine with that?”

She picked up immediately on his incredulous tone. “Yes,” she replied simply, scooping up the discarded hanger and returning to the bedroom to put it away. She knew without looking that he was following her, waiting for a better reply. “I love them both, you know. In different ways, of course, but I only want what makes them happy. That I have their support, friendship and everything else, is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“Vampires these days have sure become odder than in my day.”

“You know I could say the same about wraiths.”

“Don’t sass me, woman.”

“Or what, you’ll take some of my essence? Do and I swear you’ll be on the other side of the veil within a half hour.”

“You’re sure testy. What no shoes?”

“In my own home?” she queried, “No. Besides, I like to tuck my feet beneath me while on the couch and heels would only dig into unwanted places.”

“What about flats?”

“Why are you so insistent about shoes?” She looked at his curiously as he didn’t reply to that. Shaking her head, she saw that far more time had passed than she had thought and that he should arrive shortly. Ignoring Archon, she stepped over to the table where a single black rose sat in a vase. She ran her finger over it lightly, still amazed it had remained in such perfect condition for so long.

“Did he give you that too?”

She rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “No, I got that long before I met him. “ Sighing softly, she continued, “Wolf did, if you must know, as a welcome back from the Shadow Realm.” A few moments of silence passed as the wraith realized it was best not to question the vampire further on that topic. Her fingers traced along the cover of a seemingly ordinary black book that sat upon the same table. A single finger slipped off the cover to trace down the spine, as she spoke, “Would you please leave now?”

“No.”

There was the count to ten again as she desperately tried to keep her emotions in check. “Why not?”

“Don’t want to.”

“I swear to the gods, you are going to drive me batshit crazy,” she growled. “Now get out.”

“You already are crazy.”

The raven-haired vampire lost it at that simple statement. A rock that had been placed on the same table was thrown at the damnable wraith. Sailing right through him, it crashed into the wall. She had a momentary thought of hoping that her guest wasn’t outside at the moment before turning her full attention back to the wraith. “GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. GODDAMN ARCHON, LEAVE.” Thankfully, the wraith’s sense of self-preservation prevailed and he faded out of sight as he walked through the door to the outside. She sighed softly as she leaned her forehead against that same door, trying to center herself. The knock on the door drew her back to the current moment. Her senses told her that it was her expected guest, so she opened the door, with a gentle smile, “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

Aside from the table with the flower and book in one corner, the immediate living area only contained a couch with a lower table in front of it along with a small stereo setup. She bit her lip as she gestured him into the small, sparse room, “It’s a bit cozy, sorry.”

Taranto rose from his desk and stretched, arching his back, listening to the *snaps* and *pops* as his spine realigned. The last of his wounds had healed, and it felt good. He had been out of public sight for a week now, the staff handling most things. Tempy's lessons were almost finished, She was a fast learner, and a better hacker than he was. She had just needed to be pointed in the right direction...the rest she handled intuitively. Reaching down he sent his comp to sleep, then headed for the stairs. Slipping off his clothes, as he passed thru the rooms, finally he reached the solarium and dove into the pool. Powering through lap after lap he let his mind wander over the days events, and the night to come.

Zila had invited him over, said she wanted to talk. His mind wandered, it had been so long since he had talk to any of the Wests, a passing nod or hello, when met in the sewers. A discount in the cafe. He shook his head, but it had been a long time since any had actually wanted to 'talk' to him. Except for Z she still sent him texts, and when he was in the catacombs would sit awhile. And he still helped her, when she needed it, which wasn't often now that she had, bridged into more powers. He wondered what it was about, what she wanted to share.

Forty-nine, fifty. gliding to the ladder the lithe mystic slipped from the pool an let the warm water of the wall shower head cleanse him, while his mind searched his limited wardrobe. Stepping clear he rung out his long onyx locks, then reached for a towel, quickly shedding any left over water. Walking deeper into his apartment he paused in front of a mirror, then stepped into the closet. Dark blue silk slid over lightly muscled chest whispering softly as he worked the buttons. Black jeans and Georgia loggers completed the look. Stepping once more to the mirror he stared into it again as his fingers deftly braided his hair into one long ravenesque braid, then sadly turning he wished that someday he could look into the mirror...and see something besides the opposite wall. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander searching out Z, then with a soft hiss of wind he disappeared.

Reappearing at her domicile, Taranto stepped forward to knock, when he heard something from inside. A shout, followed by a crash, and more shouting. Definitely Zila's voice. Drawing his matched Sigs, he dropped into a crouch as he knocked then prepared to kick the door. ''Z?'' he called, just as the door opened....his eyes roved the room as he nodded silently to her greeting. then stepping inside, his voice lowered as he turned to her, ''who was it, and where are they?''

The raven-haired woman blushed lightly as she surveyed the scene that greeted her when she opened the door. There was no doubt that he had heard at least part of the commotion between the shadow and her wraith. It also told her that the bloody menace had made himself invisible to others as he had departed. “Hi, T,” she greeted him as she moved out of the door to allow him to enter, watching as he ensured that things were fine. She smiled gently, truly appreciating his concern for her well-being. Sighing softly, she shook her head, “That would have been my bloody, annoying wraith, Archon. Either his self-preservation instinct kicked in or he didn’t want to test his theory that I wouldn’t ask Mortll to banish him back beyond the Veil.” Sensing that his next question would most likely ask what the spirit had done to warrant such behavior, she continued as she closed the door, “He spent the better part of the last two hours questioning things and he said something that hit a nerve for the third or fourth time.” She gestured to the couch, in an unspoken invitation to take a seat. “I kind of lost my temper,” she admitted sheepishly, “Sorry about worrying you unnecessarily, but thank you. Both for coming and for being concerned”

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she left him to get comfortable on the couch as she walked over to the table. Her finger traced down the spine of the familiar book lightly a couple times before she picked it up. To one who didn’t know her, it would have appeared that she was debating or contemplating something as if she was hesitant over it. In reality, though, she was simply mentally preparing herself for the night, knowing that it was likely to be an emotionally draining one, at least for her. It was not the information to be divulged with which she was concerned for she had already relived it once decoding the words within the book. Rather, it was his reactions that made her apprehensive. While she was sure he would understand a fair bit of what she had done and what her life had been like, there were more than a couple tidbits of information that he may not and those were what worried her. Her hope, at the moment, was that he hadn’t picked up on her slight unease as she did not want him to think it was due to his presence. Finally picking up the volume, she walked over to the couch.

“You look nice,” she commented, softly, lightly, as she folded her frame down upon the opposite end of the couch, facing him. Her feet tucked neatly beneath her body almost automatically in a well-rehearsed routine devoid of her usual backpack and pillows. “I’ve missed this,” she laughed quietly. She could well recall the times that they, along with others, had gathered in the Penthouse and how often it was just the pair of them with the occasional presence of Catalina. While she was fond of the Spanish woman and quite close to her, it was Taranto that was she was truly the closest to – both within the family and within the city. He had managed to get in and see her in a way that no other truly had since she came to Harper’s Rock. He saw past the broken, painfully shy vampire and her unique choices to slowly draw her back to her former self. In all honestly, she owed him her life many times over, though he probably was unaware of that.

“I’m glad you came. I…want to share this with you,” she indicated the book, sure he would recognize it from the time she had carried it around with her, glancing at him shyly as she continued, “You’ve often asked me about it and I’m finally ready to share it with you.” The book she held for a moment longer, giving it a fleeting wistful look, before putting it on the coffee table. It would not help her initially, as it did not even contain more than a mere whisper of the first thing she wanted to diverge to him. It would have been foolhardy to keep a record, even encrypted, of the event, knowing the outcome it could bring. His reaction to it would either allow the night to continue or bring it to an early close. While she had silently hoped and prayed it would be the former, she also knew that there was a chance for the latter. “But first…. There’s something you need to know that isn’t in there.”

Taranto shrugged at her apology, ''if all is well, there is no need to apologize. There are many that have a problem with those that have you particular.....addiction....I was just worried that some of those might have ganged up in an effort to take you from me.'' It had been quite awhile since he had crossed paths with the diminutive shadow. They used to meet in the catacombs when he hunted there, but now he seldom hunted at all now. There had also been the weekly lineage get togethers, but they too had fallen to the side. He wasn't really sure why she had invited him over, but found that he was strangely happy that she had. Listening to her, he looked down as she complimented him, but then looked up quizzically as she placed her ever present book on the coffee table.

I’m glad you came. I…want to share this with you,

The lithe mystic was astonished, he had never seen her without it, and never seen her share it with anyone, no matter how much he had wheedled and nagged, he had never gotten a peek, and now she wanted to share? At a loss for words he just reached and slowly and rest his hand on her knee, as he thought to her, ''Ty''.
Settling back he waited, curious to heart what she had to say. '' Why are you so nervous Z?'' Taranto had never judged her, and often offered her substance, so was puzzled at what made her uncomfortable

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Zila> The small shadow gently chewed on her lip as she went over his earlier words as she waited on his current reaction. It was a bit surprising, though not entirely so, that he was worried about those that might harm her. The thought might have offended some, but she knew that he didn't mean it as a sign that she was weak and needed protection, but rather as a part of their friendship. She looked up with a soft smile as she felt his hand on her knee followed by the voice in her head. For once, the mindspeech didn't surprise her as she knew that this was most likely, at least slightly, overwhelming for both. There was the soft chew of her lip again as she considered his question. On one hand, she trusted him and knew she really shouldn't be nervous. But on the other, this initial secret could be the undoing of their friendship and she didn't think she was strong enough to handle that consequence. Looking down for a moment, she untangled her fingers from her skirt where they had been twisting the fabric as an outlet for her nervous energy. A single hand brushed against his, resting lightly on top of it, needing the small bit of contact, as she looked up. “Because, it’s probably the one thing that could cause you to absolutely hate me,” she admitted ever so softly. “I trust you. I know you’ve never judged me, who or what I am…and that you’d never willingly hurt me. But… I’m not so sure about this.”

<Taranto> Listening to her, Taranto wondered what could be in her past that was so traumatic...not being one for long wordy dialogues, he squeezed her hand reassuringly, “Z talk to me, do you need blood?”

<Zila> She smiled at him with a soft laugh, "I could nibble." Returning the squeeze softly, she continued, wanting to deal with the issue first. She put forth the question on whether or not he remembered an incident that had occurred around the time they had met.

<Taranto> Taranto nodded solemnly “I remember, what does that have to do with you?”

<Zila> "A fair bit," she bit her lip. "Did Wolf, or anyone, ever tell you guys how that whole situation came to be?"

<Taranto> The mystic’s face darkened… “He has never told us **** about anything...I once thought he cared, but I have been proven repeatedly wrong....no, no he didn't.”

<Zila> Truth told, the woman wasn't entirely surprised by this. After all, the same man had 'forgot' to add her to the family Crownet for nearly three-fourths of a year. Slowly, softly she began to explain the background for the situation in question. Detail after detail came together to build a hopefully solid picture for the male. Pausing for a moment, she waited to see if he followed thus far.

<Taranto> Taranto nodded, “It seldom is a good reason in this town.”

<Zila> "Too true," she agreed, before continuing her tale. After a few moments, she stopped to collect her thoughts as she was getting closer to her secret making her tale harder.

<Taranto> “But how did that affect Wests? We had nothing to do with that.”

<Zila> "It doesn't, at that point,” she spoke lightly, before explaining the vague connection.

<Taranto> “More to the point, how did it affect you?”

<Zila> A soft groan passed her lips; her eyes closed for the briefest of moment as she spilled her secret. It was a quiet admission for all its weight. Her free hand twisting her skirt lightly as she watched him.

<Taranto> Stroking her thigh gently, he looked at her puzzledly...”How were you drawn in? Why do you think this would upset me?”

<Zila> There was a soft sigh of relief that he didn't bolt for the door as she relaxed slightly. Deciding to tackle his second question first, as she found it to be the odder of the two, "It’s very counter to things you had told me where important to you when I was finally introduced to West and we began talking." Thinking for a moment, she started on his other question, slowly explaining how she had become tangled in the twisted web that had been spun. She smiled gently, "There were some good people involved too, though.”

<Taranto> “You did no harm to Wests.... The others mean nothing to me, most have tried to kill ‘Lina. Security is safety of those I call mine. You gave no harm unto them....”


<Zila> "I have no love of them," she remarked softly, following up with a very brief statement as to why. There was a hint of a smile on her lips, "I wouldn't harm the Wests, as much as I'd like to sometimes." She had a particular, stupid West woman in mind with that statement, "To this day, most remain unaware of the truth of the situation. Unless one of the five of us who are aware reveals that, they never will. It's why it's not in my book.”

<Taranto> “To me, that is a non-issue as long as you remain safe.” Smiling at her, he leaned over to kiss her forehead, “That is nothing to be ashamed of.”

<Zila> The tension melted away at the mystic's gentle words and kiss. Smiling, she shifted on the couch so she could lean against him. "I have no intention of being getting hurt," she confirmed quietly. "Thank you for not running."

<Taranto> Pulling her close, he smiled gently, “That was an irrational fear Z...I would not run from you.”

<Zila> Snuggling closer, she sighed happily, "A part of me didn't think so, but there was that irrational doubt." She smiled up at him, "Safe to say, it's gone."

<Taranto> Touching the book, he looked over to her again... “And the rest of this?”

<Zila> Her eyes followed his hand as he reached to touch her mysterious, black book. "The rest of my secrets and the details of both my lives thus far. Used to be completely encoded, but not anymore.”

<Taranto> “You are giving this to me?” He asked softly.

<Zila> "If you want it, it's yours, yes," she replied softly. He was the only person to which she would ever entrust it, knowing he would keep it safe. "It's time to show it to you, regardless of that choice. Some of it might need explaining."

<Taranto> Holding it between his hands for a moment, he closed his eyes, then opening them once again he gently set it on the table. “I would prefer you telling me that which you wish me to know, rather than to delve in to your thoughts and memories unguided....”

<Zila> She waited, watching his movements from her position, wondering what he would decide. There was a soft grin as he returned the book to the table and made his declaration. She had suspected that would be his choice, given he was vaguely aware of what it contained and how protective she had been of it before. "It's mostly chronological in nature, so the time line would be easy to follow. The thoughts, on the other hand, may not be," she admitted. "You're welcome to anything you wish to know. The only thing not decoded is my list of targets and the prices paid. Though that is more for your safety than my desire to hide it from you," she revealed quietly.”

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Taranto> He loosened his collar as he spoke to her, “Start at the beginning if you wish, or wherever you feel comfortable beginning.” The mystic undid the top four buttons of his shirt.

<Zila> She shifted back to her previous corner as he shifted around. An eyebrow raised gently at his movements, though by now, she wasn't too phased by much he did, if she was honest. Chewing her lip, she contemplated whether she should start with her mortal or immortal life. Deciding the absolute beginning was best, she nodded softly, "Mortal life it is. I was what most would consider the middle child. Except, I had a pair of older sisters - twins - instead of just one. And a younger brother. My mother doted on the twins while my father focused on my brother."

<Taranto> “And neither paid attention to you?” He thought back on the years he had spent in orphanages and foster care, “I too know what it is like to be ignored.”

<Zila> "Mostly," she agreed. "I had my books which kept me amused and out of the way for the majority of the time. My siblings, however, went out of their way to torment me. Gifts ended up broken within days, if not hours. They ensured I didn't have friends so I was very much alone." She shrugged lightly, "It's still a mystery as to why they never destroyed my books."

<Taranto> “They were not smart enuff to know what your true loves were, so they could not take them from you.”

<Zila> "Perhaps, or perhaps my paretns forbade them to destroy them. I'll never know." She looked at him with a soft shake of her head from the memory, "After college, I never went home. There was nothing left there for me any longer."

<Taranto> Leaning back he tapped his carotid artery, “Take that which is freely offered, my Zila.” Looking into her eyes, he smiled, “Often as a child I dreamed of having a family, the Wests were a godsend to me I thought...But now I am not so sure that I was not the lucky one.”

<Zila> She snickered softly as she slid over on the couch until she rested comfortably against him. It had been far too long since she had fed properly instead of relying on her own ability to renew her blood. There was a soft purr as she lightly traced the skin above the artery with her fingertips as a slight tease. "Oh?" she questioned softly as she leaned in, sinking her fangs into the artery.”

<Taranto> As her fangs sank into his neck, he inhaled sharply at the feeling of ecstasy that he had not felt in months. Both hands grabbed at the couch cushions,”I.....I.....I...have missed this, Z.” The poor mystic almost stuttered, overcome by the energy zipping through his synapses, “Yes, the more I hear of peoples pasts, the more it seems my own was not so bad.”

<Zila> The sharp inhale didn't escape her notice nor did his stuttering. While she couldn't see his hands clenching the cushions from her vantage point, she wouldn't have been surprised. There was a soft muffled giggle, knowing the effect her feeding had. *I've missed this too,* she replied directly into his head as he used to do with her. *It wasn't terribly bad,* she pointed out.

<Taranto> As his body became accustomed to the feelings assaulting it one hand gently caressed her head before fisting softly in her flowing tresses, “But you were mistreated and unable to escape from it, other than your books, I...while” he inhaled again, “I was able to move onto another family, or slip out a window, or to another ward.”

<Zila> She purred softly at the feel of his hand in her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second as she lost herself to moment. His inhale returned her to the present much to her amusement. Shaking her head slightly, careful not to hurt him, *I couldn't escape, true. But the harm wasn't physically. I just learnt very early on that material objects aren't what counts. Neglected, absolutely as well as bullied. I just had to learn to adapt. At least I had somewhere stable to call home.*

<Taranto> His hand fisted in her hair holding her in place. He shifted slightly speaking back into her mind, 'If you are able to accept it, it is not my place to say it was wrong.’

<Zila> *In the grand scheme of things, it was nothing,* she countered softly, gently. *Death at the hands of Docere, whom were my family, affected me far more than my my mortal siblings ever did. That Wolf forgot about introducing me to the Wests and the family Crownet was far worse in my mind,* she admitted quietly as she pulled back slightly.

<Taranto> Releasing her hair as he felt her fangs retracting, “Those are just 2 of the many reasons that I have all but left...”

<Zila> She nodded gently as she finished her feeding, gently licking up the stray bits of blood. Leaning against his shoulder, she looked up at him with a soft shake of her head, "West is practically dead. The only ones who I talk to are you and Eva. Frankly, I never want to see Wolf again." There was a slight growl to her voice perceptible to those who knew her well.

<Taranto> The shake of her head against him drew a smile to his face as he looked down at her contentedly. “It doesn't seem that that will be a situation any of us will find ourselves in anytime soon, I see him in the catas occasionally, but he hardly talks.”

<Zila> She was oddly comfortable in her current spot which was very different from what her reaction would have been several months ago. "I've seen him too, but he never says a word to me, which really isn't uncommon with him. He's never really said much to me outside the penthouse aside from the occasional gift."

<Taranto> Nodding in agreement, Taranto let his fingers slide through her hair. “There is nothing there to hold me. I have found friends that impart a true family feeling unto me, and it is with them that I most often am.”

<Zila> Her eyes closed with a soft purr. She had missed this greatly ever since the family had stopped gathering in the Penthouse and had drifted apart. It wasn't as though many had come by, but it was always time to spend with him and Cat, though she was particularly found of the moments they had gotten alone. She had been oddly comfortable around him from the start though it only seemed to expand from there. "All I have are you and Eva," she shrugged, "I don't go back anymore, really. I stay here when I'm not out hunting."

<Taranto> “You will have to come to the cafe for another swim night with me.”

<Zila> She opened her eyes as she looked up at him with a smile, "I'd like that a lot."

<Taranto> Stroking her hair gently he closed his eyes and laid his head back against the sofa, “So would I.”

<Zila> The memories of those nights where things she cherished and had found themselves upon the pages of her book, lest she forget, though she didn't think that possible. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she watched him. "Problem?" she asked with a soft, teasing voice.