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Dominique stood in the place that she had finished sparring in. She could pretend to wipe the sweat that should be on her face for fighting as hard as she had but there was no reason to. Around her were a collective bunch of sharp biters and a few that obviously were well aware of the undead presence. There was no way that all that participated and sparred could claim otherwise. You could hear the sounds and see the otherwise unexplainable take place in each match. For the duration of the event both sides were civil and abided by the rules. If only it could always be that way. Sliding her recently acquired sword back into a safe place of containment her focus drifted over to a voice that took hold of her attention.

Andrew McGee. The paladin she affectionately called Uncle Andy was in the house. It appeared he was doing rather well as her eyes caught a glimpse of the current brackets. She wasn’t surprised in the least. If the man set his mind on something he did it. The rough years that he had been witness to were not enough to slow him down and neither was half of Harper Rock. She smiled his way as she zipped up her hoodie. A brief nudge of each sleeve had her permanent ink on display up to her elbows where the cuffs were staying.

Dominique was out of the tournament. She successfully made her way through the first round with Anemoi. It was a match that had her trying out guns versus her preferred blade. It went in her favor despite her less than perfect aim. Following that she went up again Minsc and barely started when Minsc quickly finished it. She told herself that was likely why she hardly worked up a sweat. It was over before it began. Some may have taken slight to losing to a paladin but she didn’t. She had no issue cheering for one as well and in that case her money if she was betting it would be going to the one who beat her and the one who she didn't waste time closing the space between and giving him a gentle hug. She cared less who was watching. No one within the walls had any ground to pass judgement.

“Doin’ well.” Dominique stepped back and gripped his bicep giving it a gentle squeeze. “You been working out.”

Dominique had seen the female bouncing around like a misplaced cheerleader during the tourney but it was the first time she had seen the shirt that now was displaying the message “Team McGee”. That was hardly the reason she felt compelled to track the females movements. The message was clearly upside down. She raised a brow.

Andy was as charming as any male could be. Women flocked to him and he always was the gentleman that had you thinking he was the very last of a dying breed. Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant and Andrew McGee. Sure Andrew had his own style with a touch of blue humor added to spice things up. But you sure as hell remembered him once you met him. The list could go on of her favorite silver screen actors that reminded her of the man her grandfather had been. She figured Andy and he would have got along really well. Both veterans, both determined to do the honorable thing and yes at least Andy was still alive and kicking. She was grateful for that. A sound of a giggle caught her attention. Her head cocked slowly to make sure she was reading the t-shirt right as her thumb lifted and hooked towards the woman’s direction as she disappeared..

“She need help with that?” She offered to fix the t-shirt. The woman bounced back with some papers in her hand. “Hi.”

Dominique stuck ‘HOPE’ out towards the woman to introduce herself. As soon as the cool hand gripped her own her eyes shot to Andy in silent question. It would seem he had a new fan she had not been introduced to.

Granola and water pushed through otherwise empty space towards them as a flask appeared with Andrew McGees's assistance. Dominique held up the offerings and gave a wider than usual grin until the woman bounced around. Andy opened the drink source of his choice and took a pull from it. Soon it was handed to her and she was not one to refuse her own flavorless sample of what he had brought with. The liquor left a bite down the lining of her throat in it’s wake. It worked it’s magic and hit the spot. She winked handing it back to him. One was enough. Andy could drink her under a table in no time at all. She quickly found the stuff was hell on her to the point she swore she was cursed if she had any amount close to what she used to tolerate. She was not enthused with the possibility of giving up a couple nights to discomfort that the vapors clouding the outside of her lips certainly promised. She was good with moderation and settled back.

The air was warmer for the first minutes that passed as she sat close to the man. There was a comfort in it that was always welcome. The kind that leaves it easy to think the world will never change no matter how much she had. Andy was a significant source of that energy, humor and optimism. That much she knew as the words weaved an explanation of what her eyes tracked slowly. The female in question gave him a hug and she didn’t move but felt the subtle roll of her shoulders finally kick the joints back to press against the flat hard surface behind each one.

Dominique's dark eyes floated towards his face as his message seeped into her thoughts then finally ceasing. He did this at Verne's funeral. He never stepped into the cathedral but she heard him say he was there. A slight chill changed that warmth that she attributed to him. It wasn’t Andy that brought on the unexpected coolness to her colder exposed skin. It was more of the truths she had not seen back then. It was also her concern for what she was discovering. She felt the need to swallow and did so while she absorbed what he was saying. The misplaced cheerleader was in fact his. Her eyes drifted over to the vampire he referred to as Skippy and wasn’t quite sure what to say.

So, he met a blood thief, made a deal and he didn’t want her to hate him.

Dominique felt a sinking inside her stomach, perhaps her chest too. It had been a while since she experienced both. She was quiet for a minute while her hands tugged at the cuffs of her hoodie and pulled them back down to fit loosely around her wrists. It was a change. A huge one she didn’t expect. Andy was full of surprises and this one topped them all. He was serious. Of course he was. She could confirm his claim in his eyes as her chocolate orbs shifted back to fix on his. Her lips pressed together and her teeth nibbled gently at the inside.

In the silence between them she heard the words said the night she stood in front of The Order. Words of support and acceptance spoken with the tone of concern came back to her. Now maybe she could start to appreciate what they must have felt. Those that truly cared about her anyways. Perhaps not fully but still did it matter?

Andy was one of the few that always had her back no matter what hell she found herself in. He was honest. Skippy was certainly a far cry from what she was familiar with as far as the vampire population went. Perhaps something was amiss in the turning process. She caught herself before she winced in the thought. Most vampires would not be accepting of being a human’s...she blinked wondering what the term for Skippy was. She really needed to get with the program and get informed.

Dominique looked down at her hands as the permanent ink words 'HOPE' and 'LESS' on the top of her hands did a single rise then falling flat on the tops of her thighs. She gripped her legs and held on as if the earth was about to take a huge spin. If it didn’t the hold she took reminded her she was in her own skin and she was expected to say something...anything.

“We can talk about the how, why and what if later.” Dominique looked to the female in the shirt cheering Andy on then finally back to Andy himself. “I can’t hate you. Never. I can be concerned and confused but there is no room for hate. Not for you.” She felt the lift of the right side of her mouth offer up a partial smile. “Everything changes and so does our capacity to accept. I cannot expect that from you if I cannot be capable of the same. You, Verne, Kenlie, Leona, Mona and the others taught me that.”

Dominique reached out her hand and placed the cool center of her open palm over the top of his hand and curled her fingers over the top. She felt the warmth beneath his skin, the pulse of life still there and that was what mattered at that moment. The rest they could discuss at a time when the rest of the world around them was not waiting for another round of the living and the undead in the gauntlet tourney.

“I take it you haven’t told Mona?” Hope brushed over her nose and itched at the bridge of it lightly. She was not entirely sure she would want to see that exchange. Mona finding out her old man was tapping into the immortal power source. “In fact I would bet money on it. Oh...” Her hand lifted from the top of his finally. “I don’t donate.” She wasn’t sure how it worked but she had no fangs to use and would never allow a set to find themselves under her skin if she had any say in it.