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Ambrose arrived at Lancaster's early in the evening. He wanted the chance to get to know the surroundings, make sure it was a safe place for him and Adelita to meet up at for their date. Seeing both mortal and immortals mingling in one place brought back memories of the time before the Holocaust as it was called now. The European vampires and humans had been intrinsically connected like this, Ambrose, then known as Tizoc had been instructed to stay away from humans when they were in groups. It was too easy to be discovered back in those days when everyone was superstitious and witch hunts were common.

For an Allurist it was difficult for him to follow the command nut his sire had explained to him that his breed of vampire drew human attention all too easily. Some type of allure that found their senses and drew them in. He noticed this mostly with the more seductive of his Path. Many of them used it to gather prey to them. Ambrose had been told to stick with drinking from those offered to his gods.

Now though it was 2015. The gods were not followed any longer and human sacrifice was something that existed only in history books and horror stories.

Now the Aztec priest had to learn to cope in a strange world where people were more common and pervasive. There were few places their influence could not be seen in the world any longer.

Moving to the bar, Tizoc orders a glass of water and asks for a menu, settling in to wait for Adelita. He hopes she likes the necklace he sent her.

Wear the necklace left for you at the apartment.

The thought kept bouncing in Adelita's mind as fingers flitted through the wardrobe. How could she not? The Mexican woman had wanted to ask if that was all she should wear for the night, but her natural promiscuity would have more than likely been discarded or not replied to. So, as to not set herself up for disappointment, Adelita replied to the email in a 'safe' way. In a boring way.

For a woman who loved color, Adelita lacked it tonight. Lita wore black from head to toe, minus the one oversized scarf that was a mixed combination of purple and grey. She wore booted heels that came to her ankles and hid the rest of the material of her pants that were a little long, because Lita was so short. The pants were black, but a high wasted faux leather material, with an over-sized black, long sleeved sweater that covered Adelita's assets. They more than likely wouldn't be missed, because Ambrose wasn't that sort of vampire-often. His focus was primarily on all things ritual.

With a heavy sigh, Adelita grabbed a large, over-sized, dark brown, suede purse from the kitchen table of the apartment and used the tome that Ambrose had made her to get to the apartment. The necklace wasn't overly hard to find-it was in the bedroom, in a box, left in plain sight for her to see. He wasn't there, which told Adelita he was probably on his way to Lancaster's the bar he picked for their first official 'date' night.

Adelita opened the box and smiled down at his selection for her, a beautiful necklace adorned with diamonds, but she didn't put it on. Not yet. Adelita closed the box, stuffed it in her purse and left the apartment. There were a lot of thoughts in her head. How did Ambrose know about Lancaster's? How did he come to pick it? Why did he pick that over any other place? Would he have remembered their date arrangements had she not reminded him? The more she thought about things, the more Lita didn't like the answers that came to her mind first. Especially the last question on her mind.

She took the train from the honeymead area, over to the Newborough area and decided to walk the rest of the way. As she walked, Lita put the necklace on, but not where he would expect it to be. It was 'on' in a sense. Ambrose had never specified where she should wear it, so Lita used her own creative mind to make the decision. With her outfit adjusted, Adelita pushed the door open to the pub and allowed her eyes to land smack dab on Ambrose. A smile crept on her face as she thought about how out of place he looked. Or was he uncomfortable? She walked over, smile still on her face and took a seat next to him. "Hola, Ambrose." She wouldn't use his real name in a place that was so crowded, in a place like this. "Did you order yet?" Adelita asks as she sets her purse on the seat next to her, followed by the scarf she takes off from around her neck.

Seeing Adelita walk in and toward the table, Ambrose rises as he had been taught to by his namesake, an old friend from days long long passed. He pulls her seat out as she sits and then reclaims his own. "Hello Adelita my love. I have only ordered water and asked for a menu thus far." He motions to the menu and then slides it over so they can look at it together.

"I thought maybe I would try the bangers and mash, but the sheppard's pie looks just as good." Though he had no need for food, Ambrose enjoyed the sensation of eating still. As an allurist the tactile senses, taste and touch were almost as important to him as smell, sight and hearing. None of which compared to his extrasensory powers of course, but taste was high up on his list.

"So tell me about your new business and what you have been doing with your nights," he says as he flags down a waiter for a drink menu for them both. He looks slightly disappointed at her bare neck but for the moment says nothing about it. Perhaps the gift was unappreciated or she dislikes the stones. He had made certain to ensure they were conflict free after his thrall Moema explained what immoral acts the diamond trade had been engaged in for all those many years. Apparently it was a bad thing to use those weaker than yourself in the mortal world. In the vampire world Ambrose had known the weak served the strong until they became strong themselves, exchanging their service for the knowledge, protection and patronage of their elders.

Ambrose honestly couldn't care less what atrocities humans brought to bear on one another, but he is all too aware of Adelita's age and her connection to the mortal world. She had not yet lived long enough to see everything to was born into crumble and turn to dust as the decades marched by like so many blinks of an eye. Perhaps he would point of that the diamonds on the necklace were conflict free and see if that improved Adelita's view of the trinket. It had cost some small measure of the paper humans valued so much nowadays.

Her almond colored eyes look at the menu when Ambrose mentions it, the appetizers and plates unfamiliar and lost on the woman, as well as his words. She isn't hungry and even though Adelita enjoys eating food-or at least certain types of food, the woman isn't feeling adventurous lately.

Adelita hadn't missed the way he addressed her, by name and adding a term of endearment to her name. For someone who was aware of the world around her, body language and the way it silently spoke, and sometimes the feelings of others, she couldn't ever feel anything behind Ambrose's words. There was no passion, or enthusiasm, the Mexican woman believed.

Fingers trolled through the menu, looking for a drink, more than anything as he addressed the topic of her business. Wine was her preferred choice of drink, but shots were a close second, depending on what was in the shot. Adelita's natural reticence seemed to disappear as she scouted the menu under the selection of red wines, ignoring the questions asked of her.

When the waiter arrived, Adelita made up her mind that wine wasn't going to do her any justice tonight. "I'll have a double shot martini." Adelita turned the drink menu over and slid it over to Ambrose so that he could order a drink before she answered him. "My nights have been spent with the people I work with. Who work for me." The rest would be said after the waiter left, but as Ambrose placed his order, Adelita's attention drifted from him; his words, movements and proximity to what was going on around them in the pub. There was a band playing softly on stage; music Adelita wasn't familiar with, but didn't dislike. She had heard far worse music before.

Finally, after the waiter left, Lita's attention, and dark colored eyes once again returned to the male sitting besides her. "Why do you care, Ambrose? I work with two Mexican woman, who are not my type." Adelita was a lover; male or female, but she had a particular taste when it came to either gender and they weren't anywhere near that preference. "You didn't care until I stopped coming home, so let's move on to something you actually care about." A firm smile appeared on her lips as Adelita's shoulders rose and fell in the form of a shrug. This was their life, and she was starting to realize it now. The only place they had ever connected was between the sheets, and it didn't seem like that was going to change any time soon.

The years have not been kind. That was such a simple statement people made to reference all the effects of stress in their short and usually pointless lives. Life had a way of beating people down and when they but persevered through it they were considered strong. Never give up, never give in. What did they know of never? What did they know of time? What did they know of suffering and harsh years? He had suffered three of there lifetimes feeling the Fade tearing at his soul trying to devour it, pieces of his mind, his sanity slipping away to be lost in the fog of eternity. Now Adelita, his wife, his chosen mate, a woman he had thought was the embodiment of his long dead first love was telling him he simply didn't care.

He has purposefully blinded himself to her in effect, refusing to delve into her thoughts, he has adamantly refused to use the senses he once considered as vital as sight, all in the name of trust. Respect. His brood had spoken of these words and he had tried to tske them to heart. He had tried to keep his mind unattached from theirs and in the process a sense of detachment had started to arise within the vampire which was much the same as a human may have when they have not seen an acquaintance in a long time. Perhaps his age and his own experiences exacerbate the situation.

It must stop. He is getting sick of it.

"I'm happy to hear you are being productive. I would think that most people would be upset if their mate stopped coming home. That reaction I had thought you would understand as it is typical of humans."

He motions to her neck, devoid of the adornment he had picked out for her. "The necklace not being to your liking also affects me. I had hoped you would enjoy it. If that is not the case feel free to rid yourself of it and pick out something more your taste."

He pauses as their drinks arrive, nodding to the waiter and after they depart he turns back to Adelita. "I have been doing as I always have. I have been fulfilling my obligations to the gods and trying to figure a way to fix what has been torn asunder. Which amounts to my entire life Adelita. I am in a strange place with strange people who have strange beliefs and I don't understand any of it. I have only Moema to help guide me and I feel completely lost. I am floundering through the nights and I am getting sick and tired of doing so. There is a storm coming and I do not plan on drowning in it as I did last time. Are you going to be at my side through it?"

He picks up his water and drains the glsss in one long drink, setting it to the side and motioning the waiter that he would like a refill.

Dark brown eyes, nearly black turn to Adelita and focus her in a raptor-like gaze. "It will take more than a date night once a week. I need you to let me in. Fully."

The drinks came and Adelita played with the twist of lemon in her drink as Ambrose talked, letting him say what he wanted to say to her retorts minutes ago. With every word he spoke, the Mexican woman could feel the zing of anger rising in her and the dirty little temper she could possess and wear not so nicely, rear its ugly little head. There was a chuckle from the woman; one that complimented the shake of her head. The twist was discarded on a napkin that had the name of the pub they were in, as the woman inched a little closer to Ambrose so that her words would fall on his ears and his alone.

"You, better than anyone, knows that things are not as they always seem, si?" Adelita's voice was not only low, but cold and harsh. "You said to wear the necklace, and I am. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there." Adelita was a lot of things, unpredictable was one of them, and the fact he assumed she hadn't listened to him or that she was a boring, plain Jane with no creative imagination, spoke about how little he knew about her. But the same could be said about how much she knew about Ambrose-Or Tizoc, rather. What she knew was his past, but not much about his current events.

"Are you upset because my attention is wavered between you and my business, or because you think I'm screwing someone behind your back?" A hand went to the delicate martini glass before she lifted it off the table and took a sip of it. A long sip of it. "The place is strange because you make and keep it strange. If you only have, Moema, whose fault is that?" The glass was lowered so that she could speak those thoughts, but not placed on the table so she could keep drinking. With another sip of the drink, more thoughts come from her mouth."Let's not pretend we are a typical couple with typical feelings, Ambrose." The drink is now put on the table and she inches away just a little bit so that her eyes can look at him, at his face and not at his shoulder or his chest. "Most people ask others to whatever with them before playing tricks on them and just expecting the other person to accept it after the fact. Like it is no big deal." Did it upset her that she was tricked? A little, but it had been as clever as it had been 'shady.' And for that, Adelita couldn't stay too mad at the man that is at her side now.

"While you have been busy with Moema, secluding yourself with your 'pet,'" There is a tone in the Mexican woman's voice that can't yet be placed, "You have done nada with helping me, like you promised. You have taught me nothing more than what Remington has taught me. Your world is asunder because you make it this way. You make things and then you toss them away like a little boy who is bored of his birthday toys." The tone was heavy and filled with anger, but nothing more was said for the moment as the waiter came to refill Ambrose's glass and she ordered another double martini. "The choice of being at your side was always in your court, Ambrose. But I cannot and will not be the side of a little boy. I've been with enough of those to last me three lifetimes."

The questions she asked made him think, gave him pause. He was upset at her disappearance and at her not returning. It vexed him and yet he was capable of locating her if he wished to and yet he hadn't. He had stated he would not manipulate her. Is that why he stayed away? Is that the only kind of interaction he was capable of anymore? To either manipulate or enforce his will over others?

The thought is not altogether and appealling one but Tizoc is a practical monster when it comes to things like this. "You are mine. You are not for another. You stated there was no one else so why bring it up once more?" He waves that part of the topic over with a dismissive gesture of the back of his hand swatting empty air. "No, I am not upset that you have found something to fill your nights with Adelita. I have seen elders that think of nothing but the hunt, the blood and it consumes them slowly over the years. It gnaws at that part of us that still resides within left over from the days of sunrises greeting our awakening and sunsets ending a day of labor."

He pauses once more as his water is refilled. "I was hoping you would enjoy the necklace. I took a while deciding what to get for you. It was not an easy selection."

As the waiter leaves he resumes his prior topic, looking at his topped off drink in front of him for a moment before speaking. "Transparency is something that every relationship needs. Rather than questioning each other on everything why don't we simply share what exactly we have been doing?"

He reaches across the table then, his right palm open and turned upward awaiting her hand. His eyes move to hers and into her head his voice flows telepathically "Show me what has kept you so enraptured that you decided once again to stay away from our bed, the only place you say we connect. Show me that you are interested currently and that this proverbial ball is indeed in my court."

He had said he would not enter her mind without permission and this was him telling her that he wanted in.

The Mexican woman listened to what he had to say, both vocally and telepathically, and looked down at her fingernails. She was getting rather bored of this conversation; spoken and silent. Why did she have to show him what she had been doing, when Adelita had told him what she had been doing these past few nights? Was Tizoc distrusting of her, or was he insecure deep down?

"Speaking from experience?" The woman quipped up, remembering all too well his desire for blood the night she had been killed by the man besides her. Adelita opened both her hands in the air as her shoulders shrugged, concurring to his request. "Whatever floats your boat, Ambrose, but let me make one thing clear. I am only yours because I choose to be yours. That is how a relationship works. People choose to continue it." Her left hand was set in his palm after Adelita reclaimed her independence once again, fingers barely touching his open hand as her dark eyes locked onto his face; more specifically, his eyes.

"Go right ahead. See all the things you have been missing while you play with Moema at your altar." Adelita wasn't necessarily making fun of his beliefs, or the things Ambrose did-she did, however, believe it consumed him far more than it should and was the biggest underlying issues of all their problems. When Adelita's mother was still around, their family had practiced many things and did or did not do things depending on the time of the year; examples of this was Los Dias De Muertos, Los Posadas, Misa De Gallo during Noche Buena, and Semana Santa, just to name a few.

For the last two weeks or so, Ambrose would hear various conversations in rapid Spanish between Adelita and one of her employees and then not long after that, another employee, all discussing various things. Pay, three menu attempts for her business Origenes, where the best market places were to get the most bang for her money. A conversation in English between a food and safety inspector and the things Adelita would need to focus on fine tuning before Origenes had opened, more conversations (playful and light hearted) in Spanish about who cooked the best food for the night and which would be used for selling to customers. Times the women sat around drinking and talking about snippets of their personal life; mostly the men in it, how old Victoria's children were; how long it had been since any of them had been in Mexico and when they planned on going back; Adelita commenting on returning in a few months time to help her mother get out of Mexico. All and all, nothing too important outside of starting her business and seeing it through.

After a few minutes of not knowing if he had what he was looking for; what Ambrose was interested in, Adelita removed her hand and set it in her lap. The other picked up her second Martini and took a sip of it, unaware of what he had heard in the last couple of weeks. She just simply sat in silence, waiting for Tizoc to raise some questions, or make a statement about any aspect of things he did, or did not like.

The mundane conversations flow over his ears as the scenes are narrated within his mind. He eventually looks to her and tilts his head to the side. She had been thorough in what she showed him but had been careful to relegate the time frame to exactly that two week stint. Tizoc was very familiar with the potency of his own blood, the limits of his powers and though he could have likely pressed to see back further he does not. His eyes remain locked to hers as his mind processes her memories. These humans. She finds them important. She enjoys their company. She will likely grow attached to them only to find in a few years questions will arise she can not answer without giving away the truth of what she is. Mortals and immortals are not meant to mix, it can lead only to terror and mistrust from the humans and heartbreak and regret for the vampire. He could tell her this but she would likely disregard his warning. Perhaps she will try and tell them one night a few years from now and then she will see. He will be there to fix it for her. To do what she will not want to, may not be able to. Adelita has the potential and ability to kill, but Tizoc can not see her murdering a friend.

"I see. You will see later."

He stashed the memories away in the vault of his mind and lifts his water glass. Taking a sip he sets it down and looks back up to her. Leaning back into his chair he says, "Moema has not been at the altar. She remains a goodly distance from it. I believe she finds it disturbing. I suppose having seen how people now think, I can see why. It is not... conventional, what we do."

Choose. That seems to be a word the people of this age value so strongly Ambrose can't help but laugh. "Choice. This modern age puts so much stock in being able to choose everything. What have you chosen of the major things that have shaped you my love? Even those things you choose to do have unforeseen repercussions." The way he says the last carries a venomous undertone not apparent on his face. His smile remains as though still amused by the word "choose". "We all play our parts in the history of the world dearest. I doubt though that you have chosen the path you tread though."

He motions around with his eyes to the restaurant around them. "You haven't asked me why I chose this place."

"We?" The woman asked after putting the martini glass on the table, eyes scanning the various patrons at the bar, and the staff too. It was easy to identify who was who. The staff had apron's that screamed the name of the establishment and all appeared professional and clean cut. There were people who dressed casual, casual smart, a little sleazy, and a few people that seemed to have gotten off work and came right here with their business attire.

"For the killer pie that was named after someone's profession eons ago?" Adelita's attention returned to Ambrose as he caught her vague interest on why here was where they were having their 'date.' She had thought it random and nothing like he would have picked when he told her where to meet him, but as they talked here; Lita had presumed Moema had mentioned the place in passing since she was chained to her husband.

"The path I walk on?" Adelita asks, her tone inquisitive as her fingers come to lay on the table in front of her, only to grab a paper napkin and twist it between both hands. "I guess you're right. But you would know all about that, right?" She shrugged her shoulders, leaned back in the tall chair she sat on and tossed the napkin on the table. "No, I did not choose to bind to you, making me your 'wife." Both pointer fingers on each hand went up in the air and did a little spin before the hands dropped to her lap. "Is there a reason that you're reminding me of what an asshole you can be?" Her red painted lips came to a small pucker before her chin came to rest in a hand she brought up; the elbow resting comfortably in her lap as her dark irises locked on Ambrose's face.