A Silent Night [Alaric] [ARES]

[Elizabeth]

WEARING

The month of December meant many of things. The first was the most obvious-Christmas, or Yule. The second, was that another year was coming to an end. How many had she seen now? Just shy of five hundred and fifteen days and nights. Of course, she had not seen as many days as nights, but since she was born, Elizabeth had seen over five centuries of time pass. About half that in the shadow realms. What would five more centuries bring?

Alex had inquired if Elizabeth would once again, put a tree up this year. In truth, she had not thought about it, given it had been a tradition she started when Shamus and her had their first Christmas together. And with so few people still in town, it seemed more of a waste and unnecessary effort expended. Never mind the fact that she planned to be back 'home' around the holiday season to deal with Eurielle. So, taking the diplomatic route, she shirked off the task to Alexandrea and promised to help the woman with her tree, should she put one up this year. Christmas was not something the woman really celebrated until she had created childre who celebrated the concept.

Elizabeth refocused her attention to the first train of thought-Christmas, and what that entailed. Present shopping, though for the first time in a handful of years, the list had dwindled to something...manageable. As much as the process of shopping for others became a tedious task, Elizabeth came to realize that she would rather shop for twenty or thirty, than the handful she had this year. It was a statement on so many fronts.

They say it is the most wonderful time of the year, but clearly, the person who wrote the lyrics to that song did not have to do much shopping... Elizabeth started the thought with a follow up question, because it was unlikely he knew what she was speaking of. I imagine one has not done much Christmas shopping and with your family being so large...perhaps some help and advice?' Elizabeth reached out to Alaric, simply because if she knew the mindset of men, it meant that he hadn't even thought of shopping yet, or if he had, how, and where to begin. Or, if that sounds painfully dreadful, perhaps your company and thoughts would be agreeable? Elizabeth tried to keep Alaric in 'loop' about things going on in the city as they cropped up, given he was not a man that appreciated the online world, or ventured out much. Not that she could blame him some nights. It had its appeal and allure, still, she owed it to the other elder, or perhaps the few, including him, that were in his family that she had a fondness for.

[Alaric von der Marck]

WEARING

There were papers strewn out in front of Alaric; folders worth of paperwork, which he’d had Judah print out for him. He’d been sitting with Judah, who’d just left. They’d been discussing business -- those that were still running from two hundred years before, companies that had started as small ventures but which had slowly grown into major players in Canadian trade. Alaric’s name still existed on much of the paperwork, though of course any who looked would assume the man to be dead. Some clauses had been put into place, however, and Alaric wished to dip his toes back in.

These were the companies that made the von der Marck such a wealthy clan; it was how so many of them were able to live on trust funds alone. The family was Alaric’s purpose, though they were all mostly self-sufficient. Their self-sufficiency sometimes depended on business, however, and Alaric wanted to know everything there was to know about the von der Marck company and all its subsidiaries.

It should have been headache-inducing, but the elder was fascinated. As dull as the papers might appear, they provided context to the family’s history, and to so much that he had missed. Regardless, he’d been at it for hours and hours, and Elizabeth’s soft voice in his head was a welcome reprieve.

Of course he knew the tradition of giving presents at Christmas time but it had never been a lavish affair. Alaric had already started with the presents he intended to give, and they had more to do with sentiment and thought than with commercialism. He was not going to try to figure out what each of the von der Marcks might like.

I have organised with a jeweller. They are each receiving the crest, on different forms of jewellery, he sent, even as he stood. That did not mean he did not wish to go out. But I will like the company. Are you in need of help? I can carry the bags… he said, plucking the jacket from the back of the chair and pushing his arms into it.

Where are you?

[Elizabeth]

His reply made her smile. At times, the two had much in common, and it was apparent in his reply. For her first Christmas with her family, she had more or less done the same and in return, Lisa, one of her first childre had gifted her something with their family emblem as well. That is a wonderful idea. She thought back in return, in regards to what he was gifting everyone in his family this year.

Bags? Elizabeth frowned at the thought of having Alaric carry her bags, as if he were nothing more than a servant at best to her. She understood the gesture, but she did not slip into his mind to be her 'bag boy,' for lack of a better terminology. She shook her head, only to abruptly stop shaking her head when the woman remembered they were not face to face, though telepathy was as natural to her as it was to those who spoke face to face, before she replied. My family is not that large... She laughed then, discounting the idea of having Alaric along to hold bags upon bags. I had just thought the company would be nice and if you had yet to make your arrangements... She trailed off, before glancing around.

At my bakery, but I can be anywhere in a matter of seconds. She indicated, as Elizabeth moved around the metal table in the center of the kitchen to collect a dish rag to wipe it down, before sterilizing the area with proper cleaning solution. Where shall we meet? Elizabeth inquired, before adding on, Apple, cherry or strawberry? Her eyes wandering out past the open swinging door to the tart case where her eyes landed on a variety of tarts-for his family, clearly.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric was confused, at first, until he put all the pieces together. She was at her bakery, and thus the flavours she referred to must be concerning pies. Pies that he himself could not eat, so why was she asking? But, of course – he had family. A pie left in the estate’s kitchen would not go to waste. The family members came and went and though they may not have regimented meal times, that pie would disappear, piece by piece. It would be appreciated.

”Cherry, danke” he said as he made his way to the door. There were cars in the driveway, the keys for which eh could probably find. But he wouldn’t. He did not know how to drive, nor did he particularly wish to learn. He didn’t go outside, however. Instead, he took the stairs down, down, into the basement and toward the ritual room, where he knew there was a portal. The portal would at least get him into the city.

”Bullwood. It is to where the portal will travel me. The station. Ja? We will decide where to go from there,” he said. He’d clattered down the stairs and was taking the dark tunnels easily, without needing light to find his way. His fingers grazed the roughly hewn stone, worn down over the years. He knew his way merely by touch, by subconsciously knowing how many steps needed to be taken before the next turn.

”The company will be nice, regardless. I will see you soon,” he added, just as he disappeared into the portal.

[Elizabeth]

A cherry tart was set within a light pink box as soon as Alaric specified his family's preference, and packaged up using twine. All sides were secured with quick hands, before Elizabeth moved to take off her apron and hang it in its spot besides the other aprons that other employees wore. She grabbed her wool coat and slipped into it. It was tied at her waist, before the telepath woman grabbed the tart and replied to Alaric about the chosen meeting place. Wonderful. I shall see thee soon at Bullwood then. A confirmation of the fact they were meeting and where they were meeting at was passed on mentally.

With the tart in one hand, resting between her body and upon her arm, Elizabeth moved to the front door of the bakery where she double checked the security system and ensured the door was, in fact, locked. Once she was positive it was, Elizabeth moved away from the door and teleported herself three blocks from the station. Her blue hues glanced down to the packaged tart and smiled, relieved to see it all in tact and as it should be. Her steps took her slowly, but surely to the station, keeping in mind the snow and ice that went along with the winter weather at this time of year.

Once at the station, her eyes moved around to see if the other elder had appeared yet. Not seeing him, Elizabeth moved to claim a bench that had been cleared of any snow fall earlier in the day time hours. the woman set the tart besides her, and ran her fingers over the wool fabric of her coat. Mentally, she thought of those she needed to buy for, and some ideas for those people, while the elder waited for the other.

[Alaric von der Marck]

The portals, at least, were a familiarity. Where their magic caused discomfort in some, for Alaric it was a touch of freedom. The taste of it upon his tongue as he was wrenched from one state of being to another, landing gracefully in the shadows of the columns of Bullwood station. The silence and cold of the von der Marck basement was a direct contrast to the bustling movement of the station, even if peak hour had passed. There was a wind, cold and stung with snow; it brought with it the scent of progress and of pollution so that Alaric did not breathe deep. Could not breathe too deeply. Now that he was within the city proper, the walls all came up, thick and strong, mental and otherwise.

Stepping out from the shadows, one hand within the pocket of his pants and the other crossed over his chest, he searched for Elizabeth. She was not hard to find; a regal vampire amongst the ruggedness of humanity, comfortable in the cold as if it did not touch her while the humans scurried about, the quickness of their steps meant to bring heat to their flushed cheeks.

”Elizabeth,” he said with a short bow as his steps brought him before her. The smile upon his face was warm, and genuine. ”Have you ideas of where you would like to go?” he asked; he doubted that they would sit at the train station for too long, if for any time at all.