14316/Of Fangs and Far-Flung 'Family'

Of Fangs and Far-Flung 'Family'
Date of Scene:	04 March 2023
Location:	Fangtasia
Synopsis:	Old blood from the old(ish) world reunite after nearly a century. Ariah and Amelia briefly speak of their shared past and make plans for the future.
Cast of Characters:	Ariah Olivie, Amelia Au Claire

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Ariah Olivie has posed:
    While being a member of the Hellfire Club absolutely has its benefits, sometimes when Ariah is looking for a little time among 'family', she'll visit the amusingly kitschy bar. Had she any knowledge of Vampire LARPs she might find herself more amused, but at least she knows how to dress the part. This short king is rocking what is very much a 'girl prince' style of outfit, with those tight black leather pants and a white buttondown shirt. She'd left her jacket at the door, even if she's rocking the whole black tie thing. Literally, she's wearing a black tie. And black lipstick. Businessgoth go?

    She is, of course, enjoying something... on tap. In a small goblet. Ice wine and blood.

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
Amelia has been in, well, hiding. Not for any crime, but because research is taxing on the batteries, as it were. Sure, she's been seen in the various clubs of New York, slumming it with mortals because a girl has to eat, but most of her time has been spent researching and experimenting.

That time is done. Her craft has been honed enough to need some real world use. Now it is time to rejoin the night.

Thusly, she arrives at Fangtasia. She checks her long red coat at the door, leaving her in her simple peach colored dress that falls just short of her knees and red low heels with the straps around her ankles. Her auburn hair is tied up in a simple ponytail. As she heads towards the bar, she starts, red eyes narrowing slightly until they land on Ariah. Her head tilts like a cat's, and she begins to approach. She sniffs a little, like she's smelling an old, familiar perfume. She sidles up to the stool nest to the diminutive prince and asks quietly, "Is this seat taken?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah sits, comfy, and alone. She swirls around her goblet as she just.. watches the crowds. She's very small and isn't... perhaps as cute or elegant as some of the other vampires and "vampires" at the venue. But as she looks up, she smells the air, lips pursing slightly.

    Unfortunately, Ariah had met Amelia a lifetime ago and before she had such a... nose and mind for recalling scents. So when she's asked if that seat is taken, she seems, perhaps, understandably bewildered.

    "Non, it is not," she answers, "By all means. Bonsoir, mademoiselle."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
Amelia smiles pleasantly, the mask of the cheerful and polite young woman still in place. The first tip off is that she orders from the Special Menu. The second is, well, what she says next.

"I haven't seen you since ... Hm." She lifts a hand and taps her lips, considering. "My, it has to have been eighty years now. I could never forget that smell. Of your magic." She pouts playfully. "It seems someone got to you before I could. A pity."

Her smile is back in an instant, cheerful and friendly. She is either genuine, or a good enough actor to make even the red, inhuman colored eyes light up as well. "I'm Amelia. Amelia Au Claire. We share a ... set of circumstances."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    There's a flicker of recognition and then those mismatched eyes widen. "...Mademoiselle Au Claire..." she states. "...it was... in passing, non?" she asks, recalling their meeting--as fuzzy as it is. There's a small shrug as she takes a slow drink from her own special mixed concoction.

    "Oui, Madame Riviere took me in after the war..." she says, sounding just a touch wistful. "...I no longer had a home, and hers was offered to me. For what reason? I never did ask..." she muses, then shakes her head. "But here we are, and from your scent I can... certainly discern our... similarities."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
"Yes, yes. In passing, but," she says, her drink arriving. "Your power intrigued me, and I had considered bringing you to the night right then, but, alas. The war. I had to flee, lest my texts get seized or destroyed." She snorts, taking a drink. "Mortals."

She sets her goblet down, the viscous red inside sloshing. "So. This world is quite small, isn't it? What brings you to New York? I fled Europe after the war. It was too volitile. Too dangerous."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah nods slowly, "...my power intrigued many back then... and that intrigued turned to hardships for me... but in the end, it turned into victory--and freedom for my homeland..." She takes a long, slow drink, mismatched eyes still on Amelia. "I am stronger now. I do wonder what would have been different, had you been able to make such an offer to the soldier witch..." she muses softly.

    Then she just shakes her head, no sense on dwelling on might-have-beens. "Oui, very small. Madame Riviere brought us here, eventually, for various reasons. Where she goes, I follow. But we have been here for some time now. What I am doing now is simply studying. Fighting. In this age, the likes of HYDRA remain, as do otherworldly ... issues."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
"A good enough reason, I suppose," Amelia says, sizing Ariah up thoughtfully. "I suppose, under all technicality, you -are- still a fledgeling. Eighty years is still quite young for one of us." She takes another sip from the goblet, considering.

"Ah, yes. HYDRA. Remnants of a renmant of a failed state. Mortals are so strange, don't you think? Grasping for any little shred of power and control they can hold." She smirks, swirling the goblet. "Not too different from us, honestly. We're just better at it."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah nods in agreement, "...oui... very young. In terms of our... kind... very weak. But..." She sets the cup down, empty. "...I am.. also different?" she offers, but doesn't provide any details. "Different blood, different abilities, non?"

    She holds a pair of fingers up to one of the wandering staff, to get a refill. "Politicking and infighting are not my forte, nor my pleasure. I will leave that to those who find it entertaining. The most I am to offer is council at a night court. The only power I seek is knowledge and experiencing life while I have this.. boon. What do you do? How do you enjoy your evenings?"

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
Her head tilts like a cat's. Curious and focused. That friendly mask slips for an instant, and it's strange. Her face doesn't change, her expression and body language don't change. It's the eyes. The shine and life in them just drain out, leaving the eyes of a shark. A cold blooded hunter. As quickly as it drops, it's back. "Yes, of course. I am, and was while you breathed, curious about them."

She sighs, sounding so much like a disaffected college student. "Politics are so fleeting. Yes, of course it's better than open violence and war among our kind, but honestly, are stakes in the dark truly much better? No, it is not for me. I am a sorcerer of blood. I have created, and am working on perfecting, a method of sorcery using the power inherent in blood, but especially vampire blood."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I wuld not mind speaking on them, if you wish," Ariah offers, waiting for her refill. It smells of blood and wine, as it should perhaps, and she closes her eyes for a moment to take a drink. "..both the magical and the.. blood related. They are not dependent on one another, which.. gives me an edge. Usually." She shrugs, putting down the cup and opening her eyes again.

    "I would be curious to learn of your craft as well, though I imagine our schools may be incompatible. Nothing in my... grimoire..." she offers a playful word even if her expression is neutral, "...is blood sorcery."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
"Oh, my dear, we have plenty of time. Eternity in fact. We have met, we have exchanged pleasantries. And now, we have all of the nights to see what develops, hm?" She empties her goblet, placing it on the bar. "And luckily for you, I love to talk of my work."

She takes a furtive glance around before she lays her palm out, taking her other index finger and slitting it with a nail, because Vampires Do This. She wills her blood to seep out, and she concentrates. A small stream of it arcs gently from her hand onto the bar, whirling and crystalizing. The activity settles, and where the blood once was is an open rose bloom made of bloody red glass. Or what looks like glass."

"A taste."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah tends to refrain from doing magic in public, at least, when she can help it. She's incognito at the moment, after all. But, when Amelia shields the rest of the public from her doings, she watches with rapt attention. "I see..." she says quietly, taking in the formation of the bloom and the scent of the blood coming off of it. She taps her finger on the bartop and then nods.

    She, too, lays her palm out. But instead of any cuts, a faint glow starts to shine under her skin. Hints of runes beneath the flesh show a blue-white hue and threads of the same light dance forth from her fingers. They curl around the underside of the rose, vines of magic, and lift the delicate construct before carrying it right into her palm. The tendrils of energy wrap around her hand, taking on the appearance of thorny vines as she cradles that rose of blood.

    "Most curious," she says quietly, and slowly, the energy absorbs back into her skin.

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
"Interesting, isn't it? That is very basic. Simple. I can do other things with it, of course but," she smiles, red eyes glinting. "I can't give away all of my secrets, now can I?"

She watches Ariah's demonstration, rapt. The suggestion of runes is fascinating and what she focuses on. "Exquisite. How very interesting." She looks up at Ariah, eyes burning with curiosity. "Have you always had this power?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "It is beautiful as well," Ariah states, turning the rose over and over in her fingers before placing it back on the bartop before Amelia. Then she meets her mismatched gaze with Amelia's crimson. Again, a small shrug makes her shoulders lift then fall. "Oui and... non?" she offers.

    Settling back in her seat properly, she recounts a few things: "I have always had an ... affinity with energy. Magicks. But. My formal training in harnessing it was... before the war fully broke out. After Dunkirk, further ... things were done to enhance my natural affinity..." she says, choosing her words very, very carefully. "...you met me after that stage."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
Amelia gestures to the blood-glass rose bloom. "Keep it. A gift. A display of my power, freely given in the hopes of ... friendship? If creatures such as we can even have friends. The hope of being allies at least. I would very much like that. The nights are, after all, quite lonely and mortals..." She sighs, glancing about the room at the poseurs and fanpeople.

"Mortals are lacking."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah blinks, then reclaims the rose. She slips it into the breast pocket of her shirt. "...how permanent is it?" she asks, tilting her head. She runs her fingers through her short hair, straightening out some of the messier parts of her seemingly-unkempt hair. Fluffy pixie cut in white, as it is.

    "And we may have friends," she states. "I count a number of mortals and a number of others among my closest companions. And some have even aided me where others of our.. kin.. would leave me for dead. Less competition that way?" she shrugs and raps her fingers on the side of her cup. "...but for me, the daylight is not a threat either."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
"A working like that, if you keep it from the sun...months? I'm not exactly sure. I have crafted weapons and tools that are intended for temporary use, and they crumble at first light of the dawn. Much like I would were I caught in it," she says with a shrug.

"It is interesting how there are different varieties of us, and yet we almost all act the same."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Just like humans?" Ariah asks, regarding the varities and acting alike. Then she moves to stand up, finishing her drink. "At least I know when to look for you. Do you wish to exchange numbers? It would be easier to talk... arts and crafts somewhere less busy, non? And I have had my fill of refreshments for the evening. At least... bottled sorts..." she muses.

    Then she fishes for her phone. It's pretty basic. Maybe she doesn't get along with modern technology yet. But she can at least text and web browse if needed.

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
It's a ridiculous change. One moment, Amelia is fairly formal, if not exactly stiff, and the next she could be any young woman in her early twenties as she pulls out her phone. It's huge and in a glittery pink case with one of those pop-socket things on the back. "Yeah, that's a great idea. We could, like, hang out." She beams, and it's likely just so weird to see after that conversation. "My number is," Blah blah blah. "Just text me, 'k?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah seems to be pretty quick with entering the number in, at least, and she sends an experimental text to that number to make sure she got it right. The text message itself is just the French flag and a pride flag. A test, maybe? Or just something there and colorful. Or both. Both is good.

    "There. Do not hesitate to call me or text me if you need me as well, oui?"

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
The phone buzzes, and Amelia expertly adds to her contacts before slipping the thing away whence it came. Mysterious. "Oh, I will," she says, grinning. "Maybe we could hang out. I mean, we're hanging out right now, but somewhere more ... lively. And easier to have a snack, hm? You seem like you don't get out enough. The mortals are a drag, but, hm, they're also so much fun."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "We shall see," Ariah says quietly. "I know of a place, and I will see about contacting the one who runs it." She adjusts her shirt some and makes sure it's smooth. "Perhaps, in time, you will meet some fun... mortals. Or perhaps I am too young to have lost my taste for them just yet. In a manner of speaking. It has been a pleasure to meet you again."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
Amelia observes Ariah as she makes her preparations to leave. So businesslike. Still a soldier after all these years. Stagnation and stasis. it's their curse. "Perhaps. Perhaps! But, yes. It was a joy to see you again, and I hope to see more of you in the future. Enjoy the night, Miss Ariah. Enjoy it and return home safely."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Perhaps the seating arrangements make it work, with Ariah standing and Amelia sitting. But, the small soldier leans in to lay a brief peck upon the other vampire's cheek. "Until we meet again, Mademoiselle Au Claire," she states, formal and polite--and yet her voice is still so, so very chilled. "Mind the streets. I have had difficulties with hunters as of late."

Amelia Au Claire has posed:
:I'll keep an eye out. Thank you," she replies with a nod. Hunters. There are always hunters. Uppity mortals. Her lips twitch briefly downwards. Well, she will stay here for a while and watch these people play foolish games, aping true predators. It should at least be amusing for a little while.