Owner	Pose
Ariah Olivie	It's never a bad idea to visit one of the many antique shops scattered across New York City. Sometimes estate sales will bring forth the most interesting curiosities, and sometimes rare, random objects will just... simply manifest on their shelves. A small woman who has left her cloak by the door currently wanders one such shop. Perhaps the call of archaic history and art books has her attention, or the chance for finding most curious sorts of old treasures are the draw.     Whatever it may be, Ariah is here, eyes fixated on some of the well-restored jewelry pieces in the case near the front. Rare metals and cut gems appear to be her focus at the moment moreso than potential artifacts and tomes.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen is one who also looks for the sort of things lost and forgotten, but that really should not have been in such a state. Stepping into the shop, Patience is dressed for the weather. A puffy winter coat, a scarf and a knit hat; jeans and hiking boots with warm thick socks rolled down over the tops. Slipping off the hat, she tucks it into her pocket as she looks to the shop's many aisles and shelves. Picking a row, she begins to curiously saunter along, her brown eyes taking in the various items. None of which are truly "interesting" in the sense she would be looking for.
Ariah Olivie	The rush of the winter cold coming in, albeit briefly, gets Ariah's attention more than the sound of the door opening does. She glances up, but she's not in view of the door where she's standing, just the checkout counter. She hasn't made any decisions yet, instead just studying the pieces in the case through the glass. Magically resonant or conductive materials can take many forms, but sometimes a trinket of the right shape and density can work wonders.     But it's likely that Patience will find the diminutive vampire sooner than later, especially if the little French witch is standing in one place--especially under the eagle-eyed watch of the shopkeeper.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen might have sensed something similar to that which she felt when meeting Ariah at Nettie's shop, if she were focused on that. Which, really, she should be. She had come here to see whether any mystical or holy relics have made their way unknowingly out of the shadows and into public. She should have sensed Ariah. But she hasn't yet. Focused too much with one sense to notice input from others. She moves slowly down the aisle, pausing to look with curiosity at a display of uranium glass. The unique green glass a signature from a bygone era.
Ariah Olivie	There's a point when Ariah finally pulls herself away from the case of jewelry items. Not that budget is a concern, but a suitably dense design isn't really catching her attention. She turns, heading down another aisle to find some of the other... oddities. The vampiress does, of course, sense Patience. The same feeling of absolute holiness coming off of the woman is impossible to miss. Still, Ariah isn't sure if that's the same person with the same aura, or if one of the angels of New York City has come shopping.     Wouldn't be the first time.     But as she glances around the corner, she confirms that it is indeed Patience, and starts to move towards her. "...bonsoir, Mademoiselle Patience..." she says quietly, not wishing to disturb the quietude of the shop too much--or startle the other woman.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen looks up, her other senses finally winning over her attentions from the hunt for odd curios and relics. Looking up she meets Ariah's gaze and smiles. "Oh. Hello Ariah. I.. hadn't expected to see anyone I knew." Offering a friendly if wry smile she notes, "I suppose given the sorts of things many of us do, it should stand to reason our paths would cross eventually in similar places." Turning toward the other woman she offers, "You look well." Given the other night's lack of equilibrium as it were.
Ariah Olivie	Slowly, Ariah shakes her head. Her mismatched eyes stay fixated on Patience, though, swiveling slowly to keep still while her skull turns this way and that. "...non, it is a large city, the chances are small... but it is still a non-zero chance nonetheless..." she says quietly.     At the mention of her looking well, her head tilts to one side before she nods, same eye behavior happening. "...it is well we met again. I am... feeling more accustomed to your... energy." She finally changes her focus, looking to the uranium glass, too, and taking on a thoughtful expression. One she banishes after a few scant moment. "You look very nice as well," she states, looking up at the other woman once again. "Any luck seeking?"
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen smiles. "It has happened to me before. Meeting someone I know in a shop such as this. It was.. well. I hesitate to call anything foreordained. But. Sometimes it feels the same. Fortuitous at least." She smiles to the other woman, "Well I am happy to know you are feeling better around me. As much as I wish I could have a hand in easing your discomfort." At the compliment of herself, she smiles. "Thank you. And.. no. Nothing so far. WHich I feel may be a blessing."
Ariah Olivie	Again, Ariah's head shakes, "...non, do not worry yourself over it. It is simply the nature of our beings. We cannot help who and what we are, not now, not ever..." she says softly, then turns to look at the strange glass in the curio cabinet. "A blessing?" she asks.     Then she thinks it over a moment, nodding, "...I believe I understand. It is similar for me, at times... Locating things where they do not belong, oui? If nothing is found, then no problems along with it..." she has her hands folded at her waist, the smaller woman clad this time in long sleeves and a skirt with leggings over cold weather boots. The fluffy-edged cloak hanging by the door is hers.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen smiles. "It's in my nature to worry about others and their wellbeing. It's.. my nature" she admits with a weak shrug. Following that gaze around the shop, she nods, "Mmmyes. Just so. It is better that they are not in places like this. But then. That can also mean that they are in the possession of those who should not have them. It is something of a never ending cycle isn't it?"
Ariah Olivie	"My nature to be what I am," Ariah says quietly, turning her gaze towards the shelves around them. She purses her lips at the mention of the cycle and things being in wrong hands. All she can do is simply nod, frowning now. "..that is the case.. it is why I am pleased to be what I am. Eternal vigilance, non?" she asks, directing her attention to Patience once more.     "But. I am not here looking for errant..." she considers the word to use, "...items." Neutral. "I am simply seeking knowledge, and perhaps materials... though so far both have come up lacking, even if I have yet to see if any new books have arrived."
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen smiles weakly. "Yes. Your nature is easier to remain vigilant for yourself. For.. my time will end as it has for every Magdalena before me and those that come after me. We form a line back two thousand years and we will continue onward. It is our calling. It's.." her smile turns wry, ".. in our Blood." "Knowledge is good. The more we know the better prepared we are, mm? But as you say. It is baren of such oddities today it would seem."
Ariah Olivie	"I have not met any of your predecessors, but I do hope those who come after you will remain as pleasant and kind as you," Ariah states. There's no sorrow in her voice, just a simple matter-of-fact sentiment coupled with what is clearly a compliment to the other woman. She starts down the aisle again, to move past Patience, towards the books.     "Even without oddities there are treasures, non? Art, music, history," she explains quietly. "I do not wish to spend eternity as a soldier alone. I will fight, I always have, I always will. But to live through all of history... it is... a blessing, too."
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen laughs. "I.. can't promise that. Some of those before me were not as pleasant. Yet each were devoted to our Duty. Each of them died in the effort of fulfilling it. We." She smiles sadly. "Well. Retirement isn't a thing for us. Historically we do not live long enough to see anything that could be considered retirement. Falling in to walk along just behind Ariah, she looks around, "There are many things of beauty to be appreciated here, agreed." She then smiles "I can only imagine the things you have seen and experienced. I suppose.. I may be a little envious. Not a very becoming virtue, is it?" she notes with a soft laugh.
Ariah Olivie	"The hope remains, for the future, then. For further successors, or a future where people like us will not be needed, oui?" Ariah offers, solemn but certain. Her fingertips reach up towards a shelf as she nears it, just running her fingertips on the old leather bound spines of books. Paper. Cloth. Hide. A number of antiques. Tomes decades and some even older than a century. Art and literature.     At the talk of virtues, she pauses, glancing back at Patience. "...envy is a cardinal sin because it is feeling inadequate with what you have versus what someone else has, non? Knowledge and experiences are special. For the wonderful things and places I have seen, there have been equal number of terrible tragedies as well. It is... not worth being envious over..." she shakes her head slowly.     "Besides... I am a creature of sin. I am wrath and lust. Innocence for me is long, long gone but I do not pine for it..." she says quietly, finding a book that catches her eye and draws it off of the shelf slowly. Poetry?
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen smiles as the proper description of Envy. "It is indeed a sin. And I, with the very Blood that runs through my veins, am no more immune to the lure of giving in than the next person." She looks around, "Sin is only a mark of evil or shame if a person refuses to repent. To change their ways in order to be better. And of course, Better? Isn't a destination. It's a journey. Just like life in general. We are the sum of all of our experiences, emotions, thoughts and cares. Hopefully each of us learns enough to seek to make ourselves better. Than we were. Than we are now." "Innocence is lost for so many. Sometimes before their time."
Ariah Olivie	"Does it make me evil, then?" Ariah asks softly, absently, as she slowly opens the book. French poetry. The cover creaks softly, the worn cover and pages having been restored enough but a lot of the old roots remain. She lets her fingers dance over the words, as if they're familiar. As if they call out to her.     "That I wear wrath as a cloak that warms me, and embrace the lust that is my nature?" she glances up at Patience, silver eye shining bright, purple eye glowing faintly. "We are on a journey, oui, but unless I am mistaken, you are no more able to deny the call of your blood than I am..." She turns her eyes back to the book as she turns a page. "Yet I do temper it, I am not prone to fits of wanton sex or slaughter. I am better, oui."     Another page, then a slow closing of the book. She tucks it under her arm, intent to buy it, eyes wandering the shelf again. "...had you 'discussing philosophy with a vampire' on your ... what is it they call it.. bingo card in this life?" she asks, a hint of amusement creeping into her tone. She might even have a faint smile.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen watches as Ariah takes the book of poetry and examines it. "Part of the.. gift.. of my lineage is to look into the hearts of others. To understand a measure of intent. Whether it is good or bad." She looks at Ariah, meeting her gaze without hesitation. "What you speak is clearly true. All of it rings of truth. And none of it makes you evil. The sins of the flesh are not of themselves evil. Though they may not always be entirely.. pure." The last spoke with irony. Oh the things she has seen in her role. Has heard of from others. Depravity is everywhere after all. "It is not evil to wield wrath." She smiles. "Even Jesus of Nazareth chased out the tax collectors from the temple because they were cheating and profiting upon the face of that which was holy." She pauses. "Imagine if He were here to see what televangelists do in His name.." oh that would be something to see now wouldn't it? It'd be all over the 5, 6 and 11 o'clock news on every channel and 24/7 on cable news. A warm laugh escapes her throat at the bingo card question. "I have done much the same with angels and.. with demons. The later to a lesser degree of course. But this? Here today? No, I really can't tell you that it was something I'd planned or imagined for my outing." Smiling again, she adds, "But I can't deny that I am enjoying it." Imagine those in the shop if they've over heard any or all of this. Maybe that's why there are no other shoppers near the two women just now.
Ariah Olivie	"My wrath is delivered to the wicked, my lusts to those who consent..." Ariah states, still somewhat absently now. Her fingertips continue to dance across the spines of books, reading the titles on them--if some of them even have ones printed. But she's listening. She's absolutely listening. There's slow nodding, and then she cannot even help but laugh the tiniest bit at the mention of televangelists. "Many, many terrible things have been done in the name of God and gods..." she sighs quietly.     Then she turns, pressing her back against the shelf, hugging the one book to her chest as she looks up to Patience. So small. At one point, surely so innocent. But those eyes. That magick. The cold she exudes. What she must have seen and experienced. "I am enjoying it, too. I do not normally speak so much... it is... often wasted breath and I prefer the quiet... but you, ma chere, are pleasant. It is part of getting accustomed to your aura. To grow used to a bitter wine, one must sample it frequently to understand what makes it so, non?"     Thankfully, due to the cold outside and perhaps the odd hour, there may be very few other browsers, if any at all. Though one could easily imagine that the owner, and the cashier, are listening intently--and likely have heard far, far stranger conversations in their time running such an interesting establishment.
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen nods, tilting and dipping her head in agreement about the things done in the name of religion and gods. "It's true" she acknowledges with disappointment. She smiles. "Pleasant? Well thank you for the kind words... though being equated with bitter wine is.. well. -Different- " she nods in admission. Looking to the collection of random things in the shop, she walks over to a cruicifix just tossed behind a display of coffee mugs. She reaches back to pick it up, turning the wood and brass item over in her hands thoughtfully. "For many religion is their saviour. Not because of the Christ. But because they feel being a part of something bigger than themselves gives them an identity.. and that makes them "safe." They pray to the surrogate. Forgetting it's just a facsimile. A figurative resemblance of the Intangible Truth. And it becomes nothing more than an idol." Setting the crucifix down gently, she shrugs. "Others? They believe. Or they want to think that they do. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, as the Scriptures say. The evidence of things not seen." She looks to Ariah and smiles sadly. "Faith. It hard to accept. And easy to lose. Particularly when one is taught there is only One Way. Yet the evidence? Suggests otherwise so much of the time."
Ariah Olivie	"My parents owned a winery, it was a saying of theirs..." Ariah explains, closing her eyes. "...the sweet wine is pleasant to the tongue but you cannot fully grasp it or how complex it is. The bitter wine, the flavors stand out. You will grow to appreciate things more if you can ruminate on all of the elements of something that is, upon first taste. I did not mean for it to be an insult. Your aura is as bitter wine, but it is not your doing..."     She shakes her head slowly, then opens her eyes. "...but by being near you and sampling more of you, I am coming to appreciate all of your facets. Does this make sense?" the small woman inquires. The talk of religion and the comparison thereof, of tenets of faith, false idols, and hope leaves he quiet for now, though. She listens with rapt attention, watching the crucifix being handled. Then she lowers her head, closing those eyes again, and exhaling a long sigh.     "...after what I have lived through, faith in a benevolent higher power is absent from my heart. This world is full of gods and monsters. And men who aspire to become both. If there is a kingdom of heaven awaiting when I meet my final death, I surely have no place within it, according to my limited knowledge," Ariah states. "But I will stand straight to face the judgement awaiting me when and however it comes. But I put no faith in beyond what my own hands, or those of whom I stand side-by-side can achieve."
Patience Alperen	Patience Alperen nods quietly, listening about the winery and the explanation. "I didn't consider it an insult, Ariah. But that doens't mean it isn't hard to accept. It's human to want to be accepted. Liked. But it's also human to be disliked. It's part of the fabric of human nature. So no. You didn't insult me and I didn't take it as one. She nods. "It does make sense. Thank you." With a smile, she listens to the rest. "I believe you are being too hard on yourself." Not think. Believe. "A wise man once said to me, when I was just a child: There will be a lot of suprised people. When they get to Heaven and realize who is also there." She walks over and gently rests a hand on Ariah's shoulder a moment. Then she tilts her head, smiling, arms opening up to offer a hug.
Ariah Olivie	Ariah blinks owlishly, "...I fear I come off as brusque and cold to most... it has become second-nature to either over-explain, or simply say nothing. To those whom I like, I endeavor to clarify..." the small woman says quietly. "I do not care if I am liked nor disliked, generally, present company excepted, but I do dislike being misunderstood. So. Merci," she bows her head politely.     When she looks up, it's near the end of Patience's talk of heaven. The hand coming down on her shoulder is watched, carefully, but she doesn't shy away. She stares a moment, not just perceiving it, but analyzing it. The blood would be beyond toxic to her, but that's not the purpose of the touch. She can feel the warmth. The assurance chasing the words with a touch. The vampiress herself is also warm. She has a pulse. The blush of life. False facsimile it may be.     Then she looks up again, making a choice. She places her chosen book aside, to free both hands, and closes the last step or two of distance necessary to accept that offer of an embrace. Her eyes close and both arms go around Patience as she sinks into her warmth and exhales a long breath ever so slowly, capping it off with a barely-whispered "Merci."