It's just another night in the city of Bayfield. Another dark and lonely night for a child that wanders through the shadows, feeding every so often as she goes. She's been up and about now for about two hours or so. That would make it roughly around ten o'clock. Perhaps ten thirty at the latest. There really isn't anything unusual about the child being out and about. Well, perhaps to the mortals there is. But not for a vampire. For she is just that. A vampire. A child vampire. Forever stuck in the unusually small body. Not so unusual for a child of her time. Unusual perhaps for the current time. But not back then.

Tonight the child is wearing a pretty little dark blue velvet dress with light blue lace ruffles flowing around the neck, the bottom of the dress and the little short sleeves. Dark and light blue satin ribbons mingle with long golden curls. A slight hint of color to the little face of the little child. Eight years old is what she appears to be. Perhaps a little younger even because of her small size. Two hundred and five is what she really is. Destined to stay tiny for eternity. Her mind still quite young in many aspects. Such innocence the vicious killing child holds. She really is as innocent as she appears to be. Not yet learned of the ways of the world. All she ever knew is gone. Six years gone. And still, she clings to the innocent childish beliefs.

Tonight finds the child in a place other than the park, for a change. Drawn to places that seem to have night time wanderers. Night after night. Searching. Seeking. Studying the faces of those who dare to wander through the city in the night. Hoping. Hoping to see that single face that she's been searching for. Searching for the past six years. Clinging to the hope that she'll find him again.

The child is standing on some rocks on a cliff overlooking the beach below. No. She is not up here with the intent to jump. She is simply staring out over the dark waters. Thinking. Thinking about how life was before becoming separated from her Dark Father. Wondering. Wondering where he was still after six long years. Hoping. Hoping to find him again soon. Yearning. Yearning to not spend all of her time all alone day after day, night after night. Her senses are alert to everything going on around her. Not missing a smell, a sight, nor a single sound.

Loki enjoys the ocean. Forgive me, that's a terrible understatment. The man, or undead, has lived for 6, 003 years and still finds himself needing it's company. It draws him to it as if it were a magnet that he can not withstand. He'd started, at one time, and for what he can only vaguely recall if her really tries to, as a fisherboy, a dock help. An extra pair of hands. Then a fisherman. And as time had moved on, as a voyager, a sailor, a viking, a pirate, and even a Navy man at one time. 6,003 years, and still it frightens him and enthralls him totally and compeltly.

For this very reason, this magnetic feeling, Loki finds himself on the beach nearly every evening, a time of peace for him after waking back into life when the sun set, and before feeding and making the sun to set on someone's soul.

His dress is modern, a pair of snug but still loosely comfortable blue jeans of a light hue, a black, soft cotton polo tee shirt, manufactured leather boots, and a black, v-necked, light sweater. His hair reaches nearly past his waist in a long blonde braid, a fishbone braid that is intricate and tied from bottom to half way up his skull. His eyes, settled on the rolling blue of the ocean, are a pale, soft blue, like shallow water in the sunny day time, a moment he's not experianced for almost six thousand years.

Any younger creature of his kind would have the ability to feel another of it's kind in a near vicinity, but time and time again, Loki's prooven that six thousand years enhances ones abilities far beyond that. And he could sense the young vampire before he'd even reached the beack. Now, he stops walking, leaving deep footprints in the sand, and turns slightly, one hand in his pocket, to gaze up at the child on the cliff's edge with simpathy and concern.

Still looking for that maker, he's sure.

As she stands there on the rocky cliff, she can sense another of her kind. Another vampire was not all that far away and it felt as if they were coming closer. Not closer in the sense of reaching out and touching the other. Closer as in before long they would be within the distance of her vision. However, her eyes remained glued to the rolling dark waters. Remembering life across the vast ocean. Life even before having traveled to England with her Dark Father.

She can feel eyes upon her now. The feeling is familiar. Of course it is. She's been watched before by the one watching her now. However, that isn't the first thought that comes to her mind as she feels eyes upon her. "Father..." she whispers into the gentle ocean breeze. Surely the one watching her will be able to hear that single word. She's not yet turned her head in the direction that the feeling of being watched is coming from. She's closed her eyes instead and is trying to smell the air. The smell of the salty water is quite strong in the air and she's having a difficult time trying to scent anything else over it at the moment.

Loki heared the word carried to his delicatly on the wind and let out a soft, human guesture, of a sigh. Yes, that was who she was looking for, and he was sorry for that, because his ancient mind has grown easy to accept facts. And her young mind could not.

Granted he had waited for his sire for nearly a hundred years, but that had been very different. He and his sire can and went from eachothers lives for ten years at a time so there was no telling if he was just missing him. Her sire had been there every evening. But suddenly disappeared. He was not coming back.

"Not the father that you are looking for," he replied gently in that soft voice of germanic and norweigein accent. Not the one your looking for, but if you truely need a father so terribly, Loki would fill that position, for a hundred years, and then retreat from the human world as he always does to live alone.

Her gaze finally broke from staring over the dark waters as the sound of, what Jex had explained to her, a sigh. Baby blue eyes began moving through the darkness as she sought out the one who had made the sound. Her gaze finally sound him as he spoke. The look on her face was that of a crest fallen child. Disappointment shone in her eyes. She gazed down at the ancient one from upon the rocky cliff overlooking the vast dark waters. "Loki..." she whispered so quietly that a mortal wouldn't hear her. Yes. She recognized him. Never did she forget a face that came into her life. Never did she forget a name that she'd been told.

And then she was moving. Away from the edge of the cliff. Vanished from sight for several moments. Only to appear again moving towards the ancient one. It didn't take her long to be standing in front of him now. Her small head tilted backwards slightly to look up at him. "What brings you out here?" she asked softly. She didn't even try to hide the sadness that had been slowly creeping into the child.

When she disappeared behind the cliff's edge, from his veiw, he turned his back to the massive peice of land that hovered over him and returned his attention to the waters, the rolling ocean and it's deafening crash of the waves on the shore. Already, his pale, unfed flesh is covered with a thin layer of salt from the oceans genrous spray.

When she appeared at his side, he didn't look down at her but rather put his hand that was not in his pocket on her shoulder, his fingers stretching across from her shoulder and nearly to the other shoulder. He made a nodding guesture to the ocean. That's what has brought him out here. After a moment, he turned his eyes to her.

"I would help you," he told her. Of course he would, despite being a vampire, and despit having killed over 2,191,095 people (nearly one every night and soemtimes more) he still is a very kind soul.

She stepped closer to him as she felt his hand upon her shoulder. At his nod towards the ocean, the child turned so that she could face the dark waters. To her, it didn't seem as vast standing down here on the beach as it did up on the cliff overlooking the beach. She could feel his eyes open her again but did not remove her own gaze from the dark water.

"Help me?" she questioned softly. "Find him? Help me in what way?" The child has only been a vampire for one hundred and ninty seven years but yet she's already killed approximately five hundred and ninty one mortals. That is from feeding on an average of three mortals each night.

"Do you thin I've lived for six thousand years and have not made many, many friends among the living and among our own kind?" It wasn't a repraochful phrase, but he asked gently and calmly of her. Indeed, he's met many, lived with many, loved and disliked many. It is why he can so easily offer himself as her teacher and her helper for so long as one hundred years, more or less.

"Surely others know him. And if her kept whores as you claim was possible through rumor, then he had to have had clients, and those who worked for him." It does make sense. Especially with his age and knowlege of other vampires. Were there a vampire council of sorts, he would probably been asked to sit in one of their seats due to his power and his age, not to mention his knowlege.

"Do you thin I've lived for six thousand years and have not made many, many friends among the living and among our own kind?" It wasn't a repraochful phrase, but he asked gently and calmly of her. Indeed, he's met many, lived with many, loved and disliked many. It is why he can so easily offer himself as her teacher and her helper for so long as one hundred years, more or less.

"Surely others know him. And if her kept whores as you claim was possible through rumor, then he had to have had clients, and those who worked for him." It does make sense. Especially with his age and knowlege of other vampires. Were there a vampire council of sorts, he would probably been asked to sit in one of their seats due to his power and his age, not to mention his knowlege.

She took yet another step closer to the ancient vampire. She was entirely at his side now. Due to the three feet plus height difference between the two, if she were to lean her head sideways towards him, her head might not quite reach his hip. Far too small to be an eight year old mortal of these current times.

"When I set out over the vast waters to flee from England," she began softly. "I knew not where I was going. Something drew me to these lands. To this very city perhaps. I know not what it was though." She paused and grew very silent for a few moments.

Baby blue eyes still gazed over the vast dark ocean. "I have met a yearling vampire male. He intriques me. Interests me very much. And yet, I know not why this is so. There is something about him that seems almost... familiar in a sense. I know not how to explain it really. Even through his harshly spoken words does he still intrique me."

His hand never left her shoulder, but as she moved closer, he slid it over her hair and to the opposite shoulder, an easier and more comfortable. The side of his hand resting there, his fingers curled one curl around themselves.

Harshly spoken words.

"A bitter one?" He's met many. He himself had been fairly bitter and ignorant, running away from his sire to go back and return to his family. Eventually he'd returned to him because he realized there was too much to learn that he could not know alone and his sire already had knowlege of.

"Why are you telling me this? Are you just speaking, or are you inquiring?" Inquiring me to go look into this yearling and look for whatever it is that you feel drawn to?

One small hand came up to rest atop of the one on her shoulder. She leaned her head slightly towards it. Still gazing out over the waters. The stillness of the night was almost welcoming to the child. Had she been standing her alone, she probably wouldn't be this close to it. However, she was not alone. For the time being anyway.

She nodded her head slightly. "Yes," she answered softly. "He does seem to be bitter. Spoke of wanting to make another for his sire to replace him and then leave. But not leave in the sense of moving. Leave as in..." She paused. "No longer being." She frowned as she spoke those last three words. "His sire is a woman." That was just random.

Finally the child moved her gaze from the water to look up at the ancient one. "I am not sure," she said honestly. "All I do know is that there is something about him that has caught my interest. He does not feed. He resents being what he is. He was made because his sire was lonely." She paused for a moment and glanced back out over the water. "I want to know more about his sire I think. He does not trust me. I can feel it. So I know not how to find out more about her. I am almost certain that he will not tell me anything about her."

It did not suprise him that the vampire wants to die. "When my son died, I had wanted to die as well. He may over come that decission as I had. As many others have."


"Then you are asking me to attempt what you are sure you can not. To learn more about this sire?" It was a question. The child was not being clear at all. But he was trying to understand. And while he thought about this and thought of what else he should inquire, he ran three fingers through that curl, one finger rubbing up and down on the soft flesh of her palm on top of his hand.

"Why does he not trust you? Does he feel something in you that...is not worth trusting?" Such as ill intentions or hesitation.

She nodded her head slightly. "Yes," she added softly. "I am not entirely sure why he does not trust me. I have befriended his best friend who is a mortal. I have already given my word that I want not to harm the man. I like the mortal. He is... kind. Perhaps it is because I have no problem with feeding upon mortals as the yearling does."

"Perhapes it is because you haven't a problem feeding of mortals, and despite your promises not to feed of his friend, his friend is mortal." Well, that had been part of the reason but that wasn't the only reason. "Or perhapes he is just so jaded that he simply trusts no one and my attempt will become as futile and frutless as yours."

He turned his head to look up at the moon, his blue gaze light under the pale hue. "High tide will be coming tonight. We can not stay too long at this one spot." Why? Because he knew enough about the ocean and tides and beaches to know that by looking at the flatness of the sand, the tide will reach nearly to the cliff base.

"If I had any intentions on feeding from the mortal I would have done so already. The first night I met him, it would have been so easy to do," she said softly. "I want to know of his sire," she simply said. "But I know not how to go about finding out about her." She wasn't even sure why she was wanting to know about the yearlings sire. It was, perhaps, more out of curiousity than anything else. At least, that she's aware of anyway.

"High tide?" she asked curiously. "The dark water rises?" She moved slightly to put her small hand in his and turned away from the ocean. "Where shall we go?"

"I understand this, but does the yearling? Perhapes his sire is unkind or perhapes she teaches him to be cautious of other vampires. Or perhapes even he has met another vampire that inflicted this distrust of other vampires upon him. And for the sire it may take time. If you wish to do so yourself that is. You must earn his trust to speak on such a topic. Or I will do so for you, but even I would need to gain his trust."

His fingers folded around her small hand. "Not far," he replied. "Only further along the beach, the tide does not reach so far there."

She walked along the beach with her small hand wrapped in his. "How does one go about trying to gain the trust of one so untrusting?" she inquired. "I am not scared of him. I know that I can easily get away if he were to try to harm me." She's not said this to sound cocky in the least. She's just speaking what she believes to be true.

You've seen Morose mad. Is she sure she could get away without actually hurting him?

Loki followed her and moved along the beach, leaving small footprints for a man in the sand along side her tiny footprints. "Like I said, it takes a lot of time. You've just got to let it flow. Usually you have to form a friendship of sorts with creatures like that, let them learn who you are first."

You'd be surprised at what this small 'child' can do when she's put in a situation where she's either made very angry or scared enough to flee. Neither of which has happened to her thus far in her time in Bayfield.

"Let them learn who I am?" she questioned curiously. "I've told him of my search for my Father. Told him of the rumors that surround Father's disappearance. Told him of my age and such. What more is there for me to tell of myself?" Can you tell that she's confused? "He said he wanted no more friends because it ends up hurting him and them. He seems really set on no longer being at some point."

He shook his head and some of those loose stands from the tight braid shook over his face. "It is not what I meant. To get to know you. When you met me on the street and found my age and my name, it did not mean that you knew me. Did you not feel like you learned more about me holding a steady conversation that was nothing about me at all? Or to see my room, my belongings. That is to know me. To know who I am when i am relaxing, growing comfortable."

The water was creeping further and further up the shore line until it was nearly lapping at Loki's modern boots. His hand remained wrapped around hers.

She frowned slightly as she listened to his words. You could tell that she was trying to understand and grasp what he was saying. Yet, her childish mind, regardless that she is two hundred and five years old, wasn't quite understanding fully. "I do not have a room that I could take him to see my belongings nor to see me relaxing," she said with an even deeper frown.

She glanced down as she heard the sound of water growing closer to her feet. Her eyes grew wide as she realized just how close the water had come. She pulled her small hand out of his and brought both of her arms up towards him. "Loki..." was all she said as she stood there staring at the water that was too close for her liking. Obviously she's wanting him to pick her up.

He'd continued to walk even when her hand had pulled from his, simply assuming she'd pulled her hand free. But at his name he turned halfway and realized what she wanted. He cocked his head to the side in a fashion that looked suspiciously like a feline guesture and frowned, knitting his blond eyebrows close.

"Are you that afraid of it?" He came back and lifted her light body until he'd settled her sort of on his hip, sort of around his waist and side ways too so that she could mostly keep her legs closed lady-like and supported her with an arm around her and under her legs, the other remaining under her arm to balance her weight.

"If you've not got a room, just talk. Let him talk to you. Or talk about something simple. Like the evening, or people you see."

"No," she answered as he lifted her up. It wasn't so much that she was afraid of it. "I just don't want to get wet with that salty water," she added. And it was true. She hated salty water getting on her. It was so hard to get out of her expensive little dresses. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and lowered her head to his shoulder so that her cheek was resting against it.

"But what if he doesn't want to talk to me?" she questioned as she relaxed in his arms as he carried her along.

"I see." I doubt it's often when Loki doesn't have the taste of salt on his pale skin, the feel of dampness from the mist of the waves. He probably even smells somewhat like the ocean. And he'd spent more then 6,000 years with that feel, that taste, that smell on him. He let her rest her head, moved away from the water so that his boots would stay dry.

"Then I will certinlly try to speak with him for you."

What was it about this ancient vampire that made her feel so at ease and entirely relaxed around? It's funny because Enyo would have an entirely different reaction. She would be tense, nervous and just flat out up-tight about being around someone so very much older than her. But not Muirne. Muirne didn't care about someone's age. However, there was only two others that she ever felt this comfortable around. Her Dark Father and Jex. But there was something about Loki that made her feel even more relaxed and such.

One small hand began to play with his hair without her even realizing she was doing so. She kept both of her arms loosely around his neck. Small fingers toyed with his hair. "Thank you, Loki," she said softly. Her eyes scanned over the dark waters. 'Home' was somewhere over on the other side of those waters. Home. Oh how she missed it.

Maybe it's because, since he is so old, he's learned a great deal of things about...well...most everything. And since he's gained so much knowlege, what he says must be true, what he does must have purpose, how he acts and treats others must have a reason. And with Loki, all of this is true. He does not speak unless he has something meaningful to say to teach or to add to a conversation. He doesn't lie because he's brutally honest and he always has reasons why he treats someone like he does.

But then, you could expect that from anyone. Maybe she's so at ease around him because he's relaxed too. Or because he's ancient where her sire was old.

"Of course, Murine."

Or maybe it's because, in several ways, he actually reminds her of her Dark Father.

The child smiled as her small fingers continued to play with his hair. Baby blue eyes continued to stare out over the dark water.

"Loki?" she began softly. Her voice so very quiet that it could almost be considered a whisper according to a mortal. "Do you ever miss where you came from?"

His hair was so smooth that as she played with it, it easily pulled long thin whisps from the tight braid. He turned his face towards her at the softness of her tone, and then followed her blue gaze out to the sea with his own blue gaze.

"Honestly. I have trouble remembering now unless my memory is prompted. I can scarcly remember being human at all. I can't remember missing my home. I was at the sea whereever I went for a long time. Even now. I can remember missing my family though."

She listened to him silently. Her gaze not once leaving the ocean. The soft moonlight dancing over the moving waters. It was actually quite pretty.

"I miss Ireland," she said quietly. "I do not remember a whole lot about what my life was like before I was made into what I am. But I do know that I miss Ireland. England was not so bad. It was different. Exciting sometimes. What I miss most though is..." She trailed off there for a moment as she thought of how to word it. "What I miss most, I think, is the security that I felt when I was with Father."

"I never had security with my Sire. We came and went with eachother as we pleased. He was my teacher in the begining. Only a stranger once I'd learned all that I could from him. I supose that is because I was changed at an older age then you." He looked down when the sand grew moist under his feet and watched water lap at the boots again. He changed direction towards dry ground.

"Have you thought of returning?"

She tightened her arms ever so slightly as he turned and began walking further away from the rising water.

"No," she answered softly. "I could not go back even if I wanted to. It wouldn't be safe for me to." She fell silent for a few moments. When she began to speak again, her already soft voice had lowered even more. "I would be entirely alone again... not knowing anyone. I don't think I could that again."

He thought for a very long time, growing silent as he walked further away from the water, until his feet his pavement where the sand and beach connected to the sidewalk and then the road. He stopped and turned back to look at the ocean and the waves, creeping up onto the shore.

"Then you may stay with me as long as you'd like. But I don't stay long in one place." Of course, long to someone as terribly old as Loki could be a hundred and five hundred years. "And when I leave, you may remain or perhapes you would travel with me." Can you tell he highly doubts she'll ever find her sire?

She'd kept her little arms wrapped around his neck as he moved onto the sidewalk. After he stopped and turned so that they were, once more, looking over the dark water, she loosened her arms again. Her small fingers went back to playing with his hair again.

Her head lifted from his shoulder and she tilted it to the side a little so that she could look at him better. "Really?" she asked softly. "I can really stay with you?" Can you tell that she's not sure if she's really hearing him correctly? She knows she is, but is unsure of if her mind is actually believing it or not. "You'd really let me stay with you?"

"Yes," he replied without taking pause to think the answer over. Once Loki as made a decision, even if he comes to doubt his own decission (which is very rare), he does not change his mind. "Yes I would." When her arms loosened, he turned a little to gaze at her with his soft blue eyes before returning the gaze to the vast ocean.

Finally, he turned away from it, thoroughly smelling of salt and feeling it on his pale skin. His hair is soft and fine in her fingers, something being what he was had lended him. Because as a mortal, it had been nice but course with the salt in the air and in the ocean that he swam in, lived on.

Loki now has one /very/ happy two hundred and five year old child in his arms. The sound that escaped from her now was that of what an eight year old mortal child would do. A squeel of joy. Her little arms tightened around his neck slightly as she actually hugged him and pressed her little face against his shoulder.

"Oh thank you!" she said excitedly. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" It was several minutes before her arms loosened again and lifted her head slightly. She leaned her head forward and... kissed his cheek. Then she returned her head to his shoulder once more. Her little fingers going back to playing with his hair.

He didn't flinch against the squeel, even though to his sensitive ears it should have hurt him. It hadn't. Not really. He continued to hold her, his face turning back towards the sea when she kissed his cheek. He didn't protest the kiss but he did not return it either. Not because he wouldn't have or because he was being offensive. He didn't want to lul her into a false sense that he was any sort of father. All of his children were loooong dead.

"Your most welcome," he replied, and he turned again away from the ocean and began to walk away from the rising tide, towards the light of the city.

Don't worry Loki. She knows you're not her Father. Nor will she grow to think of you as such. In her mind, she has only one Father. No one will ever replace that Father.

A wide grin was on her face as he turned from the beach and began heading towards the city. "Where are we going?" she asked. Her voice once more returning to the soft eight year old voice that was normal of her.

"Your warm and have fed but I've not done so yet." Does that answer your question? Couldn't you tell by his cold hand beneath you, around your back? His pale, pale skin. Loki never grows very warm or very life-like even after he's fed, but the color of his skin is nearly sheet white, paler then when she'd met him.

If she wasn't holding her head against his shoulder, he would have been able to see her eyes light up at the mention of feeding. This child has an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter to her that she's already fed. There's times that she'll feed upon three, sometimes four, mortals in one single night. She has a never ending hunger for the taste of fresh blood in her mouth.

"Mmmm..." she almost purred after he'd spoken. "Sounds good..."