Sagaran glanced about herself skeptically as she stepped into the Gallery after sundown. She had long been of the opinion that Art was not functional, and therefore making such a fuss over something that could not assist mankind was irrational. However, it was no longer the dark ages. She had watched as mankind pulled itself out of the ashes of europe. She had traveled with the first settlers to the Americas and had barely escaped their witch hunts. During all that time, she had never felt the compulsion to immerse herself in the mortal passtime that was art or the appreciation of it, so why was she now so inclined?
She allowed herself to step further in, drawing the veil of her victorian hat over her face as she did so. She had just fed a fortnight past, and did not need any infatuated mortals following her around at the moment. Sauntering gracefully toward a brightly colored portrait nearby, part of her hardened opinions seemed to melt. In a moment she was thrown into the sea of hues and emotions portayed by the fauvistic peice, and perhaps now she understood a little of mankind's irrationality.
They had always been creatures ruled by emotion and want, and art seemed to further prove this fact. However, despite her lack of respect for human reasoning, Sagaran found that she liked this particular mortal pastime now. It may have been frivolous in the past, but now it was an outlet, and thus was needed. Besides, even if she was wrong, it was ok for a 1,529 year old vampire to be foolish sometimes. She decided that maybe she would look into this "art" thing a little further.
Smiling, she seated herself on a nearby bench in order to better view the works around her as well as the mortal's reactions to them. She found this was enjoyable.
Perhaps it was an irrational intrest, but at least it was entertaining.

Blaze quickly slipped out of the creeping chill of the night into the art museum. She started to make her way down the hallway as she clutched her sides and drew what was left of her coat around her shivering frame. Then, pulling her silver hair out from it's knotted mess inside the tattered thing. She next began looking for a special piece of work. Slowly, she turned into a familiar gallery and saw a woman wearing a strange outfit that looked more at place in a museum than on her, though in a strange way it did seem to fit her.

Blaze discontinued her examination of the woman and continued her search for that painting. Her heart soared when she finally found it about six feet away from her, right behind the strange woman. Blaze gazed long at the large painting, her bottled emotions of happiness, sadness, and fear was finally starting to show. This painting always rought up old memories both good and bad, and today would be her last chance to see it. She slowly combed her fingers through her hair as if trying to rid herself of all the nightmares that had entangled themselves with her sweet memories. She sat down on the opposite side of the bench as the strange woman, then turned her crimson eyes to her and did something that she had not done in forever; she started a conversation.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I don't understand why, but I feel a weird urgency to talk with you. If it's not to much trouble, would you perhaps listen to a broken girl's ranting?"

Sagaran didn’t pay much heed to the presence of the nearby mortal as she gazed into unchained emotion on canvas. At first, her mind registered nothing about the girl other than her obviously distraught state. The girl’s distress and confusion was bringing Saga slowly out of her daydream. It was when the young mortal finally spoke that Sagaran actually took the time to look at her. She had heard those words before, more than a millennia prior. In fact, she had said them herself. Confused now, Sagaran was not prepared for the mortal’s appearance.

What she saw instilled her with mind numbing shock for the first time in many an age. The young lady that was slumped dishearteningly alongside the same bench as Saga had the same wild look about her has Sidonia had so many years before… It was as if she had fallen back in time, and the ages seemed to melt around her like warming ice. Suddenly, she was back in that forsaken prison cell; back to where her life in death began. With wild and child-like eyes Saga stared at the poor mortal as if she were a ghost. A trembling hand reached across the open space between them to brush a strand of hair away from that familiar face only to realize it was, in fact, not Sidonia. Sagaran’s much beloved and equally cursed sire had hair so vivid a shade of crimson that she had never seen since, not locks of interesting silver.

Feeling foolish for her relapse into humanity, Saga drew her hand back only to stare into the now undoubtedly confused mortal’s eyes and she lost herself once again. In that instant, she fell into twin pools of that vivid crimson she had missed so much. Blinking back bloody tears and repressed memories, Sagaran knew. Sidonia was dead, but if there was such a thing as reincarnation, this mortal was definitely she.

Sagaran felt the emotions she had hidden and repressed for so long rush back at her. She immediately felt compassion for the Sidonia look-alike. Just as she had when she untied the pleasure slave so long ago. There had been a tragic look to Sidonia then too, something broken within her eyes. Saga felt the same was true for her sire’s mortal counterpart.

It was then that the Visigoth decided to make sure this mortal didn’t meet her end as Sidonia had.

“You aren’t so broken, darling.” Sagaran whispered, voice sweeping the air with ages full of sadness and joy. Her logical, icy heart was melting as she took off her hat. She wanted to see this girl without the hindrance of the veil Saga often hid behind. “You can still be repaired.” Saga smiled truthfully and without guilt for the first time since her turning. “That’s what you told me, remember? When I said the same thing to you?” Saga couldn’t help the scarlet streams that traveled down her cheeks to nestle invisibly among layers of deepest black. The emotions she had bottled up before and numbed her mind against were now so strong that they were physically paining her, but it was so wonderful to feel again.

“Please, rant to me forever if you must.” Sagaran answered the girl quietly with a pained smile, putting an arm around her and pulling her closer.