His face had given away nothing, though she could tell he was surprised at himself. She wondered, the whole silent walk there, why he had invited her? It seemed their relationship was borderline dislike, yet here they were about to walk into a bar together. He was going to buy, not a date, but it looked like one. And why, she wondered, had she agreed? It wasn't everyday that she was tolerant of anyone, let alone agreeable.

She tried not to think on it. After they had said goodbye to Nikki, Kane and Amara had left. She hadn't much to say and Amara assumed she didn't want to come. Amara, on the other hand could use a release. She choose an old favorite. It was calm, not a party scene, a good place to talk. Not that she wanted to talk. Still, she didn't think tonight she could stand swarms of humans and a pounding headache from the lights.

Eyes went to the two of them as they slipped into the bar. She ignored them and walked to the bar immediately. The bar was less private, more comfortable, than a table. It would seem less intimate. The bartender knew her well and the look in his eyes showed that he was surprised. First that she had not come alone or with a woman, and second for the way she was dressed. She didn't look like a hooker.

Oh what a surprise. She rolled her eyes.

"Hello again."

She then turned to look at Kane.

"Well, I hope you don't mind the place. Seemed simple enough."

Kane glanced around, taking in the... atmosphere, that was it, of the place. It was dark, gloomy, and suited him just fine. He didn't feel like flashy or clean even, which was probably a good thing. Smoothly, he nipped neatly into a stool next to Amara, leaning one elbow against the bar.

"As long as they've got Sam Adams ale or scotch, it suits me fine." He replied, ordering a mug of the first and two fingers of the second. Taking a whiff of the scotch, he tapped a finger on the bar absently, and picked up his ale. That scotch would probably not be out of place as an industrial disinfectant. Nodding to his companion his eyes, forever dark and hard as stone, flicked around the place, before landing on Amara again. "And the lady will have...?"

Kane took a sip of the ale, apparently having eased slightly on the walk from the park to the bar. It was just a drink, nothing earth-shattering. If she started raising his ire again, or he hers, one of them could walk away. Just like that. Besides, it seemed they both could use a drink, maybe a companion. Even if said companion sometimes annoyed them.

"Sam Adams," she said, her gaze going to the bartender. She didn't usually drink, but she liked beer.

Her eyes went back to Kane a moment as she watched him, studied him. He seemed much more comfortable. She guessed she could say she was too. This was familiar territory for her and being in her own scene made her feel slightly like her normal self. She was dressed in white, for goodness sakes. She couldn't remember the last time she dressed in white, or the last time she wore purple eyes shadow.

She picked up her beer, took a sip, put it down, all the while her blue eyes watched Kane. She didn't know what to say to him.

"So, where are you from?"

Her own accent told the story. German, all the way.

OOC: I finally read Amara's bio, and, as a point of curiosity, was wondering if she is bothered by the fact that Kane is black.

OOC: Not really. She has pretty much started let go of her old ways, due to recent happenings, though if you want I can make it so...if you think it would make things more interesting.

OOC: Naw. I was just curious. So, are they just going to talk, or what? Again, just curious. :heh:

Kane raised his ale in a humorless toast, his dark eyes meeting hers steadily. ”Montgomery, Alabama of the good old US of A.” His voice was bitter, and despite the fact that he’d just revealed that he came from one of those places that happened to be infamous for their drawls, was without an accent. Taking a swallow, as if to wipe away that sour slime that had just coated his throat, he set the bottle down carefully before continuing. ”From the old days.”

He could feel it still to this day, those ugly puckered scars that ran along his back in an irregular crosshatch pattern. They rubbed against his shirt, constant reminders of the way life was. Just thinking about gave him the urge to reach a hand back, to feel the hard lines. Ah, but today was for the now, no? Kane gave himself a mental shake, and turned his attention fully to Amara.

”How long have you been in Demaitre?”

OOC: -Dies-

OOC: Lol, perhaps they can piss each other off a bit...stir up some action...in more than one way. :suave: :rolleyes: :lol: I don't know, what do you have in mind?

From the sound in his voice, Kane didn't like where he had come from. He was entirely saracastic and it made Amara smile. She wondered what he did there, wondered what sort of background he had, though since he was 160 odd years old, she could only assume he had been around before the Civil War had happened. Not very fond memories, she was sure, by the looks of his skin color.

"Um, I don't know really. Not too long. I usually don't stay in one place too long, have a habit of trying to escape the past and the future. I live in the present and for one thing only. Trying to kick both of those habits. I think, though, I came here a little over a month ago."

She looked away, thinking about the past she had been trying to escape from. A life filled with hatred. Now her life was devoid of that hatred so complete, and devoid now in meaning. What was the purpose of living eternally when all she was meant to do was kill, something she no longer cared for.

Well, she couldn't say she didn't care for it, but it made her feel guilty to have such a passion for murder. She couldn't help it, old habits die hard as she told herself before, she would kill and kill again, brutally. She always had and she didn't know how to change it, no matter how much she wanted to.

Her eyes went back to meet his and a strange question formed in her mind.

"Do you ever wish that there was more to this life we live? Do you ever wish it wasn't the same thing night after night, for something sponataneous?"

Okay, so it wasn't like her to ask questions like that, but who said she was herself...who said who she was at all really? She didn't even know anymore. Sitting her with Kane proved that her level of tolerance for most people had changed. Talking to Kane proved that she was no longer the person she used to be. She was no longer guilt-free. She no longer enjoyed the silence as she used to. She couldn't until her questions were answered. All the questions starting with why. Why did she have to be the way she was? Why did she have to kill? All those and more.

"Do you ever wish for...love?" The last question was more abrupt and out of place than the others. Almost immediately her cheeks flushed. She felt stupid for asking a complete stranger that sort of question. But she had been dying to do so, to see what others like her thought. She was no longer able to just accept this "gift" she was given, as she had before. She used to hate people like her, people who wanted to be human again, or something close to it. Now she was starting to think that being a vampire was more a curse than a gift.

OOC: Hmmm... I'm not sure. I like the idea of them sort of getting bitchy with each other again, and maybe having all that heat just boil over.

Kane nodded at first as he listened to her speak. So, she hadn't been in Demaitre that long either; he'd only been here a couple of days. Trying to escape the past and the future? He wanted to let the humorless laugh out as he heard that. It sounded a bit like him.

But unlike Amara, his past wasn't really what bothered him. The faces of the mortals he'd killed, soldiers and otherwise, had all just kind of blurred together with no distinguishing features. They didn't haunt him. He was more or less at peace with being a killer, looking upon it in much the same way a wolf might look upon killing a doe, which was without much emotion at all.

It was his future that he was trying to avoid. Night after night of wandering and feeding, of the same thing for, literally, forever. There was nothing in his future to look forward to.

"Do you ever wish that there was more to this life we live? Do you ever wish it wasn't the same thing night after night, for something sponataneous?"

He looked up sharply as her voice came again, for the words so closely echoed his thoughts he almost wondered if he'd spoken aloud. He hadn't of course, and his dark eyes settled as he replied. "I do. I very much do." He murmured quietly, taking a sip of his ale for lack of anything better to do. And when she spoke again, he pondered her words carefully.

Love? Did he wish for love? He shook his head slightly, even as the thought still ricocheted through it. "Love? No... Not love so much as... purpose." He finally replied, his words thoughtful. "Love is fragile, so easily snapped. I want something... steady, I suppose is the word. Something more than just the mindless routine of existence."

In a sense, Amara was trying to avoid the same thing he was. She had always been okay with the fact that she had been a killer. In fact, she had lived for the kill. Lately though, she had been attracted to a mortal woman, felt guilty because of the people she had met (including Dryden), and felt pity for the man that made her who she was: a man she hated. She was definately not sure who she was anymore, or what her purpose was.

So when he answered her question, her first response was to nod and smile sadly. So she wasn't the only one slightly bitter in this life. His next answer though, surprised her merely because she had thought the exact same thing. That was when she realized she understood where his confusion had come from earlier that night. They both shared the same thoughts.

Silence followed, not awkward though, just silence. What he had said made sense. She wished for a meaning to her life, a steadiness, yet not dull. She wanted something to hold onto, and love had always been her escape. Except love had never worked out for her. Love led to her death, as well as her life after death, if she could call this a life. So then she ran from love, only to be left with nothing. To feel empty and without a purpose. At least that was how she was feeling now.

"What is the point?" she whispered, frustrated, "Why do we live as we do? We have no purpose, except to never be fully living and never be fully dead. We walk the line between a mortal existance and death and can do nothing about it. We have no control. Is it worth it?"

She stopped ranting for a moment and took her eyes away from his, surprised at her outburst, but knowing she had been dying to get that out for a long time. She wanted answers, but knew she wouldn't get them. Still, to voice the pain and frustration she felt with the life she wasn't living felt good.

She reached out and grabbed her beer, taking a long swig, then set it down. That was when the nazi tattoo on her forearm became clearly visible.

"At least I had a purpose when I was in the war," she muttered almost inaudibly, "A purpose far more than just killing."

((Didn't know how else to start the anger, but now she is agitated and perhaps at seeing that she is a Nazi, it may set him off))

The point. Ah, that elusive question. Was there a point, would there ever be one? Kane stared into his ale, startled by how much he had drunk. Not that it was important, he was a fairly big guy and it generally took countless beers or half a bottle of scotch to get him completely drunk, it was more a statement about how involved in the conversation he'd become.

Refill.

He listened to Amara's speech silently, agreeing with every word she spoke. They existed without living, waking up without changing, days passing but not touching them. What was worse than that? The her tattoo flashed, and his already dark eyes went narrow and harsh.

Nazi.

A snarl crept its way onto his lips, a reaction so automatic it didn't even register. Kane still had plenty of hate in his heart, cold and dead as it was, for those that passed judgments of superiority based on skin. Old habits die hard.

"At least I had a purpose when I was in the war... A purpose far more than just killing."

"Purpose? In the form of bigotry?" His voice was soft but harsh, snapping like a club on stone.

Amara watched as Kane's eyes went dark, when only a second ago he had been agreeing with her completely. She had gotten this reaction many times. It wasn't new to her, though this time she was actually surprised. Not at his reaction, because that was to be expected, but that she had actually said that aloud. She thought she had only been thinking it. She hadn't meant to offend him.

Still, his repsonse made her more uptight than she already was, though rightly so. She snapped back at him.

"You of all people know what it is like to be forced to do something you don't want to do. That was the first time I was the one in control of my own life. I was free to do as I pleased. I influenced people, gave others purpose, a goal...despite the fact that it was in the form of bigotry. I'm not saying I'm proud of what I did. I'm only saying, well...maybe I am proud of what I accomplished. Not the murder, or the war, but the person I was. Now I have nothing to live for. Then at least I had myself. I don't even have that anymore. I wonder if that is something you can understand?"

Amara fell silent, fuming still. Who was he to tell her what was right and what was wrong. He couldn't understand what she had been through. She knew what went on then wasn't completely right, but still, it was bound to happen sooner or later. It happened, and she, being Arayn, did her part. She protected who she could, played both sides. He had no idea what it felt like to be torn between good and "evil." To choose good would have been to die. At least she helped those she could. Sure, she had been Nazi at one point, a full believer. But when she found out what Hitler had been doing, well she started to play the secret agent. Not the cowards way out, maybe safe, but she did more than she could have ever done had she outwardly opposed them. Her secrecy. That was what got her into trouble in the end. That was where the scar on her chin came from. Of course, she wasn't going to tell him that. She had plenty of scars to prove what she had been through, including the one on her wrist. The swatsika...

The bottle of ale hit the bar with a snap. Kane met Amara’s hot eyes steadily, and his voice still somehow managed to bite even as it levelly hit the air in reply ”Maybe it is. But I never judged people on what they were, and I certainly never killed them for that either.” His eyes, lightless and hard, shot black in the gloomy tavern. And despite the tone, the bite of their words now, he stayed where he was, sitting against the bar.

”You wanted to be your own person? To be free to do as you pleased, and be who you pleased? To influence others into doing what you wanted them to do?” Kane was angry, and he gave not a thought to how it might’ve been for her. He didn’t care over much with how it might have been for her. He was not a fair man, he saw things from his angle and didn’t usually give a thought to the other ways it could play out.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Deliberately, he spread his hands against the sweat and smoke-streaked wood of the bar, having to consciously remind himself not to smash a fist right through it. ”What about the other ones? The ones who died so that you and those that thought the same could influence and be themselves?”

Kane’s voice was bitter, as the matter was a bit personal to him.

Amara bit her lip, eyes flashing red as they did when she was hungry as well as angry. She was not a killer, or at least she had not been. She had no choice in the matter now. Even now, she refused to be one...at least for as long as she could. His comment had set her off though, she let loose what she had been hiding. The truth. It made her feel weak...she hid behind the nazi emblem because it made her feel strong.

"I never laid a hand on anyone," she snapped back, "I never killed. I was 17 years old! Even in all my anger I could never bring myself to hurt someone. I was a slave to Hitler. You think the others were the only ones that were discriminated against? No, I was the 'perfect' creation. It was do or die. I was a child, I chose the first."

Amara moved from her bar stool, standing up. Her eyes were narrowed and her face now close to his.

"Just so you know, once I found out what was really going on...the murder...the camps...I fought against it as hard as you would have. Secretively, I influenced others to do the same. I put my life on the line to save those I thought I hated, right under Adolf Hitler's nose. Granted, I stayed with him still, but I had no choice. What good could I have done dead?"

Amara slammed her fist against the table, not hard enough to shatter it like she knew she could.

"You, of all people, should understand that."

Taking in a deep breath, she shook her head. The human side of her came to life with her anger and the pain she felt from dulging up the past. She forced the latter down. There was no way she would let him see how much this hurt her.

"I did my best to save those that I could, the others as you say," she added softly, her anger faded into something else. Understanding perhaps, "But I couldn't save everyone."

Then, in anger, as well as in an effort to hide the guilty tears she felt she turned and began to walk away. The past she had been running from confronted her. At least part of it, and now she was running again.

((He can follow her if he so chooses, or he can be angry or what not.))

Kane hissed beneath his breath, the sound packed with anger mixed with frustration. He listened to Amara speak, and as she did his harsh features took a softer line. Maybe, he thought hesitantly, maybe it wasn’t all as cut-and-dried as he’d seen it for so long.

To his mind, it was one way or another. A white person could be exempt from the bigotry and hate for those that were different simply by being white. Maybe it wasn’t that easy. Almost embarrassing how the thought had never occurred to him before, how he’d seen it one way or another, with no shades of grey.

When she stood to leave, he stood as well, tentatively placing a hand on her arm. In aggravation, he dragged his free hand over the top of his head. ”Look, I’m sorry, okay?” The apology sounded as if it had been dragged face-first over broken glass. Kane didn’t do sorrys very well. As he generally felt more owed than owing… well, there you go. ”To be on the other side, the side that never gets a choice in the matter… well, you just had to have been there.”

He felt like an ass. In more ways than one. Kane’s apologies never came out well; he always ended up stumbling over his words worse than a drunk walking down a cobblestone street. He understood that he hadn’t said the best things, and in his clumsy attempts to correct them he was probably just going to end up making a bigger mess altogether.

Amara stopped as she felt the touch on her arm and she turned around to face him. Her frustration still showed in her eyes, but the anger had calmed a bit. His, almost forced, apology...however hard it was for him to say...made her feel better. She realized she wasn't being fair either. She didn't know what it was like to be on the other side. She did have a choice. He hadn't.

She brushed off his apology, though she was greatful for it, "I understand. And you're right. I'm sorry too...."

Her sorry sounded the same as his. Like she had to force herself to say it. Pride had always been her downfall, and it probably always would be. Apologizing to someone was never in her book. This, she could honestly say, was the first. At least that she could remember.

But she did owe him one. Afterall, he had misunderstood her, but he still hadn't gotten the whole story. She had enjoyed being Nazi, for a while. She had been drawn in by Adolf Hitler's handsome face, kind eyes. She had fallen in love with him, but when she found out that he had fallen out of love with her...well, she grew angry. She worked against everything he worked for. She let out secrets, told lies. But it wasn't because she felt as if she morally had to, not until almost a year later when she actually left him. She was angry and hurt. Her motives were not pure, but she was only human.

Perhaps the reason she still often wore his jacket, the one she had stolen from him long ago, the one she did not wear tonight, was because she was still holding on to the memory of his love. Or perhaps it was because murder now meant as much to her as her own life did. Nothing...either way the Nazi emblem gave her power when she needed it and made her feel ashamed on other days. The tattoo on her wrist could never be erased, not even with some medical procedure. She was a vampire and which ever way she decided in the end, she would be labeled a Nazi for eternity, literally.

"Besides," she added in a whisper, "You shouldn't apologize until you've heard the whole story...to be saved for another day of course. Look, I'm going to take a walk. Come along?"

Kane nodded, both accepting her apology and thanking her for accepting his own. It had been bad enough that he’d needed to apologize in the first place, it would have been worse if she’d tried to rub salt in the wound. In an odd, distant way, it made him feel better, if only marginally. And the fact that her apology was more than a little rough around the edges helped as well, he could commiserate after all.

His eyes, always as dark and hard as polished wood, seemed to become less guarded, the anger more or less leaving them. Kane was hardly an upstanding pillar of morality himself. He’d killed more humans than he cared to count, though most of them he still felt had deserved their fates. The dark-skinned vampire would be the first to admit that he had not been looking for justice when he’d hunted, those many decades ago, but for revenge. Perhaps there should be shame in that, but Kane wasn’t so sure. Certainly, however, he knew that he didn’t want to think about it.

Laying a few bills on the bar for their drinks, Kane slipped his hands into his pockets as her whisper reached his ears. ‘The whole story’? He wondered what exactly the whole story might entail, but nodded as she mentioned a walk. Why not? ”Sure.”

Amara didn't know why she had accepted his apology, nor why she had made him apologize in the first place, but either way the tenseness of the situation was released...at least for the most part. And he had agreed to a walk with her.

Where to go was a good question. They had just come from walking, why she wanted to go out was a good question. Still, she could feel the effects of the beer she had just barely finished, mixed with the three or so drinks she had earlier that night. Maybe that was why she had been so touchy in the park. The destination at that point didn't really matter to her.

"Good."

She was glad he had paid. A gentleman, despite the arguement. So he didn't hate her. At least not yet.

She grabbed his hand and smiled slyly, before pulling him gently towards the door.

"Let's go do something spontaneous."

Spontaneity. There was something he hadn’t engaged in for quite some time. For many reasons, some of them foolish and some of them just because. But something felt different tonight, and that, Kane reflected, was foolish. What would make tonight different from any other night? The company, perhaps, and there was an oddity in itself.

Rarely was Kane even in the company of others, let alone former Nazis.

He allowed himself to be tugged along without resistance, an amused kind of smile on his lips. Amused or not, however, it still seemed vaguely out of place on his carved features. ”Suits me fine.”

As Amara pushed open the door and the sharp air greated them, she stopped and turned to face Kane. She was pouting, slightly unusual for her and it made her look like a child.

"Uh...do you have something in mind?"

She certainly didn't. She couldn't remember the last time she did anything "spontaneous."

Still, she couldn't bare to disappoint him. The amused smile he had given her not moments before made her smile as well. It broke her sour mood, which was also something that had not happened in quite a while. Now she didn't even know what to do with it. She'd only been dancing as of late, but that was really habitual too and didn't sound like a lot of fun.

So what, she wondered, else was there to do in a city like Demaitre? Plenty, she supposed. It was coming up with something that was the problem. Then again, thinking of something didn't sound entirely spontaneous. Maybe they should just go with the flow, see what happens.

((sorry, distracted post))

Kane gave a good-natured grimace in response to Amara’s question. What, him think of something spontaneous? There was a challenge and a half for the dark-skinned vampire. It was rare he did anything for pleasure besides feed, and that was hardly out of spontaneity. What was there for a bored creature to do in Demaitre?

Surely there was something after all.

Dance, perhaps? While not perhaps what someone would expect from him, but Kane rather enjoyed dancing. And he wasn’t half bad at it either. Imagine that.

”Dancing?”

Amara smiled, rolling her eyes. She had been dancing every night since she had come her. Or almost every night. But then again, it had been to hunt. Perhaps when she wasn't alone, when she had a male companion it would be much more fun. Maybe she should agree and see where it took them from there. Besides, she was tipsy and dancing with a male was much more fun when she was tipsy.

"Okay, I'll agree with you on one condition..." She paused, smiling slightly, "If I want to leave you have to come with me."

She smiled and began to walk, casting a sly glance in his direction. This may be fun after all.

"Let's go dancing."

Kane chuckled slightly, meeting her look with something that could -almost- be called a grin. "I think I can live with that." He replied lightly, shortening his long stride slightly to walk by her side.

OOC: So bad, but I'm almost completely braindead... Where are they going to go?

((Um, I can start a new post in the whitemice night club if you want. That's dancing))

OOC: Okay, good. :D