The smell of sex hung upon the dark, heavy and with an aura of satisfaction. There was a small fire burning in the miniscule hearth, but it was slowly dwindling into nothing but orange embers. Still, it caused shadows to dance upon the walls, and upon the woman who lay with her companion in the bed. Pale, cold limbs were tangled with warm pulsing ones, brown with the stain of day. From him, deep, sleepy breath. From her, only the shallowest, as she regarded him through heavily lidded eyes. One long finger reached out to caress the curve of his cheek, and brush away a wayward piece of sweat-drenched hair. He looked very much like a child, sleeping after a long day of sleep, and in one moment, she loved him the way a mother would love a child. Considering what had just taken place, this should’ve seemed wrong, but it didn’t. It had been a matter of comfort to him, and a matter of necessity for her. She did not like to take without giving back.

She didn’t even know his name. He didn’t know hers. As of the second she left this room, they no longer existed to each other. It was an intricate dance that she’d danced for a very long time. She knew the steps.

Slipping out of bed, her pale feet flinched slightly at the chilly floor. Her long blonde hair formed a cloak over her body, as she moved swiftly around the room to collect her clothing. They were nothing special – a long brown skirt, a white blouse, and a few beads that she always wore about her neck. She put them on, smoothing out the wrinkles as she did so, and casting occasional glances at the man that occupied the bed. She’d had her fill this evening, and was grateful to him for it, but at the same time, she wondered if by her leaving, she killed off another part of him. If it was so, could she risk herself for him? The answer was as it always was: a resounding no. She could not help every mortal she wished to, as heart wrenching as that may be in moments like this.

Slipping into her shoes, she hummed a song to herself – a tango as it were – before slipping through the door with a blown kiss at the man she was leaving behind. The door closed with a click of finality.

Going down the stairs with the silent steps of a dancer, Lorelei came out in the room of the tavern, eyes scanning the room, her face completely blank. One step, then another. Each step seemed to have been planned out, and it all looked like she’d choreographed it. Taking a seat at the corner, she folded her hands on the counter, simply watching, silently.

A man came up next to her, and she closed her eyes. “If you’re done, and free, I’ve an itch I need to scratch.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I believe you have mistaken me for someone else.” Opening her eyes, there was such a hard look on her face that the man didn’t pursue it further, but moved down to the other side of the bar, muttering darkly.

Ordering an ale to calm herself and her beating heart, she sat there and almost hoped for the music of the night to embrace her.

'Why did I come here again? I should have just stayed home, or maybe picked up a few books from Tristan. Not this though..I'll just leave. I don't know anyone here so I'll just leave.'

The night had hardly been kind to Gabriel. His attempt at feeding had failed miserably when he discovered the womans wallet and a picture of her family, that along with his disgust of killing had pushed him over the edge and forced him to run from another meal. That was nearly a week without blood, and he knew it had to be showing.

His skin was paler then it should have been, his lips a nearly dead blue, and large dark circles surrounded the underside of his eyes. Even with his physical features looking poor, his clothing was still picked out carefully, a fine white collared shirt and a pair of dockers both freshly ironed.

He stood from his stool and without really watching where he was going-- as he was too busy staring at his feet-- began to head towards the door. In truth he managed about four steps before running into a wall in the form of a six foot man who, in Gabriel's opinion, must have been a body builder. To make matter worse the man wasn't alone. Two men stood next to him, one could be called stocky and the other would have to be lanky, but neither looked really weak. Regardless, Gabriel thudded to the ground with an "oof", as if he was a ball being bounced off a metal wall. His hand reflexively went to rub his back as he began to work his way slowly back to his seat, “Ugh, sorry about that. I guess I wasn't really looking at where I was going.”

The man stood there looking daggers at Gabriel before speaking, in a barbaric voice to fit a caveman none the less, “You prick, watch where you're going or I'll have to knock some sense into that scrawny skull of yours.” The caveman's two friends barked a laugh as he stepped forward to shove Gabriel back a few paces. “Move it prick.”

“Um..okay, really sorry about that. I'll just be on my way.” Gabriel kept his eyes down on the floor and began to edge his way towards the door as if hoping he could just melt into the floor and disappear.

“Why won't you look at us? What, a man like you too good to have a few drinks with other men? Or is it that you're just to scared to stick around.” His cronies gave another laugh.

“No, it's not that....I just don't want any trouble. I need to be getting home anyway, I...um....have plans with a girl...?” Sure, he had no plans with Rin tonight, but they didn't know that. “So if you'll excuse me.”

“Oh I see, well I'm sure you'll have fun, after all any girl willing to even stay in the same room as you must be willing to put out at least. Maybe you can give me this whore's number so I can give her a call and show her what a real man is.”

'Am I bleeding?' Gabriel looked down at his fist, both of which where clenched tight and had a steady stream of blood flowing down his fingers to the floor. “I...need to go....” 'I'm sorry Rin, I can't defend you though...I just can't.' Gabriel took a few steps towards the door before a hand caught his shoulder, he turned around for a moment, 'Why did I turn around?' just in time to catch a fist in the face and to fall back onto the floor. Sure, they would be easy to kill if he could bring himself to actually fight, plus with the lack of blood in him he wasn't even sure if he could have killed one of them with ease much less three.

His eyes desperately sought a way to get out of this fight. Something had to be around to stop this, a hand lifted him up before other fists began to hammer at his gut. 'I should have dranken from that mortal. My head is killing me....am I starting to black out?....could this kill me....no....of course not....this is just punishment from god for not defending Rin....of course it is.....punishment for the divine...right?'

She had felt him the second he entered the room, his misery like a cloud upon her mind. While she was hardly telepathic, or empathic, or anything of that nature, she did possess a certain knack for knowing people. Hugging the mug in which her ale was confined, she tried her best to ignore it for now. Still, it pricked at the back of her mind, like an annoying child asking for a cookie. For whatever reason, she was in a rather bad mood this evening. Raising the mug that looked to small for her thin hands, she sipped at it, hoping to simply calm herself enough so that she could return to her home to meet the appointment one of her clients had scheduled for later this night. She needed to be calm and relaxed while she was reading the Runes, and her encounter upstairs, while it had left her stated, had left her deeply disturbed for reasons she couldn’t quite comprehend. Perhaps it was simply the setting, so like thousands of other taverns she’d been in before, with thousands of different people.

The feeling didn’t leave though, and Lorelei resigned herself to turning around to catch a glimpse of the one who caught it. Truthfully, she was more curious than she allowed herself to believe, yet that did not prepare her for what she saw. The poor boy looked half starved, ready to die his true death where he stood, amidst all these mortals. Frowning, and making her seem motherly, she observed him the way a mother would a child coming home from college, and observing that he looked completely undernourished. Her first instinct was to march over and demand to know why he was denying what made him what he was, what sustained him and kept him alive. Why would he throw away what the gods had so kindly bestowed upon him? It was a gift, though few saw it in such a way. She wished to take him for five minutes and show him the wonders that immortality could offer, for he seemed to be lacking in thankfulness.

Then, as the boy got up to leave, a scuffle ensued. Even as she saw the first flashes of aggression begin to grow, she placed down her drink and slid to her feet. Although she didn’t look it, dressed as she was in an attire that marred her as eccentric at best, she took a slow step forward, hesitant to interfere until she found it necessary. The muscles in her body coiled up like a spring, and her hands hung loosely, but completely ready at her side. Despite being Nephim, and having the abilities of command and mesmerism, her first instinct was always that of the purely physical. Lorelei considered it one of her greatest faults.

The second they started beating on him, she was there, placing hands on the chests of the men and pushing them back hard enough to make them stumble. Her eyes were wide with anger, and the skin of her face seemed almost taut. It was like she was one of the Furies descended from the Heavens to seek vengeance, and for one horrible second, it seemed like she might do just that, until her face composed itself into something calmer. “He has done nothing to insult you, and has sought to avoid conflict. I believe you should leave him alone.” The words were a suggestion, but the tone was a command. Her voice was hard, and she’d forgotten to use her abilities, but that hardly mattered to her at the moment.

Backing away from them slowly, Lorelei knelt down to wipe some hair from the vampire’s face. He was alive, but terribly thirsty. He was starving where he lay. Had she been the type to curse, she might have done it then and there, but as it was, she refrained, uttering instead a small prayer over him, to gods he probably knew nothing about. Then, standing again, with the air of someone who was completely resolute in what she was doing, she stood between him and the men who thought more with their testosterone than their brains.

“If you wish to harm him, I believe you will have to go through me first.” As if realizing what she was saying, she shook her head. “There is no need for conflict here. Go on your way, and there needn’t be any quarrel.”

She meant it. The next move was up to them. Whatever happened, it needed to end quickly. She wasn’t entirely certain the one on the floor would last much longer.

'Why am I not dying? I should be dead by now.....wait....the pain isn't coming anymore...it's still there, but no more is coming.' Gabriel's eyes moved from the ground where he had had them fixed so he could avoid looking at the men hurting him, he didn't want to hate them and if he didn't look at them he wouldn't remember them enough to hate them. Instead of them being around his dying body he instead saw a woman standing between him and the three men. 'Did she stop them? Just great, having someone else fight your battles for you because you can't do them yourself Gabriel, just great. Mitchifer is right, I really am pathetic....I don't deserve this life.'

The men looked over the woman as if considering whether or not they should bother with her, “He's as good as dead anyway. I think we taught him a lesson, if he lives he won't bother people anymore.” Nudging his friends the three of them moved away towards the bar where everyone else seemed to, for the most part, have forgotten the fight already.

Gabriel's arms shook as he began to push himself up, he got himself to his hands and knees before he began coughing up blood. 'I should have fed when I had the chance. Maybe this is god's way of teaching me to take the gifts he offers....could god still love me even though I am this....no...shut up Gabriel, of course God still loves you.' He glanced over at the woman next to him before pushing himself up more and clutching his stomach, “Thanks....I woul...ta-” The room spun for a moment and faded black before he came back into view and he was holding a table for support.

“I-I-I....nee...go..”Gabriel stumbled towards the door trying desperately to reach the wall for support and when he got there and began to hold himself up with the wall he could feel his body shake and grow even colder. 'What's going on....I should be able to make it...I won't die...not here....die....can I die...will Rin miss me...wait....who's Rin....she sounds important....like I should remember her...but...but.' The room spun again and faded to black for a moment before jumping back up just in time for Gabriel to see the floor rushing to meet his body.

If there were one thing Lorelei could simply not understand, it was the blatant disregard some beings had for others. She had been brought up to see the spirit, the soul, the essence – whatever you wished to call it – within every being, and focus on the similarities instead of the differences. She had been taught to respect life in all its aspects, for they were all a part of the god’s grand design. This knowledge seemed to have leaked away as the time had gone on, leaving her as one of the few that still retained it. It caused a slight frown on her face, more frustrated than anything. Crossing her arms, she leveled her glare on them. “May the gods have mercy upon your soul. I hope you do not wind up with Hel. She would not treat you kindly.”

Turning back to the fallen man, she knelt down as if to help him up, but he managed it upon his own. The frown remained, but shifted until it was more of a pitying worry. “You need not thank me. I would have done the same for any other. I have more than a little experience in these matters.” She regarded him carefully, and saw that he was suffering something terrible. It made her wish to lecture him, like and older sister would, but she did not know this vampire, and had no idea how he might take it, and she couldn’t very well do it in this place. It was obvious though, that he needed desperately to drink, and it needed to be soon, or he would wither away. She had seen such a thing in her time, and it was one of the things that truly terrified her. Whether he knew it or not, the man was wandering down that path, and it would consume him with pain. She did not wish it upon anyone.

Well, he was determined. She could give him that.

Catching him before he fell, Lorelei wrapped his arm around her neck, holding him up. Almost unconsciously, she made the subtle changes in her body to make it seem like she was bearing a great burden. Turning to the bartender, she said to him, “I believe I am going to need a room for this one. I will pay for it, have no worries.” Of course, she didn’t even bother to ask the man in question whether he wanted this room or not. Oh, no. It was obvious to her that he needed it, and so it was what he was getting, no matter what he thought. The bartender brought a key to her, which she accepted gratefully.

“Will you be staying with him, then?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so,” was her reply, “although I’m not quite certain for how long.”

He gave a nod at that, and said nothing further.

“Come, you,” she said to the man beside her. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

Gabriel felt someone holding him and helping him walk, then thoughts came. She was taking him somewhere, but why? He would not be taken by someone he didn't even know. 'Wait, you're starving Gabriel. Draw on that blood and pull it to your brain so you can speak. Words came, though hardly words he was used to using, no..these were the kinds of words he used when he was being bullied back home, or at least the tone was the same. “Where are you taking me! I'm perfectly fine to go on my own! I don't need your help! Let go of me! Abi crudus Meretrix! Abi in malam rem Meretrix! Abi I am no fragilis catellus!” (Roughly Latin for “Be off with you bleeding Harlot! Go to the devil Harlot! Be off with you I am no fragile puppy! Just so you don't need to look it up.)

He desperately tried to pull himself free, though in his current state he could barely push off a mortal 12 year old. Eventually he settled down and stopped his cursing, or at least lowered his voice so no one else would hear besides himself, though every so often his voice accented on a work meant for her to hear and it was rarely complimentary. 'Bleeding woman, taking me off like this! Treating me like I can't take care of my self! Argh! All women do this! I should hit her....no...violence is wrong, but still she could have at least asked me if I wanted help.'

Gabriel walked along though, just barely holding himself up. His head seemed to be making the world spin with every step. His throat contracted every few seconds as it seeked blood. As he looked vaguely around the room as they walked to the stairs he stopped seeing people...just blood....that's all they were was blood. His body wanted them...it needed them. Desperately he fought those urges down, knowing that if they won for even an instant he would never be himself again. "Why...are you doing this....."

(Sorry, don't really know what to do since he's like you know weak and such.)

While Lorelei loved men as a gender, and loved the compassion and sense of protection they could offer her at times, there were times when she cursed their sex for being so darned stubborn. Truthfully, they’d become only a smidge less stubborn than when they’d been Viking raiders in her day, but that smidge was not a lot in the grand scheme of things. Despite the fact that she’d helped save his life, and was still helping him, he refused to see that, and only saw that she was impugning upon his manhood or some such thing. Sending a half glare at him through the corner of her eye, she let out an exasperated sigh. Just her luck, that she’d help a Roman. Oh, she would have helped him even if she’d known he was Roman, but – in her experience – Romans ranked among the most arrogant of peoples.

“So fine, you can barely stand on your own, hm?” asked Lorelei, though not unkindly, still climbing the stairs. “You’re acting like nothing more than a babe in swaddling clothes.” Up the last step, and to the right, into a room like any others. She placed him in a chair (which mainly consisted of her pushing him down into one), before going to close the door, casting a wary look at the door that held her ‘victim’. Turning around, she placed her hands on her hips, “And as the woman who just stopped you from looking incredibly foolish in front of a room full of mortals, I believe I may deserve common courtesy, if nothing else.” Which was certainly true. Still, she gave him a look that was a tad sterner. “And I don’t care if you are upon death’s door, do not call me a harlot. I have never been bought by any man.”

Sighing, and kneeling to the floor beside him, she pulled back the sleeve of her blouse. “Why are you starving yourself? Surely you know the folly in it? You are not so young as that to be ignorant of such things. It was quite foolish indeed to venture out in such a state.” With a single swipe, a line of blood welled up on her wrist, and she held it out for him. “Drink,” she said, not even giving a thought to her own well-being at this point. “You are obviously in need of it, and it is fresh enough within my veins.”

Never let it be said that she was not generous.

“I am not a child!” The room spun for a moment before he calmed down, getting angry was only wasting his precious energy. He could feel his heart straining to pump blood that wasn't in his system any longer, feel the staggering pull and the sharp sudden pains that were now shooting through his body with every beat of his heart.

Her voice reached his ears and he thought he understood the language, but his head was in too much pain for him to answer coherently or to even think coherently for that matter. Then his eyes caught onto the blood coming from her wrist, that life giving liquid she was offering him. It seemed fresh from scent. Without much thought he bent over her wrist and began to drink quickly at first, but he slowed down before even two seconds had passed to a light drink and then stopped completely without taking much blood in.

His skin was still too pale and his lips were still blue, but he could feel his heart drawing the fluid in and feel his muscles awakening. In truth he had only taken a tiny amount, just enough to survive for a few hours without another meal. His eyes still were surrounded by dark circles and his eyes almost looked a little glazed for a moment before they returned to a normal state.

However he did not sit there and enjoy the new life, no he jumped to his feet and found himself with his back to a corner within moments. “Who are you? Why did you help me? Why wouldn't you just let me die? I wasn't seeking that death, but you could have been forced to harm those men in order to keep me alive...wait...you didn't hurt them did you?! They are alright right? Please tell me they came to no harm from this!” His face was full of regret and fear seemingly at the though of his would be killers safety. 'Oh god! What if they are dead! What did I do by coming here! Oh god no! I didn't want that to happen!' He dropped to his knees racked with shaking, whether for his near death experience or his fear for the men couldn't be known. “Please tell me they aren't hurt! Please!” 'I should be able to remember this...why can't I...was I really that close to death?'

He hadn't realized his eyes were glistening with tears, though no for the men downstairs, no these tears were for the others he had brought death on in his life.

Ever the picture of poise and patience in trying situations, Lorelei merely fixed him with a look of something akin to pity. In that second, she looked amazingly old, like a grandmother who’d seen her share of grief and toil, and was being confronted with a child who claimed to know the basic truths of life better than she. It was a long look, and not a tad frightening, and said things that simple words could not. “What is a child?” she asked. “Do you measure it in years, or in actions? Can you ever become adult? Is it not the untruthful truth that adults hold the answers to everything? If that is the case, then are any of us ever truly grown? In the faces of the Divine, we shall never compare, and we shall always be children.” A small smile. “I would not think it an insult.”

To say that the feeling of having another feed on her was odd was an understatement. It had been rare indeed that she’d let another vampire feed upon her blood, but this situation had called for it. Indeed, the last person she could remember partaking in such an intimate gesture was Clovis, but that had been in entirely a different situation altogether, and hardly warranted being compared with what was now happening. A small wince, no more than a fleeting line upon her face, before it was once again serene. He let her wrist go after an almost dangerously low amount of blood, but she didn’t question him. Of what she had seen of his manner up until now, he didn’t seem like the type who would appreciate it.

Apparently, he did not share the same feelings in regards to her.

Watching the wound on her wrist heal, she leveled pale blue eyes upon him, one hand fiddling with a twirl of hair. “I am called Lorelei Magnhild. I am of the coven Nephim.” Best get that out of the way, she supposed. “As to why I helped you… Why does a caterpillar turn into a butterfly? Why does a flower turn towards the sun? Why does a mighty black wolf chase the innocent doe? It is in my nature to help others, whether they wish for the help or not. I do not do it consciously, nor do I weigh options against one another. I simply do what needs to be done, as I have always done. Perhaps I should be asking you why you would question the motives of a friendly stranger. Are you really so jaded as to believe I would ask a price in return for my aid? Or perhaps you think I saved you only to make you a creature of my own making, to be my slave forever and to do everything I bid you to do?” She gave him an amused look, eyes twinkling like ice, and the corner of her mouth quirked up slightly. It was obvious that she found his questions immensely entertaining.

“Well,” she continued, standing up and stretching her long body, “If you think me so horrible as that, I suppose I must’ve injured and or killed those men downstairs. After all, a heinous creature such as myself couldn’t possibly leave such oafs alive, now could she?” A smile that faded into a look of concern as she saw his tears. Taking a few steps forward, she held out a cautious hand, like one would do with an animal, and said, “Nay, I didn’t kill them. They’re downstairs still, probably drinking. You’re welcome to go and look if you do not believe me.”

He paused looking at the hand cautiously as if preparing to run at any moment. More so then looking of it, his muscles tensed and he had already picked out a way of escape if things went bad. She was older then him and he was weak, but he could only hope his speed would be enough to get away. After a moment though he relaxed, if only slightly, and stopped looking at the hand as if there were a dagger in it.

“No, I do not think I need to go and check. Would me checking bring them back to life if you were lying? Besides, I don't see a reason why you would lie to me about something like this, just because it would be pointless to lie about such a thing.” He just hoped she was logical, from what he had seen of her she was, and if she wasn't well there was nothing he could do to change that anymore then he could change the past.

“Yes, perhaps you should ask why I question your motives. Though in truth I'm not sure if I could even come up with an answer to that if you asked. Maybe I've just grown used to being used by older beings, I have hardly met many who seemed to keep to noble motives....though in truth maybe their motives were good and they just saw using others as the only means to getting to there desired outcomes?” He paused for a moment after speaking, rethinking his words carefully before realizing he had only asked her another question in response to her unasked one.

His mind wandered for a moment as he began to review where he was and how he had gotten there. At first it wouldn't come, but with some prying into his own mind he got a few trickles of what he thought was truth. He was being killed from a lack of blood and by some mortals, she stepped in and stopped the beating, then brought him away from them, and finally gave him to liquid needed to survive. 'Hmm....that sounds about right.' Before he thought much more his cheeks became red, well as red as they could with his limited blood, “Oh my, I must seem like a blubbering, uneducated idiot. I'm really sorry for being so rude, my name is Gabriel Lanorus. It's...interesting to meet you Lady Magnhild. Also, thank you for your....help, it was unexpected to say the least.” At least now he could look her in the eye..well sorta, his eyes were still downcast slightly.

Then though, he remembered being dragged up here as if he was a sick animal that couldn't fend for it's own. "Though you could have at least...I dunno asked before dragging me up here! Even if I was weak, I'm still old enough to speak for myself!" His voice didn't really hold anger, more like that of someone who was used to having to yell in order to be heard.

He relaxed slightly, but Lorelei could sense that he was still vaguely uneasy, and so took a step back, and lowered herself into the chair he’d been sitting in previously. Folding her hands on her lap, she simply watched him, like she was a statue never to move. In truth, she could think of many reasons why one would lie about such a thing, but didn’t think it would sooth him to know them. So she kept her mouth shut, and watched him talk. By all accounts, he almost seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her, but it bothered her very little. Lorelei was a very good listener.

She shook her head, blood hair swirling about her face. “I have never used one younger than I for my own purposes. Why should I, when I could just as easily find a way to do it on my own?” A frown here, but due more to confusion than anything else. “Do you begrudge me because I’m older than you are? If so, I find that extremely puzzling. Your mother was older than you, was she not? And your sire after her? Did they have such bad intentions towards you, that you have become permanently cynical towards those of greater age than yourself?” Not the one to dance around matters, she simply asked about what it was that confused her, and it was easy to see from the childlike bafflement on her face that she meant no insult. She had met others like him before, certainly, but always seemed to be confused by their manner of speaking.

Perhaps she was too old.

Giving a shrug that meant absolutely everything, yet nothing at all, she added, “I do not know what other beings you have met, and I cannot say the reasons why they do what they do. That would be like explaining why every person on this world lives. It is simply impossible.” A pause. “I will say, however, that you should not be so quick to judge. You could lose valuable friends and allies in such a manner.”

Now a laugh, soft and amused, and kind eyes focused on his face. “I do not think that of you. I have seen many, known many. You do not fall into any of those categories. You are merely… disoriented.” Giving a slight incline of the head, she continued, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gabriel Lanorus. You need not thank me. I merely go where fate deems it necessary.” And therein lay the rub of her entire existence – never would she take credit for anything. It was always thanks to the gods, or fate, or someone beyond herself. It had been so for a thousand years, and it didn’t show any sign of stopping now.

Cocking her head to the side the way an animal would, she merely watched him. “And what would you have rather I’d done? Asked your permission, only to have my offer declined? You certainly seemed opposed to me downstairs. You would’ve starved to death in the midst of mortals. Would you have rather done that, and brought the Amman down upon this little establishment? Old you might be, but you were not in your right mind. Indeed, I would be interested in knowing the reasons why you put off feeding for so long. It was this that caused me to have to come to your aid in the first place, was it not?” She looked very much like a stern mother here, waiting for the child simply to fess up to what they’d done.

He smiled at her, strange for the man who seemed to be frowning most of the time, as he began to remember fondly of his mother. “My mother...my mother was a wonderful woman. I loved her with all of my heart back then. She was always there for me...until I ran away. I didn't run from her...or maybe I did, I don't really know, but I do know that I ran away so I could play the violin. When I came back I was what I am and she had died from illness as had my father and my brother had just vanished, it wouldn't be until later that I discovered he was bitten.” He paused for a moment to let that soak in, or maybe to think of what to say, “My sire saved my life. I had the plague and if not for her I would have died a horrible death. She left me though, but I don't grudge her for it. I don't even know if I miss her...”

He frowned now looking at the ground, thinking on who he grudged for age before looking back up at her with a bland expression. “No, it is not their fault I dislike my elders. No, that fault goes at my ancestor's feet. I met the beginning of my family line, he's still alive right now, and he used me. He used to be watch over a woman he loved, a woman trapped in stone, and later he used my family to make a clan which he planned on seeing into ruin from the start, all just to try and get ahead and gain influence in the world.” His fists tightened up in anger at the thought of that man, the man who he called father.

“Even with that, I do not grudge those who are older then I. I grudge almost all of all kind, so many of them throw away lives as if they were meaningless and show no remorse. I am not saying you are one of those, for I do not know, but it is hard to trust creatures which are willing to slaughter a bar full of people just to satisfy their own thirst or twisted amusement.” His voice was shaking now, though not with fear or sorrow like before, his fists had tightened even more so now that he was thinking of those monsters who did such things.

“I do not seek friends, some come to me when I look, but if I am in need God provides what I need. Otherwise my need must not be great enough.” He looked up at her as is weighing her for an instant before moving on. “And I do disagree with you on the note that you don't need to be thanked. No matter what brought you here, you did not have to act and yet you did. For that I am thankful to you.”

“Why I was starving myself? Hmm, I guess she deserves to know that much....I mean she did save my life.” He spoke softly and to himself before nodding to himself for a moment and looking up at her in a considering way. “Well, it's not really a complex reason. I was called away by a....friend of sorts to talk to him about some old matters. After I got back I had a lot to think about so I didn't have time to feed, then tonight I decided I needed blood. I headed out to feed and found a woman, in her thirties I would have to say, anyways I had her alone in an alley and we were chatting. I had no intention of killing her just taking a little fluid and moving on after taking her to her home. That's when she pulled her wallet out and showed me her kids. Her husband had left her and she was raising them alone now. I just didn't have the heart to hurt her. I left a few minutes later after getting her a cab and stumbled in here and well, you know the rest.” He took a deep breath since he hadn't breathed much since starting speaking.

Her head still cocked to the side, she listened to the story with eyes half-lidded, so she looked almost as if she were falling asleep. This was far from the fact, as she was only remembering how own mother, her own sire. “Mothers are divine,” she said softly, a wisp of a shadow seeming to dance around her in the pale light of the room, mostly due to the orange street light just outside the window. “But you cannot control the threads of time. They pull you like a puppet where the gods will it, so that those you love most might be the ones you never see again.” There was a note of regret, perhaps the only one you would ever hear grace her voice, but it was obvious that she wasn’t talking to him, not exactly. Her words were mainly for herself. “And sires… They are even more of an enigma. Do you love them for giving you a new life, or hate them for taking away the old one?” A sigh, but she already knew the answer to that question in regards to herself.

Blinking, Lorelei seemed to start out of whatever reverie she’d been in, and gave him a pitying look, complete with small smile. “Yes, I can understand how that would tarnish your respect for those of us that are older, but you must not let the follies of one paint the rest of us red.” She fiddled with her fingers. “After all, you would not say that all Frenchmen are arrogant and gaudy, simply because Louis XIV was so, would you?” Yes, this was quite common for her. Lorelei often referred to men or women from history as if they still walked this world, living the lives they had walked once upon a time. To her, there didn’t seem to be a distinction between past, present and future. She talked about dead people as if they were alive, and of alive people as if they had already died. Perhaps that’s what happened when you learned to walk every step in life by consulting the Runes for the future.

Her finger waggled at him. “That is sad news indeed, that you do not wish for friends. We are meant to have friends in this life. By having affiliations with others, we create the web that sustains us, just as the web sustains a spider. They become the net between us and our foretold deaths.” For a split second, there seemed to be a sour expression on her face, but it was gone so quickly that one had to wonder if it had really been there at all. “But if you ask for help from God, and expect him to provide… How do you know that it is not the people you are turning away that he has sent to you? He could be sending you your road to salvation, to enlightenment, and you could pass it by simply by walking away from a potential acquaintance.” This too, seemed to confuse her a great deal. “As for the thanks,” she continued, still a tad distracted, “I have already stated they are unnecessary. I accept them, but I will not do so again. We do as we must, and I move as I must. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Leaning forward, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair, and her head upon her arm, she regarded him in a calculating manner. “If that is indeed the manner, then perhaps it was not as large a folly as I had previously believed. Still, I would watch myself from now on if I were you. It would not do to have you die, or become mad with hunger so that the Amman had to come and deal with you. It would not do at all.”

Gabriel looked at her for e moment before as he tried to come up with a good answer, “No, I guess you shouldn't judge all people based off the few you've met. I mean many people find Romans arrogant and self centered(Couldn't help myself) and while some of us are, others are quite the opposite.” His face became calm and collected as he schooled his emotions into check.

At her mention of people being sent away he paused for a moment, that was something he asked himself quite often when alone at dawn. “Yes, that is true. Some people however are better left unmet as I bet you would know.” He had met more then his fair share of people that had only been around to cause him trouble and to get him to the point were he had very few options. “Sometimes I wonder if it's worth meeting people at all since so many of them, more now then ever, just seek to use you and throw you away.” His voice became harsher for a instant, so brief and without touching his face that it could easily have never happened.

“Yes well, why would that not do? What would be so wrong with my death? If it was god's will who am I to question my fate? I would hope I have years ahead of me, but for all I know I could die before this night is over. Every second of life I have is a gift from the divine, easily taken back and something they would hardly miss.” His voice drifted into a distant tone, though it wasn't depressed, more like someone who had come to terms with this truth lifetimes ago and was just restating it. “Fate weaves itself, and it's will is law. To fight against fate is to be forced into place, but if you follow where it guides you then you may have a say in your outcome, or at least you'll enjoy the life it gives you before it's taken away.”

“Strange how free will comes into play with this, maybe in truth there are a billion different patterns to be woven based on any decision. Like, had you taken a few more seconds in getting to the room downstairs, I would be dead and this conversation would never have happened. Or if you had not taken your business into this place who is to say what would have happened? Is fate set in a fixed picture or does the weaver have a infinite amount of patterns to shape it into based on the tiniest decision? Maybe he has many paths to take just to reach the same destination? Do we even have a free will? Maybe in truth our will is just an illusion, our thoughts and ideals so fixed in place that our decisions are just the only logical thing to do, if that is the case what of the illogical? Are there decisions based off something else entirely? I guess we'll never really know, but it is interesting to think about.” He shook his head slightly as he realized how badly he had been rambling in a distant vague tone, even his eyes had been fixed on a corner of the room when he zoned out. “Oh, pardon me. I tend to ramble sometimes.” A faint blush crept unto his cheeks.

Lorelei’s eyebrows raised up almost to her hairline, and a slight smile quirked at her lips. She found almost nothing to say, but was immensely amused that she’d backed herself into a corner of her own construction. The only reply she could really give was, “Quite.” Still, the predominant emotion showed upon her face, and made her eyes twinkle like ice-covered ponds in the noonday sun. It seemed as though the laughter wished to bubble forth, but there was an impregnable dam holding it in check.

“But if you had never met those people,” she retorted, slipping a piece of hair behind her ear, “how would you know what sort of people you found honorable, and which you did not? You would be naïve if you didn’t have the experience of horrible acquaintances behind you, and you wouldn’t know how to tell them apart from the others now.” She let out a deep breath. “However, just because there are those people who are disreputable in the world, does not mean you should shun all new friendships. Those that appear to be of a foul temperament, could have hearts of gold within their bosoms.” Such had been the case with a few people she had met, and thus was the reason that Lorelei tried her best to open her arms to whoever seemed to need it, regardless of whether she found their personality pleasing or no. In the grand scheme of things, aid where there was shunning could prove beneficial for her. The gods had a way of setting right previous wrongs, should one be adept enough at looking for it.

“Do not say such things. The gods cherish every life that is born into the world, and expect us to do the same with the world about us. If they really cared for you so little, why would you have been created in the first place? Why would you have contracted that plague that made the vampire turn you? Fate is what Fate is. Perhaps Fate knew that I would be here to save you, and that was the reason it let you get so far gone with hunger. There is no such thing as coincidence Gabriel – coincidence is man’s way of explaining what cannot be explained with logic and science.” It had been a long time indeed since she’d simply spoken frankly about her ideas to someone who wasn’t a client, and it felt rather nice not to hold anything back. In this day and age, very few people understood her way of thinking. This was a world of free will.

Now she did laugh, but it was a kind laugh. “Most of life is illusion. Who’s to say where life ends, and death begins? Can you measure life by the functions of the physical body? Is consciousness restricted to the waking hours of our lives? There are a great many truths that are nothing more than simple follies. You learn to see past them.”

Or you died trying.