Syaoran sat silently, lost in a book only three hundred years younger than himself. Though he was so modernised...a part of him still loved and lived for the past and it's glory. Back then there was such a thing as honour. That one thing that Syaoran lived for...dedicated his whole being to. So here the ancient warrior sat, his flame filled eyes scanning over beautifully scrolled words. The last thing on his mind was that Renquim...and he was thankful he had heard no news of the boy since he last saw him...But still in the back of his mind...he did wonder. Syaoran dismissed the annoying thought and concentrated soully on his book. His well built, yet slender body sunk deeper into the chair and he let himself relax, and his mind wander across the words lazily. The last thing he wanted was an interruption...

Sitting in the darkest area of the library she could find, Nafretiri sat engrossed in the work that lay before. It was not her profession, no, but it was something that, in her opinion, her life depended upon. Before her lay some old battered books dating back half a century, and some scrolls of papyrus that dated back much, much further.

The scrolls were in fact her journals, long kept in the vault of some European bank she had deposited them in too long ago to remember. Though the papers were frail and the once smoothly painted hieroglypics had faded a tremendous amount, the woman still read them as if they were the morning paper fresh off the press. So overcome with her task was she, that she wasn't even aware that another of her kind sat within the very walls of the library.

Or at least, not at first.

As her rigid posture changed into one that was conquered by defeat, Nafretiri slumped back in her chair, looking dismally at her scrolls and the library books in front of her. While the scrolls brought back memories she would have rather forgotten, but could never seem to, they had none of the answers she was so desprately looking for. Sighing, she deducted that there would be no comfort in this, not tonight.

It was only when this case of self-defeat took her did she realize she wasn't the only immortal in the room. Looking around a bit curiously, but more suspiciously, she let her eyes travel the length of the room. She caught sight of him, for it was a him, and realized that he was not young. Oh yes, his exterior looked young for this day and age, but Nafretiri could tell. She watched him, feeling the nostalgia of his thoughts. She sat still, as only a reptile - or a corpse - can do, never making a sound.

((OOC: Um, yeah. It's long. Sorry 'bout that. I can't seem to write shorter ones lately. ;^^))

~ Stretching slightly, Syaoran yawned...his long fangs revealed. Closing his mouth again, he muffled his sigh with a lingering hand before turning a page.

"To what extent was the damage to the woman's neck?...as she was found cold and dead...an immense deal of her blood, life essence was drawn from her body. What foul creature took upon her like a leech to her throat? It shall be found and eradicated...its existance shall be erased from the surface of the plain..."

Syaoran yawned again.

Yeah...whatever. Again, he flipped to the next page.

"Searchs have come up in vain. All men sent to find them, have been dead in their wake. Is there some God they kill for? Why is it, that the blood of man will be the substance needed?"

Eyes still scanning, he sunk further into the chair...now feeling eyes bore into him. He needn't look up to see who, or what it was...his mind did it for him.

Is there something I can help with? He sent to her, sharply. Or are you content to just sit and stare at me?

Unlike most others would have been had such a predicament happened to them, Nafretiri was neither embarrassed nor insulted. In her opinion, such things were trivial, and were easy to overcome. Such was the way of people that if you surrendered yourself to your emotions everytime something midly shocking or disconcerting happened, life would be even more unpleasant than it already was.

As it was, the ashen mask that was her face did not move. Indeed, it was lacking its usual luster, for she had not fed in several days, and the skin had thinned so that her cheekbones were more defined than usual. The dark locks that graced her head were in curls today, tiny ringlets falling into her eyes, yet not stopping her from seeing what she intended to.

The truth of the matter was, the whole situation amused her.

There is nothing you may do for me at the present time. As you have stated yourself, I am content to simply observe. 'Tis the best way to learn things, and it often occupies my time. However, thank you for the offer of help. I believe there is little you could do to aid me with my quest. A small, almost undetectable smile formed at the corner of her mouth as she gave him a small nod of recognition and straightened her posture once again, giving her an aristocratic look.

~ Syaoran frowned. Why was this amusing for her. He briskly got up and walked over...leaving the book open behind him. He will return to it soon.

'Well seeing you are....you might as well get a better look.' He cooed quietly, positioning himself before her. 'And might I might know the name of my onlooker?' He raised an eyebrow at her. She looked frail to him at this point in time. Lacking a good feed, if he was correct. Now he was the amused one.

Her position did not change as he walked over. Her black eyes followed him every step of the way, but not a muscle twitched within her youthful, but ancient body. As he stopped before her, she raised one carfully plucked eyebrow in question, until he answered. Her amusement increased, but there was no visible sign.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the scrolls of papyrus, and resting in turn her head on her clasped hands. All her movements seemed fluid; rehearsed. "I shall tell you mine, if you tell me yours," she said, and though her voice was soft and quiet, there was amusement behind it, though barely noticeable. Her eyes never left his, and there was a certain wisdom behind them.

She wasn't about to give her name away to a stranger, even if he was of her own race. She was naturally suspicious of everyone, but mostly of men in particular. Old memories are hard to forget.

~ Syaoran smirked at her. Quick tongue...he liked that.

'Of course M'lady...' He bowed low, and looked up at her through his silky chestnut bangs. 'I am Syaoran Rouyu...' Raising slowly he smiled, he handsome face now brighter than usual. 'And may I have your name, M'lady? It would be an honour.' With that he pushed his ankle long trench coat away from his legs, revealing metal plated motorbike boots....a nasty little surprise if you were unfortunate to be kicked in the face by him.

((OOC: Sooooo true. They have metal on the cap and on the soles....It's amazing how he can move in them with out making a sound sometimes! :blink: " But still...half the time he just lets them make that clinking metal sound when he walks ^^...nice reply by the way!))

What an unexpected surprise. It appeared that chilvary was not all dead. A surprise indeed.

"Syaoran Rouyu," Nafretiri repeated, trying it out. It was most definitely asian, which collaborated with his looks. "It is a pleasure. I am called Nafretiri Afrikaisi, and have been so for many years." She bowed her head, sending her curls tumbling forward. The black of the hair against her pale skin brought out her eyes, especially with the tiny twinkle in her eyes.

She leaned back in her chair, smoothing out her long beige coat and black slacks. Without looking down, she was aware of the boots. Was it a show of strength? Possibly, but she'd choose to ignore it unless the man in front of her intended to use them.

((OOC: Eek. Wouldn't be fun being kicked by those things. o_o;; Thanks for the compliment.))

~ Syaoran gave her a gentle look.

'So what brings an immortal, eternal beauty like yourself to this library...it is the books? I find they grow on you if you read them long enough...' The corner of his mouth turned upward. 'Or is it the Egyptian scrolls that meet your liking, fair Nafretiri?' Usually he wouldn't bother to talk...in fact he would never caught himself with a woman...He was a warrior. But still one who had experienced many hundreds of years like himself...It was good to speak to another who could share wisedom...Others could be so narrow minded and thick at times. Tunnel-vision...that's how they saw things.

((OOC: Na-huh...If some guy got kicked in the face....his skull would sorta......collasp into its self.....ouchies...Um yeah. But...you're welcome. Syaoran usually doesn't talk to people that much...but I'm in that..."make him talk" mood.))

A soft laugh, sounding a lot like twinkling bells erupted from her mouth. She covered it with one hand, though the corners of her mouth were still visible. Regaining her composure, Nafretiri replied, "Eternal beauty? I should think not. There are plenty of other beauties, of that I am certain. I am sure that I'm average at best, though I may not be the best judge. My reflection eludes me."

Though often praised, Nafretiri learned to take it with a grain of salt. She was most certain that she was not as lovely as some would say, and she would continue to think that until she saw her own liking. As it was, this man had probably seen many women, and it was a wonder he had taken time to comment on her at all.

Looking down at her scrolls with their carefully painted pictographs and yellowing papyrus, her mood became slightly more serious. "Ah. I am afraid that these do not belong to the library, but rather to me. I am mostly here to reread what I wrote so long ago and try to answer a mystery that has been plaguing me for the last few weeks." With one finger, she touched the brittle page that would crumble if she was not careful. "I doubt such a library would be allowed to maintain such precious, ancient things, and I would not allow it if they were to ask."

((OOC: Nafretiri talks, but she's always suspicious of people and stuff. I'm in a permanent 'make her talk' mood. When I began, she barely said two words, but that got boring, so I like to think that she opened up to people in the city. ;;._.))

~ Syaoran smiled at her. He got a laugh...he was doing well. 'Yes...such things must be looked over often.' His bangs swayed slightly as he moved him self to a nearby seat. 'Do you mind if I sit? I would not wish to intrude if you are busy.' He took note of the words, symbols on the parchment that was layed out before him, but just not to probe nor read...it probably was personal. Not to be touched. But still it didn't fall short of catching his interest, though.

((OOC: Syaoran is just nice today....he doesn't usually notice women...being the honourable prick he is...but still. When someone catchs his attention though...he'll let them know. ^^....Have you read "Here but really gone"? If you have then you'll know about Hikari....I'm thinking of bringing in a mortal girl who is her reincarnate....but is more adventurous and alittle more out going with people...a shock for Syaoran, ne?))

"I do not mind," replied Nafretiri, carefully moving some of her things out of the way. She placed the books in one pile, and her journals in another. She worked quickly, but mindful of how fragile they really were. She could not afford to lose her journals now. They might be the only key to what was causing history to repeat itself. A sigh escaped her.

Her hands trembled a bit at the mere thought of it. She did not wish to become what she once was, not again. In this modern age where the value of human existence was extremely high, she would be discovered soon, and with her, the entire vampiric race. As an Amman member, that was something she couldn't let happen.

"Yes," she agreed. "I have not read them in an age, but I found that now would be a good time." She left out her intentions of possibly finding a cure to protect herself.

((OOC: Kewlies!! He'd be majorly shocked. I've been thinking about making a new character myself, but am completely lost as to where to start. I think it's the first time that's ever happened to me. Maybe I'll make a mortal this time...))

~ He put himself neatly in the seat, watching her trembling hands with his feiry eyes.

'Is something the matter? I hate for one of my own to be so...troubled...' Lifting one of her hands, he asked; 'Is there something about me you do not trust Lady Nafretiri? I am of no coven nor I am out to start any wars...' He paused. Not yet any way. 'But I am curious...You are of Amman, are you not? The one who turned me all those years ago was as well. Please do tell me if I am correct' His words were speaken clearly...yet he seemed some what lazy...with no need for urgency.

((OOC: That's sounds really cool! Can't wait to run a thread with 'em!))

When he took her hand, Nafretiri looked at him, her face frozen very much like a statue. One would have thought she was made of marble had her skin not looked soft, even without the mortal blood to replenish it. Her expression was blank, hiding all her thoughts and emotions that she was feeling right now.

"I am indeed of the Amman," murmured Nafretiri, breaking the spell, "and have been for the last half of my existance." She closed her eyes, frowning for a moment before revealing them once again, the frown lessened but not entirely gone. "It is not you that troubles me, it is myself. Recent developments disturb me. It is nothing you have done."

((OOC: Me neither... once I figure out who it's going to be. I've been thinking of making a journalist. She/he could cause some problems for the vampires. ^^))

~ Syaoran nodded. His feiry eyes now scanning the library. Perhaps there was something...No. He shook his head at himself. Why would there be? His clan was ancient....but still history. Perhaps...perhaps.

((OOC: Sorry...it's short...but it really needs a reply! ^^"""))

Nafretiri was slightly stunned when he turned away from her. It seemed that his attention for her was rapidly depleating. This mattered not to her. If he wished to go turn his attention to something else, that's fine with her. Still, his thoughts intrigued her. No, she hadn't meant to snoop, but his thoughts were a virtual bilboard. Still, she decided to help if she could.

"Is there something in particular that you're looking for?" she inquired, following his gaze before turning her attention once again to him.

~ Syaoran felt annoyance bubble in him, but hid his emotions.

'No.' He replied calmly, once again turning to face her. 'Forgive my rudeness.' It always got to him when someone looked into his thoughts, but he dismissed it...it was probably his fualt for making them so clear in the first place. But still...it ticked him off none-of-the-less. Not that he would ever show it. Now knowing that his thoughts were on display, Syaoran tucked them into the back of his head...he'll deal with that matter later. 'May I inquire of these...devolopements...or would that be probing? I wish not to seem like the type who would plant his nose in another's personal business...But I may be of some help.' He tilted his head to the side slightly...as if he were to look up to her...but that last comment did amuse him, but he was unlikely to show it. Hiding emotions was one of his best skills...

Inhaling quickly, though it was quite unneeded, Nafretiri looked at him slowly. Casting a look at her scrolls, she started to pile them up slowly, sending measured looks at the man next to her. Her hand started to tremble again, but she stopped it by clenching her fist. It would not do to show weakness in front of a stranger, and she had already done that.

"That would be probing," said Nafretiri quietly, avoiding his eyes. "Unless you understand the human psyche - or inhuman, as the case is - more than any other on the face of this planet, there is little you can do to assist me. I simply seem to be relapsing into my old way of doing things, and it is a way which I never dreamt I would return to."

~ Syaoran cast his gaze else where. The human psyche...he knew it well...he understood how much one person can take before they snap. Before those voices start whispering.

'I understand quite fully.' He replied, his voice colder than Winter its self. 'Before I was turned...I was pushed beyond what people would call their "emotional copassity". And I have been scarred mentally because of it.'

Hearing voices in your head would be classed as insanity. Voices that would tell you to do things you really shouldn't. He was pushed over the edge, over his cliff and into the sharp rocks below. Those little demons would for ever tuant him and critisize him...tell him to do wrong. But he had some how learnt to ignore them...Now they were just a little pestilence when he needed to think upon important matters. Still he wished he could be rid of them forever.

(Hope you two don't mind a playful Interuption.....) The door of the library fell inward off its hinges as a panther leapt into it, then turned, running down and aisle of books, a German Shepherd in quick pursuit of the big cat. If it were not for the uncanny ability that most vampires have to recognize the panther as one of their own kind, the sight may be particularly strange, as how many dogs could frighten a panther?

The two were playing. The dog was called Jerry Lee, and was the pet of the young shapechanging vampire named Catherine. They had chosen the location because the library was usually closed at night, and it would be unlikely that any humans would be nearby. Cathering pounced on the dog suddenly and they went tumbling back out into the open, the dog wagging its tail and the big cat obviously just as pleased with the playing.

~ Syaoran gave them a harsh glare. Now THIS was pestilence.

'What are you doing?' He muttered, not really expecting to be heard...his conversation with Nafretiri was important now...This was the last thing he needed. But the fact they had caused damage to his beloved library enraged him. Fuming, Syaoran stood...his eyes ablaze. Storming over, he picked up the black panther by the scruff of the neck, as if it were nothing more than a little kitten. 'Look at this mess.' He growled, his voice stern like a father's. 'I hope you're willing to pay for the damage, because I will not tolerate your irresponsable behaviour in a place such as this.' After his lecture, he realesed the panther and gave her one last glare, before returning to his sit. 'My apologies, Lady Nafretiri...I can not stand such ill-treatment on place as old as this...they seem like siblings to me.'

"There is no need to apologize," stated Nafretiri, staring warily at the others, "although I would hardly consider this place old. Then again, I have seen much, and much of it has been lost. The Library at Alexandria for example. Such a shame that it burned. It was quite devastating to the queen of that time, the famous Cleopatra."

She paused, remembering the dusky smell of scrolls that had survived time locked away in her mind. A great shame indeed.

She considered his thoughts. "I too was pushed passed my limit, though this was after I was turned." She stared at him for a long time, her dark eyes staring holes into him, trying to gauge something that was a mystery to everyone save herself. Finally, she continued: "While I have no doubt that you have had your trials, I do not think you can fully understand what it is I speak of, and this is meant with no insult to you. The things I speak of are horrors that have haunted me for my entire existance. You have no idea what I have done." The last part came out bitter and full of self-loathing and regret.

The panther slowly changed to a mostly human form. "I only broke the door... I was careful so that me and Jerry wouldn't hurt the books or computers...." She sounded almost like a frightened kitten, which wasn't a bad analogy, as most vampire still frightened her, as she had only been turned very recently. The dog however, didn't seem the least bit frightened, just defencive of its master. Jerry walked over and stood between Catherine and the other vampire, growling softly in a warning tone.

Catherine pulled the dog back, not wanting it to start a fight, growling softly at the dog, who imediately stopped and lay down.

~ Syaoran looked back at Nafretiri, an almost remorseful gleam in his unreadable eyes. Then he turned his attetion back to the other. Maybe he was just popular tonight...

'Still...be more thoughtful of these things...What if the librarian was to return to a damaged door? I would not be the one to cover for your damage expenses.' Again he turned to his company. 'And forgive my intrusion, Lady Nafretiri.' Silently, Syaoran stood and returned to his discarded book...his mind still on the question of books about his clan. He was still hoping...

Nafretiri watched the conversation between the two, not eager to join in. Her strength was nearly gone, having not fed in too many nights. Still, she carried herself like she had all the power she normally possessed. Besides the evidence her face provided, you would not know she was suffering, which was exactly what she had been going for.

Still, the elder vampire felt the need to say something. "It would be wise to think of these things before hand, young one. What if there had been cameras in here? They would have caught your transformation."

She shook her head, sighing, before looking at Syaoran. "It was no intrusion. I speak almost to no one. Company is nice once in a while." A small, almost invisible smile was given, and Nafretiri turned back to her scrolls. The hieroglyphs twisted and turned, so that the woman had to steady herself with the edge of the table, ready to give out a cry of frustration. A feed was what she needed, but she couldn't do that until she solved her mystery.

"I'm sorry... I'm still very very new to all of this... In fact... I think its only been about two weeks now. I had no real teacher, the one who turned me left me immediately to fend for myself. Most of the time I'm fairly careful... but I guess Jerry and I got a little out of hand." She glanced at the dog slightly, then back at the two vampires. She knew they were far older than her, which made her a touch nervous, but at the same time, it gave her hope that they were more understanding.

~ Syaoran shrugged.

'Just be more careful.' He murmured, now lost in his book again. The words wrapped them selves around his mind and shot images into his subconscience. Again, he thought, it was going to be a long night.