I know that I can find the fire in your eyes[Open]

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

Twilight was falling, the departing light casting shadows and a gray pallor over the street. Streetlighters were out, hastily lighting the streetlights in an attempt to be home before the full darkness hit. These were dangerous times to be out after the sun's final rays escaped over the horizon, and most people- those with any form of common sense, remained indoors, praying until the sun crept back over the horizon. Since this was the case, it was unusual to see a young woman walking down the streets at a leisurely pace. It was uncommon enough for a lady of wealth to wander unescorted- as this one was, but it was even more rare to see her on Harley Street, as the sun was setting.

Marieke was herself well-aware that she was breaking the curfew imposed upon her by her father. It wasn't as though she were merely being defiant, Marieke's occupation was one that lead her to be here at this time of the day. It was rather hard to slay a Vampire in full daylight, when they did their best to avoid the sun. Well, she supposed it was actually quite easily done, if she were the sort to enjoy killing her victims in their sleep. No, Marieke preferred to give her targets a fighting chance, though none had yet survived. It was why she charged so much to her clients- she was one of the best, and she preferred to be well compensated for her risk of life and limb. This was the reason that she demonstrated no fear as she continued her leisurely walk, an apple held loosely in one hand, a bite taken from it.

It wasn't as though she were hunting tonight; no, Marieke didn't hunt every night, at least not with the intention of making a kill by the end of the evening. Tonight she was merely stalking a target, wanting to know where he frequented, and the habits he held. That being said, should he attempt to feed from a person, or turn someone into a Vampire, Marieke would feel the need to intervene. It didn't happen often, but she had made a few kills on nights when she had intended to stalk only. A slow sigh escaped her lips as she passed 13 Harley Street. Something about the place made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. Marieke couldn't put her finger on it, but something shady was going on inside the building. It was supposedly a place looking for cures, asking for willing victims.

Marieke remembered that her father had been outraged when he'd read it in the newspaper one night, over their dinner. Something about luring people in, and asking them to willingly take on a disease. Personally, Marieke didn't care. If people were stupid enough to allow themselves to be infected, then they weren't doing much for the human race; not to mention, such a practice kept Marieke nicely in her mercenary service. For a high enough fee, she would kill any Vampire- even if it meant stealing into the heart of the Abbey itself. It was a place that most Slayers wouldn't even dream of entering. Then again, Marieke didn't count herself among the other Slayers. They did what they did because they thought it was fun, or because they believed Vampires to be monsters. Marieke knew otherwise.

No, she killed only for the survivors, because sometimes it was easier to live knowing that your loved one wasn't infected, knowing that they wouldn't be coming after you, knowing that you had done all that you could, and that your efforts had spared them a degrading life. Marieke understood, she understood quite well those feelings. And as she stood outside the house were supposedly a doctor was working on a cure, Marieke hoped that he would succeed, even if it meant she was out of a job.

[silverlynxcat]

ooc|| Hope you don't mind my joining in =3

The padding of footsteps on the pavement was hushed and quick but there was no click of heels of fine, exquisite footwear that signaled the wealthy or well off or even the slap of tattered hole covered shoes which seemed to be simply falling off the feet of the common ragamuffin who happened to owned them. No it was the muffled sound of bare feet on the smooth chilly stone pavement, the odd splash of a puddle and a gentle growl or mutter of complaint as the cold water gathered on the floor sloshed itself over pale and slightly dirty feet who happened upon it chilling the skin and causing a wave of goosebumps to flee over the now wet flesh. But the flow of steps didn't cease or falter, clearly heading somewhere of importance, to him at least.

The day had grown old and the daylight had been overpowered once again by the darkness and the moon now dominated the sky until the sun regained its strength to return once again. It illuminating the dark buildings of London with a bright, pale, pure light which gave the place a serene, calm aura, where it seemed impossible for such a beautiful time to be riddled with fear and apprehension, of danger, of the virus. It seemed unbelievable, impossible, but it was real and everyone knew it, that was probably the reason the streets were empty, deserted and abandoned and only the brave or stupid seemed to wander, only those who had a reason, only those who had no where else to go, no where to protect them, or those that were already infected.

The slender figure came to the mouth of Harley street, that is when the figure halted somewhat, the area was quiet and undisturbed, some nearby trees rustled their branches in play with the gentle yet chilly chilly breeze of the spring but the male didn't seem to flinch. Moonlight highlighted the sickly pale flesh of the being, far more pale than any mortal and even some vampires. It showed illness, yet the boy did not show weakness. He showed tiredness in the dark shadows beneath his eyes, in the way his eyes glistened with weariness yet still glistened with strength and defiance to fail and fall, he was close. To shelter and hopefully he would be greeted warmly or at least tolerated for tonight. His hunting had been unsuccessful leaving him hungry and weak.

The body itself was a strong one, he was tall and slender, yet not lanky, muscles smoothed and rounded his arms and legs, not overpowering his frame however. The muscle which decently indented his stomach in a gently defined six pack was hidden beneath a fine, white linen shirt. A rather scruffy brown belt held a pair of old black trousers to his slim hips, the material only reaching until his calf before it gave way to bare lower calf down to bare feet. Despite his ragged appearance, the boy held a certain 'beauty' around him. He was indeed a handsome young lad. Seemingly entering his adult years, hoisting smooth, high cheek bones and a strong masculine jaw, softened by the gentle curves which ceased in making the planes of his face harsh. He held a young look of maturity, his eyes glistened with life, picked out by the moonlight the deep pools of sapphire blue were rich and bright, but abnormal silver flecks pricked the blue, standing out and seemed to shine with a light of their own.

A hand lifted to his head, slim fingers of a thief ran through short tendrils of silver, silky and smooth, well cared for it seemed. Dark eyebrows furrowed and the figure began to move once again, down the street. He needed shelter for the daytime, although he could probably shift from shadow to shadow, it was now impossible for him to blend in during the day. The young American simply stood out too much. His scruffy appearance, his strong accent, his silver hair, the two sharp fangs which now reached half way to his chin,
Ah yes, this lad of eighteen was no ordinary boy, he was a vampire, yet even for a vampire he was unusual, his shockingly long fangs gave him away as a vampire. But a reluctant vampire. The length of his fangs proved he had not had blood for quite a period of time, and in all honesty, he'd never tasted blood, not since he'd been changed seven months ago.

Because of this denial to drink, his fangs had simply grown longer and longer, trying to coax him to drink, they were also a time line for him, for when they got to a certain length, they would grow no more and then, he would die. It was horrible thing to think, but when they reached past his chin he would simply be too weak, he was die. Already he was perishing in his refusal to hunt, refusal to kill and do anything of the sort. It sickened him and he knew nothing could be done. He was a stubborn boy, he believed nothing could heal him and he knew his time was coming, it scared him, it did. But his mind was on other matters.

His head raised as he spotted a woman standing not to far away, an apple in hand. His eyes were on the woman, then fell to the apple, keeping his gaze away from her neck. He lowered his head and kept on moving, she was near a house he wanted to enter. The on of a doctor finding a cure for the virus. A Doctor James Lancet. He stopped, seeing the woman was actually standing in front of said door he wanted to approach. Will mentally cursed, hesitating before he began to approach, albeit, reluctantly.

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

Dark brown eyes continued to take in the house, the softly lit rooms reminding her of her own home. A bit of regret filled her, and she wondered briefly what her father would be doing now. Had he realized her absence? Was he guessing where she was at this very moment? It was getting harder and harder to slip out of her own home, harder to hide her secrets, than it had been when she was younger. Her father was slightly pressuring her to make a match, and she knew that if she didn't soon, he would make one for her. That thought caused her to shiver, much in the same manner other young women of her station did when they thought about the infection. Marriage was not for her. Lazily she lifted her apple, taking another bite of it, and chewing slowly as she did. It would be her only meal tonight, and she wanted to make it last.

Despite the cold weather, Marieke was not cold. She had dressed warmly for the occasion of stalking her prey, and between her long woolen skirts, scarf, hat, and her father's old coat, she was quite warm. It was not her ordinary attire for her job, normally preferring to dress as a young boy because then she got noticed less. However, her clothes had been bloodied by gore in her last kill, and Marieke had decided that wearing a dress would draw less attention than blood-stained clothes. She had left them in the laundry, and instructed the maids not to touch the garments, as she would wash them herself. Another sigh escaped her lips, as the thought retured her to her father. She loved him dearly, but had never been able to confess to him the true reason behind her mother and sister's deaths. She wished that she could, but she didn't want to hurt him. It was getting harder to hide her career from him, because he was no longer excusing childish folly. She dreaded the day he discovered her pastime, but she knew that the day was drawing near.

Lost in her thoughts though she was, Marieke could still hear someone approaching her. To adapt for her own lack of strength or speed in the face of a Vampire, she had honed her other senses in on them, learning the peculiarities of a Vampire's gait, or the slightly bitter tang of dried blood that often followed them. Whoever was approaching her had neither of those signs, though she felt a prickling sensation across the back of her neck regardless. Waiting for another moment, she held her breath and let it go, before langourously turning to face whoever was approaching her. For a long moment she watched him, from his dirty bare feet all the way up to the elongated fangs, and silvery hair. This boy was a Vampire. Marieke didn't flinch, or make a move towards him. Maintaining the impassive look on her face was imperative- this boy had not fed for a long time. Just shy of nine months, she would wager. He was refusing his new nature.

That realization created some mixed feelings within Marieke. The first was a strong feeling of pride and affinity for this young man. For someone to fight off his own nature like that? It was phenomenal, and she was pleased that someone could do it. Her own mother had only lasted for two months, before she caved in to her lust for blood. For the better part of three years, she had survived on small animals, the ones that Marieke could smuggle in to her. The other feeling that this incited was one of apprehension. One could only deny oneself for so long before one snapped. This boy was a loose wire, a fickle thing. The scent of blood in the air could set him off. But it might not. Marieke was not used to indecision, but it was railing at her right now.

She certainly wasn't going to fight the boy. He had done nothing wrong, it seemed, past being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not to mention, Marieke had a strong sense of fairness, and he was in no condition to fight, not unless he entered a blood lust, and she certainly wasn't going to antagonize him on a street full of homes in which lived innocent people. Her only option, it seemed, was to see what she could do to help him, and if he attacked her or someone else, she would be forced to remove him as a threat, by which she always meant that she would be forced to kill him. For once, she hoped that he didn't bring them to that point. Fixing a slow smile on her face, she decided to greet him.
"Hello."

[silverlynxcat]

The male was wary of approaching the female and he risked a glance upwards towards her. He tried to keep his gaze down but his curiosity caused his gaze to wander. His eyes lifted from her feet, up to her face and quickly looked back away as if he was a shy boy with a crush. But he did not know what offended English females, what was considered rude and insulting. And he most definitely did not want to cause a scene, it was attention he most certainly didn't want.

He skittered closer, taking in the fact she was young, attractive and that she was also alone. A frown drew across the man's pale lips, wondering why a female was out so late at such a dangerous times as well as without company, she was surely an easy target for the more...vamparic vampires that lurked through London. Her usual past time did not seem so obvious in her feminine wear, she looked like many of the women you saw walking the streets in the day time, dainty and pretty, something to cherish as something so fragile looking could so surely break.

His eyes fell on the coat, it was quite clearly that for a man, and it was curious to why this woman would have it, he knew that it wasn't normal for women who could afford such pretty dresses and care for themselves so well to dress in anything other than extravagant pretty clothes. Will in truth didn't really care, the way he'd grown up and the things he'd gone through had proven that not everyone was the same and had the same preferences. People done things their way and not always if ever, somebody else's way. This female seemed no different, she seemed quite content and at ease simply standing there, simply consuming the apple held in her hand bite by bite. His eye fell on the apple again before looking away, not wanting to tempt himself to steal it. He was a mere few feet from Dr.Lancet's house, surely he would spare some food?

Just as he was about to pass by the female, her voice which broke the silence caught him by surprise and dragged him back from his mindless musings and observations. He sharply drew back to put a few feet between them, clearly startled by the woman's acknowledgement of him. Usually whenever he should walk past, a mere street boy, no one would cast him a glance let alone speak to him. Obviously he wasn't used to a stranger simply talking to him out of the blue.
After what he felt was a safe distance he tentatively raised his head, he had no way to hide his fangs from her and he was afraid she would scream, or provoke him in some way. Or worse that she may be a slayer.

Will had never met a slayer first hand, but he knew what they done and the ways they done it and they scared him like they did every sane vampire.
"H-hello, ma'am" he greeted her in response a small formal bow of sorts to accompany it, his american accent strong and distinguished. His eyes lowered to the floor again so it didn't seem he was staring in all, he seemed uncomfortable in company, it was something he was not used to.

"Are you a slayer?" he asked uncertainly, if this women wasn't, she would probably click on to the fact he was a vampire or have no clue what he was on about. But the fangs pretty much gave it away anyway and he probably had enough energy in him to flee if he had to.

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

She seemed to have spooked the boy, and as her spare arm curled around her waist, she took a chance to look at him more closely. As her first thought had been, she concluded that this boy was no threat to her. He was thin and pale, clearly from a lack of blood. His fangs were long and large, a condition she had only seen twice before, in Vampires that refused to consume blood. In his eyes, she saw no malice, only a deep sadness, and a clear fear. Fear of what? Of her? Marieke knew for a fact that in this attire she didn't look at all like a Slayer, though she was with her emergency wooden stake hidden well within her skirts. There was something about this boy, though, that made her want to wrap him in her arms, and soothe him; an action she knew would not be well-received. It wasn't as though he reminded her of her brother- he was a bit too old for that. It was more along the lines that she wished her brother could have grown into an attractive young man like this one. Without the Infection, of course.

Marieke took in his tattered clothes, and stifled the urge to give him her father's coat. Instead, she followed his gaze- to her apple. Pity for the young Vampire welled within. It wasn't the first time that she'd felt sorry for a Vampire, it wasn't at all the first time she'd wished that those like Doctor Lancet were right, that there was a cure for this...disease as they'd named it. For the sake of boys like this, who were killing themselves rather than consume blood, she prayed that they were. Slowly she felt her feature soften, startled by this strange compulsion to help this boy. She didn't slay Vampires for the sake of it, after all. Only for the protection of those who had asked it, and in his condition the young man wasn't likely to hurt anyone, unless he backed down on his morals and gave in to his body's inclination to feed. His fixation on her apple filled her with a sort of hope for him however, and she slowly held it out to him, wishing that he would come closer.

"You look hungry." She observed aloud, keeping her voice hushed and soothing as she would with a spooked animal. Her wrist arched out, offering him the fruit, and watching him with clever eyes. "You can have the apple, though it won't save you. It might stave off the hunger pains for awhile. You need blood, or you're going to die." It was a stark thing to say to a street urchin you had just met, but for some reason she wanted very much for this boy to live. She smiled slightly, a lopsided sort of thing. "Animal blood will keep you alive, though it doesn't sate you as well. Rats would be good, there's plenty of them, and you can slit their throats and pour the blood into a glass. It's better than nothing at all. If you don't have a knife or cup, I can find you one." She was avoiding answering his question, though she knew he wouldn't trust her until she'd answered. Not that he would trust her at all when she revealed her occupation to him.

"Am I a Slayer?" She paused, looking up at the darkened sky before lowering her gaze to his once more. "Of sorts. Only for hire, and only to threats. You have no need to fear me, boy, I'm not going to hurt you. You don't look as though you've fed in a very long time, so clearly you're no threat to myself or others- at least not unless you go into bloodlust. No one has hired me to hunt you- I am a Slayer, but not one without compassion." Despite her hatred of Vampires, Marieke could recognize that some were just as much a victim as those killed by Vampires. Her instincts were telling her that this boy was one of them, and she wanted to get him help. Perhaps Doctor Lancet would know what the boy could do, or where he could go.
"Were you on your way to see Dr. Lancet, then?"

[silverlynxcat]

The young male shuffled a bit nervously beneath the female's wandering gaze. The male still held strength of course. Will had found there were sort of like two sides to him. The vampire traits which dominated and the submissive traits of his remaining mortal. Many months ago, when he'd first refused to drink, food would have settled the nips of hunger in his belly, when he grew weaker, there was still strength. The food which he ate replenished his weaker human strength, keeping his body moving. But the draw back had been he was no longer as fast, no longer as strong and the blood cravings grew. But Will had somehow always managed to fight them off, consuming food when it was most important, when he was about to lose control. He shut himself away from humans until the very latest of hours when he was sure no one would be around other than the vampires who hunted and the foolish humans which mulled through the streets like prey. Or the other predators, the slayers.

The boy had not eaten in a while however, his attempts to snaffle some food had gone unsuccessful and he was desperate for something to soothe at least one of the hungry aches which fought inside him and made him cringe and rub his stomach in a helpless manner, that he couldn't even settle the war within his own body. The mental and the physical, his mortal morals waging a bloody battle against his vampire instincts to hunt. His eyes flickered upwards suddenly at the female's arm which extended towards him, he skittered somewhat nervously as she held the apple towards him. He eyed the partly eaten fruit, but he had grown to relish whatever edible item he was given, food, after all, was food, and a fresh apple suited him much better than rooting around in bins.

At first, he didn't approach, as was probably expected, he was still weary, and the woman's word's startled him somewhat, she was giving him...advice? Despite his urge to tell her she didn't know anything, he remained quiet and inquisitive. He didn't want to make such a stupid move and make her an enemy. He was tired and hungry and he didn't want to make a silly move when he was not thinking straight, but still her ideas didn't appeal to him,
"I don't want to kill anything or anyone" he confessed, shaking his head lightly, his voice slightly raspy but it was gentle and it showed great promise to be a very loving, warm voice had it a bit more care, used more often and given the correct dosage of liquid. But he admitted to himself, he felt thankful that someone seemed inclined to help him, that not everyone in London was stuck up and left the poor, homeless people to themselves.
However at the admission to being a slayer Will drew another foot back, eyes widening slightly to look at her, as if she were to draw a stake at any moment. He paused however, not fleeing just yet as he waited, listening further. She wasn't going to kill him? Well, what she spoke was true; Will in no way would be a threat to anyone but a human, those who of course were not up to the young woman's standards. He was weak, but not helpless, he was slow, but not out of the race, and in truth, even for a human, he was still pretty goddamn fast.

It seemed the thought of food had finally won him over, and as he knew she was a slayer, he decided that even if she was to kill him, and he didn't know if she would, it was a win win situation. He would no longer have to deal with this torture and if she let him live. He could probably live long enough for a cure to be found, if one ever would, or he could at least hunt down the vampire which had so cruelly bitten him and changed his life. He took a few slow steps forward, reached out and gently took the apple from her grip; he held it in both hands looked down at it before he slowly began to nibble at it. It seemed a rather difficult task. With his fangs as long as they were, there was no way he would managed to bite into it. He closed his eyes as he swiftly made his way through the apple. He seemed far too happy to have something to eat than to use Marieke's method and make it last. Finally he licked some juice from his lips, barely left with even the core, taking all he could get from the fruit and seemed a bit more at ease.

"Were you on your way to see Dr. Lancet, then?"

The male paused, looking at the door before he nodded. But he bowed his head, now thinking over what he'd intended to do, it now seemed like an incredibly rude thing to do, to simply go up to the man's house, the man's met once before and ask if he could sparet somehing to eat. The male cringed, now thinking against.

"Who are you?" he questioned.

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

The boy, it seemed, held morals beyond reproach- beyond even her own, and for a moment her long-forgotten conscience rushed back with a vengeance, filling Marieke with an odd sort of grief. She had killed- Mortal and Vampire alike over the last years. It had been so long since she had made her first kill, that Marieke doubted she knew how to live without violence anymore. If she did end up losing her profession as a slayer, she would probably have to find a career as an assasin. There was little else that she could do. She looked away from those eyes, filled with a righteous conviction that she had relinquished long ago, as a child who had sworn to kill her own uncle.

But now was not the time for regret. Yes, she had killed many...but perhaps she could save one. Her shrewd eyes took in the boy before her. What he needed was a donor, someone who would give a portion of their blood to keep a Vampire alive, while still sparing themselves death or Vampirism itself. Watching him take her apple and consume it, she was moved with pity. He fought to stay one hunger in hopes that it would keep the other in check. She couldn't promise that she would do so regularly, but perhaps it was time to shed her own blood? To right some wrongs? No. She might pity one of those night creatures, might want to see one with such a good nature survive, but she would never use her own blood to keep one alive. That was asking too much of her, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. However, she had a house on Octavia Street, her own, purchased with the money she earned as a Slayer. There, the boy could find shelter while she quietly sought a donor for him.

Yet, what could she do that the infamous Dr. James Lancet couldn't do? Nothing, that was the answer to that. He was a sanguine specialist, and sheltered Vampires from the rest of the world. Everyone knew it, and a few in the Slayer circle whispered that the man was a Vampire himself. Marieke wasn't so certain- she tended not to believe half of what that community said. After all, she held contempt for most of them, and preferred to keep her own counsel. She was lost in her own thoughts, and realized that she had left the boy hanging.
"You have to feed, or you'll die, didn't you hear me say that already, boy?"

Marieke's voice was as gruff as it always was when she was away from her father, but it held a softness that bordered on fondness. This boy had struck some sort of chord within her, earned some small measure of her respect. But then, he asked for her identity, and she stopped, her gaze flying sharply to his. If she told him, odds were that he wouldn't trust her. She had never missed a kill, had more kills under her belt that two-thirds of the Slayers in England. Marieke had a reputation in the Vampiric community, and if she told him, chances were he would think her future proposal to stay in her house was only an attempt to kill him. However, he had earned some respect, and that demanded honesty.
"Marieke."

It was the only name she ever gave on the job.

[silverlynxcat]

The male fiddled with the core that had been left out of habit, he disliked being still for long and often on occasion if he ad something to had, he would fiddle with it, but this time he chuckled it into a nearby drain, the rats could have it, everyone one and the rats, that way would not have to venture up into the streets where they could fall victims to humans, cats, cars and vampires too. He was momentarily distracted a small absent smile on his face, clearly with that simple scrap of food his mind had been momentarily taken off of the hardship which had been thrust upon him as his mind wandered briefly until the woman brought him back to reality,

His gaze lifted, head cocked lightly to the side in a quizzical manner, A frown tugged his lips.
"But if I do feed, won't I stand a better chance of meeting death anyway?" he pointed out. "If I make a kill, I'll be hunted" he reminded. She as a slayer should have been the first to think of such a thing. "Besides, I won't be much of a fight will I? Even at full strength I know nothing of vampires, I was thrown into this way of life with help, without a teacher because I sought to kill him for what he done to me" he let this information out, just to explain to her, let her truly see the situation he was in, the difficult struggles that were daily situations for him. But he did not speak with impatience. His voice was soft and reasoning, fond of the fact he had company again, and that this slayer (as far as he could tell) was not out to kill him. For he knew he'd done nothing wrong, he had not killed, he'd not fed, but he'd been turned, infected. And for some slayers, that was enough that in itself was a crime, a death sentence.

The boy himself had always thought of a way to make things easier for him, where he didn't need to kill and he needn't be hunted. But who would offer up blood to a vampire for nothing in return? Especially to a lost, American street urchin who'd stumbled into the foreign British land? He doubted anyone would, he couldn't offer money not much else. He rubbed his arm uncertainly; it wasn't too cold to night, so he was thankful for at least that.
However, he knew he'd struck a tight note when he requested her name, the way her gaze lifted sharply it took quite a bit of force not to flinch, he tried to look as innocent as possible, he meant no harm by it, but merely requested a name to call her by. Will in truth had never been around another vampire, other than one. He done his best to avoid others, the ones who accepted themselves and freely killed, especially those who thought it 'fun' to kill so freely, as if it were a sport.

But even Will had heard some whisper of names to fear. This woman's name had been one. But he was either naive, too trusting or had powerful instincts, for as soon as she gifted him with her name, he did not turn tail and flee. He instead gave a small smile, still seemingly shy in the new company and offered his name in response.

"My name's Will, Will Fleet" he replied. Reassured by the tone, a gentle tone in her voice that he'd not heard for a very long time. It seemed like the slightest hint of care.

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

She refused to let this boy die. It would seem that she had found something that could outweigh her hatred, outweigh her natural and instinctive loathing for these creatures of the night. She would never have suspected it to result from a ragged-looking vampiric street urchin, but there it was. This boy was dredging up an instinct deeper than hate, deeper than anything she had ever before known. Marieke watched him for the longest time, unable to look away from that face that held such moral tenacity, that held such hope, such....longing. She wasn't sure what it was for, but she found herself forming an attachment to this boy, whoever he was. Bless him, he was the first person she had met in a long time who hadn't reacted to her name. Will, for that was his name, hadn't connected her with money, or fear, or the urge to run....and that smile.

It occured to her then, that Will wasn't the only one who held some form of longing within himself. She, too, wanted something that no one had been able to provide in a long time. How long had it been since someone had smiled at her, barring her father? How long had it been since someone had trusted her, not because she was their daughter, or for the coin she took, but for herself? Something about this boy, and his mannerisms, was drawing her in, and she didn't want it to stop. Slowly, Marieke smiled in return, allowing the softness to touch her lips until she was smiling warmly at Will. She hadn't smiled like this in years, and it was all she could do to keep from sweeping the boy into her arms and hug him in her joy.

"Well met, Will Fleet." She licked her lips, uncertain as to how she would manage to ease Will's shyness and uncertainty to accept her next proposal. It was one that stunned even herself, for she had never been moved by this. It was something that her instinct, her dying morals, her dying compassion was screaming at her. She couldn't save everyone, not by a long shot. She hadn't been able to save her brother, her mother, her sister, or countless others infected by a disease that was rapidly spreading. All she could do was to cut down those who posed a threat to others- until now. Now, she had a chance to amend for those things that she had done, that she knew she must continue to do.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" She could start by offering him shelter, and warm clothing- food more than an apple. Marieke was still balking at what her conscience wanted her to do. She had never before offered something as personal as her own blood to anyone before, and she was afraid to do so now. Had she known then what she knew now, she could have saved her mother and sister by offering her own blood, but she hadn't. With that thought in mind, she turned her focus back to the boy whose fangs were so long he couldn't even bite into human food. Another month, perhaps three, and Will Fleet would perish. She could do something, and she determined to offer him her blood, as a donor, in return for friendship. For Marieke was dying, too. Dying of loneliness.

[silverlynxcat]

Will when he'd started out his way to Lancet, had not expected these events to occur, not expected to come across a lone woman in the street, not expected her to offer food to him and admit that she was a slayer. He hadn't event expected himself to stand around and converse with her knowing that she could kill him just like that. He hadn't expected to feel comfortable in this woman's company, when Marieke's name sent fear through the vampire's who heard or dared utter her name, and a few rare slayers were so well known to cause such a motion.

He tilted his head lightly, enjoying the way she smiled, it made her features soften and she looked younger, she looked more warm and approachable when her eyes didn't shine with weariness and the predatory gleam of the hunter. His gaze lowered a little, Will, so unused to company, was rather shy, uncertain, only at first, he showed promise as a good companion.

He raised his head against some time to look back at Marieke seeing she was still watching him, and he spotted the look of thought linger in her eyes, she seemed to be thinking, or waging her own mental war. He was curious over what exactly was causing this disruption, he refused to think that one of them may be whether to actually kill him or not, he hoped that wasn't the case as he shifted a little at the silence, never liking to interrupt someone as they thought,

But most certainly of this night, he had not expected a well renowned slayer to question if he needed shelter for the night, Was she possibly considering to offer him a place to stay? Even for the a single night Will was relieved, even if made to sleep on the floor he would be thrilled with simply that, sleeping in alleys, crypts and other unpleasant placed did not bode well with the male but it wasn't often he complained, for the fact he had no one to complain to,

"I...w-well, yes, I suppose" he murmured, unsure if he should impose upon the female, he never liked to cause a nuisance of himself, not all the time at least. So he wondered if the female was offering her own home, he didn't want to just to conclusions on whether he'd be sleeping in a shed or an extravagant house, (And really any sort of house was rather extravagant to him), he did not want to seem desperate. Despite the fact that spring was not the best season to be sleeping outside. Will had already fell ill several times, luckily it had been nothing but the flu, the strength of the virus strengthened his defence system at the time, when he hadn't been weak from the lack of blood.

[Marieke DiGeorgio]

He looked so unnerved, so uncertain, that Marieke felt her heart melt a little, and she made up her mind. Sometimes, the right thing was the one thing in the world that you felt you just couldn't do. She would simply have to bite the bullet, and find a way that was healthy, to give her blood to this boy- he looked as though a stiff wind would knock him over. Slowly, Marieke smiled once more, before holding out her hand.
"I own a house on Octavia Street, number seven Octavia Street. Go there when you're ready, and my housekeeper will ready a room for you." She took a necklace from 'round her neck, slowly handing it to him. "By this, she will know that you have my favor. If I am there, I will see to you myself."

She held it out, letting the locket dangle from her fingertips. It had been a gift from her mother, years and years ago. It was something that never left her, and for the Italian maid who had become her Housekeeper. it would mean something special. The woman had been with Marieke since she was a child, and new exactly who had what she was. She would welcome a young boy to mother, as Marieke had expressed her own desire to no longer be treated as such. Her brown eyes regarded the young man, thinking that it would actually be nice to have someone to come home to. A companion, so to speak.

(Ohmigosh, this is the suckiest post of. my. life. So sorry!)

[silverlynxcat]

The male's arms folded across his chest of his slim, undernourished body to try and fight off the worst of the chilly spring time air. A few unkempt strands of silver swept down and tickled rebelliously against his pale cheeks which looked like they hadn't had contact with warm soapy water in quite some time. It wasn't as if he was covered in mud, but his beautifully pale, silky porcelain like complexion that vampires were known for was hidden away beneath a very fine layer of dust and dirt which could not be noticed unless compared to a freshly cleaned Will.

His eyes lifted as the female smiled and spoke, more reassured, the more warm tone and that caring expression eased him and the knowledge of her being a slayer simply seemed to be forgotten, or shunted to the back of his mind.
His eyes widened like dinner plates as she extended her hand and let the locket dangle expectantly to be taken. Of course, the boy didn't reach for it right away, he admired the way the warm orange glow of the street lamps reflected the shiny metal surface before reaching out and ever so delicately wound his finger around the chain and took it into his own possession. Lying the locket in the palm of his hand he touched it as if it were a fragile flower.

This wasn't something he had stolen, he'd been given this. It was literally his token to salvation, and while it was in his brief care he would take good care of it until he felt desperately in need of shelter, somewhere to hide, then he would make his way to number seven Octavia street.
"Th-thank you" he murmured, raising his gaze to her, silver flecks within the sapphire seemed to glint with renewed spirit. "I'll take care of it" he promised, knowing he should not part this locket from it's owner to long, but wanted to reassure her it was in safe hands.


(( It's fine, I'm just happy I get to rp with someone! )