Back from her family visit, Clara had begun to shift back into work mode, at her actual paying job and the things she could do within the Tenebrae to help out, to be more prepared for the next mission she’s sent out, even if she wonders when that will be. It might be a lot longer than she expects, a slight punishment on Mitchell’s end or maybe until he feels he can trust her on her own. She can do better. Of course, she can do better. All she needs is to prove it.
Laptop hugged close to her chest, Clara creeps upstairs quietly, less for reasons of stealth and more because she doesn’t know where Mitchell is and doesn’t want to disturb him. A new mission had come up, but she isn’t entirely sure if he had already left yet for it. But she has something she wants to show him, one of her own ideas. Heading for the library, because maybe he’s prepping for the mission in there, her eyes focus on another figure walking towards her and a bright smile pulls at her lips when she finds it’s Melissa.
"Hello," she greets in her high, sing-song voice, hugging the laptop closer to wave a hand towards the other woman living in the house.
"Oh, Clara." Melissa exhaled the other woman’s name and shook her head. She hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath, and as the air came rushing back into her lungs, her gaze fell away to the laptop in Clara’s arms. Melissa wasn’t too familiar with who and what Clara was, but it was well known that she was perhaps one of the most normal people in the house. She’d caught glimpses of the small red headed woman around the house every now and again and she always seemed to have a smile and kind word for whoever would listen. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Melissa had never gone out of her way to seek out the other woman for conversation?
Melissa grimaced then, running her hand along brow line. “Sorry you startled me a bit.” She admitted uneasily, her gaze shifting from Clara’s computer back to her small face. She was a pretty little thing, a thought that made Melissa tilt her head some, her lips thinning as she attempted to at least make an effort to smile. The gesture was short lived however and the more Melissa stood there the more uneasy she felt under the other woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry to ask this, and I really hope this doesn’t sound…idiotic of me, but you wouldn’t happen to tell me how to get back down to the library would you?”
The witch almost regretted the question as it slid from her lips, but it was better than spending countless hours aimlessly running around lost. She gestured in the air with her hands and shrugged her shoulders then, “I’m not really all too familiar with this area of the house yet so I kind of may have taken a wrong turn…at some point…3 turns ago?”
He was aware of the presence of someone else here, but it wasn’t anything he thought much on. If they thought he was supposed to be somewhere else, he’d sure they’d tell him as much, and until then he’d do what he pleased. It’s what she actually says that catches him a little off guard, because there’s apparently more concern for the drink he brought in with him than the door in front of him. It’s a curiosity, and he glances back briefly to study the woman speaking to him. Not quite what he pictured, but he’s aware that the Eastons aren’t the be-all end-all when it comes to hunters.
"Sorry. Can’t read." He makes a gesture at his chest with the beer before he takes another swallow, the words obvious bullshit. He doesn’t try and pretend they’re anything else, or to hide the vague amusement he feels at the words. He finds it all a little bit funnier than he should, more because it all still feels like a game to him.
He nods his head at the words, watching her walk across the room towards him. “I’m sure you would.” He agrees with that much easily before he holds up the bottle. The next words are bullshit too, but if she doesn’t know that already then she doesn’t need to. “But whereas this beer can get me nice and buzzed, I’m not really sure what your appreciation gets me.”
"Can’t read?" Melissa tilts her head and almost laughs. Even as naive as she typically could be, even she could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Either way the woman plays along, smiling through gritted teeth while folding her arms across her chest, her glasses dangling from the one hand. "Oh well in that case, then I guess you have no reason to be wondering what’s beyond that door, now do you? Or do you just tend to make a habit going around staring curiously at doors that are quite obviously locked?" The witch moves then towards the door, her hand hovering about an inch above the wood which was now emitting a low humming sound at the nearness of her skin. "Locked. Warded. Probably cursed too." She added with a shrug, the last bit more for fun than sincerity.
"I would say, all in all, this door right here will get you about as much as my appreciation, so really, I don’t think there’s any harm in asking just why you seem so interested in it to begin with?" There’s a dark undertone to her voice, something heavily enunciated by the drawl of her accent, but even more so is the glint in her eyes. A dark shadow of curiosity, of wariness. Melissa wasn’t quite sure what it was about this man but he made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as a shiver coursed it’s way down her spine. She didn’t like him, and she didn’t like the way he had been looking at that door. And that was saying something seeing as how she was typically a person who tried to give everyone the benefit of a doubt.
"So?" Melissa cocked her head to the side as she spoke. "I’ll ask you again, is there anything I can help you with?"
So far, Dom had been allowed freer reign than he’d really expected. Granted, his expectations weren’t many, because for everything he was and everything he’d seen, this was somewhat unfamiliar territory. There was no consideration that he was considered part of the Tenebrae now, doubted even little brother was. A weapon, he thought was the best summation of it, Dexter’s weapon to be more specific, one prone to misfiring if they wanted honesty.
He doubted any of them did, and if that was the case they’d be sorely disappointed. There was no great list of things he wanted to accomplish, but the quiet desire to leave horror and pain his wake was a constant, one he made no apologies for. And the thought of destroying something like the Tenebrae from the inside out was too great a thought to ignore.
He stood in the library with a beer in hand, and he didn’t know or care whose it was. He didn’t care that he didn’t get drunk, that he had no real sense of taste. It was part of the illusion, that he was human, that he was still Dominic Easton, and not the thing that had taken control of his corpse. In front of him was a locked door, and he could feel the heat of wards burned into it even without seeing them. All it did was make him wonder just what was on the other side.
"Can I help you?" Melissa’s voice came out of nowhere, drifting across the room to where the man stood staring at the door in a part of the library that she knew to be off limits to almost everybody. The woman hadn’t even realized that there was anyone else in the room until her gaze had lifted from where she was, half way up a ladder not far from where the man was standing, a stack of books carefully balanced in one arm as the other clung to the ladder. She was leaning somewhat at this point, her gaze narrowed behind the thick black glasses that sat perched on the bridge of her nose. Another new face, something that didn’t surprise the woman, but after she had come in one morning and found a pile of books drowned in liquor, she could have sworn that she had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t approve of anybody drinking in the library. Not anymore.
Clearing her voice, she shook her head, and evened herself with the ladder, careful with each step as she started her descent downwards, landing at last with a loud thud of her boots as she skipped the last few steps. “Didn’t you see the sign?” She called out to him again, not even bothering to look at him as she dumped off the pile of books in her arms onto a nearby table, the muscles along her jaw rippling in annoyance. “You’re obviously new and all so I understand whatever sort of confusion you might have in regards to the rules around here, but in the future…” Melissa lifted her hazel gaze then to him, pulling the glasses from her face as she moved across the room towards him. “…I would greatly appreciate it if you kept your drinking away from this general vicinity of the manor.”
Melissa was losing count of the days. It was something that she’d found herself doing not long after the incident back in Roanoke. Counting the days she spent in a particular place because no matter how far the numbers could inevitably stretch, they were still limited. It was also getting harder for her to pretend like she was normal in a house filled with the most abnormal of people. Every day she felt like she was meeting someone new, and as such she had found herself wandering more and more about the house measuring it’s expansiveness with great detail. She wondered how it was that this house, which seemed so small on the outside, was in reality so much bigger on the inside. It was a conundrum of which Melissa had become enticed with, because it distracted her from whatever problems she herself was currently facing.
Like her magic spilling out at night when she slept. She still hadn’t found anything remotely useful even within the expansive collections that the library housed. It was another conundrum, but one that made the woman anxious and uneasy. She’d thought a few times about discussing it with Sebastian, but that was the worst part of it all, the fear of what would happen if she lost control. There was no easy way of saying aloud something that could easily enough become your death sentence, and instead she remained silent. Lining her room each night with protective barriers so that in the event that things got too out of control, at least this time things would remain in her room rather than spreading off to some unknown part of the house as they had the first time things had really gotten bad.
That was another reason why she wandered the house the way she was doing so now, her arms folded across her chest as she peered around corner after corner, searching. She’d never found the second fire that night after Billie had burst into her room to discover her bed sheets ruined with soot and smoke. And since nobody had said anything aloud, she figured they were either keeping it secret, or nobody had found it to begin with. Either way the ratio ran, the odds weren’t particularly in her favor. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more nervous it made her. Maybe that was why she craved the idea of knowledge the way she did, because the fear of the unknown was so deafening?
Running a hand through her hair as she rounded another corner, stopping dead in her tracks, Melissa sighed heavily and bit at her bottom lip. She’d passed by this same window more than once now and while she wasn’t one who typically believed in the idea of being lost, at this point she was becoming more and more open to the idea. She was on the second floor that much was certain, but after having wound her way thru and around so many different turns and dead ends, the witch had lost track of where she was coming and going from. Which was troubling because usually she was so attentive to things like that, the detail of things. An idea that only made the woman shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway behind her. She turned, gaze narrowed, eyes squinted and pursed her lips together as the figure came closer but having left her glasses in the library she couldn’t tell who it was just yet. Not unless they moved closer, which left her standing there staring, unsure what else to do aside from that.
"Right." He confirms rather simply, having thought that she’d meant to leave him to pack and wasn’t really sure he was up to playing twenty questions. Either way, it’s a fortunate enough beginning to assume that she won’t intrude beyond this, so the brunet supplies the best brand of reassuring smiles he can muster up. Exuding nonchalance without trying, it’s likely that he comes off as casual and pleasant, though he would hope nothing like disinterest would cross her mind. Simpler expressions and gestures are ones he has to over think when it comes down to public interaction. Unfortunate as it may be, he’s just not well-versed in extroversion as much as he’d like to be. His time in New Orleans wasn’t necessarily short, but it didn’t fill any initial voids that already existed… and now, he’s at a bit of a loss.
"Nah, I don’t mind." It’s important that he offers open-mindedness toward questions like these. Looking reclusive or as though there are secrets he’d like to keep from other tenants is bound to result in unhappy results for himself and several others, so he waves a flippant hand. All about genuine responses and giving little things your full attention, he doesn’t wait before thinking back and shooting for a reply. "Most recent move was New Orleans." Definitely a few more hours than his place of birth, but with a few better memories. For him, gauging which place fostered better behavior and a healthier environment is hard, and if you were to ask, he’s not sure he’d have a very complete answer. "How ‘bout you? You from around here?"
"New Orleans?" It made sense in a stereotypical way with him being a Hoodooist, and Melissa shifted nodding her head. "I’ve only been there once, back before I moved here. I moved from Virginia, but initially I’m from Liverpool…England." She added as an after thought. "I grew up in Virginia though so I suppose it would be easier to just to say that I’m from there." Melissa’s lips twitched with a small smile as she thought about her home. It hadn’t always been bad, and while she didn’t necessarily have the fondest of memories, there were a few of the good one’s that outweighed the bad. The small country house that had been her childhood home, the expanse of gardens that surrounded it. It all seemed like such a long time ago, and entirely different life time ago.
Melissa inhaled a deep breath and smiled weakly. “The weather here takes some getting used too.” She spoke then, rambling as always when she wasn’t sure what to say. “Or I suppose it’s just the elevation. It feels like it rains here a lot, or maybe I’m the only one who’s noticed. It’s not all bad though. The gardens here are particularly nice, lush and green. And then there’s my area of expertise the library.” Melissa’s smile widened with fondness then, her grip on the book lessening as she relaxed some. “You should stop by some time, if you’re ever interested. Or bored. I promise it’s not as scary as what a lot of people would perceive it to be.”
"I’m positive." Daniel reassures her, following the words up with a smile and a nod of his head. "Believe it or not, I actually like it when people talk…and I like to listen. Turns out it’s really helpful to those in our kinda business." That’s something he came to learn while in therapy when the therapist insisted he’d just listen to anything the man had to say. And it did. Talking through his problems, talking about Sophie and Joseph, talking about himself, it all helped relieve the guilt he felt for not being able to protect them like he swore the day his son was born. You ask him and he’ll say anybody who’s a hunter should go through some sort of counseling. Anyone who says they’re alright, that they are managing just fine without help, are lying right through their teeth. It’s not healthy to carry that weight. No one should go through it alone, but hunters are hard-asses, that’s just how it is.
When she asks if he started out hunting bears he snorts, shaking his head. Vampires and werewolves he can go up against, but bears? There’s just something about them that truly creeps him out; their beady eyes, they way they can stand on their hind legs. It’s funny really, leave it to a simple wildlife creature to make Daniel go running off in the opposite direction out of all the things he’d seen and faced. ”Actually no,” Clearing his throat upon answering, Daniel shifts his weight from one foot to the other and rubs at the nape of his neck. Like his therapist said and him a moment it ago, talking truly does its wonders. “I was in therapy the last couple years and my therapist insisted I take up a hobby. Archery happened to be the one.” Getting choked on the last few words really surprised him, and he wonders if talking to someone other than Garry, his therapist, had been a bad idea. Directing the attention back to her other question, Daniel swallows hard and looks down at the bow case.
"As for being common, I’m not to sure about that." He shrugs, debating whether to get another cigarette or not. "It’s held in the Olympics sometimes. And people hunt with bows, so I’m assumin’ it’s not rare." It’s hard to answer, really. Not many people he has come across seemed particularly interested in using a bow and arrow. The words are the best answer she can get out him, but he wishes there were more he could offer her, so when she answered his question of what she is, he nods. A witch. She had been living in the manor before him, she must be pretty damn powerful to have caught the eye of the Tenebrae.
"Human." Daniel says as he is quickly overcome with the urge to have more nicotine in his system. He’s quick in opening the case, retrieving another cigarette from the pack, and lighting it up. Closing the case once again, the smoke settles in his lungs before he speaks. "I’m a hunter born and raised."
"Talking can also be a dangerous feat." Melissa responded without thinking, pausing for the briefest of seconds before continuing in explanation. "In our kind of business, I mean. Sometimes there are things that are best left unsaid, don’t you think?" She swallows the lump that had been building in her throat and looks away. What she really meant was that there were bound to be somethings that he wasn’t going to want to hear, but would he hear them anyway? They all had files there, all of those files to some degree held secrets, especially hers. It was all more or less a guessing game in the house with her, seeing as where she came from she was always wondering just who else beneath the roof came from backgrounds stained with blood. Maybe that was why she was always asking so many questions, the true fuel behind her never ending curiosity with the others.
At the mention of him having been in therapy, Melissa’s gaze lifted then, and she stared at him, watching as he shifted before her. She could hear the strain in his voice and knew in that moment, that wherever Daniel had come from had not been an easy place. She felt sorry for him, not pity specifically, because she was in no sort of place to pity someone who was probably better than her, but just a sort of sadness for whatever he had been through. Thinking it best to keep her questions in thoughts on the matter to herself, Melissa watched and followed his gaze back down to the case that held his bow and she tilted her head curiously then. “Archery is an Olympic sport?” She asked, her gaze distant as she shifted from corner to corner of every inch within her brain space in attempt to dig up something that might prove the fact true.
"I can’t even recall the last time I even watched the Olympics…or television for that matter." Melissa almost laughed, but her humor didn’t quite reach her throat in time so she settled instead for a simple smile. It was true, she didn’t particularly care for television or movies. Everything that she needed to know could easily enough be found in a book, if one simply knew where to look. Luckily she did, and as she shifted looking back to him, she made a brief mental note to look into archery a bit more when she got the chance. That was the thing about knowledge that intrigued her the most, it was so expansive that it was impossible not to learn something new everyday.
"A hunter?" Melissa’s gaze wavers then, but her voice is sound and strong as she nods. He had another cigarette out now and she couldn’t help but let her gaze wander down to the stick where it sat lit between his lips. She wondered how many different ways he would be able to kill her if he wanted too, a thought that filled the woman with unease, and then as silence settled between them she forced her gaze away to look outwards to the garden. "That’s good. We could always use more hunters in the house." Melissa said softly after a moment, nodding her head along with her words. It was true. Especially with as equally outnumbered as the hunters in the house seemed to be to those of supernatural qualities, those like Melissa.
"Who knows, maybe one day you could teach me how to shoot that bow of yours, maybe I’ll be better at that than what I am with a gun?" There’s another glimmer of a smile on her lips as she looks back to him, inclining with her head down to the case on the bench.
It’s not exactly the reaction he anticipates, but it’s not unwelcome either. Surely, there are all sorts of witches around Greystone’s corners with abilities he’s never even heard of. Her description of said abilities, however, doesn’t express very much reluctance and he suspects that’s a mandatory thing. "Yup, that’s me." No one is obligated to share their species right away, but it makes sense to get comfortable with that kind of an introduction - if one doesn’t know what they’re working with, it’s harder to cooperate. Such is a perfect demonstration of his absolute hypocrisy in having yet to cough up the truth about his diagnosis. To him, that’s something to get to if it comes up, not when he decides to.
"The blackest.” He repeats, brows arched slightly to emphasize the point. After a quick nod, his gaze drifts - she doesn’t seem too proud about that fact. In a place like this, parading about with black magic on your fingertips seems foolish and likely to have you evicted. One thing is for certain: discussing his status in relation to Bokor voodoo isn’t going anywhere near strangers. It’s not something he’ll confront again anytime soon, so he doesn’t see a point in bothering. Not really. "Nice way to put it. You come up with that?" It’s tough not to leave his brow quirked in mild disbelief as he looks back to the woman. "Don’t sweat it." Her apology’s plenty pleasant, and he doesn’t hold it against her.
"Got plenty’a time. Think so, anyhow. But uh, thanks." Oh… here comes the subject again. It’s to be expected, really, it just feels like it gets harder to say every time someone asks. "Got everything cleared up already in that department. Sorta my brother and all, so… y’know." Unlikely, but leaving it at that with an equal look of chagrin will have to do for the time being.
His question seems harmless enough but Melissa can still feel her grip tightening on the book within her grasp. Nathan’s eyebrows are arched in a way that suggest curiosity and while Melissa herself was quite the fan of wanting to know everything, it was almost weird being the source of questioning. “No.” She replied, shaking her head somewhat. “It’s kind of an old joke that really isn’t very funny, but it’s still relevant enough I suppose. Gets the point across, right?” Melissa’s shoulders rise and fall and her lips curve in another attempted smile. If he really wanted to know she wouldn’t hesitate to explain, as the way she saw it trust was something earned, not something that was simply given. And if in the event that one day Nathan or one of the other’s was all that stood between her and an untimely demise, would she really want to have that doubt in the back of her mind that they just might let her die all on account of her not answering a question?
Melissa’s lips move wordlessly as she answered her own question, her gaze dropping again but only for a brief moment. At the mention of Nathan being Sebastian’s brother, she visibly paused, stilling in thought as she stared at him. She couldn’t see it, but then again she couldn’t even see her resemblance to her own mother. It also made her question just how much the two men were alike? Nathan seemed pleasant enough, while Sebastian…there was a never ending wall around that man about a mile high. “Oh.” Was all she could bring herself to say in that moment, her brows furrowed her lips pressed together. Of course, that didn’t mean that she wasn’t dying to know how exactly all of this had come to pass, but if it was one thing she did know, as Sebastian had literally told her the first day, but it was that the man valued his privacy. And seeing as how she wasn’t exactly on the top of his list at the moment it was probably better to keep her head down.
"Where did you move from?" Melissa brought her attention back to the man that stood before her rather than the phantom who oversaw the affairs of the house. "If you don’t mind me asking, of course."
Daniel could see that the woman, Melissa, was wary of him and his bow, but who wouldn’t? If here were standing next to a complete stranger with a weapon as such, he too would be cautious of what they’d be capable of. She shouldn’t have the need to worry however, he would never attack a person, not even the creatures roaming the halls of Greystone…that is, unless it’s called for, then he won’t hesitate putting an arrow through them. Or whatever means it would take to stop them. Should one of them them go berserk and need put down, he’ll be one of the first to step forth and take on the task. On more than one account Daniel knows exactly how much damage a vampire or werewolf could do, but witches not so much. They vary depending on what power they hold, but he’d like to believe they all can be killed the same like humans can.
The name of the book doesn’t ring any bells at the moment and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to. It’s probably one of those kind he never took a liking or wasn’t as important unlike the journals his father kept. Those were worth reading. Hours a day his nose would be stuck in them, studying up on the lore that he would soon know by heart. Need to know how to kill Arachnes? Beheading it is the only way. A Kitsune? Stab it in the heart with a knife or dagger. Rakshasas? A brass knife, simple as that. Basically anything written on those pages Daniel committed to memory out of necessity…and fear that his mother would beat his ass until his cheeks turned red. But he won’t admit that aloud to anyone.
She rambles on about the book and Daniel can only smile as she goes on. She reminds him of a child who’s excited for this new toy to come out and can’t stop talking about it. If it weren’t for her stopping and holding the book close again, he would of sat down and took the time to listen to everything she had to say about it. “I told you,” Daniel says taking a drag and exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t care. You want to ramble? Fuckin’ ramble.”
Now that he gotten to know something about Melissa, Daniel feels inclined to share something as well. Stepping over to the case, he picks it up and holds it out in her direction, the red Agenda 6 compound bow resting in its home along with the many arrows. “Sixty pounds. Durable, yet lightweight. It shoots up to 350 fps. It’s fuckin’ powerful.” He explains as he peers over the top of the case, “It’s often used for bear huntin’, but I prefer it to hunt other things with. Gets the damn job done, mostly.” Daniel chuckles, holding back more he wants to say but doesn’t because most people find his interest boring. Shutting the case and fastening the latches he places it back down on the bench, peering over to the brunette as he finishes the last of the cigarette. “Can I ask what it is you are, human or something else?” Some people do not like how direct the question is, so he hopes it doesn’t disrespect or upset her in anyway.
Lifting her head as he took another hit off of his cigarette, she watched as he seemed entirely unphased by her rambling, even admitting so as he turned his head away, exhaling smoke into the air around him. Melissa had never gotten into smoking, not like some of the other’s she had seen around Greystone, but it didn’t bother her either. Even if she didn’t like the way the smoke burned her lungs whenever she herself was the one doing the smoking, she still like the way the smoke smelt as it hung in the air. It was a weird thing to like, as most people generally hated the smell of smoke, but Melissa was weird like that. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” She questioned in response, her hand moving to push aside a stray lock of hair that had fallen loose from the rest of her hair where it was piled on top of her head. ”I’m always afraid that I’m going to bore someone to death.” Melissa continued, admitting her fear with a small shrug.
The gesture seemed stiff and she hadn’t realized that how tight her muscles were until the man moved towards the case. Her heart stopped and she was almost afraid to breathe as he pulled away with the bow in hand. Melissa could feel her eyes widen, both in awe and fear as he went on about the bow just as enthusiastically as she had about her book. She wondered if the man knew just how much he cussed, and then that thought was quickly proceeded with wonderment on how exactly one got into the business of hunting with a bow. “Did you start out hunting bears?” She asked watching as he carefully placed the bow back into it’s case, the latches clicking into place before he lifted his gaze back to stare at her. “I mean, how exactly does one even start something like that? Archery isn’t exactly all that common these days, is it?”
Watching as Daniel finished off his cigarette, Melissa’s grip on her book tightened as the question tumbled from his lips without restraint. Human or something else? The way he put it almost sounded as if he were insinuating that if you were something else then you were all together separate from humanity. She supposed, in a way, his perception wasn’t entirely unfounded, seeing as how they were a group formed to hunt those who had long since forgotten just what it meant to be human. The thought caused her brows to furrow together some, her lips thinning out with from her indecisiveness. Would she ever forget, would she ever lose her humanity? The way her mother had?
"Human," Melissa finally responded, pausing as she tilted her head and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. "And then some, I suppose. I’m a witch." She admitted before turning the question back to him. "And you?"
The bird stays perched on the branch, chirping away at another bird who responds some place else in the gardens. God, that noise drives him crazy enough to want to stick an arrow in it, though it makes him wonder what the others would think of him for killing an innocent creature. Knowing he’s not cold-hearted, Daniel picks up a rock and chucks it at the bird hard enough so it rustles the leaves around it. A moment later it’s taking off and flying somewhere deeper in the gardens, probably to where ever the other bird might be. Do birds have booty calls?
Daniel sees the woman before he hears her and the first thing he notices is the black boo held close to her chest. When she gestures to his case on the bench he nods, taking the cigarette from his mouth and flicking ashing over the railing. “Don’t be,” He inclines, a slight smile forming on his features. “It it, yes.” It’s partially true. Technically he hasn’t hunted any sort of supernatural being with it yet since when he first started archery it had only been a hobby, something he could to do when his world seemed dull. Daniel hopes he’ll get the chance eventually to use it out in the field.
The brunette is the first person in the house to approach him and he finds himself wanting to know exactly what she is. He knows inside those walls that vampires, witches, and werewolves have been sought out for the same reason as him. Daniel’s not one to judge quickly despite knowing the violent nature all three are capable of. The Tenebrae recruited them, so something must be there that makes them equally trustworthy. “The name’s Daniel.” His eyes once again fall on the book she is holding, “Whatcha readin’?”
Melissa watches quietly as he flicks the ashes of his cigarette over the railing, and quieter still as she finishes her ascent up the steps of the gazebo. He tells her not to be sorry but regardless she still feels all too wary of the man standing there next to a weapon that could do some seriously bodily harm if he wanted to so. As her eyes wandered back to the source of the matter, Melissa couldn’t help but admire the weapon almost like she would admire one of her books. It was a rarity to see something like that these days, especially when most men felt that the power of a gun worked more prominently than the product of how own hands. Given, she would be the first to admit that shooting a gun was no easy task, as she herself seemed entirely incapable of doing so, but with a bow, it took more than just the steady aim of one’s hand. It took strength.
"I’m Melissa." The woman responded as she looked back to where he stood, noticing his gaze had dropped to the book in her grasp. "And this is the Divine Comedy." Melissa had found it while cataloging a few older collections that she had found in one of the furthers parts of the library. The irony hadn’t been lost upon her of course, the fact that such a book would somehow or another find it’s way into her grasp at such a point in her life. Of course, Melissa had read it before, more than once but it was something to certainly be considered how it had been lost in a section that it had no business being in. Kind of like her. Melissa moved the book for him to see it, her one hand holding it out in front of her as the other flipped through the yellow stained pages.
“Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.” She quoted, smiling at the inappropriateness of it all. “I’m not sure on the edition, to be honest, as oddly enough it doesn’t even contain a foreword or anything. It’s written in Latin so I’m assuming it’s fairly old, just not certain how old.” There was a small noise of protest then as she dropped the cover back into place and slipped book back into it’s place against her chest, but aside from that Melissa had fallen into silence. She was beginning to notice that she had a habit of making everything about books a thought that makes her cheeks flush as her gaze falls back down to her shoes.
"Sorry," She found herself apologizing again with a small laugh. "I…like books."
"I don’t know that I will ever trust again,
It’s a price I must pay for all my sins,
Time has changed me and left me full of doubt,
And my heart may be lost never to be found.”