World Tree MUSH

This iteration of New York City is different from most. There's magic here, for one thing, and it's fairly obvious. It's an overcast day, but a few trails of rainbow light or golden glitters shine through the sky; quite a few buildings look like they're made of solid wood, or as if they were grown out of single massive trees. The people are much the same; humans are about half the population; the other half consists of elves, goblins, those with demon-blood, a centaur here and there, and there's even a few amphibious cars with mermaids in the driver's seat.

Oh, and there's a few cars with tinted windows; some of the windows are rolled down, or have the tinting magically lowered, to reveal ladies or gentlemen who are ... attractive in an anemic sort of way, and have unhealthy-looking skin, and blood-red eyes, and fangs. Vampires a bit more bold when the sun is hidden behind the clouds but there's no actual rain forecast.

Down the street from a tree-library (the dryads who work there are perfectly aware of the irony of hosting a library inside a living tree, thank you very much) is a coffee shop called the Early Latte. Its clientele is approximately the same as the people in the city as a whole; a handful of humans, and a handful of everyone else.

Out from the "Employees Only" door comes a human woman with hair dyed black with a single red streak (brown is increasingly visible at the roots), wearing an anarchy-symbol T-shirt and a rainbow plaid skirt. Unknowingly close to the end of her life, Serrah smiles at the golden-haired elf behind the counter. "Hey, Gem!"

The elf smiles back. "Hi, Serrah!" she says. "Done with your shift for today?"

Serrah nods. "Yep!" she says. "One mocha latte to go."

Truth be told the 'modern' world was something that Sonia was still acclimating to, in some way, ever since she found herself amidst the varied worlds of the Tree. After all, going from somewhere closer to 14th-15th century to places that often had a vast array of conveniences that people would take for granted if suddenly taken away? Yeah, it was still humbling, and she had to avoid the temptations. 

But in places such as this particular New York City, she was getting... used to it. Taking advantage of the sheer amount of books and other resources carefully, cautiously, voraciously collecting information that others knew and in no way was she going to squirrel away things like her family had accumulated beforehand. Nope. 

Ahem. 

Still, she... almost might stand out a bit, if only because she wore something of a traditional traveler's cloak (if somewhat high quality) and radiated a sense of 'approach at your own risk'. Something magnified *several times more* for those of a vampiric nature.

The desire for discretion was the chief reason she hadn't taken action--if only just yet. 

Still, there was an odd sense for her in being in a place where she didn't have to disguise herself as much. With her hood tugged down, she carried her latest selection of books--a mixture of occult and practical knowledge ('Secrets of the Fey', 'People's History of the United States', etc)-- into the coffee shop to have some of that tea. Coffee was interesting, certainly but she was fascinated with the teas they had. And whether it was to-go or to sit down and read is going to be a simple matter of whom else might be there amongst the usual clientele.

This is a bit weird for Lucia to see, now. All of these different species around -- the only time demons in her world are so bold is when there's been a portal to the Demon World opened somewhere and there's an invasion on! But none of these people seem particularly keen on starting an invasion. Which is GOOD, of course... but just REALLY FREAKING WEIRD!

For herself, Lucia's learned that she needs to start hiding her weapons in some of these worlds, so her curved swords have been tucked in her jacket. Oh yeah, she's wearing a jacket here. It's brown and a bit longer than her waist -- just long enough to hide her knives. She's also wearing an eggshell-colored button-up shirt, a pink blouse opened over the shirt, and blue jeans.

The pink shirt just barely gives a little bit of color contrast under her sleeves and at her neck. And her jeans are rolled up just enough that they don't quite tuck into her steel-blue colored leather boots. Of course fingerless gloves. They're a richer, more gold-colored brown.

She heads into the coffee shop, since that seems to be the spot that's attracting a fair amount of people to it. She pauses as she's inside the place -- of course, getting out of the way of the door first -- and casts the gaze of her one visible eye around. The other's hidden by her bright crimson hair pulled into a short braid over her shoulder.

This world may be so used to those with demon blood that it may not make them look at her twice even if those inside can sense it, but she IS a demon. If there are people here NOT from this world who may be able to sense her demony goodness, that could prove awkward to some degree...

A younger-looking vampire is sitting in a seat by the window with a newspaper and an empty coffee mug. He takes one look at Sonia, looks down at his coffee, deposits a "5 Hartford Dollar" bill on the table, and folds up the newspaper and gets up and heads for the door at what is slightly too fast to be a saunter. It's just the most casual nope-out ever. He nearly bumps into Lucia and mutters, "'Scuse me," before slipping out before the door even has a chance to close behind her.

In the middle of paying, Serrah's gaze slides off Lucia without a second glance, but her gaze lingers briefly on Sonia.

Gem frowns. "Hmmm ..."

Serrah shrugs, and turns back to the counter. "Ten to one she's another outworlder," she says. "Or ... offworlder. I can never remember which is the accepted term." She has a somewhat scratchy and androgynous voice.

"'Offworlder', I think," says Gem. "That's what the Emperor said in that speech on TV."

Serrah sighs and looks away awkwardly. "... r-right."

For what it's worth, Sonia *honestly* will not start a fight here. Tempted though she might be, as her eyes follow the younger vampire out the door with as much tacit civility as she can personally muster. No, she needs to /not/ presume here. But... it's hard. It's genuinely hard to turn it completely off. 

Sucking in a breath as quickly and as quietly as possible, she turns towards where Gem and Serrah are at first--though her head cants very slightly--giving Lucia a momentary look. Internally cataloguing what she senses about her. Not human, but this place is still different. Should respect the laws of the land here. Yes. Right. 

"My apologies," Sonia begins with a slight accent--nothing thick, just definitely /not from here/. "... but could I trouble you for--" Her eyes scan the menu--"Honey citrus mint tea, please?" Not long after asking she's arranging the books she had on one arm to retrieve some money at least, based on what she's seeing up there, giving the pair at the counter a polite smile at least. 

Lucia's not paying much attention to the vampire until he's right in her space. She looks to him a little too quickly to have noticed him before that. His polite words draw a nod and she steps out of his way, holding the door open for him, since she hadn't moved too far from the door. Her gaze is also drawn to Sonia -- ironically because of the latter's attempts to cover up and not be seen by the population. The rest of the world seems content to let their freak flags fly... what's this one covering up that's so much scarier than anything currently on display?

As she notes she's being studied by the cloaked figure, Lucia offers a nod of her head in greeting. A little weird, but she's used to being stared at, for a few reasons. Oh, but then the cloaked figure is ordering a thing. Lucia also looks to the menu and then approaches the counter properly.

She likes mint too, so she'll order something with mint in it, while getting out what she hopes is currency they'll take.

When Sonia makes it clear that she's a customer, Gem and Serrah both relax in a way that only now calls attention to the preceding tension. "Of course!" says Gem. "That'll be two Hartford dollars, please. It'll just be a moment!" In the months since the world Blossomed, the Hartford Empire has come up with very efficient money-changing centers for offworlders.

Serrah looks Sonia up and down for a moment, before she manages a smile. "You're from offworld, right?"

Gem shoots Serrah a knowing smile, but doesn't say anything.

Yep, looks like Sonia has all the attention; by the standards of the World of Hartford, Lucia is ordinary, even if she herself thinks the world is strange.

A faintly weary expression comes across Sonia's face at the question alone, as if to say, 'you have no idea how much so', before she gives voice to that sentiment as she fishes out the aforementioned Hartford dollars. Not too different from coinage and the like from other worlds. "Trying to keep track of such is... troublesome. Dollars here are not quite as the same as other places. Silver, gold, electrum..." She shakes her head a little bit, somewhat good naturedly. 

After handing over the requested payment, she reaches to tug free the long braided ponytail from out of her cloak, to let it rest down her left side so it's not being tugged from inside her travelers cloak; the braid itself coming close to her waist, though just barely. "But at least in some of these places, there's still places to learn. To read." She raps the spines of the books in her arms. She screws her face up briefly in thought. 

"If you would need me to go elsewhere, I can." A slightly sympathetic expression. "I tend to cause... reactions." She tosses her head in the direction of the vampire's earlier departure. "Them, I would have tried to kill were it not for the rules here. Were it not the way things are." she admits. 

There's something to be said for being able to blend in, at least. Lucia will pay for her drink with proper currency, and then head for the door with it. Maybe a walkabout is in order, to see what all else this world has that's interesting. It's refreshing not to have to hide what she is, so there's that. Not that she really looks all that weird anyway, and she's not going to be popping her demon form without a reason.

Gem passes over Serrah's coffee-to-go. "Here you go!"

"Thanks!" Serrah nods back to Sonia, looking like she's starting to relax. "Yeah," she says. "Never left this world before, but the way I hear it, even different versions of 'the world called Earth in roughly this current contemporary timeframe' are always way different from each other." She glances at Sonia's book collection. "... Heh, you're the second visitor from another world who's dropped by here who's been to the library."

Gem tenses up as Sonia mentions she might have killed the vampire from before, ears twitching slightly, but Serrah mostly seems unfazed. She's not relaxed anymore, but she's unfazed. "Lemme guess," she says, taking a sip of her coffee. "Where you're from, vampires are, if you'll pardon the term, 'monsters.'"

It's not that Sonia doesn't notice the twitching of ears, it's merely that she's not going to draw any more attention to it than she should. She did believe in being honest at least! A slight nod came from her as she watches the other woman get her order to go, and then the other redhead get her order. Hm. 

Sonia shifts her weight slightly, looking at the books and setting them on the counter before nodding in slow assent. "Quite so. Then again, we too were considered something not too far from them. Something strong enough to kill a vampire is considered strong enough to be a threat to others. Good reasoning, but the..." She catches herself before continuing. Ah, she was letting her guard down when she shouldn't. But. Hm. Something felt odd. Off? 

Switching tracks, she makes a slight sound. "...as far as that 'time frame'... from what I've been able to read about worlds here, comparitively speaking, my time is anywhere between five and half centuries or more in difference." She says such a thing with a mild grimace. 

Serrah tilts her head curiously as Sonia suddenly trails off, but doesn't comment on that in particular. "Considering how much of this world's history has been people being at war with one another, I'm not the least bit surprised," she says mildly. "And by 'people' I guess I mean 'different species' or whatever you call it? Eh." A simple shrug. "This world is in the, uh, equivalent to the year 2019, by the way."

Gem passes over a to-go cup over to Sonia. "And here's your honey citrus mint tea ... uh ..." She blinks. "Wait, did you order to-go, or did I just get my lines crossed there for a second?" This seems to be a genuine accident, rather than a not-so-subtle hint to get Sonia to leave. Or possibly the equivalent of a Freudian slip.

"I can't believe we still use the term 'lines crossed'," Serrah murmurs. "Phones haven't worked like that for ... like ... a while."

A tight smile from Sonia as she speaks with Serrah, and looks towards Gem. "That's quite alright. Here, or otherwise, it matters not." Despite either being an accident or an implication to depart, the young woman is quite capable of turning the other cheek and not taking the slightest bit of offense. She does let the aroma waft to her nostrils with a steady intake of a breath. "Mm." 

After a brief sip and internally calculating, she considers. "Just at... mm. 569 years, I believe. It was the year of our Lord, 1450." Not that she's been able to be back since, but. Still, it explains a few things about her. Her general demeanor and severity. The accent, and why she might be wearing something that looks like it came from that timeframe, if slightly more refined. Collecting the books she had gotten earlier, she hmms. "Do you have somewhere you need to be, or?" IT's an honest question of Serrah, given she too, apparently had one of those 'to-go' cups as well. Politeness! ... 

...maybe. Probably. 

Serrah can't resist when Sonia says the number of years. "Nice," she murmurs. "Yeah, by our calendar, it's the year 719 of the Fourth Age, so you'd be from the year ... uh ... 150." She shrugs. "I dunno how many other worlds have the same era system we do, who knows."

At Sonia's other question, she glances at her cup. "I 'unno, I was mostly just gonna walk home," she says. "My family was gonna have a father's day dinner, but I don't need to be there right away. Guess we could walk part of the way?" She shrugs. "Or something. I mean ..." She blinks. "Uh. My name's Serrah Delany, by the way."

"Smooth," Gem says dryly.

Serrah doesn't even dignify that with a reaction.

A slow shake of the blonde woman's head, "I don't like to think about it. I have been collecting... multiple frames of reference. For the most part, its the 'dark ages' which is apt for my time period. Different timekeeping exists, just that the overall time seems about the same. If... a few decades plus or minus in either direction." She gestures at the book with one finger extended from her held cup. "Part of why I've been... traveling. I enjoy learning. Collecting." 

Something about the mention of Father's Day gets Sonia to stiffen--if only slightly, almost imperceptibly so. "That one is..." She gets a distant look, before nodding. "Ah, yes. Fathers Day was not something we had." A small smile. "We simply honored our fathers and our mothers in everything we did, or at least tried to." She inclines her head, a slightly quizzical look in Gem's direction--blue eyes momentarily piercing. "Sonia. Sonia Belmont."

Serrah smiles faintly. "Man, I wish I could afford to leave this Blossom and just travel for a while," she says dryly. "It's just ..." She gestures back to the Employees Only door. "Doing dishes is about what I can do, basically. Trying to put me in charge of something more lucrative is just asking for trouble."

Gem manages not to recoil at Sonia's pointed look. "Ah, um. Just ... sort of ... giving Serrah a hard time," she says delicately.

Serrah rolls her eyes at Gem, and shrugs, and steps away from the counter, tilting her head towards the exit in a more-or-less invitational manner. "Family's what you make of it, I guess," she says. "I mean, I love my mom and dad, and they love me in all the ways they should, but ..." She looks around. "... 'honoring your family' isn't really a thing these days." She makes a face. "Unless you're a vampire, your 'mother or father' is the one who turned you, and the 'honoring' is in money."

A briefly enigmatic, almost strained look, "Travel is, mm, by necessity. I don't have a home right now. Not one of any permanence." Sonia remarks, though she smiles all the same. Can't blame her all that much, all told. "But we all do what we can. Nothing is ever really set in stone unless we wish it." 

A slight nod to Gem, "Of course. It's quite alright." Speaking of those books, it's time to actually put those somewhere else, if they're going to be actually moving out instead--shuffling slightly to loosen a satchel of some sorts from behind. Setting the tea down and moving the satchel out, there's brief flashes--armor, like a leotard of some kind, leather overcoat, high boots, that kind of thing. 

Wait, was that a whip?

Stuffing the books in the satchel before pulling them back on beneath her cloak before joining Serrah properly. A taciturn 'nn' comes from her as she nods. "Quite so. Money, not blood?" she has to ask, somewhat more quizzically, before giving her tea a quiet sip. "I've felt a lot of them around." she notes almost absentmindedly, her eyes growing clouded for a split second. 

Serrah furrows her brow at the sight of the whip, but doesn't comment. "Ah, dang, yeah, sorry to hear that," she says as she leads Sonia out of the coffee shop. "You're actually the third offworlder who's dropped by who had that particular problem." She snorts. "Good thing you can at least afford coffee, in that case." She sips her own coffee. "Or tea."

She considers Sonia's comments. Okay, a vampire slayer, then. Fits with what Serrah knows about the second century 4A. "Vampires are kind of the ones in charge of this world," she says. "Emperor Germy, the entire Senate of Princes ... They actually control the world slightly more with money than with blood." She pauses at a crosswalk, and gives a grandiose shrug as she presses the button. "Siring another vampire is basically an investment. Pay some money now, make more money later. At least, that's what they tell us 'rabble'." She's practically holding the word in verbal tongs.

She looks at Sonia sidelong. "So, like." She shrugs. "Don't go stirring up trouble here, yeah?" she says, somewhat bluntly. "That's not a fight you can win. You'd just get killed, and nothing would change."

Sonia rolls her neck slightly, nodding a little bit. "Money. Other places. Other times." She heaves a sigh as she looks thoughtful for a moment, listening to Serrah's words of warning. Listening to, and watching others. As much as she might be tamping down the 'natural monster hunter' aura of hers, it's probably kept more than a few from being overt in approach. Internally making note of the names--words and the like she's expecting to learn perhaps from the books she's been going over.

A thin smile from the Belmont. "Quite, but that doesn't invalidate the need to try anyways." A slight breath of air from her. "I am not stupid. To make things change, you have to do more than just eliminate a few of them. You have to be careful of the people. You have to do what you can to keep them in mind. Protect the innocent, even if they never know your name, or curse it because of their lot in life that you didn't do more." 

A brief look in Serrah's direction as they walk. "I can promise nothing. If I am killed, I am killed. No more, no less." 

The walk-sign turns on and begins emitting a buzz and a regular tweeting sound chosen specifically to sound entirely unlike any real-word birds. Serrah rolls her eyes as she starts crossing the street. "Heroes," she mutters under her breath. "Okay, look, I mean I'm not arguing against that, it's just --"

There's a sudden screech of tires as an expensive black hearse skids to a stop, and Serrah throws herself backwards out of the way. She hurriedly scrambles back to her feet. "JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

A vampire steps out. He's a lean and hungry gentleman with brown hair and a razor-thin beard, dressed in a plain black business suit with a coat of arms on his chest. "I beg your pardon!?" he says, as if running a red light and nearly hitting a pedestrian was the pedestrian's fault.

Serrah blanches. "... aww, shit," she mutters. She looks almost apologetically over at Sonia. "That's, uh, His Grace the Duke Vincent D'Ambrosio. Of, uh, House D'Ambrosio."

A raven-haired vampire in a French maid uniform steps out of the passenger's side. She has a Stepford smile, and there's a black heart-shaped mark in the middle of her forehead. "She was at the coffee shop, Your Grace," she says, and even her voice sounds vacant.

Serrah pauses. "... and that's his maid, Wilhelmina Nocturne," she says flatly.

>> SUMMARY[Serrah Delany] >> It's Vincent time!

Well, there's a difference between being a stupid hero and a smart hero. While it's inevitable one of these days that Sonia will probably meet a grisly fate somewhere, it's not going to be under foolish circumstances if she has anything to say about it. 

Though on the subject of foolishness and other such, with the screeching of the black hearse--contrary to the whole, 'hey, you can walk now' thing she was following the signs of, makes her almost jump as well, though with slightly more grace than Serrah had just then. It's an unfortunate lack of grace, she might note for poor Serrah. But Sonia moves in a way that one might hope a vampire didn't see. Too smooth, too quick, tension easing into her like a hand into a silken glove, before she moves from 'defense' to 'recovery', moving to help Serrah up a little--not that it's needed. 

And then the two emerge, and... Sonia is in conflict here. On one hand, there's a difference between say, this vampire, and the one that fled the area earlier. This one actually kind of /warrants/ her not restraining herself. She says absolutely nothing, merely shifting her posture ever so slightly.

Thoughts that rapidly form quickly dictate a course of action--do not get Serrah into trouble, because even if she can depart, Serrah likely cannot. On the other hand, trouble may yet be inevitable. Her expression is taciturn, before giving a short, curt nod. "I see." Her expression betrays no fear, only perhaps carefully evaluating the elder vampire in front of her. 

Of course, such a thing might be in its own way too much, presuming too much, but hopefully it might be enough to clue him into the notion of 'not from around here'. And maybe to ignore Serrah's initial reaction. It's a gamble, to be sure. 

Vincent gives Sonia a look. As much as she's trying to reel in her predatory aura, it's still there, especially to a fellow predator like himself. He's sizing her up, much the way she's sizing him up. It's just that he's considerably worse at hiding it. ... And at doing it, for that matter. But the subtle way in which he shifts his own posture in return suggests that if things do devolve into violence, he is utterly, utterly (over?)confident that Sonia isn't going to be the one walking away.

Serrah looks between Sonia and Vincent, and takes a deep breath. "Gimme a break ..."

Vincent abruptly turns to face her with a smirk. "Oh, hey!" he says. "What was your name again?"

Serrah narrows her eyes. "Serrah," she says curtly.

Vincent bobs his head. "Y'know, you're just about the right height ... I could do with a minion like you! How'd you like to become a vampire?"

Serrah just stares at him incredulously.

And that's when the proverbial dam breaks. Sure, Sonia's been courteous, respectful as much as one can be, it's when the question is leveled with as much levity as seemingly possible--she stops hiding it. It's naked, singular hostility that rolls off of her in palpable waves. And the problem, perhaps--is that still, it *is* restrained. Focused. It's not... blazing out. It's intense, like the kind of cold that somehow comes around and /burns/. 

"Curious. You might well have run over her, and been 'wasteful'." It's a simply sardonic tone from the Belmont, as Sonia regards both Vincent and Serrah. "I take it you both actually know one another, or something else?" Her eyes haven taken on a luster--not quite glowing, but it's as if they brightened suddenly and sharply. 

Vincent smirks back at Sonia.

All the magical creatures of this world, to some degree or other, subtly carry the atmosphere of their true nature. Elves are flighty, dryads feel like you're in a forest even in New York City, and vampires are predators. And if Vincent has any ability or desire whatsoever to regulate his own predatory aura, he gives no sign. But the way his posture is ever-so-slightly tensing up suggests that he's responding in kind. "Oh, well, y'know," he says in response to the 'wasteful' comment. "It wouldn't have been my fault in that case!"

"The light was red, Your Grace," says Wilhelmina, without turning or shifting her own position in the slightest.

Vincent waves her away. "Details, details!"

Serrah shakes her head. "No, this is literally the first time he and I have been in the same room together," she says flatly. "I've just seen him on TV and stuff. And, and Mina over there dropped by the coffee shop once."

"Just so," says Wilhelmina. "Your Grace, Miss Serrah declined to comment on your reckless foolishness in my presence even once."

Vincent turns and points at Wilhelmina. "Oh, hush!"

Serrah blinks in mild surprise at that last exchange.

Vincent shrugs. "But anyway, no, it's just exactly as I said!" he says. "I really do think Miss Serrah is just the right size to be a minion of the House D'Ambrosio!"

Maintaining that mode is just as well. For all they know, both she and Vincent might devolve into some kind of kerfluffle. And if anything, she is beyond, if not extraordinarily tempted. If nothing else, she takes the time to carefully commit every detail to memory, even in conversation. From physical to spiritual, the gleam in her eyes a visual element to her rather unique tracking senses.

The whole exchange itself is a bit... much, she muses to herself. Whether she wants to get into it any further is a better question to be answered. The remarks about 'size' and the like, and the way Wilhelmina looks are enough.

"Well, reckless certainly suits him. Regardless of fault it still would've damaged that... thing," she remarks somewhat disdainfully of the vehicle. Not that the hearse personally offends her sensibilities. Cars aren't a big thing, alright? 

A brief glance around her--though perhaps not so much a glance as expanding her senses. "In either event, the middle of the street isn't even close to a place to be having any kind of... whatever this is." She's doing well. Only just managing to keep all her disgust in! 

Vincent snickers. "Why not?" he says.

"There might be a vehicle accident, Your Grace," says Wilhelmina.

Vincent looks for a moment like he's about to argue the point, then turns to Serrah. "I'm still waiting to hear your answer, my dear!"

"I'm not 'your dear'," says Serrah. "And the answer is no."

Vincent looks nonplussed, as if he genuinely didn't expect this to happen. But then he breaks into the exact smirk of someone who's got some funny business in mind. "Well, all right," he says. "Wilhelmina?"

"As your grace pleases," says Wilhelmina, who walks around to the driver's side of the hearse.

"What? No!" says Vincent. "I was gonna keep driving -- ugh, whatever!" He climbs into the passenger's side, and a moment later, the car drives off.

Serrah sighs with obvious relief, and leans against the crosswalk sign on the near side. "Holy shit," she mutters.

For what its worth, Sonia doesn't draw it back in. Not at all. If someone wants to challenge her, or run away from her at this point while she's here, then by all means. That's what she's decided about this... /place/. Oh she'll still abuse the libraries while she can around here.

Ahem. 

"Are you going to be alright, or am I going to have to do something I'd rather not the next time I see you?" Sonia asks. "He does, nor does this place, strike me as one where you can easily say no." There's some distance in her voice, as she... despite the strange levity of this exchange, cannot dismiss the sense of foreboding.

Serrah sighs, looking up at Sonia. "Yeah I'll be fine," she says, though she doesn't entirely sound fine, and her voice has shifted a few notes further along the scratchy-and-androgynous axis. She's obviously a bit rattled. "I mean. In general I'll be fine." She pauses, then shakes her head. "Y'know what, yeah, no, I thiiiink ..."

She sighs, and takes a deep breath as she gets her voice under control. "How about we meet in the next couple of days for, like ... I dunno." She laughs helplessly. "A council of war, or whatever this is gonna be?" She shrugs. "We could talk about it over ... dinner or whatever. There's this good place called the SheShe Pizzeria." A pause in her babbling. "Have you even had pizza before? Like pizza is something everyone who's capable of eating it should experience at least once. My treat."

Make that very rattled.

"Let me walk you home, at least then." Sonia remarks quietly. "We'll have this... whatever. You can tell me more about this place in general. I don't think I've had anything like this 'pizza', though I have read about it." It's a quiet little smile. "For what it's worth, we were sizing each other up. He feels he can take me. Maybe he can, maybe he can't." A little shrug. 

"Might be something to call me fatalistic but that really isn't the case. More that you cannot allow yourself to be ruled over by possibility alone." Sonia could be deemed a bit 'strange' depending on how one looks at it. A slight rustle of that cloak--making it open somewhat, so she can hook the whip she had in one hand back to the loop for it, before she extends a hand to help Serrah back up to her feet and brace the young lady. 

Serrah nods, and lets Sonia help her to her feet, but she seems to be able to stand just fine. "... Yeah," she says weakly. "Sure, that'll be great. I'll, uh ..." She shakes her head. "... yeah I'll just tell my family what's going on. Ugh this is gonna be a mess no matter how it goes ..."

She smiles faintly. "Yeah, uh ... that definitely makes sense," she says. "It's, it's why I'm trying to take charge now instead of just ... going by 'possibly.'"

She pushes the button for the crosswalk sign again, this time watching the traffic more cautiously. "... and now a girl is taking me home," she says flatly. "I mean ... walking me home. Uh, are whips a standard anti-vampire weapon where you're from?"

Her brow raises ever so slightly. She's... not quite getting what Serrah is implying. Blessedly oblvious to the implications, for now. "Not standard, but it is something my family trained in. There are many ways to fight vampires and other forces of the Night." The way she says that last part, there is... special emphasis there. 

Her eyes retain that otherworldly gleam, as though she were basically scanning for just about /everyone/ and everything. Like a radar, really, at this point. "There's many ways to kill a vampire, and many ways to have to fight one to get to that point. Other creatures, from cyclops to skeletons, zombies, gorgons and medusae... the list goes on quite a bit." She shifts her weight, and gestures again to the other side of her, which bears the hilt and handle of a sheathed blade. There's pouches and other things and -- hm, probably shouldn't pay any mind to the sight of her legs before the thigh high leather boots. 

Still, she closes her cloak once Serrah sees it. "I don't suppose Vlad Tepes III, or Dracula, is considered a reality here, is he?" There's a vague hope the answer is 'no'. 

Serrah is thankfully a bit too shaken up to be ... distracted by Sonia's appearance. "Well, I'm glad that's not something I have to worry about," she says frankly. "I'm fine just doing dishes. Jeez ..." She shakes her head. When the walk sign starts buzzing, she's very careful and cautious about crossing the street.

She frowns at the question. "Um, yeah," she says. "He's a member of the Empire's Senate of Princes. Why?"

Oh dear ...

For a few, fleeting moments in time, Sonia feels the beginnings of an agonizing migraine showing up. "I fought him--not yours, but." Least he wasn't some other big man in charge. That was someone else, as she understood. "I'm going to need to study more of your world before I would do anything anyways." Sonia shook her head as she contemplated. She would have to be more... hmm, careful, she suspected. Let people think she was just an upstart. Beyond the way she had that air of hunter about her at least. 

"This world of yours is vexing." she concludes, giving Serrah an aside look. "I mean, I do understand why you said what you said." 

Serrah snorts as she starts walking down the streets. "You're the second outworlder ... I mean offworlder ... who's made noises like that," she says. "Yeah, no, Emperor Hartford is in the 300-story palace in Hartford, Connecticut. It's the place with security-technology and magic that someone from 569 years ago couldn't even dream of, can't miss it."

She blinks, and blushes faintly as a hunted look briefly crosses her face. "Which particular thing I said?" And then her brain catches up with her. "-- oh. The, the one about getting yourself killed?" She sighs. "Yeah. But. Yeah. It definitely is 'vexing'." She smiles wanly. "I'm the one who has to live here."

A thin smile. "You... would be surprised. Extremely surprised, I think, but that tells too much of Castle Dracula. Which moved. Frequently." She heaves a sigh. "The whole thing about starting something. Were I to do anything it wouldn't do much without people willing to actually do something once done. That, and..." Sonia stops short, and lifts her hand to wobble her hand. "You have the right of it, really. But... there's always a way, even if it's obscured. I disagree a bit about getting killed easily, all the same." 

Serrah shrugs. "Eh. I have no idea what vampire hunting is like, and I don't intend to find out. The easy way or the hard way, I think." She looks Sonia up and down; seems she's starting to recover. "And honestly, when I actually take a minute to think about it ..." She gets a faint, lopsided grin. "... you probably have a better idea how killable you are than I do."

Abruptly, she stops and looks around. "... shit, I dropped my coffee when His Grace nearly turned me into road pizza, didn't I?" She laughs weakly; her laugh sounds distinctly different from her regular voice. "Ah, whatever. Let's just get me home for now, I'll worry about adrenaline versus caffeine later."

"--hm, come to think of it, I lost mine back there too." Sonia makes a vaguely grumpy sound, which on that note she shuffles her cloak so she can check the straps on her satchel, and nodding once before continuing onwards with Serrah. A glance back and she can't... quite see it, but just shrugs helplessly. 

"Vampire hunting is like any kind of hunting. Preparation, planning, watching the plan get completely set ablaze, then adapting to whatever happens next." She pats the woman on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. And if you're not, do you want me to kill you so you don't suffer?" The tone is equal parts serious and joking. 

>> SUMMARY[Sonia Belmont] >> That perfect amount of deadpan humor. Maybe.

That last question actually gives Serrah pause, and it takes her a moment to muster a response. "... depends on how much I'm suffering," she says flatly.

"Well, it's the least I can do!" Sonia remarks cheerfully. "No, I'm sorry. Let me know, all the same." Maybe not the best humor but she's honest. Always honest. 

Serrah just laughs at that. All told, she's beginning to like Sonia. For the moment, she's actually fairly confident about her chances.

Unfortunately, it's not to last.