free_form2 Understandings
'Les Bos'... A favourite haunt of Victoria's. She might be a vampire, but could so love to dance amongst the mortals.

No guys allowed, of course, just as the name implied. It had a sort of palatial theme to it; white and pinks, for the most part, with delightful 'waterfalls', composed of glass screens with fluid pouring down either of the sides. A bar and nice, soft couches to lay upon. All in all, it was rather Greek. She had invited Mallory there, but the redhead's schedule had apparently conflicted. Instead, the brunette had danced the night away, both with and without potentially interested others. For the most part, her conversation had been sparkling and friendly, though, not sexual, regardless of the compliments she might gratefully receive, every now and then, for her choice of attire.

Then came time to depart, however. Not because of closing time, necessarily, although it had gone past Midnight. No, the vampiress had simply shifted interest to a change of scene and so, stepping out, laughing a goodbye to new friends, she breathed in the night air with a smile and headed off.

Vampires, as a rule, did not feed in public places. They had a tendency to favour dark alleys or secluded parks, places where they could dump the body and walk off, like nothing happened. Connor had read all the Anne Rice stuff, where they resided in posh apartments or penthouses, just like they were normal people. Then again, Anne Rice was kind of a crank.

It was curiosity, he supposed, especially when he had no more than a first name to go on. Then again, when faced with an enemy as prevalent as the walking dead, learning all one could about them, could do nothing but help. When he saw the doors of the club open and swing shut again, he pushed off from his patch of brick wall, blending into the shadows as he started trailing after the brunette.

Not that there were no other things he could be doing, but he supposed that procrastination could be a good thing. He kind of owed a debt, one for the friend who had been spared. The 'why' of it was a nagging thing, though. What Anne Rice was not a crank about was the bond between sire and childe; an invisible, unbreakable thread. Connor did not get it. Why had she helped?

"You're way not cautious," he said in a low voice, edging up on the vampire's left to fall into step beside her. "One lucky crossbow shot and you'd be on the breeze. Do you always not watch your back?"

On the breeze? Coming to a halt, but still in smiling mood, the brunette turned with an arched eyebrow. The voice had not been female and so a potential Slayer was out of the equation, but they were hardly the only would-be opponents of those such as herself. the turn had been on toe, swift and practiced. She had grace, this one and looked the boy down and then back up again.

"Excuse me, do I know you...?"

It was not spoken in a challenging mood. She was still rather friendly. But after hearing what had sounded like a definite veiled threat to her supernatural nature, the vampiress was alert.

"No, you don't know me." Connor's steps slowed down and he put his hands into the pockets of his jeans to get them out of sight. "But I've been following you since before you went in there and I don't think you had any idea. Dangerous behaviour."

The lad looked sideways to catch a good look at her face. What was the phrase, death becomes her? "You don't have to worry," he said lightly, turning his gaze ahead of him again. "If I had wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't be talking. I guess I just wanted to see for myself. Rhiannon said you were different. I wanted to see how different." He looked at her again, his expression open and guileless. Unaggressive. "My question is why?"

She shifted weight again. Curious, this one. She sensed no fear, which was a peculiarity, in itself, for one who appeared to know of what she was. Head tilted a little and the female brunette cast gaze momentarily to the side furthest away, seeking a more guaranteed assurance of spying no weapon. With none seen, her blue eyes blinked softly back again.

"'Why', what?" Victoria questioned, quite honestly having no idea as to what she was being asked. He knew, of course, but a great deal of time had passed between what had occurred between herself and the Slayer. Vicky had no way of understanding which part of their relationship was puzzling the guy. "Why am I different?" A frown. "That depends on how you define 'different', I guess..."

Looking around herself, the vampiress decided that an open street might not necessarily make for the best place to converse.

"Let's walk, hmm? You can tell me what she's meant to have told you..."

The Destroyer shrugged and he started moving again, hands still tucked out of sight. The Winter was coming to a slow halt, here, in the middle of February and he watched the neon change colour on one of the lighted casino signs as he walked. Just taking a stroll with a vampire, that was all. More bizarre things had happened.

"Why'd you let her go?" He asked, because that was the important thing, right now. If he could understand the why of it, it would make sense. "If what she said was right, she and... 'Deanna'? Have had a hate on for each other for a while. Why did you take Rhiannon's side?"

Victoria was disturbingly human-looking, attractive in a way he had not expected, but the knowledge of what she was helped Connor maintain his healthy mistrust. He was not stupid. Just curious.

"Oh, that," she replied with a trickle of laughter, only for expression to sour, upon being reminded of her bodily familial recent past. Ah yes, her maker... And it had been such a lovely evening, too. Although having found projects to relieve her mind of it, she was very closely bound to Deanna, in terms of bond and the subject of being so ostracised was something which almost physically hurt her. It was conveyed with a much more melancholy, "Oh, right." The vampiress now seeming to feel a little bit more dead, rather than undead, on the inside.

She veered over towards a public bench and gestured for him to sit by her. With a sigh, the vampiress took her own place and mouth twisted a bit. Evidently, this was a topic which displeased her.

"I made a promise to her and I like to keep those," she explained, by no means avoiding the question. Being quite honest about it, in fact. "But more than that, my elder... I suppose you might call her 'sister'... She was trying majorly to push me out of things... And basically, she's the one who had ahold of Rhiannon. She was cruel and spiteful to me, but as much as I wanted to hit back, I never intended for her to... You know..." Victoria made a 'poof' gesture in the air, with her hands. "But Rhiannon did and she wouldn't have done so, if it wasn't for me. So, here I am... Pretty much cast out... All for doing what I thought was the 'right' thing."

A moment passed and Victoria looked up, no doubt about to dispense some deeply philosophical advice about the very nature of existence.

"Being decent sucks, huh?" She questioned.

He supposed he should feel bad, if only because the subject was one the vampire clearly did not enjoy talking about, but he did not. At least, not too terribly much. If Deanna was grieving the loss of her other childe, then that was her hard luck. And if Victoria found herself shunted aside because of that loss, then his sympathy for her was muted by the knowledge of what Rhiannon must have gone through. Her banishment had been because she saved the Slayer's life. What was he supposed to do, apologise? Not likely.

"Rhiannon's a friend," he said instead, looking down at the worn sneakers on his feet. "I don't have many of those. I thought she might have been laying in a dumpster, some place. I was glad to see she wasn't."

The Destroyer took his hands out of his pockets, rested his forearms on his knees. "Decency's hard to come by." Not looking at her, keeping his voice low because he was bordering on thanking her and it made him feel awkward. "But sometimes... Sometimes, you find it when you're not even looking. In places where maybe you shouldn't." His fingers plucked restlessly at a hole in the knee of his jeans, widening it. "So... You know... I just wanted to see you for myself. You did something which was difficult. Now I guess I gotta' do the same thing."

It was the expected initial reaction, but then, Victoria was not fishing for the empathy of a fellow broken heart. Expressing, yes. Looking for, no. She was not one for bursting into tears, yelling at the world and begging for someone to shower her with sympathy, although could perhaps endear it without trying, at times. She had even less reason to seek it here, in any case, for any righteous-minded associate of the Slayer's, especially one with knowledge of dispatching vampires, would probably have little business feeling sorry for one of them.

Still, that was no excuse for Vicky to hide her emotions away. She was depressed by the reminder and saw no cause to pretend otherwise.

At the clarification, however, her forehead marred with a frown and she transferred her gaze from the air in front, over to her side.

"Why, what've you got to do?"

Connor looked up and then across the street. He had been very careful about making sure he was not being followed, but one never could tell. Paranoia was a good friend to have, sometimes. He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out Agent Sparrow's tattered business card.

"Agents of the federal government are in Las Vegas," he told Victoria, seriously. Holding out the piece of paper, so that she could see it. "Homeland Security. They're starting a new programme that targets the supernatural. Just like terrorists, except different. They're looking for hunters, possibly informants. People on the inside. To legitimise us, badges and everything."

He turned and faced her fully, steepling his fingers together with the card between them. "You did me a favour, I guess, by helping Rhiannon. Now I'm doing you one. These people, whatever they're up to... It's going to change things. Likely not for the better. If knowing this will keep you safe, then I have to tell you."

The Destroyer looked away again, scratching the side of his neck. He was going to need to move soon, getting far too restless to sit still. "And my good will ends here," he said, dropping his voice another notch. "Helping you will not stop me from kicking a hole in Deanna if I get the chance. If she gets where I can see her..."

He let the sentence trail off significantly, looked down at his battered shoes again. "I'm way more dangerous than I look."

Victoria cleared throat uncomfortably. "That as may be, tiger, but you've still got a lot to learn about good manners..."

Being given a favour, only to basically threaten to murder her parental mentor, had effectively neutralised any attempt of the boy's at offering an olive branch. Right now, the woman was eyeing him suspiciously, because of it. Typical guy, really... Thinking of things in terms of straight logic and pragmatism, then trying to reassure the listener that he could back up his talk. It had its place, certainly, now was not it, so far as Victoria was concerned.

"Listen," she offered, helpfully, "I appreciate that you've..." She was unsure of his motivation, but he obviously had some. "Gone and joined 'Team Stakeworthy', but telling me you're going to hunt down someone who's like a mother to me, doesn't make me think you're strong. It makes me think you're too self-confident for your own good... If I was the one Rhiannon put an end to, I wouldn't give you a chance to even walk away, right now... I'd just knife you. But I'm not that way, so I won't... And I know Deanna's more than capable of taking care of herself. Just be careful what you say, in future, that's all..."

Although a verbal reprimand, Victoria felt she was within her rights to give it. She did not take kindly to the threat and spoke the words, not as a challenge, but with the tone of someone advising against needless displays of bravado. If he kept on like that, it was going to get him killed, one day.

Especially, Victoria imagined, if he was planning to hunt down her maker. The redhead might be a proverbial cougar, but could be as wily and dangerous as any dragon from legend.

The vampiress glanced down at the proffered card and silently nodded. Perhaps she already knew. Or perhaps the emotional friction she had needed to rub off, had somehow blunted the edge of that particular revelation's response. Either she issued her gratitude with a, "But thanks... For being honest."

Connor made a sound under his breath, still looking across the street. Yeah, Deanna was great, so long as she had a taser and back-up, so that her prey woke up in chains. If she had not cheated, she could never have taken Rhiannon on her own. He had survived the horrors of Quartoth and an almost endless night in Los Angeles. Was he supposed to cower away from one vampire? Not so long as he had a breath in his lungs.

"If you were the other one, I would not have bothered approaching you. That's what distance weapons are for. But I appreciate your feelings." Because, really, he was not surprised at her reaction. Family was family, on the outs or not. In that way, at least, the brunette was like every other vampire. He gestured at the card, rising to his feet.

"Keep it if you want, throw it away if you don't. They might already know who you are. I don't know what's going to happen now, but whatever it is, its going to happen soon. Watch your back."

A ridiculous thing to say to a vampire, but sometimes ridiculous circumstances called for ridiculous things. The Destroyer took two slow steps backwards, listening out for anything that could be called out of the ordinary.

"And thanks," he told Victoria honestly, because sometimes, the truth was all he had. "For Rhiannon."