A visitor here? (Andee)

[Vincent]

Vincent yawns as he sits at his workshop, the light barely filling the room he was in, but he preffered it that way. He was home alone once more, out in the mountains of Europe, tinkering away in his workshop. Again, he was building and modifying guns, having nothing better to do really. Afterall, he was eight hundred years old, that wasn't much left that was new after all that time, and he had to entertain himself somehow. As it was, guns were his major hobby, and favourite subject to toy with, ever since their creation. He yawns again, standing up from the work table, stretching his six foot two frame, his dark hair falling into his brilliant crimson eyes. He blows it out of the way with a light smile, walking out of the room, heading out to the balcony. He needed some air.

He leans against the railing, his bronze skin clear in the moonlight, his muscles bared to all who happened to be in this part of the world. He wore a leather outfit, knee high leather boots, pants, and a leather chest piece that left his stomach and shoulders bare. He had leather gloves from his elbows down to his palms, and his two favourite weapons were tucked away at his lower back, looking like decoration for his clothes, like a swallow tailed jacket of the old medieval times. He lets his bored gaze drift across the open ground of the mountains around his mansion stronghold, the massive silver gates open below, the courtyard still clean by some miracle. He really needed to convince people to move out this far, it was far too boring on his own, he was someone that needed company, he was too energetic to get by on his own all the time.

"Gah, this sucks." he mutters, his deep voice rolling out across the still night air. Grumbling, he reaches back inside, pulling out his guitar, before hopping up onto the railing, leaning against the wall, his leg dangling over the three story drop, his fingers flitting across the strings expertly. He'd been playing music for a living for over sixty years, and he'd become quite good at it. He plays random tunes, humming to himself, the melancholy notes filling the air, his only company till he returned to the world of the active. He would say living, but of course, that was impossible for him. Being a vampire had it's perks, but living wasn't one of them, not that he minded of course, it was all the same to him. He continues to play, staring out into the mountains, at the single path that led to his house with a glazed over expression, both here and not, lost far away in his memories, his body firmly locked in the present, the sad and slow notes weaving around him in the still night air.

[andarial]

The night had shown no sign of rain and Andee, never having been in Europe before felt that it was time to stretch her legs. Leopard legs of course. She was running already after having just formed and the night air through her fur felt cool and smelled of perfection. She was sliding through the mountains, a black ghost that is never heard by the tiny creatures or by the humans. She was a painter in the art of silence.Already she was down in the valley running across the ground.

But then clouds from no where crossed the sky and with them they carried rain. She felt the first drop of rain and just thought it was moisture in the air. Yet again there came another drop, quickly followed by another. No, no, no!There was no sign! She let out a coughing roar, like that of her kind, of annoyance and looked for the closest home. The closest wasn't very hard to find as it was a large manor.

She hated asking others for favors but being a leopard and not a tiger she hated getting wet. Practically everything came above getting wet. Andarial slowed to a stop behind a bush and transformed. Sadly she would have no clothes and she was always uncomfortable with her body, especially the long diagnol scar on her back. Back in her pale human shape she glanced about her black hair casting in front of her metallic green eyes.

Shivering in the cold rain Andarial walked out from behind the bush and to the front of the manor, to the silver gates.

[Vincent]

Vincent blinks in surprise as the naked female walks through his front gate. "A visitor? Here? What the hell? And why is she naked?" He mumbles some more to himself, before removing himself from the balcony, setting his guitar safely out of the rain, before descending the stair cases with ease, moving to the front door, grabbing a towel and robe on the way. As much as he liked naked chicks, this was a little too easy, and her scent…it was unknown to him, and he didn’t like the unknown. He pulls open on of the heavy oak doors, smiling despite himself, holding them out for her. “Bathrooms just down the hall, room on the second floor, pick one, all you.” He says, sweeping her inside the house as a boom of thunder echoed across the mountain tops. He loved the rain himself, but with a visitor here, he had to play the gracious host after all. He smiles at her, “I assume you’re looking for a place to stay anyways, this place IS kinda out in the boonies.” He says with a shrug and laugh.

“Head on up to the room, I’ll wait in my work shop on the third floor, call me if you want to talk.” He says with a smile, before blinking, “Oh right, my name’s Vincent, nice to meet you!” he says with a laugh. “Welcome to my home, humbly honored and all that. I’ve never really been one for pleasantries, but regardless, I’ll let you go get some clothes on, anything in the room is your choice, I don’t really care what you take, I have more than enough to replace anything that goes missing.” He says with a laugh. He points towards the stairs, “Right there, take a right, down the hall, all the rooms on the left or right, left has the better view though.” He says with a shrug and smile, winking at her. “But again, I’ll let you get dressed, call me if you need anything!” he says with a smile, touching his index and middle fingers to his forehead, before dropping back a step, turning, and disappearing up another staircase, heading back to his workshop, meaning to finish reassembling the guns he had out.

He steps into his room, looking at all the tools and parts adorning the walls, before sighing. He’d like to get to know her, but he was wary. He couldn’t place her scent, it was something he’d never encountered before, and that made him cautious, more so than he’d usually be in this situation. He crosses the small room quickly, rapidly rebuilding the completely disassembled weapons and hanging them back on the wall next to the other completed pieces. He’d mess with them some more later, for now he was more concerned with his unexpected guest, her intriguing scent, what she was, and why she was here. If she was another assassin, he was going to be really ticked off! His brother had some nerve sending and assassin after him in his own home! Grumbling darkly to himself, he takes his place at the balcony again, watching the rain fall, covered by the overhang of the roof, wondering what other unexpected surprises awaited him this dark and lovely night.