[London, December 1238, not long after sunset] [Our anti-heroes had mostly gone their separate ways after the celebration of alliance in Paries seven years ago, but tonight a couple of them are about to meet again, even if only one of them knows it.] [Begin.] * Eliana walks through the snow, dressed heavily in her robes and cloak. A large leather bag is slung over one shoulder, and she glances at the mortals scurrying about in the cold with vague interest. * Moriel does not know it. He is, right now, completely unaware of anything around him save for the man in front of him. The man beneath him, in fact, for a stout fellow dressed in the robes of a traveling priest is lying flat on his back a little ways off from the road leading to St. Raphael's. Moriel has one knee planted on his sternum, and both hands wrapped around his neck. * Moriel isn't feeding. There is no blood, and the man is far too obviously terrified to have been quelled by the Kiss. Moriel regards the man with wide, bright eyes and a glittering smile. Then he leans down even closer to whisper in the man's ear so softly that only they two can hear it - or perhaps someone with supernaturally good hearing. There are worse monsters than you hiding in the darkness. And they're hungry. Remember that, my friend. Or perhaps one night you will see greater demons come for you. * Moriel stands and in the same motion hauls the man to his feet. The man is taller than Moriel - most men are - and half again his weight, yet Moriel tosses him like a child to sprawl again six feet down the roadway. * Moriel's smile widens, his eyes disturbingly bright. "Run, little monster." * Eliana looks down at the man sprawled at her feet. "You must have fallen on hard times," she comments. * Moriel abruptly notices Eliana. He retroactively parses her comment after a sputtering moment of forcing his brain to change gears, and chokes. * Eliana smirks, still looking down at the man. [The man stares up at Eliana in wide-eyed horror for an instant, then takes Moriel's advice, nearly tripping over Eliana - and his own feet - in his haste to get away.] * Eliana watches him scramble and flee. "Hm," she says softly, before turning her attention to the other wampyr. "Good evening, Moriel MacRae." * Moriel stares at Eliana for a moment, somewhere between frozen and hopelessly confused. Finally he just says, "Good evening, Mistress Casale." * Moriel then looks down at a small satchel lying abandoned on the ground and frowns. A few objects fell out of it on its no-doubt-violent separation from its owner - a scrap of cloth, a splinter of wood. Moriel picks them up along with a large stone and shoves them back inside the bag, fastening it tightly. He rises and slings it over his shoulder. May I assume you were seeking me? That would be a reasonable assumption. Who was he? * Moriel says in a voice of perfect calm, "A charlatan and a disgrace to his cloth." He steps briskly towards Eliana and then past her, heading towards the river. * Eliana walks after him, eyebrow raised. "How?" * Moriel snarls at that. "He was selling false relics. For exorbitant sums, to people who could not afford them, people who were desperate, people whom he should have been trying to aid..." His steps quicken involuntarily with anger, until he forces himself to take a breath. * Eliana says calmly, as though Moriel's not worked up in knots, "It is unfortunately common. I've seen a great deal of those sold in Italy and France." * Moriel snarls again. It's a completely involuntary response, one he hardly even seems to realize he's doing. "They shall *not* be doing it in my domain." False hope is an easy thing to sell. But you may have stopped one. * Eliana tilts her head slightly, looking at the not-quite-stomping vampire ahead of her. "I could keep an eye out for you." * Moriel snarls again, and then the expression slowly transmutes into a smile. The smile is infinitely more frightening. "Oh, I ensured he will be haunted by this evening for some time to come." But I should appreciate it, if you saw him at that trick again. * Eliana studies Moriel's face, but if she's bothered by his smile she doesn't show it. "My pleasure." * Moriel actually looks at Eliana again and a little more sanity comes into his eyes. He bobs a short walking bow. "Thank you." * Eliana nods back, still paying close attention to Moriel. "The relics - are those what's in the satchel?" Moriel nods. "Among other things. Pardons. Some minor travelling necessities. And..." A thought seems to strike him, and he stops for a moment to rummage around in the satchel. A moment later, he pulls out a fat purse and hefts it in his hand. He can't be local, then. Expected, but it's almost a shame. * Moriel grimaces at it in distaste, but holds onto it. Without putting it into his pocket. He rises again and raises his eyebrows at Eliana. * Eliana raises an eyebrow back at Moriel. She gestures at the purse with one gloved hand. "Looks like he made quite a profit. It's yours now." * Moriel 's lip curls. "Hardly." * Moriel sighs. "I cannot return it to those I ought...the best I can do is give it into the hands of a priest I know to be honest." * Eliana rolls her eyes. "Good luck with that." * Moriel glances sideways at Eliana, eyes unreadable. "They do exist." I'm certain. Largely honest *people* exist, after all; they're just extremely rare. * Moriel sideglances again. "*You* are a largely honest person." * Eliana laughs, because really, that's pretty funny. "To a certain audience." * Moriel shakes his head. "You lie. Everyone lies. But you...you dislike it, and avoid it whenever possible. Even when it would be wiser to lie." * Eliana shrugs with one shoulder again. "Being dead is nice that way." * Moriel looks at her for a moment, then snorts. Having fetched up on the bank of the river, he spends a moment looks out over the rushing black water. Then he slides the satchel off his shoulder and heaves it into the river. Being much lighter than its owner, it goes a considerable distance, and sinks with barely a splash thanks to the stone. * Moriel says after a moment, "Hardly. When one is still mortal, torment can only last so long." We may not be, but that is still true in our case. We are *undying*. A clever tormentor...could extend pain for centuries. Longer, perhaps. * Eliana nods, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. "Doubtless." * Moriel sighs and turns away from both the river and the dark conversation topic. "Did you seek me for some particular purpose?" Yes. Can we go inside? * Moriel nods. "Of course. My apologies. I just...wished to take care of that." And he walks with Eliana back to St. Raphael's. * Eliana follows. "We have plenty of time," she comments, which probably means she accepted his apology. * Moriel opens the door for Eliana politely, and then pauses, once more unsure about how to carry out hostly duties in the absence of...well, pretty much any kind of place or supplies to conduct them. After a moment he just gestures Eliana to a pew with a shallow bow and then takes a seat across the aisle from her, same as before. * Eliana doesn't seem interested in sitting, as she's taking her time actually lowering her hood, removing her gloves, etc. She even removes her cloak, draping it over one of the pews. * Moriel does not sit then! As it is impolite to sit before one's guest does. Instead he simply watches her, faintly puzzled. * Eliana sets her bag on the edge of a different pew, opening it and pulling out a thick stack of paper that's bound with string. She hands it over to Moriel. * Moriel blinks and takes it, then looks back up at Eliana questioningly. I've been working on a translation. It's incomplete, but I do seem to have a lot of time. ...a translation of what? The book you commented on. * Moriel looks down at the stack of paper in his hands, then back up at Eliana, wide-eyed with...something. Astonishment. Wonder, perhaps. After a moment he says very carefully, "Thank you." You're quite welcome. * Moriel does not seem to be sure where exactly to go from here. He looks around, but he doesn't want to just put the package on one of the pews, and this obviously isn't where he keeps his books... * Eliana watches Moriel brain hiccup curiously. It's not as interesting as the *last* brain hiccup, but it's still fun to watch. * Moriel is totally distracted, and so does not notice Eliana's amusement. Perhaps fortunately. Eventually he just settles on holding the stack of papers to his chest until he can put it where it belongs. * Eliana watches Moriel be awkward for a moment longer before she asks, "Would you like me to leave?" I...don't know. * Moriel smiles briefly. A genuine smile, this time, that crinkles the corners of his eyes, however fleetingly. "I am not accustomed to...being in the company of others when there is not some purpose in it." I'm not even sure I know how to make conversation. * Eliana blinks in surprise at the smile. "Ah." Pause, and then she smirks a touch. "This isn't quite being a hospitable guest at court, is it." No. But I don't particularly enjoy that, anyway. Nor do you. * Eliana shakes her head slightly before rubbing her hands together, probably in a subconscious attempt to generate warmth, even though there isn't any. "How is the priest doing?" she asks. Well, as far as I know. He's healthy, anyway, and...his parishioners are happy when they leave vespers. Peaceful. * Moriel looks down at the false priest's purse still in his hand. "I may leave this for him to find." A good a plan as any. I would have spent the majority on a book or two. * Moriel shakes his head, face tightening. "Not this. It's...tainted." All money is likely tainted at *some* point. But you are kinder than I. * Moriel sighs, shoulders slumping. "Likely true. But...God cleanses. I will give it over to Him, to be redeemed in charity." * Eliana rolls her eyes, unable to completely hide her derision. "If it helps you sleep at day," is her comment. * Moriel looks up again and smiles faintly. "If I find another, I shall give it to you, to buy books with. Besides. I have all I need." I wasn't asking. I was simply trying to make conversation. I know you weren't. * Moriel smiles. "One doesn't give gifts because someone asks. That's not the nature of a gift." No... I suppose it isn't. * Moriel watches Eliana and smiles more, but he doesn't push it. Much. He bows, and says, "Thank you for your gift. And the conversation. I expect I shall see you...sometime in the next eternity." Perhaps we can discuss mathematics, when I have read this. * Moriel indicates the stack of papers with the brush of a finger. I would enjoy that. I'll drop off the rest of the translation once I've finished. * Moriel nods. "Thank you." * Eliana doesn't bow back; instead, she goes about pulling her cloak back on and gathering her bag. * Eliana says, once she's put her gloves back on, "My pleasure." She curtseys briefly to Moriel before turning and heading back out of the church. * Moriel steps to the entrance of the church to show Eliana out. It's somewhat awkward to manage the heavy door while holding a stack of papers and a coin purse, but he does it anyway. "Good evening, Mistress Casale." * Eliana laughs because again, kind of hilarious - but she actually lets Moriel show her out. "Good evening," she says, before stepping out into the snow. [End mini!]