special snowflake

Mountainside Planetarium 
 Another step closer to winter meant earlier rising - and, apparently, snow. Lazarus had spent the day of dead sleep at the planetarium, having stayed up too late practicing piano to make it home in a timely manner. He had taken a shower, and stepped outside into the young night to find a thin layer of white upon the earth. It felt like it had been a small eternity since he had seen snow, but he was no more impressed for it.

 Still-damp hair quickly hardened in some places, locks of his shaggy mop crystallizing rapidly with no body heat to delay the process in the cold night. He could distinctly recall the feeling of winter's chill being painful to his warm human skin, but now, he felt no such thing. An eternity of crisp chill. Generally unamused by snow, far removed from any childlike wonder that might endear him to it, he would not linger too long in it. Still, it was kind of cool to see a single snowflake float down into his open palm, to be able to almost see the very distinct pattern of it as it rested on his skin, cold enough to preserve it where a human's skin would melt it into shapeless water in a heartbeat.


This was... weird. Snow was something she had a love/hate relationship with. It was so gorgeous, but she always ended up really fucking miserable when it got bad. Maryland got cold as fuck and so did Colorado, so she was used to it. But still, she didn't have much meat on her bones and she never felt prepared with winter clothes. But now? Now it didn't matter. Her body was constantly suspended in a frozen temperature. What was cold felt normal, and what was warm felt... sill nice. She'd been warned about fire, so she hadn't really gotten too close to anything warm recently. Except, like, people. ANYWAY.

Snow had never stuck to her skin like this. When it would fall into her hair or eyelashes or onto her cheeks, it would always linger for a bit before melting away. Now, it sort of just dusted over her as she walked like, um, like cocaine. Bad metaphor. Didn't matter, it was weird and cool and beautiful all in the same. She didn't have breath to create billowing plumes of steam; when she tried it had just sort of been hollow air that pushed snowflakes around; so that was a little sad. But she was enjoying walking across the grounds of the Planetarium, exploring the sights of the Clutch's hub and catching snowflakes in her fingertips.

She was nearing the front steps when he spotted him. A young man that was probably too pretty for his own good. There was a spark of excitement in the idea of calling Nasreen in to help her turn something so nice looking into a warm meal, but she was sort of disappointed to find that there was no smell of blood or source of heat. It was actually another vampire. And, given they were standing on the Clutch's doorstep, she was going to assume this was one of her fellow members. Okay. So. First impressions mattered!

With a little smirk, Safi directed her course up the stairs and toward him. In her hands was a pretty thick layer of snow that just sort of sat there, waiting to be manipulated however Safiya saw fit. It just so happened she saw it fit to wander up to the boy and give the pile a sharp blow, which the breeze would kindly pick up and shift in the direction of his face. Her nose wrinkled some with a satisfied smile. "Cool, huh?" Don't think she hadn't noticed him inspecting the snowflakes. Maybe he was newer, too, or maybe this was his first time seeing snow. Either way, it was something nice to be witnessing.

 He felt her and heard her before he saw her, and yet the puff of snow fluttering around his face still managed to take him by surprise. He squinted and blinked as his head whipped in hr direction, face wrinkling up in a reactionary sort of disdain. One hand rose to wipe the dusting of snow off his cold face, and he considered the girl with wary eyes for a moment. She was unfamiliar in appearance, but something about the air around her was tinged with some sort of... knowing.

 "I reckon," he drawled lowly. "Who're you?"

Oh, god. He was so cute?? His nose scrunch and I reckon. Safi chuckled warmly at his perplexed little frown. "I'm Safiya." She made sure to refer to herself as what Nasreen encouraged her to. "New kid. Who're you?" A little shrug as she craned her head to look up to the falling snow. "Are you new, too? Like, to being a vampire."

 Safiya. What an unusual name. New kid. He tilted his head at her. New vampire, or new to the clutch? He tried to focus on the energy around her - she did not really feel quite like any of the others he had met here. She asked who he was, and in the time it took him to decide whether or not he should tell her, she was asking him a question that held an answer in itself. So she was a newcomer to the life of the undead.

 "I'm Lazarus," he said quietly. "And nah. Been this way for some time." He eyed her. "I take it you're uh... fresh blood."

Lazarus! That was... a name. She wondered idly if it was fake. It sounded fake. Either way, she liked it. As for his undead status, it was nothing new. Maybe he just hadn't seen snow before. "Mm," She nodded at his assumption, "Fresh out the undead womb." She frowned a little as the words came out, and looked at him with a stitched brow. "That sounded less gross in my head." Yikes.

"Snow a new thing for you, then?" She prompted, eyeing how some flakes were sticking to his cheeks and ears. Those cheekbones, though. She was envious.

 Fresh out of the... undead womb. Even Lazarus's brow wrinkled some for her somewhat morbid choice of words, but he made no remark on it. She got her point across, even if she hadn't thought it through all the way before speaking.

 Lazarus observed the way the snow held onto the tight curls in her hair just as easily as they clung to her olive skin. How fortunate they were in death to not suffer for the cold. She asked him yet another question, and he blinked at her as the train of thought vanished from his mind. His brow remained furrowed, the face of a man perpetually lost in his own mind.

 "No. Just been a while since I seen it last," he informed her somewhat gruffly, opening his palm again to catch more of it as it fell out of the sky. "Never was a big fan of it back when."

His accent was honestly so adorable. The way he spoke reminded her of the old westerns she used to watch as a kid with her grandfather. Safi chuckled as he put up his hand, and raised her own to match his. "Back when? How long's it been?" Had he lived in a place that didn't snow before, then? How do you just live life without seeing snow? Thought the northerner.

 Back when? Lazarus studied her warily as he tried to decide what she was asking - how long had it been since he had seen snow, or how long had it been since he'd been human? More likely the former, he figured. The answer was... uncertain. Maybe years. There were too many holes in his memory to be sure. "A while," he repeated vaguely, uncomfortable with the idea of sharing his own misgivings.

Boo! So vague.

Safiya turned on her heel to face him fully. She had to really look up, considering her was towering over her. But she was used to feeling short, and it wasn't imposing. Her arms crossed as she fixed him with a pursed lipped look of consideration. "Hmm." Her chin tilted up as she studied his face. His freckles, his eyes, his mild presence. "You don't seem like you're one thousand and something. I'm going to guess." She moved a hand to drum her fingers along her chin.

"Two hundred. You talk like you're in the old west." A wild guess. She smirked as she awaited the verdict.

 Her turning to face him fully wouldn't go unnoticed - Lazarus didn't move his body to mirror hers, but would tilt his head so that he could keep both eyes on her. Was she... sizing him up? She looked into his face, and he was careful not to meet her eyes, finding a safer place on her lips as she spoke. No, he was hardly that old. She was going to guess, and quite frankly, the man listened with piqued interest - perhaps there was some ego involved in that.

 Two hundred. She nearly hit the nail on the head. He was amused, but his face hardly translated it. His brow would soften some, leaving him a slightly more neutral expression. "Damn close. A hundred 'n eighty-five," he confessed quietly. "What're you, twenty somethin'?"

Safiya, on the other hand, beamed. One hundred and eighty five sounded a lot more tangible than a thousand whatever. Still old, but at least it was a number she was familiar with. Mostly, she was too proud of herself to think too hard about it. He prompted her to tell her age, and she nearly did before pausing. Her brows arched and she clicked her tongue. "You've got to guess an exact number, like I did." She corrected him. Her chin tilted up a bit higher and she elongated her neck. "Hm? How old do I look?" Be careful, freckles.

 A guessing game. Lazarus watched her carefully, considering the challenging body language of her tilted chin, her arched brow. There was a moment of silence as he thought about his answer, before gesturing with both hands in a very small shrug. "Uh. Twenty-one." It seemed reasonable, but his voice conveyed more confidence than he actually felt.

Her brows sank as she pouted up at him. "I'll be twenty five in June. But I guess I'm twenty four forever." A small shrug. Not a bad age to be frozen in eternity. "How old were you? You look like some of these college students around here." It was a compliment! He had a cute face! Maybe the freckles helped a bit.

 Her cocky look gave way to a feminine pout, and he knew he’d gotten it wrong before she even spoke. At least he had erred on the side of youth - women didn’t like to be old, right? He hummed a low note in response to her correct age. Twenty four forever.

 How old had he been? Old enough to pass for a college student, apparently. He guess that wasn’t a bad thing. But he did have trouble remembering exactly how old he had been. He pressed his eyes shut for a moment. "Mm... I reckon pretty close to your age," he said finally. "Can’t quite recall these days."

He reckoned, huh? Safiya smirked at his words, his little scrunching of his eyes. It was distantly unsettling, to think that one day she might forget how old she was. How it happened, what year. But it was literally impossible to feel apprehensive about it. So she didn't. Instead, she smiled with closed lips up at Lazarus.

"You sound like a little old grandpa." She said with a little chuckle. "But you're definitely cuter than a grandpa." She assured him. It was cute!

 She smiled perhaps smugly at him, and he watched her with continued wariness. The furrow reappeared in his brow as she likened him to an old man - he supposed he was technically an old man, far beyond the natural life span of any human, but he hardly felt it. Then she went on to call him cute, and for a brief moment his memory returned to the beast man guitarist who had used similar words to describe him.

 Lazarus had never found himself particularly homely or unattractive, but to hear someone else remark on his looks still felt... otherworldly. Was she complimenting him, or attempting to humiliate him? Was she being flirtatious? The boyish vampire looked away from her, reaching up to brush snow from his face. "Thanks," he muttered flatly, still uncertain of her motive, much less the proper reaction.

So shy! He seemed a little confused, and maybe not sure how to take a compliment. Safiya wasn't bothered by his underwhelming gratitude. "I never tell a lie." She shrugged, because it was true. "How long have you been, um, a member?" She guessed that was the word to use? "Anything I should know that Beauregard and Raziyya wouldn't tell me?" A wiggle of her brow. Mostly a joke, but she would actually like to know if there was.

 Lazarus was more interested in the potentially false, and therefor ironic, claim that she never lied, than the fact that she was saying it to enforce her finding him “cute.” Everyone lied. Even flirty, freshly-turned vampires.

 Apparently talkative, she continued on with further questioning. Rightfully interested in clutch business. "Since late spring or thereabouts," he said slowly, trying to think whether or not he could put a face to the name “Raziyya.” It did sound familiar. That her latter question might have been a joke completely went over the man’s head. "Not that I know of." The confession was an honest one, if nothing else. He was not exactly privy to the finer details of Clutch life. "Ain’t too involved, myself."

'Thereabouts.' So. Cute. He also didn't get the joke, but Safiya didn't let it bring her down. She wasn't surprised he wasn't too involved. He seemed like the loner type. More surprised that you were able to do that. Be part of the group but just sort of do your own thing. It was nice to think about. "How come? You've been nice talking to so far, I don't think it would be hard for you to make friends." A little wiggle of her brow.

 She was full of compliments. It might have felt nice, if it didn’t make him so nervous instead. His dark eyes glanced down at the slowly piling snow at their feet. People were hard. Trust was hard. He wouldn’t admit fear, though, even to himself. Fear was weakness.

 "Just... introverted," he drawled almost reluctantly. "I don’t figure you’ll have any trouble on that front, though." He’d rather talk about her. Divert her attention, distract her curiosity. "You got a power yet?" Maybe she was far too new for that. Or maybe she was like Ellie, gifted before death.

Introverted. She couldn't related, but she respected it as an answer. He was also right. She was great at making friends. He seemed to want to deflect and ask more about her, even if he was probably the more interesting of the two of them. It was fine, though, and she brightened at the question anyway. "I had two before I was changed." She said with a grin. "One of them, I can tell if someone is lying and make sure they speak the truth. The other... um. I can show you." Cause that was always more interesting, anyway. And since he probably had at least one of his own powers, she wasn't shy about revealing it. "What's one thing you would like to see? Not like, a place. Just, something." Give her something to work with, Lazarus.

 Two. How interesting. Lazarus’s brows rose some in a display of curiosity as he listened. A walking, talking lie detector. He was both fascinated and intimidated by it - he was not really one for dishonesty. Typically anyone he would lie to, he would just as soon not speak to at all. He wished he had such an ability.

 Her second ability required showing rather than telling? He considered her with a steady level of apprehension, and a small voice in the back of his mind prayed she wasn’t a pyrokinetic.

 Something he wanted to see. Um. Lazarus glanced at their powdery white surroundings uncertainly. She very likely meant something besides what they were seeing now. "A horse," he decided finally, after several moments of silent consideration. Curiously, he waited.

A horse!

Safiya beamed up at him a moment. How fitting. She was more than willing to deliver, even if something like that was a whole lot to conjure up. With a deep breath in that filled her still lungs uselessly, Safiya let her eyes fall shut a moment. In her head, she pictured a purely white horse with a smooth coat and an arched neck. Imagined the sounds the hooved would make against the snow dappled concrete, the snorting, the heavy breathing and musky scent. When she opened her eyes, they were white as the snow that fell around them. She looked once to him, then over his shoulder, toward a nearby corner.

From around the wall, a faint "clopclop, clopclop" echoed. The horse came into view moments later, sauntering toward them through the flurries. Steam billowed from it's fuzzy nostrils as they flared with each huffy breath it took. The smell of hay and manure was faint but there. The beast neared, but did not come to stand before the doors in the case some lingering patron was in the front lobby. It was pretty late, though, so she didn't worry too much. As for her well being, there was a notable sting in the back of her eyes, but nothing she couldn't manage for now.

 He stared intently at the woman as she closed her eyes and drew air into dead lungs, somewhat stiff with anticipation. Her irises were a stark white when she looked at him again, and then she was looking beyond him - and then the distinct clatter of hooves against stone caught his attention.

 Lazarus turned carefully to find the source of the sound, and there it was - a magnificent white beast, moving towards them. He watched it almost affectionately. It took him far back in time, to his human existence. Horses had been a major part of life back then. They were vehicles, companions, work tools, sources of income. He had stolen several in his last few months of warm-blooded life.

 "You can... summon things?" he asked uncertainly. He had never once been able to summon a live creature.

Honestly, with all the work she was putting into it, she half expected a more impressed reaction. Still, his question made her chuckle. Not in the condescending way. "Mm, no." She said with a shake of her head. She kept the image going a moment longer, made it throw its head to shake it's mane from the snow that didn't quite land on its fur. Sort of just went through it. "Just the image of things. And the senses that come with them, if I try hard enough." She said. The horse huffed once, then the back of it began to just... fall away. Dissipating in the image of hundreds of snow flurries being picked up by the breeze. They blew outward toward the sky, imperceptible amongst the real flakes. Soon enough, the entire horse was nothing but snow crystals, and after a moment Safiya let the illusion drop all together.

She swayed as her eyes flickered back into their deep brown, blinking as she moved to rub between her eyebrows and smooth the crease that had formed between them. "What can you do?" She prompted, hoping he would answer while she took the time to recover.

 His eyes remained on the horse, though he was listening to Safiya speak. It was not summoned - it was an image. A trick on the senses. For as beautiful as the false horse was, with the realism of the imagery and the magic sort of touch that came in the form of it dissolving into snow, that was also a terrifying ability. How unusual - to be able to decipher truth from lies, and yet to also be able to build lies that could trick the senses.

 "Impressive," he said quietly, without any trace of falsehood. He turned to look at the woman as the horse disappeared completely, watching her sway and hold her head. He understood the drawbacks. What could he do? Lazarus hesitated for a moment, but... he supposed she could be deserving of an answer after a show like that.

 "Summon objects from other places, near an’ far." He considered her quietly. He could offer an example of his own, but it felt particularly unimpressive in the face of her abilities.

It would take a moment, but the ringing in her ears would eventually subside. She didn't miss his explanation. So, he was the one that could summon things! Safiya blinked away the blotches in her vision as she focused back on him, and offered a bright smile. "Thats so cool!" She gasped. "I wish I could do that. Man, I would be so lazy." What would she summon? Like, everything. Just sit on her couch all day and summon food and drinks to her. Except, she didn't need those anymore so. Um. She would summon all of the hair ties that her house ate.

"It's only fair that you show me. Anything?" A brow raise. Anything? "Do you have to know where they are first?"

 His neutral expression would break for a brief moment, making way for the tiniest of smirks at the mention of how Safiya would be lazy with such a power. It did come in handy when he didn't particularly feel like getting up for something, or when he had forgotten an important item. The train of thought was derailed as she prompted him to show her a trick - a request that hardly surprised him.

 "Inanimate objects only, I think," he informed her, words careful. He wasn't sure of the tangible limits of what he could summon. "Never been able to summon somethin' when I don't know where it's at." A soft shrug of his shoulders, before he held out his hands and closed his eyes. What did he want to call up? Anything would work, he supposed. He pictured his closet, and the heavy coat that would be most appropriate for this weather but was honestly unnecessary. Thickly woven and dark brown in color. He called to it, and suddenly, the weight of it was in his hands.

 He opened his eyes, and traces of pale blue bled away to leave his eyes hazel again. He adjusted the coat in his hands and held it out to her. "From my wardrobe." Not as impressive as a horse, but it was what it was.

The limitations were kind of sucky! Inanimate, and only if you know where it is. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you could find lost things. If not, it was still pretty convenient she guessed.

Lazarus held out his hands, and Safiya watched them a moment. Was there some special hand movement he had to do? Some magic word? Som- There was a coat in his hands. A fucking coat. Just. Out of freaking nowhere.

Safiya blinked, blinked again, and took a step back. Her mouth fell open as he showed off the coat and explained where it was from. It was, of course, the truth. She would know. “Dude.” She said after a stunned moment. “Dude!” Her hands went to her hair as she bent forward in an incredulous laugh. “That’s so fucking cool!” Holy shit??? That was so much cooler than what? Making the image of a coat? It was actually there... right?

Safiya reached a hand out to run her hand along the collar, then down across the sleeve. Her fingers brushed over his momentarily, which was actually helpful to prove that he was actually holding a real life coat. Also, bizarre to note that he wasn’t cold to the touch. She was still expecting it, after having felt how cold Nasreen was whilst she was still human. It was jarring now to feel a vampire and be the same temperature as them.

“Neat!” She laughed again as she pulled away. “Wouldn’t it be easy to just steal a bunch of stuff?” Not that she would, but!

 The young woman seemed legitimately awestruck by the instant materializing of the coat. Her mouth came open, and she uttered a few exclamations that clearly displayed her amazement. Lazarus blinked, expression one of water-down surprise. Summoning had never really struck him as something so impressive, and yet this girl seemed positively blown away. It was... nice. It stroked his ego enough that any suspicion of her falsifying her reaction to get on his good side fell away.

 She touched the coat, as if to make sure it was actually there and not some vacant image, and he stiffened some as their fingers touched, mildly startled by it though it was short-lived. Another word of praise helped him move past it, and as she laughed and withdrew, he pulled the coat back to himself. He chuckled a little at her following statement.

 "I made a living as a thief before I was... turned," he drawled quietly, looking down at the coat in his arms as he spoke. He'd nearly said "taken." "This woulda been a useful gift back then." Another little chuckle, and he willed the coat to disappear from his hands and return to the hanger from which it had come. "Still kinda... glitchy sometimes." Glitchy. That was a word, right?

She hadn't missed the reaction to the touch, but thought better of saying anything about it. He was chuckling, which was nice! She figured he was one of those guys that tried to pretend they didn't have emotions or anything. Well, buckle up, because she was about to break those walls right down. No one ended a conversation with Safiya unhappy. Except.... well, that was wrong. Anyway. What he said next surprised her.

"You? A thief? Well, I never!" That last bit was in a pretty spot on southern accent, if you asked her. Perks of having lived that theatre life. She'd taken a bunch of voice classes for all kinds of accents, and yeah maybe sometimes she talked to Osiris in all the one's she knew she was get out. Don't judge. Anyway. He sent the coat back, which was as fucking cool as the initial appearance. He could be a magician, honestly. And actually be legit. They could do an act together!

That would be ridiculous. "Glitchy how?" She asked curiously.

 Her praises went with the coat, and as the moment ended Lazarus regained some of his typical somber essence. His hands withdrew into the pockets of his pants, and he eyed her as she reacted with (potentially false) incredulity, wielding a sudden southern accent. A part of him bristled, defensiveness flaring up at the notion that she might be mocking his deep drawl. But perhaps it was not - maybe she just thought she was being funny. Maybe it was one of her illusions. Lazarus would let it slide.

 He shrugged at her question. "Summoning the wrong thing. Or accidentally summoning something. Took some young lady’s phone outta her hands a couple weeks ago." The memory still left him with a pang of anxious regret. "Just a matter of practicing more, I reckon."

That would suck! What if you accidentally took someone’s crutches or something. Safiya winced sympathetically. “I used to have slip ups when I first got the illusion.” She admitted. “I was ten when I got it, so you can imagine there wasn’t much control going on.” It had been a crazy discovery. She’d always had an overactive imagination, so to be able to bring it to life was. A lot.

“I would show other kids cause I didn’t know to keep it a secret. But sometimes if they got scared or angry with me for ‘pulling a trick’, the illusions would get way scarier than I meant them too.” Once she’d showed a kid a mirror image of himself, but when he got mad, she’d made the eyes of the illusion pop like balloons. Nothing graphic, as she hadn’t been exposed to anything like that, but still. It was scary for a twelve year old.

 Mishaps with power were apparently not uncommon, but they bothered him all the same. Even death and its perks were unreliable. He frowned slightly at the thought, listening to her regale her experiences. That she could scare others, even without physically harming them, was powerful in itself. He wasn’t sure he liked it - particularly because his mind quickly ventured into a dark scenario in which she might use it to torment him.

 "I s’pose you could be downright cruel with that kinda thing," he muttered. The mind could be such a fragile thing.

He wasn’t wrong. Safiya shrugged with a little hum. “Yeah, but I prefer to make pretty things. Or make things that make people feel good.” She guessed, if she wanted to get real here, the fire thing wasn’t great. But that was back when she was a squishy human who didn’t have any other defense. She wouldn’t even try it now. It was sort of really fucked up. Like waving a loaded gun in someone’s face.

“I work as a ‘psychic medium’ so sometimes if people bring in pictures of loved ones, I’ll make a tiny illusion of their face in a reflection or something. Little things to comfort people.” Sometimes it scared them, but mostly it brought people closure. She hoped, at least.

 So, she preferred to make kinder use of her power. Lazarus remained somewhat skeptical of the authenticity of her words, though the little details of trying to comfort others was... helpful. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he weighed how much trust he felt he could put into her. It was still a little too early to tell. She was still using her power as trickery... though it seemed to be the nature of the beast. Perhaps she couldn’t be blamed, but he remained wary.

 Idly, he reached up to brush his fingers through his damp hair, crushing the dainty crystals that had frozen there. He had run out of conversation to make, and too much silence would begin to gnaw at him. "Well. It’s supper time. Nice talkin’ to ya, Safiya." Her name felt strange and foreign in his mouth, but he managed not to mispronounce it, even despite his sudden discomfort.

Aw, he was going. She wondered how it was to feel so awkward. A brow stitched for a second, and she put a hesitant hand out. “Wait,” She said with a little smile.

“Let me do a reading on you.” Said with a warm smile. He probably wouldn’t trust her. She held out her hand anyway. She had a plan. Trust me. I do it for everyone I meet.” There was a meager attempt at using that bizarre power she was not granted with. Somehow, she knew it didn’t work. Maybe he would anyway. If not, whatever!

Fail because you can’t do that on higher levels, Safiya


 Her hand extended and he tensed slightly, eyeing it in case she tried to touch him. Instead, she asked for him to wait. Undeniably curious, he paused, listening. A reading? She asked for his trust, a request that made him want to instinctively do the exact opposite. He did not know her well enough to trust her.

 "Whadda you mean, a reading?" Even as he asked for clarification with genuine confusion, his brows came together in a wrinkled furrow of concern.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“A palm reading. Never had one done?” In one hundred and eighty five years? She intended to do pretty much everything she could if she was going to live that long, and beyond that.

“I can give you s fortune, or tell you something I see in your future.” She wiggled her brows, and her fingers as she gestured for him to extend his hand. “I don’t have to touch much.” She promised. He seemed weird about it, so.

 She clarified by calling it a palm reading, but it did little in the way of actually giving him any information on what it was. He didn’t understand how someone could read a palm, although he sort of suspected it might like “reading” tracks in the dirt.

 A fortune, a telling of the future. Lazarus didn’t believe it - he had never met someone who could tell the future in any magical capacity. He watched her hand, the way her fingers wiggles invitingly at him, frowning still. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want her to touch him. But...

 Slowly, almost reluctantly, he extended his hand for her to take, but he was ready to snap on her like a steel trap if she got any weirder. He watched her with a stern face and hard eyes, likely looking angry, but saying nothing.

Safiya grinned as he eventually extended his right hand. She only moved to press her fingers gently to the outside of it, coaxing him to open it completely so she could see the lines. The greatest thing about being a vampire was she could see them in hyper clarity. So much easier then squinting at them.

Okay. His heart line. She eyed it for a moment, it reached below his index finger, but toward his pinky she spied a circle in it. Depression or sadness. No brainer, really. He seemed reserved and sort of sad, so. Onto the head. More circles along that one. She frowned a bit. Emotional crisis. Yikes. The lifeline was broken into two, one sitting a bit closer toward the center of the palm than the other. A change in lifestyle. Hm.

“Sad.” She said almost inaudibly to herself. If there was any stock to put into these reading, he’d either been through or was going to go through a lot. She eyed for a fate line, but there wasn’t one. Still, that didn’t stop her from going through with her plan.

A finger moved to gently brush along a random line on his palm. “This one shows me you will agree to go on a hunt with a cute girl with curly hair one night.” She said softly, then pulled away to look up at him expectantly. “Weirdly specific.” A shrug.

 She was, at least, gentle with him. He was stiff, and while the muscles in his forearm and hand were tight and almost unwilling to move with her coaxing, his palm would eventually open up for her to observe. Tight-lipped, jaw set and shoulders up, he watched her closely as she stared at his hand. She really did look like she was seeing something in there, and after a few seconds, he would let his eyes travel down to his hand as well. What did she see that he couldn't?

 Sad. Lazarus frowned, looking away from the girl and his hand, up at the dark sky, from which snow still fluttered. What was sad? What could she see? How much? One of her dainty fingers ran along his palm, and he shuddered invisibly for the sensation. It was such a soft and sensual touch, and yet it almost made his skin crawl. He sort of glared at her, but the expression was more pained than angry. It softened some as she spoke and he scoffed, recoiling his hand from her and shoving it back into his pocket. Was that all she saw? It was a bunch of poppycock. He knew it.

 "Is that so," he drawled quietly, not without a trace of amusement in his voice. He was suddenly feeling tired, and a part of him longed for this interaction to end.

He was quick to pull away, and she did feel a little bad. Idly, she wondered what it was that made him so uncomfortable with touch. Maybe he just had one of those disorders. Maybe he was abused. Maybe he was just an asshole. There was never really any telling. But the fact still stood that he was cute and she could see that he could be actually enjoyable, if he just unclenched his asscheeks a little. Let loose, freckles.

“Mhm,” She nodded with a smile. “There’s other stuff there.” Her tone dropped a bit into something more serious. “Some of it, I think you know already. But I did see something about a change in lifestyle. Maybe that means being a little extroverted for a night?” She posed with a quirked brow and an encouraging smile.

 Other stuff. Lazarus, still rigid with discomfort and weariness, watched her quietly, eyebrows nestled in their questioning furrow as he waited for her to go on. He did his best to keep his unease from his face, experience a bit of whiplash between believing and not believing this fortune telling business. Whatever she knew, he didn't want her to know it.

 He chuffed quietly at her comment about a change in lifestyle. This, right here, not being locked in the same house for over a century, was a change in lifestyle. If it was true at all, if that was what she had seen and what some all-knowing source was telling her, then she was probably seeing it live in action, as far as he was concerned. But... change was constant, right?

 "Maybe," he said, somewhat warily, but eager to appease her for a little while. "But... not tonight."

A maybe was good enough!

“That’s the thing about fortunes,” She said with a wink. “They’re never specific. Any time.” She said with a shrug. “Doesn’t have to be tonight.” She was willing to let him leave now, sure she could get his number from Nasreen. With a little smile of finality, she raised a hand to wave.

“Have a nice evening, Lazarus.” And she walked away.

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