Vee's large, elf-like ears picked up her attacker's voice. 'Filthy bloodsucker?' She said in a gargling, trilling voice, as she was underwater. 'I eat fish.' She said, looking somewhat sad and pathetic. 'Nor am I filthy. This water is quite clean.' Vee swam toward where she usually slept. A sunken and upturned fishing boat, it's many holes patched up with clumps of seaweed. She swam under it, feeling safe. 'I will NEVER go back up to that awful place again.' She thought to herself, her loosely curled hair spinning in the waves. She lied. She had said that the previous times but she always ended up going back up, compelled by the city and impressed by it's lights.
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Leaping down from the building's roof, Alistair wound up spending his wages on vodka in a nightclub. Again. He didn't have that much else to spend it on. His home during the day was a dark room with boarded up windows in a disused flour mill by the riverside. It was ideal really. But he didn't need to spend his wages on decorating because who would he be bringing back to it any time soon? His room contained a battered sofa, a large crate containing a mattress, which was his makeshift coffin, some assorted candles, a minibar, hair straighteners and some 'jazz' mags. Not exactly the most romantic setting. He sighed a little, downing his vodka. 'I don't seem to have much going for me.' He said in his deep, smooth, dreamy voice.