“Geez...” that was all that Liza could say.

She had listened as Alice described the events of the ball, leaned against the front door arms crossed as Alice regaled on her chaotic night on the town.
Despite all Alice told her, Liza now had even more questions. This Liam man, the one who had turned Alice, did he actually know she would be at the ball? Impossible. It had to be a sheer coincidence. And the two Vampires that Alice said were there, hunting this man, who were they? And what of Dalton, did he have any hand in this?

This girl certainly knows how to find trouble, I should never have let her go to that ball. Liza thought grimly.

Liza walked past Alice over to the window, peering out toward the golden tinted sky. The sun itself was blocked by the distant skyscrapers, though it’s bright yellow rays peeked over the rooftops in the distance. Liza casually pulled down the shades, darkening the small apartment slightly and then looked to Alice, sitting there on her bed.

Liza leaned against the wall by the window and then spoke up,”This Liam guy, he seems to be pretty obsessed with you, exposing himself like that. You mentioned two Vampires that seemed to be hunting him, did you catch their names? And more importantly, where was Dalton this whole time? Wasn’t he with you? He was supposed to be watching over you. Did he even know what was going on?”

Alice braced herself for the demand that she leave. That she was putting the woman in even more danger. Which in a sense she very much was! Guilt gnawed at the tailor's soul- or lack thereof- as she twisted her hands about one another. So when Liza asked her questions, Alice was grateful. They were easy to answer though it made her heart ache for the thought of Dalton. "Liam... Desires me, my blood, greatly." Alice admitted, fear creeping into her voice. "I'm afraid he might come after you, or hurt you to get to me. He is certainly capable."

For all that Alice wish she could bypass the questions Liza was posing to her. She did owe the waitress and elder vampire a great deal. For Liza had opened her home and her blood-pantry to the newly turned Alice. A debt that Alice would do anything to repay. Though Alice would gladly do most anything for Liza in sight that she had been so helpful and had become a solid cornerstone to Alice's new life. "Aleera and Thomas. They spoke of something called Strum... Strumhold? Strumghost? Strumghiest?" Alice shook her head. "Something along the lines of that." The woman admitted with an apologetic look. "I was rather more concerned with making my escape."

Her breathe caught as Liza asked of Dalton and Alice felt a look of sheer guilt cross over her face. "He was with Thomas when I ran into Enduro- Liam." The tailor stated honestly, unable and unwilling to lie to the woman. "They were chatting about something, though he did stop Liam from getting to me." And had stopped her from leaving when they had been done using her as bait, but that was beside the point. Liza did not need to know the theory Alice had concocted on her way back to the small apartment.

Liza listened intently at Alice’s explanation.

Thomas and Aleera...I swear I’ve heard those names somewhere. But where? Liza was mentally kicking herself for her short memory, at least regarding those two names. She stepped away from the wall and casually worked over next to the desk across the room, her arms crossed over her chest.

So, Dalton knows these two. At least he stopped this Liam guy from getting Alice. Still... Those two names tugged at Liza’s mind. Where had she heard them before? And that other name Alice mentioned, or at least tried to remember it seemed.

“Hmmm...” She mumbled aloud.
Strumhold? Strumghost? Sturmgheist? Sturmgeist? Sturmgeist!
Liza felt a heavy wave roll through her body as realization struck her.
Wobbling slightly at her knees, she pulled out the desk chair and turned it around, facing it towards Alice and then taking a seat. She crossed her legs and folded her arms against her chest once more. As best she tried, she couldn’t conceal the look of concern on her face. After a brief composition, she spoke.

“Um, well Alice, as far as those first two names, while I admit they do ring a bell, I’m afraid I can’t put my finger on them exactly. It’s interesting that they would know Dalton however. But,” she hesitated slightly before continuing,”Sturmgeist, if that’s what you heard, is, well....he is one of the oldest known Vampires living in the United States, Alice.”

Liza paused for a minute to let her words sink in before continuing,
“His full name is Brakt von Sturmgeist. He’s lived in America for several decades now, supposedly he immigrated here after the Second World War.
He’s said to have lived in eastern Germany for many centuries, back to the barbarian age or whatever. He and his entire coven of Vampires live here in New York, somewhere. If the name ‘Sturmgeist’ is actually what you heard, then it seems that this Thomas and Aleera could very well be part of his coven. And it seems that they want this Liam guy dead. If this Liam of yours has pissed off Brakt Von Sturmgeist and his coven, then he’s playing a dangerous game indeed. But Dalton, how does he fit into this? Was you and he being there just a coincidence or...?”

Green eyes blinked in alarm as Lisa stumbled into a chair, relieved the woman was sitting. Though the relief was sh9rt lived as a concerned look flickered across the woman's face. Alice stiffened, alert and wary of what could possibly coming. For surely Lisa would see that she indeed need to leave New York, the city at least!

But as Lisa explained exactly who this Strumgeist was, Alice found herself sharing her mentor's worry. Why did such a vampire as Liam anger Strumgeist? Was it anger? They had said they were returning him to this powerful being. Not that they were killing him exactly. Too many questions flickered through the tailor's mind. Answers were a precious commodity and she desired more than the meager train she was receiving. "Dalton seemed to know them, and desire Liam's death as well." Alice admitted, her hands twisting about each other in fright. "But, Lisa I need to leave this city. I came here to beg for one last day's rest then I was going to flee. I don't want Liam to get the idea to hurt you." The younger vampiress admitted, her cheeks flaming as she looked down in shame. "I don't want to be his blood doll, or his lover. Her would seek that from me in trade for your well being."

Liza shifted slightly in her seat, uncrossing her arms and resting her hands on her knees. So, Dalton was after this Liam Enduro too. But why? It made no sense. Liza knew Dalton, weller than she wished truly, and he wasn’t really the committed type. Wether it was some hair-brained Vampire chase, or affairs of the heart, Dalton was so lacking in commitment it was actually quite pathetic. If everything Alice was saying was true, then the legendary Sturmgeist must have made some kind of pact with Dalton, which again, Dalton wasn’t the committed type, even if he had something to gain at times.

This whole ordeal was making Liza’s head spin just trying to piece it together. Although, her ears perked and her mind leveled when Alice mentioned leaving the city. She looked at Alice with an expression of concern.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Alice?” She asked,”Your going to just run away? Your going to leave your whole life behind and flee? Look, im sorry if I sound cold, but that’s...weak.”

Liza regretted her words as soon as she said them. She stood up from her chair and approached Alice, stopping just in front of her.
“Look,” she said, trying to be more careful with her words now,”where will you go? Do you even have enough money to start over? What will you do? Live in the streets and alleys, living off of rats and alley cats? Having to face Inquisitors and territorial Vampires all alone?”

Alice flinched at the word 'weak', her eyes dropping as she did not deny that fact. She had always run away from her problems. Her family for one example. Liam for another. "I'm not like you. Not like the other vampires." The tailor said in a quiet voice, her dark tresses falling about her too pale face. "I can't fight, and killing... It is abhorrent to me. I understand why it was necessary to kill the man in the ally." Her reference to when Liza had first taken the newly made vampiress under her wing. "But I don't have to like it observe it." Her voice never rose nor wavered. "When Aleera moved to kill Liam- yes, they could have- I declared I would have nothing to do with it."

Her shoulders hunched inwards on herself, as she regretted those words. Would they put Liza in danger now? "I said things that struck Dalton to the quick and distracted Aleera and Thomas- though that was not my intention. I merely wanted to be away. Something all three were against and Dalton was enforcing." There, the truth of it was out. Her green eyes grew damp as a old rage burned behind the angry tears. "Aleera spilled wine on my dress to try and get me to take my mask off. She offered vengence."

"I accepted. Merely asking for aid the return of my old life. To making people beautiful in my own way once more." Alice's voice sounded bitter to her own ears. "So I lured him to a balcony with the scent of my blood." Her sharp laughter was hard and very brief. "As if he could refuse. My blood is to him a lodestone. His desire for me drove him against two inquisitors, and now against two vampires and Dalton-? Is he a vampire or some other sort of 'Nightborn'?" Her gaze flickered sadly. "Yes, that is what the cruel bitch Aleera called us. Nightborn. I despise her. She ruined my dress instead of merely asking or taking a bargain. She shares my feelings for myself I believe." The woman admitted, her hands still wringing nervously. "The rest of my story is as I told you. Liam escaped... Much to my displeasure. Dalton was a friend whom I stung with barbed words I thought I had left with my family. And Now some Strumgeist loyal vampires are seeking Liam and I am all but caught in the middle!"

Alice dropped her face into her hands, unable to bear the strain any longer. "I am no fighter, nor killer. I was born to a political and industrial family. Who sought prestige in business. So when my fashion choices became so odd... They gave the ultimatum of conformity or disownment. If I could not make it on my own in this world I would have to bend to their wills. But I did it. I made it. Only to have some mad vampire seeking me for bed and blood!" Alice gave a soft sob. "I run, I do not fight. For that is not my way! If I do not leave this city? What if Liam should come to you? Or you get pulled into the middle of this feud?!" Her dark hair flew as the tailor shook her head in the negative. "I could not bring such a fate upon you, when you have done naught but aid me. I would bear this guilt until the stars ceased or my life- or death- ended."

Liza sighed woefully, her pity for Alice throbbing within. How the young Vampiress before her reminded Liza so much of herself a decade ago. Lost, afraid, confused, this and so much more rended at Liza’s heart and mind all those years ago. But no longer, Liza had grown strong through the years, she had adapted, she had learned to survive. Granted Liza had always been strong-willed and gritty in her youth, a tomboy of a girl who had grown up in a broken home. Survival and being self-sufficient had always been part of who she was. Alice too it seemed had been on the outs with her family. But unlike Liza, it was clear Alice was the passive type, the type who would sooner cower in a corner and accept death over fighting for survival to the very end.
Confliction writhed within Liza, so much of Liza pitied Alice, it longed to help her and protect her. A smaller part within Liza mocked Alice, seeing her as pathetic and worthless of the life she would so easily surrender. This more sinister side burned deep within Liza, a side that had been kindled long ago.

Liza stood silent, arms at her side as Alice wept before her. Like someone lost in the black depths of unsurity, or a weakling. Liza shook her last thoughts away, slightly ashamed at her leery attitude towards Alice. Regardless of her method of reaction or handing things, she’s lost in a strange new world, strange people are after her, she needs help. I never had anyone to help me, even before becoming a Vampire. I guess that’s part of my problem. Liza thought bitterly.

Liza gently took hold of Alice’s left arm, holding firmly, and sat on the bed beside her. She spoke,”You asked about Dalton. Dalton isn’t a Vampire, he...he’s a Werewolf. I’m assuming he didn’t completely change form at the ball, you probably just saw his eyes. Huh, good thing too. Werewolves are quite...awing in beast form. Like in those cheesy black and white wolf-man movies from the sixties.”

Liza released Alice’s arm and placed her hands on her knees, looking around to Alice,”And as for ‘Liam Enduro’, I’m not worried about him. He wouldn’t be the first blood-slash-sex crazed Vampire I’ve handled before.” She ended with a joking smirk.

“Alice,” she continued,”if your solely worried about me don’t be. I can take care of myself. But, I can’t watch you twenty-four seven true enough. Your the one to be worried about, no offense. If you really, honestly think you’ll be safer from Liam by leaving the city, the state even, then I won’t stop you. But Alice, if you leave, you’ll be all alone. You’ll have no one to help you or watch your back. It’ll be you versus the world. Both worlds.
New York City is my home, I love my job, my coworkers are my mortal family, I won’t leave them or my home behind. Do you even know where your going to go?
Pittsburg? Boston? Saint Louis? Los Angeles?”

Alice shook her head, her eyes a confused mix of fury and sorrow. The former was for the bad hand life had dealt her in the last weeks. The latter, for her own weakness and ineptitude. Oh, if this was a political situation Alice would skirt about the borders with ease and little issue. The events of the ball had shown her it was not merely words, but knives and blood. Both things she had never had to dealt with. "A small town or something." Alice admitted, fully aware of the folly. "Some place where I would hear about strangers and be able to leave before they found me?" Her plan was absolute garbage. For Alice's knowledge came from books, her real world experience was limited to her career, shop and the human life she had lived.

Using the heel of her hand to knock tears to the side, the woman sighed heavily. Liza was correct, the woman could very well take care of herself. It was Alice who was the weak link and thus a liability. "He was able to take on two vampires, and escape. Albeit I did aid him unintentionally." Her words were not meant to doubt the woman's abilities, but rather to warn of exactly what Liam was capable of. "And I would never ask you to leave your life for me. You've already offered me so much already!" Her eyes sparked with indignation at the very mention of such a thing.

But it made sense, Alice thought. That Dalton was a werewolf. Running a hand through her hair Alice forced herself to focus on the facts before her. As if they were some obscure design. "I'm terribly sorry I'm such a mess right now." The tailor shot Liza a apologetic and slightly calculating look. A look she had worn when designing a piece of clothing when something was just not fitting right. It bordered on frustration, but there was a patient calmness to it. "There's just too many questions. Too little answers. Why does my blood attract Liam so? What does Strumgeist want with that bastard? When can I possible return to my shop or even move about freely again! Not to mention what else is out there aside from werewolves and vampires and their hunters?! How did Liam escape from a balcony so high up?"

Standing the woman paced her heels clacking on the floor with sharp and decisive steps. Not loud enough to bother a neighbor but they underlined the woman's mood. Solid and sharp. Not the light pattering that would often be heard about the Timeless Tailor. The riled irritation of that matter brought Alice's slight edge to the fore. "And where do I send the bill to that Aleera for the ruination of my gown! Though it was not one of my better works, there were better ways to gain my attention or participation than spilling wine!" Typical of the tailor her riled temper was not for herself but rather the clothes she worked so hard to make. Green eyes locked onto Liza as she gave a very potent snarl. "You tell Dalton is he does not want to become a muff, he ought to tell Aleera I expect payment for that grievous crime, if you would please. Wine! Red wine at that!" The dark haired woman shook her head in disgust. "If they had been reasonable when they approached me and had not stopped me form leaving, they could have had the bastard and good for them! They only have themselves to blame!" The younger vampire pointed out, her hand flickering up to wipe away tears that still seeped from the stress, sorrow and rage. She needed to stop crying, for when did tears fix anything? "Oh, I despise that woman!" Alice did not swear as a general rule, but Aleera seemed to test the tailor as the word woman could be easily replaced for the actual way Alice's tone describe the sinful wench! For there was no greater crime than the destruction of clothes- especially those of her make!

Despite the situation at hand, Liza could only snort in slight humor.
“God forbid we not rant about soiled clothing.” Liza mumbled just loudly enough to be heard, rolling her eyes all about as she did.

She stood from the bed and walked past Alice over to the fridge, opening it and taking out a plump packet of blood, crimson even in the dark apartment. She lay it on the small counter nearby and then reached back into the fridge, fishing her hands around for something in particular.

“Well Alice, to answer one of your questions,” Liza said,”aside from Vampires and werewolves, there are also witches, warlocks, and supposedly gargoyles.
To answer another question of yours, about returning to your shop, well, I’m not sure. Maybe in a few days or weeks, maybe a decade, maybe never. Or just open a new one someday.”

Liza stepped back and closed the fridge door with her bare foot. In her hands she carried what looked like a very small packaged chicken or duck, wrapped tightly in plastic. She lay it right next to the packet of blood, both crammed tightly into the tiny counter. She then reached for a boiler at the back of the stove near the counter.
“And,” she said,”as for your question on how Liam escaped from such a high balcony, I dunno’, I wasn’t there to judge. Nor do I know why the most powerful and ancient Vampire in New York wants his head. I can tell you that he’s obviously quite strong, Liam I mean, outmatched three to one and still escaping. He’s not very smart though, out on the hunt for blood at such a public and crowded event. Perhaps that’s why he’s being pursued. Other Vampires tend not to take it nicely when their own act sloppy and risk exposing the existence of their entire kind.”

As she talked, Liza filled the boiler with water, and then set it on the front burner of the stove, turning on the flame.

Alice sank back into her former seat on the bed as Liza began to make something. Her green eyes curious as she gave a small prim huff of disapproval. "A soiled dress that I made to establish my style and skills. It's a walking advertisement." There was a sly look to the tailor as she studied Liza. The older vampire had the body and the look to model for her, and it was a topic Alice had pointed out several times over in the last week. Thought there appeared to be a whole host of creatures that stalked the night, something that worried Alice. But as she dwelled upon Liza's comment about her shop may taking more than a decade to gain back, the woman fell quiet.

This was for two reasons. One was the curiosity of what her benefactor was doing with the bird meat and the blood. The other bit was the simple fact that Alice was plotting. Her slim fingers tapping softly as she mussed, her green eyes watching but her mind elsewhere. Plucking thread and fabric and piercing an idea. "Are there many Nightcreatures?" The woman asked suddenly, standing in a single smooth motion as she strode over to the table.

Plucking a pen from the desk and a clean sheet of paper. The pen swirling across the page in a formal address as Alice's practiced hand slowly wrote out a invoice for the damaged dress. Declaring the thing beyond salvageable but of no great loss as it had been a minor piece. Thus she marked it's price to be just enough to cover the materials- and not the time- it had taken to make it. The price was low and quite reasonable. However there was no sway in the fact the tailor expected the damages to paid for for. As though it was the most grievous of crimes. Folding the paper so that it could not be read without breaking the tape Alice placed over it. Her signature carefully written out as the seal. The front was addressed to merely 'Aleera of the Silver Dress'. Withing the invoice was a note as well, apologizing for the lack of a proper seal and complimenting the woman on her 'darling' outfit this note far more private and friendly than the tailor's invoice. But it was as Alice had stated, this was business. More however it was her life's work.

"If you could deliver that to Dalton and see to it he delivers it lest I decide to take him to task for manhandling me?" The woman stated with a firm note in her voice the only entered when clothes were involved. Her eyes slowly moved back to Liza as the pen was carefully put away. "And I believe, it is time for me to learn the basics of defense at least. It seems- and would I be correct in presuming?- that fighting will be a common thing among this new world?" Her green eyes showed fear at what she was asking, but there was a idea at work. She had lost her ability to return to her old life for a time. So she would start her business a new and so it would begin in understanding the needs of other immortals for their choice of clothing. Human fashion was a quick and fleeting thing, something Alice could keep up with easily. "If I can't return to the Timeless, than I shall remake it again. It would not be the first time I have had to do such." No, it would be the second. The first time her money had been taken from her by her mother and father in her youth. Nothing special to it, just a teenager's bad luck to have parents who thought merely of the future they desired.

“The technical term is Nightborn,”Liza corrected, her back to Alice as she stirred away at the boiling bird before her with a wooden spoon,”and as I said, Vampires, Werewolves, and supposedly Gargoyles. Witches and warlocks deal with our kind, though they are not Nightborn, but magicians, a whole other bunch.”

Liza stirred away as the small chicken, identifiable by smell, that simmered away in the bubbling water. She tossed in pinches of salt and light touches of pepper. While Alice scribbled away at something over at the small desk across the room, Liza tended to the cooking meal, and was nearly finished when Alice started on again about her dress and delivering a letter of owes to Dalton.
Liza took a sharp breath, turned away from the stove briskly, took the taped up letter from Alice, and ripped it in half slowly, letting the pieces fall to the floor.

She turned back to the stove and, as she did, said,”Well, I’m no black belt, but I can show you basic self defense yes. How to throw a punch, launch a kick, dodge an attack, the basics. Trust me, you’ll need to learn to defend yourself and how to fight now.”

Liza lifted the boiled chicken from the pot with a pair of tongs and lay it on a cutting board on the counter, seizing a large knife from within a drawer in front of her. She also reached over and grabbed hold of the packet of blood from nearby.

Alice watched in interest at what Liza was doing. While she was miffed at the woman's actions over her business, Alice did understand it in a sense. After all, Aleera was= to Alice's mind at least- a dangerous vampire of a dangerous coven. However, her brow furrowed as her green eyes watched the blood being picked from the counter. However, Alice still was miffed. It was her business, quite literally. She was a tailor and Aleera had broken a product, an advertisement of sorts.

Her fingers tapped a mindless and slow tune on the desk. "I will not be any good at that." Alice noted in a cooled voice. "Fighting for me is the pen and the words. The political systems of business." The green eyes flickered over to the bag she had brought with her from her shop. "One of the many reasons I left my family to begin with and now I'm being dragged into it again. With the exception that I will need to fight." A sneer graced the timid Tailor's face as she thought of Aleera and the notion of fighting. It seemed barbaric to the woman. Pointless, and more than that it risked damaging her precious clothes.

Liza couldn’t help but huff at Alice’s negative statement regarding fighting, though only slightly, and she kept her statement to herself. She listened to Alice as she worked on the food before her, saying nothing. Liza sliced open the bag of blood and seemingly poured it all over the top of the chicken, and then reached for the salt and pepper, dashing some all across the blood soaked chicken. She then reached for a bottle of paprika nearby and likewise strew it across the chicken. She then reached into the cabinet above her and withdrew a pair of small glass plates, closing the cabinet afterward.

A moment later, after swift chops with her knife, Liza stepped back from the counter and turned toward Alice. She held in her hands a plate of diced Cornish game hen, coated in blood and thoroughly seasoned. Liza extended the plate toward Alice, offfering it to her.

“It’s not Parisian gourmet but I think it’ll be satisfying. I coated it in blood so you’ll still be getting ‘nutritional value’ from the meal. ‘Beats the hell out of barbecue sauce.”

Alice blinked and tilted her head curiously. For she had not known you could cook so with blood. But it was not a bad idea and gave new meaning to the term 'Bloody Mary'. Her lips twitched in amusement at the thought as a delicate hand took the plate. "Thank you." Her voice was more subdued as she tucked her legs beneath her. Her silverware clicking as she began to nibbled at the much needed blood. "I'm sorry to have worried you." The young fledgling vampire shot Liza an apologetic look, her green eyes sorrowful. In all honesty the woman was still considering leaving for Liza's sake.

But there was too much unknown and staying was her only choice. Revenge was looking impossible and out of her reach. Fighting seemed the only way to get it. A thought which made Alice sigh in forlorn melancholy. Yet another thought occurred to her, turning her green gaze shyly towards the older vampire Alice chewed her lip in thought. "How does one pull weapons from seemingly no where?" It was reasonable, for no where could Aleera had hidden that knife without Alice noticing! Tailoring had a few benefits it seemed in this world of the night.

Liza froze slightly at Alice’s words.
“Pull weapons from nowhere?” She asked confused.
Whatever is she talking about?
Liza thought to herself on Alice’s words as she turned back to the stove.
She poured out the used water into the sink and turned off the burners, then began washing the utensils.

“What exactly are you talking about?” Liza said with a slightly demanding tone. She set the boiler into the sink to rinse off under the water, then reached over for a fork and her own plate of food. She leaned with her back against the counter as she dug into her food, looking inquiringly at Alice.

Alice frowned and shook her head. "I know dresses, but weapons I do not." The tailor admitted, her fingers plucking absently at a piece of paper and pen. The ink swirling ab9ut the page as a dress, most likely for a funeral, took form. It's long draping skirt, the sleeves that hugged the arms of the figure, and the high neck. But here and there were small details. Bits of false gems and jewels to give a bit of life in a time of woe. Black lace and ribbons gave texture without taking from the tragedy. "I do not see how that-" Her eyes burned crimson in utter rage for such was the tailor's delight in clothing and care for it. "Aleera- could hide one without me noticing. Her dress was rather... spentacular." A sour note underline just what Alice thought of the dress. A beautiful creation, though one she could out do, that outshines her own cheaply bought and quickly made work. Which then had been stained by the horrid woman.

“Hmm,” Liza mumbled thoughtfully as she listened to Alice,”more than likely she had a hidden sheathe. I mean, I assume this was a knife you mean. A switchblade or a razor?”

She dug into her bloody dish, still leaned against the counter behind her.
She picked at chunks of meat, shoveling small fork fulls into her mouth as she awaited Alice’s response.
Knows nothing about weapons. Well, that’ll have to change, if she wants to survive. Poor Alice. She can’t run for all of eternity, she won’t last half a decade, if even that long, if she doesn’t learn to defend herself some way. Liz’s somewhat admired the flavor of her dish, pleased at it’s overall taste, though she felt that she had added maybe a bit too much salt.
She mentally shrugged and ate away at her plate of food.

Alice shook her head in the negative, nibbling at her lips. "No, not little at all. Rather the one Liam had was eight inches, perhaps? It was very ornate." The tailor admitted, with a slightly admiring look. For while she could hate the man, she did respect artwork in any form. Twirling a finger in her curling dark lock, the woman considered the other weapons as she nibbled at the dish. She honestly preferred this to straight blood. It made her feel almost normal.

Something that went a long way in this new world. Savoring it, the small tailor gave Liza an apologetic look. "I enjoyed your dish." Alice gave a small smile, trying to ease the worry and rough feelings. "I've seen switchblades and razors." Alice's eyes appeared troubled as she seemed to think hard upon the issue. "Some of the more violent and urban designs feature models holding them." The explanation was utterly true. Alice in fact had to look up what they were and had been slightly horrified by them. But they had given her a wonderful Halloween line a few years back.

“I gotcha.” Liza said casually, as she forked down the last of her dish.
Several small pecks of meat and gobs of blood were smeared across her plate, which she poked and raked at with her fingers, then inserted them into her mouth consuming the last of her dish.

She thanked Alice on her compliment of her cooking with a small smile.
Though Liza wasn’t a gourmet chef, she knew how to prepare certain foods to a satisfactory degree. I’m truth she wished she could cook better than she did, but had never really found time to perfect the art of food making.
She turned and slipped her dish and utensil into the sink, casually looking over to the window as the golden rays of morning sunlight streamed into her small apartment.

“Alice,” she said,”why don’t you try to get some rest? You look like your worn down pretty bad. You should try and get some sleep and then we can talk more about what to do tonight. I’ll call in at Benny’s and say I have a cold and can’t come in tonight. I’ve only missed one day in the last two months anyway, and I have plenty of ‘sick leave’ saved up. I’ll stay here with you tonight.”

Alice hesitated slightly at the mention of 'sick leave'. She had always worked through her own illness- only those that she truly could not work through laid her up in bed. Even then she often got a sketch or two of a new idea. Not very good ones, but it was something. Better than nothing as Alice thought. Looking about the tailor bit her lip unsure if Liza could afford it. "Are you sure?" In all honesty she was regretting the offer to learn how to fight. That more than anything was scaring her.

But she nodded weakly. Not wanting to offend her host and current protector. So she went about her usual routine before bed, pressing a lovely scarf into Liza's hands as thanks. It was something she had made a few years ago, but it was soft and thick. Perfect for the weather of New York City. Settling herself into the bed, Alice found sleep was elusive as fear traced up and down her spine but she managed after a time.