Christopher
Eliza sat in a small, slummy tavern- the room was dimly lit to the point that her features were entirely shrouded by the veil she wore atop her head, leaving her crimson lips on full display as her other features hid in the shadows. Eliza watched with an irksome expression as rowdy men yelled over eachother, as the room grew more and more tense. 

A pair of men seemed to be at the center of the commotion, one was tall and slender with black hair, the other small and stocky with a wild beard. The two men were being held back by other patrons of the bar, spit spewing from their wretched mouths as they screamed at the other. 

"KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY DAUGHTER!"

Screamed the bearded man. The veins on his forehead bulging to the point Eliza worried they would burst. 

"SHE-"

Before the taller, admittedly more handsome man could speak- the bearded man broke free of the grasp holding him back and pounced onto the other man like a gorilla. 

Chaos was induced in the tavern as a group brawl seemed to manifest in mere milliseconds. Punches were thrown all around, men piling on to each other like savages. Mugs were spilt as men were thrown onto tables, food flew onto the floor as people began throwing plates. 

Eliza simply watched, her crimson eyes peering at the beautiful chaos before her as the scent of blood flooded her nostrils- her mouth watering with hunger. The countess seemed unbothered as a man was thrown onto her table, her expression remaining calm even as another piled onto him, collapsing the table before her until the two men hit the ground with a large thud. 

Eliza then gracefully stood to her feet, her black dress' fabric billowing behind her as she quickly shifted to the only quiet corner of the tavern. Swishing her glass of- *Wine(?)* Once she knew she was out of harms way, not that any of them could leave a scratch on her porcelain body.
Jefferey
The night had certainly gone a strange way. Thyri could never stand the winter nights outdoors, and with the nights only growing colder, she had strayed from the path once again. Skipping out on her usual inn, she had dropped into another. The name of the place escaped her, but she recognized it as a fairly popular place with the local scoundrels and workers from the port.

The blacksmith had at first believed the place to be going through a calmly night, with few patrons during the usual rush. It had brought her into a false sense of safety, and now she found herself in the damning middle of it all. Trying to enjoy a shoddy meal in a place like this? Practically impossible. Then it grew even worse.

The moment the brawl broke out was the point she believed best to get out of the tavern as soon as she could.

She was quick to try and make her way to the exit, though soon found herself being blocked by a pair of bodies on the floor.

A look of disgust and annoyance appeared on her face as she saw the poor lad's face being pummeled in, but this was not her fight, nor had she drunk enough to get into such a stupor. Thyri was about to simply go around the two when a yelp escaped her. Seemed like some arrogant bastard had decided to take advantage of the confusion and grabbed a handful of her hair before giving quite a violent yank.

Thyri absolutely *Despised* Her hair being touched. Many would say it was a prideful feeling, but it was her decision. Yet now, the muscular woman found herself being dragged backwards into one of the darker areas of the tavern, likely full of scumbags and brawlers.

"Get yer damn 'ands off me!"

Her loud and pained shout went mostly ignored, trapped underneath the similar sounds of the brawl. Anyone would have simply believed it to be a shout of anger. As she tried to grab onto the hands that held her hair, she found herself stumbling backwards, trying to avoid falling onto her ass and having her hair take her entire weight.
Christopher
Eliza watched the commotion unfold before her like a beautiful flower unfolding to reveal a putrid aroma of sweat and blood- violence was a guilty pleasure of hers after all. Eliza was just about to take a swig of the crimson nectar that swished within her ornate wine glass as she watched a man grab ahold of a girls hair. Flooded with rage Eliza crushed the glass in her infuriated grasp as the scarlet liquid soaked her gloved hand and dripped onto the floor. Her crimson eyes turned thin and angular, like a cat eyeing its prey from the shadows. Eliza stopped herself as her skeleton wanted to instinctively jump out of her own flesh, the rage of seeing a man lay his hands on a woman bubbling to the surface until she couldn't stand it anymore. Careful not to reveal her identity, nor her *Affliction* Eliza swiftly made her way over to Thyri at an unnatural speed- like a black and scarlet shooting star zooming across the sky. 

Once Eliza was beside Thyri and the soon to be pile of flesh, Eliza grabbed ahold of the man's arm. Her grip was unnaturally powerful for her thin physique, her manicured fingertips probing his flesh with enough force that one nerve impulsive could pierce his flesh and crush his puny bones. Eliza locked eyes with the man, her expression brimming with rage and a perverse hunger as she interrogated him with her sickeningly sweet gaze. 

"Surely you wouldn't grab ahold of a young lady's hair?"

Eliza then looked over to Thyri, her intimidating aura replaced with one of motherly love and empathy as their eyes met. After a brief gaze into the girls eyes Eliza's head shot back over to the man, the hand not firmly grasping his wrist melting away to reveal bare ivory bone. She then raised her boney hand to the man's throat, her stark white boney fingers wrapping around his throat in a sensual yet ravenous manner as her fingertips aggressively probed the back of his neck. Normally she would never reveal her abilities in such a public setting

But the commotion and intense noise shielded her from prying eyes. 

Eliza then leaned close to the man, her soft ivory skin gently brushing against his rugged cheek as she whispered into his ear. 

"*Flee*"
Jefferey
Thyri was quite intent on beating the damned bastard to a pulp the moment she was released. She couldn't help a flash of fear run through her mind however, if the scoundrel was alone, she was confident in her abilities. But dealing with a group was quite a different story. Her hands flung out with intent and anger behind them. Luckily, it seemed like her own strength wasn't much needed as the man's grip was suddenly released. An angered and pained shout escaped the man and as Thyri flung around, rage within her eyes, she finally got a look at the man. He was an unsightly thing, clearly a sailor from the uniform. A sunburnt face with a greying moustache met with blisters and ingrown hairs, one of his eyes was missing, either from an accident or perhaps another fight.

Either way, Thyri was certain only a blind and dumb lady would lay with such a man.

Despite her rage, she did notice that someone had actually come to her rescue. Her eyes trailed up the arm, before going wide with surprise at the sight of the individual. An oddly beautiful woman within the confines of such a hellish tavern? For a moment, she believed herself to simply be dreaming. Though, she was quickly thrown out of her thoughts by the old codger's ranting. Even from here, she could smell the rancid breath of the bastard.

***"Git yur fecking mitts ofa me ya wench!"*** Say what you would about the man, he had a pair of lungs on him. Spittle flying out as he shouted, trying his damnedest to get out of Eliza's hold.

The blacksmith was ready to throw a strike directly at the man's throat before she noticed something oddly pale and boney approaching the man. Her brow furrowed before she froze in shock as she finally took in what it was. A skeletal hand reaching up to grasp onto the sailor's neck. It was easy to see the sweat form and the colour drain from his skin. It almost looked like he had passed away then and there.
.

His efforts in getting away seemed to have doubled from the mere sight, terror stuck within his eyes before the singular word registered in his mind. One could see the gears working within his mind to actual gain even a seed of understanding. After a moment frozen in fear, he gave a nodd and pushed away as best he could, intent of running far from the tavern. Perhaps he would find himself back on whatever boat he had arrived on, seeking solace within another land.

Thyri herself had taken a step back in shock. In her lifetime, she had never seen such a thing before. Though, she certainly wasn't the kind to run away from her saviour just because of a simple sight. People came in all shapes and sizes, and each likely had something odd about them. Though, she couldn't help but try to rationalize an answer to what she had seen. Soft amber eyes swept over the fair lady in front of her. Perhaps she was drunker than she realized? Perhaps an illusion? There had to be some sort of answer to what she had seen.

"I.. Er... Thank you..?"

Stuttering out some words, after a moment she prayed that she hadn't been rude with the simple words.
Christopher
Eliza gave a soft smile to Thyri, her blood soaked lips parting to reveal a perfect set of pearly white teeth- accompanied by a pair of unnaturally long and sharp canines that painted a clear picture of her true nature, of her vampirism. 

"It was my pleasure darling, if he had touched mine he would be nothing but a peeled apple moments ago."

Eliza glanced over to the pathetic man as he scurried out of the tavern, stumbling over fallen men and running into the wall before looking back at Eliza and Thyri one more time- then screaming as he ran out of the tavern. 

"WITCHES!"

Eliza rolled her eyes, her expression annoyed yet relived that he went with witch instead of vampire- she had even gotten zombie before, that caused quite the scene... The vampire then locked eyes with Thyri, her eyes telling a thousand words as patrons of the tavern suddenly stopped their fighting and all looked at the pair with suspicious and ignorant eyes. An elf then spoke, his tone accusatory and naive.

"*It was them! They caused the fight! Using their witchy...(?) powers!*"

The crowd all laughed before shifting their undivided attention to the unlikely pair of women who were unfortunately cornered in the tavern. Eliza sighed before speaking to her circumstantial ally that stood beside her. 

"Prepare yourself child, you know what they do to *Witches*."

Eliza frowned at the thought of her demise being at the hands of these mongrels, at the thought of a young girl perishing because of her impulsive decision. Her frown then climbed up her cheeks into a cunning smile before she quietly uttered to Thyri. 

"Hold your breath." 

Eliza's skeletal hand then reformed into one of flesh and muscle as liquified blood from her wrists slithered in between the crevasses of her bone, interlacing until a perfect hand was fully formed. Eliza's eyes then seemed to flash a deep vermillion as her hand snapped into a rigid and uncomfortable position as the flesh of her hand seemed to evaporate