<ul><span style="font-family: new times roman;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">"I say sir, you sure keep fine company. And I thank you for that deterrent you have provided me. Well played."</span></span><br/><br/>As the female's digits reached inside one of his pockets, a broad smile graced the man's features and he lowered his eyelids to look at her, shaking his head. This simple, sneaky gesture brought back so many memories of that very first snowy night he stumbled upon the girl, in New York. His attention shifted to the other man and Solas nodded. <span style="color: #BFBFBF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">''This fine company is unlike any other I have known, Sir. You are indeed, very welcome. No need to thank me, please."</span></span></span> With a faint smile, the Fallen turned to look at the bartender. <span style="color: #BFBFBF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">''Courvoisier, please, in a Spherical or Tulip glass, it doesn't matter.''</span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BFBFBF">''I have sensed something very familiar about you too.''</span></span></span> Solas began, hand reaching out to gently caress Millicient's back whilst the expected liquor is being poured into the glass. The man held the cognac filled Tulip glass and glanced down at the color, delighting in the reddish golden color of the liquid. Good quality and especially if it's old cognac aged in French oak barrels, was something the man appreciated a lot. After swirling the glass in his hand, the man took a sniff of the liquid and smiled, raising his glass, his other hand covering his heart. <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BFBFBF">''Very well said, Aaron.. To familiarity my friend. Name's Solas and this is my, my girlfriend, Millicient!''</span></span></span> With a chuckle, Solas brought the liquid to firm lips and took one small sip, he then proceeded to holding the glassware in his palm for a few minutes in order to warm the liquid as he began conversing with the man. The term â€˜girlfriendâ€™ sounded quite strange when it escaped his lips. The man knew that their relationship had more to it, and was more than a simple type of boyfriend / girlfriend relationship. His partner was exclusive. <br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">"Oh? reincarnation? you are a believer then?" Isolde asked</span></span><br/><br/>Solas shifted his stare between the two - Isolde and Aaron, and found his smile fading as he recalled the time he watched the woman burn at the stake. His trip to New York brought back oh so many memories he had yet to share with Millicient; utterly somber memories. Then there was the face of the man he could not recall seeing anywhere, yet his soul was old, very old. The tainted one fed on the blood of others, from mostly drunk female fans during the Moto-racing championship party hosted at the W Hotel which took place in NY on Broadway, Times Square. For once, he pleasured in sinking his teeth into young flesh and found the taste of their life source quiet disturbing, yet ambrosial to say the least. Composing his features, Solas averted his eyes to the other manâ€™s face, taking a second sip of Cognac as he studied him. <span style="color: #BFBFBF"><span style="font-weight: bold">''So, tell us a little bit about you. If I may ask, where do you hail from? Your accent tells me that you could be from the area?!"</span></span></span></ul>