Vannessa sat alone in a little corner at the bar, staring into her cup of coffee.  She wasn't really interested in drinking it, it was black with no sugar, but it warmed her hands and the bartender had been nice enough to give it to her "on the house".  She looked around, eyeing everyone.  The woman, she had the scent of the undead.  As did the man that was clearly interested in her.<br/><br/>Vannessa continued to sit there, silently brooding, taking a drink of her coffee every now and then.  It was bitter to her, she was never a fan of coffee, but she needed the warmth and had no money for food.  As she considered her hopeless situation, a fight exploded behind her.  Vannessa watched with interest as the woman, Alice, came to the defense of the little boy.  This surprised her.  She had only seen a vampire show kindness once, and that was from her creator, who both saved her and cursed her.<br/><br/>She smiled to herself as Alice put the old drunk on the floor, and as she was busy comforting the boy, she remembered what her father had taught her.  Her father had been a doctor, and taught her many things about tending injuries to one's self, or others.  She stood up and walked slowly toward Alice and the boy.  "I can help him." Vannessa said quietly.