they argued my right to ascension

"The eighties were a good era, at least, reasonably so."

It was little more than a mutter of sorts, the antisocial blonde unwilling to discuss his musical preference from ages long gone, sighing softly as he returned his attention to the road ahead, long fingers moving to easily to turn the volume down to an almost non-existent rabble. This, he is sure, is why he had never bothered with children, or at least why he had been lucky enough not to conceive any in the time he had been with Clara. He could only hope the little blonde had no delusions as to playing loud rock music or punk music or whatever it was children listened to today, features pulling into a slight frown at how entirely old such a realisation made him feel. He would have laughed, once, back when he found the world amusing at the thought of ever thinking music could be too loud. Maybe his age finally had begun to catch him- in less obvious ways then his still flawless complexion and smooth skin- youth forever tied into ever genes though he hardly chooses to think of the process of it, his mind far to taken tonight with the miniature being that clamoured out of the car behind him. Her eyes seemed only to grow wider at the sight of his less than impressive apartment before she offered yet another quip in his direction. Why was it so that he was forever cursed to be around people whom seemed to believe they were humorous? The Hunter never truly having considered that perhaps it was merely himself whom had lost all amusement with a life and existence that had become almost meaningless to him save for a few single, bright spots within his otherwise paled excuse for a life.

"The car was a gift from a friend, the apartment is strategic and nothing else. Richer areas are more heavily congregated with vampires- so I avoid them. Do you know about vampires or were you sheltered from that reality too?"

The lack of emotion within his voice is surely given to display his displeasure at her education so far. Why the child had been so sheltered he hardly knew, did humans do nothing to prepare their offspring for survival in a world in which they were the weakest beings? Was there no consideration for education of the youth in a time when supernatural's were more integrated then ever? Had she existed with him as opposed to the Hartfords she would be considerably better prepared, he is assured, Azrael rarely ever seeing need to lie, else twist the truth, in order to educate another. The truth was a harsh enough reality after all. She would learn, in time, although once more he is given to consider how little thought he had truly given this moment and his subsequent adoption of a girl, a relative he barely knew. Why he had done it remains to be seen, why he had been so entierly furious with the Hartfords he hardly knew. They had kept her safe, he supposed, even if she was lacking a real education and he held no business, truly, in involving himself in her life. A life so far surely uncomplicated to an extent and yet- he remembers his brother, he remembers Hadrian as if it was merely yesterday, time failing to taint such closely held memories though he is barely given to think on them. This was Hadrian's grandchild, she was family and his family had only ever failed, once, to protect one another. Such a mistake hardly needed to be repeated.

He slides the paper and pen so easily towards her, letting it rest atop the dining room table, the old, worn wood and two plain wooden chairs that surrounded it hardly offering any inclination towards luxury, the man merely content to applaud himself for having purchased a home with two bedrooms- although truly he could only hope she did not desire to bring all her worldly possessions, his home hardly large enough to accommodate such things. Arms folded loosely across his chest, moving to seat himself upon the edge of the table near the couch he had offered her, one long limb folding effortlessly over the other as he waited for her to at least attempt to list what she might need- frowning slightly as she moved to place the paper and pen to the side, hands folding across her hips before a sudden tirade of questions was thrown towards him, the man very near regretting having offered her a chance to ask them at all. It was several moments of silence that followed, a sigh drawn softly from his lips at last- so many of these questions....unasked for so many years, chest tightening...uncomfortably as she asked after his family. This, he is sure, is why he lives alone- why it is so much easier to refuse the friendship others have offered over the years, the questions inevitable at some point, agitation lingering softly upon his features as he seemed to consider the words she offered with no small manner of exasperation.

"I thought your Mother had died when the rest of the family did. I heard rumours over the years, that she survived and married, but I held little faith in them. The last time I saw your mother she was in diapers and playing with a rocking horse my brother built her."

His shoulders simply rolled in a shrug of sorts, effortlessly nonchalant or so it seemed, as if such memories no longer effected any part of his emotions, brushed aside with an almost callous ease rather than spoken of as a treasured and remembered moment.

"No I do not kill animals for sport. A Hunter is what I am....I suppose, like a species."

He paused, another frown of sorts overtaking those ever-handsome features, lashings of blonde falling into his gaze, swept aside with an easy flick of a hand as he seemed to search for the word a moment, disliking this entire topic of conversation perhaps even more so then the last and yet- he answers only what she asks, offering no further information upon any of the topics presented, nor how they had all become interconnected- a story he has failed to share in nearly seventy years.

"A hunter is not born, we are made. I was....created I suppose you would call it to protect the human race from those whom would seek to harm it or prey upon it. Vampires, witches, faeries and Were-creatures, laugh if you want, but I guarantee you that you have met at least one if you think hard enough about it. They are....unholy, creatures of hell with no redemption- myself and my companions, others like me- destroy them, hunt them, kill them- that is why I do not appear....as a normal human being. I am designed to withstand the attacks of my prey unlike you and your race."

His voice remains even, calm, though some sense of derision exists still, laced within each word, his hate for such creatures surely clear as fingers tap a pattern of impatience against his arm in the pause he offers the girl to digest such thoughts and information.

"You will not be a Hunter like me, no, this is not a life for you and not one I would wish on anyone. The Council is- my employer I suppose you would call it, they are in charge of all Hunters and oversee the work we do. I still look young because Hunter's do not age, this was the age I was when I was......made, we stay that way, frozen in time until something finally manages to kill us. It is a defence mechanism, I suppose, we do not age, we never lose strength so we remain eternally a threat to the things we hunt though such...youth comes at a price, I suppose."

Golden eyes flicker briefly from her, such questions so unasked for so very long that he is surprised perhaps at his own answers, else unwilling to explore them any further.

"There is nothing to say about my family, I don't remember."

One hand simply shifted to rest upon the weapon Davante had provided him with that forever hung from his belt, the blade infused with enough of the warlocks magic to provide him with the ability to lie....if only slightly, the girl surely incapable of this understanding as he offered such words in regards to his childhood and the life he had left behind. It was easier to lie then to remember, this topic a sore point for the man, the lie coming easily from his lips with the assistance of the magic as he gaze returns to her once more- his tone surely enough to indicate that tonight at least, he will not discuss his family in any depth.

"Anything else, or are you going to actually write something on that paper? I have nothing of any real use to a teenage girl, let alone clothing that will fit someone of your small stature so unless you desire to wear an outfit similar to mine I suggest you list the clothing you require."

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread