[@PuRe DaRkNeSs][@Wraithblade]
Gabriel smiled, as he looked over. "My dear, you would look good in a burlap sack. Such loose criteria could not possibly be used to judge your attire. How could mere clothes fulfil the standard you set?" He chuckles, sitting back and sipping his drink. "You are free to follow me wherever you wish, the company would be greatly appreciated. I must admit, simply wading through the mortals gets drull sometimes, and on occasion even the sweet taste of Orphan Blood gets old. it's been a while, since I've had someone to talk to, on the way."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, as he sensed a plane landing. On it was an unconscious mind, as well as a void he knew all too well. Not a mind, as he usually perceived them, but rather an empty space where he knew a mind belonged. An infuriating lack of presence, like an awkward pose at the end of a sentence. He needed to consciously refrain from trying to break it, he knew all too well the futility of attempting to break through Mithias' impregnable mental defenses, even with his powers. The child had inherited a strength quite opposite to his sire. Although, from what he perceived of Hank's mind, the mind control had merely skipped a generation.

"Speaking of which, my dearest son appears to have landed on the island. Would you like to accompany me, as I go out to meet him? I believe he's planning to introduce me to my grandchild." Smiling, he holds out a hand to help Chantelle up, even as he moves to leave. He's retrieved a long gold cane, one of his favorite pieces of attire. His sense of fashion had lagged behind the times a bit, although nobody was prepared to tell him.