Alice gazed absently at the paper before her. It had been some time since the disastrous ball, since she had visited her shop which now surely was in the hands of her father and his greedy spawn- her brother. The dark lock about her finger was twisted out of shape as she stared at the paper without really seeing it. While she had tried to embrace life as one of the night walking, blood suckers, it was quickly loosing its charm. With a city keeping it's eyes out for Alice Lynch and a stalker who would do anything to get his hands on her, going outside was a stressful experience for the young vampire.

Scattered about her were different designs, doomed to be forever trapped in paper. Their color and forms would never be brought forth to the needle and cloth. Never pressed upon delighted forms of people to make them shimmer and shine. Alice herself was colorless in her dejected state. While she still kept herself healthy, Alice did little else. Becoming the shadow she had been when living with her family before she had left and been disowned. The latter which was now forgotten as her family was trying to navigate this scandal of her disappearance and keep their fortune intact. Alice doubted they would have any problems, but she was mourning. Her passion had been imprisoned by fear, her desire to listen to jazz and drink good tea quelled by the consistency of it.

The lessons with Liza were hardly any better. Alice's skill at fighting were abysmal to put it lightly. She had no knack for it. Running? Oh, she could run for her life and hide quite well. But actually fighting? Alice had known it was a mistake when she had first asked, but surely it would not be so hard! The woman almost laughed at her foolishness. It had been hard- worse than hard. With a needle and thread she could annoy and 'polite' people to death, but give her a knife and she was likely to cut herself. Odd considering she had little problems cooking. Wrapping her arms about her knees the young vampire rested her forehead on them and gave a soft sigh. Was this what eternity would be like? Hiding away in a hovel? Loosing what she desired most because of some scandal or other that would happen as she faked her death. Thankful at least she had been able to refund and respond to many of the clients she had had. Claiming there was a emergency and she would be out of business due to the 'situation'. Something that [i]someone[/i] had taken to the police. They had been even more furious. But how could they trace her? She had dealt with it all from her own computer at her home. 

She had salvaged some of the precious items. Pieces that could not be remade, items of sentimental value. All stored away in one of the bags carefully. One was a coat so like the one she had sold Liam that fateful night. But the detail in the minuscule embroidery had been tasking. Taking her hours and years to complete. It laid out over Liza's bed. The sun glittering over the thread she had carefully prepared those years ago. Two colors wrapped about a third. The buttons were not a overly tacky gold but a softer silver edged with the gold. The dark material of the coat was not black, but a deep red mixed with the same thread technique under a deep ebon-grey and black. A interior lined with dark silver. It had been a part of a paired line she had done. The matching dress- one she had kept for herself- lost in her store. The coat alone was worth a fortune, the dress to match with it? The price would allow her to open her store in another country and live contently while business picked up. Her eyes blurred with tears at the thought of selling the magnificent piece.