And there is a Bianca in the bar, dressed as a modern-day hippy, and looking not a day over twenty. If one looks close, perhaps there is a blood-stain or two.
"As it is you...I won't be long, I'm cutting really a bit fine with the sun-rise, but I don't suppose you could give this to Amadeo, could you?" The blonde vampire holds out the piece of folded, linned paper.
The letter (http://www.livejournal.com/users/abotticellilady/1439.html) is short, written in black pen by someone who learnt calligraphy rather then 'handwriting'.
Bianca pouts. "Tell him I pouted back, then, and that he should move to a saner part of the world then...well, where-ever he makes his home now. Britain, from your accent?"
He smiles. Bianca and Amadeo were obviously raised by the same man.
"New Orleans, actually. Just down the street from Lestat and Louis. As for my accent, I was born in Scotland. And Amadeo wants to know why a vampire moved to the sunniest continent on the planet."
"Only drink the blood of the Evil-doer, thus I was taught," she says in a sing-song voice. "Used to be prison, over 150 years, and I was tired of all the old countries, anyway. Besides, the people amuse me so much."
"Oh, dear, I hope not literally..." Bianca grins, and then kisses Richard on the cheek.
"I really do have to run, otherwise I'll have to sleep in the boathouse, and the Donovans have come back from their holiday and might find me...could you pass along the kiss as well?"
Liam approaches for breakfast, but the Bar pre-empts him before he actually says anything, giving him a full Irish breakfast and a shamrock plant in a pot. He blinks.
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