"I can’t believe you’re dead. You betrayed me.” A woman told the photo of a man in her hands, tears quietly falling as she pulled at a worn and singed jacket.

A month ago her father had died after being the random target of some desperate people. Muggers had shot him while he’d been digging for his wallet. A week after he died her house burned down, she had no job, and he’d left her with mountains of debts to pay off. He had pretended to protect her from everything he could, ever since she was little and now he was gone. She had no idea of what to do, so day in and day out she sat in various parks, sleeping on the benches and digging through the trash for the food that people with money wasted. Wearing only the clothes that she had left the house in the day her house burned down.

“Oh, dear. Are you ok? You seem distraught.” She looked up to see a man a little taller than average height leaning down to look at her. He had messy dark brown hair, and looked down at her with concern through incredibly green eyes, holding his glasses as if they were going to fall off his face. He looked too thin and was tall. He wore a nice brown pinstriped pant suit with grey tennis shoes.

“No shit Sherlock.” She told him grumpily, crossing her arms in a childish gesture of anger, turning away from him as she tried to stop the tears.

Straitening up from his crouched position, he calmly pushed his glasses up with one finger and sighed, “Oh, well. Is there anything I can do to help? My name’s Oliver. You are-” Sitting down; he held his hand out to her.

“Tink. Well actually Tinica, but you can call me Tink.” She stared at the hand suspiciously for a moment before shaking it. “Why do you care? I mean, I’m stinky, dirty, homeless and jobless.”

Oliver shrugged “Well to be honest,” He paused with a wry smile, “you’re sitting on my bench.”

The woman’s jaw dropped, why was he picking on her? “Yeah? Well you know why I’m sitting on your bench? Because, I don’t have a home. This is my bench now. I see no name on it.” Tink snapped at him.

“Well, I’m just as homeless as you but, unlike you, I actually have friends.” Oliver grinned at her as if he knew something she didn’t.
“How do you know that?”

Oliver chuckled, “Because, if you had real friends like me, you’d be clean, fed, and happy. I get to mooch off my friends, because they’re real friends, not posers.” He knew his ‘friends’ were actually one person, his sister, and though she was the one that was actually homeless, her last home being burned down, she’d kicked him out last night and hadn’t let him back in yet. He’d been insensitive towards the newest member of their house hold, another mythical being that had trouble blending into society.

Tink rolled her eyes at him. “You know what? You’re a loser.”

“I know that. Tell me something new and interesting.” His glasses flashed in the lamplight, as he smiled at her, forgetting his vampiric teeth might not look normal to her.

“A-are you a vampire?” Tink asked, trying not to panic as she thought of the many vampire books she’d seen youngsters reading these days. They weren’t supposed to be real but she couldn’t help asking.

“Hmm? Oh, no.” Oliver gave a small huff of a laugh, fingering a canine tooth. “I’m not a vampire, my mom was human.” He smiled, again, this time not as wide.

Tink gulped, and asked “And your father?”

“Umm. He was a demon.”

“Oh really? Then why do you have those sharp teeth? And why does your skin have those weird markings?” She asked him smugly, pointing to silver swirls on his skin, reminiscent of tribal tattoos.

He glared at her. “Because you’ve been reading too many of those crappy teen books. My teeth are perfectly normal for a half demon. And so is my skin.”Oliver nodded his head once, sharply, giving an ‘And-that’s- final’.

“Oh. I see.” Tink scooted away from him, looking at him side long as if he were insane.

Suddenly over his almost-a-snit, Oliver looked down at the pavement under his feet. “And what of you? How did you come to be here? Sitting on my bench in the middle of the night?”

Her voice flat and emotionless, she looked straight at him.“My father died, left me mountains of debt, I lost my job, and then my house decided to burn down while I was out looking for a job.” Tink let the words hang in the air for a moment before getting up to walk away, offended that he was so obviously making fun of her and then just asking random questions about her.

“Wait, That’s not right!! Where’re you going?! You can’t just say something like that and then get up and walk away! You have to give the person time to react!” Oliver yelled following after her.

“Yes I can. See? I’m doing it right now. Good bye.” Tink, not turning around, waved her hand in the air behind her in a short chop of a wave.

“Huh, what a horrible woman, quite unpleasant.” Oliver muttered to himself, turning south heading for his house to see if his sister would allow him back in.

Christine sighed as she listened to the lecture she was getting about how to do chores and what was expected in the house. Her emerald green eyes switched swiftly from the man to the oven. Exactly how was this girl going to stop him to tell him the food was done.. "Um excuse me." Her voice was soft and sweet and the man only glared and went on. Shoving her tan hand into her long wavy black hair and sneered slightly. "Excuse me!" she said in a louder and more urgent voice. "The food is done, if you do not hurry this conversation along it will burn." She sighed loudly as her brows furrowed.

Finally the man walked away to find the food was done. Her rather plush lips came up as a fang showed and she snarled. pulling her hand out of her hair she walked swiftly into the living room and sat down on the couch. She looked down at her fit body, her pear white flats were slightly dirty but still clean and a tribal tattoo around her ankle. Her eyes looked over at the t.v. that mirrored her image. Her white strapless sun dress made her look tanner than what she really was. The tribal band around her right arm matched the one on her ankle.

Her neck was adorned with a black collar that had a tag on it. 'Just incase the dog catchers try anything.' She thought making a mental note to change her address to the house she was currently sitting in. The nineteen year old cocked her head to the side hearing steps come to the door. A knock on the door and she stood up. There was another knock and no one walked to open it so she assumed it was her duty. Sighing she walked over and opened the door slightly then all the way realizing the mans scent was in the house, faint but it was still the same scent. "Hello." She said nodding her head at him wondering what on earth she should do.

((I apologize for it being so short.))

Oliver began to grol as a strange smell wafted from the door, more than over protective of his too trusting and too kind sister but when he recognized the scent he stopped himself, "Ahh, I see she found you finally." he said pleasantly as he pushed through the doorway and into the house. He could smell cooking food and his stomach growled loudly. "You were difficult to find." he commented.

When they were looking for someone they always used him during the day and Mina at night to track the scents.

Christine glared at him slightly. "I still don't know why the hell I am here." She honestly liked the way she lived, always moving around, no one knowing who she was... Christine was never the type to like people despite what humans thought. Strangely enough she felt somewhat comfertable in this house, and she was fed properly and what not. Sighing she looked down at her flats still unsure of why she was wanted to come here in the first place but she kept her mouth shut. "The food is almost done." She said aimlessly as she heard her stomache slightly grumble beneath her.