When Catherine was a human, she hadn’t thought much about the dead, finding that to be quite the bore. Although she had been fascinated by knowledge, she was, quite frankly, disgusted by the thought of the dead…finding them to be rather appalling. It was ironic, she supposed, that she had become a vampire, the very creature she had been taught to avoid like the Muggle plague. They were horrid, heartless creatures, along with every other undead creature, that were soulless. Because they lacked a soul, it implied they couldn’t possibly care about anything. When Catherine had turned, she immediately understood the false assumptions that living humans made of the dead creatures. In fact, Catherine and her sister had cared so much, that they had willingly abandoned their family, not wanting to lose control of their new abilities, thus preventing them from entering this new lifestyle. At first, she and Ellanora had trained themselves in who they would take the blood from, only to completely go against that when the wizarding world was so against them to begin with. Why should they waste their time trying to change when the wizarding world wouldn’t even give them a chance?

It was because of this that Catherine found herself so interested in the dark arts world of magic; particularly, anything related to the dead. It mattered to her not if the wizarding world destroyed itself with the ridiculous politics that got involved, though she would be interested in joining this side of the war if needed. She couldn’t care about their reasoning, really, but any reason to go against the Ministry that made life horrendous to anyone with a different skillset or viewpoint would do, she supposed. Regardless, satisfying her needs extra just the night before so that she could venture this way, taking her time in the shop that didn’t appear to have a close time. Even if it had, it certainly wouldn’t keep her out of it as she aimlessly walked through the shop, carefully examing each artifact that she came across before she heard someone approaching her. Not bothering to glance up, she waited to hear what the individual wanted, if they were going to interrupt her business.


Outfit

Luca didn't usually enter Knockturn Alley, given how much he disliked acknowledging his darker side. But recently he's come to terms with what he is and has decided to search out others of his kind. Knockturn Alley seemed like a sound place to start. So here he was, entering the small shop and glancing at the items with little interest. The Dark Arts never held much interest to him, and now was no different. He might be a creature of the night, but he wasn't about to bend to the stereotypes just because it was expected of him. Up close to the other patron, he could immediately tell that she didn't smell like a Human and he was rather shocked that he'd managed to find another of his kind so easily. "Excuse me," he began. "But I don't believe we've met. I'm Luca Devon." Best to get those pesky introductions out of the way. Besides, how else was he supposed to break the ice? Accidentally on purpose run into her? He had more class than that, and he wasn't about to disturb a lady just to find out if he had actually found another vampire.

She heard a male voice begin, introducing himself while a small smirk spread on her features. She supposed that she should feel slightly alarmed being approached by some unknown bloke in Knockturn Alley, and she supposed she would have had she been human, but she only found herself amused by this. It wasn’t often anymore that she would come across someone that would be remotely interesting, but if she were to come across someone, it might be in the place that only the sketchiest of beings would be. Pulling her eyes away from the rather boring object she had been observing, Catherine glanced over towards the direction of the voice, letting her eyes meet his. “Oh, I do believe I would remember had I met you, Mr. Devon,” she replied, smiling. It wasn’t as if she could forget even if she wanted to, not that she ever wanted to forget anymore. “Catherine Bosworth,” the blonde introduced, not holding out her hand for the introduction.

Luca grinned and looked down at the woman with a raised brow. She was classically beautiful, he supposed, with hazel eyes and blonde hair woven into a braid. "Please, call me Luca, Mr. Devon was my father," he replied. May he rest in peace. "What brings a lovely lady like yourself to such a dark place as this?" he asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer. He might have recently began learning to accept himself as he is, but he has no desire to actually explore his dark side. Despite the fact that he knows he's in no real danger, even in a place like Knockturn Alley, he still gets the creeps every time he enters the place. Still, he knows how to put on a cocky front, emulating the man he was before he was turned.

He crossed his arms, a tactic he'd adopted working as a bouncer for Muggle clubs. Most people were deterred from picking a fight when he accented his not inconsiderable biceps with tight shirts and crossed arms. Not that he owned any shirts that weren't a little tight and/or threadbare these days. The one he was currently wearing was probably one of his nicer ones; a black short-sleeved t-shirt with the Muggle band 'Metallica' emblazoned on the front in dramatic, silver letters. His jeans, the three pairs he owned, were all nearly identical. Dark blue and well worn, only one pair was a little on the tight side of things but he usually only wore that pair when he was working.

There was something off about him, and she almost wondered if he might be one of her kind. This put her on edge ever so slightly, though she didn’t acknowledge that. The last couple of vampires that she and her sister had come across while in London had been insulting to their kind. One had even been prowling after vampires, so willing to destroy their breed as she acted like some kind of savior for the humans. It was despicable and that was certainly a kill that she wasn’t against. It wasn’t as if she had asked for this life, though now that she had been given it, there was nothing to be earned by being miserable. After many years, Catherine and her sister had come to find out that they were better off not trusting anyone, living their immortal lives as they watched everything under the moon change before them. Catherine supposed there would always be a bit of bitterness in her soul at the fact that she watched humans take their lives for granted, but humans were naturally stupid, it seemed. She had been just as blind when she was one, but now her eyes were truly opened to the nature of this world.

Meeting another vampire, if that was what he was, would put a bit of a complication in things. For one, if he were stupid in his hunts, it would mean that they would inevitably have to leave London before they were ready so as to not detect attention. The blonde caught his word choice, at least picking up that his father was deceased…or a deadbeat father of some kind. “Luca,” she repeated, acting as if she were committing it to memory. A handsome name for a handsome face would be difficult to forget when he wasn’t just some nameless meal. “I just figured that every bit of darkness needs a bit of light,” she responded easily, not moving her eyes from him. Of course, to her, she was the darkness and this shop was the light, despite the meaning that it had to the humans. Maybe one day she would find answers to the questions she had yet to conceive. Her eyes glanced over him as he crossed his arms, not missing the strength that was showing through his shirt. If he were a vampire, and not one trying to make amends with the world that hated them for something they had no control over, he could be potentially useful to have an alliance with…if she and Ella so desired. “And what is such a well-mannered man doing in a place with so many horrors?”

He hummed quietly at her comment and chuckled, "Does it? And which are you? Darkness or light?" he questioned with a raised brow. She seemed like the type to think herself either angel or demon, if she really was a vampire then he was willing to bet his every possession that she considered herself more of a demon. Well-mannered? He scoffed internally; he might be such in his every day life, but he had no intention of being 'well-mannered' with anyone in Knockturn Alley. And horrors was a relative term, to a man (or vampire) who's seen even half the things he's seen, this little shop is hardly filled with anything resembling 'horrors'. No, he's not going to play nice and polite with this woman who looks like she could hold her own despite her petite frame. "I'd hardly call these trinkets 'horrors'," he stated with a huff. "No surprise that young lady like yourself thinks them such," he added just to rile her. She'll either be offended as a human and probably tell him he has no idea of the struggles she's endured, or she'll scoff as a vampire and make a comment about age. Either way, he'll find out whether or not he's found another of his kind, and that's the whole purpose of this.

Sometimes the thirst was strong, and other days it felt a bit more bearable. It wasn’t as if she were some bloodthirsty creature that couldn’t function except to drain the delightful liquid from the humans that were unworthy of life, taking every moment for granted. At first, it had taken some getting used to, though she and her sister were able to hold themselves accountable for the most part, particular in their meals. As time wore on, it became less important as they realized that they would always be looked at as monsters of the night. This wasn’t the life that she had dreamed when she had been human. In fact, when she had been human, she was perfectly content marrying and having children, being a housewife as was acceptable in her century. Now, she used her endless time to educate herself in many areas, finding that she did thirst for knowledge in a much lighter sense of the word ‘thirst’.

“I guess it would depend on one’s perspective,” she shrugged in response, glancing about the shop before bringing her gaze back to him. She was the darkness, in the eyes of this world, but to her, she was the one that could see. When she was a human, she had been limited by the confines of the world, stuck in the cycle of growing old only to die, no real progress being made. As a vampire, time was never-ending, giving her much more opportunity for personal growth. She raised an eyebrow at the bloke at his response, now finding herself even more curious why he would bother approaching her if he were just going to be slightly cross. “Young? Well now you’re just flattering,” she smirked. “And what would you call these trinkets, then? Toys for a bit of entertainment?”

He hummed in agreement. That was rather true, he supposed. The vast majority of humanity viewed his kind as monstrous and demonic, angels of hell in some cases. Darkness personified. Luca hated the image cast upon vampires for something they have no control over. Most never wanted to be turned in the first place, simply a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time much like he was. "I suppose it would," he agreed. "But from your perspective," he persisted with a raised brow, "which are you, Miss Bosworth?" In Luca's opinion, the only opinion that mattered about a person was what they thought of themselves.

Luca gave a cocky grin. Calling her young might be viewed as a stretch when he looked about her age himself, and one could never be sure when dealing with a vampire. For all he knew, she's actually older than him by any number of years. Still, women like flattery no matter their age, and Luca was more than capable of offering honest compliments to pretty women. "Is it flattery if it's honest?" he quipped. "Not in so many words," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "But something to that effect, yes."

Catherine took a moment to think, not that she really needed to, before responding to his inquisition. “Darkness, I find, is more suitable,” she stated simply with a slight shrug. Really, there was no light. There was only dark and darker, the light a mere figment of one’s imagination. This world had no light, no matter how many promises were made. Darkness was in them all; some merely had much more darkness than others. Humans, though, did see her kind as being the darkest evil, something that was intolerable. They seemed to be treated as the vermin of society, despised without reason. They could be beneficial to the humans if the humans ever managed to get their heads out of their arses, but Catherine was certainly not holding her tongue for that occurrence. Humans were incapable of living on the same playing field with other creatures, too arrogant for their own good.

“And please, call me Cat,” she added on, still curious about this bloke and his reasoning for approach. Everyone had an agenda; now, she just had to discover his. “Honest…I suppose it merely depends on one’s perception, then, as to me, I’m certainly not as young as you perceive me to be,” she answered, having a feeling that he knew what she was. It had been a long time since she came across another vampire, besides the two that really were such disgraces, and she was curious if this one was going to be a problem, if he was a vampire, that is. “If you can describe these as toys,” she started, looking about the shop before continuing, “then I’d be very interested in what you deem an actual horror.”

Luca hummed thoughtfully when she gave her reply. He was fairly certain she was one of his kind, but one could never be too sure about these things. It could end very badly for him if he announced what he was without confirming that she was the same. Whether she called herself dark for self-depreciating reasons or because she actually liked being thought of as such was debatable; she at least seemed to accept that most would see her as dark. Luca himself didn't like to think he was all that dark, though he knew humanity saw his kind as an overall dark species. He absolutely despised taking an innocent life, would go to great lengths to avoid it happening, and kept a supply of blood pops on hand for emergency situations.

He cocked his head when she denied being as young as she appeared. It sounded far too much like a statement he'd make regarding himself if he ever ran into a human he thought might tolerate his kind. "Oh?" he raised a brow. "And how old are you, exactly?" Luca knew asking such a thing of a woman was the epitome of bad manners, but he didn't think she'd mind that much. He chuckled darkly and presented a wolfish smile, "I've seen too many actual horrors in my time to so much as blink at these baubles," he stated. "Being born in the middle of a war does that to a person, I suppose." It was barley a slip, really. A hint of his actual age.