[William – Elysium – A, No BoL]
Learned and adapted. Is that what he did? When he left first England, then the Camarilla, when he got into a coterie… no, perhaps not. He learned, but he didn’t adapt; he simply changed. William smiles faintly and reaches out, placing his fingers on the card Edith wrote for him and sliding it towards himself, picking it up, slipping it in his jeans.
« Uland, yes », he agrees mildly. « But we haven’t remained in contact after I left London. I don’t know if, after the purges of the Inquisition, he still lives. »
He says it gently, without overt pain. Some things, though never resolved, he cauterised with his departure; and either way, Edith would not be informed of them, of the larger details. Even the compliment to his art, when he pained to please the taste of his sire and his noble friends, are about a period of his unlife that he left behind. But compliments they remain, so he smiles to the Nosferatu, hidden oddly behind her outfit, her mask; a strange thing, to smile to the shell of the person, rather than the person herself.
Then, he turns to Ariyah. « I’m afraid you stumbled upon old kindred talking about the past, Miss Daniels », he says, with a sort of lightly self-deprecating amusement. « But I would like to see what you draw some other evening. I’m trying to get, somewhat, back in the business. I should point out, though, I don’t… actually own a phone. » A little smirk. « I may get in contact through a friend of mine. »