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(Location: Exiting a diner --- Sleepy Hollow, New York)

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Jenica couldn’t even begin to explain what had possessed her to do something like writing a letter to someone who more than likely was a complete stranger. But it had been one of those things she was simply unable to get off her mind until it was done so two pages about the history of and fate met by one?‘Jenica Dracul’?was sealed up inside in an envelope with a picture of her included. There was no signature aside from a small star drawn in the bottom corner of the last page and with there being no return address the only clue as to where it had come from was a postmark from Sleepy Hollow.

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She, of course, knew there was a much greater chance the man calling himself Vlad Aculea would have no clue who the story told inside those pages was about. But there was just something about him that reminded her so much of her brother when she’d been watching his press conference just a few short days ago. If it was him, was it reincarnation? Or could there be another explanation? The history books all said that he had died on the battlefield, beheaded by enemy soldiers.?

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What had she hoped to accomplish in sending a letter that quite possibly its recipient would believe the ramblings of someone who was mentally unstable? With a heavy sigh, the former princess reached into pocket fishing out a few bills to cover both her meal and the tip before getting to her feet and exiting the small diner.

(Location: Streets of Sleepy Hollow)

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Jenica walked away from the small diner letting the door fall closed behind her without a second glance as her thoughts were on the letter sent to a man based on his striking resemblance to her long dead brother. Why had she felt such a strong need to send the damned thing? Odds were it was nothing more than a freak coincidence. If that were the case then all she could do was hope the contents of her letter would be at the very least forgotten about?(if not destroyed).

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She started moving down the sidewalk wishing she could take back what she’d done. It was foolish to indulge such a whim when it was so farfetched. How could she have allowed herself to even entertain the notion it could be him? Maybe it had a little something to do with the desperation which led to so many other reckless choices throughout the centuries. But it had all been in the name of getting her brother back so that he could finally find the happiness he deserved after all he’d given up for their people.

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With a heavy sigh, she looked around at the storefronts while keeping an eye out for potential threats. It had been a few days since she last checked in at the roadhouse or spoke with Sam though she assumed the lack of ‘911’ texts or messages in her voicemail meant that he and Jo were faring well.

(Location: Streets of Sleepy Hollow)

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Jenica reached into her pocket withdrawing the small device then swiping right with her thumb to unlock its screen. She began scrolling through her contacts while moving down the sidewalk deciding to touch base with her friends. Pausing slightly with her thumb hovering over Sam’s number then going back up to that of his current hunting partner. Lifting the iPhone up next to her ear as she waited for the blonde to answer.

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It was not like she was avoiding Sam, but if one wanted honest answers to questions regarding personal wellbeing…it was simply best to ask those of Jo who was more inclined to provide her with an honest answer. Not that he was a habitual liar or anything, the man just had a tendency to insist that everything was fine?(even if he wasn’t okay). Upon getting her voicemail left a message, “Hey, it’s me. Just checking in.”

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Hanging up, she tucked her phone back inside her pocket continuing down the street. Maybe she would luck up on a?‘箩辞产’while in town, a thing should take her mind off the letter sent to a certain wealthy businessman. Thinking about it now she could almost hear at least one of her friends asking?‘Why the hell would you do that?’. Sadly that was one question she couldn’t answer because she just didn’t know.

Jenica stumbled forward a bit quickly regaining her balance following the?‘肠辞濒濒颈蝉颈辞苍’, quickly turning to face the woman upon hearing an apology being offered. “It’s okay. It’s a difficult thing to master.” Her words accompanied by a small smile. Perhaps if this had been one of those?‘bad days’?she might have reacted differently but as it were even a distraction of this sort was a welcome one. “I think the ability to?‘walk and read’?is one we’re all still working on.”

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Some seemed more successful than others at doing so, but then she supposed that had more to do with how engrossed the individual was in regards to the subject matter than anything else. For the moment she would leave out an introduction until it seemed more warranted, a decision that also afforded her the opportunity to decide on whether to use an alias or her real name. Most people these days didn’t know all that much about history so the latter went unrecognized (for the most part).

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However, there was that rare occasion when someone uttered the words?‘like Dracula?’. If only she had been topside during the lifetime of that damned drunken Irishman. Thanks to him, the only thing anyone seemed to think of whenever they heard her family’s name or more precisely that of the brother she’d sold her soul for centuries ago was that damned book. It was almost as though none of that ever existed. It was really quite frustrating.

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But no more so than the fact there was apparently some vampire running around using that name, a thing that pissed her off.?IF?she ever caught up with them…

“Humanity does seem to have a natural flare for doing so.” Jenica sometimes felt every minute of her actual age over that of how old she appeared to be. Most often this happened whenever too much thought was given to the foolish acts of today’s world. “Mostly because in those days texting was such a huge pain in the ass.” There were times when she still avoided sending texts when a simple phone call could suffice.

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“Actually no, I’m not from around here. I just got into town a few days ago.” She supposed that someday some town might be chosen as home. Or at the very least hoped it could be possible after so long with the closest thing to it being her epically long stay in hell. Not a place which would fall under the category of anyone’s top ten?‘vacation spots’.?

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She took a moment to consider her options when the introduction was made then reached out to shake the woman’s hand. “Jenica Dracul.” Given the odds of anyone being familiar enough with history these days to recognize her real name she’d chosen to use it instead of the alias she normally went with. Plus for unknown reasons the former princess was curious to see whether the woman who stood before her was any different than the others.

“There was Mircea II, Vlad C?lug?rul, Radu III the Fair?(though him I posthumously disowned given his actions), Vlad III, and myself.” Jenica corrected as the history books so often omitted a few of the facts whenever it suited them to do so. She supposed the only accurate account of those times lived within the memories of those who lived during them. “That would be Radu, may he rot in hell.” Her voice held a certain coldness as she spoke of him.

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“More like killed about five hundred years ago by hellhounds then spent several centuries as a demon before being killed by a hunter and resurrected by some mysterious benefactor?(for lack of a better term).” She knew the woman didn’t exactly believe she was even remotely serious about any of this, but for reasons unknown to her she felt the urge to provide her actual history rather than that of?‘Katarina Lazar’?the identity she had assumed a few short months ago following her miraculous return to the living.

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“Most likely boredom.” Which quite possibly was her initial reason for being honest with a total stranger about her true identity and certain other things. “As that usually serves as a fairly strong motivator under most circumstances. Or maybe you just struck me as the type who could be useful dealing with those things that go bump in the night.”

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Inclining her head about when asked the identity of the person she had known giving a little thought as to whether an answer should be given. When she couldn’t see what it would hurt she responded “August Corbin.” Giving a small nod as the woman excused herself to check a message on her phone, loosely folding her arms once again as she waited patiently for their conversation to continue.