New Orleans was perfect for her. The bright lights, big city vibe was real, as she always said. When men came to the big city to see the bright lights, they wanted women on their arm when they did so. Conveniently, she was good at being this woman, and so were many others. Most of the time, the men weren't so bad, but this one was currently annoying the hell out of her. Granted, she was easily annoyed. Being forced to dress up nicely didn't help her volatile attitude anymore than his never ending boasting about himself and his own accomplishments. The only thing keeping her from leaving would be the huge amount of cash he'd already paid her, neatly tucked away in the small purse hanging over her shoulder. Fingers decorated in a variety of rings hold a wine glass, clinking it gently as she listened to him tell a story about some big accomplishment. God, she wasn't even paying attention anymore. Instead, every once and a while, she'd slip the glass beneath the table and pour some vodka from her flask into the cup and sip on that. It was the only thing that was keeping her from punching him in the face.

"Excuse me, I need to go to the gent's room." His story finally ended and another moment of relief granted itself as he stood, set his glass down and made his glorious exit from her presence. She watched the door of the gentleman's bathroom swing back and forth with a sigh of relief, letting her posture slink back into a slouch, removing her flask and emptying the last of it into the glass before throwing it back like it was a shot.

"Shouldn't that vodka be in a Cosmo?" A voice asked, and she paused, turning her head to see a somewhat tall man of about five eleven (curse her height!) standing just across from her in a very sleek black suit with a matching black tie and dress shirt underneath. He had a very angular face, the type she hadn't really seen before, with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a very straight nose. He had hazel brown eyes, which seemed to dance with years and years of love, life, death and loss, and looked at her with an intense interest. His hair was brown, a very dark brown, almost black which protruded up from his head and seemed to defy gravity. Eyes narrow and she scoffs, grabbing the bottle of wine from the table and pouring it into her glass, needing more alcohol in her when her guest returned.

"No. I don't like Cosmos. I prefer Kamikazes, thank you. Cosmos are for like fancy bitches." She says, grasping the wine glass and trying to pretend to be a fancy bitch as she sipped from the edge. He stepped closer, giving a small chuckle.

"Some would say wine is as well, so I assume you are with someone." He says, glancing around.

"Ah, yes, the bathroom called. He'll be returning soon, no doubt." She sighs, ruffling her dark hair the best she can with how it's done up.

"You don't sound too excited about that." He observes, undoing a button on his coat and sitting down. She quirks a brow at the sudden invasion, but dismisses it, continuing with a shrug and another sip of the wine.

"I'm working. No one is excited about work." She shrugs again. It was a habit. "No matter what their work is."

This only seemed to interest him more, as his own eyebrows raised and he leaned forward, though keeping his elbows off the table. A man of manners, he seemed. However, they're quickly interrupted as her former company staggers out of the bathroom and towards their table. Another sigh escapes her and she can practically feel his anger. By the time he approaches the table, he's quaking. Fists are clenched at his sides and his face is contorted, but considering his short size, it makes him look rather funny instead of intimidating.

"Excuse me?! Who is this? I paid you for your time with me, not with some other man!" His voice is but a squeaky thunder to her, and probably everyone else and she sets the wine glass down. Reluctantly, she gives a nervous smile to the man across the table from her and looks to her former company.

"I can assure you I don't know who this kind gentleman is. We were just chatting in your absence, I can assur-" A sharp, all-too-familiar pain stings the side of her face as it's thrown to the side and it stuns her temporarily, leaving her newfound company to react and he isn't so gentlemanly about it. By the time her head whipped back around, the hand he had just slapped her with was broken and his pained screaming was filling her ears. Slowly, she stood and grabbed the glass of wine, downed it, and set it back down. She grasped his chin and leaned down into his face.

"If you ever touch me like that again, I will cut your balls off and make you swallow them. Is that understood?" She watches as he shakes his head quickly. "Good."

She releases him quickly and looks up, but sees that her rescuer is gone, the door of the restaurant closing slowly with a ring of the bell...

"Wait! Wait!" She takes off her heels as she chases after him, trying to follow the dark cloaked figure who had just rescued her and honestly, defended honor she didn't even have. He stopped, and slowly turned and it's then that she sees that his eyes are dark with malicious intent, looking like he was ready to tear someone apart (probably that douchebag back in the restaurant). They softened almost immediately upon seeing her and she gives a soft breath, tilting her head a bit.

"Uh, thanks for that whole uh 'defending my honor' thing back there. I mean, I don't have any but thanks." She says, using air quotes and giving a light laugh.

"Any man who would strike a woman deserves what that man got." He says, doing up the button on his coat.

"Does that go the same for female fighters?" She asks, cocking her head. This appeared to amuse him, as a grin quickly spread across his lips.

"What?!" She demands, hands becoming more expressive than her face, as per usual. "Is it more sexist to hit them or not to hit them? God! I don't even know!"

"I'm Elijah. Elijah Mikaelson." He says, offering a hand. "And you...are a very interesting woman."

She takes his hand and shakes it, giving a shrug.

"Well, 'y know, boring is well, boring. Gotta keep it interesting."

"So," He released her hand. "What is the interesting woman's name?"

"Amelia. Amelia Weiss."