She met Dimitri Andrasta haphazardly, amongst the crowds of dancers, and masked men and women in Barcelona as they celebrated the ending of one year and the coming of another. Saphia was in the middle of the meelee, her ghoul escort having been lost in the crowd, the vampiress twirled and danced and lost herself in the music, the warmth of so many bodies, and the joy of the season. Her joy was not to be short-lived, for as the night wore on the people got more drunk, and more inhibitions were discarded. Saphia spotted Dimitri across the sea of people, the devils mask he wore making her pause, and the feel of him as Kindred making her wary and excited all at once. She was attracted like a moth to a flame, intrigued by the man who stood within, but apart from the crowd. They played the game, finding and loosing each other all night, until she finally ended it and tried to seduce him in earnest. They ended up at a lavish hotel, both drunk on wine-soaked blood. When the morning came, she had slipped out, leaving only her mask on the bed beside Dimitri. Fear had consumed even as love tugged at her heart and pleaded with her to return to his side and his bed. She did not. Saphia had been on her own for a long time, and to need someone so urgently as she suddenly needed Dimitri petrified her. She fled the room, and has not seen him since. That was in 1950. Saphia is coming to New York, not sure if she's settled her feelings, but knowing that the absence of his presence in her life has made her an empty shell of the vibrant woman and vampire that she was. She comes to New York to see what could be, and possibly to revive what might have been.