| |
Neutral
|
(Edit added some to the bottom and moved this post to the last page for better flow)
Mauve Sinclair
699 | F, The Duchess |
Shune | Location: Casino Mentions: wip The thrum of music and chatter filled the air of the establishment Mauve was currently in. The clinking of coins and the sound of rolling dice set the atmosphere for the Casino. Along with its Aluring lights and dancers. This was a place of Secrets and Sin. A den of debocery, alliance and betrayal. With the aftermath of events of Red Night the stakes where being raised and secrets where indeed being spilled. Mauve Lounged in her private booth on the Casino grounds. She had full view of the front and back entrances as well as the main dance floor. Clad in a skin tight silk black lace dress. A slit up the side showing off the red leather thigh high boots she wore. A string of pearls at her pale throat. She was currently flanked by two dancers. A pair of dark haired Twins. One layed across her lap running lazy fingers on her knee. The other hand stroking the white fur Shaw that lay on the seat next to her. The other vampire was a pretty male. Smiling and chatting with the minister Mauve was tasked with getting information from. Letting the greasy man eat strawberries from his hand. Distractions that's all these two where and herself of course. The careful mask of beauty and calculated fake interest in the untrustworthy two faced minister. Her delicate but strong hands wrapped around the stem of her wine glass sipping the blood within. A sultry smile and soft laugh at the stupid comment The target was making. Showing off his pretty rings on his hands to the dancers. Bragging and boasting. A third dancer came from a hidden curtain in the private booth leaning over and pretending to kiss along mauves neck. She was gone as soon as she came and Mauve tucked the note she slipped into her hand into the hidden fold her silk black dress. Minister Darrow none the wiser. The dancer tucking a golden coin into her own pocket somewhere else in the club. Mauve also having slipped her payment to her. These three dancers where on hire for her. Spies. Allowed work in the casino for the sake of the legions intel. Plus her generous donations to the clubs owner. But only few knew that. To everyone else they where just dancers.
The fool sitting next to her had been giving her everything on a silver plater. She had barely even had to nudge the man's mind with her power.
Entitled Men. She thought with distaste. He was a known smuggler and had been charging massive amounts for the refugees flooding into the territory. To take them to safety. Rumor had speculated that none of them were getting to their destinations and he was taking them for all they had. The vampires going missing their coin lining his pockets. A dirty cheat and slimeball. She had all the proof she needed to end the mission. A sliver of her power sent to the two dancers signaling they where no longer needed. They both stood in fluid unison and made their way to the front of the private lounge area. The male smirked and grabbed the rope that would have a privacy curtain seal the space. Tugging on it and letting the drapes fall into place.
♥ Darrow began to protest "hey where are you going I'm not done playing or paying for you yet" the female gave Mauve a wink before also taking her leave through the curtain.
"now now Sir Darrow I thought we could have a more private evening" Mauve purred the words and he got a look of excitement on his face. Thinking tonight was about to be a lucky night. But tonight he had rolled the dice of fate and gotten snake eyes. The sounds from outside the booth went dead silent as her power began wrapping its coils around his mind. He had the decency to notice that she was no longer the sultry Courtier that had taken an interest in his business. But her tone kept its flirty rasp but more so in excitement. "Let's have some fun shall we. Well" she scoffed "I'll be having fun I don't think your going to like this very much" For she was no longer looking at him in the way men wanted a woman to look at them. But the way a Predator watched something it was about to eat. ♥ Twenty minutes later Mauve walked out of her booth. Wiping a spec of blood from her mouth with a finger. Placing a gleaming Saphire ring on her hand. The same one he was just bragging about. She tossed his finger that was only till a moment ago attached to his body and housing said ring. Into a trashcan as she headed out of the casino. It's speak easy type entrance coming closer. Flashing a dazzling smile to the security as she left. The massive male blushed but nodded. Recognizing the duchess.
♥ Stepping out into the chill night pulling her furs closer. Retrieving the note from her dress and reading it quickly. The meeting at the castle was canceled. "Good, murder makes me hungry" she was about to make her way back to the castle to find a real meal. Maybe she would see if Rosalie was back from her own mission yet. A sudden familiar scent flooded her nose and speak of the devil. From her spot on the tree line in the direction of the castle she could see Rosalie enter the casino. Change of plans. Summoning her haste she was at the door in a mater of seconds. The bouncer seemed confused that she was back so soon but payed it no mind. Allowing her through. Stalking the edge of the room following that alluring scent. Mauve glanced towards her booth she could see the minister blood and body already had been cleaned up. This place was efficient that's why she liked it.
A satisfactory little growl slipped from her lips as she spotted Rose at the main bar. Her hungry mood lightened. Mauve was not wearing her amulet that held back others thoughts today. Her foretelling was on more of the weak side as her Presence skills where her specialty. But the necklace helped filter thoughts on more intense days. A flash of someone thinking about how hot Rosalie was hit her like a brick. Her Ruby eyes glancing two seats over on the bar to the vampire not so subtly glancing at Rose.
Mauve waited and watched. Curious to what was going to happen. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Rosalie V. Boudreaux | 321 | Female | Dame | Utalea
Mentions: Samira (dir.) and Mauve (ind.) Rosa had a strange feeling that someone was watching her, making her eyes dart around the casino until they settled on a raven-haired woman a seat away from her. She stared at her for a little, noticing her eyes shifting at and away from her. Her brows faltered, drumming her fingers on the table, "Can I help you?" She said sharply, believing that woman was about to start something. However, she lightened up when she sensed nervousness radiating off the other, making Rosalie clear her throat in embarrassment. "Apologies," her tone a lot lighter than before, "I thought you had issues with me." She exhaled sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her charcoal eyes steadily examined the other, taking in the beautiful long black hair before moving to her outfit. She nods approvingly, offering the woman a small smile, "Nice, fit. It suits you well." Rosa was unsure how to proceed with this, considering compliments, especially gushy ones, aren't her thing. Oddly, something is familiar about the woman, making Rosalie squint her eyes. "By the fangs," she replied excitedly, then moved over to the seat beside the other vampire, "you're a dame of the OL, aren't you?" She relaxed and was internally grateful that she met someone in the same coven and rank as her. Now that she knew about it. Let's hope that the conversation wouldn't be embarrassing. "You're, um, let me think," she tapped her finger, clicking the roof of her mouth with her tongue, "Samira Octuras? Am I right?" Realizing her hysteria was getting too high, Rosa calmed herself down, her smile faltering to a smirk. Rosalie leaned against the counter, propping an elbow on it, and settled her cheek on the palm of her hand. The bartender came back, refilling her beverage. Everything to her became nothing more but background noise, nothing of much importance. Still, she felt as if someone was watching her, but she shrugged it off, not wanting to start a commotion over simple glances as she did minutes prior. "I don't think you remember my name, but it's Rosalie Boudreaux. However, Rosa is my preferred name," her tone was collected yet friendly enough to start a civil conversation. Her eyes glimmered with warmth, something she rarely does with strangers she rarely knows. Samira was. . .cute, the good kind of cute. Rosa doesn't lie unless it's part of a mission, and she isn't now. "You're adorable," she said flat out, not realizing what she said until seconds later, her eyes widening in surprise. "I meant it as a friendly, non-flirting compliment. Yes," she chugged her drink down, needing something to shut herself up from saying anything else. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Basil Levin Angelopoulos | 23 | Non-binary | Blood-Gifter | Human
Mentions: Tatsuya (ind.), ??? and Harper (dir.) "Thank you, and have a wonderful night," Basil called after the young man holding a mixed bouquet walked out the door, the man waving him goodbye in response. As the door closed and the bell hanging over the shop's door rang, Basil tiredly sighed, and his body became slack. He adjusted the collar of his pale yellow button-up shirt, twisting his dark brown apron with flowers stitched into the fabric back into position, and checked his light blue work pants for items he possibly left in there. His feet were killing him from standing all day, with Basil shuffling side to side in his brown steel-toed boots. His hands were wrapped in bandages from thorns and mishandled tools. "Such a long day," he plays with a strand of hair, looking through the windows to see if anyone remains outside his shop. His eye only met the empty street, then toward the shops across the road. His pupil enlarged in surprise, realizing they were already closed. "Ah! I did it again!" He raced from behind the counter to lock the doors, switching off the neon open sign hanging from his window. He turns around to check out the condition of his store, his brows faltering at the fertilizer on the store and all the items he has to restock. Basil went to the back of the store to get the clean equipment, the light in his eyes dull, "Would be nice if I have extra hands around here," he said disappointedly to himself, wincing in pain when he grabbed the broom handle, his hands still in pain from the minor injuries they sustained. "I can't afford anyone else to work here. My budget is tight as is." It took him a few hours to get everything situated, considering he's the only employee here. Not to mention his injured hands. He started to wipe everything down. His next step was to sweep and mop every inch of the place. Restock the shelves, racks, and flower pots. Do an inventory check and calculate the amount of cash he earned today. By the end, his poor brain was fried and too tired to think of anything else. He stifled a yawn, rubbing his eye with the back of his wrapped hand. A cold breeze brushed against his face, making him shudder in response, then pulled the collar of his white, oversized sweater upwards to cover half of his face. The tip of his nose was high-collar, resisting the urge to sneeze when the scratchy fabric ticked the surface of his skin. "It's gotten cold of late," his voice muffled, his eye darting around the partially lit street, "which means winter is about to come." The sleeves of his sweater covered his entire hand that dangled by his side, yet it was cold despite the so-called protection. "Hmm," his eye went to the night sky, checking out the cloudy abyssal blanket, "if I have enough saved, I should invest in a good pair of gloves." His lonely walking session was blissful to him, Basil enjoying the little amount of business and the quietness it offered. Although, every night he walks alone, he felt being watched. It didn't bother him enough to discomfort, only concern for his safety. His eyelids fell as he took a right, heading down Redwood Street. Tonight was different, though. It was too quiet. An uneasy feeling crept up his spine. An experienced he gets from watching horror movies or a bug pays him a sudden visit. Yes. In Basil's mind, a bug has equal scare quality as high-quality horror movies. You would make fun of him for having such a childish fear, but you probably never encountered a millipede hiding in your toothbrush early in the morning. He shuddered at the remembrance, wrapping his arms tight around himself as a source of comfort. "Dang millipedes," he huffed, slowing his pace when a commotion was heard not far from his current location, "and this neighborhood." When he peered down an alley, he froze in place, and fear rushed into his mind, his instincts screaming at him to run. What he saw was a gruesome sight that made him want to scream. To throw up. To run. He could feel the interior of his mouth getting wetter, prepping itself for the bile that was about to come. His legs were wobbly under his ripped, dirtied blue jeans. Basil's feet felt cold in his worn-down winter boots, like a bag of stones sinking into the river. His breathing rapidly increases, the smell of blood forcing a pathway to his nose, making him want to faint. In the partially lit alleyway, a man was devouring the neck of another. He took a few steps back, only to trip on his feet and land on his rump. His little commotion caught the assailant's attention, their glowing eyes of white fixating on him, seeing Basil as their next meal. The blonde-haired man crawled backward, moving away from the feral-minded man who began crawling toward him. "No-no," he cried, his eyes watering, covering his face with his arms when the other lunged, waiting for his demise. He remained in that position, yet nothing came. When he lowered his arms, he gazed upon a scene that made him thank whoever was watching over him. What made Basil's eye widen in marvel was the mesmerizing pair of icy blue that was also glowing, yet the eyes of frost locked hard on the crazed man. The stranger's face was obscured by darkness. His foot behind the man's neck, pinning him down against the concert. Unphased by the ferocious clawing that his leg was enduring. When the blue eyes turned to Basil, the young man couldn't help but shudder at how cold and empty they seemed. Basil's mind snapped out of the daze when he heard the man speak. "Go," his Russian accent thick and slightly intimidating, his tone bearing no hint of sympathy. Without arguing, Basil got to his feet and dashed off, covering his nose still to block out the scent of blood. Although that event was traumatizing, it did remind him of someone long ago when he was young. Funnily enough, it was all similar to him being in the being damsel, and a vampire is his knight in shining armor. He didn't stop running until he got home. It's a small house-a simple one-bedroom home with a small fenced backyard. Flowers decorate the exterior walls, with many more thriving inside. The tiny shelter is comforting to gaze at. Able to relax without worrying about drama. When he stepped inside, he quickly locked the door behind him, not wanting unwelcoming guests, a crazed vampire, for example. Basil rushed into his room, opening every storage compartment in search of something. Finally, he reached his closet, standing on his tippy toes to reach the shelf inside, blindly touching everything up there until he felt something familiar. He pulled it to bring it to his eye level, gazing at the old shoe box with admiration. When he opened it, inside waiting for him was a withered floral crown, a small smile creeping on his face. "Would you look at that Su-Su," he says in a sing-songy voice, grabbing the circlet with one hand, "I met another vampire that saved my life and another that tried to kill me." Basil awkwardly chuckled, moving to sit on the twin-sized bed with floral-themed covers. He kept staring at the crown, sadness in his eye of gold. He sighed and placed it back in the box, hesitantly putting the lid on. It's been years since he met the man, yet he remembered the nickname clearly, not his face. "Wherever you are now, I hope you're doing fine." Falling back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling covered in hanging plants. Basil sat up quickly, his jaw clenched, "I forgot to pick up my package!" Luckily for him, he didn't take off his shoes and raced out the front door to the darkened streets. Since he works a long shift, he has his packages delivered to the local post office, where it's kept safe in a locker. Same with his other mail. "The park should be the quickest route," he huffed, practically running on low fumes, "hopefully they're open this late." Basil kept going, his tired legs begging him to stop, yet he proceeded. That was until he noticed someone crying on the park bench, the one-eyed man skidding to a halt, curling around their bag, hugging it tightly. Basil was anxious to approach the stranger on the bench, remembering how his curiosity almost killed him at the alley. Strangely, something in his gut told him that this person was harmless. He gulped, slowly stepping towards them. He cleared his throat, "Ex-excuse me. Are you alright?" He softly asked, tugging his hair anxiously, stopping until he was inches from the bench. Basil examines the person with concern, noticing the bruising on their arm and bite marks on their neck. They cover their mouth with a hand, chewing at the bottom of his lip, "Oh, dear! If they don't get treated now, there's a chance they could be infected. With the weather becoming colder, you be extra ill. Um," Basil shuffles side to side, a nervous lump in their throat, yet he still smiled, "I know this may sound weird, but I can tell that you're a good person and know you won't harm. If you like," he fumbles his fingers together, picking at his nails, "you can visit my place while I tend to your wounds. Wait," his eyes widen, a slight blush on his cheeks, "that sounded creepy. I swear I'm not trying to be weird." He rambled, moving his eye to the ground below, his blushing intensifying. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Joaquin Aziel-Kallikrates Driscoll
522 | Male | Justicar | Ducanio | Mentions: Tauekel (dir/ind) The male wasn't expecting the other to be so calm about this. He was practically about to melt, however somehow the later managed to make his fear disappear for a little while. He didn't know why he was so shy when it came to small stuff like this, after all he wasn't so shy earlier. Maybe it was because he was still here and hadn't been forced out. It seemed this one-night stand was possibly turning into something more and he wasn't sure he minded it going in that direction. After all this was one of the few times that he has actually felt rather treasured in a relationship - and so he gave a small snicker at him , with a small smile. And his eyes widened, and he tilted his head at the nickname , his hair cascaded to the side as he looked in confusion, " Little Fox ? " was Tauekel referring to him. He scrunched his nose in confusion as he pondered the nickname - or would it be a pet name. Goddess, he was confused about this. But he assumed the nickname was for him , and he doesn't know why it made him so giddy to have such a nickname. It was stupid to be happy about such a silly thing but he was. He was shocked when the clothes were revealed to be for him. If his eyes could have stars in them he would, and his own bright smile matched Tauekel's and he was forgetting his embarrassment slowly, and then the man casually mentioned him joining him in in the shower. Join him in the shower? It echoed in his mind, well that was a bit forward, he mused, but he wasn't against the offer . It was just odd considering most clients or people were like this when they were with him. He found it sort of sweet and endearing in a way - he took a tentative step forward into the restroom, the door closing behind him and he turns to look at said door. Well, he couldn't back out now he thought as his eyes lingered on the closed door momentarily, but then back on Tauekel. " I don't think I would mind joining you, after all I did plan on taking a shower before putting on the clothes. Quite frankly, I'm a bit taken back, not all can be quite forward in their needs." He gave a coy giggle at the thought. He was feeling a bit more better, and he then gave a flirtatious grin at the mention of him being the shower would be nice . And who was he to disappoint, "Well my good sir, if you insist. I'd be honored to join you in the shower." He gave a small laugh when he realized he was being looked at, and he felt a bit nervous. So he felt himself shrink in the blanket band pointing to himself saying, " Is there something on my face?" Feeling a bit self conscious, but he noticed a fond expression and lightened up and forced himself to venture closer . And he had to admit his nerves were spiking as he did so, but the few words next had him freeze for a second with a stunned expression, if anything he wouldn't have been surprised if animal ears had poofed into existence at his growing flustered nature. Too handsome to be tense? Well that was an unusual compliment but one none the less, and he wasn't sure if the male was just saying to make him feel comfortable or if he genuinely meant any of his words. But he had some sense of feeling that the male meant every single word he spoke because the type of warmth coming from his tone would be hard to fake, and that's a lot coming from him.
He was soon at the shower door, and he was comfortable with removing the bedsheet that he had wrapped around him - and he took a ginger step into the shower. The warmth of the steam hit his skin and it feel quite good, if he was showering with his hair out - he might as well let some of it get wet. But he wasn't focused on that at the moment. He was more so focused on the absolute specimen of a vampire before him - hell, even the height difference between the two made him giddy like a schoolgirl for some reason unknown to him. He then moved forward, and gingerly placed his hands on the other's chest with a rather placid expression on his face, as he leaned forward and placed his head on the chest momentarily before removing himself and looking at the male with a genuine curiosity, he just couldn't help but feel curious. " You know , you surprise me," he says softly, his eyes on the male with a rather uncertain look, " most people I've slept with would be rather rude and pushy, and yet you? You've been nothing of a perfect gentleman, but . . . why? I don't think you have an alternative motives, but I can't see a reason for you to be kind to me, I'm practically a stranger." He gave a melodramatic laugh , but you could see the nerves there, " most would've have already kicked me out by now, and instead of giving me new and beautiful clothes like you did, I would've been lucky to even get my old ones back." He then realized he was possibly souring the mood and so he gave a sigh saying, " And look at me souring the mood, well I guess, what I'm trying to say is . . . thank you . While most of my experiences with clients have been rather unsavory, you'd have to be my favorite I'd have to say. " and a mischievous smile crossed his face saying, " hell , you make a big feel so special, I might just offer up my number to you so we can hang out ouside of this. I know it's a bit forward, but I'd like to see where we'd go together - that is if you're willing." And he placed a gentle hand back on his chest with a small smile . |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Malakai | 378 | M | Baron | Zanit Mentions, Basil (dir.), Harper (dir.) . The day soon became heavily boring for the man. That was until he decided to take a stroll around town. He could take his vehicle but that wouldn't be as meaningful, and he could really take in his surroundings a lot more so why not? He had nothing better to do. Malakai made his way to the town, keeping his hands placed in his pockets. The cold breeze from the wind creeped up on him, causing him to shiver slightly. Malakai was never a big fan of the cold, but it was what nature intended. He pushed up his glasses slightly as he looked around. The town seemed busy yet quiet at the same time. It was very contradicting yet confusing. His gaze shifted from one shop to another. Dark alleyways creeped up on him every now and then but Malakai knew better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.
. His gaze shifted over to a park nearby. Perfect. Malakai was always fond of parks, they were so calming to him. Unless bratty children were there. He crossed the street and entered the park with no intention to socialize, that is, until he noticed something quite unusual. Two blood grifters seemed to be conversing near one of the benches, yet in a frantic state. Well, the one seemed very frantic. He couldn't quite remember the one's name but he was very familiar with the other one, Basil. If he remembered correctly. It seemed an incident had occurred. Malakai was never one to partake in confrontation but he couldn't just leave them be. . The man slowly walked over to them, careful not to spook them. He turned his head towards the one, noticing something fairly normal yet strange about them. He cocked his head with concern before finally speaking. "Is everything alright?" His voice was very comforting and soft, as he didn't want to put out an aggressive manner. That was, before he realized whatever happened was not alright. The blood gifter seemed to have bite marks implanted in them. But the way they were acting told Malakai everything he needed to know. This was quite clearly not consensual. . He drifted his gaze over to Basil, who had already seemed frantic enough but yet calm, offering assistance towards the fellow traumatized blood gifter. Malakai couldn't keep his eyes off the bite marks and bruises. He turned towards the blood gifter before speaking. "May I?" He said in a condescending voice before gently grasping their arm to inspect closely. "A lot of force seemed to have taken place. If you two would like, you guys can come with me back to my place and I can treat it. I should have some medical supplies for something like this." He offered. Malakai had hoped they didn't feel a certain way, considering a vampire casually walked up to them and invaded their conversation. But to be fair, Kai has always been more of the helpful type. In his eyes, blood grifters are highly important to the community. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Fiahd Aed Payne 182 | F, Justicar | Jaycos cabin and woods | M: Jayco
The scent of Jayco enveloped the cabin he frequently was at. Bodies strewn left and right in the cabin some set up in chairs. As if they were merely here for lunch. The sound of creaking wood Timbers sounded above them. Fiahd hung by her legs from the cabins ceiling beam. Dangling looking almost like she was trying to poke one of the bodies. Frustrated she couldn't reach. Her legs unhooked and she fell. Landing on all fours on the table which gave a groan of protest at the sudden weight. Grabbing a napkin she tied it around the neck of the dead body heading the table. "There there sir now you won't be getting all messy" patting his cheek and a slight giggle resonated.
• Fiahd had been back about a week from her two month mission. Letting little rumors of herself being back spread before she showed back up in court. The smell of fear resonated off the ones who heard sending happy shivers up her spine. Having taken up residence in Jaycos cabins attic. She covered her scent and sound when he had arrived earlier. To tired for interaction that morning. But she hadn't needed too for long as he had just left again. It had been awhile since she had seen her fellow crazy redhead. Hungry now she deemed it time to follow him. Skipping to the door she waved goodbye to Jaycos cabin friends blowing them a kiss. "Nice to meet all of you!" • As she walked out the entrance a shimmer of light passed over her. As she shifted into her shadow cat form. A creature that looks like a medium sized snow leopard with antlers. Her paws also ended in razor sharp talons. Now on four paws her lithe fast body tracked Jaycos scent. Following him deep into the woods. Maybe he had a snack she was extremely hungry. The voices that constantly flitted or screamed through her mind where extra loud today. One particular squirrels voice sent her over the top and she crunched happily on her new snack. Trotting throught the woods towards the origin of the scent she was following. Her slitted green eyes focusing as she picked up a separate but familiar scent. Juliet was here as well. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Harper Carnell | 21 | Genderfluid (she/him) | Pansexual Ambi | Blood-Gifter M: Basil + Kai (Dep) Harper was not quite sure where to run to, but she just ran until her legs burned and collapsed under her. As she collided with the ground, the cement slowly grew damp with salty tears. After a moment, Harper shakily sat up, tilting his head back as his breath hitched and hiccuped with every sob he gave to the cloud-covering sky. The sun felt so distant and cold but Harper had not the energy to wrap his jacket tighter around himself or hide his face in his scarlet scarf. Harper could not tell if the winds were throwing leaves in her face to mock her or if the winds were trying to blow away the tears. No matter the level of the benevolence of the wind, the cold scratched and bit at Harper’s raw wounds and wet face. You would think the world would be warmer when the leaves on the trees were still a vibrant shade of orange and red. Standing on a pair of jello-boned legs, Harper cursed everything in a pitiful fit of fury that choked Harper causing broken gasps of air to come from her trembling lips. “Stupid!” Harper screamed, throwing her bag down off her shoulder and onto the ground. Reeling back her leg, she swung it forward against the bag before striking it again. “M-Mother-stupid-fucking-shit!” The anger burned and boiled in unbearable pain but then it slowly fizzled out with each kick. At that moment, Harper felt like such a child, a pitiful, worthless child, too. “God…” Harper fell into a park bench and pulled his bag off the ground and hugged it close as any semblance of anger was now replaced with a nagging, gnawing feeling in his chest. “Stupid… I’m so… I’m s-so…” Harper broke off back into tears as she covered her mouth with her hand and held her bag close to her chest. Motionless except for the uncontrollable shaking her body was riddled with, the trees shed their golden leaves around Harper as someone new approached. Time passed like a lone kid on a Ferris wheel with the ride operator out for lunch: it kept looping, repeating, and there seemed to be no end in sight. People would pass by Harper, seeing her wounds and faults on full display, but the leaves would not stop being crushed by their feet as they continued. No one gave red-eyed, sniffling Harper a second glance. Harper flinched as the sound of crunching leaves stopped and was replaced by a clear voice. Harper ignored it, believing they must have been talking to someone else. After the voice continued and the footsteps did not, Harper finally looked up from her bag, her bright blue eyes still red as dried tears sat on her cheeks. The person had blonde hair, comfortable clothes, and one eye, a strange appearance for a strangely nice person. They did look cute, if Harper were to be honest, but there was no reason for them to actually be nice at the moment. Unless this person was the most gullible and naive person in the world, they probably had ulterior motives. “Do you really only care about helping because you think some random stranger you meet is a good person?” Harper asked with a scoff sitting up a little and whipping his eyes as he turned away. Why would this person be trying to help them? Was it their revealing outfit? Based on their weird comment, probably. “Look, whatever it is you want from me, do me a favor and just be honest about whatever it is now. If you are taking me to your home so you can live out your nurse fantasies, that’d normally be 150 but I will make it just one Benjamin for a cute face like you~” Harper felt sick from having to still say things like this after their not-so pleasant morning. Suddenly someone else was joining the crew of people who just wanted to disturb Harper at her lowest. Harper tried to pay no attention to the new torturer, just curling backup without even looking at the person. In fact, Harper had been paying such little attention that he did not hear the vampire asking for permission to touch Harper. Every bone in her body tensed as the man grabbed right by the bruises left by repeated use of those blood-magic handcuffs and by Quinn’s rough hands. Harper’s fear turned quickly to anger. “What is your problem, you—” As Harper turned to finally face the man, her eyes widened and she broke off instantly. This man had to be a vampire. Shifting slightly away from the man, Harper pulled on his scarf to hide the bloody stain on his neck before covering his bruised lip with his hand. Harper was not sure if this human was aware of the existence of vampires but she was aware of the probable reason why the vampire approached, he was definitely looking to take advantage of Harper in her wounded state. Though the vampire had a calm, gentle demeanor, it had to have all been a front. In that moment, though there was still the high probability of being killed by the hands of the human or worse, Harper made a decision. “Thanks… for the offer, but my friend here already agreed to help me out.” Trying to weasel her hand out of his grasp, Harper stood and heaved her bag back over her shoulder. “We’ll be heading out now, if you don’t mind.” |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Cath-Oswic Lykaios | ~500-600 | Male | (Adopted) Royal Offspring | Vaemris | Mentions; Elioeni(Ind). Outfit; https://postimg.cc/Cz9KjTtR - Cath-Oswic shifted, tilting his head to get comfortable, and found his movement to be restricted. Eyes blinking open, confusion beginning to settle in. A split second was all it took though, a split second before confusion was replaced with fear. -- He didn’t know how he hadn’t recognized it immediately. Didn’t know how the scent had bypassed his senses. Didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed the pain. The stinging pain at his wrists, the aching sore pain at his neck, the assortment of other pains all around. The ground digging into his knees, iron digging into his wrists, and neck, and under his jaw. Head tilted down as much as possible, eyes now open and staring down at the ground. -- The ground. The dirt ground stained with blood, with vomit. With pain. Eyes reached up, searching for something- Anything, really, to tell him this wasn’t real. That he wasn’t back. He couldn’t be back. He was supposed to be out now, he was supposed to be free. -- All he was met with were the walls of the small room, if it could even be called that, stained just as well. Eyes went up to the ceiling, to the familiar cracks and crevices. His eyes traveled to right in front of him, to where he could see the bars. The bars that kept him here. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be out. Free. Why wasn’t he out? This couldn’t be real. He was out. He was supposed to be out. He was supposed to be free. -- He needed out. He needed to get out. He didn’t know what had happened, but- But- He needed to get out, get back to everyone. Get out. He pulled against the chains at his wrists, trying to pull them from the wall. To get out. He needed out. Nothing, they didn’t move, not really. All they did was dig into his skin, making his hands go slick with blood as he continued to pull against them. -- Panic set in, he pulled harder, it continued to do nothing but make his panic grow. Make his hands slicker with blood, the scent filling the air. He needed out- He was supposed to be out- How did he even get here again? He killed them- He couldn’t- How did they get him back here? He was supposed to be free! He was supposed to be out! -- A traitorous side of his mind whispered that maybe that had been fake. That he had never gotten out. That he’d come up with that on his own. To pass the time. He didn’t want to believe that, he didn’t- He should be out. He had to be out. The pain at his wrists, at his knees as he dug them into the ground trying to use them to pull against the chains harder, only continued to grow. The scent of blood filled the air, he pulled against the collar of iron around his neck, pulled against the chains connecting it, and him, to the wall. Nearly choking himself in his attempt to get out. To get away. Ignoring the burning feeling behind his eyes, knowing full well that his ability to actually produce and release tears had left him. He was supposed to be free! Why wasn’t he free!? -- His breathing picked up steadily, until it wasn’t steady. Not by a long shot. He continued to pull, to thrash against the binds. He needed out. He wanted out. He wanted out— He didn’t want it to have been made up. He didn’t want it to have been fake. He didn’t- He was supposed to be free now! Why wasn’t he— -- His ears, once well trained to hear the footsteps of the guards, of the handlers of the arena; were apparently still well trained, the sharp and heavy footfalls cutting through the clutter in his mind. Making his breath fall short, a lump in his tightening throat that was keeping him from breathing. Fear gripped his undead heart, forcing him to still and his eyes to stare. Ragged nails dug into his palms, nails that never had been cut but always ended up breaking off somehow. -- And then his eyes caught sight of one of the guards, and he was trying to get closer to the wall. Away from them. He didn’t- He didn’t want to be here- He didn’t understand why he was- How he was- He was supposed to be out— The guards stood outside the bars, watching him, sneering, grinning. They found their way in, closer. His back hit against the wall behind him, some of the hanging chains there digging into him. He snarled, gritted his teeth, stared forward at the guards. -- One laughed, their mouth moving, he couldn’t quite catch what was said. The laughter bounced around in his head too loud, the same as it had always been. Fear clutched at him, panic steadily rising as he couldn’t— He couldn’t do this- He couldn’t be back- He didn’t want to be here- He wasn’t supposed to be here— -- One grinned, crouched in front of him, his legs kicked, trying to push away. Trying to put more distance between him and them. The hard wall and chains there dug into his back. A hand reached out, his head twisted back, trying to get away. The hand still grabbed him, there wasn’t much he could actually do to keep it from managing that. Rough, gripping his chin and jaw, forcing him to look at them. At the grin, at the pride and disgust intermixing in their eyes. -- “Did you really think you could ever possibly get away?” They sneered at him, he flinched away from the voice. The same voice he had known, the same voice they’d always had. “As if a monster like you could ever escape. Even if you did, we’ll get you back.” -- They let go, standing, kicking at him as they laughed. He wanted out. He was supposed to be free. They watched him, grinning and sneering. “We always will.” -- Their laughter echoed in his mind, but louder than that this time- Were the words. The promise in them. He wanted- He couldn’t- He was supposed to be— He’d never be— -- Oswic didn’t get a nice awakening. He didn’t scream, he didn’t blink his eyes open slowly either. No, none of that. When he woke up, he sat up straight and pulled at the collar of his shirt, his entirety covered in cold, slick sweat. His breathing ragged, eyes wide, hand leaving his shirt and grabbing at his head as he tried and failed to focus. -- The words from his nightmare continued to echo in his mind, continued to taunt him, and continued to blur his vision. He’d killed them. He’d killed them. They couldn’t find him. They couldn’t take him back. They weren’t alive. They couldn’t. But— What if they were? What if he only thought he’d killed them and any moment now they’d be back— A lump in his throat, the hand still at his shirt clasped over his mouth as he tried to choke back and shove down the scream threatening to spill. -- He didn’t want to go back— He didn’t- He couldn’t go back— He couldn’t— He simply couldn’t— Tears he thought he’d never be able to shed again threatened to spill as his vision just got worse and worse. His breathing was doing no better, fast and shallow breaths of him practically gasping for air was all he could manage. Phantom pains from the nightmare at his wrists, knees, back, and neck were increasingly hard to ignore. Was he asleep now? Was he already back? How long did he have until he woke up and was back in that damned place? - He heard the door to his room open. (Which, in all honesty, was something that he still hadn’t gotten used to. Even after years of living here. Having a room. A nice room, at that.) Regardless, the noise didn’t really break him from his thoughts. If anything, they only managed to make him wonder if this was some sort of twisted hallucination. Some sort of sick joke and he was already back at the arena. In that cell. Because that was what it was. A cell. -- His body shook with tremors, one hand clutching at his head, his hair; threatening to pull some out, his other hand still clasped against his mouth, unable to tell when the threat of any sort of noise had passed, his vision blurry and unable to focus. The collar of his pajama shirt felt too tight, like the iron around his neck— No, no. There wasn’t any iron around his neck. Not right now. Never again. Please, never again. How likely was that though? They’d find him- Wouldn’t they? They weren’t actually dead. They were just biding their time and any moment— Were they who had come into this room? Here to grab him and drag him back?! His eyes wouldn’t focus enough to let him see, and he couldn’t really move his head with how harshly his own hands were holding it. But— He needed to move- If- If they were here. He needed to move. He needed to get away. He needed to- To- He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t get his thoughts in order. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t- He couldn’t go back. His hands tightened, nails digging into skin, and fear clung to him like he really was already back in the arena. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Sebastian Castiel Serkonos | 426 | Male | Justicar | Vaemris | Mentions: Noelle Sebastian rose early, the last rays of the sun slowly sinking below the horizon as he slipped out of his bedroom and quietly opened the door to Noelle’s room. The young royal was sleeping fitfully, moaning softly as they curled tighter in on themselves. Sebastian frowned, unhappy that there was nothing he could do to help his liege. As a vampire the justicar was no stranger to blood, but the feminine nature of Noelle’s problem was something Sebastian was wholly unprepared to deal with. Shaking his head, Sebastian slipped out of the room as quietly as he had entered it, hoping to find Shanahan or one of the other thralls that could help Noelle. The residence of Thanos’s youngest child wasn’t enormous by any means, but neither was it particularly small either. After an hour or so of searching fruitlessly for Shanahan or another familiar thrall, Sebastian gave up and decided that it might be more productive to simply patrol the manor and hope he ran into Shanahan along the way. He made his way to the nearest exit and began his rounds. At this time of night all was quiet, most vampires having yet to rise from their beds. Autumn was well and truly finished, with most trees having lost their leaves weeks ago. A slight frost had formed on the ground, and each of Sebastian’s steps crunched softly as he made his way around the building’s perimeter, bright eyes alert and scanning every nook and cranny where the shadows might conceal danger. By the time Sebastian completed his patrol, the moon had fully passed the horizon and was bathing everything in sight with its silver light. With one last deep inhale of the cold air, Sebastian opened the main doors of the house and made his way back to his room. Thanos had scheduled an important meeting tonight to discuss the aftermath of the Red Night, and Sebastian knew that meant he needed to dress to impress. Normally the justicar didn’t care much about his appearance beyond staying neat and tidy, but first impressions were important and he spent more time than usual carefully putting an outfit together. After a half hour or so, Sebastian stood in front of his bathroom mirror, critically analyzing his completed outfit: ankle-length black lace up boots with matching socks, tailored slate gray slacks, and a white button up shirt under a gray and white pin-striped waistcoat. Deciding that something was missing, he picked up a mahogany tie with a subtle paisley pattern picked out in black thread and expertly tied it around his neck. Lastly, he opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled out a worn mahogany leather belt with several matching pouches, as well as a small knife sheath with the accompanying knife still in it. The belt and its add-ons had been a gift from his sire, and Sebastian’s hands stilled as he remembered Gideon’s dying words. We are Vaemris Sebastian, and the moment we lose our honor is the moment we are truly dead. It had been decades since Gideon’s death, but his words had never left his childe’s thoughts. With a heavy sigh, Sebastian threaded the belt on, adding the various accessories as he went until he had a pouch on either hip and the knife sheath at the small of his back. On his way out of the room he went to the mini-fridge humming beside the window and pulled out several vials of blood. Gently, he inserted the vials into their slots inside each pouch before closing the lid and tying them securely. Now ready for whatever the night might bring, Sebastian strode purposefully out of his room and towards Noelle’s chambers. As before, Noelle was the room’s only inhabitant. Their pain seemed to have subsided somewhat, as the younger vampire was now slumped in a seated position against the headboard of their bed. “Little Ember?” Sebastian spoke softly, not wanting to wake their master if they were actually still asleep. “Are you feeling any better? I thought Mr. Marcellus would’ve had you up and preparing for your father’s meeting by now. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?” |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Elioeni Micah Sephtis | 159 | Male | He/him | Thrall | Utalea | M: Cath-Oswic Lykaios(dir). Elle checked his watch, letting out a tentative exhale. He undid a button of his collar, it felt tight. He was- in short- suffering a bit. He rubbed his silk gloved hands behind his back, fidgeting so he'd keep himself composed as he walked down the hall. Taking long strides as if he had anything to do, and he did. He was supposed to check on Lord Cath-Oswic in a little while but he could feel the bandage rubbing over the raw wound. The fabric over it may have been soft gauze but it was making the wound sting, itch and burn. He did not want the whole castle to know he was nursing a wound. The actions he'd done to gain it may lose what trust he had in the legion. He took a shaky breath. He slipped into the kitchen and glanced around, head tilted gently. He looked behind him and walked in. He looked around to make sure Lord Cath-Oswic would have food at hand. He rubbed a plate between his fingers and narrowed his soft green eyes. He cleaned a little to pass the time, making sure he was clean afterward. He moved on the the kitchen, passing Lord Lykaios' room. Silence. He came up on the common area, still having time before he needed to awaken his Lord. He made an uncomfortable expression, the ache of his shoulder beginning to overwhelm. He slipped into the restroom and took his black vest off, laying it on the counter. He unbuttoned his shirt and grimaced as he pulled out his arm. He took a glove off and quickly unravelled the bandage, making a face at the wound. He felt chilled as half of his torso was exposed, at least he was alone. He much more carefully re-wrapped his bicep, the compression felt a little better. He eased his arm in the sleeve, buttoning his green shirt again. He tucked the shirt in his pants, then slipped his glove and vest back on. His arm was back to the erie, dull ache where it had been for the past week. He checked his watch. Time to check on him. He walked back to Cath-Oswic's room, he rolled back his shoulders and stood straighter. He knocked on the door gently. "Lord Oswic?" He could hear panicked breathing, he opened the door and peeked in. He immediately stepped in, shutting the door. Oswic probably wouldn't want anyone to watch his troubles, especially not other Thralls. He walked over and pulled the sheet off, using it to make a breeze, he could see the layer of cold-sweat on his skin. "It's alright, Lord Oswic, you're awake.. It's just me, Elioeni." Elle said softly, Irish accent apparent in the way he spoke, the master didn't look like he recognized the Thrall. He noticed he was rubbing the collar of his shirt. His fit must be blurring his mind. He thought as he cautiously unbuttoned the top two buttons- incase he didn't realize it was Elle, then continued to fan him with the sheet more, he winced for a moment. Now he was sitting out of the way on the bed. He couldn't tell if Cath was calming down or not. He didn't usually use his powers, but now seemed appropriate to use his presence to calm the poor man. He hummed soothingly a lullaby, as his way of persuading him to calmess. It was quite smooth and gentle. Nothing could explain how confused he was by the panicked breathing, hair-pulling, cold-sweats and red, stinging eyes.Perhaps he'd had a nightmare? He didn't think asking was a good idea, nor did Cath look like he was in the mood. He narrowed his green eyes, remaining calm so he could keep humming and calming the distressed master. His left arm lay on his left thigh, each movement sent a jolt of pain up through his shoulder. Must've hit a nerve. He had noticed there was less feeling in his left hand than he remembered. Thankfully he was righthanded and at the moment hadn't a care whether or not he could use it, he was focusing on hiding the fact that at the moment he couldn't. He looked away at the walls, Oswic's room was nice, an intrecate color-scheme and minimalistic style, much like his own- except his had more green in it, his favorite color. He was still using the sheet to fan the distressed brunette and reached into his inside vest's breast pocket to touch the linen fibers hidden inside. He dropped his left hand, wincing in another direction before he looked back at Oswic. The linen had calmed himself more, he hoped that would transfer to Master Oswic. He'd barely spoken, having been humming the whole time till he turned away. He stopped fanning the Master and stood, laying the sheet in a triangle looking way by the foot of his bed. "Would you like me to ready a shower or bath for you?" He asked tentatively. |
|
|
Summer 
Day Weather: 
Light Rain
