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diannamaeveâ:
         âI knowâŚ.I know,â Dianna does not pertain to anger much in her life, sheâs never found herself imbued with aggravation but it consumes her now in tandem with the hunger that resounds in her stomach, mixes with the grief in her heart and protrudes as a weapon. Sheâs unsure of who would be caught in the collateral of her grief but in the moment, swept up within it all, sheâs not particularly concerned, only grounded as Amalaâs forehead touches against hers in a rare display of softness from the Senator of Pluto. She doesnât mean to crumble their relationship, itâs not like Dianna to fall apart, sheâs kept it together for so long, but the mention of the marshalâs has her spiraling in a sad legato, âThe marshalâs are already incapable! Amala, all of this, is too far out of our reach, weâŚ.â She shakes her head, then nods as though thereâs this autonomous inner voice quelling her with reasoning, âWe have to go,â she resonates Amalaâs words, a deep sigh escaping her as she stands tall. âPlease donât stay this time,â itâs stated as is but translates to the matter that she canât lose her too, she wonât.
Dianna is right. She was right and that is why they had to move. âThereâs so many ways out of here.â Itâs not right to ignore her plea, itâs really not. Itâs been months and she canât think about Halloween, butt especially not now when she knows those witches have to be around here somewhere. Amala wonders if they had a hand in this, too. If theyâd slipped in and the leech had been with them the whole time. The thought makes her jaw set but the thought is there and gone when the blonde straightens up. âWeâre going to have to split up, but listen to me, you will meet me at your doorstep later. I promise you that.â Forehead still to Diannaâs, her head tips and their mouths meet and there is nothing soft about it, it is desperate, it is a promise. âI have to look for something. I canât leave without it. But the room that held the ceremony, thereâs passages for the Pope to escape. You have to go.â She canât just go, not withoutt first dealing with things herself, not without setting things right. Sheâll never forgive herself if she doesnât, no matter what it cost. âI wonât be too far behind.âÂ
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diannamaeveâ:
         Diannaâs kindness was a weapon, her shield, the sentiment abandoned as the fervor of the evening clouded her senses. Sheâd always been a pragmatic woman, vampire, one who did not let the gluttony of vampirism consume her but to see Elmiraâs listless body cracked and fragmented something with in her. She was addled further by the miasma of different blood, a vertiginous and unrelenting bout of fey, druid, vampire, witches; all their blood amalgamated into a potent enchantment. âThe bride is dead,â her voice is faraway, saddled with grief but resounding so cold amidst the cacophony of screams and snarls. âItâs her wedding night and sheâs dead,â itâd sounded so impersonal as though Elmira wasnât a kindred spirit, a pillar of softness within a community so pigeonholed by savagery.
âLove, we have to go.â It hurts her to say it, to disregard the obvious pain the blonde is in. Amala didnât know the queen consort personally, she knew that she was a pillar in the community, that sheâd bought flowers from her for every party she threw. Way back when, sheâd thought Venus vampires were predispositioned to be softer, kind, she thought thatâs why theyâd been the ones to befriend the fey. Thereâs tears in her eyes that she refuses to acknowledge as her hands move from Diannaâs face and go to the side of her neck, her shoulders. Because Dianna might not be of the Venus bloodline, but she was like that, she was softer, she was kind. And Amala had been declawed long ago, thatâs what everyone whispered, thatâs what she believed after the Palace of Pluto had fallen. She could not protect them from what had no doubt been the leech, not even with an itch at the back of her throat, in her fingers. She was fighting every instinct not to tear someone apart, to join the fray. Dianna first, she could save one person and it wasnât going to be herself. âIt could be any one of us next, we canât stay.â In a last attempt at sweetness, a moment of grief for the fallen bride, the friend of someone important to her, her forehead nudges against the other womanâs gently as tears well up in her own eyes. Frustration, itâs not sadness, itâs not grief that drives her. Itâs her lack of control on the situation, if the leech was dead, if the marshalâs had been able to find it, maybe this wouldnât have happened. Theyâd be having a different conversation, perhaps shedding different tears. âIf this escalates, the marshalâs wonât be able to contain it.â
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ezekielurquhartâ:
âDid you-?â Ezekiel doesnât know how to ask this, he ignored her question entirely along with her explanation. That wasnât what he meant and thereâs a part of him that suspects that she knows this. The vampire had started to put two and two together but what Ezekiel didnât understand was why. Why would she have done this to him? He remembered who killed him, or rather, who left him for dead��� What he remembered next was the sound of footprints. Tsking. Was this her way of saving him, or cursing him? âWhy did you do it?â The vampire asked instead, blue eyes searching unknowable irises for any indication of the truth. Sheâd broken the law when she hasnât stayed by his side. He killed someone because of her. Was this just some sort of game?
-
She could make up an excuse, she could turn around and leave, it was a wedding, she was a senator, she had mingling to do. But Amala owed him, and sheâd been fooling herself to think that she could just walk away from a progeny. âYouâre so young.â And she doesnât walk away from him then and there, looks to him with genuine sincerity in her voice. âAnd you were one of them.â An Amaranthus witch, part of the coven that was practically archaic in practice. Itâd crossed her mind to free him from that and instead make him something she thought was better and if he didnât think sheâd bestowed a gift upon him, sheâd at least give him another shot at life. âI couldnât let you die there. But if I came out as your sire itâd looked planned. Things are already so tense with the witches. I knew you were in good hands. I thought one day weâd talk.â Rhia had taken care of him because of course she had, the woman was one of her oldest friends and one of the fiercest vampires sheâd come to know. âBut I also didnât want you to have to be the progeny of a senator.â Held to a high standard, perhaps watched too closely, scrutinized for any decision he made and itâd all come back to her. It wouldnât be fair for a fledgling, it wasnât fair for a young man whoâd been given another shot.Â
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lulucretiasâ:
augustcavaliere¡:
The whole thing was very entertaining, August, to no oneâs surprise, was really enjoying himself. Vampires were easier to manipulate when they were in a frenzy and there was nothing quite so soothing as watching a harpy blow someoneâs head up with a scream, or seeing a lion shred someone to pieces. The Asphodel had had their fun, crashed the wedding that in the end didnât even need them to make it exciting, the vampires were poised to do that all by themselves.Â
âMe.âÂ
August said dramatically, gasping as his hand clutched his chest, the vampire was a senator. Worth killing. Worth humiliating. Worth reminding that no matter what they did, the Asphodel were going to crush the senate underneath their boot. âI mean, youâre welcome to try: a walking corpse cornering a necromancer, you clearly thought this one through.â The witch observed, blood ran down from her teeth but she wasnât like the others, no, she was hateful and vengeful. The senator was only using this frenzy as a cover. That was something August could appreciate. With a gesture he used destruction to fling her against the wall, with a few curt words he transmuted the churchâs gilding to entwine around the vampireâs limbs like golden snakes, fixing her in place as they turned solid and bound her there.Â
âSo many dramatics, you really know how to throw a killer fucking party.â August was so funny, he was sure sheâd appreciate that one. âLucretia!â The witch called out, knowing full well how the chimera would feel if he left her out of this. âCome watch me turn this senator into a terror!â When he was done Amala wouldnât be able to harm him, sheâd have her life again, but she wouldnât be a vampire. His sense of humor knew no bounds.Â
@lulucretias¡
The vampires were losing their minds, but that didnât much matter to Lucretia. Her reasoning for being at this wedding in the first place was chaotic in nature. She liked to cause problems. Plus, August had technically invited her to this thing. When he had suggested matching, she had immediately taken it into consideration and then threw it right into the metaphorical garbage can. Hence why she was wearing green and had somewhat suggested that Bebe do the same even though the demon was not at all allowed into the Vatican. But it was amusing to see the look on the witchâs face when she had showed up not matching with him. He had a boyfriend. They could enjoy their own little matching moment together with Augustâs stupid little crown.
Nevertheless, the vampires. They were indeed thirsty and she was not letting herself get bitten. If they tried, they would be in for a rude awakening when she did one little simple scream. No matter how out of control they were, she was not going to excuse them. They should have been more prepared for a situation such as this. That was their own fault they were all so feral. She was just swerving out of the way of one when she heard her name getting called. There was her dear August finally involving her in something she could enjoy. It was probably just to get on her good side after the slight, but she would take it.
She ran over to where he was to stand near him. Then she looked over at said senator and tilted her head. âOh no, sheâs hot.â Her arms folded over her chest. âI think the terror thing might suit her. Please do continue. Canât just make empty threats.â
Itâd been a mistake to give them time to speak at all. Witches were entitled, dramatic, could he not be smug enough already? Had they not taken enough from her? Amala thrashes against the metal, cursing herself for not just going for them when sheâd had the chance. The years had made her softer, dulled the claws that used to defend her home. She knew what people called her, the snide whisperings of âselloutâ, that sheâd once had so much promise, so much fight in her. Maybe she deserved this after all, not death but becoming something far worse than what she was now. âYouâre going to wish you killed me!â She hisses, eyes narrowed and going back and forth between both Asphodel coven members. Thatâd been their mistake the first time, leaving her in the broken ruins of her home, giving her time to seethe, to unravel. âI will come back worse.â It was a promise, not just to them, but to herself. Sheâd done it once, sheâd do it again, and again, and again, until she finally felt satisfied, until she could finally protect what was hers.Â
@augustcavaliereâ
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âIâm a senator, itâs a royal wedding.â Itâs a really good alibi, completely solid, and yet she canât help but feel a little bad about being dishonest with him. Itâd been a selfish decision to turn him but it hadnât entirely been misguided, thereâs so much potential in him and if things were different, she does truly think sheâd enjoy being there for him. A little ditzy, but it wasnât like she was all that booksmart herself, sheâd been a girl whoâd lived by a river all those years ago. No prospects, no promise, just ambition, and someone else had seen that in her and remade her anew. âHow are you doing? Indulging?â Her brow raises and itâs an easy way to steer the conversation and she does genuinely need to know.Â
@amalasinghâ location: royal wedding notes: pluto vampires unite
âWhat is it about you, huh?â Ezekiel asked, heâd noticed her stealing glances at him and after all this time there was something almost undeniable between them. He remembered the feeling heâd get when he was in the coven, when someone was channelling him or checking up on him - that invisible tether that existed when one was joined to another. In a weird way it was sort of like that, though more accurate would be all that time he spent as someoneâs thrall. That connection that went without saying, Amala was the only person he still felt that with. âYouâre here, youâre out on the trail, youâre everywhere.âÂ
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Person: @augustcavaliereâ Location: As heâs tryna sneak out The whole place is in chaos, the tension that has plagued the whole ceremony has come to a head and Amala is an opportunist, if sheâs not going to be able to control herself, sheâs going to make it count. Itâs something sheâs conscious about as she moves from room to room, teeth sinking into a mortal if they get in her way, less to drink from and more to maim. Sheâd been made a fool of at Halloween when those witches had left her home in ruins, her once cozy seat on senate now practically burned her. It kept her from taking matters into her own hands and one of those damn Asphodel witches had to be around somewhere, they were far too smug to stay away, she just- âYou.â The witch was so tall he was hard to miss as he ducked into the hall and she doesnât waste any time in hurrying after him, practically throwing people out of her way. Thereâs too many people, other vampires fighting each other for a shot at the blood of a mortal, fey, or worse, each other. âI should kill you!â She calls after him, emerging into the hall, fangs bared and dress ripped in several places.Â
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Location: Reception Hall Person: @diannamaeveâ
The screaming from upstairs seems to be enough to tip the scales on what already felt like a tense evening. The dancing stops, the music, itâs just screaming and a flurry of motion all around them and she feels her fangs in her mouth, can smell blood, fresh spilled. Amala wants to move towards it, she wants to sink her teeth into one of those eladrins maybe, go at one of the few wolves that managed to weasel their way in. But she still had a tether to sanity, Dianna at her side and the realization of what must have happened sinking in. Turning to look towards the blonde, she canât bring herself to speak, only hold out her arms to her. They donât have time to grieve, the commotion has already whipped everyone into a frenzy. âWe canât stay here.âÂ
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ezekielurquhartâ:
This old world sounded nice, though the fact that there was no wifi or indoor plumbing was kind of a turnoff for him. As it was he did what he wanted when he wanted: Ezekiel wasnât as stupid as everyone thought he was, at least not dumb enough to think that this life didnât come with an expiry date. Rome would run its course and heâd move onto the next place, then the next, but immortality? Forever? What was the point in having all this strength if he didnât take full advantage, it would all come crashing down when it all came crashing down. âBut did they have Gucci slides? Doubts.â
Rhiannon was a marshal, for vampires Ezekiel had always thought that was some kind of brass ring. Heâd wanted it, once, when he was a witch. âI used to imagine the day that The Crown would tap me to make me a marshal, then a watcher. That Iâd do enough to impress them and theyâd make me-â feel something, doesnât come out. The truth was Ezekiel wasnât sure why he was being so honest, maybe because something in the other was inspiring as much from him. She seemed more vulnerable than Ezekiel remembered Amala being at the party, like something within her had quietly worn away that night. It only occurred to him then that sheâd watched the home that she was so proud of get levelled by a few witches on a power trip - the Asphodel - they were everything that Ezekiel had been raised to hate. Even now that the Amaranthus was behind him their dogma about blood magic was firmly rooted into his core, he couldnât just shake it. âthe point is⌠itâs stupid, all of it. I donât care about that shit anymore. So donât worry, you wonât be seeing my resume anytime soon.âÂ
Gucci slides, she was talking about how she lowkey wanted to tear people to pieces and he was bringing up absurdities. Though he did have a fair point, sheâd admit that. She loved her little luxuries the current century had to offer her and thereâs this little pang in her chest despite the light laugh that escapes her. âThey didnât have Donatella Versace either, they all must have looked terrible.â Itâs not a quip sheâd make to somebody who wasnât close to her normally, but Ezekiel was closer to her than he knew. The laughter, her smile, it falls away as he speaks of his time in the Amaranthus, about the Crown. Amala owes it to him to listen about the life sheâd taken from him. âGood. Youâve got centuries ahead of you, do something youâve always wanted to do. Travel, fall in love with a person or two. The worldâs yours.â Itâs something she wished her sire, the little group of women all the way back in Delhi, would have told her. Maybe with the palace being reconstructed, sheâd take a moment to listen to her own advice. âAnd Iâm here to help, technically. The whole Pluto bloodline, Iâd like to think we try to take care of our own.â It wonât fix anything for him, it doesnât absolve her of what sheâs done, but she couldnât bring herself to be cruel enough to outright abandon him. âYou know where to find me.â And maybe one day he would need her and sheâd come running.
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Amala Singh
Stressed, depressed, but well dressed at the royal wedding.
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ezekielurquhartâ:
âOr what, youâre going to call the marshals on me? Last I checked you guys had bigger problems.â It was a low blow considering the attack had taken place in Amalaâs home, the place that the younger of the two vampires hadnât returned to since that night. It wasnât because of the massacre, it was the looks the others had given him - he didnât belong there. Ezekiel had felt it in the disapproving and judgemental looks that were oh so similar to the way the witches of the Amaranthus had once looked at him. Except maybe for Hazal. Amala was no different, she was a creature that looked at all the world like it was beneath her - in a way she reminded him of a defanged version of Rhiannon. Ezekiel supposed thatâs why people called the pluto senator a sellout when she was out of earshot.
Small talk doesnât exactly get him going but thereâs something about the other that keeps him rooted instead of just brushing past the matriarch of the bloodline, maybe for now heâd chalk it up to his mommy issues and leave it at that. âProbably for the best,â the vampire said with a sigh from dead lungs, âheâll probably be dead soon anyways. Never tastes the same once the heart stops pumping.â Ezekiel said simply, âOnly the ones that I want to.â Ezekiel said with something of a rueful smile, control wasnât something heâd mastered, but mostly because the vampire had no real desire to master it. He had a good nose for blood, Ezekiel had learned that much at least.
-
This is not the same fool sheâd dealt with the evening of Halloween and while the barb does sting, Amalaâs brows raise in surprise. And then her lips curl into a smile thatâs sickly sweet. Maybe sheâd chosen correctly after all, maybe this could be something. The Amaranthus had surely seen potential in him and she did too, more so now than before. It would be stupid to discard him and even if he was useless, she didnât entirely think she could just let him go on his merry way without some involvement. âIt used to be much easier.â Thereâs a cheery kind of coldness to her voice, her smile reaches all the way up to her eyes. Itâs genuine, itâs too happy of a thought to wax on about without feeling some kind of elation. âFor our kind to be in this world. It is a shame neither of us got to see it that way. We did not need meetings with witches or wolves to make decisions. Even when I was a fledgling, I feel like we were more likely to look away.â And now they meddled. Now witches invaded her home. Her home that sheâd defended with dull claws and teeth in comparison to how sharp theyâd once been. âDo us both a favor, donât become a marshal. Enjoy this for yourself.â Itâs what she wants for him, freedom to be able to do what he wants. Maybe deep down thatâs why sheâd done it, not to be petty towards the Amaranthus witches, but sheâd wanted to liberate something if she couldnât free herself. âIâm surprised youâve stuck to Rome.âÂ
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diannamaeveâ:
         âThat is exactly what Iâve been dying to hear from you,â Dianna teased with a grin of her own, one that hinted at a rare penchant for mischief. They had endured enough under the thumb of the Senate and yet in the same breath Dianna was considering nominating herself as one of the Pluto marshals, as if it was possible for the two of them together to clean up the mess that had been made of its rankings. Dianna always toed the line of what was morally acceptable, she was as lawfully neutral as one could be, but with the Pluto house destroyed and a heedless nemesis on the horizon, it paid to slack off a bit and enjoy what time theyâd have left of each other if things were to turn awry. She never liked to imagine the worst happening to them but theyâd come much too close to such possibility and if her heart could beat itâd likely be skipping along in her chest in a splintering crescendo. âIf you wanted to get really crazy we could always skip out of here to that fey party, but Iâm imaging you to be a bit of a chicken,â she mercilessly winked as if the Pluto Senator would balk at such idea.
Itâs not like she hadnât heard about it, the party the fey were hosting in their little forest. Before Titaniaâs masquerade, sheâd been curious about the queen, a woman who had sat on a throne for years and years. People told stories of her, it was hard not to admire such a woman, one with the wisdom and power to rule. And yet sheâd hurt them, or in actuality, theyâd been too blinded by the Otherworld to really pay attention to what was happening around them. The forest wasnât going to be like that and she knows that thinking their kind and the fey could be friends was a Venus thing, but with Dianna like this.... âWe should go.â Amala says and she leans towards the blonde as if sheâs telling her a secret, as if she wasnât supposed to want to go. âAt the masquerade, I saw a room full of snow, it was beautiful. If itâs anything like that, Iâd like to see it.â Sheâd stood there in the room where snow fell on stone while the realm was thrown into chaos. Something about it had been so serene. Being with Dianna was like being in that room, somehow calm and beautiful despite everything falling apart around her. âBut I do have a single request.â Theyâre still so close, probably too close to just be before the market, so out in the open, but nothing else matters in the moment.Â
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âYou should be more careful.â She doesnât really have a right to tell him that except as a senator, as a vampire hellbent on keeping their numbers up, she does. But Amala hadnât been there to teach him to be careful and it does eat away at her a little, her choice to just leave him in the capable hands of the vampires of Rome instead of teaching him herself. Her tone isnât as harsh as it could be though, itâs mindful at best. Things had been different when sheâd been a fledgling vampire, now they could get blood in bags, drinking from the vein didnât even have to be a thing for any of them anymore. Thereâs a sick part of her thatâs maybe still spiteful towards the nest of women whoâd sired her for not allowing her to run wild longer. Whatâs one less tourist in cargo shorts? Granted Zeke himself is wearing those terrible work out shorts himself, but thatâs besides the point. Or maybe he gets a pass because she can hear music from a woman she respects blaring from his headphones. âI already ate, but thank you.â Itâs dismissive, sheâs not here for politeness, sheâs there because sheâd seen him running on her morning walk and thereâs this inherent need to make sure heâs thriving. Looking at him there, even in those terrible shorts, he looks as lively as they can and itâs all too pleasing. The man sheâd seen at the Halloween party had been sloppy, perhaps too indulgent, and she thinks he is allowed that for a little while, he should get to enjoy his new gifts. âThough I take it youâre adjusting nicely? Not ruining anyone elseâs couches anymore?â Despite the pointedness of her tone, dark eyes give away her amusement at the memory. Maybe sheâd been too hard on him that night, had been too busy being the stressed host.Â
@amalasinghâ notes: for your personal reference heâs wearing adidas shorts
New year, new Ezekiel, he was the type of person to set resolutions and this was going to be his year. As a witch heâd been a joke, some weak ass chump that had been the chew toy of more vampires than he could name. Someone had found him on the verge of death in a forgotten shithole of an alley and theyâd given him a second chance - a new life. This time Ezekiel felt liberated, free, he was stronger than heâd ever been in life and the arrogance that had permeated the once-Amaranthus witch had found a place to roost at long last. Nestled in his chest the manâs dead heart blazed, under Rhiannonâs guidance heâd sharpened his strength and his senses, and through an age-old application he had a waitlist of thralls begging to get bit. Rome had to be the greatest city on Earth.
Hyped up from his morning session in the park, Ezekiel carried on with his jog as the body of a dead runner was disposed of in the bush, the poor manâs head practically torn off. He couldnât help but get carried away. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as his run came to a halt, heâd felt the sensation before the night of the massacre, as Thot Shit played loudly through his headphones, Ezekiel pulled them off and listened through the trees.
Theyâd only met once before, but Ezekiel couldnât shake the feeling that he and the senator were connected somehow. She reminded him of the bond heâd once shared with the Amaranthus, a tether that he had inherently come to resent. Maybe Amala just reminded him of The Crown. âI left breakfast back there if youâre hungry.â Ezekiel said with easy dark humor, the daylight ring from Marcella glinting in the morning light. âSenator.â
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Location: Il Cane Nero, before the floor area opens for the night Person: @corruptedneeraâ âThoughts on Valentineâs Day?â Sheâs got a clipboard, sheâs practically sweeping around the floor in a long dark blue dress, looking here and there trying to imagine decor. They still have the sparkly bits of the holiday season up around the stage, the bar, and thereâs appeal to it. Thereâs a lot of potential for the holiday to come considering the red velvet interior of the place. She's stopped at one of the plush couches before the stage and looking towards Neera where the other woman is stretching to warm up. Thereâs not a single person employed under her that she doesnât like, but the dancers do hold a bit of a softer spot in her old, dead heart. âI have an idea for an act for you.â
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diannamaeveâ:
         âFor me? Wonderful,â tDianna pauses, imbued with mirth and keen to illicit a certain trepidation in Amala over her decision. Dianna was forced into a path of self discovery in addition to being a newly transformed vampire when initially turned. She had spent the entirety of her mortal life within the confines of a nun commune and hadnât ever really lived, never dared to venture outside the comfort zone which had been allotted to her. There was a myth, or maybe it was a fact, Dianna wasnât entirely sure; that provoked the idea that vampires were meant to be soulless entities. Something went wrong in the exchange, maybe, but no matter the deciphered facts; it was quite clear that Diannaâs vigor hadnât waned even as years rallied on. Her soul was a sun, vivid and incandescent, a reminder of hope that had been squashed for plenty upon their route to vampirism. She had only allowed such change to embolden her life and supply it with everything she had been absent of before it all. It was funny, how death had granted all of her wishes and desires. Death now cradled her cheeks and never had the embodiment of a plague been so captivating, a drunken laugh escaping Dianna again. âFor you? A very dangerous game that has been started.â
âPublic appearances be dammed, I want to be drunk.â Thereâs just a little bit of a playful lilt to her tone but she means it. Sheâs ancient by her own standards, she knows what itâs going to take to get her there. On the public appearance front, could anyone blame her? Amala had been on her best behavior considering her home had been destroyed and every evening she went back to itâs ruins. It had taken everything in her not to march to the âHouse of Asphodelâ and simply just eliminate the witches thatâd wreaked havoc. Dianna had been a reason not to do just that, if she hadnât seen her at the end of that fateful evening, things might have taken a different turn. Justice would be served, it wasnât the kind she wanted, but something would happen inevitably. For now she could focus on the woman before her, focus on giving her a good holiday. âI donât usually drink anything harder than wine, but Iâm open to new experiences.â Her forehead presses to Diannaâs and her voice lowers, like itâs some kind of secret. Because this thing between them was that, something that she hadnât quiteâŚ.It wasnât supposed to happen and yet she wasnât particularly bothered that it had. Itâd been a pleasant surprise, one that she didnât quite want to share with other people.
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Everything downtown is bright, obnoxiously so, and every so often those little bulbs all over the place cause the jewels at her throat to shine and that does it for her. Thereâs drinks at least, which is hardly something she needs, but it beats drinking at the club in her office or bringing a cask of wine to her chambers back at the still decimated palace. âItâs almost obnoxious.â She says to her fellow vampire also looking to all the shopfronts. Amalaâs eyes stray from the vomit of decor to really look at the vampire whoâd spoken and she realizes sheâs seen him before, but months ago. â...You didnât come through the palace a couple months back, did you?âÂ
starter for: all; @senatusstartersâ location: holiday market, shopping
It had never been Casperâs favorite holiday or really favorite time of the year, but there was something about the blanket of snow and sound of wind chiming holiday bells that shook loose the holiday spirit. Halloween, since youth, was the one he and his family always went all out for. Mostly with the encouragement of his father, but the absence of himself in Rome and work taking over his mindâ it seemed more than fitting to put more of his efforts into this one. A large tote hung on one side of his shoulder as he made his way down the market path, the smell of milled wine and cinnamon filling him as he sauntered. The start of the solstice hung in the air as his emerald hues bounced from sparkling jewelry to holiday gift baskets, excited for what the artisanal crafts might bring and who he might bump into during the bustle. âTheyâve overdone themselves,â his lips muttered as he gazed on another storefront window display, triggering a snicker, âcanât even tell what they sell anymore.â
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diannamaeveâ:
     âItâs actually much too crafty for a pirate,â a grin encompasses the entirety of flaxen visage, âThat bastard Columbus only wishes he could have been so creative with all the spices he stole.â Perhaps sheâd peddled too much wine into her own system, but she was a vampire and it took a lot for her tolerance to delve into the span pure of inebriation. Sheâs giggling almost akin to a school girl and itâs been much too long in her life, a tender absence in which frivolous and mindless joy had not been found and Dianna leans into the taste in spite of the obsidian darkness which spatters itself amongst their lives akin to dandelion seeds in the wind. She knows a thief will come and snatch their happiness soon and she wants to be drunk off this fleeting feeling forever, no matter how brief the sensation. âHere, weâll have to go get you some,â she paused, a coy expression replacing the mirth that dazzled her complexion previously, âUnless youâd fancy a hot chocolate. âTis the season.â She squeezes Amalaâs hand in finality, adoration and vigor seeping from every pore and the mindless humanity they now garnered. How wonderful it was to entrench themselves in the festivities, to pretend they werenât facing an enemy who could destroy each and every street of Rome, leaving no crevice unturned.
There is nothing more that Amala wants than to curl up in some dark corner of her renovated bedroom and just sulk away the holidays. Normally the season is an excuse to get dressed up and mingle and normally she even enjoys that, she loves a jewel tone, she loves an event. But after Halloween she finds it harder and harder to be strong, to care about aesthetics and outfits. They are both old and immortal creatures, acting is something they have to do to keep up appearances amongst the public, itâs something their kind is good at. She doesnât entirely have to do it for Dianna though, it takes some effort, but itâs far easier to fake happy with her than one of her attendants. Fingers squeeze her own and sheâs drawn out of her thoughts and the smile that spreads across her lips is genuine, soft even. Gently her hands touch either side of the blondeâs face and she lets out a light laugh as she looks to how she can see all the lights reflected in her eyes. Christmas trees did not need stars, they could simply put a photograph of Diannaâs smile and itâd be just as bright, she was sure of it. Her thumbs trace high cheekbones and then sheâs tilting her head to brush their foreheads together, her nose crinkling. âI will drink anything you put in front of me, how does that sound?â Itâs playful and all of her despair aside, itâs genuine.Â
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