flashfanged

[flashfanged]

Darker eyes scan her face, the urge to reach out and touch a cheek, to remind themself that Viktoria really was as alive as they are. Not sure if the last part had been a joke, there really was no full tell with the Lomidze clan. What their words meant or what they felt. They choose to trust the first sentence and ignore the latter.

The hand on their bare shoulder feeling warm, heavy, despite the cold they know it truly is. The squeeze reminding them of the warnings of age and the strength it brought. Viktoria could tear her apart, the lady in Anemoia could tear them apart. Their pride makes them think despite it all they would fight. Though they feel there is no threat from Viktoria.

At the blonde’s words they very visibly do straighten, hiding from the anxiousness they feel. They belonged. They were Lomidze and with that came power. A dip of her head. A small smile crossing features. “I’d love to hear a few sometime. The things you’ve seen and the places you’ve been.”

"You wouldn't be. Or if Lana simply decides you are of no use to us." Viktoria says it with a bright smile, wide eyes - embracing her unsettling, older nature as always. She gains a particular thrill in being perceived as something otherworldly, at making people glance twice at her. Uncanny valley, she's heard it called. The reminder that there might have once been predators who mimic faces.

She reaches over and lays her hand on Madison's shoulder, squeezing - in an attempt to be comforting - with a strength that would surprise even the other. "Chin up, darling child. Head high."

A beat, and she tilts her head. "Stories you couldn't even imagine. And knowledge more vast than most people believe exists."

[flashfanged]

“I like to keep tasks organized, it helps my mind process a little easier. Other games I do wing it.” They say with an easy grin. They can kind of see it in the mirror, the way Autumn is processing the information of their job. Not a lot of people get it all the time. And sure they can leave out the part of their state of undress, but if they gained a new follower they would want them to be prepared. Honestly most of the reason was as simple of liking the level of control of what people got of them, better to expose yourself than someone else. The more basic reasoning though was being uncomfortable sitting for hours in clothing. Silly but true.

“If something isn’t a passion you shouldn’t force it.” she points out about her giving up the instrument. She barely registers when the car stops, Autumn’s voice pulling her out of the slight daze. “Oh, we are.” she lets out a chuckle before shaking her head. “I just got a little soft thinking of my girlfriend.” a practiced smile to show they aren’t a little off put by never needing sleep again.

“It’s been really nice getting to know you Autumn.” is said sincerely, sending the payment and opening the door. “You drive safe and I hope we run into one another again. Hopefully in a less work related situation. Night.” Exiting they make sure to close the door softly before heading off for the diner doors and disappearing through them.

Keeping a spreadsheet for a video game sounds anxiety inducing to her. "A spreadsheet? I just kind of wing it." The second comment makes her feel a little sad, mostly because she can't imagine exposing herself like that - she has enough misplaced hangups looking in the mirror without worrying about hundreds of strange eyes on her out in the aether. She thinks about inquiring if the girl has ever entertained just not streaming in her underwear - but she doesn't - she knows the internet is what it is and wants what it wants, and if she's comfortable with that, that's a sort of confidence Autumn can only envy. "I played Clarinet in Highschool but uh, stopped." She adds, somewhat uselessly. "You're a night owl - that's fine, and normal." She pulls into the diner's parkway and stops. "We're here!" She turns back to Madison. "...You okay? Seemed to kind of bum out there at the last minute."

[flashfanged]

They see the way she freezes, still taking bites as their eyes piece together the words clear in the blonde’s eyes. They’ve never needed words with Allie, they both just seemed to know. Just read one another as openly as a book. And isn’t Allie one of their favorite stories. A bright little witch. A sparkling light among a world of smudged darkness. A twinkling beacon of light amongst their jagged and fraught ocean that threatens to drowned and ravage.

Dark eyes skirt along a slender neck at the question as the blonde covertly asks her question. They give a nod. “Yes, those things do have flavor. Stronger than they ever have before. I promise it tastes divine.” they soothe, giving a smile before taking another bite, a playful glint in their eyes. They know they are toeing a line with the wording of the comment, with the possible implications that could be taken out of context. But they both know what Allie had been alluding to. This blonde didn’t belong to them anymore. As hard as it still was to process, but they are anything if not loyal. They have promised Mila, she is the only one they will be with.

Though in the midafternoon, nestled in darkness with a book they do wonder what would have transpired had Allie arrived sooner than she had. But there are many what ifs. Many possible paths they could have found themself traversing. If they had made it to Vanessa that night, if they had gone after her when the chaos had broken out at the Masquerade. If they hadn’t spotted Mila in the brink of being attacked. If Allie had been at the event, had found them. If they had never parted from the witch back in that cozy apartment in the city back east. If they hadn’t decided to seduce Mila after barely escaping the chaos, bloodstained and cocky in their pull. If they weren’t here at all.

They leave their own rambling thoughts to nod. “Of course you can, you know I’ll always take care of you in any way I can. And my plants deserve your special touch.”

        she freezes in place. gods, allie always forgets that part. she’s a terrible friend, and a terrible waitress, and she just wants to make them happy and she doesn’t know how anymore without- and wouldn’t it just be awful to lose a sense like that? that’s what they’re for. mouths are for eating and tasting and kissing …  “ well, but you can taste- ”  curiosity floods her before control does, though it catches up eventually because it’s madi, and they’re important to her. so she can keep secrets, just for them.  “ like, um, things that aren’t food? ”  she carefully pieces together her words, wide-eyed with just how cautious, before she lets her small, soft smile back out. she’d miss fruit the most, she thinks. allie really has always had a love for sweet things. her little treats, too. can you cook for someone, and care for them if you can’t taste anything?

        madi’s safety leaves her to ramble in her own mind, and at least it’s on the inside of her head, where they can see it from behind her eyes and not out loud, and obnoxious. the witch has that to be thankful for, and that madi’s even here at all! that’s the wonderful part. every time they’re near, close enough to touch, and even sometimes when they aren’t, allie gets that feeling in her chest. the one that feels like home, even though madi isn’t hers, anymore. it makes her feel greedy, like she’s never been broken up with before. she has, so why can’t she let them go? she’s not made enough new friends, that must be it.

        and then they go to save her, swooping her up into their arms and saying she can stay with them.  “ do you mean it? you’ll let me stay? ”  allie says, eyes sparkling and hope keeping her afloat.

[flashfanged]

They look up with a smile and actually turn off the stream and game to focus on the girl in the front seat. It wasn’t often that people took an interest in what they did. She laughs along with Autumn shaking their head a little. “I’m not going to lie, it was really fucking hard and I had a lot of mistakes along the way. I had to read like three libraries' worth of coding books and was completely lost. But I just kept fucking around with it and watching masterclasses until it finally stuck. I just lived under other people’s thumbs long enough. I wanted to cut the middle man out of things.” she explains, nodding at the mention of the Xbox and the game of choice.

“If we ever run into one another again I can show you my Stardew spreadsheet. I play a lot of Minecraft too. On stream, I’m usually in my underwear, so I doubt anyone cares really about what I’m actually playing.” She adds with a laugh, smiling as Autumn lists off her other hobbies.

“I wish I could read some, I like to read poetry when my mind gets too loud. I mean I read a lot in general. My girlfriend was pretty impressed the first time she got to peruse my apartment and shuffle through my stacks of books.” there is a soft smile that crosses their lips at the mention of Mila. “I paint sometimes and play piano, that’s a newer hobby. I don’t…sleep much. If that wasn’t apparent.”

"That's cool!" Autumn says. "I never could get my head around stuff like that. Websites and stuff. I was trying to skin a blog page one time with code I bought off of somebody and I had to have my friend come in and fix it." She snuffs out a laugh at herself. Madison continues, and Autumn can feel herself calming down a bit from the near miss; the woman's voice is soothing to listen to, and she's sure that kind of thing helps when it comes to buildin the kind of audience somebody needs to keep that kind of career viable. "I don't game much - I have an old Xbox... one I think, and it has a total of like three games on it, and the only one I play is uh, Stardew Valley." She says, nodding. "It's fun but I haven't had time to play it in a while - when its nicer weather, I like hiking... I uh, I write, too, like as a hobby. Poetry mostly - I don't have the head for fiction I don't think."

[flashfanged]

They have to remind themself sometimes, even with Svetlana, just how old their new family is. What that means, she wonders if her mannerisms will ever become so delicate in their expressions. Hand wishes that they hadn’t worn a dress as nervous fingers stretch and grip. Youth brings on stronger emotions they aren’t completely familiar with quite yet. They think back to breaking down in tears in front of Mila. They refuse to embarrass themself by doing it again, though this time in thankfulness, in a public setting. Not in front of any of the other Lomidze clan.

Sometimes though they feel a little crazy with just how on edge they always feel. Would it be this hard if they had made it to Vanessa that night? If she had been their sire, instead of someone they had never met before. Whisked to her by a brother who toes on the edges of sanity. But as they look at Viktoria they don’t sense anything but sincerity. No matter how unexpected their joining had been, they belonged to this family. They duck their head for a moment and then look back to the work.

“Of course. I wouldn’t be alive or in the house if I wasn’t meant to be. Svetlana could have turned me away, even though Ezra brought me to her. I appreciate what I’ve been given.” the last words are softer, but hold nothing about truth. They honestly needed to learn that perhaps not everyone planned on discarding them after a short period of time. “I’m sure you have a lot of interesting stories from your time.”

Viktoria's expression barely changes - it's not a skill she's honed on purpose, but rather a side effect of her age - as she takes in Madison. Whatever is happening here, whatever they make glean from what she'll say to them - it intrigues her. Does she not feel as though she belongs here? Does she not realize that the Lomidze's do not turn or take people in all... willy nilly?

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. "That is a question I would turn back towards you, little one. Do you feel as though you've found it?"

Is she the good, fun aunt? Or the terrifying one? Time will tell, she supposes. "My instinct would be to say yes. You are not brought into this clan without being a part of the family. What you do with that information, what you do with the idea of the family is up to you. But I suggest you realize you belong sooner rather than later."

[flashfanged]

“No need to apologize for a slip-up. We all make them,” she says non-judgmentally. Because it was true and they were safe. Nothing bad had happened. Just a jostle. She can hear the way Autumn’s pulse hiccups, a sign of nerves, she wasn’t being truthful. Madison won’t push, it isn’t their place. Even if sometimes, at least with this, they can be useful. Everyone saw the now, they didn’t see the past. What the redhead had struggled and dragged themself from. The way at twelve they were supporting a family and two adults’ drug addictions. But that was neither here nor there. No one needed to know about the sob story.

At the slight joke, they chuckle. “I built my own site, so technically I’m not tied to any one type of content. I game a lot. Sometimes, I just film myself doing mundane things. I know I’m attractive and some people will sacrifice everything to see what a hot person gets up to. I had sort of a cult following already so it wasn’t terribly hard to build a mini empire out of it. My favorite time to game though, between us, is when it’s just with friends I’ve made who don’t care about what I look like.” they smile at her through the rear view mirror then look back down to the screen. "What about you, what do you do for fun?"

"Y-yeah, sorry again." She says, eyes darting to the arms slinking back into the back seat from around her. Quick reflexes, sure - but the urge to do that shook her more than any superior sense of reaction time. "Thanks." She mouses as she puts the car in gear, slinging and angry, upturned hand to the guy behind her through the driver's side mirror as she heads back into traffic - only a few blocks now before they're where they're going, but now she's all keyed up. "Yeah I'm looking into a few things," she says, trying hop back into the conversation. It's a lie, she's not, because she doesn't really have a references and her degree is relatively useless in a job hunt. She doesn't even know if she'll last the year before she caves and takes whatever hand-out job her mom is pushing on her. "So you're like, what a gaming streamer or what? Hot tubs?" The second suggestion is a tongue-in-cheek joke, because she only vaguely knows what streamers do outside of gaming.

[flashfanged]

They feel like they’ve pleased her with their answer, that they are learning. Adapting. That they can be seen as an asset and not as a burden. Though Viktoria isn’t the Lomidze they wish to impress, they do hope in time the other siblings can consider them part of the family. Svetlana has told them that they are a part of it. That they will be cared for. That they belong somewhere. No longer a lonely ship in a sea of faces. Who knew their death would hopefully bring them closer to something they crave?

She clicks her tongue and they wonder if they haven’t overstepped, they know this most likely isn’t the best venue for a discussion like this, but this piece seems to have yet attracted a crowd. And there it is, that word they wish to grasp onto. Like a lost kitten who has never known affection. “Have I?” a pause as they formulate their words. “Have I found that?” they ask finally deciding the truth is the best option.

"Hmm, perfectly neutral answer. Very good." Like talking to a student who might be a little too good, too much of a teacher's pet. Viktoria doesn't care so much, though, and it's often how her tone defaults when talking to someone that's not her siblings. Age is a terrible thing.

The question isn't something she's expecting here of all places, but her expression barely changes - a little bit of surprise shows in a slight quirk of her eyebrows upward.

"Boring?" Such a heavy topic. She clicks her tongue against her teeth. "Sometimes, sure. You find what makes eternity fun for you - find your people, your family."

[flashfanged]

They watch as she studies them before going back to exploring the apartment. ’Look at me. Look at me.’  they yearn for those curious eyes to be back on them. To examine and devour. Their newborn status makes them hungrier than they’ve ever felt, in all things. And this picture of beautiful, soft grace makes them yearn. They stand still as they watch her glance around, smiling at her comment about their books.

They might have not had the best educational experience, delayed and hardly guided, but books? The moment they had finally been taught to read, their hunger had been veracious. Anything they could get their hands on, any means of escape from a hellish life. Books gave them freedom and clarity where everyone else had failed them.

They smile softly, less wolfish. “They’re some of my best friends,” they tell her with nothing but honesty. It took a lot to be let close, and even more to be let in. They surround themself with stories and tales. With games and shiny armor, sit in their silence and withdrawn tower. Their social graces a well-rehearsed act, something they had learned to survive. A mask in the grand play that was life.

At her words, they chuckle softly, a challenge? They will gladly rise to it, as she passes them they let their hand just ghost the dip of her back. They don’t touch, but know she can feel their hand’s presence. “Mmm…I do enjoy a good chase,” they murmur, dark eyes drinking her in as they open the door to the bathroom and grab a towel to set on the counter. “I’ll get you those clothes unless you were hoping to match.” they flirt

It's bold, the answer, the stand. Mila struggles not to turn back to them, to look and drink them in. They're gorgeous, and incredibly hot. What she had seen had been enough to be burned in her mind, engraved behind her eyes. Mila wasn't immune to beauty by any means, but still, she hadn't felt this attracted to anyone in a while, and she cleared her throat awkwardly before looking back at them.

"I ---No, I don't think there is." Her voice is soft as she answers, and for a minute too long, she lets her eyes wander across the expanse of skin that had been exposed before looking away once more. There's a smile stretching her lips at their words, like a challenge almost. And she hums amused as she moves around the apartment once more, her eyes searching instantly for more books and they have plenty. "You have quite the nice collection here."

She turns once more, her eyes landing on their face. They truly are handsome. A raised eyebrow, surprised by the suggestion and the way she doesn't feel that opposed to it. But she hums. "Maybe after I shower, I shall consider it..." She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly, a small smile playing on her lips. "We'll see if you can be convincing."

[flashfanged]

They smile ruefully at her words, knowing she doesn’t actually think they are being mean to her. They could never be, even in death, Allie makes their chest swell. She always would. A permanent sticker of sunshine in their life. Something to love and cherish and gush about. They worry sometimes that Mila might not understand the impact Allie has on them, the importance the little witch holds in their unbeating heart. But they are practicing in their navigation. Finding a balance in not upsetting their girlfriend, while keeping the little blonde in a position where she knows she is still one of the most important people to them.

They chuckle as two desserts are slid in front of them, sucking the moisture of the spoon that the coffee left and starting in on the pie first. They pause in their path to bringing the bite to their lips and give her a sheepish smile. “I don’t really know if she did.” they tell her honestly, things are still so new. They are still learning one another. They take the bite and sigh, wishful thinking that they’d be able to taste it this time dashed.

“I – we can’t really taste anything. It’s kind of really sad. But I keep trying. Sometimes I think I can and then I realize it’s just a memory. Even diner coffee is just really hot.” they grump a little before going back to eating, looking at her as she explains why she is here at this hour. They hum, swallowing and then shake their head a bit.

“You could always move into my apartment, it has real cottage vibes that I’m sure you can build on. And the windows let in so much light. I really miss being able to enjoy it. But it’s kind of just where I go at night now sometimes, so it’s empty.”

       “ you’re being mean, teasing me. ”  it would be easier flirting with madi if she knew, she just doesn’t know. it’s not fair, the way she’s all tossed up on the inside, she just doesn’t think she can help it. she’ll always love them, in all the ways that there are to love them. every one, even though it always gets her all burnt up. her cheeks are flushed, looking up through her lashes as she skirts away, voice soft and sweet in the way that madi will know she’s not being serious.

       “ oh! um, you’re right, i guess i don’t usually … ”  she gets lost between the lines, only finding her words after she fetches madi’s little treat from the pastry case. and, oh, she has been baking, leaving it unfortunately full for this time of night- or morning! she’s had so much tea, she’s kind of going nuts. and instead of jumping around or running, she’s baking lots, so it’s good! she’s doing good. allie would rather have the zoomies than have a nightmare. she wonders how many nights she could go without sleeping before she stops being fun, and sunshiney.  “ oh, gosh, madi, i have, like, so much. you’re getting two. ”  allie takes two little plates out of the case, sliding them to madi before she goes back down to peek.  “ does mila like sweets, or is that, like … ”  allie trails off, some floating recollection of vampires and taste rattling around her mind. she’s looking at madi like a deer in headlights.  “ i’m sorry, i don’t actually know … that stuff. ”  she’s probably not supposed to say the v word.  “ you’ll have to teach me! ”  and she perks up, fun and light.

       “ but, um, anyway, ”  allie returns to the counter, propping her face up on her hands, tilting to look at them.  “ i’m just covering a shift for someone, ‘cause i want to! ”  it was an easy choice to make, helping someone else. the selfish background sticks into her like a thorned sin.  “ i also … i’m also kinda’ trying to work more… ”  her hand flutters around  “ in general, ‘cause i want to stay at the cottage, longer. ”

[flashfanged]

SELF PARA Location: Nouveau Gallery Opening Act II

The reveal is grotesque and they feel queasy ’Not again’ they think as people start to realize exactly what has been displayed. Chaos slowly breaks out as guests devolve into panic and outrage. They look for heads of blonde, one nearly silver and the other honeyed. What they don’t expect is a blonde they’ve never seen before to start stalking in their direction, or maybe she’s just trying to leave like a sensible person. They move to pass her. They need to find Mila, find Allie. Get them both the fuck out of here before all hell fully breaks out. Before the fights begin.

What they don’t expect is the unfamiliar blonde to wrench at their shoulder. They growl and try to pry away, but her grip is like iron. There is a crack of pain as they are shoved into a wall just out of view “Where is she?” the blonde nearly growls, grip tightening and making Madison grit their teeth. “Who?” they ask earning another shove, grinding them into the wall harder, they refuse to make a noise. Dark brown glaring fire into blue as they shove her away, the blonde barely moves, just grabs their offending arm and shoves it against the wall too.

“Allie, where is she? She said she was going to find you.” Daniella grits out, nails digging into pale skin a nearly panicked look in her eyes as she grips the redhead. With all their might Madison kicks out, dislodging her. “Fuck off, I don’t know who you are but where Allie needs to be is away from you.” they snap back shoving her off again when she approaches again only to be slammed back into the wall. “Fuck…” they groan out as their head bounces off the brick leaving a dent in its wake.

They try to scramble against her, defending them in any way they can trying to kick at her again. “I don’t know where she is!” they exclaim again but it’s like trying to reason with a rabid animal and they feel themself be pulled from the wall only to be slammed back into it with a yelped-out groan. ”One more shot. Where is she?” Daniella grits out, grunting as they scratch at her face in their attempt to get away again. Long legs kicking at their assailant as genuine fear starts to overcome them, hands scrambling at the arm of the hand that holds their neck even with the lack of the need to breathe they feel lightheaded and disoriented.

“I – I don’t know!” they gasp out, then there is a burst of pain and everything goes black.  Danielle lets the now unconscious body drop to the floor, breathing labored though it’s unneeded. Crouching, eyes unfocused as her hand breaks the skin of chest, bones crunching and snapping around her hand as she reaches for the only thing that will end this worthless baby.

But then it stops, nearly wrapped around a dead heart by a familiar voice, by a call that snaps her out of her rage-fueled actions. ’ Stop! Stop! This isn’t what Emily would want you to be!. ‘  Mila’s panicked voice, that name like a bucket of ice water as she looks down wide-eyed at what she’s about to do. Her hand retracts and she’s off of the redhead in seconds, taking a few steps away from the prone body in near horror before turning and all but disappearing.

[flashfanged]

So focused on the game they don’t see her worry at first, but are glad she seems to calm quickly when they do. They can understand the worry, not everyone liked being in front of camera. The only reason she does is for the attention it brings her. The loneliness it assuages. The sense of belonging to something that it brings. Like her new home. With someone who cares. Someone who so far has treated her well. Just simple favors is all she asks, for the family. Madison’s family.

The thought of that brings warmth to their dead heart, reminds them of the fluttery feeling it would no doubt bring. When the car completely stops and the car behind them honks she can still feel and hear Autumn’s heart beating rapidly, hear her pulse racing. She looks back into those brilliant eyes and hopes her own aren’t changing with the hunger it all brings.

Slowly they unwrap their arms from the girl and settle back into the seat, all but pinning themself gracefully to it. No reason to make this poor girl a feast. “I’m alright, quick reflexes is all.” she answers as an excuse for how she moved so quickly, clearing her throat before picking up her discarded phone. “We better get going, before the bozo behind us gets too mad.”

"Oh, God." she reacts to the idea of being on some streamer's broadcast, but the woman's quick to assuage her worries.

"Yeah," she answers, half-heartedly. Investing in stocks with what money, she thinks. Everything she makes goes to bills or rent or the car or the payment on the car or loans or, now, keeping her insurance going for a little bit longer before she gets booted off of that, too. Recovering from the panicking what-ifs of whether or not she's about to show up in some group chat via a former co-workers friend doesn't come quick enough, and once the car comes screeching to a halt, she lets out a sharp breath as the girl grabs her from behind the seat and holds her in place.

There's a stillness for a second and she takes a second before the honk of a horn behind her kicks her brain back into gear. "Goddamn, fuck, sorry." She blinks, and looks down at the arms around her, looking back to Madison, face-to-face. "Uhm. I'm fine. A-are you?"

[flashfanged]

They can see the slight surprise and the humor in that pretty gaze, in that enticing face. The woman is attractive, captivating, but they wonder to what extent. Forgetting not an empty threat, a wandering and curious mind, always traveling and wandering. A pretty face could be had anywhere, at any time. And they have a blonde that is as much a mystery and just as gorgeous. A scholar who tastes divine, in all senses of the word.

The slight slick wetness of their blood paints teasingly against pale skin, they can feel it. It speaks to something in them. Something dark that begs for pain, for punishment, something to overcome in the last creeping moments. Something to claim. A reason to be vicious. They are new in her world, but they are no stranger to the thrill of a darker desire. Of pressing boundaries and competing. They know what it means to bleed here during the day, that was saved for the nights. And suddenly all pressure and presence is taken away and a perfectly manicured eyebrow raises as they look up at her and the smugness that radiates off the woman.

Warm brown taking her in, and how that gaze they give her betrays everything they are. Shining so sweet and innocent like a small pup, when a whirlwind of a life and understanding lie behind them. Still, they are curious, eyes flicking to where her hand disappears into her pocket. Dice? And then they are set on their drawing with an expectant look something sly. And just like that their expression shifts, something of disappointment as they reach out, delicate fingers picking up the glassy things, rolling them against fingers closed over palm.

“A shame,” they say simply, bored as they stand from the chair. Their other hand closing the leatherbound book and picking it up as they stand tall and move into her space. Gracefully and boldly they slip the dice back into the woman’s pocket letting out a soft huff. “I’m neither a child nor a toy, I’m afraid this game is a bit… juvenile for me,” they speak with disinterest, taking a step to the side and walking out into the streets. Maybe some mysteries just weren’t worth solving.

You should. Nsilo almost croons, in between the revelry of virtuous touches. No further than the collar, and as light as a feather would tickle. Draw a shoulder and head together in playful protest. Between the skin sinking wantingly under the movements of the fiery thing humming beneath those same touches.

Flesh threatens to break when they practically fight to bleed. Nsilo finds it endearing — gutsy and impulsive as all the youths are, still succumbing to the hunger they're still exploring with every bit of reckless determination.

Castillon's head tilts, capturing them at another angle as they turn. Confidence rising like a pressure gauge that Nsilo's just fuelled. Oh? They've got fire, to go with their newborn wings. She'd usually bury nails in deep, drag them through the room and remind them of where their brattish attitude gets them. But not this one. They're smeared with another's name, and it's offputting enough to keep just enough distance between hunger, desire and the want to leave this little bird, wingless and trembling at the feet of the first Lomidze that Nsilo can find.

Their lips are soft when they move; teasing and threatening and when they raise to be beside Nsilo's ear. It's a chuckle that they incite first. It's unanticipated to see the bite they possess. Can you keep it up, firebird? Or is the bird, simply a young dove?

Blood streams when a nail drives into the porcelain. Castillon would have to push past the glaring fact that it is Lomidze blood that created this one if she were to entertain — and simultaneously devour until they were but forgetting themselves. It's unlike Castillon to be forgotten despite their empty threat. A thumb traces the line of red, painting it across the collar, and the throat, imagining the mess they could create. She thinks of the walls, and the floor — of the noises this one might find themselves making.

Then, Nsilo suddenly removes all grasp on them, fingers, presence and desirable will included. Self-restraint in some ways, punishment for both, in others. Castillon reaches into a pocket, a wry smirk fixes itself on her lips when she lays a pair of emerald dice on the picture they'd previously been drawing. Glassy die much like the colour of the gaze they had drawn with such a vivid memory.

They can roll and play the game. Or they know where the door is. Dark mossy hues eye them with intrigue; a dare of their own. "Do you believe yourself that lucky?"

[flashfanged]

This, the brush against the column of their throat, the way she entices, the way she plays with them. The way she has the upper hand in a game of seduction. They may not know the depths of her plans, or where this game's roots lie, but Madison is no stranger to seduction. To hunger. To lust. They revel in the tease, in her chase to claim. But in this world, they are no meek lost thing.

There is a hum that reverberates in their throat, pressing into her touch, letting her nail dig into the skin like a threat. They’ll let her play them, let her have her game. Little do they know that this is more, but for now in their naivety, they’ll settle. A complaint? Hardly, the thought of being wanted fuels them. The attention, the want, the claim. It makes them grasp in delight. And though this woman holds the cards in something deeper, darker. She has bet wrong if she thinks this firebird as she calls them is doused in anything but flame.

“Why would I complain, a pretty mystery, wanting a taste? I should be utterly flattered,” they respond, pressing harder, daring her. They might not know her, but they can tell she is older, could rip them to shreds so easily. But maybe that is what they want. A challenge, a competitor, someone to revel in pinning down. Someone to make them bleed as they tear and shred in kind. Something dark and primal and cruel. She might have teeth, but they do too.

“If you wish for a taste, by all means. But if it’s only to tease, well mysteries can be forgotten,” they say with a certain assurance. Head pulls away and it’s their turn to ghost their lips against smooth skin. “Or maybe the mystery of the flavor calls to you too,” a pause, a smirk, nose brushing as they lean to her ear. Their hand taking her own poised at their shoulder, making the slice against their neck with a hiss. “tell me, are you all talk? Or will you take what you want? Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll give you that pleasure.” there is steadiness, a tease, a sign that they aren’t something to pity and tease. No in seduction Madison holds the cards on who gets what they want and when they will give it. Mysteries be damned.

The statement provokes Nsilo to believe that the redhead's entrance into the realm of the undead has a story that Lomidze had omitted some details. But look who has a mouth that likes to run away with them? Who needs to hear a tale from a shrew, when she has a firebird in her snare?

A pretty, beautiful thing is a dangling carrot that Castillon willingly pursues. If only for the long game of seeing how deeply she can devour them. They're not a quick meal. Not with the blood that made them; it can't be.

Nsilo doesn't lift her hand as it guides itself on an invisible path across their shoulder, thumb catching on the edge of their top. It ceases the movement, a fingernail tempts to tease the fabric and slice it like silk. But she doesn't dare thrust them over the line. It's still the daylight hours; the ones of civility do not cross with the warpath of blood and banditry that comes with the evening territory. Better then, to leave a person desiring more, than to hand it over to them in impatience.

It's complimentary when she muses: "A quick scholar," In death, and all its burdens. The cat can be killed more than once, but the cardshark will not acknowledge the myth that they have nine lives. Not under her roof, or in her grasp. The hand that's comfortable on their collar strokes upwards again, settling on the crook of their throat, tracing the artery. An instrument to be played, not for veneration or a performance. Simply because Castillon can. She too can adapt. "Is that a complaint —?" But it's so light, tickling their ear, that she has to withhold her amused, breathy laugh.

Their mystery prefers this game.

"And how far would you go—" on this treasure hunt "—to find your answer?" She wonders, just exactly how well-thought, or well-trained the redhead is. Whether the cat has claws or if the cat is a runaway kitten, left to fend on their own for the first time without a mother's guidance. Nobody to drag them home, if they find themselves trapped, unable to navigate their way to an avenue they recognise. How long will they forage — in their admitted curiosity; their gallivant with death; the recklessness that comes with youth, before perhaps the kitten's protector joins the hunt. How much is it worth to play with another's toy? And whether a kitten, or a firebird, all roads eventually lead to learning their role in the hunt.

[flashfanged]

They roll their eyes, and then their shoulders as they shrug off the ruined material, dropping the soiled garment into the trash. Stubborn, of course, but they can be too. Turning back to her, all pale skin and toned, left only in a red laced bra they regard her, they aren’t shy, no. People looked at them in far less every day. Though her eyes on them feels the slightest bit better. They want her to look at them, and examine them the way she had the book in her hands.

“Is there a reason I should be?” they ask boldly, they know what they look like. Know the desire it sparks in others. Crave the attention of it all when they are like this when they want something. Seduction is a game they are good at, even when they aren’t meaning to play. “You’ll be lucky if it isn’t taken by the time you’re done. You can read books in bed. That’s just how it is going to be.” Madison says, words coated in a way that leaves no room for argument though something tells them she still will. The thought of it excites them. “There are more on the nightstand,” they add before motioning toward the room.

“I’ll show you to the bathroom.” walking towards the doorway, they glance back at her, watching for a moment. “You know…we could just share the bed. I’m not very tired if you don’t mind the company. I promise to behave. Unless you don’t want me to.” it’s flirty and just as bold as undressing in front of a woman you just met. It’s everything they are. Adrenaline and blood pumping through their veins, back in their own territory. They hope it doesn’t scare her away.

She wonders how deep this whole thing goes. She isn't as new to not know the vampires and hunters have been at each other's throats since the beginning of times, basically. But the events of that night felt more like a targeted, personal attack. Like someone had done the blonde dude some great offense. She shudders still, remembering the way the hunter had been shredded to pieces before it all began. Even when the faint memory of the irony-metallic scent still made her throat burn. She clears it softly, as she lets the book down, shaking her head.

"And I am grateful for your kindness, but the answer's still no." She says softly, missing the way her accent caresses the words gently, coming out lightly at her distress. "I can rest on your couch, if anything... I'd probably end up going through one of your many books, if that's not an issue with you, of course." Sleep is the farthest thing in her mind, as her eyes focus on their hands, the buttons on their sleeves coming undone, and follows them as they start to unbutton their shirt. She feels as if she were blushing, with blood being pumped up to her face by a heart that wasn't beating.

She looks away, and down to the book, clearing her throat away. "You're not... very shy, aren't you? ---." She can't help the way her mind fills with images of them, can't help it as she turns to steal another look before forcing herself to move, to turn, look at anything else. "Nor modest." She says softly, confident that they'll hear anyway before shaking her head. "Anything would be okay, thank you."

[flashfanged]

There is a kinship in Allie they know is hard to explain. Jagged little edges coating your insides, fluttering in your brain. Cruel words learned from being raised in an even crueler world. People’s judgments and expectations turn to razor blades that they make you swallow one after another until all you can do is bleed and ache. And maybe there are times you can forget them and move on, but they never truly left.

Like a terminal illness, they fester and mutate and swallow you whole on your darkest days, or even the brightest. She sees it in those sparkling eyes and wishes she could carefully pluck each rusted piece of metal from the witch’s body. That there was some way they could heal her for the better. They know they can’t, not really, but they’ll at least try to mend the wounds with pretty words and gentle smiles. With affection.

Allie deserves the world, and though they know that neither belongs to the other, they’ll still try. As she sets their sugar packets down, just the right amount because of course she remembers they throw her a playfully charming smirk.

“Hmm…you sure look like a princess to me, so I don’t know who you think you are fooling.” they tease, pouring the packets in all at once and lazily stirring them about with the spoon she’s left. “Surprise me, darling,” they tell her while taking a drink, the burning liquid both too much and just right in making them feel a little bit normal. There is that slightly bitter, burnt flavor they miss. A shadow of a reminder of their past life. “What has you in the diner so late? I don’t normally see you here when I stop by.”

       madi’s touch is grounding, brings her right back down to earth with her feet, flat on the ground. of course they bring her comfort, but she can’t find her words.  “ oh. ”  is all that leaves her mouth, the shame of how quickly she’d fallen down her rotten little rabbit hole of worry and sorrow burning her up, inside out. allie hopes the soft and pretty outside makes up for it, as the thank you she wishes to say slips away from her as madi leaves allie’s bad thoughts behind.  “ yeah, always, of course. i made some- i’ve just been makin’ stuff, i guess it’s not a sweet hour of night. ”  her voice glides upwards, speeding up into her typical, chirpy ramblings, easing out of the quiet, insecure mumblings.

       allie untangles the two of them, lets madi lead them back to her actual job, feeling awful silly. “ i’m not a princess …  ”  she says, shy with that pink glow in her cheeks and a petal smile to match. it speaks for her, she really doesn’t mind being called princess. the witch girl loves it, she only wished she could be more of one, fit the title more as the butterflies turn sharp in her ribcage, with little biting mouths and unkind words instead of soft things. 

       it starts with their coffee, allie leaves the three sugar packets there so she can go peek at the sweets cabinet.  “ what’re you feelin’? ”

[flashfanged]

“It depends on the day and the person,” ’Depends if they deserve it.’ Goes unsaid, the memory of bloody hands and busted knuckles, breathing ragged from a first kill so long ago. They’d deserved it. He had deserved it. It’s something the redhead keeps close to them, something they dare not talk about.

The fear of seeming weak, and fragile. A being that’s only slaughter is ever out of desperation. And the sheer delight it could bring. It’s not how she wants this new family to see her. And sure maybe instead she plays the part of the sweet little pet, all shiny and new. Anything to deny the dark and broken beast that lies inside.

They clear their throat, lips pulling to the side as they think before taking a drink of the wine. They’d prefer a whiskey, and for the edible they had taken to settle in. Crowds, even this small made them uncomfortable. The thought of being touched or looked at by anyone uninhibited could make their skin crawl. The mention of a prowl catches their attention and they glance at Viktoria. Interest peaked, especially when reminded of just how old the family they have joined is. “Does it get boring, living for so long?”

Pain. Always fascinating to observe and inflict - though Viktoria likes to keep her games close to her chest. The family knows she has her knowledge, and the family knows she has her fun - but she's kept the beliefs private. Lana may know, but Lana knows.. everything. After all, who else would she be comfortable telling other than 'big sister'?

She recognizes Madison, though, and allows a slow curl of a smile. "Would it be more interesting if it were theirs or someone else's?" Her own answer is the latter, but there's no proper way to tell without asking. Such is art.

"I'm here to prowl. Art I can give or take. There's nothing to learn here that I don't already know."

[flashfanged]

“Curiosity can kill, but I’ve already seemed to learn that fact.” they quip in response, they aren’t quite sure if this had been a mystery to follow. They had hoped to ask their sire about the woman from Anemoia, but without a name or proper face, they couldn’t quite do so. Especially when they hadn’t been completely sure if it was the same pair of eyes they had thought they had recognized.

They don’t know quite everything from the council, still under the impression that their turning had been completely accidental. Had been mercy by a kind woman that has taken them in and only asked of them simple favors for their family. A woman they will give all that they can to. They are completely lost in the political concept of their new life. Of what each clan represents or how to proceed with each. Of who is enemy and foe. That their unquenchable hunger to know, to solve the mystery behind the mask has only grown tenfold because they are young, and not yet in control of their urges. Their emotions. The magnitude of an obsession.

Dark eyes flutter shut for a fraction of a moment at the weight of her hand on their shoulder and the whisper of touch as she traces their collar. Another thing that still surprises, the way a simple touch can alight their nerves in a way they’ve never experienced. ’Everything is heightened’ Oh how they hadn’t understood how true that was. It’s like being so high you feel you’ve transcended your body, without the drag of heaviness in the limbs. It’s something that could easily become an addiction.

They are transfixed, listening to her words as she plays them so easily with those teasingly light touches. She rolls her eyes good-natured at the teasing answer she is given in place of a name. “Then I’d think you rather me remain completely enraptured in you.” they breathe in response. A tease, both with tongue and touch, and she already has them spun around her finger. Caught in her web, enticed and interested in the continuation of the hunt.

However, they do not realize this is a fox hunt, and the teases are merely the hound as the hunter readies her shot from the rifle. As she whispers in their ear, lips close enough to ghost, to further entice. There is a bang, and the fox is struck. “Half the fun of a mystery is searching for an answer.”

“Is that so?” She must know then, the power that comes with being swept away by those mysteries. To be utterly in awe of an obsession that it sets teeth on each, to know that some things remain out of grasp. To chase and chase — Who is she to think that habits are all innocent in their delivery, when Nsilo knows where she comes from? What blood she represents.

And no matter how seductive that turning head is — the boring of a milky neck on display as they open themelf to set eyes on Castillon standing behind. Her smile comes with a pinch of teeth on a lip, a single sweeping gesture that has a hand falling from the chair to the redhead's shoulder. Boundaries, crossed. Fingers are delicate in their ghosting as they trace their collar. It is always shocking to see that the same hands can be deadly when provoked. Nsilo isn’t sure which end of that spectrum this one plans to take her.

“You just told me you are captivated by mysteries,” But they can ask, and maybe, they already know. The council approved their existence, afterall. “Why would we spoil that?” But Castillon is all teasing, hiding the teeth that could easily tear the neck from the shoulders. Her fingers trace their collar. She imagines what it would be like, to drop that bloodied redhead at the Lomidze doorstep.

How important is blood, to the ancients? How trivial is a newly given life, to those careless in their monstrosities? Castillon doesn’t want a war. But she can fantasise about the fact, in this moment; with rivers of red hair every depiction of the horseman of war — where Castillon might see herself as death, they’re still short their army.

Castillon leans down to their ear, so close she could almost nip the lobe, asks quietly in a voice so sultry, it’s dripping with intrigue: “What exactly are you looking for, firebird?”