flashfanged

[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?”

[flashfanged]

They’ve wandered off, Mila having excused herself to get them both drinks. Their eyes are picking apart the piece in front of them, the emotion and details. Own artistic mind running wildly, though they’d never show their own works. To personal. To open and raw. A dirty and dark secret most of the time. A free walk into their mind that they aren’t brave enough to be let known.

A familiar voice sounds next to them and they glance over to see Viktoria. They hum and take the glass offered. Wine isn’t their drink of choice but they’ll settle out of politeness. Finally, their lips part to answer her question, dark eyes going back to being enraptured by the story the strokes tell.

“The pain. It’s fascinating. I’m trying to decide if it’s based on their own, or perhaps the excitement of another’s. The strokes are a bit sporadic in places and deeper, steadier in others.” they murmured, bringing wine to lips and taking a sip. “I didn’t expect anyone else from the family to be here tonight.” they glance over at her again, “Are you one for art?”

Maybe it wasn't meant to be the Lomidze scene, but in Viktoria's mind every place is their place. Meaning every place is her place. She meanders through the gallery, admiring the darker bits and pieces, excited to know more about who has done what. If anything, she's ready to pick apart psyches whether they like it or not. And perhaps, maybe, run into a sibling or two.

Wine glass in hand, she turns to the person admiring the art in front of them and holds it out to them with a soft, almost alluring smile. "So what is it about this one that seems to enrapture you?"

[flashfanged]

Cocky, the voice next to them is coated in assurance and it brings a tight-lipped smile. Men always seemed to think they should talk to her, a side effect of looking the way they did. ’Too pretty to ignore,’ they’ve heard countless times. And sure they could tell him that they could afford her own alcohol, but she can smell the booze and underlying dog radiating off of him. No need to cause a hassle in the bar around so many others. So they put on a practiced smile before tapping the bar top as she spoke to the bartender.

“Since he is being so gracious. Scotch, top shelf, neat,” she orders, elegant as ever as she settles back into the seat and glances back at him. “It’s rude to assume a lady only comes for fruity mixes,” she teases lightly, always alluring when dark eyes fix on you. “But thank you. A reason to celebrate?” they ask, taking the glass that is set in front of them and taking a sip, watching him as they wonder what his angle is.

closed starter for @flashfanged

"Just so you know..." Liam said, leaning towards the girl that had sat down next to him at the bar. "They've ran out of margarita mix. And as for the whiskey..." He takes his glass and tilts it in circles a couple of times. "Well, I plan on drinking them dry of that." He smiled and then finished his glass before pushing it towards the bartender. "Another. And then put her first drink, whatever it is, on my tab." He could afford to pay for someone's first drink. Her others... well, she'll have to pay for that herself.

[flashfanged]

They can see the dissipation of the light in her, as nerves creep in and their arms wrap around her again, bringing her back in. Hand firm between lithe shoulders. ��Of course, you told me, princess. I just know you usually work in the daytime and spend your nights having fun.” they soothe, rubbing gently at her back before pulling back a bit to tilt her chin up. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. Anything good in the sweets cabinet for me?” they ask with a charming grin.

Sure they might have relaxed on their more intimate entanglement, but Madison doesn’t think she will ever be able to stop being affectionate with Allie. The two of them are so similar with two very different ways of coping. Where Madison alienated themself and masked with a cocky charm. Allie was all sunshine and butterflies. Open to making friends with just about anyone. It made the redhead worry about her, made a need to protect the little blonde settle deep in their chest.

They finally let go of her completely realizing they must look odd wrapped up all in one another in the middle of a diner. And the smell of the little witch is arising a much different hunger in them. One of the few people in their life to know about their change. They take her hand, even though she’s at work as if she is their personal waitress. Leading her to the counter they settle on a stool and smile. “Work your magic, princess.” they tease lightly.

       while she is, of course, eager to befriend every soul that crosses through the doors of the diner, madi brought with them a familiarity that she missed, every moment they were apart. the warmth that enveloped her ribs like a hug found her the moment they had entered, she hadn’t even needed to see the flames of their hair to know that she was safe. her body exhaled. everything was so, so exciting. and a secret? she was so nervous. it never stopped. 

       well, it does. creeps in and out like its woven into everything she does. she’s not being fair, because nervous means bad and nothing’s bad about here. port leiry is lovely and she’s so lucky to find it just in time, before she wandered back home, where it’s lonely. so far, lonely seems to be impossible, here. mostly because of madi.

       the daydreams seize as a flush rises to her face, princess. “ i work here, duhsies! ”  she chirps, cheerful. but allie then falters in their grasp, a half-frozen deer, the oh-my-god-i’m-a-terrible-friend rises up like bile- panic.  “ wait did i, like, not tell you? i’m so sorry, i know- i know you worry and i’m supposed to tell you that stuff and i really, really didn’t mean to- ”  she’s gotten fidgety, her head tipping in shame until all she can do is watch her fingers, all the things she had been batting away with busy keeping seizing her within the moment.

[flashfanged]

They hum at the pleasantry, not picking up on anything different in her tone. “I work a lot too, technically I’m working now.” they wiggle their phone a little. It’s set on mute and the only thing being shared is the phone screen, streaming the game to the website, watching the number of people watching rise. “Don’t worry, nothing is being recorded, I would have asked first if it were. I’m very big on consent, even in that aspect.” their eyes flit back to the screen.

Svetlana had told them that they never needed to work again as a part of the family. That the eldest sibling would take care of them in any way that she could. But that wasn’t an option. Madison strives to be useful, and that use was often times in making money. They didn’t know how to just be still and expect. “You should try stocks, I could give you tips on where best to make investments in it. It’s really easy once you calculate the algorithm and factor in the unpredictability of influx,” they murmur like it wasn’t anything complicated. And with only a GED under their belt, they figure if they could do it anyone could.

“I remember seeing you there, I really liked their cheese fries, but I – died – decided to cut back.” they finish. Suddenly they feel the car start to lurch, they drop their phone like it’s garbage pressing against the back of the driver’s seat and wrapping their arms around Autumn before the jolt is even completely through. “No, no. It’s fine. Are you okay?” they ask with a slight level of panic in their voice long arms still wrapped around her body holding her still..

"Oh, thanks.' she says, smiling.

"In between jobs, mostly - needed rent." It's a matter of fact tone where she instantly worries about if she sounded too bitchy or not. She's not really doing this because she loves the grindset. She hates how much she misses the routine of that stupid bowling alley. How much she misses having an excuse to not go places, or a reason to not be at her mother's stupid beck and call at any moment. She even misses the folks that worked there, which is funny, because she spent most of her time there wishing they'd just not talk to her ever.

She spends the whole beat between her answer and the woman's next question agonizing about how to soften up when she gets tossed another softball. "Uh, hike. Read. Write. Nothing too crazy." Another panic. Just tell everybody who gets in your car how fucking boring you are, please. Great job, Autumn.

AlleyCatz comes up and she feels a stone drop into the pond of her gut. Is she a friend of one of the others? How much has that gossip mill kept grinding. What was just a second of making out behind the building had, before she'd been fire a week or so prior, already turned into fucking on the pin-setter control box. "Uhm-ah, er-yeah. Actually." She brakes, really hard, for a second, because all of this internal panic had, briefly, taken her attention from the road, and she narrowly avoids rear-ending somebody slowing to take a turn. "Oh, shit! God, I'm so sorry."

[flashfanged]

MADISON PAIGE

Usually one to don a suit, tonight they choose to glam it up in hopes of impressing her girlfriend and date Mila ( @nivokova ) honestly they are worried about another chaotic evening, but have high hopes for a blissful evening with exceptional art by local artists. And to put on a performance that will make their sire proud.

[flashfanged]

The sound is pleasant and once the address has been transferred into the other’s phone they bring their arm back into themself and tap a few times, absentmindedly opening up their recent gaming fixation. Something to keep their fingers busy as they chitchat. Idle hands could often be distracting.

“Just the diner for a late-night snack before I start my night.” she replies easily, dark eyes glancing up in the mirror to meet her own, she remembers the app displaying the driver's name. “Autumn is a pretty name.” she compliments, thumbs fluttering over the screen as she tries to bolster her score, she’ll show Kevin when she sees him next at the arcade. Rub it in his face that she’s twice as far. Friendly banter before she hops on the old Dungeons and Dragons machine and tries to beat her last highscore.

Hopefully it won’t be too hard with her changes. She glances up again. “What got you into driving, it doesn’t seem like a very steady gig.” they comment, thumbs ever brushing and tapping away. With a face like the girls she could see her doing something more public, but their own anxieties remind them it isn’t for everyone. “What do you do for fun?” a pause, they look at her again and realize where they have seen that face before. “You used to work at the bowling center right? Sorry, too many questions at once.”

A smirking chuff of laughter escapes her lips, almost reflex as the girl who gets into the car seems to read the thoughts out of her mind. She shrugs either way. "Either works, I guess." She doesn't have a zelle account, but it can't be that hard to get one.

She looks at the phone and transfers the address to her own phone before she seats it back into the holder on her dashboard. "Going to anything fun?" She asks. Open invitation to share, fine enough if she doesn't want to - it pays to be cordial, Autumn's found in the course of figuring out the sweet spot for dealing with people often in a hurry to just get where they're going.

[flashfanged]

They’re lost in thought, fingers pressed together and resting under their chin as they look at the drawing, it’s enough not to hear the oncoming footsteps, enough so that a familiar voice nearly startles them. It was just as rich and alluring as they remember from that night and they take an unneeded breath. “I have a habit of being captivated by beautiful mysteries.” Madison answers, a cocky confidence in their voice. A mask that settles over them with practiced ease.

She doesn’t turn quite yet, letting the other’s presence settle behind them. Caught between wondering if it was attraction that brought them here, that made them wonder, or if it really was the mystery of a chase. Whatever it was this seems like the turning point in their hunt. Slowly their head tilts up, just catching the whisper of a face. Even from this angle, they can tell the woman is beautiful. They also come to realize they had seen her before, a feeling of pride swelling in their chest. Because yes, they still had it, that part of them hasn’t dulled like everything else. “Hand brushes over the page absentmindedly.

“I told you I had recognized your eyes, I have to ask though. Do I finally get a name to match?” they ask, ever curious. And hadn’t that been what had gotten them in this situation in the first place? Their curiosity. The way they had tried to see what was going on with a strange man in the middle of the night on their walk back to their apartment. And now here they were, not quite dead. Not quite living. Trying to find simple joys in a world so new to them, something they had been fascinated by. Something at one point they had yearned for. The fountain of youth. The embellishment of strength and power.

Perhaps they had flown too close to the sun. Their mortal delights shed as Icarus�� wings had melted. They were dead. And now they were playing into things they didn’t understand, with no proper knowledge of what it was they were tiptoeing. Of just how far into a lion’s den they were getting themself into. An unknowing gladiator being thrown in the pit, weaponless, circled by two feral beasts whose true fight was with one another.

Daytime in the teahouse brings in the other side of the curious types. The quieter, more subtle ones; both mortal, immortal, and wolfish — they like to hide behind teacups and pleasantries. Drawing in their evening entertainment to devour late into the night, biding their time til they might gamble or roll the dice, lose themselves until they might only have their soul left to offer the house.

Nsilo, when in Anemoia during the day, busies herself with the regulars. Exchanging tea with those whose company she prefers. It's a routine, almost. In amongst the chaos of the lack thereof, on other days.

She's been staring at the back of red hair, for the last twenty minutes, catching it between her laughter, sweet talks and sly remarks — to a wily pair she's having tea with. Unable to capture the face she continues to side-eye, she can see the movements of the arms, drawing with no target to muse at.

When Castillon finishes her tea, she graciously makes her exit, bidding farewell to her companions. She saunters over to the other side of the room, absently interested in the individual who isn't so familiar with her attentions.

Eyes the same jade colour of the teapot in front of her, stare back at her from the page. Nsilo rests a palm on the back of the other woman's chair, leering over her shoulder to ask: "Anyone special?"

[flashfanged]

The questions are thrown at them quickly and Madison’s brows knit together as they try to process each one, comprehension sluggish as always, there is a brief pause and they crouch down to pick up their fallen lighter, thumb brushing over the polished metal. “A new video concept,” they answer her first question, replacing the joint and lighting out of nerves. Dark eyes dancing around. Svetlana had promised to take care of them, they trust her.

“I’ve seen you around the mansion when I leave my room,” they comment after taking a drag, the mechanical movements helping to calm twitchy hands. They hadn’t exactly asked about other inhabitants. They know Ezra and Lana are there, a new family she has been brought into by the brother, confirmed by his older sister. A saving grace after the man’s lapse. He wasn’t completely well she’d been told.

“I’m twenty-seven. Lana helped me through my change about a month ago, so yes. Recent.” They study her in turn and hum. “A little outdated, but it works. I work in media so it’s pretty expected for me to keep up to date.” they look around before holding out the joint, “You want a hit? You seemed a little antsy if that yelp was anything to go by.”

"You should tell me what you were thinking," Fred blurted out without much of a think. "We're family now, we should be getting to know each other." She realized, of course, she was more traditionalist than most when it came to her clan and her loyalty to her sire — plenty of fledglings had come and gone over the decades that didn't consider themselves part of the family — but especially now, living with Svetlana, Fred wanted to make sure they were all close. Also, she needed friends.

Yes, her primary goal was to study other creatures instead of more vampires, but that would be much easier if she knew more people and knew them well. "How old are you, by the age? You look young. You either died very recently or you're very good at modern fashion," she looked at the other from head to toe, studying every item. "I'm neither. I think I need more practice. What do you think?"

[flashfanged]

They are no stranger to long nights, even as a human their nights had been spent with very little sleep, ghosts of their past causing haunting nightmares that left them waking with a start, sweat pooling from them as they gasped for air. No, wakefulness into exhaustion had been a way of life. Working on a few hours had been their norm. Now they don’t need it at all and the relief of that fact has been a blessing. Something they still haven’t gotten used to is the, well not inability, but displeasure of eating.

Part of them still craved things from their humanity. Sweets, certain fruits. It was trivial to still force themself to eat them, they were bland, flavorless mostly, a paste in the mouth that went down uncomfortably. But still, they found themself going through the motions, still not completely used to their lack of pulse. Still in denial of their death. So as they do to start their night they end up at the diner, ready to pour scalding coffee that faintly still holds that burnt quality they’d enjoyed in their mortal life and whatever confection was under the glass dome on the counter. Routine. They like routine. Structure. Habit. What they aren’t expecting is a familiar ball of sunshine, squealing and launching herself into their arms.

Madison catches Allie gracefully, nearly dancing in their movements, arms wrapping around her and pulling her higher to rest against them comfortably as they let out a little ‘oof’ “Hey there, princess.” they chuckle. It’s late for her to be here, Allie was meant for clubs and parties at this hour, they should know with how often she invites them. It’s been a while though since they’ve seen the little witch, caught up in their own tangled mess. She smells sweet they note with how close she is. “What are you doing here?”

who: @flashfanged . ♡ where: 205 Drive-In .

       as usually, she’s peppy at the rare hour of sighting of the witch at the diner. wandering around a party, sure. what keeps her isn’t typical shift scheduling, but her adamency to keep the oasis of catmint cottage just a little longer, and with it the price of rent, as well as her eagerness to cover a fellow coworker in need. she’d just never done the graveyard shift before, there’s nothing spooky about it. the only thing that turns her stomach is the anxious way she watches people, with that brewing, excitable puppy nature that says:  “ i can help! pick me! ”  some of them look at her the same, grumpy way, but some of them seem to need the kindness, the sunshine. so of course she can’t stop. it’s also kinda’ lonely, not so many people are working. at least the chef is nice, he says he’s keeping an eye on her because she’s floaty, like a bumblebee. allie likes floating.

       madi’s arrival is like a burst of fireworks, the clock ticking midnight as allie skips over to them, the squeal halfway out of her mouth as she leaps into their arms.  “ oh my gosh, what are you doing here?! ”  allie squeezes them in a leap/hug with her eyes similarly pressed shut.

[flashfanged]

For : @nsilocastillon Location : Anemoia

The tea house, they always find themself back here. It’s become their regular hangout outside the cabaret. Both places offer entertainment and enjoyment and though the snacks offered here are tasty it is the teas they try to focus on as they people watch, sketchpad in front of them as they enjoy the simple scratching of a fine pointed pencil, with breaks to text and sip from their cup. And perhaps they are looking for a pair of familiar eyes and a woman with a silver tongue that had intrigued them completely before the masquerade had ended in chaos. Not that the night had been completely ruined. After all, she’d ended up in bed with an enchanting blonde who seemed to be set on sticking around. Though in what capacity they aren’t sure of quite yet.

They haven’t told their sire where they go or what they get up to while they are out all night, not that they think need to hide anything from Lana, she’s already proven she plans to take care of them. But something in their gut tells them perhaps with the political climate it would be for the best to keep their business to themself. Looking down at the page they realize they’ve sketched those eyes that belonged to a face hidden by a mask and sigh, setting the book aside with their pencil and picking up teacup, downing it to dregs. Perhaps they should actually feed, but the hunger that compels them when they do makes them take pause. ’ You're still learning’ they remind themself, control comes with time.

[flashfanged]

They are as surprised as she is by the night's events. They hadn’t expected anything like this, Vanessa and her never talked about politics, or the world the vampire was from. Not in-depth. Sometimes they didn’t talk at all. They watch her as she goes to pick up one of the books from the pile near the couch, something they’d been buried in a month ago, before the attack, before the mercy of a man who wasn’t completely in his right mind. The gift bestowed by a family she had been taken in by.

“I wasn’t aware of it either,” she admits. Now that they are bare to one another, no masks, no glamour of the hall they are even more taken by her beauty. “And I happen to be a gentleman and terribly stubborn. I insist you sleep in the bed,” they say as if that is the final word. Starting to unbutton the sleeves of their once crisp and clean shirt that was now smeared with gore from their attack while protecting her. They want to brush their teeth and imagine they look even more a mess than they feel. At her request to shower they nod.

“Of course,” they answer without hesitation, their fingers still messing with the buttons of the shirt, feeling antsy and still full of adrenaline. Hating the way the shirt feels against their skin they don’t hesitate to start unbuttoning it completely, not at all shy as more skin is revealed. “I can show you where the bathroom is. What kind of things do you like to wear to bed? I’m sure I can find something suitable. I usually don’t really wear pajamas…but I have some stuff here that I wear to lounge in.”

She's still a little shaken from everything that happened. In her mind, she had been talking to the redhead one minute, and being yanked through a mass of bodies and blood the next. She couldn't really remember the speech the guy had given, the words slipping from her mind, she could only remember turning to him, as expectant as the rest even when half of her attention was still on her companion. The next thing she knew, blood was staining her clothes and the scent of it was too strong to ignore. It was only the strong hold of the other on her wrist, fingers pressing against her skin so tight, had she still been human, she imagines a bruise would had been left in their wake.

Mila had stopped breathing the moment they left the building, now... inside Madison's apartment, she takes a deep breath and is surprisingly relieved when all she can smell is Madison's perfume with the light touch of the blood staining their clothes. She stands shyly by a side, stepping around the apartment with curious eyes. And finds herself comforted by the mundane tasks carried by the other. Madison could do everything in seconds, she's familiar with the speed of their kind, the strength, but Mila enjoys the way they move, almost humanly if not for the grace that still hangs from their body. She looks up to their eyes, almost startled by their voice and clears her throat with a shake of her head. "None of that, this is your place and you've been kind enough taking me here. I shall take the couch."

She stars pacing once more, her eyes catching the books scattered around and she recalls the other mentioning how they too, enjoy reading. A small smile stretching her lips despite the events of the night. She shrugs, walking towards the books. "I'm okay... just surprised, I haven't been here long so I didn't know things were so... murky." She picks a book, scanning the title and author, recognizes it as one she's already read before. But then, Mila's spent most of her vampire life buried between books, she's read many things. "I would appreciate though... if it wouldn't be a bother... I would like to take a shower." And get rid of this dress. She needs to call Zane at some point.

[flashfanged]

They are in no real hurry, enjoying the night and the light breeze it provides. Walking had been an option, but with their refusal to ever really use their enhanced speed they hadn’t wanted to be too long, and the diner was admittedly further away from the mansion than their old apartment. Though their driver for the night didn’t need to know where they exactly lived, something told them that keeping unsuspecting people from the Lomidze household was for the best.

They hear her before they even come up to the car fully but act like they’ve caught the words as the door opens, their own phone in their hand while slipping into the backseat. “Have to love poorly coded apps,” they reply, settling in the seat and for her piece of mind buckling the seatbelt. “Here…” they hold out the iPhone, GPS opened and address already typed in. “I can just zelle you the cash, or like Venmo. Since some people are sketch about giving out their number,” they say simply, hoping she’ll take the offer they are giving. Hopefully, the girl isn’t paid based just by the app, because honestly from what they’ve learned with building their website after the struggle of using other platforms, well, companies tended to give you half ass resources to keep more money and pay you less.

rideshare

who: open to all! when: evening to late-night

Even though the circumstances are partly embarassing, partly infuriating, Autumn doesn't hate this ridesharing thing as much as she thought she might have. Sure, she has to work almost twelve hours in a day to make anywhere near what she'd worked her way up to at AlleyCatz, but she can pick her own hours. Except outside of certain hours, the money is shit. At least she can be a little more anti-social and just deliver food on days she just doesn't feel like dealing with people. Except the money is, again, shit compared to driving people around. And that's all moot when the app that controls all of it isn't actually working most of the damned time. "Augh," she says as whoever it is strolls up, fiddling with her phone. "I'm so sorry, the app's bugging out really bad tonight, what's the address again?"