huntercam

[huntercam]

soundtrack - cam and elyse

stitches by orgy

that kinda needle drop just suddenly starts playing with no build up at their first kiss

[huntercam]

soundtrack

machinehead by bush

what plays when cam finds out reid's been turned, and their re-meeting at the junkyard a year ago.

[huntercam]

Sweetwater is a haunt that he doesn't frequent as often as he reasonably should. It's good for connecting with the rest of his ilk, but he prefers his gallery and the dungeon club beneath it. The choice of music that filters through the tinny speakers and wafts around the rest of the people here a little too old or tired to enjoy pop of this nature (himself, included.) makes his lip curl when he hears the lyrics.

"Lavender?" He looks down at the glass, fingers gingerly wrapping around it. Cam had come for his usual bourbon, but he's curious as to what this girl is playing with. He brings it to his lips and grimaces slightly. "Too much for me. It's soap."

He sets the drink down and slides it back to her. "Have any others requested this or simply placated you?"

where: sweetwater when: a random monday evening who: gemma & open ( to whomever would reasonably be in this bar )

Monday’s are not particularly wild at Sweetwater, and perhaps that’s why Gemma’s on the bar alone, and utterly bored out of her mind. She’s spent nearly $10 on the touchtunes already and delivers truly memorable performance of Mamma Mia complete with a soda gun microphone. But that can only entertain a girl for so long ( and the few customers were starting to give her That Look after the third Sabrina Carpenter song in a row ), so she generously relinquishes control of the music and decides to play mixologist instead.

“Here, try this!” Gemma slides a purpley looking concoction in the prettiest glass she could find over to the lucky patron who’s just sat at her bar. “It's an Aviation, only Dad doesn’t have crème de violette, so I used this lavender simple I made for lattes instead, and it looks basically the same. Wait!” She scrambles, remembering the garnish, and tosses a luxardo cherry into the drink, violet liquid splashing lightly. “Ok now it's perfect.”

[huntercam]

Cam's eyes flick immediately to Elyse's face - then down to Autumn's - and back up to Elyse. His usual neutral face slides down into a frown. How unfortunate that there's recognition here. People are bound to have friends of monsters. Hell, even he has his own he's friendly with. It just throws a wrench in the night's plans.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking for a moment. The wolf's begging is grating, but she's panicked and practically reaching out for Elyse's help. "Alright. You two know each other." It's not a question, but there is palpable disappointment in his tone. He turns from the two of them, over to his supplies sitting nearby.

He lifts the gun, pops the chamber, and unloads it. "These will be of no use." The bullets are held up for both of them to see - he's showing off a bit, to make sure that this wolf stays scared. They're made of the same material as the chains. "A silver bullet - aka silver in the bloodstream - will weaken her considerably, but the herb in your hands, Elyse.. that's how to ensure death." He's teaching as he goes, packing up most of his things.

When he's done, he walks back to the two calmly and gently takes it from Elyse. "Simply pressing it against the skin will burn, but not kill. She would have to ingest enough or be dosed with it otherwise. A small enough dose will knock her out."

Looking down at Autumn, he crouches down to her level to make eye contact. "I think this is a good teaching moment for you both." And he drags the herb lightly across her face, watching the skin sizzle - slightly different in the way verbena burns the vampires. "So, Elyse, are we killing her?"

He already knows the answer, but wants to hear her say it. If he's right, then they'll simply have a lesson and let the wolf go.

@elysiumkerr

They've done vampires before -- that was fun. Even if it makes Elyse feel a little uncomfortable knowing that one day Cam could have her friend Birdie on the chopping block someday. Hey, at least vampires can heal. But the werewolf... it's something different.

He's warned her about the wolves, how wild and untamed they are. They can't be reasoned with -- Elyse understands, it's like trying to discipline a dog. But worse. Still, Cam made the capture easy and the artist is thrilled for another lesson. The chains, the herbs, the maximum security space. There's still a thrilling sense of danger at the approach. When the monsters look undeniably human.

"Yeah, we definitely don't sell those at Eden's Apple," Elyse laughs, delighting in Cam's dark humor. It feels like a secret only they're sharing -- them, and the captive. She wonders about the teeth, and if a werewolf's mouth is anything as dangerous as a vampire's. A moonlight bite is damning, but when they're howling and gnashing and crying for help...

"Wolfsbane. Makes sense," Elyse repeats, grabbing the bundle of herbs he's prepared. "Yeah, I want to see how a body weakens. How the wolf withers." Their captive is laid low before them and there's a scientific curiosity growing, growing as she looks over the bound, naked form. But when Cam draws the hood down, the artist's eyes grow wide, full moons taking in the sight of their prey --

"Holy shit, Autumn?"

Elyse looks back between the girl and her mentor. If she perhaps had more sense she'd have hidden her recognition, but... Really, Autumn? She twists the herbs in her hand, trying to swallow down the curiosity, morbid as it is, and a sense of... is that guilt?

"Uhm... ah, wow -- fuck. This is awkward."

[huntercam]

He does. "I've heard of it." He rubs his thumb and index finger, the leather of the gloves almost squeaking together as he does so, thinking about the information she's laying out before him. "Baliol is having a fair just after the next full moon.." Information she likely already knows.

Cameron doesn't think that the owner will be anymore forthcoming with him if she hasn't opened up to Heron. They're both.. a lot, but Cam has no issue admitting that he isn't the most sociable, likable person to talk to. Which is why most of his hunts remove the human element entirely.

"I can take a look around separately, see what I can find." He muses, but she continues and it's not exactly the proposition he expects-- so h leans forward, intrigued. "The mayor? The human mayor? What do you suggest we do?"

"We don't really have the resources for an all out offensive, so no, this is smaller scale. Do you know Retrocity at all? Some... video arcade on Baliol." She slides a set of phials across the table. "Werewolf attacked it, I'm ninety-nine percent sure, and if you look into it, that wasn't the only thing. There are reports around it for months now, consistency is spotty at best. I have a few names to check in with still but it's like something is magnetizing disasters to that place. Owner's not forthcoming but I don't like werewolves, Cam, you know that. Vampires are, they're whatever. Reasonable things, and that makes them predictable. The packs do good enough managing their own in this armpit so this one's either young or full on rabid, and looking into police reports from the last year or so it might have been at this for a while."

She drums her nails on the table. "And that's just my current look-in. The Mayor's making some kind of play I think we should get on, faction lines between your club and my club be damned."

[huntercam]

"Unfortunately, I don't think it would have been possible or safe to capture one before they were able to shift back into a human," Cameron begins his lesson, opening the door for his student to step through. To be safe, he shuts and bolts the door behind him -- Werewolves are a unique monster to contend with, much more dangerous than vampires.

He snaps his leather gloves by pulling them taught down his wrists. The magic tattoo on his palm burns slightly with the proximity. The wolf is crying out for help, and Cameron heaves out a sigh. There's really no sympathy here for the girl, but it is an entirely different game. This is a monster. And he needs to be sure Elyse knows that.

He points to the chains holding her in place - "They're made of pure silver. Not viable for human chaining." A smile, then, as if making a joke. "But for werewolves, it's perfect. The pain holds them and saps their strength." He rests a hand on the girl's head, over the bag, rubbing her as if she were a dog.

"Wolfsbane is their other weakness. Verbena for vampires, silver and aconite for wolves. Yes?"

Cameron slips the hood off, and keeps his hand resting on her hair, holding her head still. "Would you like to do the honors with the herb?"

@elysiumkerr

darkness

who: ????????????

Consciousness finds her, but the pain finds her first; there's a dull stinging burn in her neck and her chest that threaten at the edges of some far-flung dream. Danger. Is it the bear? No, the bear is dead. Is it the mother? No, the mother is dead.

She can see, but she can't see anything, her face is hot and close and she can't smell anything through some heavy scent that soaks whatever is sitting over her face. Her head shakes as she realizes the world. She's Autumn. Her wrists burn, weighted down by something that's cold and acidy as it raws her skin. Get up.

Her heads pounding, and feels shackles pull at her, dig that burning sensation in deeper with every move as she groggily pulls at whatever shroud covers up the rest of her indecency - naked but not. She can't tell if it's a robe, or a blanket or... "Help!" Her mind sparks the word like tinder, voice hoarse enough that it barely sounds like herself. and she can taste dried blood on her lips and at the corner of her mouth. She pulls at her hands, finds they don't move, and its like every ounce of strength she's grown accustomed to has been sapped out of her. Painfully, she recognizes all of this weakness.

She tries to cry out again, pulling at her chained arms behind her back, every struggle reminding her that they don't just bind, but bite, too. "Help me!" No sight, scent is scrambled; she's only left with touch; can only feel binding cold metal burning above the pin's and needles of her extremities, can only hear the sound of her own ragged breath.

@huntercam @elysiumkerr

[huntercam]

closed starter for: @heronyearwood

Heron had caught him on one of his rare moment's existing outside of his home, his gallery, or his club. A meeting, she'd said, to discuss the matters of Port Leiry. With many of their number missing, dead, or simply dwindling - Cameron was a bit.. nervous about what that meant for the Brotherhood's order and the future of their station in the town.

He leans forward, gloved fingers wrapping tightly around his styrofoam cup of coffee.

"What's the deal, then?" He murmurs, bring the cup to his lips for a sip. It burns his tongue and his throat on the way down, but the magic underneath his gloves starts the process of etching the membranes back together. Slowly, but not as slow as it would be for someone normal. "No all out offensive?"

[huntercam]

Her smile does nothing to sate the urge to rip her apart here and now - hands on her ribcage, pulling them apart to touch the insides of her. Blood red, bleeding, raw meat hot and wet against his hands. He sighs into the kiss, a desperate groan on his lips.

Cameron truly had not expected her to return the fervor he felt, to press up against up or to hear her to ask for more. He makes a raw, grumbling sound at the back of his throat. Want, need, a sense of urgency building up within his chest. It's all-consuming, this odd warm sensation. Something like affection, if he were to linger on it.

"Elyse." Her name on his lips is not some call to the heavens. It's not him begging her for release, like he might if they were prone, pressing into each other. It's said more like a warning, like if he starts he might not ever stop. The violence she wants from him is violence that makes his fingers shake and his blood boil hot, pumping down down down.

He takes a sharp inhale of breath against her, pressing harder into the kiss to swallow up her words, bruising and biting. He can't hear more from her, lest he lose control.

And yet, still he gives her what she wants - his fingers squeeze into her throat. Cam is careful, fingers pressing against veins and arteries to block the flow of blood, but not the flood of air. Pulling back just slightly, "You tempt me." His voice has gone hoarse, "From the moment you stepped into my gallery, I wanted nothing more than this." His grip tightens. "I knew there was something in you, in your vision, the art you create."

Elyse breathes deeply as Cam's hand curls around her. She feels her lungs expanding with cool, crisp air, the subtle shift of her flesh pressing back against his fingers. The electricity in her body feels grounded by his touch, and she feels herself pouring into him.

His other hand crawls its way up her throat and she sharply inhales. Elyse's pulse thrums against his finger, more alive than the creature they killed together. Her heart beats, beats, beats -- and as much as she taunted the beast over his need for blood, she still needs it too. She wonders just what would happen if he were to...

The question is stayed with a half-kiss to the corner of her mouth, under which Elyse can feel herself smiling. "God, Cam --"

Her moan is half-caught in her throat by his firm hand as she turns herself further into him. She wants to melt into him, wolfish with hunger as her tongue licks a feverish stripe against his skin before Elyse challenges him back with another kiss of her own. She's pushing against this grasp, though he's undeniably stronger than her. Is taking a life always this... thrilling? Unraveling? She has to remind herself, the man was already dead when they got here. They simply transmuted his state of death into something less. Something lesser. Her voice gets low, soft, breathless.

"Do it."

[huntercam]

🫂 - My character's response to someone assuming our characters are dating. (Heron)

"Dating? No. I could see how she'd be fun for a few nights, though I believe I'm not her type."

[huntercam]

✨

One assumption my character has about your character.

Cam genuinely believes that Reid is a coward or a liar. He knows that there's family keeping him here, but in his mind, if Reid's beliefs about monsters are that strong, he would have already walked into the sun and gotten it over with. In Cam's mind, it's not a judgement of Reid, simply something that he's observed, and wishes to understand him more, and possibly be proven wrong. He also doesn't understand why Reid can't put his newfound power to use to hunt those he hunted before.

[huntercam]

♾️ - A random headcanon about our characters' relationship. (For Elyse?)

For as much as people assume that Cam isn't a caring person (he's mostly not), he does tend to show it in ways that others may not expect of him. Elyse, unfortunately or fortunately for her depending on your perspective, has weaseled her way into the ranks of people that he cares about. Which means, he'll lavish her with gifts - bring her food by the store when she's working, care packages when or if she's not feeling well - or going out of his way to do something for her before she asks.

[huntercam]

🔍 - My character's first impression of your character.

Cameron thought Arte was a feisty, scared little thing when he first saw them. Back then, he had no desire to maim or harm physically - because of his own moral code - but he did find himself intrigued by what they might grow into.

[huntercam]

He's seen this scene a multitude of times - a stake in a heart, the flakes of a person falling into dust. In fact, he's committed the very act right here where they stand - only now he's sharing it. He moves one of his gloved hands to her waist, fingers curling around her possessively.

Elyse's reaction tells him all he needs to know here: he's made the right choice in bringing her here, in feeding whatever darkness is building in her mind.

She leans back against him and he feels the want rise up in him, an unfamiliar thing building in his chest until he can feel his own heart thumping wildly. So he drops her hand and the stake, moving this hand to slide up her throat, thumb digging into her jaw - a steady, heavy touch. Cameron's attention isn't to harm here, but to hold, to direct.

The angle is a bit awkward, but looking on, he feels like he's stepped into some sort of painting. Him, the dark brooding figure overshadowing the younger, beautiful woman. He doesn't mind the imagery of it, knowing that he can corrupt and take all he likes here. Those are what his mind conjures up as he shifts her head towards his, and presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. He'll stop if asked, or if she pulls away - but for the moment, he needs to satisfy the craving.

Elyse appreciates that, for all the swiftness of a vampire's wound closure with or without verbena, the blood spilled is gone. To some, it might appear wasted, and to others, spent with purpose. The ground, her clothes, and his skin are flecked with it. The vampire cannot take it back.

But his thrashing strength and the sheer scope of flesh and tendon keep Elyse from finishing the work. Her ears burn hot at Cam's dark chuckle, but she presses herself into him as he offers his aid -- his strength, knowledge, and experience would be hers. She'd be his brush, a conduit and an instrument. Oh, they were going to make such beautiful art together.

"Practice," she repeats, giddy with the promise that there would be more opportunities. The vampire is in agony, and Elyse is enraptured. Her breathing, too, has begun to grow heavy with effort as she and Cam press further into the creature's chest. All it will take is one... more... thrust--

The artist gasps at the final push, feeling the thick catch of the wood against heart, and then the release as the vampire begins to flake away into ash and empty matter. "God... wow," she pants with satisfaction, staring down to the stake she and Cam still have wrapped in their grasp. It really is no different than the handle of a paintbrush in some respects. A delirious laugh bubbles in Elyse's throat, "Hah, hah wow!" before she tilts her head back against Cam's shoulder, feeling her heartbeat in her face. Fear, excitement, adrenaline all make a heady cocktail of emotion, leaving her fingers tingling with electricity.

[huntercam]

Cameron looks up, interest piqued by the mention of another cursed wolf in town. His own projects had been mostly focused on vampirism, of course, but there was a certain beauty in the transformation of the dogs. Lucian and his experiments, though, were another thing entirely.

"I can't say I have." He shakes his head in return, "You know my interest mainly lay elsewhere, though, so it shouldn't come as a surprise."

He moves to adjust something in the gallery, to move his hands so as to not simply stand there like a dolt. "What's your interest in them?"

He smiles, humming as he turns back to Cameron, amused at the ever present wariness. Must be what's kept him alive for so long, hunting beasts. "Ah yes, my dear Artemis... I heard they were here, I have my plans to pay them a visit at some point."

But he shakes his head, hands falling into his pockets. "But no, is not them I'm talking about." He pauses, head tilting to a side as he assesses Cameron. "Surely in your time here you've heard of this family, cursed to fall slowly into madness."

[huntercam]

💋

💋do they like to kiss while having sex? do they cuddle afterward?

Depending on the partner he's with, absolutely. Cameron is attentive - whatever that means for the other person. If they like to kiss during, he will kiss them. If they find it off-putting, he won't. That philosophy goes to everything he does sexually -- as weird and intense as his preferences are, he does not force them on others and only likes to provide the option for it.

Cuddling, though, would not come easy to him. He would try, but affection is difficult. This one truly depends on intense his 'feelings' for the other person are.

[huntercam]

Cameron's eyes narrow ever so slightly at Lucian's words. Of course he knows of the cursed wolf-- he'd laid eyes on them only the once and been reminded that he should not approach further unless he wanted to be destroyed. Threat or prediction, he couldn't be sure.

"Artemis?" He asks, just for clarity. How many other 'cursed wolves' could there be, really?

"I've seen them. That is who you mean, no?"

He looks the same as he remembers, perhaps only more serene in all his wore down appearance. Cameron wasn't ever a man of displayed emotions ---not that he, himself was one. But the smile only makes his own grow the bit larger. And he shrugs as he tilts his head one way and another. Nothing is ever truly that simple.

"Well you know I'm an avid fan of your creations." The ones he displays and the one he keeps to himself. His smile turning into a light smirk, he turns back to the painting and shrugs. "But I must admit it wasn't just your art that drew me into this city." He was yet to find the wolf, but Lucian was a man of patience.

"What do you know of a cursed wolf? ---Sounds interesting, doesn't it? A curse above a curse."

[huntercam]

"Not at all. We're simply.. particular." The teasing is taken in stride, even if a bit literal. There's no reason to return in kind, so he simply nods at the short answer to his question -- his curiosity can be sated later if they happen upon each other again. There is, definitely, still the fact that this boy's face looks familiar.

If anything, he must find a way to circle him again. "We're opening a new nightclub attached to the gallery." His gaze shifts to the bathroom, "You and your friend would be welcome." Hopefully the construction will be finished soon, but for now he can only offer the idea of it. "If the art interests you, more of the same will be in the club."

His gaze shifts, once more, back to this gloves with a hum. "Not particularly." Cameron flexes his hand and allows a sly smile. "I don't deprive myself, if that's your angle."

"How unfortunate." Riven assumed, "Does that mean you're low on clientele?" He'd blame Tomas for his cheeky mood, and the urge to tease and taunt the man. He was playful in nature, but banter was reserved for familiar faces only. Strangers he was rather quiet and curt to. His smile a tight line usually, not like now — too big for his own face.

He'd argue newspapers were boring and that a man of his talent needed a bigger fish to fry, but he wasn't a real writer, and the books he edited were worse than those daily horoscopes next to the crosswords at the back of a tabloid. "Books." he said with the confidence of Hemingway (assuming he had any) and a small tilt of his head, to study those gloves. His smile shrinking by the edges, but only slightly.

The subject of his phobia was a lot more fascinating than the one of the garbage books he had to deal with on a daily basis. Or the one of his own quirks. He'd rather not talk about himself. "Do you not miss it? Human touch?" assuming he was human, which Riven was almost certain in. He wouldn't pin him for a glove wearing werewolf afraid to get down and dirty in the mud. And vampires were hollow chested, he'd have picked up on the quiet.