sxverana

[sxverana]

It was.. strange to be a guest in such a new place. Rokshana had always been a sheltered girl, not having traveled as much as her father had. But when the chance came to accompany him here, to this kingdom- she could hardly refuse.

And Ariana, dear lovely Lady Ariana- a princess of a court that carried weight heavy, much like herself. Someone who understood the heft of a crown on the brow. And yet here she was, being friendly, kind, polite- helping her feel welcome in this place.

"I would not call your kindness simple, Highness. Your family has welcomed mine with such vigor and enthusiasm. I cannot express my gratitude enough."

"i'm glad to see such a simple thing can bring you joy."

[sxverana]

Send 💋 to give my muse a kiss

Add 'reverse' to have my muse kiss yours

[sxverana]

Go on Anon and explain why you think my Muse should be on the Naughty or Nice list.

[sxverana]

Rokshana would find a package in front of her residence's door in the morning of the 25th. There is no sender address or name, but a very familiar handwriting - almost cursive, but the one who wrote it lifted the pen for each individual letter rather than write each word together. The same handwriting as the only other signature in the contract that freed her.

The paper on the package wrote: "I am not sure if you celebrate this holiday, but I do hope you will enjoy this gift regardless." The package itself was protected with magic that dispelled once Rokshana took it, seemingly put on so it would not be stolen. Inside, there were a few cups, plates and bowls of handmade pottery. Or rather 'claw'-made as they were not entirely even and had marks of claws taking just a little bit too much off the top. An earnest attempt at a gift, albeit an average one. The traditional Romanian patterns painted on the pottery were made by a steady hand. They adapted to the imperfections and kept everything relatively well spaced. Whoever send this clearly got somebody's help to paint.

The box was opened and examined with care, gentle hands tracing the patterns so lovingly painted on every dish. She had not been expecting any gifts this year, considering her solitude. But this was.. lovely.

Thoughtful, even.

Over and over, her hands would graze across the letter, trying to figure out whose handwriting was in her grasp. She knew this penmanship from somewhere, surely...

A sigh passed her lips after the fifth re-read. The letter was carefully folded, slipped into a drawer for safe keeping, and the draculina would reach for one of the mugs.

Perhaps some tea would help her think.

[sxverana]

source

[sxverana]

— Sally Owens

[sxverana]

oh to be the horrible undead

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"A guide.."

The offer had appeal, the draculina clicking her tongue softly at the offer. He certainly seemed to have the confidence of a man who knew his way- and confidence carried weight in a place like this.

She smirked softly, offering an outstretched hand to the other. "Rokshana Tepes. A pleasure, Sir Hammerlock. I'd be much obliged to your services."

Her accent was heavy, thick with the distance of old mountains and foggy rivers, a world distant and cold, but not without its passions.

{ Thanks for the follow @the-blackened-dove! }

"Why hello there and welcome to Pandora! I am Sir Alistair Hammerlock, renowned hunter and from what I believe to be not of Pandoran clothing, a guide should you request it! For convenience you can call me Hammerlock." He really seemed enthusiastic about the whole endeavour!

Some company would be incredible for him!

[sxverana]

She chuckled, resting her chin in her palm. There was a sense of amusement, even interest- the way she smiled was almost cheshire.

"If I had a nickel for every time a pretty man who thought himself clever tried to pull a pun about my fangs, I would be a millionaire thrice over. But it was cute, coming from you."

He smiles, this shit eating grin. He's convincing himself he didn't flub it~

"Come on, it's a good one.." ♱

[sxverana]

The forests of the Banat were not a friendly place for a young girl. Even if she had been a young girl for far longer than any should be. The snow had frozen over the hem of her skirt, the leather of her shoes cracking from the weather damage.

The only good was how little sunlight there was. Winter seemed to be eternal here. No sun, no need to hide.

Oh, she was sore. Tired, and tender to the touch. Everything ached, and the wind caught her curls, tangling them in its relentless breeze.

So tired…

The girl was hardly paying attention when she stepped. The tread of her shoes had worn down so much that the ice was quick to trip her up. A thunk of body hitting earth rang out. The straw that broke the camel's back.

She curled up there, back to the trunk of an old sycamore, trying to hide her face- lest the tears freeze to the poor child's skin.

The dusk was bitingly cold; each draw of freezing air burned the lungs; any ordinary person foolish enough to wander the forest at night, if the foul creatures that roamed it didn’t kill them, then the cold indeed would claim them, sapping every bit of warmth from their bodies and leaving them frostbitten husks.   Even with the assistance of her vision piercing the veil of black, the forest was still dark, the trunks of the trees dark silhouettes like shadows against the blanket of white powdery snow covering the ground. The thick frozen branches of rhododendron, the forest grounds were teeming with them, the length of the gnarled bough stretched high, coated in frost and thin sheets of ice.

The silence of the forest suddenly came alive with the thundering sound of hooves echoing in the depths of the forest, the Banat came alive with the neighs of mighty horses, Transylvanian Horses.   Upon his black steed, blazing through the frozen wintry wood, a cloaked man with a black hood draped over him hiding his features rode quickly across the way. Bringing his horse to a stop, he turned ‘round facing forward

“What's wrong Marishka? Your mare lame already?”

She soothed her steed- a brilliant brown and white horse with mane near as light as her own hair. It whinnied, shaking its head as the woman cooed, stroking its neck.

"She's frightened, darling. I can't seem to get her to calm down."

The horse huffed, stepping backwards and pulling left- and Marishka could hardly keep it steady. "Isadora, please- shhh, hey now. What's going on with you?"

Her horse had never been so eager to turn away from the mountain path. Steady, steady toward the woods. And the more she resisted, the more it seemed she was running not away from something, but toward. Such was the nature of a retired warhorse- trying to warn its masters of trouble.

Marishka lifted her gaze to her husband. "Darling…"

Dismounting off his horse, he gradually ambled his way towards Isadora.

“Fată ușoară,”

A hand was placed upon her muzzle, his voice becoming a soothing distant echo as he attempted to converse with the mare as he placed it under his soothing spell.

“Ce e în neregulă cu tine,”

The horse would steady herself, Dracula delving deep into the horse's mind to see what ailed it. When it was revealed, it was quite a shock to be sure.

“Are you sure Isadora?” The Vampire King inquired, his ears perked. His eyes now peering into the depths of the wood, his eyes glowing brightly like hellfire as his sight now pierced the veil of coming darkness over the Banat. His sight magnifies through the tree lines, peering past the frozen bark and underbrush.

“There is someone out there...”

Her eyes narrowed, and the grip on the reins tightened at the thought. "Should we…?"

She tried not to insist on her husband dealing with people. This part of the Banat had an unfortunate number of people passing through on any given day, even in these storms. And Vlad was not always personable. But if someone was hurt..

She was a doctor. She took an oath.

The horse stomped in the snow. Almost instantly, in fact. Marishka looked to her husband as Isadora protested. Someone needed to go. It could be troublesome.

“We shall both go” He nodded, his hand taking hold of the ebony hilt of his sword Strigoi, unsheathing it from its brass hilt, the crimson blade gleaming brightly even in the shade. He took her by the hand.

“Stay close my love, and if I tell you to run, run!”

And so, the Count and his Countess, King and Queen hand in hand trudged now along the depths of the forest as night further descended. The Dark Lord’s sword raised high and ready for any potential attack, his eyes continuing to peer through the forest. There, resting upon the bark of a sycamore tree. The form of something, the outline of someone

“By the Nine Circles!!” His eyes widened as his pace quickened.

She was nearly passed out from the cold, raven curls dark against the stark white snow. Small, so very small, her skin ash-pale and clothing torn to shreds at the hem by rhododendron.

A child.   A child, alone in the snow, shivering and silently fighting to stay awake. For if she fell asleep in the cold, who knew when she would awaken?

Her hair matted, frostbite long having turned her tiny fingers an icy blue. Barely a girl, hardly yet a woman.

Isadora kept pace with the Count, Marishka clinging tight to her as they made headway to the strange form- and horrified at the vision before them.

The closer they grew, the more terror and pity gripped the woman's heart.

The blade of his sword cut through a few of the thick vines clearing the way through a steep cliff, down the way, clear as day even in the fading light of day. A child.

“Stay here!” He said, sheathing his sword and making his way quickly down the ravine, until finally reaching flat earth. He undid his cloak, wrapping it tightly around the freezing child.

“Copil? Mă puteţi auzi?"

„Îmi pare rău… Deci… obosit.. Doare- Am încercat, îmi pare rău-”

When she coughed, the smallest flecks of blood stained the child's sleeve- but in her mouth, not teeth, but fangs caught the dying dusk sun.

A fledgeling.

The thought was horrifying. To turn a child was a sin not even the darkest of Strigoi would commit. It was beyond taboo- children were much too fragile. Their bodies are incomplete and minds unfinished.

As if by instinct, she buried her face against his chest-, seeking what little warmth the fur lined cloak could grant her. A brand burned into the back of her neck could be seen through her matted curls. Something to investigate, perhaps.

Shock, even rage bubbled within but more so. A deep sense of pity for the poor girl. His jaw muscles tensed, brows furrowed as he held the child close to him, tucking his cape ‘round her practically cocooning the little fledgling. A hand rested on her head, pressed tightly against his shoulder as his arms lifted her up as if she weighed nothing.

A single bound and Dracula would cast himself high across the air, hovering his way to the edge of the ravine, his feet landing as perfectly as a cat's.

“Marishka help me please-” He pleaded, parting the hood away so she could see.

The smallest gasp passed her lips as Marishka reached out, brushing the child's hair from her face as she shivered. Oh, how a thing so small could survive out here in the cold…

"We have to get her back to the castle, the poor thing will turn to ice out here." She opened her arms to Vlad, motioning for him to pass and move astride her steed. Isadora stamped her hooves in the snow, as if eager to rush home. Perhaps she was picking up on the moods of her masters, or perhaps the weather was shifting around them.

"Quickly, quickly. before the night winds come!"

Handing the girl over to her, he stops for a moment. His hands wrapped around the child’s hand for a brief moment.

“Ești în siguranță acum micutule...” His words would utter deeply into the recesses of her mind. With that, he called his steed and with haste mounted back upon the saddle.

“Ride like the Devil himself is on your heels!”

Cracking the strap loudly he compelled both horses to gallop at full speed, riding now through the Banat at incredible speeds, both horses staying side by side despite their great stride. Soon they would break the thicket of the forest, into the clearing of frozen tall grass leading the way up the mountain pass, Devil's Fang Mountain, the highest peak in all of Transylvania, its rocky cliffs were steep and sharp, piercing toward the heavens nearly touching the clouds. There, upon the top of the mount, was the fortress of legend, Castle Dracul.

They would use the back entrance, there the drawbridge leading to the stables and the battlements where many guards stood by. The sound of the horses alerted the guards, who looked on to see their returning lords galloping towards them.

“OPEN THE GATES!” Dracula shouted, to which the drawbridge was immediately lowered for them.

When they entered the castle, the warmth seemed to seep into her bones. The child's breathing steadied, the shaking now barely a light tremble. The heat of the candles and the blazing hearth had healed her aching bones just enough to make the pain tolerable.

She burrowed further against Marishka's chest, hiding from the light.

"Mh…"

"It's alright little one.. you're okay. Everything is okay."

She held the child tighter as the girl began to settle in her arms. She was such a sweet looking girl, cherubic cheeks and button nose. So innocent. She had always hoped for a child, one that would look like this. A beautiful little girl to teach all her lessons, to share her knowledge with.

She cradled the child closer, careful as she dismounted the horse. So fragile little ones were. She had a patient about this age.

Ever the stoic ruler Dracula was tall and proud in his stance as he led them into the Castle. Once entered, The Vampire King made his way into the foyer with Marishka close by.

“Igor!” Dracula sternly said, but not loud enough to disturb the girl. At once a little head poked itself from around the corner of the stairs, eyes as big as a kitten while the left one was most certainly bigger. The hunchback, the little child inventor Igor, so small he was, no bigger than a four year old, but all the more capable as he ran to his master's side

“Master master!” Shouted little Igor, pointing a tiny little finger at the girl in her arms. “Who is that? Who is that?”

Dracula hushed the little hunchback, “Be quiet child!” He said sharply “Go and fetch your mistress her medical tools, and be quick about it.” He said, giving him a light pat behind his hump.

"We should get her to the lab. She'll need something to treat the frostbite, her fingers are nearly blue…"

Something about the way she looked, fussing over the child's fingertips as the poor thing rested against her seemed so natural. The same way it had when she was coddling Igor, brushing the matted hair from his eyes. As right as the golden light of dusk, as the blue moon above them.

Marishka cradled the girl's hand in hers, pressing a tiny kiss to her fingertips. There was pity, but also.. fear. And sadness, as they marched to the lab, the child whimpering in her arms.

Igor’s lab was much smaller then, not as crammed, his experiments only minor contraptions placed upon a few wooden tables amongst the glassware and the abundance of herbs Marishka used. Igor hobbled along, kicking open the laboratory door, running over to the examination table, pulling over Marishka's equipment.

Igor hopped to Dracula’s side, pulling on his bootstrap.

“Master! Who is that?” The hunchback child said with a curious tilt of his head.

“I know not Igor, we found her lost and abandoned in the Banat.”

As she laid the child down, her hair fell to the side- and the burn on her neck became far more clear. An awful thing, that crest- that of a family barred from the court of Dracul.

A lion on its hind legs, branded into the child's neck. The symbol of the Austrian slavers, the Von Krolocks.

Awful men, the Vampires Von Krolock. Cruel, hateful men who promised to reform spirited young women into suitable brides, only to thrall them and betrothe them to allies of the clan. Brainwashing young girls, making them into obedient pawns in a chess game that spanned all of Europe.

Marishka scowled. "One of Reuber's fledgelings, of course. The poor girl… She couldn't have been more than fourteen when he took her. Repulsive little man…"

She turned to her tools, whispering a quiet 'thank you' to Igor. She pressed a kiss to the boy's head, before taking a vial of iodine in hand.

“Fiend!” Dracula hissed! “I thought I had put an end to his madness!” Dracula was a cruel creature, this he knew. Yet, one thing he couldn’t abide was slavery. Memories of his childhood came flooding back to him in horrid flashes, his jaw muscles tensed and his brow furrowed.

“I’ll make him rue the day he slivered forth from his mothers womb!”

His attention drew them to the girl's little hand. His drawing nearer to it and taking it into his palm. Sadness overcoming his handsome features.

"We knew he took after his Sire, beloved.. it was only a matter of time before he took over." She pursed her lips, drawing a few milliliters of the iodine into a small syringe. An old trick, the fluid restoring the flow of blood to the body. A way to warm the flesh, even of those for whom the heartbeat had long slowed.

Marishka was careful, bringing the needle to the girl's elbow, quick to find a vein. As the fluid filled her veins, the child whimpered- her eyes clenched shut tight.

"Mmmh.. doare…" She mumbled as the needle was quickly removed. Her hand quickly grasped Vlad's, her tiny claws digging into his skin.

"I know dear," Marishka cooed, "I know. But it will help you.."

The claws digging into him would not perturb him. He was accustomed to pain, he had endured much worse than this. Despair was present in the King's features, a thumb caressing the child’s knuckles. He was unsure of himself, unsure of the child. But, he could already feel it, tugging at his black heart. The want to protect.

It was unfair, that such little things should have to suffer and endure the cruelties of this world. Much like he once did, when he was but a boy, all those centuries ago.

“We can’t leave her…” He muttered “Not now…she has no one. She will be shunned and hated by all, hunted by the humans... "

The child's eyes opened. Opalescent, reds and yellows and blues sparkled behind the glassy pain that shone in her. She was Strigoi alright, undead as the evening dark. But she was also afraid.

"Nu vreau sa mă întorc…"

The Countess melted at those words, her heart near broken in two. She took the girl's cheeks in hers, pressing her thumbs against the softness of her cheeks. "No, of course not. Never, we never. You poor little thing…"

And like that, the Vampire King could take no more. He scooped the child into his strong arms, holding her gently against him as he took a seat upon the examination table- not caring who was near or what was going on. His instinct took over to protect a fledgling that he had now claimed his own. His hands stroked at her mane of black hair, his lips kissed her brow sweetly as he rocked the child

“Acolo micuțule,” He uttered softly “Ești în siguranță cu noi, nu ți se va întâmpla niciun rău. Îți jur.”

His eyes looked back at Marishka, eyes filled with red, bloody tears forming on the edge of his eyes almost pleadingly at her.

She paused- almost amazed at how quickly her husband took the girl into his arms. The ease with which the child seemed to burrow against him for safety. Small, delicate hands now wrapped in bandages, desperately gripping at the Monster King as if this were the safest place on earth.

How could she ever say no?

Instead, she offered a hand to Igor, her leg reaching to drag the step stool out from the exam table for him, to give the young hunchback a better look.

"Igor, my darling… This girl needs a family. She is all alone, and so very scared…" the countess took a knee beside the boy, letting him see this little stranger in his Master's arms.

The bruises on her wrists from heavy shackles. The fear in her face as she tried to hide from the light.

"I think she should be part of our family. Don't you?"

The little hunchback back poked his wee body up the examination table, to see the poor fledging desperately clinging to The Vampire King, so afraid and fragile in this very moment.

His lips pouted, bushy brows knitted together in an expression of sympathy that tugged at the child’s heartstrings. Igor looked up at the Countess, his mouth pursed, a look of determination as he nodded to her. Acceptance.

“I will guard her with my life Mistress!”

She took the hunchback's cheek in her palm, returning the child's gaze with a tender smile. "My wonderful boy…"

The hunchback gazed up at the countess, a wide brimming smile curling on his ugly features. “ Thanks, Mom!”

A kiss pressed to Igor's forehead would leave a small stain, before Marishka returned her gaze to her husband. She could never say no, not to him. Not about something like this. The girl was in need, and it was their duty to care for all who hid in the dark.

"It's unanimous then. She will stay with us."

Marishka reached out to brush the hair from the girl's face, her thumb wiping the tears from her cheek. "What is your name, little Bat?"

The child stirred, leaning into Marishka's touch and begging for comfort. She had not known this kindness in far too long, it seemed. Half-lidded eyes met the Count and his bride, the grip on Vlad's shirt only tighter.

"Rokshana…" she mumbled.

Enlightened, in the mother tongue.

The Vampire King smiled at this, fingers lightly stroking a few strands of black hair away from her face.

“What a lovely name that is...”

[sxverana]

"Is it you? Have my prayers been answered? Is it really you standing there? Or am I dreaming once more?"

"You look different- Your eyes look tired.. Your frame is lighter, You smile torn-"

"Is it really you, my love?"

[sxverana]

"Glad to see you're sensible about these matters, my dear."

A pact made and sealed with intent, business was business in the underworld after all. Everyone had a price. Most would deny it, of course- the idea that anyone could be bought was such an uncouth ponderance. But in a world where money talks, well..

She released the assassin;s grip witha simple smooth motion, reaching to pick up her phone. "Now, how would you take that? Wire transfer, stocks, assets, or cash?"

Kiran took a deep breath as the pressure was removed from her chest, and looked up suspiciously at the offered hand. Only for a moment, though, before she took it and brought herself up.

"Hmm, is my reputation worth three hundred thousand euros - yes it is."

[sxverana]

RP masterlist

As a roleplayer myself, I realized is quite difficult to find blogs to follow once you enter a new fandom, so I decided to make this masterlist.

Reblog this post and add the tags following the example below, and I will feed the masterlist weekly.

Examples: Muse - fandom - canon/oc Dean Winchester - Supernatural - Canon Crowley - Good Omens - Canon divergent Kaira Alderoon - Star Trek - OC

The masterlist will start being fed on the next week and will be pinned to this blog.

If you're a multimuse blog, you can add each character per tag.

Example:

This post was made in 09/26/2023 and the master list will be posted and pinned to the blog in 10/02/2023 with weekly updates.

[sxverana]

going away for a while.

dont know how long it will be this time.

if I don't come back... well.

it's been a good run.

[sxverana]

"I don't know who you are, nor why you're here- But let me make this one thing clear."

"I've got people to protect, Nymphs I can't neglect-

So I'm not taking chances, dear."

[sxverana]

[sxverana]

Paranoia Sentence Starters

“What was that?!” “Are you following me?!” “Why are you following me?!” “Stop that! Stop it!” “What’s that for?” “Don’t hurt me!” “W-We need to get out of here!” “Were you followed?” “I think someone’s following me!” “Help me, please!” “No! Stay away!” “I’m frightened!” “I can’t go to bed! They’ll get me!” “Go see what it was!” “I’m too scared!”