#𓋹 dialogue

[crimson--corvid]

Garrett handed a small wrapped box to Ruairi; whatever was in it was a bit heavy for something its size. Inside was a music box made of gleaming bronze, with the mechanisms and gears visible through the glass “walls” encasing it. Winding the key would have it play a bit of a song that Ruairi cherished. On the bottom of the box, there was an inscription etched into the glass: “You are my love and my life, always.”

Ruairi, when presented with the gift, smiled wide and gently took it into his hands. "Aw, Garrett, thank you," he said sweetly as he opened it up. His eyes widened in astonishment at what he saw. A music box, perfectly and lovingly assembled. When he lifted it out of the box like a delicate butterfly, he said, "You really know how to do a gift, don't you?" with a laugh. He wound the box, and "Love is My Reason" by Ivor Novello played in chiming tones, his face twisted with nostalgic whimsy and gratitude. "Oh Garrett..." He spied a message on the bottom, gently rotating the box to read it out loud. "You are my love and my life, always." He could have cried.

"You're the brightest, kindest soul I've ever met, Garrett Moreau. I'm a better man for having ever met you." He leaned in, embracing Garret in a hug with a kiss to his lips. "With you, I have my own private heaven."

[crimson--corvid]

[sᴍs > ᴋɴɪᴠᴇs] Damn it, that was the one. He'd killed four women in the Narrows. [sᴍs > ᴋɴɪᴠᴇs]Keep it up and they might start calling you a hero, Pointy.

[ sᴍs > ꜰᴀɴɢs ] Are you going to ask every time you find a dead person in an alleyway? [ sᴍs > ꜰᴀɴɢs ] But if it was the one standing at the payphone, then yes. You snooze, you lose. ;)

[crimson--corvid]

from @made-of-archimedes [he sorta does fight the system by continuing doing vigilantism when it's been outlawed.]

[Type Bingo - ACCEPTING]

"Now this is a surprise... So many things in common. Even a couple bingos, and yet..." He thought it over for a few moments, and a faint smile blossomed across his face.

"I guess you do remind me quite a bit of someone I used to know in Bristol."

[crimson--corvid]

@the-blackened-dove 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕:

Visiting Ruairi was always a fun occasion. It was an excuse to bake something warm and sweet, buy a bottle of gin, and fuck around on a boat with her best friend. No expectations, no highfalutin, just two vampires and a little freedom. But this time was different. This was special. So she'd splurged. Good jam for the cookies, a few bottles of Moonlight, and a small stop at Pam's for a half-ounce of the good stuff. To celebrate.

Ruairí always enjoyed having Roxxy over. It was like a visit from a sister who actually wanted him around. A nice change from the kine family he used to have.

Among Cainites, it was odd to have a taste for Kine food, but Ruairí never gave it up. Vitae was, of course, the best tasting to his vampiric palette, but biscuits and booze were still damn good.

"And the good stuff," he remarked, "What's the occasion?"

[crimson--corvid]

@gnarledbite 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕:

sanctuary reversed

𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑦 - ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.

As the door to the studio apartment closed behind him, he put his back up against the wall beside it with an exhausted huff. The sun was coming up in hours, and he could feel the curse beginning to nag at him for his nocturnal rest. Gunfights at the docks had cordoned off any route to his houseboat that would go without notice, and he wasn't in the mood to dominate the minds of a dozen police officers in one night.

He looked around at the furniture, eyeing the couch as his most likely destination when the dawn came. "Nice place," he commented casually, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket as he walked toward the center of the single room apartment. "Does this come with your job, or did you pick it out yourself?" It wasn't uncommon for Kindred to be given a haven by the local Prince for work, or even by vampires of lesser rank as thanks.

[crimson--corvid]

"You play a dangerous game, little blood bag..." he growled. This Kine thought he was clever. The Beast swelled up within him, insulted by the attempt at manipulation until his true self began to fight it back again. Of course he wanted something. The man's nature seemed to be seeped with self-preservation and self-interest. Perhaps to others, he'd be an annoying little meal, easily killed for his attitude and presumption.

To Ruairi... he was a resource.

Seeing the wrist, exposed and presented, he felt the Hunger eat away at him again. It would take so much control to not drain the Kine dry. With a huff to blow his curly hair out of his face, he said, "Fine." As if he had liters to spare...

As soon as the wrist was close enough, he bit down on the flesh. The feeding was, as with most Cainites, carried with a sensation of euphoria to the vessel. It wasn't painful, but deeply stimulating, like butterflies int he gut before a wondrous event. He drank, fighting his Beats every step of the way to not drain the Kine of all his vitae. Of course, the fight got harder the more he fed. He showed no sign of stopping.

"Of course I'll help you."

His voice was soft, soothing- were it a mortal before hi, it would be a tone so soothing it opened them up to trance. But some monsters- especially the undead- were immune to Edgar's power. What they weren't immune to, was a mind game.

And oh boy, did he have a high score in those.

"But I'm not looking to die tonight, buddy. I got too much going on to let 'sentient juice box' be my epitath."

Edgar took a step forward, rolling up his sleeve as he moved closer. "I'll let you take a few litres. Just enough to smother that little voice in your head for a while. But you gotta help me get outta here. Deal?"

[crimson--corvid]

@gnarledbite 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕:

“☎” for a RUSHED text.

𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 - ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.

[sᴍs > ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ] No time to explain. Meet me at 7th and Warren. Bring a weapon.

[crimson--corvid]

@sanguine-salvation 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕:

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 - ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.

[sᴍs > ᴋɴɪᴠᴇs] Found a dead man in the alley today. That you? [sᴍs > ᴋɴɪᴠᴇs] Shame. I'd been tracking him for a couple nights. Would have been a good snack.

[crimson--corvid]

@ungraciousknight asked:

“Dinner, tonight. My place?” He leaves the note outside his door and then heads away with a smirk on his face. His number scrawled on the back of the note

He looks at the note curiously, plucking it off the door of his houseboat docked at the local port. New Orleans. He hadn't been in it again for more than a night, and already Adrian had found him. He lets a smirk sneak onto his face as he turns the paper over, seeing the number written on the back.

He pulls out his phone and begins to enter the number. A meal and a night in sounds wickedly fun.

[crimson--corvid]

@sanguine-salvation 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕:

sanctuary

𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑦 - ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.

He slammed the trap door to the below deck rooms, latching it shut to prevent any unwelcome cops or company. Turning to Zsasz, he looked out of breath for someone who didn't need the air. "What in the hell was that?" he questioned, walking toward them. "You must have had half the GCPD after you..."

His eyes narrowed, and he eyed the other for any visible injuries. Seeing bruises and cuts - far more than would be gained from running from cops - he knelt down and asked in a serious, flat voice, "... Did you get into Bat trouble? Is he tracking you?"

[crimson--corvid]

What is one of your muse’s favorite textures? Favorite sounds?

Ruairi has a lot of textures he enjoys touching, but one of the main ones is worn in leather. He enjoys how soft it feels against his skin, and how it looks with all its small imperfections and indents. He wears a lot of aged leather for this very reason.

When it comes to sounds, he loves to hear the gravel of someone's voice. A low, gruff, grumbly tone he can feel in his chest. He'll always find himself picking out voices like that in crowds, and idly listening to enjoy their timbre.

[crimson--corvid]

✇: my muse’s favorite movie, director, and/or film genre

☂: my muse’s favorite season or time of year

✧: what my muse’s netflix queue looks like

[muse headcanons - ACCEPTING]

✇: my muse’s favorite movie, director, and/or film genre

Ruairi's favorite movie is Casablanca (dir. Michael Curtiz), he doesn't necessarily pay attention to directors, and his favorite genre is either the classic noir or the classic mystery.

☂: my muse’s favorite season or time of year

Fall. He enjoys the wet season and the changing of the leaves. It marks a change only the living thing can truly experience, and reminds him of his own humanity, always in the midst of seasonal change.

✧: what my muse’s netflix queue looks like

A lot of black and white films from the silver screen of the UK, as well as WWI documentaries and biopics.

[crimson--corvid]

[sᴍs > ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ] HEAVY. SABBAT.

[sᴍs > crow] headed out. something heavy or just something that can hurt people?

[crimson--corvid]

"Did that really just happen?"

Standing over the body of a fully drained and dead kine, Ruairi wiped the vitae from his mouth in a jagged movement of his forearm. He looked frazzled, with his black tresses hanging in messy curls over his eyes as he stared down at the body. "I..."

He furrowed his brow in a mix of disappointment and shock. "I was so angry... He killed children. Six of them. He was going to do it again and I just couldn't..." He shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "He had to die, the bastard, but I've made a mess of things."

Who was he, getting so entangled in the lost lives of Kine? He had let other murderers go without so much as a second thought... But they were children...

[crimson--corvid]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. It's time to spread positivity! <3

ooc :: Awwww thank you so much! It's always a joy to write with you Holly. I think we've made a very cute pair with our OCs! Look at these two vets just pining for one another, and now they finally get to be happy! At least for now. I'm sure we'll get to explore some darker stuff as things go along, but for now I'm just happy to have some nice fluff and romance.

[crimson--corvid]

[Send a baguette to throw at my muse meme. for shits and giggles. :3]

🥖!

He turns back, rather confused, but taken back to old days of The Great Baguette Toss of months ago. As he turns to look, he spots an unexpected face, and squints his eyes.

"You too, Mask? After all this time, you really decided to give it a shot? I have to admire the gusto." He reaches down and picks up the baguette, testing its weight in his hand. "Now start running, because I'm going to throw this back at you like a javelin."