#( CLOSED STARTER. )

[casareds]

lips press together , just watching the other before sighing . " what is preventing you from telling the truth ? "

⌗ closed starter.   ﹙ one liner ! ﹚

[starcunin]

closed starter | @accultant

The vampire lounges by the fire, vermillion eyes flickering with the reflection of the dancing flames as they flit across the camp, yet his gaze is fixed on something far more enticing. Puck. Or rather, the hot, rich blood he can almost taste beneath the surface of that skin. He’s watched the others from a distance, keeping his secrets hidden behind a mask of charm and wit, but Puck… Puck is different. There’s a vulnerability there that Astarion recognizes all too well. It’s the kind of vulnerability that could be easily exploited, if only the right strings were pulled.

For over a fortnight, they’ve traveled together, the mind flayer tadpoles wriggling away in their skulls, tying their fates together in the most grotesque of ways. It’s an uneasy alliance, and Astarion knows better than to fully trust any of them—but he’s learned how to use people, to bend them to his will. Puck, with that vacant look of someone who has lost all memory, is the perfect candidate for a bit of careful manipulation. He could become a reliable source of protection, even a steady meal, if played correctly. But there’s a complication—a thorn in Astarion’s side that he hadn’t anticipated.

Iago. The “friend” who seems to hover a bit too closely to Puck, whose eyes are always watching, always calculating. Astarion knows there’s more to that story—he can practically smell the lies on Iago’s breath whenever they speak. And while he hasn’t quite figured out the full extent of the deception, he can feel it in his bones that Iago is hiding something.

He can’t afford to make any mistakes. Not with the others blissfully unaware of his true nature, not with this bloody parasite scrambling his brains. But the hunger… it’s growing stronger by the day. He hasn’t fed properly since this whole nightmare began, and the temptation that Puck presents is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Astarion’s crimson eyes trace the line of Puck’s throat, imagining the warmth of blood spilling over his tongue, the sharp pain of his fangs sinking into flesh… It takes every ounce of self-control not to act on it, not to give in right there and then.

But then he feels it—a pair of eyes on him. He tears his gaze away from Puck and meets Iago’s stare across the fire. They’ve caught him. For a split second, there’s a flash of something in Astarion’s expression—annoyance, perhaps, at being interrupted—but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a cool, practiced smile. He arches an eyebrow, ❛ Oh, don’t mind me, ❜ he says, his voice smooth and just a touch too casual. �� I was simply… admiring the fire. Nothing more. ❜ The lie slips easily from his lips, but there’s a tension in the air now, a thread pulled taut between them, and Astarion wonders just how much longer he can keep up this delicate dance.

[stayliquid]

closed starter for @mccntower muse. bailey rollings, maddie phillips fc.

"I'm sorry, who are you again? Have we met?" The blonde raised her voice loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the club goers in the background. Bailey did enjoy playing games, especially since she was still mad after their last encounter. "I'm gonna keep acting like I don't know you until you've finished groveling."

[ulyflynn]

closed for: @edietello

where: docks near fisher's cove

The ride down to the docks was more familiar to him than the back of his own hand, the turns from Ocean Crest remained the same unlike his extremity where healing scratches that once held glass shards and stitched split knuckles still stung every time he used the hand clutch on his bike.

He parked up outside the Tello house in a space that he had once claimed as his own, the walk to where Javier’s boat was docked feeling like an endless stretch. It had been his idea to meet, his conversation with his sister fresh on his mind and still he can’t find it in himself to trust that it wouldn’t go sideways like most things he tried to right.

It’s too late to turn back as he nears the boat and the blonde, not needing to check his phone to know the time. It had to be seven thirty on the dot, Edie wouldn’t have arrived a minute earlier or later.

“Hey.”

[reggiellewellyn]

reggie 📱 peter.

Reggie: You know, you could make a real killing if you were spinning those decks in Ibiza Reggie: Have you ever considered 👀 @peterbasara

[mackmontgomery]

mack 📲 shiloh.

Mack: Hello gay person in my phone 😍 what if I told you there was another gay person in my phone that I think would be perfect for you 👀 @shilohsharma

[nomadjones]

dallas 📲 angel.

Dallas: You want in on this betting pool for whether we'll see any flower-theme catastrophes this week?

[rafaelmoldonado]

CLOSED STARTER; set at Caffélicious

Rafael sat back down with a sigh. The feud between the two cafes was growing steadily and there was a point where he worried whether it would reach a boiling point. It was like the Stephen King book, Needful Things. Soon enough, something would break. Of course he took it upon himself to intervene whenever he was around. He'd just diffused what was shaping up to be a tense conversation while his cappuccino cooled at the small table he had been sitting at before sensing something bad. "Sorry, you were saying something." He took a sip of his coffee then folded his hands in front of him. Rafael liked to give his full attention to whoever he was speaking to. It was just difficult when he felt like a war may break out and ruin his favorite places to get coffee.

[xaviermattthews]

x 📲 gideon.

x: i'm not going to be able to make the meeting on wednesday. x: thursday work for you?

[luckylewis]

lucky 📲 finn.

Lucky: Will you be partaking in any Halloween festivities this year good sir @finn-brooks

[bludmystic]

closed starter | @accultant

The fire crackles nearby, casting long shadows that dance across the lich’s ashen skin. She feels none of the warmth from the flames, but watches the way it flickers in Iago’s eyes——violet, shifting, full of something they’re trying too hard to hide. Her gaze lingers on them for a moment longer before she takes her place beside them, careful to leave enough space that they don’t feel crowded, but close enough to speak without being overheard. There’s an odd serenity to the night, but it does little to ease the gnawing curiosity in her mind.

❛ I wanted to speak with you, Iago . . . if I may? ❜ She’s been watching them, of course. A week now in their company, and yet something about their very presence continues to prod at her subconscious, tugging at the threads of memories she cannot seem to grasp. They hadn’t said they knew her, not once, but she knows. The fear that flickered in their eyes when they first locked onto her wasn’t imagined. It’s a puzzle, one she cannot ignore.

She keeps her composure as she speaks, even though the hunger clawing at the depths of her stomach is a constant reminder of her body’s state. That cold, creeping sensation beneath her skin, the way her flesh doesn’t warm or pulse, the absence of breath unless she forces it——there’s no denying the truth of it, not anymore. ❛ I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I seem to be . . . well, quite literally dead. Right? ❜ Her tone remains calm, clinical, as though discussing something mundane, but her gaze sharpens, watching for the subtlest shift in Iago’s expression.

Elyndra pauses, glancing down at herself as if to emphasize her words. The lifeless pallor of her hands rests on her lap, unmoving. ❛ It’s the only thing that makes logical sense, ❜ she continues, her voice softening into a whisper, one meant only for Iago’s ears. ❛ and I’ve been thinking about it for days now… it’s the only thing that makes the—❜ She hesitates, searching for the right word, though there’s a quiet weight to the truth. ❛——the urges——make sense. ❜ Her lips press together in a thin line, her gaze steady, though beneath it all, the hunger swells, aching to be sated. It often times, like right now, will say terrible things like:

DEVOUR THEM. RIP THEM ALL APART. KILLKILLKILLKILLKILL—

She tilts her head slightly, studying Iago with that same unrelenting curiosity. ❛ You just seem like a smart person, ❜ she murmurs, the hint of a smile curling at the edges of her mouth. ❛ and I think I might be a smart person too. Really smart. ❜ Her voice is matter-of-fact, lacking any arrogance, merely a statement of observation. ❛ Maybe you can help me make sense of things. ❜ The words hang between them, a careful invitation, cloaked in the pretense of inquiry, but Elyndra knows there’s more at stake here than just her forgotten past. Iago is a part of that past. She’s certain of it.

Her gaze never wavers as she waits for their response, though her mind is already working, calculating. She has no memory of who she was, but her instincts have not left her. She knows how to read people, how to see beyond the surface of their words, and Iago——poor, skittish Iago——is no exception.

[casareds]

aspen hums softly , tilting her head to look at the other when the settle beside her - finger tucking between her pages to keep her space . " you okay ? you've been quiet today , " she speaks quietly , smiling softly as she leans over to press a kiss to their cheek before turning her attention back to her book .

⌗ closed starter.   ﹙ based on this plot  ﹚

[starcunin]

closed starter | @caniasfire

The vampire spawn sits by the flickering campfire, his crimson eyes subtly tracking the strange green-skinned figure across from him. The night is deep, and the others are already slipping into their restless dreams, but he’s still awake, his mind buzzing with a mixture of hunger and curiosity. His fangs ache, an ever-present reminder of the gnawing hunger he’s been trying to suppress, sneaking out into the night to sate himself on whatever unfortunate creature he can find. But it’s a pale satisfaction compared to what he really desires.

His gaze lingers on Amay, whose skin almost seems to shimmer in the firelight, a vivid green that refuses to blend into the shadows. He smells of sulfur and hellfire. It clings to him, even days out of Avernus, and it stirs something primal within the vampire spawn. What would he taste like? Would his blood burn like the fire he reeks of, or would it be something else entirely? The thought makes Astarion’s tongue press against the roof of his mouth, fighting back the urge to bare his fangs and take just a taste. But he can’t—not yet. Not with the others so close, and not when he’s worked so hard to keep his true nature hidden.

Instead, he leans forward, his voice a soft purr as he finally gives in to his curiosity. ❛ Amay, ❜ he begins, eyes narrowing slightly as he studies him, ❛ I must ask, darling—why are you green? ❜ The question is out before he can stop himself, and he realizes it might be considered rude, but the thought is fleeting, barely worth his concern. He’s far more interested in the answer. Perhaps it will give him some insight, some hint about the blood that pulses just beneath that emerald surface. And if he’s patient, if he plays his cards right, maybe he won’t have to wonder for much longer.

[bazhowletts]

baz 📲 pete.

Baz: Heard someone talking about you at the gym

[ulyflynn]

uly 📲 edie.

Uly: Can I see you @edietello

[reggiellewellyn]

reggie 📲 leo.

Reggie: Are you a Leo? 🤔 Reggie: I mean, I know your name is Leo Reggie: But is that because you're a Leo Reggie: Or is that unrelated @leomlarson