#* hastalik anhci.

[arielbeaumont]

a hungry visitor | ariel & hastalik

This was not Ariel's first time in Destarin. He'd passed through now and again in the two centuries he'd been alive; how could he not have? They were practically twins, he and Destarin--both of them born out of the darkness of war, both of them born beautiful and hopeful and shining, both of them changed, tarnished, damaged--

That line of thought cut off abruptly, a muscle in the dhampir's jaw jumping as he tucked it away, into the vault where he kept all such contemplations. It was like touching a live wire to think such things. It served nothing but a child's indulgence to stir up memories of his childhood, what-ifs and might-have-beens. He was not tarnished; he was improved.

The point was, he'd been to Destarin before, but not in many years, and never for long enough to develop any real familiarity. He'd been out and about all afternoon, and there'd been plenty of novelty to keep him entertained. But when the afternoon had begun to turn slowly towards evening, and Ariel grew hungry--well, then he'd been quite pleased to find that one of his memories held true.

A tavern still stood exactly where he'd remembered it to be.

Seated in that tavern now, Ariel absently stirred his tea as he considered The Kyngeshed's offerings. It should not have been such a hard decision, but--well, away from the noise and the crowd of the street, he'd become very aware of the thump, thump, thump of beating hearts inside the tavern, and he could not help but think how much more satisfying it would be to dine on one of their owners.

He only realized his gaze had focused in on a young man's neck when he was caught looking. Ariel's expression immediately shifted, the faraway, hungry expression he'd been wearing smoothly replaced with a self-deprecating smile.

"My apologies. You look like a local," he said, and there was no derision in his tone, only the awareness that Ariel himself did not, still dressed as he was in the current fashions of Withermore's court. "What would you order? Do a hungry visitor a kindness, hm? I simply can't decide."

@hastalikanhci

[wxrricks]

That narrowed it down. Of course Withermore would be a hotspot for others like him. But he had to work to not appear outwardly insulted at the very notion of redcaps being in the same conversation as him.

"I don't have much else to go on," Tennyson confessed. Half true - he knew that he had a past of bloodshed, if that vision from Lilim was worth anything. And he was choosing to believe that it was, or else he would really be in the dark. "Looked just like you and I," he said, a lie hidden in truth. "Humanoid, dark eyes. Black, and yellow." He paused to think. The man before him seemed human, but looks were deceiving. How easy could it be to send the man before him asleep? What nightmares did he have crawling around in the dark of his subconscious? Sending him right to sleep in front of this temple, his clear place of worship, would have been a bold move and while Tennyson would be up to the challenge in normal circumstances, but maybe he'd revisit it once he found more solid footing in the city. Time as helped so far, and hopefully would continue to.

"I've never been much of a religious man, but this..." He waved his hand over the building behind them. "Is actually quite interesting to me, I must admit."

Hastalik could understand that. Not knowing what would change things for you. His mind was constantly trying to determine if he should be accepting his fate, of who he had been born to be and seeking an escape, never knowing what was actually the right path, what would truly help him find his way.

"Many dark fae exist, Withermore especially," he nodded. Evil, so far as his family understood it, existed everywhere but faeries tended to be more common in Withermore. "I would need a stronger description than simply...dark. Redcaps, rusalka, glaistigs, banshees, they fill those woods." Though it may not have been directly obvious to his companion many of these creatures were predominantly female and their darkness could be subjective rather than certain. "Do you know what they appeared like?"

[ohchungae]

the first born son and heir to the oh coven, oh chung ae is a twenty-five year old witch, originating from the cheridi kingdom as a covert emissary for the oh coven.

       𝓬 𝓾 𝓻 𝓻 𝓮 𝓷 𝓽 𝓵 𝔂 ...

upon his arrival in destarin, oh chung ae was set upon by the anhci coven, their two families and covens have been against each other for years. the two young witches engaged in a feud spurred on by their families hatred, and yet feelings have begun to develop that go beyond that hate. in an emotional display brought on by worry after the deaths of messengers following the strawberry moon, hastalik kissed oh chung ae. the young witch heir is now feeling bereft and uncertain about his path and feelings.

​🇵​​🇪​​🇳​​🇳​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇧​​🇾​ ​🇰​​🇮​​🇲​ . . ​🇵​​🇸​​🇹​ . .

       𝓼 𝓽 𝓪 𝓽 𝓼 …

name: oh chung ae age: 25 gender: male pronouns: he/him species: witch face claim: lee jae wook

height: 6'2" hair color: black eye color: dark brown weaknesses: mortal strengths: ritual magic, elemental magic specializing in water and ice, stealth, swordsmanship 

       𝓌 𝒶 𝓃 𝓉 𝑒 𝒹 𝒸 𝑜 𝓃 𝓃 𝑒 𝒸 𝓉 𝒾 𝑜 𝓃 𝓈 ...

betrothed [open] : oh chung ae's family has arranged a marriage between himself and another prestigious witch family from withermore, this is meant to strengthen the bonds between the two influential families and increase the reach the oh coven has. he has agreed to the match only to please his family and has no feelings toward you at all.

[crownofconvergencerp]

Prior to open please make sure you are following...

Bellamy Chevalier - @bellamychevalier Calen Draakrytter - @ofcalendraakrytter Cleodora - @justcleodora Hastalik Anhci - @hastalikanhci Maeve Medeina - @maevemedeina Merrymock - @merrymockthejester Notelaih Saldores - @djinnoffire Oh Chung Ae - @ohchungae Rosalie Hazelton - @rosaliexhazelwood Shadden Danner - @ofcaptaindanner Tajhana Saha - @tajhanasaha Taurus Volkov - @taurusvolkov

We are still waiting on a few account, please make sure they are submitted prior to open at 8:30 pm EST this evening.

[hastalikanhci]

Hunting || Tig&Hastalik

The print of Hastalik's finger ran over the text, a mix of some Cheridan language and something obscure, so any outside the coven would have a more challenging time reading what was one of the accounts of hunting. This specific one detailed the hunting of a slaugh beast. According to the text it was a particularly vile monster, known for how bloodthirsty it could be, even when compared to other sorts of monsters that dined on blood. There had been some of the mentioned signs in the woods around Destarin and Hastalik's Uncle had decided to allow him a reprieve from his work with the Oh witch, Oh Chung Ae.

It did not mean Hastalik was particularly inclined to the act. His eyes scanning the paper within the bound work for any indication there was some redeemable quality to the beast. Instead it indicated that all Slaugh descended from pure evil, which is where the text seemed to go somewhat awry in comparison to regular folklore as much of the Anhci covens beliefs of 'true evil' was unique to them.

With a sharp close to the book Hastalik was reminded of where he was. Stood over some animal carcass, decaying within the woods, the sight of it a mix of vibrant red and subdued browns. He could not even tell what animal it was, the body so mutilated. He couldn't even be totally sure it was the work of the slaugh but he exhaled slowly, hoping there might be signs close by that would indicate whether it had been a mere animal or a true monster that had performed this horrific act. His steps slow, analysing the area with dark eyes. They were all that could be seen as the rest of his face was covered by a soft black linen mask that matched the rest of his draped attire.

One quiet step around the animal's body however and he heard the snapping of twigs and his gaze flicked in the direction of the sound.

@fledgendinthemaking

[hastalikanhci]

Hastalik looked up from his drink. He hadn't actually had any of it. Mostly the witch ordered beer to seem like he was the same as everyone else but he did not like to compromise his mind. The weaker it was, the easier it was for his Uncle to get inside it and make changes. Not that he could stop them really, but, at least sober, he could know that things had been changed, remember that things had maybe been different at some point than the way he recalled them.

"Oh," Hastalik let out as he slowly began to recall the man's face. He'd been injured when they met and Hastalik had walked him to a witch he was not sure he rightly should have. The way the...well, he was sure he'd called himself something that was not a man - The way the being had described the witch had not seemed like a good place for Hastalik to take him.

Pushing the drink away from himself, unconcerned with the festivities around them he nodded. The Anhci coven celebrated the month privately, as was their way, and Hastalik was forbade from enjoying the festivities of others even if he wished he could...so he might see his mother.

"I'm glad you made it the rest of the way safely yourself," he acknowledged. "Your witch was...nice to you? She didn't make you do anything did she?" Hastalik asked.

@hastalikanhci

Yazi understood that this was some kind of holiday period, there were a lot of things happening that he didn’t completely understand - people in masks… kind of scary. Walking around Destarin, or walking home, he saw things that suggested some kind of collective activities. Also it was a lot, and he kept on forgetting half of it, even if people at the bar liked to tell him all about it. Technically he was from Withermore, but he wasn’t a regular citizen, at least not that he thought he was. 

His head was spinning with information about bonfires and hiding from ghosts, when he got back from his break for the after lunch-slump. The bar was quiet, though not empty. He saw Hastalik and moved his glass-cleaning duty to that part of the bar. “Hi, I came home alright that day you helped me.” Had to be said.

[hastalikanhci]

the witch hastalik anhci

[crownofconvergencerp]

Thoughts on Madeleine Petsch? If she’d be wanted / and if so, where she could potentially fit?

I love Madelaine Petsch! She is amazing. I know she is one of the FCs I pictured in my mind for the WC I had for my character Hastalik Anhci, but I could also see her as a Tiefling for sure with her amazing red hair, or perhaps a dryad, maybe a nymph of some kind!

[crownofconvergencerp]

Hastalik Anhci has added a wanted connection...

CHARACTER FOR: Hastalik Anhci TYPE OF CONNECTION: Old Friend SUGGESTIONS: Visual age preference between 20-35, vampire, and she has red hair so any redhaired actress in the correct age range works! DESCRIPTION: When Hastalik came of age he was sent to Withermore to hunt down a vampire, however when he found her she was starved and hiding, he couldn't kill her and instead fed her and let her go. His family made him believe they had hunted her down and killed her but it was just a false vision they placed in his mind, for whatever reasons are her own she arrived in Destarin and he is able to find relief in knowing she's alive. Do they need to reach out to you? No, but you can if you would like!

[crownofconvergencerp]

𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐂𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐂𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

thirty-two years old, hastalik anhci is a witch and heir to the anhci coven, he hunts vampires and other dark beings. he has lived in destarin his whole life, however his coven originates from withermore.

TW: child abuse mention, murder mention, death mention, child birth death mention, physical abuse mention.

Born under a blood moon, Hastalik's birth was a blessing to all but his mother. As all women who bore the children of the Anhci Coven came to realise, they were not long for the world after an heir of note was born. She had tried to hold her determined son inside, so he would not have some magic about him that the coven could claim held some sign of future strength but it was not to be. His mother was killed moments after his birth and Hastalik was left to be raised by men who saw the world in a very disturbed version of black and white.

This was especially true regarding Hastalik's Uncle, who was, in fact, only a few years older than himself. The older witch had killed his mother in birth, something the coven had taken as a sign that he would be the future leader of the coven, until Hastalik's own birth had seemed a larger sign of destiny. They were rivals, even if Hastalik did not quite understand why. Through the mental and physical training he was subjected to his Uncle always found a way to make things harder for the young witch, especially when Hastalik questioned the purpose of their training.

The Anhci Coven had one goal, to rid the world of dark monsters. Vampires, werewolves, devils, and more, and they would kill anyone in their way. Their own brand of magic was focused on mental manipulation and torture, and to learn it one had to suffer it. Hastalik's mind was constantly plagued with visions inflicted onto him by his Uncle, by the older members of the coven. All the younger members of the coven had to endure this, and if resisted the mental was worn down by physical violence.

When Hastalik reached adulthood it was time that he be tested, to see if his birth truly had been a sign. Hastalik and his Uncle were each given a task and upon completion the coven would come to a decision on who had exhibited qualities that best reflected the ideals of the coven. Hastalik was given his first mission. To kill a vampire in the deep woods of Withermore, he had been warned that all manor of evil creatures lived within and he prepared himself for this. Though he had questioned his own suffering and that of the other boys in the coven he had never questioned who they were intending on hunting down. A vampire was a monster, an evil creature of the night that hunted children and killed without thought or care in violent and horrific ways. He did not flinch when given the task.

What did cause the young witch to falter however was finding the young vampire hidden in a bear cave, slender and starved, her long vibrant red hair surrounding her warm toned face. She did not look like the stories and as she begged for her life she did not sound like them either. He had been trained against manipulation but he had only seen this kind of suffering on the faces of people in the town, starved and hungry, he had fed them - deeds done by the coven to seem kind and well meaning. So Hastalik did what they had done, he fed her, the vampire drinking his blood until fullness returned to her cheeks and her body, her eyes lighting up the moment she was sated. He could not kill her. Instead he told her to run. To go as far South as she could and avoid any who bore the crest he had on his ring.

Upon Hastalik's return there was no need for the coven to consider who had fulfilled their duties. His Uncle had succeeded, returning covered in the blood of some creature...or perhaps person...he had been tasked with killing. The blood was used to bless the coven. As Hastalik had not only failed but failed with such questionable actions he was thrown beneath the estate and subjected to mental attacks from all in the coven. He will never know how long he was down there. He only remembers what questioning the coven wrought upon him. A tormented mind and the head of the vampire girl, gifted to him as a reminder that no action he will ever take will prevent the coven from it's purse. So he had best fall in line.

WHAT ARE YOU...?

species: anhci witch weaknesses: hastalik is a mortal and therefore susceptible to a mortal lifespan and mortal ailments and affinities included regular hearing, sight, etc. strengths: ritual casting mental attacks, stealth and fighter training. physical descriptors: mortal appearance. additional notes: the anhci family has been hunting vampires since before the forty year war and so know how to spot vampires with relative accuracy, as well as having detailed information about specific ones they are actively hunting. other dark beings they consider worthy of hunting are more obscure.

hastalik anhci is played by paris and his fc is mena massoud

[hastalikanhci]

Has was not meant to discuss it at all, telling Shadden was a betrayal to his coven, and yet not telling him would have been a betrayal to their friendship. That was what typically caught Hastalik up, a loyalty beaten into him for his coven and an innate loyalty to who he wished he could be - a friend, a lover, a hero. So when Shadden pointed out his vagueness he looked to his beer once more, isolating his gaze on the bubbles within.

"I shouldn't ask for your help," he insisted, thankful Shadden had never had to meet his Uncle who was typically warded up in the temple for protection as their Khemnetcher - coven leader. Not knowing his Uncle however meant he did not fear him in the same way Hastalik did, and felt other's should. Was it taking advantage of Shadden's friendship to accept his help?

"It's kind of a long story as to who," Hastalik admitted, but as the pirate was quite used to telling grand stories of his own Has figured he would not mind one in turn. "A witch family from Cheridi married into ours not long after the war, the Oh family," Hastalik explained, his perception of events entirely biased and based on scary stories the Anhci coven would tell to children of the evil's of women. "They had a daughter they married to one of our witches, and the pair of them had a son. When their son was born she revealed her true form, a monstrous hag who had decieved the coven to gain access to our magic for their own, she refused to allow the coven to raise him and stole him away to some hidden place in Cheridi. The coven went to find him, to fight to get him back, but the Oh coven protected their Hag and have held the boy as captive since. Eventually we conceded the child but the coven still thinks they have him, or that he may have made another heir that is meant to be with us."

Hastalik exhaled, the story one of many that painted women, specifically mother's in a rather appalling light. Hastalik simply fortunate they had never told any regarding his own mother as he knew it might have broken him to imagine her as anything other than loving, despite her death at his birth.

"One of the Oh witches, with the bicentennial coming up, has come to town. The coven wishes for me to either get close to him to find out where they have been hiding our lineage, or to torture it out of him. I am hoping getting close to him will be the easiest option but -" But Hastalik failed at this because he could not manipulate as he had been trained to do, he always ended up caring. "I think torture could be the route that gives the coven the results they expect." His teeth ground together, looking up to Shadden, expecting judgement for his weakness.

Shadden never thought twice about it; he didn't like the idea of that kind of attachment or maybe it was he hadn't found a connection he felt committed to. His heart for now belonged the ocean and his feelings came in and out likes the tides. People liked to believe what they wanted and he let them, even when it came to someone like Hastalik who he actually would consider a friend for whatever that was worth.

Shadden had grown up in a very different world then what the stories told; he was use to playing a part and watching people, trying to figure out their motives. His simple enough question had struck a nerve with the other and wondered what it was that seemed to plague the other's thoughts. The friendship they had allowed for that amount of trust, Shadden wasn't a gossip and secrets were safe with him as he too had his own. The mention of any of the family from which other came from seemed to never sit well and the explanation seemed so mysterious and vague. Someone....something...all the more intriguing.

The admission seemed to be one that the other didn't want to focus on. Shadden could be a dog with a bone. "So, what I'm gathering between the lines of your rather vague and ominous translation of that was you saying, 'Shadden, I really, really need your help'." Maybe it's not that Hastelik meant but his friend had put it out there.

"So," he shrugged waiting for the other to give him more detail. "I need a who, a what, and a better explanation of everything you just told me."

[wxrricks]

Admittedly, that didn't do much for him either. He had hoped that if there was something general, something that wasn't specific to him, he could pass through unnoticed, without issue. His glamor was raised over his eyes, looking a handsome hazel instead of their typically harsh yellow and black. "Mental..." he trailed off, the last syllable raising ever so slightly, to possibly be mistaken as as question. Mental magic, now that felt familiar.

Tennyson shook his head, but a nugget of an idea popped into the back of his mind. He wondered... with what little information he himself had - and with how good of a liar he was - could this man fill in any blanks? As soon as the idea popped into his head, though, it fizzled. How would he ever begin? Hi, there's a group of people, or creatures, that might be magical in nature, but I have no idea, because I have no memories and there's no way it's not magical, except what could have caused it might not even be another being at all? The other would probably kindly send him on his way and tell everyone to stay away from Tennyson.

The question broke him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head. "I don't know what I need," he muttered, before he could help himself. Besides, he himself was likely that 'evil' this man and his father seemed to want to be rid of, if his internal monologues were any indication. "Have you ever heard of any dark fae from Withermore? In the forests, maybe? I thought I saw something, once. But I can't remember." Maybe something this man could offer would jog his memory.

"We are witches who worship Aziris," Hastalik answered. In truth the Anhci temple was the only one of it's kind as there were no other Aziris worshippers, because, well, Aziris was no true deity or even entity, it was a concept created centuries before the war to control the Ahnci coven. As many deities could be unknown, could exist far outside the realms of ever crossing paths with those who worshipped them there was little resistance when war did come and the Ahnci coven had become useful to the courts for the world to simply acknowledge their existence. Aziris was real because the coven said so, but if one truly could feel certain ways about religious locations there was definitely something...off to the idea of them, and no doubt Aziris was not a name heard regularly outside Destarin, only those who knew of the coven's participation in the war may have.

"Our magic is mental, designed to help bring down evil," he further explained, a nothing that perhaps felt far more threatening because evil was quite subjective and the coven did target dark beings. Vampires, horrors, demons, werewolves, anything they believed was preventing the world from being good, and had some dark literature that explained their belief structure, including why the coven only had male witches.

"We don't typically provide our services unless we feel the actions lead us to Aziris' goals," Hastalik expressed so the man did not think they were simply for hire. "But if you have good cause to think you might know something evil that needs dealt with my...my Uncle looks into things," he continued, only then seeming like his principles didn't quite align with his words. For all the teachings he'd been exposed to Hastalik truly was unsure what he believed anymore, certainly he never wanted to hurt someone whose intentions were good, no matter how dark they were meant to be.

"Is that what you needed?"

[arielbeaumont]

Ariel didn't bother to hide his interest as the younger man seemed to shed a layer of his garment. Let him appear lascivious and lustful--he frequently was lascivious and lustful, and who could blame him, anyway, when the man was practically unwrapping himself like a present? Certainly, there was some amount of aesthetic appreciation in his interest.

But that was not his only interest. It was curiosity more than anything that lit a spark in Ariel's eye as his gaze flicked from wicked blades to tattooed skin, taking in the characters inked there. They were not a language Ariel knew; he'd have thought them abstract if not for the hints of the familiar he could pick out here and there. They were beautiful, in their way. Ariel wanted to commit them to memory, to recreate them on parchment and study them--but that would have required an unsettling amount of staring, and he'd only just got his companion to sit down.

Curious eyes lifted at the question, Ariel's grin stretching into something just a little bit wicked. It was so tempting to tease, to press, to see if there was more of that almost-flirtation under the cool surface, and Ariel did not often resist temptation--besides, if he could get this man into bed, he'd certainly get a better look at those curious tattoos, wouldn't he?

He only managed a conspiratorial, "Did you want it to be?" before the arrival of the waiter stopped him. He understood every word of the order, of course, but there was no trace of that understanding on his face, only that same wicked grin, tongue running idly over his own teeth.

"You have my gratitude for your assistance," he said when the waiter had departed. "I've heard much about the lawless, boorish manners of Destarin, and yet I am made so very welcome. Ah--and yet here I am, forgetting my own manners! How uncivilized you must think me."

A hand was offered across the table, gold rings and gems glinting on three of his fingers. "Ariel Beaumont, Emissary to the Crown of Withermore."

An invitation, Hastalik observing the cleanliness of the man's shoes. Many who lived within the town had near permanent stains on their shoes and at the bottom of their garments from wandering about the various dirty districts. This man's attire showed no signs of wear and tear, so he was either wealthy enough to avoid them or new enough to have been unaffected yet. He considered both, especially as both could be true at once.

Hastalik considered Oh Chung Ae within the offer, he was meant to be following him, reminding the witch that his efforts within the town were always being watched, but as he took a cautionary glance around the establishment Chae was not there. So the witch grabbed at the layer of fabric, no longer black from the bleaching of the sun, wrapped over his shoulders and removed it. More cloth beneath but this time shaped, wrapped around his torso and tucked into the layered belt of fabric around his hips and waist. It was clear all parts of what he were were simply the same sheet of fabric styled differently.

"I can offer some assistance for the evening," he agreed, blades by his sides now exposed as were his hands, both covered in runes. The blades themselves were engraved, while his cinnamon skin was inked with markings, not a language of Cheridi, something specific to the coven itself but based on one of the languages from the center kingdom. Some runes were likely able to be guessed but they would be educated guesses rather than facts. The most prominent one seemed to wrap around his wrist, imitating what could have been read as 'necrosis' but mixed with another word 'truth' or 'pure.' Certainly bastardised by any means.

Hand on the table, aware he could not hide the markings but assuming they could not be read, he ran his index finger along the soft wood. "Company could be good for the evening," he acknowledged, even if it felt dangerous. This was what he was meant to do. Without needing 'missions' or 'tasks' from the coven. He was meant to charm dark things, lure them somewhere, and destroy them mentally and physically. He didn't like the thought, for a moment looking away in the direction of the kitchen, giving himself excuses that it was too busy in here to lure someone anywhere, people would notice and besides he didn't know how important this evidently rich man was.

The gaze flicked back at the promise to not bite, warm brown eyes not believing it for a moment. Index finger making a small circle on the wood as he observed the brilliant blue in the blonde's eyes.

"Was that an option?"

He didn't mean for it to sound like he was flirting, it was meant to sound strong, threatening perhaps, but as Hastalik was not strong in his intentions it did not come out as such. It came out like a need, a desperation. He wished he could swallow the words back up and try again.

Fortunately, perhaps, the waiter appeared, dark hair slicked back as he gave a nod to both Ariel and Hastalik, lower to Ariel than to the witch who he knew. Requesting both of their orders, Hastalik leaning up and placing the order entirely in the language of the waiter. Not to show off, but simply because it was how he typically ordered, and it seemed like another language might clear up the tone on his tongue he had previously been victim to. He ordered exactly what he had suggested to Ariel for them and then for himself too.

[wxrricks]

"Coven?" Of vampires? What sort of coven would be in the city? That was something he'd expect maybe in the wilderness, somewhere deep where no one could readily stumble across them - goes to show how much he knew.

It wasn't the first temple he'd seen around the city, but there was no god Tennyson could think to call to. Not in this state, at least. Did he worship some higher power before? He didn't think so. The feeling he got being around them gave him a sense that he didn't belong in there... but that itself felt like a challenge.

"Haven't heard of them," he said, looking back up at the towering temple, around the surrounding area. Did the sky just suddenly get cloudy overtop of them, or was it like that before he stepped through the gates? "No worship, but what kind of witches?" Ones who had knowledge in magical ailments, perhaps? Worth a try.

Hastalik did not notice any sort of glamour being raised, so focused on his most recent scolding and the sudden collision. It was rare anyone approached the temple, usually it was only newer residents that were inspecting the town, trying to learn of it, but most who were accustomed avoided them. They were strange and unsettling, not half as welcoming as anywhere else in town, so Hastalik immediately made the assumption they were a new arrival.

"It's a coven temple," he answered, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, determined not to show his emotions so obviously in front of a stranger. If he spoke enough, if he focused on a new line of thought then he could hold back the emotions that pressed so intensely against his chest.

Letting his hand fall, inhaling to refocus himself, he finally actually took a look at the person before him, their ears slightly pointed and their pallid skin an obvious contrast to Hastalik's own in it's light brown. "The Ahnci coven's temple," he explained further, allowing his mind to drift to these thoughts. "We are a local coven, but exclusive," he explained, a slight warning that strangers were not easily welcomed. "Were you seeking a place of worship or witches?"

[arielbeaumont]

Ariel watched the younger man's reaction to him curiously, taking in the tensing of muscles, the straightening of the spine. It was the eyes, he suspected. At over two hundred years old, Ariel had long grown used to the reactions the brilliant, unnatural blue could inspire. This reaction, skillfully controlled and covered, was much more interesting than most.

"I do," Ariel said, and there was a certain twinkle of mischief in his eye as he spoke. "Like spice, I mean. I do. That all sounds simply lovely." With his chin propped up on one fist, he considered the younger man a moment before he stretched out one leg and pushed out the chair across from him with the toe of one polished boot.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me?" he asked, gesturing at the chair with one hand and offering his most affable, self-deprecating smile. "I'm quite certain I'll bungle the ordering of absolutely everything you just said." He wouldn't. Ariel was raised up on the Cheridi border, spent years traveling the continent with a band of vampire hunters of every nationality, and spoke several languages. He wouldn't bungle the ordering if he did it himself--but then, if he did it himself, what excuse would he have for keeping this man's attention and satisfying his own curiosity?

"Please," he added, and then, eyes glimmering with a spark of mischief he could not entirely repress, "I won't bite."

Hastalik had, in his exhaustion, pulled down the cloth fabric that typically covered half of his face as he moved about the town. He'd been pulling it down more lately, as frustrated by the notion of hiding himself in a town he had grown up in as he was by the various other rules the coven sought to throw down upon it's members. His excess of freedom from the temple's walls - to complete his mission soley - was perhaps letting his mind think too much on things he was not meant to.

Certainly he was not expecting anyone to even notice him with his mask down, eyes lifting when someone seemed to address him. His dark brown eyes surrounded by darker lashes observing who had spoken and not recognising them.

Older. Handsome. Suspicious.

He almost reached for the blade at his side, out of instinct, fingers tapping the table to hid the fact the muscles in his wrist and arm had tensed for a moment and yet, on close enough inspection he knew it had not been hidden. To determine vampire from dhampir or even similar species of undead or monster was rarely easy, especially as many within each species could differ from one another. Eyes, well, eyes however, always tended to be a bit of a give away to a darkness within, like their odd colouring and brightness was similar to a brightly coloured spiders markings. It was a warning sign that they were a predator, not prey.

Hastalik straightened his spine, but it was not nerves, rather a thought that caused it, seeking out the rune at the back of his skull that would allow him to ward his mind from being taken in by some being with any sort of ability to mentally manipulate, one of his stronger wards, as that was his covens speciality. Still he would need to speak to activate the rune, and it would give him away...

"What would I order?" he asked, attempting to seek the charm his coven had trained him in, and yet so readily could never find in the presence of...well, handsome men it seemed. Ultimately he felt a need to attempt his training however, hopeful there would be no attempt at hallucination, and if there was perhaps the barriers he had built from the constant mental attacks he had endured from his coven as a child would be enough to keep him of his own mind long enough to activate his rune... "I like to order their house brewed soju, they have a nice grapefruit one, then they have warm bowls of dakgaejang, it's spicy but if you like...spice," Hastalik smirked, hoping to hide the distain he was meant to have for whatever dark being this was behind his training, even if he felt a guilt at his core for thinking the repeated notions of his Uncle and Father.

Dark beings needed to be wiped from this Earth, regardless of how good natured they purported themselves to be.

"Personally I am a fan of spice," he insisted, trying to push away both his guilt and the thought itself, and focus on the moment. Maybe...like the vampire in the woods, this man was...good?

[wxrricks]

There was some sort of rebellious streak in him that he was beginning to realize, but come no closer to understanding.

It kept happening particularly when he found somewhere that had the immense potential to put himself in danger. Tennyson knew full well he was in no state to be pushing himself, or the limits beyond what he could do. A lot was still... blurry, and only being fully realized out of instinct.

Regardless, there was a draw to it all. A sixth sense that led him to the front of a graveyard - a lonely place, even drearier by the poor weather they awoke to in the morning. Not that Tennyson had complaints. He preferred the gloomier days, where it was far less bright and he was able to see properly, and behave and blend in like regular folk. But there was something about this particular cemetery that piqued his interest. Why did it stir this feeling in him, something proud, that he was standing on the stones before it. He had half a mind to enter through the gates himself before colliding with another man.

Habit had the glamor return to his eyes, before he took a step back from the man with a shake of his head. "It's no problem..." he trailed off, brows furrowing and head tilting in confusion at the ink on his fingertips. There was that gnawing sense of danger he seemed to enjoy so much. "What is that building?" he asked, jerking his chin to the temple.

Temple Tantrum || Tennyson&Hastalik

Hastalik's heavy steps were hard on the worn stone of the temple's entrance, the stairs he descended so old that the center of them was lower than the sides, worn down by everyone's steps and the various weather that affected all of the town. Hastalik had become used to the worn temple, used to the way it didn't fit within the town, same as he didn't fit within the walls of the temple.

Continuing through the graveyard that made up the front of the temple - so many graves some actually seemed to be on top of one another - Hastalik rushed for the tall iron gates, far newer than any other element of the temple. As much as they had been designed to keep out those who would question the motives of their coven, they felt to Hastalik as though they were designed to keep him in. An aspect of the argument he'd had with his Uncle. The freedoms they were gifting him to leave the coven's groups were being wasted, he needed to work harder on the mission they had given him and he did not want to hear any of it.

Stepping through the gates, eyes shut as he attempted to hold back tears, the witch draped in dark cloth walked directly into someone, so hard his chest nearly bounced back and away from them. "I'm so sorry," Hastalik uttered, reaching for the mask that covered his face and drawing it down. The evidence he was from the temple obvious not only from his garments but from the ink that stained his hands, markings of spells.

@wxrricks