#at one point i retooled emil into a very silly modern demeter and persephone story

[vivanightcity]

it's nearly 1am and i want to talk about some OCs and a world setting/base idea that i've never done too much with but always think i want to.

WIP title was 'there's no such thing as a vampire', as an absolute direct reference to 'there's no such thing as a fish' and it hinged on that same principle. There are demonstrably vampires in the world, same as there are fish. But wtf does 'fish' mean, and wtf does 'vampire' mean?

There's no set definition, no singular concept or easily categorized thing.

so there were vampires like Dima and Emil who didn't need blood, they ate organs, and could be outside during the day but it sucked, who were weak to iron and could be contained by knots like putting tape on a crocodile's jaw. Turned by infection prior to death, then wake up again.

Then there was Niki who was turned after being killed in a specific way and burried intentionally fucked up to ensure she'd be stuck like that. Who was physically dead as fuck and looked it. Waxy and wrong. Who turned into this hulking monstrosity of a creature, and could only reliably be killed by decapitation, cause she made Emil throw a pitchfork through her chest for funsies one night. But her eyes will water and she'll start sneezing when around garlic, and sun brings her up in blisters

And Mallow and Steren. Siblings with deer legs like fauns. No sharp teeth, no fangs or bites. They cut. Strung up like fresh kill to drain. Except. They would argue with you if you called them vampires.

with a bunch more i just do not remember right now, cause Niki and Emil were the main blorbos for me. I miss my little dipshits.

Emil was this 'regency goth' overdramatic artist and garment maker who put on the most 'i want you to know im a vampire' extreme persona trying to be so aloof and in control when like... giggly little idiot.

Niki was a singer song writer, whose entire gimmick, with help from Emil, was all rhinestone, white leather, undead cowgirl. It allowed that suspension of disbelief that otherwise made it really easy to tell she wasn't alive. Lived to make life difficult for others, but was the best friend you'd make when drunk in a club bathroom. Only she'd never leave after that. You'd be stuck with her until she got bored.