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@bloodyglcry
#BLOODYGLCRY: a dependent multimuse blog for boneyardfm. Penned by Alyx (she/her. 27. EST). Featuring
i. PETRA WEISS, right hand of the outsiders ii. JADE MOLINA, member of the cactus cats iii. LILIAS TSUKASA, researcher for the boo crew iv. WREN KANG, vampire slayer in training v. CLAUDIA CRANE, political liaison for the weiss family vi. IVAN BURKE, surgeon and independent researcher vii. REID CALLOWAY, heist leader
truthfully, diego didn’t know exactly why he joined the boo crew. he hadn’t been interested in the paranormal as a child, instead choosing to focus more on architecture and acting, but once he got to vegas, he was alone, and he needed to find something to occupy his time while lying low. he had always been an outgoing kid. he was the one who would go up to other kids on the playground saying “hi! i’m diego! do you want to be friends?” he had quite a bit of energy which was normally used up by being on sets, and now, he needed something to occupy his time. which led to him becoming a part of a paranormal investigating team… naturally.
much like lilias, he found research interesting. he remembers countless days curled up in a director's chair between shoots, a book about architecture in his hand. there were days when he would sneak off to the library, and just absorb everything he could. so, sitting in the library, searching for another case? that was light work, and who else to do it with than one of their newest members?
“hm?” he mumbles, looking up from a book. “sounds promising! let me check it out.” he gingerly takes the newspaper from their hands, and looks it over. “this is awesome! graveyard things are always interesting. if we get it looked at by the higher-ups, maybe we could convince them to look into it. and maybe you could even tag along!”
LILIAS ADMIRED THE WAY THE INVESTIGATORS WALKED INTO DANGEROUS SITUATIONS WITHOUT FEAR. They were drawn to the group because of the way they demonstrated themselves on their adventures, and it was amazing to be able to help out behind the scenes. Lilias didn't think they'd have enough courage to wander into half the haunted spots the gang went to. They were much more comfortable behind the scenes, simply researching and pointing out potential destinations for the team.
And perhaps that's why they didn't expect Diego's reaction to their discovery. The thought of trailing after the team at the graveyard was scary, but they knew it would bring them one step closer to becoming friends with the team---the whole main reason why they offered themself as the team's researcher in the first place. Still, it didn't mean they wouldn't voice their hesitations.
"M--Me? Tag along?" Their face flushed red at the thought, hand reaching out to play with the ends of their hair out of nervousness. They bit their lip before continuing, "I don't know... I'd probably slow everyone down. You all have so much practice with these places."
CLOSED STARTER for @bloodyglcry ft. Petra Weiss
random bar
Benny thought power was everything, after a life of feeling powerless, being turned into a Vampire had felt like being suffocated. His sire - long gone now - hadn't really given him a good idea of being a Vampire. And after betraying her and her two lackeys to some hunters, and being let go - to his great surprise - Benny had tried to stay away from any group that was all-Vampire. Hadn't worked out that long, after joining the Cats, but he'd rectified that and joined the Weiss family instead.
With the dream of climbing up the ranks and securing a spot for himself that would ensure solid income.
That dream was easily swayed.
"You have a familiar face," Benny said, as he regarded the stranger opposite of him. He knew she was a Vampire, but he wasn't sure if she wanted something, something else, or something something. He'd settle for anything really.
PETRA WAS ALWAYS ON THE HUNT FOR POTENTIAL RECRUITS. Even though the Visitors had recruiters in their ranks, Petra liked to keep an eye out for her own picks. It wasn't that she didn't trust the recruiters to do their jobs, but she believed she had a good eye when it came to vampires that fit the Visitor's mold.
BENNY was one such vampire. She mainly wanted to poach him because he's affiliated with the Weiss family and she loves to steal their ranks, but also, he had a certain chaos to him that she liked. She felt like he could be swayed with the right offer, and she knew the words that would make most people fall to their knees. Call it a gift, but she could be very persuasive when she wanted to.
"I get that a lot." She hummed, avoiding the question that lingered under the comment: Who are you? She wanted to see if he could guess it on his own. If not, maybe he wasn't as smart as she expected. She tilted her head and asked, "What are we drinking?"
Wolf felt his shoulders wilt long before he realized why as Claudia entered. There was something so commanding about her that his brain literally couldn't process; instead, his form shrunk in instinctive deference. "Councilmember Crane," he said, a slight break in his voice immediately evident. His eyes deferred down and away, falling on the computer in front of him. "Oh - uh. Yeah. Yes. Sorry. Of course." He wheeled to the keyboard and started hammering at the keys. Unfortunately, he had forgotten which piece of punctuation currently sat at the end of his password, and each attempt pulled a nervous chuckle out of his mouth.
He hazarded a glance up at the woman and immediately regretted it; the face of perfect composure belied something beneath, even if Wolf couldn't put his finger on it. He poked out another attempt (this time, an ampersand) and the computer mercifully let him in - and sure enough, there were the forms, ready to print. He hastily hit the button, and as the printer whirred to life behind him, Wolf finally found his strength.
"Nice outside, huh?" He offered. He winced internally at the lame attempt at small talk, but it was all he could muster at the moment. His eyes glanced sideways at the sticky note on his desk where he had been scribbling the points. Trying to remain inconspicuous, he edged a spare file folder over in an attempt to cover it.
CLAUDIA WAS USED TO FEELING LIKE THE SMARTEST ONE IN THE ROOM. She grew up being overlooked despite being just as competent as Aurelius, and while that would shake most people's confidence, it only inflated hers. She knew she was better and more worthy of the title of heir, but her role as the secondborn had her passed over. That ego only carried over as she aged. She saw the others on the council not as her peers, but as pests waiting for her to slip up. It's why she couldn't arrive at the pending meeting late or without the agenda--- any sign of weakness would be exploited.
But Wolfgang made that difficult. His incompetence was going to reflect on her, and she hated that she might be punished for something that was out of her control. She watched him struggle to pull up the document (had this fool ever used a computer before?), and her shoulders only relaxed slightly at the sound of the printer. Still, it was a race against the clock, and she wouldn't be satisfied until she had the papers in her hands.
Her train of thought stopped the moment her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the notification, her eyes rolling at the news. "It's your lucky day, Dimarco." She spoke, light eyes glancing up to meet the nervous man before her. "The meeting was pushed to tomorrow. Apparently, one of the councilmembers got food poisoning." Her eyebrows lifted as she asked, "That wasn't your doing, was it?"
Janella believed she had a thing for voices, for music. She could recognise so many songs she'd danced to, so many people she'd received praise from, that their names were on her lips by just the sound of them saying hers.
This one made her look up so rapidly she almost lost her balance - almost, she was a trained dancer after all. Her neutral glow turned to outrage, back to control with a hint of a stare that could kill. She considered using her handbag as a club, but instead righted her back and acknowledged Sebastian with a snort. Then she looked around herself, trying to find some hint of whatever chaos he'd left behind. There was sure to be some. "Sebastian," she said in return, her voice laced with venom. "Of all the cities in this country you could've picked..."
THE DOWNSIDE TO BEING A PROFESSIONAL GRIFTER IS THE EASE AT WHICH REID COLLECTS ENEMIES. He's burned more bridges than he can count, and though he sheds identities like a snake sheds skin, the grudges against him continue to remain. He had been lucky enough to avoid most of his enemies after feeling from their initial location, but Janella was always more of a thorn in his side than some of his other targets.
"You just missed me too much to stay away, huh?" He said with that classic, charming smile of his. He knew teasing and flattery wouldn't get him out of this situation, but it was a hard habit to break. After all, he made a living easing people's worries with a few calming words and a flash of his smile. "It's a big enough city, Janella. Surely we can get along and remain civil."
dominique had been wandering about, like usual, and found herself approaching the underworld. she'd never been inside before, surprisingly enough, but she clearly wanted to know more about the place. something about it just… called to her, in a way. so she ventures closer and closer, only to suddenly be grabbed by the wrist and pulled into a nearby alleyway.
she almost goes to scream, to alert others around her, when she looks up and spots a familiar face.
the man who didn't kill her, when he most definitely could have.
for a moment, she simply looks at him with wide eyes… before they ultimately narrow suspiciously. “me? what are you doing here?” she counters, taking her arm back and crossing them over her chest. “came to finish what you started? it won't be so easy this time…” she knows how to defend herself much better now.
IF HE HADN'T TOUCHED HER, WREN WOULD'VE THOUGHT THIS REUNION WAS A DREAM. The moment had played in his mind more times than he'd like to admit, yet somehow, he found it hard to speak. What exactly was he doing? Trying to finish the job he started the night he was meant to end her life? Or reminding himself why he let her go in the first place? He didn't know, and yet, he couldn't move away.
He didn't know how to answer her question. What was he doing there? He told himself that he'd just scope out the Underworld and see the attendees in case any suspicious characters were among the partygoers, but he didn't want to admit that. It not only made him sound like a creep, but it also showed that he knew the club was a hotspot for vampires. Intel like that was crucial for their organization--- and he'd hate to see one of the known vampire spots close because of him.
"...I wanted to..." He muttered the words under his breath, knowing only she was close enough to hear the confession, "...dance." He didn't know why that was the first idea that came to mind, especially when he had the grace of a baby deer. Still, he was forced to go along with the idea even if he would rather run back home. "You're not the only one who likes having fun."
CLOSED STARTER FOR @exinmortui + @bloodyglcry , AURELIUS + CLAUDIA + MAXIM. aurelius’s condo, february.
Max is under no impression that this evening would go any way other than bad. Crane dinners were already notorious for being cold and fucking fake, Max can distinctly remember the tables growing up, family dinners were never loud. Never warm like you see in movies, no overlapping voices, no laughter spilling over plates. Long tables and expensive food going cold, Marcus Crane at the head if he was there at all, eyes always somewhere else, mind already three meetings ahead. Aurelius and Claudia had eventually grown up and out, lives pulling them away - in Claudia’s case, into enemy territory, and Max had been the only one left. Too young to escape, too old to be fussed over, not that he’d ever been particularly fussed over to begin with. Sitting across from an empty chair more often than not, pushing food around his plate while their father took calls between bites or didn’t show at all. Silence so thick it felt intentional, affection always rationed and he’d missed the window. He learned how to fill in later, had started to just ditch altogether when he realized he could, filling up with noise and people and charm, but back then it had just been cold and lonely in a way that settled into his bones.
The condo now feels like a grown-up version of that same quiet, it’s tradition, Aurelius had proclaimed, and Max had to think of whether or not they remembered sitting at the same table growing up.
Max lets himself in without a knock or announcement, just the quiet click of the lock and the soft thud of the door closing behind him. Aurelius’ condo is immaculate in that deliberate way, everything curated to look effortless. It makes Max’s mouth twist. The Crane family has always been very good at that: immaculate surfaces, rot carefully kept out of sight. “Before she shows up, I wanna make it clear that I knew this was gonna be a shit show from the start.” Spoken indifferently, he sidles up to the island and tosses his coat over the back of the stool, sunglasses placed onto the counter. “You know, just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you actually have to start acting like dad.”
Nosy, Max peers over to see whatever he’s got on the stove, reaches to pluck a small piece and thief it for himself, into his mouth and chews. He raised a brow at his brother, sitting in the stool. “She’s gonna try to get information out of us, you know. This is gonna be a fucking minefield.” Not to mention he still had a bone to pick with him regarding a particular radio station.
By the time Maxim Crane is born, the performance of fatherhood was long abandoned by the Crane patriarch. It's what makes Max's birth well into Aurelius's teenage years all the more surprising, to the point that rumors of Aurelius Crane secretly being a teenage father began circling, for that suggestion become far more believable than the truth. Perhaps Marcus Crane consulted a psychic or somehow divined his eventual need for a new spare, with future Claudia being slated to fuck off to the side of the enemy, and all. Once again, the reality of it all was far less exciting. For Marcus had been your typical egotistical patriarch who's interest in his children never ventured beyond the level of investment that an employer has in their employee.
The last proper Crane family dinner must've occurred when Aurelius was still in his 20s— right around the time his own life began unraveling— for he nearly succumbs under the pressure of being heir permanently. Part of him wished the desire for his wellbeing is what propelled him back into action, but the real truth of the matter is: Aurelius looked death in the face and saw only legacy of failure. That is what leads to him fully stepping into his role. He continued playing the role of the dutiful son, patiently awaiting the keys to the empire he invested the entirety of his being in. The place he sacrificed any semblance of a marriage, life, and family. In some alternate timeline, he'd likely been just some guy with a 9 to 5, a wife, and two kids. He's miserable, but in a conveniental way. He sees his family over the holidays and they go on holiday any chance they get.
Instead, Aurelius possesses only the jagged fragments of a family. Any attempt at holding them too close, at holding on too tight— and Aurelius cuts himself on the edges, emerging bloodied each and every time. And still, he continued to reach for them, the truest marker of a madman. Today is no different. When Max enters Aurelius's apartment, he's finishing up their dinner preparations for the evening. He'd learned to cook some years into his recovery, motivated by his desire not be a gym bro who consumed endless chicken breasts and boiled eggs. And he'd grown surprisingly good at it. He awaits whatever complaint Max will level at him to start the evening— that was typically how his greetings began. "And a hi hello to you too." Not a lick of fucking manners in this family, man. "It's not going to be a shit show because you're going to keep your mouth shut about anything work related and I'm going to do the same. So keep your big fucking mouth shut. I want your lips tighter than one of Tom Cruise's NDAs."
Aurelius rolled his eyes. Sure, he'd definitely been behaving something akin to a father, but he resented the idea that he'd been acting like their dad. "There's nothing Marcus Crane-ish about me inviting my black sheep siblings over for dinner. That would make me the antithesis to dad if anything," Aurelius points out. He sighs. If Max appeared ungrateful now, then CiCi would surely put him to shame. The woman sustained herself on coffee, negativity, and the failures of her siblings. He'd never have dinner at her place, partially because she'd never invite him, and partially because he couldn't know for certain if he'd leave poisoned or not. "Hell, if we play our cards right, maybe we can leave with dirt on the Weisses."
@bloodyglcry
CLAUDIA NEVER LIKED CRANE FAMILY GATHERINGS, BUT SHE HAD TO ADMIT SHE WAS A BIT MORE EXCITED FOR THIS ONE. The news of the Vitelli don's demise had reached her ears through multiple sources, and she knew that meant her family's firm was working overtime to cover up the loss and form a sympathetic angle for the family. They were predictable in their approaches, and perhaps that's why she found herself itching to see what secrets they blurt out during this dinner. Oh, this was going to be fun.
She didn't bother knocking on the door--- she figured Aurelius had left it unlocked for their arrival. Instead, she pushed it open and let the sound of her heels clacking across the floor signal her arrival. Her eyes flicked around her big brother's condo as she wandered towards the kitchen. She couldn't remember the last time their family had dined together. It happened during their youth, but most of those consisted of silence or their father lecturing one of them about slouching or making too much noise. There was a hope that this one wouldn't be as awkward, but with the siblings on different sides, there was no telling how it would go.
She spotted the boys in the kitchen, and a smirk slowly formed on her lips. Let the games begin. "Hello, boys." She greeted, a bottle of wine in her hand as she wandered towards the kitchen counter. She placed the expensive wine near Maxim before her eyes flicked between the two of them, "I heard Augustu finally croaked," She said bluntly, waiting for their reaction. "Is this dinner to distract me from the mess you two are in?" She tilted her head, egging them on a bit, "Or perhaps you realized you're on the losing side and want to convert. If you get on your knees and beg, maybe I'll put a good word in for you."
Elizabeth Debicki
People Magazine, August 2024 || 📷: Rosaline Shahnavaz
when: march 20th, 1997
where: the weiss wedding reception, cocktail hour
who: open !
dominique leans against a wall, people watching from a distance. she is quite the social butterfly herself, but she is waiting to find the perfect prey. sipping on her champagne, cat-like eyes dart across the room to analyze each of the guests. it's like all of vegas is in attendance and considering the kind of pull that the weiss family has, well, she wouldn't be surprised…
throwing back the rest of her drink, she places the glass on a nearby table. contemplating her next move, dom bites on her lower lip as she makes her way over to the open bar to order something with a little more of a kick. she steps up and orders something strong but simple – vodka soda, only for someone to end up tapping on her shoulder.
“oh shit! did i cut you?” she flashes the other a smile. “my bad… here ya go,” she nods towards the bartender, “here, take ‘em first.. i didn’t realize.”
IVAN HAD NEVER BEEN THE WEDDING TYPE. Seeing his father walk out on his family dampened the vision of a perfect marriage as a child, and as he grew older, his mind was more preoccupied with taking care of his family and finding a cure for Dominique. The only reason he came to the Weiss family wedding was that he grew close to one of the Weiss cousins and got an invitation through them, and he needed a break from staring at microscopes for hours on end.
The sight of Dom had intrigued but worried him. What was she doing at the wedding? What if someone discovered who she really was? What if there was a slayer in attendance? He knew she was a grown adult who could make her own decisions, but in his eyes, he saw the little girl she used to be.
"It's fine, Dom. You go first." He nodded, staring down the bartender until the boy started making the drink. When it was ready, he slid it over to his sister and watched her. "Are you enjoying the wedding?"
WHO: Reid Calloway & Janella Warren (@b4rredteeth) WHERE: Outside of Flying Saucer Restaurant
THOUGH REID'S GOAL WAS TO ROB THE WEISSES AND VITELLIS OF THEIR FORTUNES ALONGSIDE HIS TEAM, IT DIDN'T MEAN HE COULDN'T HAVE A LITTLE FUN WHILE THEY FINISH PLANNING THEIR MISSION. He wasn't a professional pickpocket by any means, but he knew how to charm and disarm his target without them realizing until he's out of sight. This time, he had brought a woman who was supposedly connected to the Weiss family to the Flying Saucer Restaurant for a date. The couple seemed as fixated with each other as any budding couple, with intertwined hands and soft kisses slipped in between food courses.
When they left the restaurant, Reid leaned over and gave her a kiss. His hands roamed her body like a man in love, but slowly slipped into her back pocket and clasped onto her wallet while the moment lingered. He pulled away from the kiss slowly, slipping the wallet into his own pocket before her eyes fluttered open. The duo parted ways shortly after, a feeling of pride blooming in his chest at his victory.
But whatever smile adorned his lips slowly disappeared when he noticed JANELLA WARREN was walking in his direction. He didn't know if she spotted his con or not, but either way, he knew their reunion wouldn't be a joyous one. "Janella," He nodded, trying not to let the nervousness take hold at the sight of his old acquaintance, "Funny seeing you here."
WHO: Wren Kang & Dominique Burke (@deatthtouched) WHERE: Outside of the Underworld
WREN THOUGHT ABOUT THE NIGHT HE LET A VAMPIRE GO A LOT MORE THAN HE'D EVER ADMIT. He didn't know what it was about the girl that led him to that moment of weakness on his end. He was taught to hate vampires, watched as the creatures tore his family apart, and yet he let one live when he had the chance to prove his worth as a slayer and get rid of a creature who caused more harm than good. It was a secret he'd hope none of his fellow slayers would ever find out, for he'd never hear the end of it and would most likely lose that trust they value so deeply.
And just when he got the memory of the girl out of his mind, he spotted her. Those brown eyes and dark curls were burned into his mind, and he knew it couldn't be anyone else. He didn't know if it was another fated moment or a planned encounter on her part, but either way, he took the opportunity to approach her and pull her into an alley.
"You..." He whispered, staring at her before looking into the street to see if anyone was watching them. When he spotted no eyes even glancing their way, he spoke again, "What are you doing here?"
CLOSED STARTER FOR @bloodyglcry, REID + YASMIN. the mirage hotel, hours before the wedding.
"You're pouting." The words come easily and without much pity, leaned over in the vanity mirror with a tube of mascara in her hand, lifted delicately to her lashes. "It doesn't suit you." There's precision to how she presents for these types of things, a physicality that most women would recognize, would empathize with. She's not attending this wedding as herself; she's attending as Beau Fairchild's plus one, some hotshot lawyer who's supposedly a family friend of the Weisses. She's attending not as a woman of depth with a mind of her own, but as a woman who makes rich men look good, look desirable, look esteemed. It might be demeaning if she weren't liable to leave with something far greater than any man could ever be.
There's sure to be something fucking valuable in that manor, and she's sure to wear her biggest, finest coat to smuggle it out with her, pockets on the inside and all. It's a game she knows well; work the room, work the socialites, in and out before anyone's noticed her, and why would they? She's no one special, no one of importance. She likes to keep it that way, at least to them.
Eventually, when she's pleased with her own reflection, she stands straight and letting her eyes roam, smacking lips to even the lipstick. Yasmin catches his reflection in the mirror and turns, crosses to stand in front of him. Her fingers reach for his tie, smoothing it out, fixing it. "Try not to cause a commotion tonight," she says evenly, knowing it's likely so very hard for the man to do. "All you've got to do is attend, get names, patterns. It's a public speech, not a playground."
REID HAD BEEN A SOLO ARTIST FOR SO LONG THAT IT FELT STRANGE TO BE PART OF A TEAM. He grew used to superficial connections that changed the moment he changed his identity and base of operations. People never saw the real him, only the visage he crafted to swindle them out of wealth or charm them into a sense of security. Even he was starting to blur the lines between his real identity and the ones he created for his cons.
Yasmin didn't know the real him, and he didn't know the real her, but somehow, that fit their dynamic perfectly. She was alluring and mysterious; he was charming and deceptive. They, along with their team muscle, made the perfect trio for a heist team. Their dynamics were laid out and followed perfectly, but Reid began to question Yasmin's guidance when she instructed him to go to Francisco Vitelli's speaking event rather than the Weiss wedding.
"I just think my talents would be better spent at the wedding." He retorted, tilting his neck to allow her more access to his tie. "I mean, look at me. I'm practically made for the dance floor and conversing with drunk, rich people." He understood why he wasn't meant to go to the wedding. After all, Yasmin had a perfect cover that allowed her to blend in with the other guests. Still, he hated that he was assigned to speech duty. He could practically feel himself falling asleep and pouting at all the missed wedding stories.
"You have so little faith in me, Yas." He flashed her his signature, charming smile. He reached out and took her hand gently, leaning over to place a soft kiss on her wrist before glancing up, "I'll be my regular, charming self and they'll be none the wiser."
Stupid bloodsucking fuckers.
Mikael was already tired of playing babysitter for the Weisses; now he had to babysit for the Visitors as well. As if one nest of ancient parasites wasn’t enough. Apparently everyone had to prove their value these days, demonstrate loyalty, initiative, whatever fashionable nonsense the elders had decided to invent this decade. And of course the proving always seemed to land squarely on his shoulders.
He stood guard by a narrow alleyway that smelled faintly of cheap beer and rotting cardboard. A flickering streetlamp buzzed overhead, throwing a weak yellow light that painted everything in sickly colors. Somewhere deeper in the alley, a stray cat knocked over a bottle with a sharp clink before scurrying off.
Mikael leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, trying to pretend the boredom wasn’t gnawing at his nerves. Earlier, he had argued with whatever-his-name-was from the Visitors. Pale bastard with the greasy hair and the permanent sneer.
Mikael had suggested it would be easier to take the little human somewhere more secluded, less noise, less mess, more finesse. Apparently that had been the wrong suggestion, the response he got was a middle finger and a hissed “mind your own business.”
He had nearly laughed.
“Well,” Mikael muttered to himself now, shifting his weight, “I’d love to do exactly that if people stopped hijacking all of my free time.”
His cigarette had burned down to a thin, fragile stick between his fingers, he flicked it away, watching the ember arc through the air before dying in a puddle. Babysitting was never glamorous, but tonight it felt especially pointless.
Then the air shifted. It was subtle, something most humans would never notice. A ripple in the stillness. A disturbance in the rhythm of the constricted space.
Mikael didn’t even have time to straighten before a figure rushed past him so fast it felt like a cold gust of wind. The vampire—shit, he really needed to learn their names at some point—stumbled through the alley entrance like a drunk hurricane, his coat was smeared with fresh blood, his movements erratic. Worse, his fangs were still extended, struggling to retract as blood dripped down his chin.
He barely slowed as he passed Mikael, just enough to choke out a warning through red smeared teeth. “Hunter.”
Then he was gone again, vanishing into the maze of backstreets with supernatural speed. Mikael stared after him for a long moment.
“Fantastic,” he muttered flatly.
It was really Mika’s lucky night. If he started selling hats, people would be born headless. He pushed himself off the wall with a sigh just as another figure came barreling into view at the far end of the alley.
Not nearly as fast. Not nearly as graceful.
The hunter skidded around the corner like someone who had never practiced chasing supernatural predators through wet pavement, his shoes slipped and for a terrifying moment it looked like he was about to faceplant directly into the concrete.
The kid barely caught himself, staggering forward.
Kid was the correct word.
Mikael blinked slowly; this was the terrifying hunter the Visitors had been whining about?
The boy looked… young. Too young. Maybe mid-twenties, maybe less. His hair was messy from running, his breath ragged, and his backpack bounced awkwardly against his shoulders like he’d packed for a school trip instead of a monster hunt.
More like a university student who had wandered into the wrong horror movie, not a—
The boy tripped.
Actually tripped.
His foot caught on the uneven pavement and he lurched forward with a startled yelp, arms flailing. The backpack swung wide, the zipper half-open.
“I can explain,” he stuttered, eyes wide as he looked up. Something wooden slipped free from the bag, it rolled across the pavement with a hollow clatter.
A stake.
Mikael watched it spin toward him with mild curiosity, then stepped forward and stopped it with the sole of his shoe.
Adorable.
The poor kid had no idea how lucky he was. The vampire he had been chasing would’ve turned him into shredded meat if things had gone differently. Hell, the only reliable way to kill that particular bloodsucker was drowning him in vinegar, and Mika seriously doubted the kid had thought to pack a gallon jug.
Mikael bent down and picked the stake up between two fingers, examining it like a curious artifact. The wood was smooth but clearly hand-carved, one side was slightly uneven where the blade must’ve slipped.
“Need a hand?”
He extended his free hand toward the hunter. It was gloved, black leather snug against his fingers. Mikael wasn’t taking any chances, the last thing he needed was the kid grabbing his skin and realizing just how cold he had been since the night everything changed.
“You seem lost.”
WREN HAD ALREADY BEEN EMBARRASSED THAT HE LOST HIS TARGET, BUT THE SIGHT OF THE MAN LINGERING OVER HIM MADE HIM FEEL EVEN MORE AWKWARD ABOUT THE SITUATION. He wanted to deal with his failure privately, but now he had to explain the contents of his backpack and why he was racing around Las Vegas to a complete stranger. God forbid the man come into the ER and put the connection together. His colleagues would never let him live it down.
He froze for a second and stared at the man's outstretched hand before nodding, "I uh--- yeah. Thanks, man." He didn't ask about the gloves, assuming it was either a fashion choice or a health issue. Either way, it wasn't his place to judge.
"I'm not lost. Just lost... someone." He winced, rubbing the back of his neck at the discussion. He looked again for the vampire he had spotted earlier, but knew the man had done his best to disappear from the area. He couldn't imagine the look on Rosalin's face if she were to find out he let a vampire slip away. Well, another vampire. At this rate, he could hardly call himself a slayer. "Did you see a man pass by? Pale, greasy hair, long coat. He um--- he stole some money from me." The lie wasn't that creative, but ht was at the point where he just wanted to move past his mistake as quickly as possible.
Naomie was far from being considered a politician, and even further from even considering entering a career in politics. While the gulch had its own political climate –the house mom, the bouncers, the bartenders, all needing a cut of the stripper tax– it was a few steps removed from the complexity and corruption of local and state governments. And sure, Naomie dabbled in politics the way tourists in Las Vegas dabbled in craps or any other of the table games at casinos, with a kind of gleeful and inexperienced attitude that was sure to ruin her life.
On the other hand, politicians loved her. They loved that she could be discreet, they loved the positions she could get herself into, they loved feeling like, as old men who had all the sex appeal of a hairless chihuahua, someone like Naomie wanted them. In Claudia’s case, she liked that Naomie had an ear to the conversation even when her mouth was otherwise preoccupied. Men in the throes of pleasure said just about anything, and if there was more than one in the room while Naomie was dancing, they said just about anything to each other and about each other. Naomie was like a piggy bank where clients deposited their secrets and Claudia was the lucky owner of said piggy bank every Thursday morning at 4 am, where Naomie would step out for a smoke after her shift and unload the earnings of the week in exchange for financial compensation. Of course, she never received money directly. Naomie was smarter than… well than Naomie, well aware that the best thing was just for Claudia to do whatever Claudia did to hide her identity, and slowly contribute to the debt that her father had accrued while gambling.
“Sorry,” she offered, a bit brisk in her tone despite it not directed at Claudia. Lately the Gulch had been suffocating her. Naomie felt like she was in a room with four walls and every time she came here the room was smaller and smaller. Claudia was just another one of those walls sometimes. Naomie wrapped her jacket around herself, and was looking forward to having a hot shower when she got home. She took a cigarette out from her jacket pocket and then patted her other pockets for a lighter, a sighed fuck escaping her lips when she couldn’t find it.
“My shift was…”
Hands on hips. Spilled beers. Forced shots. Tongue on her chest. Crushed pills in the change room. Sweaty pole bars. Thudding music. Bar fight. Spaghetti spilled on the floor. Line of coke. More shots. Mouthwash. Client spitting on her. Mouthwash. Blow job in the backroom. Mouthwash. Mouthwash. Mouthwash.
“...uneventful. You got a light, councillor?”
Naomie leaned her back against the wall and looked at Claudia, cigarette extended out in hope, “It might be the best thing that’s been in my mouth all night.”
CLAUDIA LONGED TO HAVE EYES AND EARS ALL OVER LAS VEGAS. She wanted everyone's secrets at her fingertips and that sense of power and control that came with it. Perhaps it came from her family's PR background and how they were privy to everyone's mess-ups, or it drew from the competitive nature of her childhood and the need to one-up those around her. Either way, she needed to create a web of spies to keep herself ahead of her opponents and ensure she had what it took to get to the top of the ladder--- both politically and in the mob.
Naomie was one of the spies in her pocket. The girl caught her eye due to her proximity to the Las Vegas elite and how they so easily let their guard down around a pretty face. Powerful men-- and occasionally women-- were so easy to play when you're young and beautiful. Just a fluttering of the eyes and a nice smile were enough to learn their regrets and desires, and Claudia used that weakness to her advantage through the dancer.
Claudia dug into her pocket and pulled out her lighter, holding it out until the dancer's cigarette was lit. She tucked the item back in her pocket afterward, letting the smoke of her own cigarette hover around them as she listened to the girl's words. "A shame. I love an eventful night." A busy night meant more secrets for her to collect. She eyed the girl leisurely, as if there wasn't a sense of anticipation thrumming through her veins. "I admit, I didn't watch your dances. Seeing a bunch of horny men thirst after a girl way out of their league isn't my type of fun, but I'm sure you were the star of the evening." She tested her words, trying to find ways to probe for information that wouldn't catch the attention of any passersby. "Any of the guests stand out to you?"
with: @boneyardstarters where: the weiss wedding when: march 20th, 1997
"Well, that was interesting." Sévérine was the first to break the silence at his table when Romi Weiss was all but escorted off the stage. "Which one of you here bet Romi was going to be the sister to blow everything to shit?" As soon as he'd walked onto the courtyard before the ceremony, the translator had already begun a betting pool among family members — which sister was going to fuck everything up for their father's big day? See, he wouldn't be caught dead getting in the way of his father's own wedding, and he had been almost the perfect son when he'd remarried and brought Siah into the family. It helped that his stepmother was a longtime family friend, and Siah and Sévérine had ever been the troublesome two, as if they were siblings by blood and not the ties of a ring on someone's finger. A glint in his green eyes, a hand crept onto the table, palm facing skyward. "No need to announce your shame if you thought Cassandra, cough up your money and we'll be square." His other hand grabbed the wine glass that he had been nursing, only to realize it was empty. "...Are you going to finish that champagne, by the way? I'm fresh out."
IT WAS NICE TO SEE FAMILY DRAMA THAT DIDN'T INVOLVE THE CRANES, BUT CLAUDIA WAS ANNOYED THAT IT WAS HER EMPLOYERS. She could practically visualize Aurelius' smug expression when the news hit that a member of the Weiss family had a public meltdown at the don's wedding. A part of her knew it was good that there was tension since it meant she could slither in easier, but she had to admit that Romi falling from grace messed up the plans she had been laying since she switched alliances.
At Severine's comment, she sighed and dug into her purse. She tossed $20 his way with a slight scowl, "I had money on the middle daughter. She seemed like the type to crash her father's wedding." Claudia didn't know much about the middle child of the Weiss clan, but Cassandra seemed too meek and Romi was the member she was trying to buddy up to, so she was trying to put trust in her that she would sit back and keep her mouth shut. Perhaps Claudia should've given her some PR training ahead of the event. "You took my money, and now you're trying to take my drink as well?" She teased, downing the last of her drink so he couldn't snatch it from her. "Have some shame."
There's something different about her, something that surpasses the attitude he's so well attuned to -- the years may have passed, but Jasper knows her better than either of them realizes. There's a fury beneath the veneer now, a sharpness to her. It pricks at his mind, a gut feeling he can't ignore, that he wants to ignore in favor of taking in the woman he loved in front of him again. But it's instinctual, that hunter's mind, cataloguing everything. He thinks of what he knows already, the mining company and the headlines, the addresses - his innate curiosity to figure out what happened to her, just as intent as she seems to be on deflecting the question.
He should accept the barb, let her have the last word, do his job, keep his hands clean. That's what a smarter man would do, one that didn't have history tangled around his throat like a noose that keeps tightening, but Petra Weiss has never been something he could treat like a passing inconvenience. Jasper has spent the last two years on his own and he'd be lying to say he wasn't desperate to get back, to his family, to the hunters. Petra was an added bonus. He smiles a little while she bitches at him, makes it easier to ignore you, an amused curl to his lip, unable to help it, because Petra has never been good at ignoring anything that irritates her. He pointedly doesn't bring up again how she came to him.
Why does it matter where I disappeared to? Well, he could come up with a dozen answers for that alone, none of which she'd like to hear. Because I went looking for you. Because no one would give me an answer, because I couldn't find a fucking trace and it drove me crazy for years and now here you stand like nothing ever happened. "Usually when an heiress to a very powerful family goes missing, people get curious." Jasper shrugs, he knows he won't get an answer out of her now, maybe ever - unfortuantely, it only reignites the need to figure it out, a stubborn thread of loyalty that never learned how to die properly.
His gaze drifts for a moment, not away from her, just sideways enough to clock the curious looks from passing gamblers, the security cameras overhead, the edges of a dozen little problems he has to keep contained while this conversation burns quietly between them. And then he meets her gaze again and asks outright, "Will you take a walk with me?" His hands raise in mock surrender, a small smile on his lips. "No rings attached."
IT WAS STRANGE HOW JASPER SEEMED TO CARE ABOUT PETRA. Even as she pushed him away and called him names, he still seemed to care about her wellbeing and where she disappeared to for years. Even her own family didn't bother searching for her when she as gone--- they sooner cut her own of family pictures and pretended like the Weiss family only had two daughters in their midst. She didn't know how to feel about his attention towards her, so she chose to do what she always did when he was around: put her walls up and throw jabs until he breaks.
"I didn't see any private investigators or family members scouring the city for me, so I doubt that." There was a bitterness on her tongue as she thought about how easily she was discarded. An anger had settled in her chest since she was a child, but it turned into an inferno after she became a vampire. She hated this city, her family, and those who allow them to remain in power. Perhaps that's why she's harsh with Jasper--- he reminds her of all that she despised.
She squinted a bit when he asked to go on a walk. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. She half thought about leaving him in the dust and walking out alone, but a curiosity ate at her. She looked away, trying to ignore that smile on his lips as she muttered, "Fine, but no holding hands."
closed starter! for: claudia crane. @bloodyglcry where: the manor suites.
there was no true dawn in this city, only the hour when the neon finally admitted defeat. and the strip traded its electric fever for a dull, exhausted blue in the stubborn horizon, the pavement still radiating the heat of last night's torrid indulgences. yet the moment the gates of the manor suites closed behind you, the chaos evaporated into a vacuum of curated luxury. it was a neighborhood built on the premise of absolute exclusion, where isolation was baked into the architecture and assimilating with anything urban was considered poor taste. as maude’s car crept along the winding internal roads, the polished facades and perfectly shaped topiary seemed to watch her pass in a state of silent judgment. but then, just as this morning threatened to be just another boring, univentive repetition, an ugly, sputtering noise suddenly violated the stillness. a familiar car sat parked a few yards up the drive, the engine turning over with a sickly whine before choking out. behind the glass, she saw ms. crane sitting in the driver's seat, seemingly holding herself with an inch of stiffness, the tension leaking out only in the abbreviated motion of her hand turning the key again. and again. and again. failing, failing and failing. the newcomer watched the politician from the cool interior of her own vehicle, gaze lingering far past what was considered polite observation, her brown eyes hidden behind cartier sunglasses. neighbors, here, rarely spoke. proximity did not equal familiarity. still, their paths had crossed enough times in passing glances, shared driveways, synchronized arrivals from weiss functions. a curiosity sharpened by caution; some quiet, unsolicited awareness lingering. weren't they tangled in the same invisible web of weiss patronage? willingly crushed under the might of the same thumb? why not be useful?
a soft spoken command was all it took for her driver to ease the vehicle to a crawl, drifting seamlessly toward the edge of the pavement. the rear window sank down halfway into the door. "councilwoman crane," maude called, pitching her voice into a cocoon of warm politeness. after all, this was nothing more than an accidental crossing of paths, was it not? the harsh sunlight deflected off her sunglasses, concealing the assessing, yet mostly entertained look beneath them. "good morning." she flicked a glance at the ruined engine, then back to the woman trapped behind the wheel. "we appear to be traveling in the same direction." the corner of her mouth lifted in the faintest smirk. "allow me to be a responsible resident and support local government efficiency." the door unlocked with a soft mechanical click. inside, the car smelled faintly of leather and l'eau d'issey. a bottle of unopened sparkling water rested beside a slim folder of documents, its tab marked in neat, precise handwriting. she shifted slightly, making space without quite surrendering much territory. "i promise not to interrogate you before nine a.m.," she noted brightly, sketching a playful x across her chest to soften the edge of the joke. her motorola international 8800 lit up against her palm. a brief text flashed across the miniature screen, leaving romi’s name glowing just long enough to be read before the backlight died. maude did not so much as glance down. she simply placed the phone face down on her lap and anchored her attention on the tall blonde instead. she lowered her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose, letting her cornea properly behold the blinding nevada palette and all else it had to offer. "besides," she said, tone softening evenly, "neighbors should occasionally behave like neighbors." a second smile bloomed on her lips. sharper and wider this time. "get in. i'm heading to a meeting near the city hall. it's nothing, really."
WHENEVER INCONVENIENT THINGS HAPPENED, CLAUDIA'S MIND ALWAYS WENT TO SABOTAGE. She knew she was a good target for assassins, con artists or anyone else trying to ruin her day. After all, she was a turncoat who betrayed the biggest crime family in Vegas for their opponents, and she was a politician on top of that. So, when her car didn't start when she was due to be at the city hall for an important meeting around a new initiative that the Weiss family wanted passed, she grew suspicious about the timing and cause of her issues.
Luckily, it seemed like someone was there to save the day (or cover up that they're the one responsible for her mishap in the first place--- Claudia wasn't sure which reason led the socialite to her rescue). She squinted a bit as she tried to gauge Maude's motivation, but the sounds her car was making led her to sigh and slip out of the car. She settled beside her neighbors, eyes scanning the interior of the car before she spoke. "I suppose I should say thank you for offering me a ride. " Gratitude didn't come easily to Claudia. She was used to fighting tooth and nail for stuff, not being given handouts or help from outside forces. "It's a good thing you're headed toward city hall. God knows how long it would've taken a mechanic to come fix my car."
Her fingers itched to whip out a cigarette and help take the edge off, but she refrained. She didn't want to appear rude to her neighbor, especially when the woman could be of use to her. Still, that courtesy didn't stop her from noting the name she spotted on the girl's phone before she put it facedown. "I didn't know you were close with Romi." She didn't like it when people went after her targets, but she shouldn't be surprised that someone else had their eyes on the daughter. After all, she was the easiest way to climb up the Weiss ladder.
