Thick As Thieves

Bradin. Damaged. Functional. Alive. Very, very, very alive.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Stephen || Seizing This Day As If It Were The Last

Those whispers of war had started off as something to laugh about at Thirst over several large pints of ale and Iris feeding Bradin and his friends countless rounds of typical bar food. They were nothing to take seriously of course; Bradin and the men of Night Haven had heard the rumors the year before and the year before that, all the while with King Athor sitting atop his throne in a slick velvet cloak and a smirk among his face. He had always looked like that, Bradin remembered from his times spent at the castle grounds every so often, and never had Bradin truly imagined that the night of war was offical, and very, very real.

At first it was somewhat terrifying, to see the Knights hounding through the village as if they were hunting something valuable. They turned over vendor carts and pillaged for food, demanding a place to sleep and the clothes off of the townsfolk backs. Bradin wasn't sure who or what they had been searching for at first, but it became apparent to him later when his shop on the main strip in Night Haven was ambushed the day after King Athor had made his speech about the enemy.

"Mr. Bradin Perkins?" a large Knight, almost twice the size of Bradin, spoke to the artist in a loud and booming voice. Following him into the shop, a complete invasion of privacy, was a handful of other Knights with looks that reflected that of uncaring and unconcern. 

Bradin took a moment, a very short and simple moment, to scan these random men and raise his eyebrows in disbelief. Sitting at his main desk, sentimental paintbrush in hand as it dripped red from its delicate bristles, Bradin could only smirk,

"Maybe,"

"Under the order of the law and King Athor, the first born male of every household must serve in the battles bestowed by your royal majesty. Anyone refusing such an honor will be imprisoned and soon sentenced to death for treason against the King,"

"Excuse me?"

"You are to come with us immediatly and travel east. You will then be trained in combat for the war and given your position in battle upon arrival. Come on, lad,"

"Are you serious? I'm not going anywhere, especially with you,"

A couple seconds and that was enough for Bradin's life to flash before his daring eyes. As the words about war and loyalty and honor and battles slipped from the Knight's tongue, Bradin could only watch in amusement. Him fight for the King? It was enough to make the man laugh out loud, drop his paintbrush carelessly against the canvas on his desk and place a very genuinely 'I don't care' look against his face. The nerve of these Knights, of his majesty, to demand such requirements from Bradin. There were probably more than enough men to fight these vikings, and Bradin doubted his artistic skill would have any use in a war against deathly large creatures.

"You do what you need to do, sir, but I promise you I will not be caught dead fighting for King Athor, no matter the circumstances. He can go to hell,"

[rebecca-anske-rp-blog]

Rebecca ~ Bradin || These Lies About The Truth Are Innocent

[rebecca-anske-rp-blog]

“Yes,”

Rebecca’s answer came more quickly than she was sure Bradin had anticipated but it was her honest opinion, and Rebecca was not one to lie when being asked a direct question of her own feelings. She had settled next to the man, legs spread like his and had leaned back on her palms. The ground was barely damp and the blades of grass on the hill were very cool against a naturally warm body. The scent, in particular, upon that hill was noticably intoxicating. Whether it be the mixture from the tree resting behind them and the deep musk that extracted from Bradin, Rebecca was not sure. Either way, it was relaxing and wrapped a warm blanket of comfort around her small body. 

Rebecca always felt best when someone could confide in her, to ask her questions regarding events or situations or decisions in ones life that were intolerable or difficult. Her advice was given without pride, without her nose being stuck up into the air and the feeling that she was better than anyone else in that moment. It was honest and wholehearted, like her mother used to bestow upon her before she were a teenager, and even if the person she was telling her opinion to chose not to take her knowledge, than Rebecca ramined okay with that. It was an honor, to her, to just be able to have someone else trust her enough with their secrets. After all, Rebecca would hope for someone to do the same for her.

“Erasing memories is selfish, Bradin, no matter which way you look at it. Your family is a part of you; they shaped you into who you are today and the morals that flow through your veins. I did not know them, but the intensity that streams off of your body is filled with grief to this day. I know that your family would not have wanted this from you, and to have them erased would be a dishonor upon their name. It must be hard, I’m sure, to try to live with their memory and still be happy, but you are strong I can tell. I know you can do this. Please just have faith in yourself,”

She would be lying if erasing the memories of her younger siblings and parents from her head had never crossed her mind while she had grieved their loss, yet Rebecca today was grateful that she never followed through with any such plan. Today, she felt as if she were stronger than before; knowing that she could face any obstacle that came before her and overcome the barriers that wanted to desperately to trap her into a depression. 

The sun was still fading, not quite setting for another few minutes, and she stared with intricate eyes over the large hill towards the castle. 

“We have all seen loss in our life. Acceptance is not impossible. I promise,”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin blinked dumbly as he watched the features against Rebecca's jaw move to the flow of words pouring from her mouth. But no, they weren't just any words; they seemed plucked specifically from some unseen force in order to aid Bradin in his distress. It was as if Rebecca were reading his soul to determine the best advice to grace him with, and it was as if she could see through the pathetically depressed person that Bradin was becoming every year at that time. Her voice alone was ridiculously soothing and calm, with a strong hint of determiniation and selfless pride. It was alluring and if Bradin were at a better place in his life he'd want to be around that voice always. 

"Who are you?" Bradin asked sarcastically, a half smile forming against his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. "My own mother never even said things like that to me. You sound so grown up, like someone who should be revving people up for a tournament or something and cheering them on from the crowds,"

The sarcasm and obviously dry sense of humor the Bradin extracted was leaked before he realized it, but instead of feeling embarrassed he felt decently well. The last few days had been a struggle, as if he were walking through a nightmare repeatedly without an escape. And as the sun began its descend behind the large mountains and hills, Bradin felt strangely at peace sitting next to this stranger, this girl who was a bundle of mystery and sheer beauty on both the inside and out.

Pinks and reds illuminated the fields below them, radiating off of the white castle walls with precision and awe. The fluffy clouds presented themselves with a dark shade of purple as the sun declined and Bradin noticed how Rebecca's face was relaxed with a deep serenity. It was almost tangible, as if he could physically paint the emotion reflecting from her skin and display it on a large piece of canvas. It would be the most valuable piece of art Bradin would ever be honored to accomplish; if he could show the world that true honesty and peace existed then perhaps Athoria would be a more homey place to reside.

Bradin traced his eyes against the creases of her mouth, small and diligent, and holding an assuredness that Bradin was jealous of. He wished to attain such contempt with life and allowed his mind to curiously wonder over the various species in the world that could remain so happy at a time like this, with war hovering over everyones shoulders and a King who was stubborn and weary. 

"Rebecca," he said in a breathy whisper as chestnut irises met those of deep hazel, and for a moment Bradin was rendered speechless before words found his tongue again. "Tell me what you are,"

[srta-levine]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Sitting on a box.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Collette || Smashed Into Pieces

[collette-daisy-markham-blog]

A smile grew pompously against Collette’s lips as she first kept her gaze on the mortal some steps away then graciously moved them to meet the eyes of her current prisoner being forced up against the wall, feet dangling below him & small whimpers escaping his throat. His face was distorted from the beatings that had been bestowed upon him by this man & the blood that seeped through the open wounds was luscious. The fragrance of ale was enough for Collette to comply to the wishes of her entertainer.

“My pleasure,”

The palm of her hand uppercutted the mans chin to send his head slamming backwards into the brick & she held it there tightly. The pulsing vein on the side of his neck exposed itself to the blood thirsty queen, a naturally diligent & decently proper woman of the night with only moments like these to be given as an exception. She wasn’t sure if her actions were to purposely impress this mortal requesting her to kill the drunken man or if her need for a ravenous expedition of her character to be deflated, but regardless Collette was not complaining about appeasing to her animalistic side. 

Her pupiles grew to a monstrous size against icy blue orbs. She could physically feel his sporadic heartbeat beat rhythmically into her own as heightened senses engulfed his fear. It was lovely, deliciously satisfying to enduce such disturbance against a specie weaker than herself.

Sharp, pointed & deadly incisors pierced the skin above the vein in his neck, sinking deep into a designated spot against his artery. The blood flow was easy to control with Collette’s many experiences over the past thousand years & she drank so profoundly & exotically that not a single spill was divulged from his double incision. It tasted riveting; she could never deny the fulfillment of the freshest batch of human blood & for it to be laced with that of his alcoholic beverages consumed that night Collette was in a make-believe heaven. 

She moaned, pressing against the man as she drained him easily & quickly, soaking up the moment, as it was rare, until the heartbeat that was once heard pounding through her ears faded slowly to a dull rasp. & with the disappearance of his breath against the cool night, Collette pulled from wounds on his neck with a deep, satisfying sigh.

The man fell to the ground like a limp animal, collapsing onto his side with eyes still open. Collette casually licked the blood from her long fangs as the gaze between her & the handsome man ignited once more. He was standing firm, stiff even but with an expressionless face that Collette found inviting. Curiousty in both her own mortal & vampyric life had always been a weakness of hers, & tonight was no different.

She smiled & brushed still perfect blonde curls out of her face. With being completely full & with her hunger urge taking a small hiatus for the time being, the sudden desire to throw this man up against a wall in a heated & controlled burst of dangerous lust was churning within her instinct. Besides, a man that attractive had to have so much to offer in that department, mortal or not. Collette bit at her lip with pointed teeth.

“Tell me that didn’t turn you on,” she semi-laughed, head shaking slightly & mystical eyes still locked with his own deep hazel. “You seem decently unaffected. Perhaps this sort of thing is just the escape you were hoping to accomplish,” she stepped over the body of the dead man as if he were a simple throw rug, & took long strides towards her stranger. “I’m Collette, by the way. & it looks like you are just as bored as I am. What else did you plan on getting into tonight?”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Sometimes there were moments in life that seemed unreal. As if the situation taking place right before your eyes was simply a fucked up dream, a spell casted from a powerful witch to make vivid nightmares come true, or an array of hallucinations due to repressed feelings and mishandled problems from the past. Bradin could control most things in his life, whether that be a painting gone wrong or not charging a customer for a canceled appointment. He could deal with a few drunks giving Iris a hard time in Thirst without going out on a bloody rampage afterwards, and he could even take care of his own needs when it came to remembering his dead family and the pain that followed after every memorie swam through his mind on his loneliest nights in the shop.

He could not, however, figure out if this absolutely stunning and breathtaking woman was actually sucking the blood dry from Greogry so delicately that Bradin was almost hypnotized. She could have been, for all he knew at that moment, a product of his imagination, to have popped out of no where and taken an interest in watching Bradin potentially breaking down to commit murder with his own hands. 

But even as Bradin stood there watching, bloodied hands in his pockets as he witnessed the life drain from Gregory's face, and how she was so clean with her vampirism that the entire act seemed like a dance of art. He imagined painting such a feeling, with deeps blues and grey, with charcoal blacks and electric whites swirling together in an abyss of circles too chaotic to muster.

Maybe he should have been nauseous at the sight of a dead human being drained to a ghostly pale white just feet from where he stood. Maybe he should have felt guilt or remorse for condoning Greogry to such a unnatural death, especially by the specie in Athoria that he just so happen to dislike the most.

Collette. It was smooth and vivacious, entrancing and entitled and Bradin could not help but watch as her tongue darted against the long fangs that protruded from her gums. Regardless of her pale features, her skin was that of perfection, and with Gregory officially out of the way and with the distraction of almost killing him himself taken care of, the mortal man took gracious seconds to look this specie over.

"I'm not quite sure if witnessing someone being murdererd was on my to do list for tonight, Collette, but you are right in a strange way. Perhaps it was something I needed...I'm not sure. There was a good chance I would have killed him myself,"

Hazel eyes scanned her body noticeably without an intention to hide his gaze. Why would he? If Collette were to kill him then she might as well get it over with, and at least know how nice she looked beforehand. It was dangerous and stupid, Bradin knew this, but vampires were products of luxury, for the most part. A nice compliment and a lustful grin would go a long way, especially to someone of such high standards as the tight and fine dress she wore displayed. It was cut low, dipping down at the crease of her breast to hide an asset that Bradin was sure that, no matter the specie, could drive him wild.

It was all silly things to think of, though, especially at a time like that.

"My name is Bradin, and considering you just completed my apparent plans for the night, a nice pint of brandy and a handful of cigarettes will prove to be the rest of my evening," 

He wanted to smile, to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness that this night had been presented. He wanted to double over and shake his head over and over again, to get the image of Gregory's last gleam of hope in his eyes out of his head and fall asleep, forget about the dead body laying next to them and wake up to a clean slate.

"We should do something with him, Collette. Night Haven is friendly to supernaturals as long as they don't leave a mess,"

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Rosemary || I Don't Want To Speak These Words

[rosemarymclain-blog-deactivated]

The light left Rosemary’s eyes at the mention of her child’s father. She had tried countless times to forget what had happened and to instead focus on the child’s well being. But it seemed no matter what she told herself or what lies she spoke to the curious neighbours, she was not alright and it was not okay. It was something that she had locked away in the back of her mind, the words describing the truth of what had happened that horrible night seen only in the hidden pages of her journal. She hated to think of him and worst of all his smell. A distinct musky aroma that she would gag on when awakening from vivid nightmares.

There were times when she swore that she saw him. Glaring at her from a busy street corner only to disappear when their gaze had been interrupted. Of course she knew this to be nothing more than a brief lapse in sanity. A day dream or hallucination if you will. No doubtably brought on by the undue amount of stress she had been forced to endure as of late. It was something that she could never speak to Emery about. Fearing the consequences of bringing up the subject of that monster. After all that Emery had done for her. He had forgiven her, looked past the shameful act, he had even killed for her. To bring up that heart ache once more with silly images created by her mind’s eye would only be cruel. 

As Bradin spoke of her husband and his questionable species she felt irritation rising in her chest. That this man would accuse Emery of placing her and her child in danger by simply existing and insinuating that he would make a terrible father felt like an attack against her husband. She felt the need to defend her vampire and prove this man wrong but she knew his words to be the truth. Athoria had grown to be a dangerous place, filled with ignorance and worst of all fear. The sort of fear that plants a seed in your head and slowly grows to become a frightening obsession. Being a witch she had a greater chance of blending into the “normal” people of her homeland. But Emery was left to live in the shadows, fearing the sun and doomed to his vulnerable coma during the day.

He could not disguise himself as she could, and she knew that if he was found out that they would drag her down along with him. It was a dangerous life but one that  she would never trade. Then again it was not a life that she wanted for her son or daughter. With a deep sigh she held her stomach in her arms and looked back up at Bradin, wondering if he really could understand even a fraction of what she was going through.

“No, the child is not Emery’s. We had been separated in raids, it was a horrible time. I thought Emery to be dead and found myself captured by a knight of the king. They were going to tie me to the stake and cast me back into the flames but the man made me an offer and.. I agreed. I earned my freedom and was later reunited with Emery. It wasn’t until after the wedding that I found out I was pregnant.”

Rosemary shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the pain in her back and side making a reappearance as she laid her burdens down for the kind man. “As I’m sure you can imagine, Emery wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of his wife bearing another mans child. After everything that had happened I.. I don’t think I have what it takes to raise this child. I couldn’t put Emery through that and I myself would never be able to look at the baby and not see that man and what he did to me.”

A sharp pain pierced her side and the woman lightly gasped, holding her stomach and shaking her head until she felt she could continue. “Since you know of Emery and what he is I assume it’s alright for you to know. I am a witch, so there is a chance that my child will also have supernatural blood. I couldn’t run the risk of giving it to the church in fear that it would happen to take after me and be found out. So I found a family that has agreed to adopt the child. The mother, Susan, she’s very kind and she’s tried to help me through this but there is a part of me.. I don’t know. I understand that the best thing for me to do at this point is to give up the baby but at the same time.. I don’t want to abandon my own child. I.. I don’t..”

Suddenly feeling out of breath, the woman smiled apologetically and sat up straight. Her whole body ached, a terrible stabbing pain digging into her back and side. Even in a state of pain Rosemary tried to keep a confident appearance for her guest, not wanting to seem weak and definitely not wanting to worry the poor man. Pain had become a normal part of life lately, and just as before it would pass. Although after a few minutes the pain did not lessen. A sudden jolt tore through her and the woman cried out, lurching forward with tears in her eyes. 

[bradin-perkins-blog]

There was entirely too much to be processed during this visit with Rosemary, this witch, who carried a bastard of a child and was giving the little one away to a person whom she probably hardly knew. It was almost too strange for Bradin to handle, let alone this strong woman sitting before him. The mind-blowing scenario was almost too surreal, as if she were making it up or seeing how far she could take a joke that was not funny. Perhaps she was lying intentionally, maybe she was hiding something...

It just couldn't all be true; a witch and a vampire being wed, living in a house like a normal wealthy couple of Athoria, with a baby on the way and for them to actually be happy about all of this. No, Bradin was convinced that she wasn't telling him something, that there was a larger piece to this insane puzzle that she was simply ashamed of even more than admitting out loud the tragedy that bestowed upon her being pregnant.

Suddenly Bradin's problems of the past seemed less significant, if not existant at all. It was a good thing, of course, since Rosemary's pain had doubled, maybe tripled, in a matter of seconds and her face could not hide the uncomfortably any longer.

"Rose! Hey now," Bradin dove forward from his seat without hesitation, kneeling in front of the girl and placing his hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong, where does it hurt? I can help you, please just tell me okay? You can trust me,"

Bradin's heart began to race slowly at first, only slightly increasing from seeing Rose in the amount of pain that radiated throughout her body in what seemed like an abnormal way for her stage of pregnancy. His late wife had had no complications with her birthing, both of them, and although Bradin had some experience in this situation he was scared to fuck something up.

He brushed her hair from her face, holding back against the crown of her head and felt the skin on her face with the back of his hand. She looked pale, dehydrated maybe, and Bradin began to get nervous.

"Where is your doctor, Rose? We need to see him, right now,"

[rebecca-anske-rp-blog]

Rebecca ~ Bradin || These Lies About The Truth Are Innocent

[rebecca-anske-rp-blog]

Within seconds of Bradin’s accusation, a swift grin curled upon Rebecca’s lips, and without hesitation both her bow and an arrow were extracted from her back. She pivitated quickly and shot the arrow across the field in the blink of an eye, and as the stone point of her arrow pierced the bark of a young tree some feet away Rebecca’s eyes met those of Bradin’s once more.

“Pretty damn good,”

She lowered her bow, unable to contain the smirk that appeared on already grinning lips as she watched Bradin’s expression. It was nice to see the man focused on something else. Rebecca imagined Bradin spent many nights pondering the fire and the events that might have occured upon that tragic day. She, too, tended to dwell on her own faults when it came to the security of her family and how she was unable to protect them many years ago.

The fact that she did not know whether or not her brothers and sisters remained alive after she had fled her homeland was the very hole that rested deep within a grateful body.

“You shouldn’t regret anything that ever made you smile, Bradin. Even if it was fleeting or irrelevant, a bad joke or simply a piece of you that just chooses to laugh even though nothing was seen as humorous to others…those are the memories that you have to hold onto. And that’s not to protect yourself, but simply allowance to live freely without guilt or remorse,”

Rebecca wondered what type of man Bradin was outside of the depressed being that stood next to her. His wandering eyes on her body made her blush just slightly; even though it was something that Rebecca assumed she would get used to, considering she never looked the part of what Athoria deemed as “proper” for a lady, she had a side of her that remained self-conscious. She tucked a piece of brown behind her ear and veered her eyesight away from the alluring greens and towards the dirt below her boots, and kicked at the soil nonchalantly.

“You are going back to the castle tonight then? The sun will be hiding soon. It’s not exactly safe out here at night,” Rebecca bit at her lip, her constant feeling of continuing to assist those in need of comfort overtaking most of her rational senses. She wanted to spend more time with this man, to hear his stories and share moments with him. There was nothing like the connection of two beings, regardless of specie or gender, and Rebecca felt closest to Gaia when she could express her well-being to another. “Would you like to watch the sun set with me?”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Any other time, any other moment, any other day and place and situation and Bradin would be laughing; he would be cheering on Rebecca, this fierce and nobel woman standing before him, and begging her to show him the tricks of her trade. Any other chosen destination in his life would have never brought the man to be nodding in an almost shy agreement to Rebecca's suggestion of watching their glorious sun set when the feelings of self-loathing and emptiness that shrouded his inner being had settled. It was confusing and almost didn't feel right, but Bradin complied and surrendered to the complex emotion of not mourning properly for the death of his family.

Rebecca lead the way, leaving her arrow engraved into the tree some feet away and out towards the western side of the castle in the distance. It was a gorgeous sight in general, the way the tips of the white walls almost danced with those of matching white clouds above the structure. The castle seemed phenomenal and Bradin remembered his adventures there all too well. He might have had a great dislike for his King yet Bradin remained loyal regardless. After all, who was he supposed to bow down to nowadays? God? Vampires? Other creepy beings that prowled around in the night with their heads held high and with only their natural instinct to kill among them? No, Bradin had to have faith in his humanity and his people, of his kind, whether or not they were as strong as the supernatural that clouded Athoria like a plague.

The woman walked with diligent steps, as if each foot was meant to be placed exactly where Rebecca stepped. Bradin watched her move a tad bit in front of him, and noticed how the intricate brown eyes were aimed steadily in front of her; yet she looked as if she were on full alert. Not a muscle seemed tense in her body, but Bradin swore that her senses were keen. It was interesting and in a way Bradin wished he hadn't a natural tendancy to overview the actions of new people in order to determine their true form. He had encountered too many nameless creatures for the human to let his guard down. And tonight he planned on living, whether this woman shared the same specie as him or not. With a sharp eye like hers when it came to simply shooting an arrow, Bradin would not be wise to dismiss that as normal. Especially not for a female, regardless if were not a sexist predator or not.

Nonetheless, the sun was about to fade and Rebecca and Bradin had walked in a soft silence, with only the faint crinkling of grass beneath their boots. They ascended a hill and resting at the top was a decent size tree to overlook the Northern parts of Athoria in every direction. Bradin's chest tightened once again, as memories of nights he had spent on that hill with his past wife dared to threaten his mind and cause the somewhat decent mood he had been generously placed into to become nightmarish once more. 

"I used to come here," he said aloud, not wanting to talk about the pains again, and especially to this still stranger, but deciding to indulge in the comforts of her presence anyways. He settled against the grass, stretching out his legs in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. The night air was crisp and it felt nice, and Bradin focused his gaze out onto the sun that was now beginning to descend into its own slumber. "It seems that no matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with...I am always reminded of them. Someone told me that it would get easier but it hasn't and it won't. The memories are more painful than they are a comfort. I wish I could erase them most times. Does that seem selfish?"

[il-mio-felicita-deactivated2015]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Wish I could find it in me to give a fuck.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Rosemary || I Don't Want To Speak These Words

[rosemarymclain-blog-deactivated]

“Oh I’m alright. Lately it’s been getting worse and worse but I think that’s normal.”

Rosemary tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and bit at her lower lip. After being warned to take caution with her pregnancy, it would be lying if she said that fear was the farthest thing from her mind. Every kick, twitch, and pain was a brand new experience that all of the guidance in the world could not have prepared her for. Rose had never wanted a family for herself. She had never dreamed of getting married or living in a big house with children, the very thought of such a life had be viewed as a tedious bore. To live on her own and be free to travel anywhere she wished whenever the desire occurred had always been more of an aspiration. 

To be tied down to one man and slave away for the health and happiness of young children had always seemed more of a punishment than a way of life. Yet here she was; living in a nice home, married, and expecting a child. If someone had gone back and told the young witch that this was what would become of her life she would have laughed in their face. Sometimes it was hard to believe it herself, as if her entire life had been a dream that she would one day wake from. Rubbing her eyes to see the sunlight pouring through the old windows of her cottage in Chile Village, amazed to find a years worth of events having occurred in a nights time. 

“At least, I think this is normal. To be perfectly honest I suppose I’m not even sure what normal is. I haven’t had anyone that I could talk to about this so I’ve been doing a lot of guess work when it’s come to the pregnancy. Not that it would matter much anyway. Everyone that I’ve spoken to about the child can’t seem to give me a straight answer. I guess all that I can do is wait. Wait and worry.”

Even if she had paid attention to the lessons taught to young girls when it came to raising a family, the knowledge would not have come to very much use to her. All that she knew was that something within her was effecting the baby, a strange darkness it had been called. Rosemary knew that the child’s chances of surviving were slim and that the closer she came to the nine month mark the higher her risk of complication. This is in itself was troubling, but a truth she chose to rather ignore than let torture her already fragile state of mind. She had made her decision, if she had any say in the matter her child would live. Even if that meant placing her own life in danger. 

Taking the portraits from Bradin, Rosemary smiled in amazement at his drawing of her and Emery. It looked just like them and was more than she could ever have hoped for. She traced her finger over Emery’s cheekbones and stared into the mysterious eyes of her lover. Bradin had done a magnificent job capturing the subtle emotions that always lay behind the eyes of her husband. A deep pain that never seemed to go away and the strength that carried him through life. With a soft smile she sat the image to the side and looked over a portrait of two little girls.

“They’re beautiful.”

The pain in Bradin’s voice filled her with regret for even bringing up the subject. His hazel eyes spoke volumes of hatred, anger, and sadness all rolled into one. It hurt her to see anyone like that, in a state of helplessness and depression. He wore a steady face to keep strong in front of the woman, not unlike Emery, but she could tell the incident had been a traumatic one. She had heard the cries of mothers grieving their dead children when disease swept the land or raids destroyed the villages. It had been described as the worse pain one could experience, outliving your child. She could only liken it to the pain she felt when the blood in her home had led her to believe that Emery had been killed. Everything changed after that day, even after being reunited with the vampire. Nothing would ever be the same after that moment.

“I am so sorry.” She looked down to the portrait and gave a sad smile as she slowly handed it back to the father. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. My baby…” She paused a moment reconsidering the words but decided to quietly continue, “I mean… I fear that this child will not survive. It scares me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle this or what I should do. And even if by some miracle the child does live, it will no longer be mine to keep.”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Rosemary was more of a mystery than her husband, the human presumed at that point, and considering the circumstances of Emery's nature that was saying something. Bradin pocketed the watch in his tunic and leaned back, crossing his leg over the other. The look in Rosemary's eyes was that of complete distraught, of confusion and the need for reassurance. It was a look that Bradin had witnessed his late wife produce when it had come close to her own time to give birth to their first daughter. She had been so young...not even technically a woman in the priests eyes, yet Bradin had never seen such a more loving and stronger mother than her.

"Everything will be okay Rosemary, just keep your head up and stay positive no matter the outcome of your birth. Things from here might seem odd, with the pains and the unfamiliar feelings you are experiencing, but I assure you that it is normal,"

Bradin wondered if it were okay to talk about the situation as it were when it came to Rosemary being pregnant in the first place. The human was very keen on his skills when it came to those of supernatural specie yet he was not sure the nature of Rosemary in general. Whether she were human or not, the woman was carrying a large burdon for being wed to a vampire. Especially Emery.

"May I pry into your life just a tad bit, Rose?" Bradin asked, eyes warm yet voice remaining curious without holding much restraint. "I know that this child is not Emery's and I would not dare ask of you to indulge in anything you do not wish to speak of, but what is your plan for this baby? Surely you do not intend on raising it around such a creature...I would fear for its life not only physically but mentally as it were to age. Athoria's laws on the supernatural are so strick nowadays from the King that I fear not only the child but for you as well," Bradin frowned, hoping not to have stepped over any unseen boundaries between them, but kept his gaze on that of his company.

"Forgive me for being rash, perhaps I think you just need a friend. I can help you know, with what you are going through, and maybe you can lay some of your weight down on someone who is used to carrying it,"

[justified]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

I'm bored. Entertain me.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Collette || Smashed Into Pieces

[collette-daisy-markham-blog]

She was not surprised nor disappointed, in fact the queen of vampires crossed her arms across her front & offered an intriguing glance at the mortal before her. Her eyebrows raised, as if to say, ‘are you sure?’, & once the one named Gregory fumbled his way up from the ground & staggered away from the pair, Collette rolled her eyes playfully.

“Well that was no fun. You know he will probably come after you again. Perhaps you should let me finish him off, hm? I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to your handsome face…”

The smirk remained fixated on red lips as Collette, in the literal blink of an eye, had grabbed an already damaged Gregory by the front of his jacket & slammed him hard against an opposing brick wall halfway down the ally. She lifted him easily by his collar, his feet dangled just above the ground, & Collette blinked a pair of icy blue eyes up at the man as if she were observing a genuine piece of artwork or something fascinating in general.

“You smell delicious,” fangs retracted from her upper gums as Collette’s mouth opened to reveal the monstrous incisors, the fresh smell of the alcohol lingering deep within the open wounds of Gregory as his legs flailed in every direction beneath him, perhaps in an attempt to kick the vampire holding him hostage, but to no avail. 

“Just let me go! I just want to go home!” he panicked, the mortals eyes stinging with the tears of shock & disbelief as Collette’s grasp against his attire tightened. 

It had been a long time, too long maybe, that Collette’s own inner creatures were allowed to roam free. She was old enough to tame every single urge, to sustain from giving into petty desires of her hunger or lust, or particularly her anger. Hunting was not something she participated in any longer, especially not after her several day expedition with Illythra out in the countryside, & her predator instincts were locked deep within her chest. Collette was not one to kill merciless any longer, without a liable reason…but many things had changed as of recent. 

“Why don’t I just ask your friend here?” she teased, pushing him further into the wall, sneering up at him with sarcastic venom dripping from her tongue. “He obviously wants you dead. You obviously don’t deserve to live. So what shall it be, mortal? Do you need a lady to finish the job for you?” her eyes flickered over to the man, a flirtatious grin remaining plastered against her face.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

"You're a vampire,"

The statement was dumbly exhaled from cautious lips and Bradin breathed in extremely deep. He wasn't sure if he felt exacerbated by the site of such a beauitful woman in the form of his most hated specie or if he was relieved to be freed from the disastrous decision of killing Gregory himself. Blood dripped from the sharp fangs of this mysterious woman as her grin tickled at a sensitive spot inside of his chest. Those eyes...they were mesmerizing and the brightest blue that Bradin had ever seen. They were hypnotic, even amiss a blood thirsty state of mind while holding Gregory hostage against the wall.

"What does it matter what I want? In the end you will do as you wish; all of your kind are the same like that. Mostly arrogant and self-righteous, from what I've gathered. You aren't my first run in with a pair of fangs, m'lady. So why don't you just do whatever it is that you do best," 

Bradin's voice remained decently steady and lacked the normal sarcasm that laced his own words most of the times, his natural defense mechanism. Vampires were a specie that the mortal had unfortunately had more than enough contact with, probably more than any average Athorian...he was lucky to still be alive, after all, and he knew that all too well. It agitated him to no end knowing that there would always be a more dominate creature than himself. But such was life, he concluded. This woman was no different than Michael or Emery, or Calvin or Clove when it came down to it. Bradin was surprised there wasn't a war between those of similar species, particularly the vampires. With their self-proclaimed grace and higher standards, shouldn't they all want to be in charge at some point?

It was an interesting thought and Bradin decided to ponder on it later. Gregory's eyes silently begged Bradin for his protection and safety, yet Bradin was having a hard time at giving a fuck all of a sudden.

He shrugged and crossed his arms across his chest, his own hazel eyes latching onto those brilliant orbs of the woman. "Gregory is a nuisance and an asshole, but I wouldn't want to wish death upon anyone. At least I don't think," he paused for a moment, recalling the horrid feelings of absolute destruction that he had wanted to bestow upon Gregory just moments before. They still bubbled somewhere underneath of his skin, taunting him to release some sort of unmorality.

Bradin's lips curled into a cocky grin. "Come on then, entertain a mortal,"

[chellbr]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

It'd be nice to not think about you today.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Rosemary || I Don't Want To Speak These Words

[rosemarymclain-blog-deactivated]

“Thank you, and welcome. I’m so happy that you’ve come. To be perfectly honest I’ve been a bit lonesome with Emery gone and I have so been looking forward to seeing the drawing you’ve been working on.”

Rosemary nervously tugged at her hair as she gave the room a quick once over, seeing to it that every item was in its rightful place. A much easier chore with Emery off on his errands and Lark out adventuring. She loved the pair to death but they had absolutely no understanding of how to pick up after themselves, a rather irritating habit. After several more paranoid glances about the home, the woman sighed with content and looked back to the never disappointing appearance of Bradin. His eyes held such kindness and understanding. Not once did those hazel orbs dart away in embarrassment of her state. He did not cringe, or snicker, or even fight to ignore her. The man simply accepted her for how she was in that moment which had been quite a refreshing change compared to her husband’s behaviour on the matter.

With shy smile, she led the man further into her home and offered him one of the more comfortable seats in the sitting room while she herself sat opposite. A fire roared in the fireplace and warmed the two as they settled down into the cozy atmosphere. Although Rosemary had never been one to lounge for an extended period of time, she found that with her body bordering the line of exhaustion and the comfort of the bookish surroundings she could kick back and lay in this room for hours. Taking in a deep breath of the warm air she relaxed a bit and turned her full attention to Bradin and the drawing in his hand. Her face immediately lit up with excitement as she gave a little gasp. 

“Wonderful! I’ve been wanting to see this for so long that I’m almost afraid to look.” She admitted, toying with the sleeve of her dress.

Her features grew more somber however as she realized where she had left Emery’s locket. In her night stand, which currently resided at the far end of the long hall at the very top of the stairs. Green eyes hesitantly trailed back to the dreaded path up the steps and she sighed, blowing a lock of her curly hair up out of her face before looking back to Bradin with a sad but good humored grin. Nodding her head with determination, Rosemary struggled back up to her feet only to be greeted with another sharp pain. It stabbed into her lower back and twisted at her side. She gave a small cry and held her stomach, sinking back down into the chair with a blush of embarrassment. However, after a sharp breath the pain subsided and Rosemary shook her head with a laugh.

“I’m sorry.. ” Giving up on the trek up the staircase, she went ahead and relaxed in her chair. Not wanting to move anymore than she had to. “The baby has been moving so much lately.”

She lifted her hand to her stomach and gently rubbed back and forth over the lump  in an attempt to sooth the squirming child. “You don’t seem to be too put off by all of this. Do you have children? I’m afraid that I don’t know much about you Bradin.”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

The state in which Rosemary seemed to be experiencing pain came as an unexpected yet assumed situation due to the nature of her pregnancy, and he remembered vividly the way his wife would complain about the most silliest of things when she, herself, was carrying an extra weight within her. She had been young and although they had both been prepared for the life of children and everything that came with being a parent, Bradin hadn't been more scared in his life.

He was concerned, of course, and it showed on his face as he watched the woman struggle back into her chair. His alertness when it came to any woman in her current state was noticeable and the man sat up straighter with hazel eyes watching her features as Rosemary relaxed against the soft cushions.

"Are you okay? Have the pains been coming more recently?" he questioned, memory resorting back to years prior when overcoming the same obstacle. He wished to avoid his past when it came to most people, not just Rosemary in particular, but perhaps this circumstance was the exception he was looking for.

"I had children, yes," Bradin set his lips in a fine line and strummed his fingers together as his forearms rested upon his knees. Talking about the family he had that was stripped from him overnight was never easy, and the small silence that settled between Bradin and Rosemary was explicit with curisoity. No, he did not know anything about this woman either except what he could assume from the placement of her home and who she was wed to. He knew she was not of Emery's specie nor another specie that exposed themselves due to the color of their eyes. Bradin prided himself in his knowledge for supernaturals yet wished he didn't know everything that he did. And if Rosemary was nothing that he had eliminated then he only imagined her heart was as kind as the way her eyes radiated against the crackling fire, and how somehow, even in her messy state and pained apperance, she still made Bradin feel something unfamiliar.

"I always wanted to be a father, have a family, be the working man who provided, lived in a decent home, was able to protect the ones I loved from the horrors in this country," he rubbed a hand down his growing beard and watched the fire behind Rosemary as it danced, "I married young, we had two children by the time I was twenty-one, two little girls," he pulled out an object from his pocket then, a watch that opened similar to a locket that held a drawn portrait on the one side. Bradin held it out to Rose for her to take.

"There was a fire one night four years ago," he paused, breathed in deep yet keep his eyes pinned on the woman sitting before him. He didn't mean to turn the conversation to something solemn but it was his story, and people were always curious. He understood that, and as much as Bradin wished to rid his past away forever he knew he would need to stay strong in honor of their remembrance. He sighed, "they didn't make it,"

[loveyouandthem]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Turn my swag on.

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Collette || Smashed Into Pieces

[collette-daisy-markham-blog]

Oh the smell of mortal blood; divine and disgustingly fantastic against enhanced senses. It teased at the hunger urges inside of an elder body even to that day, the want to shove the attractive man off of the helpless frame of the drunkard on the ground & lap at the blood protruding from the crevasses on his face was tempting. If she could have a taste before he died then the blood would be worth sucking dry from underneath of his skin, & perhaps she’d be able to gather a small taste of the ale he had consumed moments or hours prior. How she missed the taste of cheap alcohol…

Collette could only watch in both admiration & entrancement as she watched this man slam fist after fist against broken cheekbones & shattered eye sockets. She wondered what in the world could posses such wonderfully sadistic feelings to erupt in mortal men to cause the humans to act out the way they sometimes did around the country. With other supernaturals Collette understood completely; sometimes they did not have a choice as the transformation from man to specie collected unseen & unknown forces to seep into their minds. But what was it that caused mortal man to turn into something evil, something intriguing to an old queen that, while watching this man unleash a fury, was unraveling a demonic attractiveness of her own.

He didn’t hear her approaching from behind him, perhaps wrapped up in whatever it was that was possesing his mind at that moment while he reached for his knife. Collette held a simple grin against red lips as she continued for the bloody pair, catching his uneven & wispy breathe that emitted from his chest & how the emotions that radiated off of his body were of pure revenge.

Revenge? Interesting.

She wanted to watch him kill the drunk; she wanted to see the flicker of hatred in his eyes when he slid the blade across his throat only to be further coated in the crimson that would spray from the incision. She wanted to know if he could actually do it or not, for if he could kill a man simply out of a revenge being a mortal who knew what other repressed emotions he was hiding underneath of that pretty skin, & how incredibly useful they could be to her.

“Well go on,” 

The mans eyes reflected surprise as Collette simply stepped around the drunk to stand near his top nonchalantly, as if she naturally belonged there. The drunk on the ground squirmed in disapproval yet Collette’s gaze was more attracted to the scruffy man standing over him with the knife. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? This is why you followed him. Come on, entertain me. I love to watch the life fade from their eyes,”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

It was exactly one minute that Bradin stood there blinking at the most beauitful woman he had ever seen in his life. One minute and Bradin's chest heaved up and down slowly and noticeably as he stood with bloodied fists of his own dripping down the handle of the knife in his hands. One minute and Gregory's moans beneath him on the dirt were nothing more than an echo against Bradin's ears, something that seemed far away and unimportant. One minute and Bradin's hazel eyes latched onto the clearest blue, bright crystals that, against a dark night, glimmered mysteriously and exotically.

His immediate reaction of surprisal was disintegrated after that long minute of contemplation. Although every part of him wished to know why such a breathtaking woman of obvious higher social status was lingering unguarded in a back ally of Night Haven, Bradin assumed that it could wait. 

Breaking his contact from the entrancement of the woman, Bradin gazed back down at Gregory. He was a bloody pulp, with a face that was split open in every direction and liquid that seeped from every orifice. It was a wonder that Bradin could extract such damage to another person but that feeling of hatred that rested angriliy inside of his stomach was not planning on making an exit anytime soon. It begged the mortal to finish the job, to entertain this woman as she requested. 

Yet Bradin could only stand, with fists shaking slightly as the moral decision to leave Gregory alone to bleed in the ally and simply walk away, or to put his fate in his own hands and slit his throat without regret.

The knife dropped from Bradin's hand. "I can't," and he stepped away, the strange feeling of cowardliness resting now upon his stern shoulders. Would he ever be more than a simple human being in Athoria? Or would he forever be just a painter, a good man who drank a little too much at times...the man who lost everything, including who he was, in the fire four years ago. Would he ever seek revenge? 

"Go, Gregory. Next time I won't stop," 

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Bradin & Calvin || The Last Stop

[calvin-sorrevillo-athorian-deac]

Calvin noticed how Bradin never really asked for details about his life. He wasn’t surprised at all, considering the human’s obvious dislike of any supernatural beings. But he did appreciate the human’s thought of talking with his costumers as it distracted them from the pain of his persistent needles. Calvin actually enjoyed the pain of this process, it seemed to relax him every time he underwent it. This was the largest piece he’d gotten, over 3 times larger than the rest of his pieces combined.

“I went to one of Lilith’s shows a few weeks ago. She’s a bit… eccentric. I do enjoy your work. If I had friends, I would recommend it to them. As it is… I believe you already know my main friend.” he said self-derisively. “He owns Thirst.” he said, not remembering if he’d mentioned it before. “Not that we are currently speaking. It seems that females come between friends far to often.” he muttered, making a slight face. “I don’t actually know if he knows about her yet, she was supposed to talk to him about it. But last time I saw her was a couple weeks ago.” he added.

Calvin wasn’t sure why he was talking about this. Especially as he knew that it was very likely that Michael knew Bradin, and he didn’t want Michael finding out about him and Collette before Collette got a chance to talk to Michael. Calvin turned his head to look back at Bradin. “Do me a favor and don’t mention that to Michael, please. I don’t really want him finding out from someone else.” he requested, his tone completely nonthreatening. “I could give you a little extra coin for it if you like.”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

It was interesting to hear that even amongst a higher species that the drama between friends, relationships, and females in general were still amidst. To Bradin that seemed like such a mortal issue, considering most supernaturals in Athoria were immortal and could initially have a different mate every century or so. With his own human status, it wasn't exactly that convienent.

"Oh, well that seems like a problem," Bradin said, continuing his work and shifting in his chair. "You won't need to worry about me saying anything, and no extra coin for leverage is required Calvin, that I can assure you. What is said in my building stays in my building, unless of course someone wants to kill me then I make no guarantees,"

He chuckled, shaking his head and becoming more and more amused with the fact that a specie such as Calvin would have such petty problems. Weren't there better things to worry about then holding a grudge against a best mate because of some woman? Stakes to the heart? Vampire hunters? The King crashing down and causing raids again?

"Unfortunately I'm sure my advice will be laughable. I met my wife when I was just fourteen and married her when we were of age. She was the only woman in my life, the only one I loved. Nowadays the females that come around are of nothing important, entertainment mostly, in a respectable manner of course. Yet I steer clear of the ones that are already betrothed. There are a lot of angry, drunk men in Athoria that would not think twice about taking swings at this handsome face. Maybe you should just bow out...sounds too complicated anyway. Who wants to deal with that when there are much problems in the world right now?"

The man let a silence come between them, as minutes ticked by and Bradin moved on to the next piece of his work against Calvin's skin.

[wisteria-scoher]

Portraiture||Bradin&Wisteria

[wisteria-scoher]

Giddy with satisfaction, she paid him the price he’d asked, though she was left with the want to give him more. Surely such a piece deserved much more than what he’d received. She eyed the portrait, silently wondering if she could carry the whole thing back to her home. Suddenly, her image on such a big surface seemed less of a good idea, especially if there would be other eyes watching it. She felt too shy, too insecure. Really, she’d been more curious as to how he’d capture her image, what technique he’d use and if she’d recognize the result as the girl she saw in the mirror everyday.

Her thoughts stopped to a halt and  she’d realised that he had said something. “It certainly would be lovely to see you again. It’s all the same to me really, though I do think we’ll cross paths again eventually. Call it a woman’s instinct.” Walking up to the portrait, she took it with two hands carefully, watching out so she wouldn’t damage the paint. 

“Hm? Oh, dear. It’s gotten quite late already, hasn’t it?” Winny sent him a guilt stricken look, knowing far too well what lingered in the night. She’d experienced it far too much herself, and she wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. Especially not on someone friendly like the man who’d been so kind as to paint her. “You know what? It’s not that far from my shop, I could show you the way if you’d like.”

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Any remaining part of Bradin that was the flirtatious skirt-chasing boy was awestruck at the request for him to stay in Wisteria's shop, and he raised his eyebrows curiously at her as he packed the last bit of belongings onto his cart. It seemed careless to allow a stranger refuge, but given the circumstance Bradin would have probably done the same thing. It showed another side of her, actually, a side that ripped the innocence from large chestnut eyes and replaced it with the history of being...hurt? Perhaps. He decided then that she was braver than she appeared.

"That would be wonderful actually," Bradin said with a smile, boyish grin returning to handsome features once more. There truly were a handful of genuinely nice people in Athoria, odd specie or not, and Bradin was lucky to come across only a handful of those that wished to hurt him. Those memories were never pleasent to remember but they were haunting at times. Still, it was not enough to drive to man away from his homeland and his country, from a King that was barely protecting them and of course a sweet soul like Wisteria's.

Pulling the cart behind him, Wisteria lead him past the large fountain in the middle of the capital and towards her weaving shop. The creative side of Bradin was looking forward to seeing the different things the young girl was able to make. 

"So tell me something interesting about yourself. And no, I don't mean which type of fabric is your favorite or how often you wash your hair," Bradin grinned as they walked. "Tell me something...different. Something you don't tell too often to people," he glanced down at her, "Here, I'll start. Are you ready? Once I was attacked by a vampire, do you believe in that sort of thing? But here's the interesting part..." he paused for a moment, "...another one saved me from it. Strangest thing I've ever seen,"

[basiccoffee]

[bradin-perkins-blog]

Get at me.