.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

[coffinled]

────────      𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙻𝙴𝙳      :       bleeding  hearts,  and  dry  bones  of  the  churchyard,  and  tears  that  burn  as  they  fall,  all  dance  together  to   the  music  that  he  make  with  that  smileless  mouth  of  him.  ah,  we  are  like  ropes   drawn  tight  with  strain  that  pull  us  different  ways. 〃 blog for @ fangtv.

ִֶָ࣪☾.  ⁰¹. 𝗮𝗿𝗷𝘂𝗻𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘵𝘢    .   .   .    36/652.  they+them.  vampire matriach.   dev patel.                           ›       intro.            threads.          musings. ִֶָ࣪☾.  ⁰¹. 𝗸𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢    .   .   .    33/75.  she+her.  merfolk siren.   baifern pimchanok.                           ›       intro.            threads.          musings.

[doeherd]

⋆ ⋆      𝗮𝗿𝗷𝘂𝗻  ,    @coffinled after hours       . 

She  could  still  smell  the  smoke.  A  severing  of  ties,  all  threads  cut  loose.  Now,     it  feels  like  a  century.   Years  -  deep,  this  wound.  Her  heart  is  still  unable  to  comprehend  how  to  piece  itself  back  together.         The  nights  come  and  they  leave  her  the  bones  of  other  rituals   ⸻   dreams  that  feel  like  memories.              Like  a  reaper,   a  snakeskin  -  keeper,  she  is  neither  here  nor  gone.  The  owner  of  After  Hours  offered  little  information  regarding  the  vampire  world  of  politics  and  terror.  Zoya  remained  professionally  curt  with  them,  elusive  if  not  on  the  emotional  boundaries  of  anger  and  swallowed  fear.     “   I’ll  be  working  the  rest  of  the  week,  the  clients  tend  to  want  their  futures  spilled  no  matter  what  day  of  the  week.  “     She  greets  them  with  a  nod  of  polite  acknowledgement,  feigned  almost  to  perfection.   She  turns  back  to  organizing  her  tarot  cards,  the  magic  crackling  underneath  her  fingertips  at  the  presence  of  a  vampire.   Something  involuntary,  perhaps.       “   What  about  you,   hm?      Have you had any  curiosities  on  seeing your  fate?  “ 

[coffinled]

truthfully, arjun doesn't recall the exact reason they allowed a witch into their business. however, a witch to the side was always better than one behind. though ... they were masters in drifting out of sight. an admiration of sorts stemmed from arjun in the past: the stain of the hunt passed from generation to generation. those who knew did not experience and those who did were, mostly, long below. to carry history through bloodline and soul ... something immortals could never know. perhaps that's why: a fondness of sorts. however, it could only go so far and they trusted her no further.

they raise two fingers in a blasé greeting, moving to seat themselves. the air shifts. just slightly, to the left ... they hum. " my fate ? " arjun repeats, gazing down at the cards becoming aligned. they, too, hold their own sort of allure as all things magical and spiritual. it's as if belief is crying out; yearning for an age long passed⸻ or perhaps they're bored and create delusions out of fucking paper. " i think if i had interest in hearing a deck of cards declare my soul destined for eternal, fiery purgatory, i'd refer to another stack of paper. " a shake of their head to punctuate their claim. arjun begins to rustle about the bar, searching for a case of cigars they'd stashed. " tell me, if you're keen to talk about your findings, zoya. have you read your own ? or a vampire's before ? "

[coffinled]

WHERE . . . after hours. WHEN . . . the slowest night of the week.

after hours was created with one purpose and one purpose only⸻ oversee the vampric population of lefleur. the revelation had set a flame within the center of a long dead chest. eyes which were never threats before suddenly blaring orange: a predator to a predator, a danger to a danger. it only felt natural to create a controlled space; a sanction which arjun alone could step inside and trust their nature to stay concealed. to a degree, at least. they couldn't shake the sensation of traitors amongst vampires: the greed for miracle blood, the reality of a dog eating other dog ... no where would ever truly be safe again.

and safety, yes even now, quivered as @deadhymn came down the stairs to the pit of the bar. arjun spares but a glance upward. the familiarity of presence and footfall alone revealing to them his identity. " ah, viktor ... vik ! it's been a minute. " they say with a sudden cheeriness which chills rather than warms. hands clasp together in front to add towards the anachronism. " at last you remember i exist. it's been ... weeks, has it not ? " a friend of a friend, a foe of a foe ... arjun wasn't quite sure where to play viktor rousseau. at best they would remember their order and the first place they'd met. and that is exactly what they do : begin preparing his drink as if second nature. " i hope it wasn't my drinks. you know i'm running out of new hobbies to try after so many years. "

[coffinled]

WHERE . . . their residence. WHEN . . . just before midnight.

" don't lie right to my face, pear. " her gaze has yet to wander, but once it does she looks to @pathshroud with a churn of of disdain. it doesn't take long for her to turn that gaze into action. snapping to attention on both feet, she stomps over towards her similar, warped mirror image and snatches her keys. " you're tired. you can take a break ... i haven't seen you miss a singular day since we got here. like, actually, take a break. " the keys dance between her fingers as she shuffles back. " what, afraid i blew all my money ? "

[creekfms]

status.  open location.  the  bayou time.  right  after  the  sun  set  &  the  moon  went  up 

a  liar  always  needs  a  cover.  that's  why  zion  had  a  towel  thrown  around  his  shoulder  and  a  pair  of  swimming  trunks  packed  in  his  bag.  even  though  he  was  clad  in  all  black  from  head  to  toe.  he  had  been  collecting  herbs  for  a  spell,  but  he'd  claim  they  were  for  tea.  no  matter  that  he  was  nowhere  near  the  actual  water  and  was  heading  in  the  wrong  direction.  when  he  heard  something  crunch  behind  him,  he  stood  up  and  turned  away  from  the  bush.  a  charming  smile  plastered  across  his  face  and  he  waved  over  at  their  direction.  “  hey  there.  i  reckon  this  place  is  like  a  maze.  even  if  i  was  born  and  raised.  ”  zion  snickered  softly,  scratching  his  neck  with  his  left  hand.  “  are  you  on  your  way  to  the  water  ?  ” 

[coffinled]

" am i going the wrong way ? " she asks immediately, her eyes shooting towards the path which draws her. the water in the bayou may not be the same as the deep of her home, but it's close enough to quiet ... a part of her which screams. still, kore could admit this place tripped even her up⸻ no. she'd never admit it aloud, only to herself. she blinks and gives off a small scoff as she returns to look at him. the attire registers all at once: all black, a bag, a towel, dirt on his hands. this was not typically the look someone on their way to the water. he could be and entirely be eccentric or ... whatever else land dwellers were, but still she hums, curious. following is a feigned need: " you won't let me get lost, right? "

[creekfms]

status.  open location.  crossroads  motel  time.  almost  midnight 

the  motel  was  no  longer  his  home.  niccolo  needed  to  find  a  place  of  his  own  if  he  was  going  to  be  the  face  of  the  fellowship.  still,  he  had  a  tradition  to  stop  on  by  every  now  and  then.  the  hunter  had  stashed  a  couple  of  weapons  around  the  area  for  others  to  secretly  find.  some  of  the  rooms  were  also  used  to  pass  messages  along.  so,  he  was  strolling  through  the  parking  lot  and  taking  a  glance  of  everything.  up  until  he  spotted  someone  he  didn't  expect  to  see.  “  isn't  it  a  little  late  to  be  out  alone  ?  ”  he  squinted,  even  though  he  was  able  to  see  just  fine.  then,  he  chuckled  softly,  realizing  he  didn't  have  any  company  either.  “  i'm  heading  out  soon  if  you  need  a  ride  somewhere.  ”  he  pointed  over  to  his  car  at  the  end  of  the  lot.

[coffinled]

the night has long been arjun's friend. before even their blood went silent and their home buried the night offered a gentle calm. it never bothered them, no, even in more dysfunctional times and dread. someone would expect a tragedy at night; most feared the dark alley over the dimly lit one. to expect is to accept. they've long accepted. so when a voice rings and it's question is laughable, arjun does laugh and pause on the draw of a cigarillo. " first you open with bad irony and then follow it with ... a gesture of blind kindness. " they gesture with the smoking end towards the car, " i can't tell which of us is suppose to be the stupid one. me, who could say yes or you who asked. " another laugh escapes laced in that woodsy aroma. " you have to agree it's ridiculous, right ? "

[coffinled]

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓.          ✞          「        the harsh,  brisk air wafting from the sea;  it burns your eyes as much as it brings you closer to nature,  eyes sharper than a knife,  predatory but gleaming like a jewel,  staring long enough at your reflection until it warps and twists to a form you hardly remember,  trembling vocal cords with the strain of a note lost to grief; you aren't sure when it left you.    」          cis woman.   she+her.   ╱   now   nobody   in   lafleur   is   saying   KORE ASPARA AMATAYAKUL  is   trouble,   but   nobody's   exactly   rushin'   to   defend   them   either.   folks   have   been   talkin'   about   the   33  75   year   old   unemployed ex-opera singer   since   the   day   they   rolled   into   town.   seems   there's   always   some   new   story   about   how   they're   allegedly   a   merfolk   and   have   been   here   for   three years.   i   don't   put   much   stock   in   every   rumor   that   floats   through   this   shithole,   but   with   a  independent,   beguiling   &   amorous   reputation   like   theirs,   something   tells   me   we   only   scratched   the   surface   of   the   BAIFERN PIMCHANOK   wannabe's   story.

⁰¹. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

birth name ⸻ aspara amatayakul . nickname ⸻ kore, introduced as to everyone, ara, close friends . species ⸻ merfolk siren . dob ⸻ october 1st . zodiac ⸻ libra . age ⸻ thirty-three, seventy-five . gender ⸻ cis woman . pronouns ⸻ she/her . sexuality ⸻ demisexual . relationship status ⸻ single . family ⸻ pear morakot (twin), younger sister deceased , a colony from the gulf of thailand . occupation ⸻ currently unemployed, former opera singer .

⁰². 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

height ⸻ 5'5" . hair color ⸻ black . eye color ⸻ a dark, murky blue . build ⸻ lithe and athletic.

⁰³. 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐄

postive traits ⸻ independent + amorous + extroverted . negative traits ⸻ beguiling + spiteful + selfish . alignment ⸻ true neutral . temperment ⸻ choleric - sanguine. virtues ⸻ chasity / charity / temperance / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice . sins ⸻ lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath .

⁰⁴. 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐏,

in her late twenties, kore convinced her surviving sibling to become land dwelling. a violent inner divide within her colony and its neighboring one sprung forth, claiming the life of her younger sister in its height. although the event left her shaken and erratic, she also saw this as her only opportunity to escape the overarching claw of her mother's control. to land kore took herself and her sibling, looking to create a life separate of the pod's worsening turmoil. kore traveled with their sibling for a handful of years, attempting to figure out proper life in the world of mortals ( and come to find out, more ). kore took to it well, finding herself enjoying attention and intrigue she brought with allure. in fact, she found the interaction and social aspect to be exhilarating and once she realized she could make a career off her voice later in life ... she did despite all the warning signs. a respectable career took off for her overseas under a fellow merfolk entertainment proprietor on land; a marketed woman with a haunting voice and face you'd die for. and die many ended up doing in small throes, victims of the lullaby of old legend. those who did not succumb were obsessed with kore, that haunting image in their hallucinations, and it became threatening to her. the backlash of a mermaid's song was never quite talked about enough and how dangerous it could be to have multiple affected persons. it quickly became dangerous. once again, kore was forced to flee, abetted by her sibling, and thus she landed in lafleur.

⁰⁵. 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒,

⸻ THE SONG, kore never exactly felt guilt over those affected by her voice. in fact she at first couldn't help but to find it a bit amusing how quickly most succumbed. this, never spoke aloud, but true. her actions aren't intentional, she just struggles to find herself fully involved. it is her nature, she enjoys her singing and her voice. however, since her departure from the stage kore has not sang again. perhaps this is her guilt manifesting or a quiet fear in threatening her safety again. she hasn't admitted this either.

⸻ LAFLEUR, the last place she had ever wanted to end up, however she is making the most of it ... kind of. compared to bigger cities ad coastlines with stretching blue seas, lafleur is a speck on the map. kore's favorite thing has been the state's rich atmosphere and festivals outside of the town. at almost three years, she has finally began to settle and accept that she's safest here.

⸻ THE REVELATION, the revelation of vampires has kore intrigued by the reasoning behind it. however, she doesn't necessarily think its a bad choice. predators are known of in the grass in form of snakes, in the tundra as wolves, in the forests as bears ... the neighborhood vampire should be known. while she doesn't believe all vampires, or any supernatural, to be dangerous in personality or intent ... she knows herself and her apathy towards mortals. in turn, she knows how mortals are scared of anything stronger than them. she takes a neutral stance and keeps herself even quieter now regarding her own.

⁰⁶. 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒,

[coffinled]

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓.          ✞          「    heavy,  cigar-scented laughs carrying across a recently emptied bar,  a voice carrying wisdom but not without its biases and clear emotional ties towards the knowledge; years of memories bleeding with too strong of an opinion and with it the matters of heart,  blood stains well hidden in the dark of a dress shirt; teeth long licked clean and a smile left in the wake of a fainting body; the body is more inviting than the smile,  the protective shadow over their own turned haunting figure at the hint of betrayal.    」          agender.   they/them.   ╱   now   nobody   in   lafleur   is   saying   ARJUN MEHTA   is   trouble,   but   nobody's   exactly   rushin'   to   defend   them   either.   folks   have   been   talkin'   about   the   thirty-six / six hundred and fifty-two   year   old   owner of after hours  & vampire monarch of lousiana   since   the   day   they   rolled   into   town.   seems   there's   always   some   new   story   about   how   they're   allegedly   a   vampire   and   have   been   here   for   long than anybody realizes.   i   don't   put   much   stock   in   every   rumor   that   floats   through   this   shithole,   but   with   a   dramatic,   caustic   &   protective   reputation   like   theirs,   something   tells   me   we   only   scratched   the   surface   of   the   DEV PATEL   wannabe's   story.

⁰¹. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

birth name ⸻ long left behind . current alias ⸻ arjun mehta . species ⸻ vampire . dob ⸻ 1374, will claim April 16th . age ⸻ thirty-six, six hundred and fifty-two. gender ⸻ agender. pronouns ⸻ they/them . sexuality ⸻ bisexual . relationship status ⸻ single . family ⸻ lourenço castro, maker. three long dead younger brothers. occupation ⸻ owner of after hours . status ⸻ vampire monarch of louisiana .

⁰². 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

height ⸻ 6 ' 2" . hair color ⸻ black . eye color ⸻ brown, almost black . build ⸻ slender and lightly muscled .

⁰³. 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐄

positive traits ⸻ protective + observant + quick-witted . negative traits ⸻ dramatic + caustic + distrusting . alignment ⸻ neutral evil . temperment ⸻ choleric-melancholic. virtues ⸻ chasity / charity / temperance / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice . sins ⸻ lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath .

⁰⁴. 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐏,

a once feeble hearted mortal, turned by their maker under the guise of great purpose; a false promise to be something greater than a aimless traveler in the midst of india's turmoil in the 1400s. as all things go, it was too good to be true. arjun became a subject of prolific exploitations and going against the balancing rules of the vampire authority. targeting of fellow vampires, other supernaturals and harmful use of mortals. through sheer wit and eventual allyship with members of the council once they'd sailed to america, arjun managed to usurper their maker and convince the council of his wrongdoings. however, justice is not clean and arjun has been left permanently shifted by the means in which they'd outsmarted their maker. mimicking the ideal progeny and right hand man comes with scars and a disillusion of the self over years. trust comes slow, if at all and their idea of protection is often seen as overbearing and erratic due to fear of betrayal.

⁰⁵. 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒,

⸻ THE MONARCH, they were considered by the authority for lousiana due to their feat over their master and how closely arjun worked with council heads. it wasn't arjun's first decision and they were hesitant to take a position further than, that they'd consider, eyes on the ground ... but they were convinced due to enjoyment of the state. they've overseen louisiana for a total of thirty years following the destruction of the previous monarch.

⸻ LAFLEUR, they have been a constant come-and-goer within this specific town. due to their position they attempt to make an appearance across multiple cities, trying to maintain a presence towards other vampires. it wasn't until the great revelation that they settled within this town. ⸻ THE REVELATION, arjun was against it and they find the themselves further disturbed. a sense of control has been taken away from them and floods into threatening their agency. in retaliation, they established the dive meant for vampires: afterhours, on a whim. their first operator was their own progeny, but since then they've opened more to other vampires to assist in running it.

⸻ THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE SUN, the very thing they'd fretted about; the threat of safety and agency. it was only a matter of time. if inner-species turmoil was potential, of course mortal turmoil would be. they've become increasingly paranoid in the following years due to the whispers of formations and interact cautiously with those not within their circle.

⸻ MORE TBA.

⁰⁶. 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒,

[maidavika]

✿

[freakytikigifs]

Dev Patel as Kid

MONKEY MAN