Baby, dolls kill...

I learned the need for a quiet mouth long before I learned what to say with it. I learned the use of sharp teeth long before I learned how to bite. I learned how to survive before I learned I was not meant to. —Pavana Reddy

[nakatomi-ayumu]

Ayumu watched the vampiress get down to feeding. There was a beauty in the carnality of it, there always had been, and that was why Ayumu enjoyed vampires so much. They were as close to animals as the other supernaturals species could be, something that Ayumu could relate to.

The spirit's gaze was transfixed on Gloria, but their animals senses meant that their ears were keeping track of the sounds around them just like a fox would. The sounds of the impending zombies still put them at a comfortable enough distance away, but what Ayumu had not anticipated (and they really should have) was hunters. Those bastards moved much to quietly that even their keener senses could not fully pick up.

This hunter, a single one, thank fuck, crept up on them and pounced as Gloria was still feeding, lunging straight for her and it was only through Ayumu's reflexes that they managed to draw their katana in the split second before it reached the vampire to slice the blade into its side, throwing it off course.

"Gloria!" Ayumu called out as the hunter tumbled to the side, but it made a swift enough recovery to land on it's feet, the sword not slowing it down one bit. "It's here for the human! Leave him!" Zombies were not attracted to vampires or spirits after all, and this still alive but just barely human was still drawing his last gasps of air.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria didn’t hear her name. If the sound reached her at all, it arrived stripped of meaning, swallowed by the rush of blood flooding her mouth. The human’s pulse stuttered beneath her grip, erratic now, each beat weaker than the last, and she chased it instinctively, mouth sealed to his arm as if proximity alone could keep it going. The sharp ache of hunger she’d carried for days collapsed inward all at once, replaced by a dizzying warmth that left no room for thought.

Something slammed into the space beside her but it barely registered as more than a threat to her meal. The man convulsed weakly beneath her and she tightened her hold without thinking, pinning him harder against the concrete, a low, feral sound tore loose from her throat around the mouthful of blood she refused to relinquish.

[beckdean]

Beck does her best to hide the way Gloria’s unspoken threat makes her heart pause. Her jaw tightens as she forces the tension down, reminding herself that things are different in this world. Here, she’s at full strength - even if that strength comes with rather poor control. They’re an even match. Or, at least, the wolf might have a fighting chance.

So she doesn’t respond. Instead, she folds her arms across her chest, as though the gesture alone might make her look stronger, bolder.

Beck's eyes narrow at Gloria's quick retort, every inch of distaste channeled into the look she casts her. Perhaps the vampire was right, though. Her avoidance of exposure or accepting who she is has also led to ignorance, while doing little to protect herself from the supernatural world she'd wanted little to do with. "I do pay attention More than you think."

After a moment of hesitation, Beck turns to face the vampire fully, swallowing a sliver of pride as she, ignoring the insult thrown her way. "You know a lot. About... well, everything. How did you figure this whole... thing out?" Surely if she was a vampire, she was bitten, just like Beck was. Forced into this world, rather than born. Beck doesn't like her - but, maybe she could try to learn from her. Between the snide comments, of course. "Or, are you just too afraid to tell me?"

Then, the anger comes. As quickly there as it was gone. Beck stares down at her trembling hands for a moment, the outline of her fingers seeming to blur as she attempts to find focus. Calm - more difficult to obtain with the faint buzz of the alcohol seeming to egg her on, to blur her control.

When she turns back to Gloria, she soon sees it. The way her body seems to freeze in position, the fear in her eyes. Despite Beck's clear dislike of the vampire, there's something about the image of her terrified stare that breaks something in her resolve.

"I- I am so sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to- I wouldn't hurt you." The words are hurried, desperate, pleading with Gloria to believe her - to wipe that fear away, even if she was the cause of it. Because if Gloria is afraid of her - Gloria who would stand a chance of fighting her off, who had clearly seen horrors Beck can only imagine - then what does that make her?

A monster.

She had to correct that, she had to. "Please. Please believe me." She knows she sounds pathetic, knows that she shouldn't care what Gloria thinks of her at all - but this mistake she needs to fix, somehow.

Beck leans back against the icy wall, leaning her head back and exhaling as she cools the adrenaline in her veins. Fighting her muscles to relax, her heart to slow. She only catches it from the corner of her eye, that tear, the hand that reaches up to brush it away. Perhaps Gloria had something human still in her, after all.

"Okay, then, you didn't come alone." Her tone makes it clear she doesn't believe it, as she turns back towards Gloria. She doesn't press the issue, though. Instead, she continues to observe her, saddened eyes following the side profile of her face, the way her breathing still hitches every few seconds. "Your make up looks pretty perfect to me." She adds evenly.

Beck allows a few beats of silence to pass between them, calming the rhythm of her own breathing. Slowly, she reaches out a hand, extending it to rest on the vampire's shoulder softly, just for a moment.

She's not sure why she does it. Half awaits the moment Gloria will shrug her away. Maybe she's still drunk. Maybe it's an apology. But, it feels like the right thing to do, somehow, in some way. "You're not alone in here, anyway." The words are quiet, tentative - and Beck is prepared for the snarky response, not caring if that's what is thrown her way in return.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria scoffs softly at Beck’s insistence, eyes rolling skywards before she looks away again. “Of course you do,” she mutters sarcastically, already halfway done with the conversation. Beck’s question almost draws a real answer from her, but then the wolf decides to taunt her and whatever fragile opening had been there snaps shut. Gloria’s jaw tightens. “It’s none of your business,” she cuts in, sharper than she means to be, and then Beck is moving, flaring, too fast—

—and even once it's over, Gloria remains frozen. She still can’t look at her. Not when Beck’s voice breaks pitifully, not when her apologies spill out raw and frantic, colliding headfirst with Gloria's deepest fear—a trauma only buried but never addressed. Her gaze stays fixed on the ice, breath uneven, until Beck comments on her makeup. It could be just another dig at her but there is no edge to her voice. It's soft and unguarded, almost like she's trying to comfort her still. When Beck’s hand settles against her shoulder, Gloria's muscles jump on instinct, a sharp hitch zapping through her frame, but she doesn’t pull away. She can't remember the last time someone touched her for reasons that weren't related to business, or feeding. The warmth grounds her. The steady, living rhythm under Beck’s skin slowly pulls Gloria’s own breathing back into line.

After a moment, she turns her head. Just enough to look at her. “Most of what I know,” she says quietly, the edge gone, “I learned from my sire. From his syndicate.” She pauses, something honest and unarmored slipping into her expression. “About this world. About… being a vampire. How to control it...”

[nakatomi-ayumu]

Ayumu watched as the bullet missed Gloria, hitting the solid stone behind her to send pieces tearing out of the wall. Ah. That noise would attract even more zombies and if Ayumu was lucky, maybe even a Hunter. One could only wish~ They turned back to the human lying prone on the ground, lips curling in amusement at the way they were still so defiant nearing the end of their miserable life. Ayumu had to give him props for trying.

“Listen to the lady,” they quipped as they started circling the human as well, shooting the man a sharp grin before they looked back up at Gloria. “Wouldn’t it be nicer to die at the hands of such a gorgeous creature than succumb to one of those disgusting zombies?” Ayumu tutted before crouching down to deftly pry the gun from the human’s weakening hand. They could always add the weapon and remaining ammo to their stash.

[gloriaharwell]

The man’s fingers twitched around the gun, but Ayumu was already there, crouching and stripping it from his grasp before he could fire again. The sharp crack of the earlier shot still rang painfully in Gloria’s ears, a stubborn echo she hadn't been able to shake since it split the square, but without the excuse of a weapon between them, the moment snapped into something simpler. Something final.

She exhaled slowly through her nose. “Well,” she said, flatly, almost regretfully. “That settles it.”

She crossed the distance before he could form another insult, pinning his arm back against the slab of concrete trapping him and sank her teeth into the inside of his bicep, right over the brachial artery. The blood came fast. Almost too fast. And the relief hit her like vertigo, surging so sharply it drowned out everything else.

The man’s free hand clawed weakly at her wrist, scrabbled at her jaw, then slipped, slick and useless. Gloria barely registered it, too swept up in the surge of her most primal of instincts, the sharpened focus of senses flaring with each fading heartbeat. Her grip tightened unconsciously, control slipping away all at once instead of gradually, the civilized veneer cracking as the urge to feed took over. She didn’t notice when his movements faltered, didn’t hear the scrape and shamble of bodies peeling themselves out of doorways and alleys, inexorably drawn by the gunshot. Didn’t notice how somewhere beyond them, something else moved—wrong, deliberate, cutting through the noise with predatory intent.

[gloriaharwell]

Hanging a white bauble onto the Christmas tree, Gloria wished for a chance to reconnect with her younger brother.

[beckdean]

Gloria’s words seem to ring out like an omen. Beck clenches her right hand into a fist on instinct - as if the wound from that apocalyptic world was still there, the blood trailing down the curve of her wrist in deep scarlet lines. She even dares a glance down at her fingers, half expecting to see the damage, only to find the skin unbroken. Softly, she releases a deep breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, soon to take another swig from the bottle as distraction.

It wasn’t real. It was never real. Just another twisted gift from this city.

“Well, don’t go getting your hopes up. There’s no real universe where I’d ever let your teeth near me.” Beck states the words flatly, mouth pressed into a hard line.

And yet - deep down - there's a small, traiterous part of her that almost wants to know what those sharpened incisiors would feel like against her skin. What it would be like to give a part of herself away willingly to the vampire. Her gaze flickers despite her better judgement, searching out those concealed fangs behind Gloria's lips - a betrayal to herself that Beck is quick to correct, locking a firm stare instead to the frosted wall opposite her.

When Gloria speaks again, Beck folds her arms around herself - trying to brace both against her words and the icy glare with which Gloria views her. There's something about it that makes her want to cower, but also to rise to whatever standard she was being compared against - as if somehow meeting the vampire's approval would level something out between them. Even if that's far from the truth for now, the favour she owed tipping the scale well and truly in the Gloria's favour.

"Blood traitors?" Beck echoes the words with a frown, finally meeting Gloria's eye again, trying to blink away some of the drunken haze. "What... What is that even supposed to mean?" There's an element of genuine curiosity there, despite the clear judgement underlying the words.

Though, any real emotion is soon eclipsed by anger at the insults thrown her way, shoulders stiffening as she tries to hold her own. "You can attempt to drag me out of here if you want. I can promise it won't end well for you." Probably not the best threat from someone who's still intoxicated, but it would have to do for now, even if her stomach twists at Gloria's talk of leverage and worth.

Beck can feel her breath deepening, a sense of panic from somewhere deep down in her chest that is threatening to come out, heart racing. She attempts to keep her features neutral, not wanting to give any more away than she's sure she already has, but the questions regarding Rei, that's too much - suddenly the rage she'd only known since her werewolf bite flares up, taking over.

Before she can stop herself she's on her feet, moving in Gloria's direction, fists clenched and trembling. "He has nothing to do with this. Nothing. We're not talking about that." The words come out louder, sharper than she'd intended them to - and Beck knows instantly that she's let herself slip, a weakness laid open for the vampire to see. "This is between me and you. No one else." She takes a heaving breath, suddenly realisng how close she'd gotten, forcing herself to take a step backwards as she tries to recover what's left of her waning control and dignity.

It's with a slow turn that she finally faces Gloria again, a sad edge to her widened eyes that she doesn't have the strength to bother hiding. She regards the vampire for a moment, holding her gaze, forcing herself not to back away. "You're alone here too." A short pause, brows furrowing. "Maybe... Maybe we're not so different, you and I." Her voice is quiet, the words said almost in defeat. "It doesn't have to be like this between us."

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria lets out a short laugh. “We'll see about that,” she says lightly, as if Beck’s refusal merely amuses her. If she could bring herself to step away from the wall, she could cash in her favor right then and there, prove her wrong before the day is over. But even though Leon has converted her to feeding on people instead of drinking from blood bags, Gloria still prefers for it to be consensual. Not that Beck needs to know any of that. So when she notices the wolf's gaze flickering toward her mouth, she offers no reassurance, but let's the comment hang between them like the threat it could be.

“That you need to start paying closer attention,” she snaps when Beck echoes the term back at her, her tone cool and dismissive. She refuses to explain the obvious—or any half-baked conspiracy theories based on nothing but a handful of observations and assumptions to her. What matters is that it throws Beck off balance. It's easier to maintain the upper hand that way. “Honestly, do you live under a rock?”

It works. Because it always does. And when it gets Beck to huff and puff like she's Big Bad Wolf, threatening to blow the little piglet's house down, Gloria gives an unimpressed roll of her eyes. “I imagine you might be ill all over my shoes,” she replies. “Yes. That would be unpleasant.”

It is the mention of Rei that breaks the rhythm.

Beck moves—too fast, too close, anger flaring sharp and sudden—and Gloria’s breath doesn't just catch but cuts clean off. She freezes, eyes wide, body refusing to obey her. Beck is drunk. She should not be this quick. The shock drags every memory, every nightmare she’s ever buried to the surface, cleanly shattering the illusion of control. Even when Beck steps back and turns away, Gloria cannot seem to recover. Her gaze skids away, fixing somewhere over Beck’s shoulder as she tries to will her pulse to slow.

“I did not come alone,” she says, and the lie slips out thin and unconvincing, trembling in all its childish pettiness. A tear escapes her before she can stop it. She quickly wipes it away with the back of her hand as if annoyed by the inconvenience of it, but her breath is still uneven. She still can't make herself look at Beck. "I just came in here to fix my makeup."

[beckdean]

Beck's shoulders immediately tense as Gloria paces closer to her previous exit, the move subtle but a definite statement between them. She attempts to keep her face neutral, though her body language highlights every element of her discomfort - all clenched fists and strained breaths. "Your concern for my safety is touching." The words are ground out through gritted teeth, even with the lace of sarcasm to them.

Beck is about to snap back at Gloria's comment regarding her odds - when her attention is soon taken by the chocolate bar she plucks into her grip. The movement was so casual, as if they were in a grocery store before everything went to hell, not a care in the world. It takes the last remnants of her pride to keep from openly gawking at her as she takes a bite from the candy, instead quickly focusing her gaze to the opposite wall, arms folding in front of her chest defenesively.

Beck's gaze almost softens as Gloria explains the key to her success. She can't help but wonder, somewhere deep beneath her fatigue and hunger, why anyone who really cared for her would teach her such a thing. The wolf takes a subtle step closer, observing the vampire with open curiosity - too tired to try and hide her thoughts. "You could help so many people with this. Save so many lives." Her head tilts. "Yet even in a time like this you think of profit. How the suffering can benefit you."

Still, Beck sees the obvious way Gloria watches the pool of blood that has formed at her feet, the sharpness in her voice at her final words. "Maybe arrogance is all I have left. Better than nothing." She states with a shrug, even if she knows it's a lie. Even if, in that moment, she's hyper aware of the weakness she feels in her bones, just how tired she is.

There's a second of pause, a moment of hesitation - then wide blue eyes lock onto Gloria. "I have something you need too." The wound at her hand was beginning to clot, but the skin was still stained scarlet red, the blood stuck under her nails. The thought of any bite made her feel sick to her stomach - but... how much longer could she survive like this? Beck swallows, trying not to show the visceral reaction beneath her skin, her right hand reaching involuntarily to the old werewolf bite at the side of her abdomen.

"Surely if you want to try my blood, it's best to let me eat something first." Her vision flickers briefly to the open window, then back to the vampire in front of her.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria tilts her head slightly, the corners of her mouth curving into something saccharine, almost innocent. “I know,” she says, her voice soft but unmistakably deliberate, letting Beck feel the weight of the words without tipping her own hand.

She does not miss the way the wolf’s muscles tense as she shifts, nor the way her gaze snaps away when the chocolate bar comes free of its wrapper. The effect is… gratifying. More so than she expects. Gloria takes another small bite, slow and deliberate, watching Beck from behind her lashes as she chews.

The change in the air is unmistakable when Beck steps closer, carrying the scent of blood with her. The sharp twinge of hunger that follows narrows Gloria’s focus despite her best effort. Her shoulders square almost imperceptibly as Beck speaks, that exhausted moral certainty dragged out into yet another lecture, and the vampire’s patience thins.

"What about me?" The question cuts cleanly through the space between them, sudden and unadorned. Gloria holds Beck’s gaze without wavering. “Who is saving my life?” Her tone sharpens, but her voice barely rises. “Did you think about that for even a second, or does your concern only extend as far as it flatters your conscience?”

She shakes her head and gestures to the shelves around them. “None of this fell into my lap. I worked for it.” A scoff frees itself. “People don’t give their blood freely anymore. There are too many risks. And I don’t expect them to.” She lifts her chin a fraction and adds, “So yes. I trade. I negotiate. I offer something people want in exchange for something I need.” When her gaze cuts back to Beck, it is cold and unyielding. “That’s survival. And I will not apologize for it.”

Her anger vanishes as swiftly as it came. By the time Beck has made her offer, Gloria’s expression is already smooth again, composure restored as if on command. The offer doesn't surprise her. Not when it is what she has been angling for from the beginning. But she doesn't bother to correct her. If the wolf wanted to think it was her own idea, even better.

Still, she doesn’t trust it. Beck has been lying to her this whole time—has been trying to anyway—and desperation has a way of making people reckless. Gloria knows nausea when she sees it. Knows disgust. “How can I be sure you won’t make a run for it the moment you’ve eaten?”

She takes a measured step forward, her gaze dropping to Beck’s hand. The cut has stopped bleeding, but Gloria reaches out slowly, tracing the nearly dried line of red with the barest touch of her fingertip. She lifts it, faintly stained, and brings it to her lips. The taste is there even in trace amounts—warm, alive, unmistakably wolf. Her eyes go half-lidded for the briefest moment before she schools her expression and lowers her hand again.

“How about this?” She offers calmly, without heat or flourish. “If you run, I will kill you.”

[beckdean]

Gloria's scent comes a moment later than usual, dulled by the alcohol thrumming through her veins. But, the sight of the vampire causes a sobering tension to pass through Beck's shoulders, eyes narrowing as the blonde approaches. The snide remark that soon escapes Gloria's lips, however, prompts Beck to take another deep swig from the prosecco bottle, the arch of the glass doing little to hide the obvious eye roll she lets escape.

"That wasn't real." Beck responds gruffly - real life was traumatic enough these days, without having to acknowledge whatever repressed memories she was avoiding from an apocalyptic dream. Even if Gloria's presence brought back faint recollections of a bleeding hand, a dark warehouse.

The wolf may be drunk, but her eyeline doesn't wander from Gloria as she settles against a wall opposite her. There was always some deep sense of foreboding at the thought of the vampire - perhaps that debt which still hung between them, weighing down in the back of her mind. And... perhaps, deep down, there was a sliver of jealousy.

Despite the cruelty she may flaunt, Gloria was polished in ways Beck could never imagine being. She was smooth lines and control, a contrast to Beck's rough and undisciplined nature. Always seeming to have the upper hand, no obvious sign of a monster underneath - the thought is enough to have her reaching for the bottle again. At least alcohol dulled the wolf, where her own will could not.

"More blackmail from the vampire. Shocking." Beck would usually respond with silence and a stony glare, but the drink loosens her tongue, lets the sarcasm slip free. Still, she makes no move to leave, or to send Gloria away. Even if there's a nervous apprehension deep in her chest, a numbed instinct to run away. "I wouldn't think you'd want to be stuck in here with me. You seem like the sort to love an event like this - perfect for scheming. Surely there's some important government official out there to seduce and manipulate, rather than waste your time with a mutt like me."

Gloria's gaze feels like scrutiny, but what's more jarring is her awareness - of Rei, of any details of Beck's life at all. Eyes immediately arch, though she's quick to turn her head away, trying to hide the clear discomfort on her face, a faint tinge of a blush. "That's none of your business." Beck's voice is firm as she snaps, sharper than she intended, though she soon levels her a glare. "You take a surprising level of interest in my life. Why's that? Looking for something useful to cash in on the favour you're owed?" Beck turns back to the bottle with a bitter smile. "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Seems like you got the raw end of the deal after all."

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria’s mouth curves, thin and humorless. “No,” she agrees. “It wasn’t.” Her gaze stays on Beck, sharp and unrelenting. “But your choices were.” Real enough that she could still feel it—the weight of Beck’s wrist in her hand, the thrum of her pulse against her lips, the heat of her blood against her tongue—and she shoves the thought down before it can make her sway.

She shifts, angling her shoulder into the curve of the ice wall, forcing herself to look casual as her hands slip behind her back. They’re shaking. She knows they are, but she refuses to let it show. The smell of wolf presses at her senses, heavier than usual, and she keeps her eyes locked on Beck’s face so she doesn’t have to focus on breathing through it. Layered over the noise and the lights and the people she’s supposed to be charming right now, it’s almost too much.

Beck is right. She should be out there. Representing Leon and his syndicate. Playing her part instead of hiding like a scared little girl. The thought stings sharply, made worse by the fact that Leon isn’t here to steady her, isn’t anywhere in the city at all. He’d said it was temporary. Necessary. Still, the absence yawns wide enough to make her chest ache, and the word abandoned circles her mind like a vulture she refuses to acknowledge.

“Blackmail?” she repeats, lips curling faintly. “That’s what you take issue with?” Her gaze flicks pointedly over Beck, sharp and assessing. “A little sanctimonious, don’t you think, coming from someone who surrounds herself with blood traitors and liars?”

She straightens a fraction, chin lifting, posture settling into something icy and deliberate as she channels the look her mother used to wear when she wanted someone smaller. Gloria had hated it then—now she wields it like a weapon. “You should consider it a favor that I haven’t dragged you back out there by the collar. Most people would be grateful." Her lips curl in disdain. "But I won’t pretend to be surprised by your lack of manners.”

Beck’s flush doesn’t escape Gloria’s notice. Neither does the tension in her jaw. The small, ugly spark of triumph that flares in her chest makes her stomach twist but she leans into it. Lets it harden. Softness is a liability. Only the ruthless survive. “You can never have too much leverage,” she adds evenly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. Your time will come. When I collect, it will be worth it.”

Her gaze lingers despite herself—a beat too long, a fraction too focused—tracing details she’s memorized without ever meaning to. The set of Beck’s shoulders when she’s bracing. The way fear sharpens into anger rather than retreat. She tells herself it’s habit, vigilance, the kind of attention that keeps you alive. Tells herself it’s just another weakness mapped, another pressure point catalogued. The explanation settles easily enough, even if it doesn’t quite fit.

Beck is a threat. That’s what Gloria tells herself, anyway. The reason she hasn’t been able to get her out of her head since the moment they met. The reason she can't stop thinking about the fear in Beck’s eyes back then. The revulsion at her own nature. Her half-shifted features. Gloria had dreamed about her afterward for several nights in a row—Beck cornering her in a dark alley, canines already dripping with blood, feral, tearing into her like prey. She’d woken shaking, sheets damp with sweat, the scent of wolf burned into her memory.

Gloria buries the memory the way she buries everything else that threatens to fracture her composure. Whatever Beck is, she is the scarier monster. She has teeth and restraint. Control. She tilts her head, eyes narrowing just enough to cut. “So where is he, Beck?” she asks. “Your witch.” She doesn’t bother with Rei’s name, even though she knows exactly who he is too. “Or any of them. Your 'friends'.” The pause is deliberate, cruel in its precision. “You talk as though you have people lining up to stand by you—and yet here you are. Alone. Hiding with a bottle.” She holds Beck’s gaze, unflinching, the mask firmly in place even as something inside her aches in unmistakable recognition.

[beckdean]

Location: The Igloos.

Who: Open - @vievecorcitystarters

Huddled at the back of the dark igloo with a half emptied bottle of prosecco in one hand, Beck stared absentmindedly up at the supernatural lighting of the igloo. As with all these supernatural events, the wonder with which she stared at every enchanted oddity soon melted into overstimulation - and then a quick trip to the bar.

A few glasses of wine, led to a couple of shots of spirits… but when the bartenders got too busy, she had decided to pluck the nearest bottle of alcohol for herself. Well, maybe two. She had thought she was being discrete. Perhaps she was more drunk than she had first thought, though - and she soon found herself being chased by a rather angry looking bar manager, with some sort of supernatural speed keeping them at her tail.

Roughly skirting around party goers, haphazardly dodging decorations - Beck had half thrown herself into a thankfully empty igloo once she neared the outskirts of the party. Holding her breath as she listened out for her pursuiter - the coast had seemed thankfully clear, and she took another swig of the prosecco in celebration. At least… until she heard someone nearing the igloo entrance.

“This one’s taken!” Slurred words come out with an amused chuckle, hoping the awkwardness of possibly encountering a pre-occupied couple may keep her new arrival away.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria had already been halfway inside the igloo when the slurred protest reached her, the instinct to retreat winning out over politeness. She paused, shoulders tensing, then straightened and stepped fully inside rather than backing out again. The space was quiet enough to be disorienting after the festival, the ice walls muting everything beyond them. Her gaze flicked to the bottle in Beck’s hand before she looked away again. “I thought stealing was something you reserved for zombie apocalypses,” she said, tone cool, eyes narrowing just slightly.

She kept her distance, leaning back against the curved wall of ice as if she belonged there, as if her chest wasn’t tight enough to make breathing feel deliberate. Beck was drunk—properly drunk—and Gloria noticed it instantly, the loose edges of her movements, the way the words slid together. There was a sharp, unwelcome twist of jealousy at that, but she buried it quickly. Alcohol hadn’t done anything for her for years. Neither had anything else.

“I can either stay,” she went on evenly, “or I can go out there and tell that bartender exactly where you’re hiding.” She paused. “It’s up to you.” She hoped, quietly and a little desperately, that Beck would choose the former, because the thought of turning back toward the crowd made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t want to examine too closely.

Her eyes lingered on Beck for a moment longer than necessary before she added, almost idly, “Seems a little early to be this drunk.” A beat. “What happened? Did your little witch boyfriend dump you?” The words were edged to sound cruel, though the way her gaze slipped away immediately after betrayed more than she intended.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered how familiar this felt—wrong place, wrong time, Beck hiding, the decision to betray her or her cover for her up to Gloria once more—and resolutely did not say it aloud.

[gloriaharwell]

[nakatomi-ayumu]

"Hmm..." was Ayumu's only acknowledgement of Gloria's thanks. The fox spirit did not often show that they cared, unless there was a young one who needed taking care of and Gloria was one such young one.

They watched as the vampire closed their eyes and did her thing, allowing her predatorial instincts take over and soon they were on their way. Ayumu's face broke into a pleased smile and gestured for Gloria to lead the way and they would follow, protecting the young vampire as they always did.

"Now don't be careless. This is your first proper hunt in awhile," they quipped, keeping pace behind Gloria as they neared her prey who turned out to be am injured human yet still armed male who seemed to have been left for dead by their group.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria slowed as the space opened up, stopping well short of a man pinned beneath pieces of collapsed concrete. The dead had gathered off to one side of the square, bodies pressing aimlessly against a fence they couldn’t quite figure out, fingers hooking uselessly through the wire as they paced and bumped against it. But what truly demanded her attention was the blood. It pooled beneath him in a dark, spreading shape, his hands slick and shaking where he’d clearly tried to hold himself together. The smell made her head go light, hunger curling sharp and unwanted in her abdomen, growing claws and fangs of its own. She pressed her lips into a thin line and forced herself to breathe through it without stepping closer.

She knew, even without the blood loss, that he wasn’t getting out from under that. The angle was wrong. His breathing was wrong. Time was already doing the work for her—and depriving her of a large portion of her meal.

He aimed his gun at her anyway. The crack of a shot rang out and she moved on instinct, stepping aside as the bullet tore into stone where her head had been a moment earlier. He laughed, short and ugly, his chest hitching as he did. “Fucking carrion feeder,” he sneered, voice thick with spite. “I’d rather let the dead take me than give you the satisfaction.”

Gloria straightened slowly and began to circle his trapped form, careful to keep her distance, her expression neutral. “From where I’m standing,” she said evenly, despite the haze pressing at the edges of her focus, “you’re dying either way.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward the fence before returning to him. “You can spend what time you have left screaming in agony, or you can make this easier for both of us.” The words tasted wrong in her mouth, like a line learned rather than believed, and as she held his gaze she couldn’t help but think that no matter how long she’d played at being this thing, it still didn’t come naturally.

[beckdean]

Beck recognised the woman’s voice instantly - even if the memories seemed from a lifetime ago. A bar, a closed bathroom door, an old promise of a favour owed. Things easily forgotten when the world turned to chaos, and the only thing that seemed to matter anymore was surviving - one foot in front of of the other, one breath at a time.

Yet, despite the years that had separated their first encounter, Beck had not forgotten the nature of their meeting. Instantly her muscles tense, eyes narrowing upon the blonde figure. She seemed to be doing well, considering the circumstances. Gloria had appeared resourceful though, even with their brief interaction - the kind that would thrive, even in a word like this, no matter the cost.

Beck takes a defensive step backward, nearing the window she’d just entered through, as she hears Gloria’s words. There’s a faint flush of embarrassment at her cheeks, knowing how she probably looked - desperate, aching hunger showing in the tired lines beneath her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks. Despite that, she lifts her chin, defiance gleaming. “I’m fine.” The words are stubborn, even if they’re obviously untrue.

As Gloria hints at her own hunger, however, she cannot help but allow an edge of sympathy to show in her gaze. It was one thing that united them all nowadays, it seemed. She almost forgot the exact type of hunger Gloria was describing, just for a moment. Until she recalled her own blood dripping from her finger tip, instantly pressing more tightly to the wound with a wince, as if that would block the scent.

“I just… lost track of the direction. Thought this was the place I’d been using to keep cover.” It was an obvious lie, but Beck didn’t have the energy to care, taking another small step backwards. The blood in her veins seems to cool at Gloria’s final question, instantly locking eyes with the vampire. “You could try to take what you want. It may not end well for you.” Fighting talk from the malnourished werewolf, but she was determined to stand her ground.

Still, she can’t help a subtle amount of curiosity, as she allows her gaze to brush past Gloria just for the moment, to all that food. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen so much, all in one spot. “How did you… how did you even manage this?” There was a small amount of awe there, even if she didn’t want it to show.

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria let the wolf’s stubborn dismissal roll past her without comment, though her gaze traveled over Beck in an unhurried sweep. The hollowness beneath her eyes. The tremor in her hands. The flush blooming high in her cheeks—the warmth of blood beneath her skin evoking a curious pull. And the blood at her fingertip, bright and warm, trailing down her skin in a slow, intoxicating trickle.

Her lips parted just slightly, like an animal catching a scent. Beck’s voice dimmed for a moment, drowned out by the thrum of pulse and the copper-sweet tang in the air. Control was a learned discipline, one Leon had drilled into her, but times like these tested it more than she cared to admit.

Still, she listened. “Mm,” Gloria murmured absently to Beck’s weak excuse about mistaking the building. “If you say so.” Her tone made it clear that she didn’t believe a word, but she let the lie stand. She moved slowly, almost absentmindedly, simply drifting a few steps to the side as though studying the shelves. But the arc she walked was deliberate, subtle, until she stood between Beck and the window the other woman had slipped through. The exit remained visible. Just… slightly less accessible. “You can leave, if you’d like,” Gloria offered with a light shrug. “I would hurry, though. It's getting dark, and we wouldn't want you to get lost again.” But she didn’t step aside.

Her gaze flicked back to Beck. “Why would I want to fight you? You’re of far more use to me alive than dead. It would be such a waste.” A soft sigh. “But if it comes to that… I don't think you'd like your odds.” She let the implication sit there, unthreatening, almost conversational, then reached out and plucked a small packet from the shelf—a chocolate bar, something rich and flavorful—and turned it over in her hand. Then, very deliberately, she tore it open and took a bite. It tasted like dirt. All of it did. But she chewed anyway, maintaining eye contact just long enough to make the gesture sting.

“Such a shame,” she said lightly, brushing a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. “All this food, and I can’t taste a thing. No nutrition, no satisfaction. Just… filler.” Her eyes dropped briefly to Beck’s hand, to each wasted drop hitting the floor, her voice heavy with double meaning. “Tragic, really. When someone else could make much better use of it.”

Beck’s question about how she had managed all this pulled a soft, humorless smile from her. “One person’s misfortune is another’s opportunity,” Gloria said, almost gently. “Everyone who's ever cared about me has taught me that.” She gestured loosely to the shelves. “People fled. Hid. Starved. Hoarded food, then died anyway. But zombies don’t care about me. And crises are always the same—wars, disasters, plagues. The things people need never change. Food. Medicine. Safety.” A small shrug. “I just paid attention earlier than most. Went where others wouldn't.”

Her gaze dropped again, this time to the small splatter of red at Beck’s feet. “You know,” she murmured, the silk in her voice thinning to something sharper as she pursed her lips, “it fits that your pride and arrogance will be the death of you."

[nakatomi-ayumu]

hunting | gloria & ayumu

for: @gloriaharwell location: J4, Chissob Hills weapons: katana & tanto

Ayumu had convinced Gloria to follow them out that evening on one of their daily walks in the city. It had been awhile since they last came across someone Gloria could feed from who was not themself or Diego and Ayumu thought that the young vampire needed a better form of sustenance than spirit blood.

"You know with all the new faces that have been coming into the city for that vaccine, I figured it was high time you did some hunting. It's been awhile since your last proper meal. Spirit blood is hardly nutritious..."

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria walked beside Ayumu with her hands swinging leisurely at her sides, posture relaxed as if this were a casual evening stroll instead of a hunt she’d been more or less gently herded into. Ayumu’s comment drew a small, agreeable hum from her. “Hardly nutritious,” she echoed, smiling faintly. “But better than nothing. I appreciate you and Diego keeping me on my feet.” The thanks was genuine, even if she made it sound like a passing compliment.

She lifted her chin and drew in a slow breath. Rot. Old blood. Damp concrete. The same cocktail that clung to every street these days. But underneath that, she could sense something faintly… alive. She let the air settle in her lungs a moment longer, filtering past the noise of decay until—

Her head snapped toward the right.

Shambling shapes were already drifting that way, likely drawn by the same thing she’d caught. Of course the dead would get there first. They always clocked an opportunity to feed quicker than she preferred.

Gloria glanced at Ayumu and let a confident smirk curl one corner of her mouth, playing the role she knew they needed her to play. “That way,” she said lightly, and without waiting for agreement, she slipped into motion—smooth, deliberate, and very much the predator she pretended to enjoy being.

[beckdean]

@gloriaharwell Location: Supply warehouse, around L4.

Beck could feel hunger like a deep pit in her stomach, her pace slowed and strength waning. She knew she should stop, take a day or two to regain strength - but time felt pressing, imminent. Every day in this city was another day her sister was left unprotected, a thought that seemed to loop endlessly in the back of her mind.

Up ahead, a warehouse loomed down a once affluent street - now derelict and abandoned. Seeing, miraculously, no sign of a zombie ahead, she made her way carefully between buildings, keeping low.

Taking care not to alert anyone who may be keeping watch, she kept to the shadows of the dusk as she snuck towards a back window, wrapping her arm in her jacket before she broke the pane as her entryway. The muffled crack of glass sounded - but silence followed.

Slipping down into the echoing building, her eyes took a moment to adjust. But, when they did, she appeared to have come across a goldmine. Shelves. Dozens of them - filled with various supplies, essentials that would buy her weeks of time, nevermind days. Relief surged through her chest, but underneath it, something colder stirred. A place like this was never left unguarded.

That was when she felt it - a sting at her fingertip. She looked down to see a bead of blood welling where a sliver of glass had pierced her glove. Cursing softly, she pressed her sleeve against it, trying to staunch the flow before her scent carried. The pain distracted her just long enough that she didn’t notice - at least, not right away - the faint shift of dust on the ground behind her.

The subtle sound of another person's step.

[gloriaharwell]

It was true what they said—you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. Or, in Gloria’s case, with fully stocked shelves. All well-preserved and perfectly edible—there was even some fresh fruit around—just not to her. She’d made sure the zombies her little group used as guard dogs were nowhere in sight, leaving one narrow, deliberate path through the maze of alleys that would lead any potential looters straight to her. Unharmed. Because even freshly bitten, the infected’s blood spoiled almost immediately. Rumor had it a vampire’s bite could save them if only just once, but Gloria had no intention of testing that theory. She wasn’t about to weigh herself down with a bunch of fledglings. Uncontaminated blood was scarce enough as it was, and she wasn’t in the habit of gambling her privileges away for a few extra mouthfuls. Alliances, on the other hand, were much more valuable.

Her companions kept her fed, yes, but relying solely on them was a fool’s game. Dependence bred complacency, and complacency got you killed. Besides, no one wanted to ally with someone who brought nothing to the table but hunger. Better to keep a few cards close to her chest, a few secrets closer, and make sure that if push came to shove, she could stand on her own. The sound of shattering glass carried easily through the warehouse’s hollow silence. Gloria didn’t move at first—only tilted her head slightly, listening. Next came the sound of careful footsteps, deliberate but uneven with exhaustion. She could hear the quickened pulse before she could see her, the rush of blood beneath her skin, the scent of wolf threading through the dust. That alone was enough to make her mouth water.

She watched the intruder for a moment, studying the way she took in the shelves like someone who’d stumbled into paradise, before she advanced. “This must seem like a dream to you,” the vampire said, voice low and smooth. “You must be starving.” When the woman turned toward her, the light caught her face—and recognition struck unbidden. Gloria’s voice didn’t falter, but for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to still. She knew her. Even worse, she remembered liking her. But that was worlds away.

A faint, reproachful tsk sounded as she shook her head, slowly closing in. “What am I going to do with you? I mean—after all, I can relate.” She let her lips part then, enough to flash the suggestion of fangs she usually kept hidden. “But breaking and entering?” Her tone lightened into mock disappointment. “I know these are lawless times, but really, there’s no need for us to behave like criminals. I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to just take what I want?”

[gloriaharwell]

Gloria Harwell | Dawn of the Living Dead AU Bio

When the outbreak hit Vievecor, Gloria had already adapted to a life of careful calculation. She was no stranger to danger or loss, and the outbreak only made survival a matter of sharper strategy. While most of the city descended into panic, she moved swiftly to secure resources and hoard valuables at Leon’s compound. She tried to hold together what remained of the Syndicate, but without Leon’s centuries of experience and authority, its members scattered across the city or left it entirely, leaving Gloria to fend for herself.

It was during this period that she encountered Ayumu and Diego and forged an alliance with them. Gloria attached herself to Ayumu as her new guiding figure, relying on them to offer direction and protection where needed. Together, they fortified Ware, turning it into a hub for trade, influence, and safety. Luxury goods, medical supplies, and essentials are carefully stockpiled to ensure the group maintains leverage and power in a city overrun by the undead.

As Leon remains absent—having left the city before the outbreak to evade Artemis—Gloria has not heard from her adoptive sire since everything went bottoms up. She believes he is still out there somewhere, surviving, and she holds onto that hope fiercely.

Questions:

Do they believe the message is real? Though Gloria pretends not to care, she dearly hopes the message is real. She misses her friends and family and wishes the world could return to how it used to be, no matter how much she benefits from the current situation.

What is their favoured weapon? Gloria doesn't carry any weapons.

If your character is in a group, please specify which group or who with. She's in a group with Ayumu and Diego.

Please specify in which square your character resides according to this grid map of Vievecor City. She's staying at Ware in L4.

If they are a supernatural, how many times they have been bitten? None, as she rarely engages the undead directly and they care very little for her.

[chris-elkar]

If it wasn't for Leon, she might not have become a vampire at all. He had a theory that Leon had taken Gloria in and liked her so much because he was the one who turned her. But all Chris had to back that up was bad vibes and half a hunch, so he wasn't going to say that out loud. Instead he just tipped his head in acknowledgement and kept his mouth shut about it.

"The fact that they found it before means that they will look into it at some point, now we have a head start. If I find anything promising and we can get someone inside Park's company that would give us a chance to see if they start heading in the right direction and cut them off." He'd answered the same sort of questions before, whenever he told people about his research they either had a reaction like Gloria's or they thought it was interesting. The same thing happened when Viv explain what she was looking at with vampire biology.

"At some point though it's so far in the future and there's so many possibilities that trying to think of absolutely everything that could go wrong just leaves you paralyzed. One of those possibilities is that I'll find absolutely nothing and change projects." He sighed. "I'm in the right place. I can't do 'contracts' for Leon, Teddy's letting me stay away from the bloodier side of clan business, but I can help us understand this all better."

[gloriaharwell]

"I won't claim to know much about the fourth dimension or how premonitions work, but what you were shown was an alternate future based on one single event that never happened. Any number of things could be different—including this." What Gloria did know was that it scared her. The suggestion of inevitability. Of impotence. She had been helpless once and had no desire to return to that feeling. "You just said it yourself. You don't even know if they are working on anything remotely similar. Perhaps finding out should be your priority before you set something in motion you won't be able to stop."

The judgment laced through Chris's words stung, subtle as it was. But it showed her she’d been right not to tell him anything beyond the bare necessities. "Yeah, well. We can't all be so lucky." The snap of her voice was cool and immediate. "Most of us aren't in a position that allows us to deny our true nature."

[chris-elkar]

The way she stiffened up made Chris realize he really wasn't going to get any answers from Gloria about her own life. "Contracts, huh? Sounds like a boring office job." He said, hopefully with enough sarcasm to make it clear he wasn't actually that naive, especially when it came to Leon. "You should ditch Leon and come work for me." That part was genuine though.

"I'm working on seeing if and how magic shows up to modern technology." He tilted his head. "Do you remember that weird potential future where humans were able to detect and neutralize magic with some kind of tech? We never figured out how it worked then, but now I'm giving us a 30 year head start. If you can figure out how it works, we can figure out how to break it."

He shrugged, and gave her a sheepish smile. "At the moment though what that comes down to is getting people with telekinesis to sit in a room filled with sensors and and lift a box filled with more sensors and then going through the outputs."

[gloriaharwell]

"You don't believe that." Gloria countered evenly. She wouldn't let herself be goaded into sharing any details he wouldn't be able to stomach. The last thing she needed was Chris trying to rescue her. She wasn't being kept against her will, nor was anyone forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do. He would only succeed at getting himself hurt, or worse.

At his suggestion, she gave a small shake of her head, her gaze softening. "I can’t do that. I owe him everything. Whatever you think of Leon… I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren't for him."

Her brows knit together at the mention of some potential future, then smoothed out. "I don't. I never wanted to know. It seemed too much to handle at the time." Everything had seemed like too much to handle at the time, and if Chris was out there chasing ghosts, perhaps he should've opted not to learn about it either. "And what if you can't figure out how to reverse it? What if this time, you’re the one who hands them the blueprints?""

[beckdean]

Beck's eyes narrow on Gloria's form, gaze locked to hers - unwavering now, with everything well and truly exposed. "You've taunted me. Followed me in here. Pushed me to the edge of my limits-" Beck cuts herself off, knowing her response is likely only going to add to Gloria's satisfaction. Instead she folds her arms, shaking her head as she looks to the wall.

However, Beck does visibly pale as she registers Gloria's next words. Whether or not the vampire was dramatasising, Beck did not care - any logical thought was quickly becoming more difficult to latch on to, as she felt a visceral response to the nightmare Gloria was describing. Muscles tensed, heartbeat thundering. The wolf takes a shaky breath, the ever encroaching feeling of claustraphobia seeming to want to crush her. "I never asked for any of this." Her voice is quiet, not even sure if she's speaking to Gloria or herself, a cool feeling of desperation pooling deep within her stomach.

She knows she'll regret trusting the vampire. She also knows she has no choice. So, she straightens herself up, finally glancing back to Gloria with loathing clear all over her expression. "Fine. You get me out of here. Unwitnessed - no strings attached. No games. Then I'll owe you, as you said." The words are ground out through gritted teeth.

[gloriaharwell]

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Gloria retorts, her laugh like a bell. "You were already at your limit when you stormed in here. If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been him. And I don’t think you would’ve liked how that would've played out."

Her facade cracks—splits right down the middle—at the wolf's utterance, if only for a moment. She almost apologizes—for the pain, the confusion, for everything she’s caused and everything she hasn’t. But then she remembers who she is. What she is. And her expression hardens again.

"Good girl," she taunts, her tone somewhere between patronizing and practiced flirtation. Both exist solely to get a rise out of the brunette. "I knew you’d come around."

She crosses the short distance to the door then stops there, waiting for the wolf to step aside. "Stay here until the alarm goes off. When it does, you run like hell. The back door’s to the left. I’ll keep anyone from coming your way. Simple enough, right?"