Not today Justin
No title available
$LAYYYTER
wallacepolsom
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Love Begins
we're not kids anymore.
RMH
🪼
cherry valley forever
noise dept.
No title available
★
Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
todays bird
Claire Keane
Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Luxembourg
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United States
@leon-blachedone
Retired Notes:
Leon has had a few syndicate members arrested in recent months.
He has left town and is conducting business remotely and far less often, keeping a low profile after word had gotten to him that local law enforcement were tipped off about one of his businesses/ fronts for syndicate business.
He does not know how they found out but suspects it’s due to when he was (mentally) attacked by a witch months back in early 2025.
"Well, I'd be a terrible donater if I didn't make it at least a little enjoyable." He had no idea what his blood might taste like. Those who had had it didn't say anything bad so he assumed it was fine. He put the thought aside for now.
"Yes, can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting the man myself but I can appreciate the Vineyard." He couldn't even begin to question why someone like Leon might not be a fan of larger gatherings. "I can't argue with preferring smaller engagements, less likely to be some kind of drama. But we know how much the community enjoys a bit of drama that isn't life threatening."
“Oh I wouldn’t suggest the wine festival isn’t life threatening,” Leon retorted with a smirk. “Hell, some might even take offense to that comment. Lord knows an accident or two happens each year... Some hosts are simply better than others at covering their tracks.”
Beck's eyes narrow at Leon's words, and even more so with the smug smirk she was met with on the vampire's face. "You should watch what you call me." The words are ground out between gritted teeth, voice level even if there's little hiding of the anger that's written all over her face. Knowing she's showing too much, she quickly turns to look away from Leon, arms folded as she looks out into the night ahead.
The idea of so many being so willing to offer themselves up to vampires did make Beck uncomfortable, a fact she does her best to hide with her gaze focused out on the vineyards. "Well. I'm glad that we can agree on something." She mumbles, sarcasm evident in her words. "I'm sure you'll do your best to look out for any participants that get themselves caught into any circumstances they did not consent to."
“Apologies. I had no idea you preferred mutt,” Leon responded sharply with false politeness. “If you’ll excuse me, I do have other more pressing matters than socializing with guests who act as if they were forced to attend.”
He chuckled a little at the cost comment when it came to the wine. "I'm just relieved it's not more than wine this time. The last event I went the drinks were more than they appeared." The spirit could feel his uneasy and tensed muscles had started to ease and allow for his usual nature to start coming back. "I have been avoiding a few tasters quite yet. Wanted to at least have a bit of wine in me before." Elliot had also been avoiding his ex-wife the last thing he needed right now. He downed a good portion of wine in his glass. "Have you been enjoying yourself? I think this may be one of the better winefests I've been to in my life."
He knew Leon mostly by reputation, he'd heard a few things here and there but he didn't know him well enough to make a judgement. Should he be talking to him? Probably not but he was here and well perhaps the rumors were wrong.
“Oh have you?” Leon quirked an eyebrow, amused by the response. “Trying to get some of us inebriated, perhaps? How thoughtful,” he added with a smirk.
“I’m not usually one for large gatherings personally— I prefer much more intimate celebrations… But yes, this is definitely one of the more… Flashy years. Perhaps not in decor but certainly with respect to our hosts. I couldn’t claim quality was quite so high with some of the former celebrations.”
Beck's eyes narrow at Leon's words, and even more so with the smug smirk she was met with on the vampire's face. "You should watch what you call me." The words are ground out between gritted teeth, voice level even if there's little hiding of the anger that's written all over her face. Knowing she's showing too much, she quickly turns to look away from Leon, arms folded as she looks out into the night ahead.
The idea of so many being so willing to offer themselves up to vampires did make Beck uncomfortable, a fact she does her best to hide with her gaze focused out on the vineyards. "Well. I'm glad that we can agree on something." She mumbles, sarcasm evident in her words. "I'm sure you'll do your best to look out for any participants that get themselves caught into any circumstances they did not consent to."
Leon smirked, amused at how openly the wolf showed her displeasure. “What I call you, hm? Perhaps you should be less worried about nicknames and more about your tone right now, sweetheart. Not everyone has my patience or tolerance for bullshit, and plenty are too drunk right now to give a fuck about your feelings. He grinned devilishly, adding, “And who am I to tell them no?”
The night was going surprisingly smoothly—no small feat for a vampire party. Or rather, the vampire party of the year.
Even Calvin had to admit he was having fun, and it showed in the dappled red puncture marks across his skin. He wasn’t exactly high demand: a young witch who probably still smelled faintly of the animals he curled up with each night in his stoat form. But that didn’t bother him much.
Still… he couldn’t help but hope to spot one particular vampire. Not for romance, not even for blood letting. Just for the strange comfort of familiarity. In the year he’d been around this strange, glittering underworld, Leon was the only person he felt remotely connected to. And if Calvin had to guess, Leon didn’t seem to have many friends either. So that made them friends in a sense.
By sheer chance, he spotted him. Leon, descending into the wine cellar with that same elegant aloofness he always carried. A smirk tugged at Calvin’s lips. He tilted his head. He didn’t know Leon well enough to be sure, but the vampire didn’t exactly seem like the tour type.
Intrigued, he slipped through the crowd, gliding in the spaces between bodies, dancing in shadows. He swept quietly into the cellar, strolling among the massive casks with casual disinterest, pretending not to notice the vampire.
So when Leon approached, Calvin feigned surprise. “Leon! Hello!” he said brightly, stepping forward to offer a warm, friendly embrace before pulling back. “Just call me Cal, y’know. If you’re bold enough to compliment my skills, you can be bold enough to use my name.”
His fingers traced the edge of his necklace. “But…” he added with a teasing lilt, eyes narrowing just a touch, “I’m guessing by that look in your eyes, you’re not here to use me to feed off of?”
Leon’s gaze flickered over the various marks on the witch’s skin impassively, commenting, “I’ve fed already, thanks.” Not that it was ever a real reason he would turn down a willing meal— but the sight of other vampire’s markings on a being always left a sour taste in his mouth. Leon was quite particular, and even if he did indulge in witch blood now and then, he hardly enjoyed a shared meal. Often he utilized familiars instead, quite aware of his own possessive tendencies. The sight of someone already bitten up was nothing more than leftovers in his eyes— especially when the meal was a species that would no doubt require time to recover after the collective blood loss suffered, effectively limiting Leon’s greedy appetite.
“I was more curious as to your actual talents. Anyone can offer themselves up as a meal, but I’m in the market for someone with the ability to get in and out of a place undetected… Now of course, in an establishment such as this— that’s no easy feat… This isn’t some mortal run vineyard, after all…” He smirked, gaze locked with Calvin’s as he weighed if he would need to glamour the witch or if he would comply without the added nudge. “If you prefer to go enjoy the party, by all means forgot our paths crossed. But if you’d like to take a break from all of that, I’d quite enjoy the company.” So long as he could duct tape the witch’s mouth shut, he added silently to himself, still not sure if he would regret recruiting the mortal later.
Beck's eyes instantly narrow, turning to meet face to face to Leon. "And what, exactly, do you mean by someone like myself?" Her voice is cold, arms folding across her chest in an attempt to hide the tension in her frame. Something about the vampire instantly had her back up, an instinct that was even more so confirmed by his follow up questions. "Each to their own. So long as whoever they're feasting on agrees to it in the first place." Her jaw clenches, attempting to hide the obvious discomfort on her face and failing. "Surely you agree?"
“You know what I mean, pup,” Leon retorted with a smirk. The scent wolves gave off was unmistakable. “And of course. With an overflowing number of willing… participants… it makes no sense otherwise,” he added in an almost mocking tone, as Leon could have actually cared less about if a meal was willing or not.
He emerged from his pool of shadows like a stoat from a tree hole. For a flicker of a moment, surprise crossed his face before settling into a cocky, admiring grin.
“So, you remember me! And you remember us!”
The feeling seemed mutual, even if they still stood at arm’s length.
Speaking of… His shadow hands dissolved into the air, save for the one still hovering near the vampire’s pants. A tendril slipped into Leon’s pocket and pulled out his wallet—not to keep, just a little show of flair. Rather than snaking back to Calvin, the wallet was offered to Leon directly, a playful gesture.
Calvin stepped fully from the shadows, running thick fingers through his hair. He didn’t dare move closer. They’d been close in the dream, sure, but dreams didn’t always translate cleanly to real life. And the more he looked at Leon, the more the contrast struck him: Leon, smooth-skinned and dangerous. Calvin, rough around the edges… and, if he was honest, a bit of a coward.
He laughed, trying to shake the nerves. “Y’know, sometimes people want to meet up without an ulterior motive. But I’ll admit that if I went missing, I don’t think anyone would notice. So you’d be wasting your time and effort on little ol’ me.”
Another laugh, this one softer, warmer. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been thinking about you lately.”
“Excuse me— What’s your name again?” Not that Leon had forgotten, but rather he wanted to send the point he hadn’t thought much on the witch since their time in the event. At least, not recently. He didn’t bother to reach for his wallet, very aware of the other’s continued antics as he held back from retaliating with an exercised patience. His tone had been rather dry— bored, as he spoke. “I’m afraid mall I remember of that festival was the delight in seeing the life leave your eyes.” Of course, Leon remembered everything else as well. But like hell he would ever admit such a thing.
Leon was well aware of his competition. And while he didn’t make blood wine, the syndicate certainly sold some rare bloods to those who dabbled in such industries. Needless to say, his curiosity was piqued stepping foot onto the infamous vineyard, and he wanted to know everything. Knowledge was, after all, power.
The vampire had easily wandered through the wine cellar, not attracting any attention as he followed the rumors of here the restricted cellar supposedly existed. Ah… But how to access it discretely?
That was when Leon’s eye… and nose… had caught wind of the witch who had seemed intent on garnering his attention. The same one Leon all but had refused to admit any involvement with almost a year back during the spirit festival, because holy shit was it mildly mortifying to realize the mortal existed and transformed into a fancy sewer rat.
One that would be quite useful now, shadow magic and all. “Mr. Fleischer… What a coincidence our paths cross again.” Ah yes. Coincidence. He couldn’t help but wonder if the witch was stalking him, thinking of how oddly perfect the other’s appearance was. Leon gave a charming grin, casually strolling towards the mortal and giving him a rather blatant once over in appreciation. “I was just thinking I could use a man of your talents…”
@calvinfleischer
Who: Open. @vievecorcitystarters Where: The Vineyards.
Stood at the edge of the vineyard, Beck's eyes narrow into the darkness ahead. Through gaps in the foliage she can sense it - a vampire weaving through the vines, pursuing its chosen prey. The chase was almost graceful, shadows of hunter and victim dancing between the rows of leaves.
Beck forces herself to stay still, heart racing as she merely watches, hands clenched into shaking fists at her sides.
But, then came the scream, sharp and sudden - slicing through the cool of the night. Without thinking, she begins to pace forward, muscles primed to take off sprinting toward that sound, as instinct began to win over thought. She didn't know how she could stop it - but she couldn't stand there and watch whatever was about to happen.
Suddenly, though, a hand lands on her shoulder - the touch causing her to pause for just a moment, enough to stop her run. Locking a wide eyed gaze with whoever has stopped her, her brows furrow as the scream turns into something different - a giddy, breathless laugh. All a game - a seemingly willing game.
Beck shakes her head, attempting to take a calming breath before she squeezes her eyes shut. "I'll never understand this place."
“An unsurprising comment from one such as yourself,” Leon all but purred glancing over in the direction of the young wolf who had appeared. His eyes lit with amusement as he stepped closer, asking, “…Does it bother you? Seeing so many enjoying themselves at a vampiric feast?”
Blinded
When: VC Wine Fest Where: Wine Stalls Who: Open ( @vievecorcitystarters )
He was glad he was wearing the mask over his eyes, he could see very little and that made the awkward feeling of wearing the olive leaf necklace. He had been restless since the Midsummer Night's event, he hoped the wine would help ease the tension that held his spine like a captive. He had asked to make sure there was no funny business and that the wine was in fact just wine.
Elliot was at least glad that at the very least, his wine glass was very full and he had not been asked for a bite, yet. He brought the glass to his lips taking a cautionary sip. Everything felt normal and the way it should so he continued the glass loosing a good quarter of it's contents in one drink. "At least it tastes decent."
“I would hope so. That glass alone likely costs a day’s wages for some attendees here,” Leon scoffed despite being amused. While the vampire often had no interest in blood wine or near any alternative to direct feeding, he made occasional exceptions when he felt the quality was indeed outstanding… And the vineyard they were guests at as one such exception,m.
There were faint bits of blood on his costume, although his well by the dark fabric. A mixture of feeding and partaking in the bloodlines, although mostly the former. Still, many of those he’d sampled had been enjoying the wines as well, making for the syndicate leader to be in a rather content mood. “You look fairly clean for someone sporting golden olive leaves. Not many takers tonight?” Not that spirit was necessarily popular for vampires to feed from, but the wine in Elliot’s hand suggested an improvement of sorts,,,, And Leon never did have a typical preference for feeding.
Leon is wearing a black and gold outfit inspired by Chronos, the titan, and carrying an antique scythe.
"Ah... Perhaps I am. You know me so well after all," the fox spirit responded with a sly smile and a flash of a canine. "That said, if you would like some additional security on your premises, I could offer a few of the individuals under my employ. On a strictly professional capacity, of course."
“And now you sound like you actually care. Color me surprised,” he mused dryly. “I suppose I can ignore the fact you’re implying I can’t protect myself in light of recent events,” he added almost immediately after. “Rest assured I have heightened security already and there won’t be a repeat incident, for myself nor any associates.”
"Naive words from a naive soul," Ayumu laughed. They truly did not see a point in anything after their first year at Vievecor Academy when their family broke apart. No amount of good grades made their father stop abusing their mother and no amount of good grades made him stick around.
"I don't need those grades to prove anything, sweetheart. Not when I can prove myself in other ways. So spare me the lecture if you want to come and hang out with me right now."
Leon’s eyes narrowed, resenting the part of him that jumped at being invited somewhere with Ayumu. He had never turned down an invite from the senior before— but the stolen moments also hadn’t required missing his core classes prior. Of course there was the excuse of being at the nurse’s… He mulled over the option, feeling salty despite his history of caving to the delinquent like an eager puppy when they were alone.
“I can’t. I need to review notes because I’ve got a new peer to tutor starting today.”
"I always want to impress you," Gloria admitted with an understated roll of her eyes. As he was likely already aware, she wasn't that hard to read. Any psychologist would be able to tell that she'd traded one authority figure—one father figure—for another, but she failed to see a problem with that. The issue had always been her mother.
"Is that how you still see me?" A hint of hurt flashed across her features but Gloria buried it just as quickly. She'd fought tooth and nail to shed her old self—even if she'd only succeeded at burying her. "Scared? No control? Haven't I proven that that is no longer me?"
She didn't wait for his answer as her gaze pivoted back towards where the wolf had disappeared. "She'll be back. I know the type. Until then," Gloria shrugged, "her fear tastes just as good as her blood." These days she preferred them afraid. It was hard to quiver at the sight of something that feared you more.
“You shouldn’t admit such things aloud— even if they’re true. Too many people would take glee in exploiting such a weakness,” Leon cautioned, despite feeling a mixture of pride and amusement. “And we both know you’ve come a long way since then, so surely you aren’t fishing for compliments... As suggested, I can’t imagine your own confidence still requires such reassurance,” he added, closing the distance between them with a casual stroll as he spoke. “If I had actual doubts regarding you, I would hardly waste my time here, would I?” His head gave a nod for her to follow as he continued out of the alleyway.
where: klin with: @leon-blachedone
—
Streetlight shimmered off the puddles that hadn’t yet dried from the day's rainstorm, casting warped reflections across the cracked pavement. The air was thick with heat and moisture, creating a musty heaviness that clung to Calvin wherever he went.
He had spent most of the day in his animal form—a creature no bigger than a rat, easy to overlook. For once, he hadn’t been in the mood to steal, choosing instead to revel in the hoard he’d stashed back at his shop. A few of the pricier (and more traceable) items had been fed to a large snake he’d enchanted with a bottomless pouch in its belly. It hadn’t hurt the creature. Calvin, with his eclectic traits and odd morality, never let such deeds go unrewarded.
But now, he walked as a man and into the very heart of vampire territory.
He didn’t come here often. There was rarely a need. But tonight, something different pulled him in. A curiosity, low and gnawing. A dream that refused to fade—some fake western town with too many teeth and not enough sun, a maw that caught him and wouldn’t let go.
He followed the trail, asking the right questions. Some vampires pointed him along with indifference or veiled amusement. Others smiled too wide, eyes glinting with menace. From what he gathered, no one but him had been eager to seek out Leon. That only made the hunt more delicious.
Calvin’s gaze swept the area when he found him. Leon appeared alone; though Calvin knew better than to trust appearances, especially his. Still, it was enough.
He stepped into shadow, melting into it like water. His magic cloaked him in ghillie suit of darkness, and for a time, he became a smear along the blacktop—a whisper of shape. He crept in a wide circle around the vampire, not bothering to be too stealthy. Let Leon feel it. Let him guess what was circling him.
Tendrils of shadow rippled across the walls and concrete, stretching long and skeletal. One coalesced into a flurry of hands—probing, dancing, taunting. A scorpion’s warning.
One of the hands slipped toward Leon’s pocket, aiming for what Calvin guessed was a wallet. The others hovered near the vampire's face, flickering like inky flames. Distractions.
Then Calvin surfaced—just a sliver of a face emerging from the pool of darkness, his grin casual.
“Imagine the fun we could’ve had if I still had my shadows then,” he murmured, voice like velvet. Would the other remember him? Phantom Creek seemed so long ago now, but curiosity had a way of pulling Calvin toward curious things. “Don’t you think, deputy?”
“So your stupidity wasn’t just an act then either,” Leon voiced aloud, not bothering to turn to face the witch’s voice. He had heard that a witch was seeking him out, although for what purpose had remained in unknown. The elder was use to it being parties interested in striking a deal— more often than not for bodily goods required for spells and rituals that were less than welcome by modern society. Those buyers often had enough common sense to approach him respectfully however, and usually only once invited to do so.
Annoyed by the persistence, Leon didn’t bother to tuck himself away. The other’s indirect approach upon greeting however only further pissed off the vampire, familiar with the magic despite his much shorter lifespan as a witch. “I suggest you stop with the childish antics if you’re seeking the opportunity to explain yourself. You’d be surprised how easily witches go missing in Vievecor,” he added, masking his surprise at the familiar face. The spirit event had felt like a small blip when his lifespan was taken into account— although he had hardly forgotten the annoyingly perfect features associated with the male who had struck his interest at such a time. A weakness, if anything.
"And part of what I've learned is not to be so blindly trusting." Witch blood. Damn, so it would have been safe to drink, but Chris wasn't about to try taking back his rejection. He sighed and raised an eyebrow at Leon. "Do you want something, Leon? Or are you just here as comic relief?"
“Ohh someone’s feeling feisty tonight, aren’t they?” Leon’s voice was mocking and light, a smile on his face in response to the young vampire’s annoyance. “Don’t worry that adorable little head of yours though— I wouldn’t dare steal that title from you. I had just thought I’d see how Teddy’s pet project was fairing is all.” He gave a brief pause to administer a rather blatant judging look before adding, “I admit I had much higher hopes, but I’m sure you’re use to disappointing others at this point.”
