mal

[lstbcys]

a study in: tragedy, 'is this fucking play about us?', found family, love lost, humanity unknown, broken psyche.

( matthew daddario / male / he/him ) —MALCOLM 'MAL' DEVERAUX has been living in Port Leiry for 6 MONTHS. They currently work as a BOUNCER AT SATIN CABARET, and are 44 years old. No one is sure if they’re actually a VAMPIRE or if they’re connected to SATIN CABARET. They tend to be quite INHIBITED and SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, but can also be FOCUSED and DETERMINED. — ( dani / gmt / she/her / 29 / none )

Name: Malcolm 'Mal' Deveraux Occupation: Manager at Anemoia Age: 36 44 Sexuality: Bisexual Species: Vampire Clan/Pack/Coven?: Kanemaru Hometown: San Francisco Relationship Status: Single Personality Traits: inhibited, self-destructive, focused, determined, lost, anxious.

tw: death, murder, blood

EARLY LIFE.

Hailing from San Francisco, Malcolm Deveraux was just coasting through life. Growing up, he'd been thrown through the foster system never once finding somewhere that fit him and then spat out into the world at eighteen years old. He didn't have much in the way of family or friends, but just surviving and being out of the system and standing on his own two feet was enough for him. Malcolm lived in the same shitty apartment he'd been living in since he was twenty-one. Small, but enough for him.

BEFORE.

Now he's thirty-six years old and most days he felt like he had absolutely nothing going for him. He worked at a tech company to pay his bills, nothing special more like glorified tech support, and spent most of his nights alone. Cooking for one, takeout for one, the way it had always been. Mal had a favourite place to eat, a little hole in the wall ramen bar; he rang in his order and walked the two blocks to collect it, deciding to take it home to eat instead of at one of the few seats there.

Malcolm never made it home. A shortcut through an alley was one that changed his life forever. He had no idea what he was seeing when he happened across it. all he remembered seeing was blood, so much blood and-- was it around their mouths? They noticed him quickly, in fact he could've sworn they were already staring at him when he turned into the alleyway. I'll take care of him. He heard, a man's voice. Not from here, definitely not American. British. Then a softer voice, female... British too he thought, but more Americanised. Been here longer, or just not managed to keep the accent like the other. What happens next is fuzzy. All he remembers is her soft, smooth voice, waves of red hair and a warm metallic taste in his mouth before waking up, gasping, in what could only be described as a manor.

A thirst like no other overtook him, and that combined with his newfound abilities... God, it was a lot for someone who never expected to be anything. He struggled, but his sire helped him as much as she could. Jessie, he had learned her name was. Jakoris was the male, much more unhinged than the woman but still it seemed he would follow her requests at the least - well, in the broad sense of the term.

Over the years he grew close to them, they gave him a purpose, a reason for being that he hadn't had in his entire living life. A real shot at belonging, one that the system never found for him and one he couldn't find for himself afterwards. Malcolm fucked up now and then, like every new vampire, but the loyalty between them was a bond that couldn't be broken even by those that tried.

It was perfect, it was all so fucking perfect and then he met her. It wasn't allowed, it was frowned upon and it was fucking dumb. However, love at first sight wasn't something that could be helped and it's not like he went looking for it. It was one of those cliche 'eyes catch each other across the coffee shop' first sights, and then he couldn't keep her - Kelly - from his mind. Mal would meet up with her secretly, they quickly fell in love. They found out, told him to end it or they would; he knew Jack would, and if not him then that awful psychopath of a lapdog vampire Demitri that seemed to follow Jessie and Jack around. He had no idea why, but he was there before Malcolm and they never liked each other. He refused to give Kelly up, and attacked both Jack and Demitri when they threatened to go after her themselves. It was the last straw, he was seen as unloyal and that break in trust couldn't be earned back. Malcolm was exiled from the family, after only seven years of being with them.

It was all too much, it was getting too much and then one night, a night with Kelly, things went horribly wrong. Another haze that he didn't much remember. He smelled blood and then... and then Kelly was in his arms bleeding, dying, and he could taste her blood working it's way down his throat. Hastily, he sunk his fangs into himself, breaking his own skin and forcing the blood into Kelly's mouth, trying to change her before she took her last breath. He sat, and he waited. Waited for her to wake up but there was nothing. The young vampire had killed the love of his life, and lost his family. He had nothing left, and so he ran.

NOW.

Arriving it Port Leiry six months ago, Malcolm found himself a job as a bouncer for one of the places in town. Satin Cabaret. He wasn't sure it was really the type of place that needed bouncers or if it was just for show, but either way he stood on the door, checked IDs and let people in. Broke up fights and kicked people out if it got too out of hand. He got himself a little apartment, not too dissimilar to the one he had for himself in San Francisco, and settled down. Tried his best to keep himself to himself. Like it was before. He's struggling more than he lets on, mourning the loss of not only the love of his life but his family. He misses them, they were the first place he had fit his entire life, and now he's back to being on his own again.

6 MONTHS ON.

A year of living in Port Leiry, and at some point along the way Kelly found him. She found him, and they made up but she couldn't stay there. She wanted more than that, and Malcolm knew she deserved more than that, but all he needed right now was a quiet life and believe it or not, Port Leiry was allowing that. Maybe someday they'll meet again, but she deserves to live her life to the fullest, and now that she's a vampire she has the option to do whatever she could ever want to do.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

One Foot Wrong ; Day one in Port Leiry, Malcolm and your muse ran into each other and Mal did not make a good impression in the slightest. Tempers flared quickly, both parties getting worked up over the interaction turned altercation. Will that same heat rise if they run into each other again?

TBA.

[nsilocastillon]

Malcolm comes delightfully equipped with compliments. Castillon doesn't mind allowing him to feed her sweet words when they both know there's darker machinations beneath them. A violence behind their teeth, as much as their tongues are weapons. His gift had been gorgeous, she almost wonders where he'd acquired it.

But she doesn't ask. Not when business comes to the forefront.

Nsilo hums, "Obsessions only ever end one way," she's opening up a brown file, a wad of fresh-print papers inside. Eyes skim them over, to be sure they're what she's looking for, before sliding them over to Mal. She glances up at him, to elaborate: "When they destroy you." Her step-daughter is not a subject worthy of this office conversation. But Mal does earn a lift of her lip, at the humour he voices.

Christy is on loan, and Castillon doesn't mind it being indefinitely. There's plenty she's gained in the Kanemaru-Reardon exchange.

"I should rephrase, it's a proposal," Something she'd see if Malcolm could handle, let alone stomach. They've worked hard on his urges, and his control. A young thing that's past it's first semester, passed with his head still attached. It's something. It's potential. Nsilo can move mountains with those qualities. She sees it in ever croupier, dealer and teahouse worker she takes on. That glint of something else. Not quite familial, or possessive, but a network. "Do you like your role here?"

Castillon doesn't wait for him to praise, or languish over the detail. She'll know his answer, with or without his honesty.

There's always that notion that Mal would leave town, and return to the family he pines after; a silent yearning for acceptance. The more time she has spent with him, learning him, developing him into a real chess piece. A friend. A partner in business. The more she wonders if he would take it with him, and make amends with Jessie, Jack and the rest of the Davenport brood. Nsilo would not hunt him, or chide him.

She'd respect the free spirit, maybe despise the lack of warning, or courtesy.

None of it matters, until she knows what he wants. A wry grin isn't enough to presume. "Anemoia is a few things, as you know," she finds that she speaks with a passion she didn't realise she still felt, "A gambling house, for the aimless, the lost. A teahouse for the many, a warm place of vices and freedom." Everyone knows what it becomes at night; what the the Anemoia Rings mean, adorning immortal fingers. "You're a part of keeping it operational, safe for the vast clientele," He's security; she can get those anywhere, really. "I want you to run it. Not be part of it." Castillon leans back in her chair, leaves the documents declaring an open managerial role in front of him, his name printed bold. He can squiggle a signature of whatever version of his name that he'd like on there.

She rests a knee over the armrest, allows Mal to think it over.

"I'd like to keep you, you're an asset." a beat, "There's room for development, but isn't there always?" More casual. "You can call the shots when I'm not here. I trust you." Big words. Maybe larger than Nsilo had planned to say. "It does come with a caveat," A finger lifts, and her smile is wide and eyes are eager. "You'd be Kanemaru, Malcolm."

[lstbcys]

"Even more reason to allow her to have them, if she's truly just a nuisance. It'll destroy her, and you'll be back to the level of peace you had before her." He imagined that Nsilo's life was rarely peaceful, but Christy certainly seemed to stir things up even if unintentional. She certainly wasn't harmless, but at the very least she didn't seem malevolent; more like a child who wanted a mother so badly she was projecting it onto what she saw as the closest thing. He could understand that, to an extent, considering how he had chosen to project his feelings for his sire and that loyalty onto Nsilo. Not that she wouldn't have had that in her own right anyway, but there was an eerie similarity there that caused the trust to build almost instantly, everything else falling into place brick by bloodied brick.

The curiosity of a proposal had him subconsciously sitting forward in his seat, and when asked if he liked his role he tried to keep his expression neutral. Of course the answer was yes, he liked it very much but he didn't want to show too much of any emotion in case it put her off whatever it was she was thinking up. "You know I do, it feels like this place, by your side in one way or another is where I'm supposed to be right now." As much as he missed his sire and the heavily dysfunctional family he had there, Malcolm felt like he needed this; it had truly grounded him, opened his eyes to what was important and what should be focused on. No more falling in love with humans and turning them, that was for sure.

The younger vampire is nodding at her words, hanging onto every one of them as she speaks. He appreciates that she feels he's important in the working of Anemoia; he knows that security is important in a place like this. Not only do you have to have competent security, ones that can deal with vampires should the need arise, but you also have to trust them to make the right calls and the lines are so easily blurred. Malcolm likes to think he does a good enough job, at the very least there hasn't been a complaint yet.

Her words hit him, and he blinks a few times as he stares at her as though she'd grown a second head, then glances down to the paper she had presented him with. He'd assumed he'd misheard, or perhaps misunderstood, until he read the paper that spelled it out for him. He would be the manager of Anemoia, her right hand man and would stand in her place when she wasn't present. It was an honour, even if it was one he hadn't been remotely prepared for. "Yes." Malcolm answered instantly, looking up from the paper back to Nsilo. "It's an honour that you would even ask me, that you truly trust me enough. It would be the greatest honour." He looked to her desk, already reaching for a pen to sign the papers. Malcolm didn't even hesitate at being told he would be Kanemaru if he agreed, because what else was he meant to be? He was by her side, always. If she called, he would be there.

He smiled back at her, taking a beat to drink it all in as he read over the paper in front of him. Whilst he trusted her, even he wasn't foolish enough to blindly sign something. After reading, he signed and put the pen back, handing her the paper back. "Then, I suppose I'm Kanemaru."

[freyjaxcarter]

"I mean, I wasn't really counting this as working. I didn't think I'd get paid, anyway..." She had, technically, clocked out a couple of hours ago. But then she stayed since she didn't have anything better to do with her time. And now... well, maybe she should have left. "I don't want to have to use my power, Mal. I can't. What if--" She shook her head back and forth, anxiety clawing at her chest.

"No. No, we need to leave. I can't be near people if... if that happens. I can't--" Her throat swelled and she did her best to suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "Maybe it's best if you go to yours and I go back to mine. You... are away from me. Just in case." Her hands shook as she reached behind the counter to grab her purse. Yes. That was for the best. "Let's go? Before it gets worse."

She quickly shut off all of the machines and then walked to the tables where people were sitting, explaining that they had to leave and find shelter elsewhere. Freyja then walked outside, waited until everyone had left, before she locked the door behind them.

[lstbcys]

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to. You're not going to have to." He could sense the anxiety before even listening to the flutter of panic pounding against her ribcage. "I meant for a worse case scenario, but if you're coming with me that doesn't matter. You won't need it."

Malcolm reached out for her shaking hands, taking one in his own and trying to get her to meet his eyes. "I am not leaving you alone. We can go wherever you want, but I'm not leaving you, Freyja." It was adamant, leaving her not being an option that was even remotely on his radar. He lets her hand go so that she can do what she needs to do to close up, helped to usher people outside and provided directions to where would be safe if their homes weren't close enough, and watched as she locked the door behind them.

"Come on, we need to get you out of this quickly so you don't catch a chill. Your place, if that's okay? I'll deal with the blood thing if and when it becomes an issue."

[ofwaneoft]

Andi exhales a thin filament of tension, letting it unspool between them like thread from a bobbin. “Sure, it’s your job,” she concedes, voice warm, “but even professionals deserve a gratuity now and then. Think of it as — oh, I don’t know — seed money for a new obsession. You strike me as someone who could use a hobby less lethal than vampire wrangling. Take up sailing; buy a ridiculous little sloop and name it Something Punny. Or polo, if horses feel safer than the sea. Worst-case scenario, you blow the tip on good bourbon and tell no one. My conscience stays clear.”

The joke lands softer than she expects; he’s already flagging down a staffer, issuing calm instructions about verbena-laced tea. Andi’s brows knit, curiosity catching like silk on thorns. “Verbena,” she repeats, tasting the word. Internally she ranks the irony: five years married to a war-profiteer vampire and no one mentioned the botanical equivalent of garlic. Another thing he kept from her, alongside his offshore accounts and pet generals. The realization sings through her with a bitter edge, but she seals it behind a practiced smile.

When Malcolm straightens again, she lifts her chin. “Thank you. Sincerely. If it keeps the clientèle from confusing me with lunch, I’ll drink it by the gallon.” Her gaze lingers a breath too long — she knows he noticed. “Sorry,” she adds, unflustered. “Assessing the man who put himself between me and an unscheduled bloodletting. Habit.” There’s a flicker of self-mockery. “I had an upbringing teaches you to catalogue motives like wine notes: oak, cherry, threat level.”

He assures her he intends no harm, and something in her shoulders unclenches. “I believe you,” she replies, softer now, sincerity shading each syllable. “But forgive my vigilance; I learned early that safety is seldom free, and never permanent. Until the tea arrives, I’ll keep close. You’re the only guarantee in the room that I leave upright.”

She extends a hand—not fluttering, not fragile this time, but deliberate, grounded. “Andromache Waneoft. And if you won’t take my Venmo, at least let me buy you that bourbon sometime. Consider it an investment in smoother nights for both clans."

[lstbcys]

He smirked at her suggestions, though quickly puts that friendly smile back on his lips as he looks over her. "I suppose now is as good of a time as any to let you know that whilst I may be a vampire wrangler, I'm a vampire vampire wrangler. They wouldn't listen to me otherwise." He supposed that wasn't necessarily true, if Nsilo had instructed them to listen to him but even then he doubted his words wouldn't hold any weight. "However I think you're onto something with that bourbon shout, just perhaps not the sailing that would have me turned to ash."

"Well I can't say whether or not drinking it by the gallon is a good idea, but so long as you drink enough to keep it in your system." Malcolm chuckled, watching as someone approached with the tea he's asked for. "Now obviously I'm not sure on the taste, but if it's too bitter or something I'm sure that you could put some honey in it. If you need your own source, there's an apothecary around here that will sell it." He gestures for the tray to be put on the table, and pulls out a seat for Andi before taking a seat next to her; he didn't want to risk getting any of it on his skin.

"Feel free to stay until it's finished and in your system, I don't mind at all." Malcolm suggested, leaning forward in his seat slightly. "Well I certainly won't be taking the money, but I won't turn you down on the bourbon sometime. Smoother nights is certainly a great way to put it."

[lstbcys]

send me a ✐ for a random sentence starter from my muse (1-1500) / accepting!

@ohhajeong asked: ✐

1291. ❛ I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. ❜

If you'd have asked Malcolm what vampirism was to him when he was human, he would have said the end of it all. Despite what he thought he knew of the existences of creatures that go bump in the night, he had always thought that he would rather die and slam the door firmly closed than open it back up again and step into the night a vampire. Perhaps he was lucky. Lucky in that the one who turned him truly was the best he could have asked for; Lucky that the crazy husband of hers was the type of crazy Malcolm could get behind, and that as far as he could tell, seemed to like him well enough. Lucky in everything that he didn't have a hand in himself, because that's where things went wrong.

Yet, he managed to get lucky again in finding Nsilo. Terrified at first, when he realised that she knew his sire, yet Castillon didn't let it get in the way; perhaps his honesty were to thank for that, or she was simply in a giving mood.

"My belief system is a lot different than it used to be. Now, I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. We deal with the hand that we're dealt, or get left behind and maybe that door slams shut for good."

[lstbcys]

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

I think it depends on the situation. For instance, with his uncontrollable blood lust, when he was trying to manage on his own he didn't confront it properly. He simply decided that he would drink from blood bags only, and that would solve it. Spoiler alert: It did not, clearly. He needed help with that, needed Nsilo to help him find a different method for coping with it and almost train him through it. For other things that are more in his control, if something doesn't work the first time he'll go back to the drawing board and see if there's another solution he can think of. If he can't think of one immediately, he'll keep using the same solution/method, but he will be working on another and use that once it's fully thought out. He tries to do everything now with thought and intent behind it, because in the past he's done things with very little thought and it hasn't worked out well for him at all.

[lstbcys]

16!

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode / Accepting!

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

It's a close one, because for so long he equated happiness to success and vice versa. It has taken a lot for him to separate the two; a lot of mistakes, anyway. After a lot of time and self-reflection Malcolm sees that whilst success is nice and he does strive for it, happiness is more important. He has already spent so long of his life being unhappy, trying to compromise and trying to bend to the will of others whilst giving up what he himself wants; he just wants happiness. If he manages success along the way then, great, but if he doesn't then it's not the end of the world. This doesn't mean he isn't ambitious, or doesn't have goals, it just means that if in order to be successful he has to give up happiness then he would sacrifice success.

[lstbcys]

@flashfanged

It occurred to him, as his last days at Satin Cabaret approached, that he hadn't seen Madison in a while. Malcolm knew that it was a place she used to visit often, so much so that he would almost look forward to her walking through the doors - a friendly face in a sea of assholes. She was one of the few patrons that he wished to actually tell about his moving onto something else, and more so than that he certainly wanted to check in on her. He'd heard talks of her owning a place called High Hopes, so after sunset he set out to find the place and hopefully, Madison. After arriving and asking to speak to the owner, he almost breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar redhead walked out from the back. "Madison." He greeted, a barely there smile on his lips as he looked over her. "I thought it high time I check in on you - no pun intended. I realised it had been a long time since I'd seen you at Satin. Are you doing okay?"

[lstbcys]

@birdieofprey where: outside of satin caberet

Malcolm enjoyed working at Satin Caberet, he did, but when Nsilo asked him if he would work for her instead as manager at Anemoia he couldn't turn it down. It was an opportunity to repay her for what she'd done for him, as well as potentially get closer to Kanemaru. "Hey, so I put my notice in a little while back, I didn't tell anyone but... You're kinda the first person I wanted to tell here, and also ask to join me on one hell of a good night out to celebrate my last day. Which is today. So, unless you have plans, wanna go pretend to get drunk?" He could still enjoy alcohol, but he missed the actuality of being able to get drunk like a human could. Still he would have fun with the other, he was sure, and he was pretty sure that despite any say so otherwise, she would have fun too. "Nsilo has asked me to manage Anemoia, it was an offer I couldn't refuse, before you say anything."

[freyjaxcarter]

"Oh." She wasn't sure what else to say. Had he come here, thinking it was her, and planning on trying to stop her? He'd have had to knock her out, if that was the case. "No. Not me. Yet, anyway. I just, ah-- move earth. Fracture it. Create chaos using a different element." Freyja had nothing to do with the wind, or the rain.

"There are storage rooms without windows but that's... about it. And it's fairly filled with products." Which meant it wouldn't be able to fit everyone. Especially not all of the people that had decided that Brewed Awakening was going to be where they stayed during the hurricane. "Okay. Good. I'm glad." A pause. "But when you are hungry... I'm here." They'd need to find somewhere that wasn't so public in order for her to feel comfortable, but other than that, Freyja was fine with it. "Not all of us are." She shook her head. "And I don't know what everyone's magical abilities are. I don't ask. It's not my business." Freyja always kept to herself, mostly because she didn't want anyone to ask about her and her past. "You want me to just... leave all of these people, Mal?" Freyja would like to think that she could help them, and if she was able to control her magic, maybe she could. But other than providing food, water, and candles, there wasn't much else for her to do.

[lstbcys]

Not her business, right. He assumed that if there were, they would have taken it upon themselves to ward the place by now, at the very least. He had to hope they had thought of that, at the least. "I... Well, are you meant to be working now? There is nothing stopping you leaving. The worst of it isn't here yet, it seems. We could go to my home, hole up. Though... No, we'll need somewhere with supplies for you too. We could go to your home, I could run home or to Anemoia and get some provisions for myself so that I don't need to feed from you. Just in case, you need your power, we can't have you being weak." Not when there could be an emergency, not when she could need her power.

"Or we can just... We can stay here. That's fine, if you want to stay here we can. You can continue to serve these people, maybe we can even protect them if things get bad." Malcolm really hoped things did not get bad, but he supposed if it did having him there would be useful also, thanks to the healing qualities of his blood. "It's whatever is best for you. But if somehow that sun comes back out, I'm going to have to stay here until night fall."

[freyjaxcarter]

Freyja had been cleaning up at work when the storm had hit and if she was being honest, she could have made it home in time, but she'd become scared. She wasn't sure how bad the storm would get and the last thing she wanted was to make it worse with her own magic. Inside was safe. Inside, she wouldn't get overwhelmed or overstimulated. At least, that's what she kept telling herself as more and more people began to accumulate.

"Malcolm." Freyja breathed as she saw him shove his way through the people. "I didn't... You came?" She didn't think that he'd even try to seek her out. She assumed that he had other priorities. "I'm okay. Yeah. I..." She glanced down at her own hands, flexing her fingers and then curling them inward until she made fists. "My magic is in check. For now." She wasn't quite sure if it would be triggered. "I've been putting out any of the already cooked pastries and sandwiches we have, just in case anyone is hungry. And... ah... making cold tea. There's not much else I can do, I don't think. Or you." A pause. "Are you... are you hurt?" Her eyes raked over his soaked body, trying to find any injuries. Then, she realized he was a vampire. Her eyes lifted to meet his again. "Or... hungry? Are you hungry?"

[lstbcys]

"Of course I came. I was worried. I thought that maybe— I'm not clued up on how the elemental stuff works, I thought maybe it was you and you needed help. And even if it wasn't you, I needed to know you're okay." Malcolm replied, still looking over her as if to assess for any possible injuries. It's his day off, and even if it wasn't he wouldn't be due in until later in the night; he would have to check in with Nsilo, ensure her or the tea rooms didn't need anything, but right now he was fine to be where he wanted.

"There isn't much else you can do, but does this place have somewhere to go, for it the hurricane hits here? A place to bunker down if really needed?" Malcolm had been fortunate enough to never experience a hurricane, he didn't know what was best to do in the situation, but he knew the basics of staying away from the windows and bunkering down. "I'm fine, I'm not hurt. I'm not hungry either, not... not yet, it's okay." There was a dull ache in the back of his throat, reminding him that he would need to feed soon. He was okay for now though, he didn't need it right now. "You.. This place, you're mostly all magical, no? There should be people putting up protection spells, or wards, or whatever it is that they do. Or you need to come with me, and I can make sure you're somewhere truly safe."

[ofwaneoft]

She’s already leaning back, spine bowed like a branch caught in wind, just as the stranger leans in. Her hand flies to her neck on instinct—futile, ridiculous, but human all the same. Andi is no shrinking violet, but she is a startled one, and for a heartbeat too long, she freezes. Then she’s yanked out of reach, spun away like a coin knocked off a table, and someone’s between her and the teeth.

“Yeah, I’m…” she starts, eyes still fixed on the vampire like it might lunge again. Then her gaze snaps to Malcolm—reading him, measuring him, grateful. “Didn’t get me. I don’t think.” Her voice steadies, barely.

“You… you didn’t have to do that. But thank you for not flinching.” She swallows it all down—shock, embarrassment, whatever cocktail of fear and shame still fizzes in her chest—and tries to tuck it under that old debutante decorum. The kind you pick up in rooms where the napkins are folded like swans and the real violence is always verbal.

“Sorry, I’m bad at this. The whole damsel-in-almost-distress thing. What’s your Venmo?” She fumbles her phone from her coat pocket with fingers that don’t quite feel like her own. What’s the going rate for one unsnapped neck? It should be nothing. Nothing. But Andi has always known how to pay a debt, and in a world of gods and monsters, money is still a language everyone speaks. She starts typing: $10,000. Then backspaces. Right. Venmo caps at $4,999. Her fingers tremble as she looks up at him, a touch sheepish. “Or… wire transfer?” she offers. The least she can do is throw cash at the crater. And as he answers, she studies his face a beat longer than she should. Is he one of them too?

[lstbcys]

A sigh of relief that leaves him when she confirms she's uninjured, though of course part of his job here he shouldn't be the only one watching the Reardon girl. He would have to have a word with security, see if they could be stretched enough to have one with her at all times at least on the property. If something happened to Andi outside of Anemoia, then at least it didn't happen on Kanemaru's own property. "I did have to do that; can't let Reardon's investment become vampire chow." Malcolm could see why the vampire would assume she was available to dine upon, but he would put a stop to that.

"Venmo?" He questioned, puzzled for a moment before he realised that she was willing to pay him for stopping the would-be attacker. "Oh, that's not necessary. It's my job, to make sure things here run smoothly. That includes you not becoming a meal." The money would be nice, but he had no real need for it. It was better saved for when Reardon needed it, and Kanemaru if things went well.

"Are you on verbena? Has anyone taught you about that? Even if a vampire manages to get their teeth into you, the taste of it will repel them pretty damn quickly. I can get you some." They had everything at Anemoia, even that which would be harmful to the prized clientele. Mal grabbed a passing staff member, and asked them to get someone to prepare verbena-infused tea, and bring some spare so that he could give it to Andi.

She was staring, he was sure of it, or at least looking for a short while longer than someone usually would. "I'm not going to hurt you. That wouldn't be beneficial for either clan. You don't need to worry."

[therawend]

Thera took in Mal’s words, thought of her own little life she was setting up at the Crow and Chalice. “I think that’s all any of us can look for, at the end of the day,” she paused thoughtfully, “I’m glad you found some semblance of it.”

“No, I’m not going to kill you.” Thera sighed, “You just need a little help getting back on your feet.”

Thera reached into her pocket and took out a stone, sliding it across to Mal. 

“Here take this.” Thera placed an envelope full of cash, a map, and a fake ID into the vampire’s hand. “This should be enough to get you to another part of the country. Remember what I said, about Port Leiry.” When the hunters had come to ransack the hotel room, Thera should have been less surprised. A witch and a vampire holed up together in a dingy hotel was bound to draw wandering supernatural eyes. But she was sad to be parting from Mal, she finally felt useful. “My aunt still lives there, and there’s a large community of vampires. Plenty of homes to choose from.” Thera stuck her hands in her pockets, felt her own plane ticket. Austria would be lovely this time of year. “Good luck Pecker.” 

She watched the vampire as he walked away, before turning to embark on her next mission. She had a shop to set up and Fate would ensure work would find her wherever she went. 

“As I’ve said I’ve taken up at my Aunt’s old shop. Feel free to stop by anytime, I would love to have you. But if you ever find yourself in a pinch,” Thera made a crushing motion with her fist, “this will ping my thread.” She smiled at Mal. 

“Bonne Chonce Malcom.” 

[lstbcys]

Part of him didn't want to leave her. She had essentially nursed him back to health, in the mental sense and physical. He was a mess when Thera found him, and whilst still a mess, he was well enough to continue with his journey; running as far away from his sire as he could get. "Port Leiry, right." Malcolm nodded, clearing his throat as he looked over the woman. They had just gotten out of the hotel room, and though the vampire didn't know how it was known that they were there, it was obvious it was time for them to both move on. "Will I see you there, sometime?" He asked hopefully, stuffing the envelope into his inside coat pocket after glancing inside. A thank you didn't feel like enough, but it was all he could offer as he walked away under the safety of the night, and started towards his new life.

"Planning on saving me again, Thera?" Mal asked softly, but he took the stone and tucked it safely in his pocket, there for if he would ever need it. "Are you... Well, I suppose you have things to do, but that sounded like a goodbye already. You're staying a while then, if you've taken over the shop?"

[lstbcys]

@ofwaneoft

"Hey!" Malcolm shouted, marching forward and ripping Andi from the arms of a vampire and pulling her behind him. "Touch her again and I'll rip your fucking fingers off and shove them down your throat, you hear me? She is not on the menu here." He knew not much about her, other than she was sent to Kanemaru by Reardon, similarly to how Nsilo's little shadow was sent to Reardon in return. They expected Christy be taken care of, so he wasn't about to let anything happen to Andi and fuck up any potential deals between the two clans. "Are you okay?" He asked, voice softer now as he looked over the woman and assessed for injuries, just in case he'd gotten there a moment too late and there was a stray bite on the human.

[lstbcys]

@freyjaxcarter where: hurricane jac

Malcolm had rushed to her home, and when Freyja wasn't there panic set in. Part of him wondered if any of this were to do with her powers, though he knew from experience that hers were more earth based than wind. He wasn't sure how magic worked, not really, and even if it wasn't her then he at least needed to know she was okay. By the time he got to Brewed Awakening, he was almost frantic. "Are you okay? My messages wouldn't go through, are you okay?" He had pushed through the crowd of people who had clearly rushed inside when the hurricane hit. "Do you need anything, what can I do?" He was soaking wet, even rushing through this storm, thankful for the clouds shelter from the sun so that he could check in on her, but with his signal shot he had to check in on her."

[nsilocastillon]

Malcolm's become an important part of Anemoia's operations. A doorman turned frontman who Castillon cannot deny has been allowed to morph into a personal project. He's loyal, which is a rare trait in a man. Dedicated in ways that involve his knees, his tongue — a hunger that is monstrous in its desire.

She's guided him in ways that are more than just his control.

"Your gift was beautiful," Both the ruby necklace and the way he'd kept her shadow from bothering her for an entire day. She might reward him for that on its own, sometime.

Nsilo doesn't always linger on a birthday or its celebration, but she'd enjoyed the revelation it'd given her about this particular member of her employ. She was only a little irked that he'd entered without much invitation — which in the scale of tolerance, means he's successfully removed himself from it entirely. "I did want to see you. Your timing is impeccable."

Castillon lowers her pen and moves a laptop aside to give him more respect than just the bare acknowledgement.

Ah. She smiles at his query. A detail she'd alluded to all, not just him.

Had he earned a right? She laughs then, gestures for the empty seat across her desk. "Sit, Mal." Eyes sparkle with expectation. Careful in diving into old histories. "She's not my daughter, just a product of a late husband's." Step-daughter, is the distinguishing detail. Her obsession with Castillon — name included — is all childish madness that Nsilo has yet to snuff out of her. "Imagine her like a pet. She bites the right people, sometimes."

There's probably some erasure there that Castillon will share only with Malcolm. She doesn't have time for daughters, no matter their capacity.

On a more pressing matter, Nsilo broaches a topic she has more interest in: "Meanwhile, I do have a business deal I'd like you to be part of." Of sorts. Eyes linger on the man, drawing a line up his jaw, to his mannerisms; he's more confident than when she'd met him. In a different way than when he'd been putting doormen on the ground. He's more sure of himself. "Let me know if you'd be interested."

[lstbcys]

"I'm glad you liked it. I couldn't find anything beautiful enough for you, however I would hope that came close enough for your liking." Malcolm smiled softly as she invites him to sit. She opens up, just a little bit, and it's more than he could've hoped for considering that he was well aware he knew next to nothing about Nsilo. He didn't mind it, it was rare that people knew much about him either but it felt good to learn little bits about her life when she knew enough about his to at lest know his previous vampire family.

"Ah, so a step-daughter with a bit of an obsession problem. Seems about right, who couldn't be obsessed?" He teased, though he could appreciate that obsession wasn't always something fun to play with. "I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day. If she bites the right people often enough, perhaps she can be... discouraged from the wrong people."

The business deal comment had his brow raise just slightly, the interest clear in his eyes as he watched the woman carefully. Malcolm would always be interested in whatever Nsilo had to offer him, and if she trusted him enough now to include him in business then this was progress he was happy with. "I would be very interested, Nsilo. What kind of business deal are we talking about? Anything you think I'm capable of, I am willing to undertake for you."

[freyjaxcarter]

"Right." Sure. Freyja wasn't going to argue with him. She knew that she was a horrible person for what she'd done in her past. And even with her magic being somewhat dormant at the moment, she had no control over it. She wasn't at all what Malcolm had described her to be.

"True. You didn't ask permission. But... I liked it" Freyja said, her eyes lifting to meet his again. "And if you were to ask permission now, I'd say yes." Because not only did she want him to bite her again, but she trust him. She knew Malcolm wasn't going to kill her.

[lstbcys]

"Liked it how?" Malcolm questioned, watching her reaction carefully. He wanted to find out if she was just saying it to appease him, or if it were actually true. Still, her offer had him aching for blood. Despite him being better with his control, the aching for blood never went away, especially not when offered up to him so beautifully.

"I'm... doing better now, I can stop myself." The help that Nsilo had given him over the months had helped him immensely. Drinking from the vein was something he'd been practicing more recently, yet he trusted himself to stop with it being Freyja. He had to.