●︎ when: april 22nd, 2019
●︎ where: black manor, lotus night
●︎ with: @mabel-mott
to understand valentino, one had to first endure the depravity he knows as life. since his youth, the prospect of the church was instilled in him as early as he could recall. but he had his father, his siblings; they were a dysfunctional, slightly unhinged household with fluctuating personalities and a loose father who gave love in the form of a twenty-dollar bill. to valentino, this used to be what he looked forward to. every chore, every good grade, every secret he kept for his siblings; a crisp twenty dollar bill would be placed on his greedy hands. he didn’t take notice of his father’s unbecoming until it was too late, he didn’t press his siblings to stop sneaking out at such late hours till he watched with his own eyes the three of them shot down mercilessly. so you see, valentino dwells in environments were the consensus need to feel, to experience, and take a leap at life with one common goal: to possess.
he doesn’t ponder much on the first impression he’ll have on mabel, but perhaps he worries he won’t find a common denominator between them. she was a twin but she held a very specific flare macaulay did not. tonight brought the perfect opportunity for valentino to get to know his lover’s missing piece. drunk or not, valentino was a convinced man. as she followed, he took not a second longer and extends an arm out, sweeping the blonde underneath them.
“uh. wrong answer. you gotta’ give me something. that boy’s making me go insane,” his comical stance fades for a bit, grin faltering at the sides. meeting macaulay was a whirlwind in disguise. he didn’t feel the tug and pull at first, so enamored by what he imagined their future to be he never got a grasp on their actual reality. his entire ideals were tested and he gave them up willingly. how could that be? “mhm, practically every guy in my fraternity wants to f—” a shred of conscious stopped him from making a complete fool of himself. he sighed heavily, clearing up his throat and averting his eyes from mabel’s direction. he tended to be blunt, sure, but was smart not to overshare. his vision was turning hazier by the minute but he threads on as if nothing’s matter. “hm. um, yeah. let’s pretend i didn’t say that.”
after the slight awkward shift, they neared the first room. no sound resonated behind the door, but he could’ve sworn he’s seen at least a dozen guests enter it’s chambers. being in the midst of chaos had been his birthright, and he was ready to leap into whatever lied before them. “that’s the thing, mabel; nothing frightens me.” he spoke with confidence, hands locked on the doorknob. an enchantment was placed to open for any other than humans so no entry conversation, password exchanged was needed. it was quite an elaborate mechanism thanks to his truly. he takes his arm off of mabel to open the door fully, head poking in before he widened the door for her to step through. an archaic picture painted itself in front of them; vaympires feeding on visibly aware men and women alike, a few mingling around the far corners sipping on crimson flutes while others lounged around on the couch absentmindedly. they were aristocrats with a glorious thirst valentino had always envied. he was wide-eyed and ready to be the main course. first, he had to make sure mabel was willing to join him. “pick your poison.” he says softly, the door behind them closing on it’s own.
when: lotus night; april 22nd, 2019
where: black manor
with: @llnnx
one of mabel’s quirks, or perhaps even a tic if you look at it in a particular way, is to ensure she go unnoticed in larger settings. she remains in the peripheries, in the shadows, in the places where she is overlooked and able to observe at her own pace, to make her own assumptions and opinions of situations she would otherwise avoid contributing to. lotus night is no different. she arrived earlier not for the social aspect of the party, nor to participate in a night designed for optimal entertainment. no, she attended solely for the company. each of her siblings looked forward to the event, and while macaulay had come on his own, mabel tagged along with her sisters in the hopes of being surrounded by individuals without actually having to converse with anyone. until valentino approached and catapulted her into a situation she had not expected.
with his arm draping over her slight frame, mabel feels herself shrinking. if eyes follow them to their destination surely they will see only a tall, rather handsome wytch escorting an unassuming friend to another part of the manor. they will not put a name to her unfamiliar face. won’t they? not that she’s embarrassed to be seen with the man. after all, there is a great chance he will one day be a relative of hers if things progress better than had this evening. still, mabel mott is used to going unnoticed and hopes that her shrinking figure may one day disappear into nothing.
his pushing inquiry gives her pause, and she’s unsure how to answer his insistent question. normally she is her brother’s greatest secret-keeper. there is a whole world of information shared only between the mott twins that no soul is able to uncover. yet here is an individual persistently prying into that very trove of information like he’s entitled. surely macaulay has told him his feelings, mabel tells herself, unless there’s something he hasn’t shared. she thinks back to her conversation with her brother earlier in the night and a smile rises to her lips. “love struck puppy” she recalls him saying.
“you’re intriguing to him, and moreso to me,” she offers him by way of explanation, “i’ve never seen my brother react in such a way to another individual,” the truth spills from her lips like a cascade, “in a way it alarms me.” is now the time to give the man the “twin sister” talk? she is about to continue when he comments about his fraternity. she has seen the men who call themselves found brothers before, usually in passing through her escapades with macaulay. most of them are handsome and she will give the men that, and her companion’s unfinished comment comes with much surprise. “no let’s not,” mabel feels a pulsing redness rise to her cheeks and she’s thankful her sister forced her to apply makeup there, “i’ve been under the impression most of them hate me for sharing time with macaulay,” she muses with a light smile.
as they continue through the manor she loses track of each corner they’ve taken and finds herself feeling somewhat turned around and, well, lost. valentino’s answer sends a shiver down her spine and she’s unsure if it’s his words or the sight unfolding before her as he opens the door to an unassuming room to reveal what mabel can only describe as a very sexual feast taking place. the nonchalance in the room felt thick on the air and she enters, rather timidly, behind valentino. her eyes dart from the various faces lining the walls and ornate furniture and the sight of all that blood forces her own heart to beat slightly faster than its already nervously racing rate. “i --” she tries to respond, her confidence in the night draining as quickly as the man’s blood seated directly in front of her. “i’ve never --” again she finds herself uncomprehending, and as her eyes meet valentino’s he’s sure to see there an air of uncertainty mixed with fascination, excitement, and intrigue.
despite mabel mott’s skittish demeanor, there is an air of curiosity about her that forces her feet forward. “will you show me?”
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