30 | amorphous creature
guro fetish erotica blog 18+ only
material may contain graphic depictions of violence, gratuitous blood and gore, sexual content and disturbing themes
proceed at your own risk
Is it wrong to assume there's no shade nests within a nightbound territory but absolutely outside or at least within those liminal spaces not occupied by anyone? So technically, there a witch could live alone if they just make sure no one sees them fight a lemure off with magic?
definitely not advised!
shade nests do appear in nightbound territories but they’re less common since the ctf works to prevent them. living somewhere prone to hauntings, lemures or shade nests is a real strategy witches use to avoid detection (it's a type of clipsing), but this strategy specifically involves living in a nightbound territory with these distractions because anything to do with lemures is incredibly dangerous and the nightbound are the only thing that make it feasible. we haven’t actually seen a lemure yet so there's no real frame of reference for how dangerous they are, but to put it into perspective, humans, witches and nightbound united for the first time in history during the century of nightmares because of lemures.
Is every traditionalist a dissenter? Can dissenters live in cities?
yes, a traditionalist is a type of dissenter.
where dissenters can live depends on whether that city is held by a council and how much the dissenter's practices diverge from common kin laws and the treaty of aneptyra. only some even have the option to negotiate temporary residence, and by definition, dissenters prefer not to.
Is "where the heart was" cannon or a side story unrelated to the original storyline? Asking for a friend...
meanwolves didn't have a central "canon" quite the same way that meanvamps does, so i can't really make that distinction. it's a sandbox for little snapshots and "what if?" stories.
Hey! Dunno if it's been asked before but how do you pick names for your OCs? A generator? Or just based on the region or something, love your work!
naming things is something i agonize over but also really enjoy! it depends on the setting and the character in particular. my guiding principle is always a particular “sound” i have in mind (what kind of noise i want the name to start with, should it be long or short, consonant or vowel heavy, etc). for some projects, i also like to look at census records to get a feel for names in a specific time or place.
for names that aren’t based in a real language and that aren't just a one-off (ie my warhammer bird people), i try to come up with a rudimentary sound system to keep things feeling similar and consistent.
mihai, the most reclusive member of the convenire, has been wary of you since you arrived. fear continues to drive you apart but it might just bring you closer together when you're forced to face a common enemy.
->meanvamps featuring mihai. contains mind control, power imbalance, feral behavior. also on ao3.
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According to A Comparative Study of Kin Metaphysics, witch telepathy and nightbound telepathy don’t work the same way. This is the case for all techniques you share. Their bodies process, store and harness magic differently than yours does, and many chapters in this musty yellow doorstop of a tome are dedicated to meticulously cataloguing and contrasting these peculiarities. You’re not here for all that. You just want to know about telepathy because according to the section on “mental magics,” witch telepathy can be especially aggravating for nightbound.
Athanasius, you think, trying to call out to him with only your thoughts. No answer. No metaphysical stir in the back of your head. You focus your thoughts, picturing him in your mind, but you never get a response or any sense that he heard you. You frown and flip to the next page.
You have the parlor to yourself this evening. No hatchlings are around to complain about the light so the chandelier overhead shines the burnt gold of dusk, just bright enough to read by. Stretched out on the sofa with a bowl of snacks in your lap and a pile of books spread across the coffee table, you study intently how to be a more effective nuisance.
The nightbound need a connection to speak in their minds, a bridge of mesmerism for meaning to travel along. All a witch needs is a target, a bit of magic, and something they want to say. The book warns that inter-kin telepathy should be initiated by the nightbound to avoid irritation or discomfort. Young and inexperienced witches can be loud, their thoughts chaotic, their clumsy attempts at communication headache-inducing. There are mental magics for shielding the mind and preventing unwanted intrusion, complex skills you’ve made a note to return to once you have a better grasp on your magic, but the nightbound’s principles are more limited in scope.
In other words, there’s no tuning you out. It’d be like having a megaphone or cranking up the TV too loud. There are other spells you could be learning, enchantments you should try to memorize, but testing Athanasius’ patience is one of the few simple pleasures remaining in your life. This absolutely has to come first.
Athanasius! you try again. You imagine threads, roots, slithering tendrils of connection, your thoughts unspooling like spidersilk. You don’t know if it helps. You can’t tell if you reach him or not. With a frustrated huff, you abandon your study hovel and trudge the mansion’s halls in search of him. Maybe you need to see him first and keep the distance small until you get the hang of it. Maybe it’ll help if you know what it feels like first. Maybe—
Something shrieks.
You freeze. It sounded close. Not inside but nearby, maybe out in the garden. Was that one of the hatchlings? Are you in danger? You call for Athanasius with your mind again, then feel hot with shame when you realize you’ve done it. He doesn’t answer anyway. You wait to see if it happens again. You can’t figure out which way to go if you don’t even know where it’s coming from.
Then something moves in the dark. Your pulse picks up. Someone’s here, inside with you. Not Orion; he would’ve said something. Probably not Renaud, either, he’d come closer and tell you what he wants or keep moving wherever he’s going. Caught in the long, windowed corridor where the moonlight trickles through in curtained slivers, you stare down the person you least wanted to see. Mihai is easy to miss. He keeps to the dark space between windows and silver light, the glint of his eyes partially hidden by long, unruly bangs. He’s the smallest of the hatchlings, shorter and slighter in build than either Orion or Renaud. You would’ve missed him entirely if he hadn’t moved.
Was that on purpose? Did he want you to know he was there? You stare at each other in the dark. He stands perfectly still in the middle of the hallway like he doesn’t intend to let you pass.
“Hi,” you say awkwardly. You don’t particularly want to talk but the silence feels oppressive and dangerous. Mihai shifts slightly; a nod. “I’m looking for Athanasius.”
He makes a rumbling, almost animal noise, a throaty, “Hm,” that’s not quite a hum or a growl. He says something else you don’t catch, a quick, hoarse rasp too quiet to decipher. When you continue to stare, uncomprehending, he huffs. Like a dog, you can’t help but think. It’s the exact noise a puppy makes in the face of mild inconveniences.
“You’re loud,” he repeats irritably. “And I’m not a dog.”
It’s working! you think excitedly, which makes Mihai groan and clutch his head. “Oh. Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t mean for the whole house to hear me.” You shut your eyes and imagine everything folding back inward. Flowers closing; seams stitching shut. When you open your eyes again, Mihai has crept closer. He stays just out of arm’s reach, a single stripe of moonlight falling through the curtains between you. “So have you seen Athanasius?” you try again.
“Hm,” he says with a curt nod.
You wait a moment but he doesn’t continue. “Where?” you ask.
“Outside.”
You peer through the curtains but don’t see anything. Mihai lurks in your periphery, staring intently. “Where outside?”
Another bloodcurdling screech makes you both flinch. It’s not a human noise. Mihai looks in a seemingly nonsensical direction, staring at the wall, but you trust his hearing. Whatever’s going on, it isn’t happening on the front lawn. “He was in the garden. Now…” He pauses, tilting his head. You watch him turn, tracking something you can’t see. “Hm. He’s handling it.”
“It?” you echo.
He doesn’t answer. He steps back from you, tilting his head sharply in a beckoning gesture. “Follow,” he orders. When you don’t move, he really does growl. “Athanasius sent me to get you.”
“Why?” you ask.
“House meeting.”
“Why didn’t he tell me about it himself?”
Mihai scowls. He lets out another long-suffering, dog-like sigh and starts to hum under his breath. You’re confused, trying to make out if you recognize the melody or not, when your awareness suddenly goes fuzzy at the edges. It’s the pleasant fogginess of waking up without urgency, luxuriating in blankets and birdsong on a day when you have nothing to do. Your muscles unclench, your shoulders sag, and your eyelids flutter shut. Your head is full of warm fur and soft moss.
That’s right. That’s how it is right now. There’s nothing you need to do. Nothing to worry about in the meadow of your mind. There’s only whispering leaves and clattering branches and the song the wind carries. Nothing more.
“Sacrament?”
You look up. There is the canopy, the leaves almost blue in the night, and stars in the spaces between, and him, lovely and wise. The leader of the flock strokes your cheek with a soft, adoring smile and you lean into his touch with a contented sigh.
“Mihai can be rather heavy-handed with his mesmerism. But it is pleasant, is it not?” You have some sense of movement; of the world tilting, adjusting, another body and mind folded around yours. You feel caged and protected. You hear the flutter of great wings. “Focus on my voice. I will help you back to the surface. Mihai, if you would—yes, very good. Gently now.” You feel yourself rising, carried skyward in the grasp of sheltering shadows. You drift higher, beyond the leaves and branches of the canopy, beyond the clouds, into silver light, into crimson stars, into eyes wide open, eyes upon wings upon a nightmare, hunger of eons, destroyer of dynasties, King-Breaker, Blood Dancer, He Who the Ancients Dread—
“Sacrament?” Athanasius says.
“Huh?” You blink, bleary-eyed. You feel heavy and half-asleep. You find yourself in the little seating area just outside the kitchen, potted plants and patio furniture scattered around a wooden table. You sit up slowly, rubbing focus into your eyes. Athanasius looms over you, examining you with a patient smile.
“Back with us?” he asks.
The hatchlings are all across the table. Orion and Renaud both sit hunched and guilty-looking, avoiding each other’s eyes. They’re shirtless, showing off Renaud’s tattoo sleeves and the scrapes and bruises mottling their chests. Mihai sits between them but he stares at you. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, plain black and slightly too big for him. The sleeves fall all the way to his knuckles and he seems content to leave them there, nothing but his fingertips and sharp, claw-like nails peeking out.
“What was that for? You could’ve just asked me to go with you!” you snap.
Mihai shrinks back like you lunged at him but there’s anger mixed in with the fear, his face marred by a glaring snarl. “You were defiant,” he says. His voice never rises above a hoarse murmur. “Waste of time arguing with you.”
“You may blame me, sacrament. I would have retrieved you myself, but there were other matters that required immediate attention.” Athanasius looks pointedly at the hatchlings. Orion and Renaud carefully look anywhere else. “You have all made tremendous progress since arriving at the convenire. I am proud of you. But these recent incidents must not go unaddressed. Orion.”
The hatchling flinches. He sneaks a look at you and then quickly looks away.
“Orion,” Athanasius repeats more gently. “Now would be a good time to apologize.”
Orion stares at the table. “Uh. Right. So.” He clears his throat. “Sorry for, uh. You know. The whole, like, coercion thing. And trying to make you like me more. And not letting you go when, um, you wanted to.”
You glance back and forth at all the nightbound seated at the table. You’re not sure why Orion’s the only one apologizing. They’ve all used their mesmerism in ways you find distasteful and the one most at fault for not letting you leave isn’t a hatchling. Then again, Athanasius has been careful about everything. There’s a schedule, a hierarchy, a particular way things are meant to go under his roof. Orion must’ve crossed a line when he cornered you in the hallway the other day.
“Do you think I’m weak?” he asks suddenly.
You’re completely blindsided by the question, even more shocked by the expectant looks you get as the silence stretches on. Are you supposed to answer that? Orion watches you so intently that it makes you nervous. “Uh. No?” you say.
“But you like him better even though I’ve been nicer. Is it because I’m the youngest? You don’t think I can protect you? But if that’s all it was, you would’ve fucked Athanasius by now.” Orion frowns at you, eyes darting around to every micromovement of your expression as your face twists in confused embarrassment.
“Or perhaps,” Athanasius says gently, “every witch is different. And because we are not traditionalists, there is no need for a witch to offer themselves in the hopes of ensuring survival, nor is there any need for these dominance scuffles you keep initiating. This convenire is safe for the sacrament and for you, Orion. All of you are safe in my care.”
Orion smiles half-heartedly and shrugs. He doesn’t believe him, you realize. Is that why he’s been so clingy, following you around and acting friendly? Does he think he can get you in bed that way? Does he think that’s normal? Is that how it was, wherever he came from?
Does he miss it? you wonder nervously.
“Renaud,” Athanasius says.
Renaud takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly and resignedly. “Yes, sir,” he says.
“I am concerned for your health. You have become avoidant again since your last incident.”
“I’m drinking—”
“Proper blood,” Athanasius stresses. “Cannibalism will starve you slowly.” Renaud doesn’t take the accusation well. He gets out of his chair, glaring, and opens his mouth but never gets the chance to speak. “Do not lie to me. You reek of your dalliances when you return from the bar. You gorge yourself on that which cannot sustain you and you do so with malice. There are many humans who are eager to feel our bite—”
“I don’t want them,” Renaud insists. He hunches over the table, rubbing a hand over his own face in embarrassment. “I don’t…can I talk to Rowan? Here? Not just over the phone.”
Athanasius’ gaze softens. “Rowan has yet to return from Envred, but he has assured me he will be here as soon as he is able. I can arrange something with Dr. Griffiths in the meantime.”
“I’ll wait,” Renaud says quietly.
No wonder the household is such a wreck. They’ve all got the same counselor and he’s apparently out of town. You shift in your chair uncomfortably and look at the door to the kitchen. Do you really have to be here for this? You feel like you’re lurking at the edge of someone else’s therapy session, hearing things you’re not meant to.
“Mihai,” Athanasius says.
“Hm,” you hear. Then a choked sound, an awkward clearing of the throat. “Y…yes, sir.” Athanasius looks pointedly between you as if Mihai has looked anywhere else this entire meeting. His gaze steadily burns into yours. “I can’t apologize. I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly.
Orion snorts, stifling it when Athanasius glances at him. “What, precisely, are you not sorry for?” Athanasius asks.
Mihai blinks slowly. That’s a cat thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t look particularly friendly or trusting right now. “Any of it,” he says.
“What bothers you more? My inattentiveness, or the potential danger the sacrament poses?” Athanasius asks.
“Both,” Mihai says immediately. Then he frowns, glancing away from you for the first time and looking meekly at Athanasius. “No. It’s the witch. But you’re not careful enough, either. Witches are dangerous, elder. Especially the young and willful.”
You’re surprised that Mihai speaks so boldly to Athanasius, and even more surprised that Athanasius tilts his head in consideration. “And yet you subdued them easily. You held them so deeply in your thrall that it took both of us to bring them back out again. What did you see while they were unguarded?”
Mihai looks at you again. He’s still nervous, studying you the way a person studies anything volatile and potentially fatal, but there’s pity there, too. “Sadness,” he says quietly, “and profound loneliness. A lifetime of fear, of isolation. Of searching and never finding anything. A desire for destruction, for…vengeance. And yet a reluctance to do true, lasting harm.”
You’re too stunned to even try refuting him. Are you really that easy to read? Do they all see that whenever they peek into your mind, or just when they go looking for something specific?
“We probably won’t be killed in our sleep,” Mihai says, not sounding fully confident. “But most animals bite when provoked, and you like provocation.”
Athanasius smiles. “Then your ire shall be for me alone. Are we agreed, sacrament?”
You look at him and he looks back at you, and something stirs in the connection between you. He doesn’t send a message or an image through telepathy or try to nudge you into any particular answer, but there’s something there. Wisps of emotion. A feeling unfurling. It feels vast and endless, smothering, consuming. It fills your mind and tingles across your skin. The word “mine” never fully takes shape but you sense the implication; the shape of hands. The weight of chains. Slits of light and dark, sky and birdcage bars.
He wants you with such ferocity that it leaves you speechless, frozen in fear until he repeats, “Are we agreed?”
“Uh. Yeah. Sure, yeah,” you say nervously, squirming in your seat. Mihai is unreadable but he’s watching carefully.
The rest of the meeting is thankfully uneventful. Athanasius spends some time reassuring the hatchlings, praising them for the things they’ve done well. Orion’s coworkers at the bakery are enamored with him. Virgilio was recently mentioned by name in a travel vlog after he gave a tourist nightlife recommendations.
“And Mihai,” Athanasius says proudly. “The Lord Regent tells me the Council greatly appreciates your insight. I would not be surprised if you are approached for an advisory position of some sort in the near future.”
Mihai shrugs, letting out a quiet, almost shy, “Hm.” Dismissed, the hatchlings drift back inside. Renaud leaves first and Orion waits a while before he follows dejectedly, giving you one last thoughtful look. Mihai lingers and so do you. Making peace has been in your best interest so far so you let him stare as hard as he wants and clear your throat.
“So,” you say.
“Hm,” he says.
“You must be pretty, uh…” Interesting? Knowledgeable? What’s he helping the Council with, anyway? “I didn’t know they let hatchlings join the Council.”
“They don’t,” he says.
You blink. He doesn’t. Mihai glances up at Athanasius like he wants or expects him to step in, but Athanasius is too busy tucking in Orion and Renaud’s chairs, pretending he isn’t eavesdropping.
“I’m…older,” he says slowly. “Renaud and I are similar. Hatchlings by other definitions.” He stands up suddenly, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, sounding seconds away from turning into a pile of leaves.
“Hey, okay, no problem,” you assure him. Curiosity gnaws at you but you’ll leave it alone for now. “Well. It was nice to meet you. You know, properly. We haven’t really talked much before.”
He cocks his head in the sharp nightbound headtilt. It’s the first time you’ve seen it on him. Somehow, it strikes you as more intimidating than usual. His gaze is piercing. You feel like he sees things the other hatchlings miss. The dog comparison comes to mind again, but now it seems insufficient. That’s a wolf, you think. He’s been skittish but now that he’s tested you, sniffing around and prodding to see what you’ll do, he’s getting bolder.
“Hm. We’ll speak more,” he says. For once, he walks away instead of shapeshifting and stealthily vanishing. His movements make your pulse pick up. He doesn’t walk like Orion or Renaud, confident, graceful, but ultimately human. He looks like Athanasius. Like Virgilio or Avudim. That’s a beast barely constrained by human skin, a predator that’s tasted centuries of blood.
Whatever technicalities make him a hatchling don’t matter to you. Mihai is an elder. The moment you’re struck by the realization, he looks back like your dread makes a sound he can hear. The wary look on your face and your hunched, defensive posture make his eyes narrow in something like satisfaction.
i wanted to ask if it's okay if i print out and book-bind some of your works for personal use? and whether you'd appreciate pictures of them? i specifically want to make myself a hard copy of ritsuka's pictures and a good handful of your standalone goretober pieces ^.^
yes, absolutely! i have no problem with personal use only projects and i'm moved that you want to go to all that trouble ;v; and also yes, i would love to see how they turn out!!
In that meanvamps side story they refer to Elsaph as “Archpraetor” is that the Surham equivalent of Lord Regent? What are some other titles?
yes, “archpraetor” and “lord regent” are roughly equivalent. you’ll learn more titles if i need to make more lol for now, we’ll stick with two territories. the way a council refers to its members and leadership can give you some hints about that territory’s history and culture. there might be some common terms used by more than one, but skelveross and surahem have become what they are in very different ways, and their leaders reflect that.
Hiya Rot! To what degree is a partnered witch considered 'off limits' to other nightbound?
As in, would most self respecting/rule abiding nightbound steer clear of a partnered witch, and it's only dissenters they really have to worry about trying to steal 'their' witch for themselves, or is it more a case of, if the right opportunity presented itself, any nightbound could potentially be a threat to that claim?
extremely off limits. trying to kidnap, feed on (without permission), or continually harass someone else's partnered witch has serious consequences for the offending nightbound. in some cases, they can end up banned entirely from future partnership, and that combined with the social stigma surrounding "stealing" a claimed witch is a pretty powerful deterrent. dissenters, especially traditionalists, are the biggest problem in this regard so councils will make an example out of them whenever they get the chance. trying to leave the territory with a partnered witch is often punishable by death.
How often does Corbin look for humans? What's his reputation with government officials lmao
every now and then. he mostly works with visiting packs who are close with hoarfrost falls and permitted to “hunt” in their territory.
i’m torn between him being a known menace and a perfect angel lmao i think he’d be very careful around the local human government and play up being helpless and completely at the mercy of his pack (but happy to be there, of course). on the other hand, if anyone is paying attention at all, he does suddenly show up in town for a while every time someone goes missing…
What are nightbound's sense of shame like? Is a muzzle seen as embarrassing? Or a displeased (assigned) witch? What about one that clearly defies orders in public?
what’s considered shameful is dictated by one’s sire or council, but it usually boils down to things that make them look bad or dangerous (to humans), going against their extremely rigid hierarchy, or any violation of the treaty of aneptyra.
muzzles are embarrassing in the sense that it means a nightbound is young and impulsive. hatchlings are often talked down to and not taken seriously, and a muzzle makes this much worse. some amount of hostility is expected from witches at the start, but they’re also expected to soften up and accept their partner within a few years (if not on their own, then with a bit of mesmerism to “help them along.”) by that point, “extreme” behavior such as escape attempts and violence reflect poorly on the nightbound partner.
when it comes to “defying orders,” nightbound can be a bit draconian. there’s an expectation that younger nightbound will always defer to their elders, and the chain of command from their days of constant warfare is more or less intact even in times of peace (hence virgilio needing explicit permission to speak informally around his superior, and people who were trained by him sometimes still using his rank in conversation). failing to do so is considered shameful but whether or not it’s formally punished depends on what kind of order they failed to follow.
What is up with Mihai? Are there different types of vamps? Like the different transformation forms/types mesmerism? Idk but night terror Mihai is not what I was expecting from the creature who turned into a pile of leaves when we entered a room.
Also! Orion getting jealous! I knew he was manipulative, but wow dude. Reading memories, trying to implant favoritism… was he trying to forcefully make himself the favorite? Or was he just trying to reassure himself?
And poor witch, starting to think of Athanasius as safety :-( it’s rough out here. Avudim makes me so mad with how smug he is. It was such a cool scene though!
thanks for your work and for sharing with us!!
mihai was in his hunting form! it’s the same skill as turning into a pile of leaves, just a different technique. the list of hunting forms on the linked post is not exhaustive but those are the common archetypes most forms fall under. for example, edmund and orion are both chiroptomorphs but their characteristics differ (specifically, edmund’s form is modeled after the big-eared bat while orion’s takes after the big brown bat). we haven’t gotten a good look at mihai’s hunting form yet, but we will.
we’ll also get a little bit of insight into orion next time that might answer these questions.
and thank you so much for reading, i’m glad you’re enjoying it! ;v;
i absolutely love your fics!!! luxuria triplicate is literally a work of art and coming on here and reading your fics such as the drift was literally amazing!! i was wondering if you do commissions? like not just for immediate fics but for future goretober days bc i would love to see continuations of cupid's arrow or cruelty!!!
thank you so much!! ;v; i’m afraid i don’t take commissions, and my track record with goretober continuations is unfortunately not very good, despite my best efforts. i do sometimes get inspired by asks people send in, but that's at my discretion and not a guarantee.
I’d like to learn more about Weyer Academy, please. We can glean from Luxuria Triplicate and its side stories that the culture is competitive, cutthroat, and status-driven. What is the admissions process like? What proportion of students actually graduate, and what do they typically do afterwards? What does it take for a student to be successful? Is Weyer emblematic of all magical schools?
we’ll get an intimate view of weyer’s inner workings eventually, but i can answer some of these now!
->weyer has a fairly intensive entrance exam that includes both a written portion and a magic practical, with the latter being weighted much more heavily than the former. it’s rumored that monetary bribes can bypass some of these hurdles and that legacy students are almost guaranteed admission, but trying to get into weyer without decent magic skill is not the wisest decision.
->graduation rates are low, maybe around 30%. coursework is grueling and some programs actively weed out students with periodic pass-fail exams. there’s also a moderately high transfer rate both in and out. graduates usually gravitate towards interplanar careers that let them work with or even in the infernal realm. many start businesses, go into politics, or pursue a career in a magic field such as elethian medicine or protective warding.
->weyer is not normal compared to most magic schools, but it is typical among “elite” magic institutions (think ivy league schools in the us).
i've accumulated a lot of these so here's one big compilation with all of them. included questions:
->do nightbound subconsciously think latents are hotter?
->what restrictions do latents live under, and why is that allowed?
->any "benefits" for those parties latents have to go to?
->what happens to the relatives of a newly identified latent?
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Could it be that nightbound/ vamps find latent humans (secret witches) more attractive than the average person but can't find a reason as to why?
this is almost certainly a common superstition. the nightbound are eager for anything that makes it easier (or at least feel easier) to find witches, so i’m sure there are some who swear that feeling drawn to a human must mean something. for the most part, it's probably just a rumor, but there certainly are a rare few nightbound who are unusually sensitive to magic.
What are all the restrictions put on a latent person and are they softer or harsher than for a witch in sacramental service?
it’s a spectrum. there’s a numerical scale used to assign someone as “latent” in the first place and higher scores get more restrictions. this generally means they’re under heavy surveillance (where they go, who they’re with, online activity, etc), they’re required to attend a certain amount of council social functions (the more they’re around, the more likely they’ll become active in the presence of nightbound which makes apprehension easier), and their ability to travel outside the territory is restricted. travel restrictions are the most important because, as we’ve seen before, nightbound councils don’t care where a witch is from. they care firstly about who catches them and secondly where they’re caught. they want them home as much as possible for the same reason they make council event attendance mandatory.
similarly, the restrictions on sacraments range from moderate to extreme. they’re pretty similar (constantly watched, can’t go anywhere) but they always start out as essentially prisoners who can’t even leave the place they’re assigned to. they can work up to getting a surprising amount of independence, but by the time they do, they’re usually on their way out to their partnership.
For the vamps: how does that work with law enforcement to have people held against their will as latent servers?
the rules are different for latents. they’re subject to some kin laws which don’t permit holding them captive quite the same way as witches, but do allow the aforementioned restrictions. in order to monitor their latents with moderate to high magical potentiality scores, councils offer odd jobs at their events with hefty paychecks as extra incentive. the higher a latent’s score, the fewer events they’re allowed to skip, although they can make up for jobs they don’t take by agreeing to additional check-ins with the ctf. it’s generally not what the latent would rather be doing, but they still get to go home when they’re done.
What "benefits" do latents enjoy during their service to council members in their estate/ at parties? How did that elder just know our reader wasn't a false latent and would turn eventually? Or was it just personal "affection"?
honestly, it’s not a terrible gig lol it's a real job and they do get paid. aside from general hospitality services and handling drinks during the “open socialization” phase of the party, the latents on duty get a lot of time to relax or wander the grounds. councils retain chefs specifically to serve the latents at events, so they’ll get good free food during their shift. those with high potentiality scores might also have transportation provided (by a designated ctf chaperone, of course).
and in dinner and a show, he didn’t actually know for sure. all latents with a sufficiently high magical potentiality score are treated the same way.
If a human is found to be a latent, what does this mean for their family? Does this mean blood relatives will also be registered as latent, and if so, how far? Would it be limited to immediate family members like parents, siblings, and children, or would second cousins be considered for latency?
getting assigned latent is completely dependent on an individual’s magical potentiality score. one of the factors included in that assessment is being related to an identified witch, but being latent by itself is not used as an indicator. if a latent is confirmed to be a witch, their immediate relatives will have this added to their potentiality score the next time they’re evaluated.
how often and how thoroughly magical potentiality is evaluated depends on the council, but it’s standard to assess all human residents within a territory at least once during childhood, once upon adulthood, and to reassess after any significant life changes.
