rose colored kisses

~ under rose quartz skies you’ll find a girl who always has you on her mind ~ a mumu blog for noctem hq

[rozequvrtz]

~*{ alondra & hiro }*~

@wickedgxmes​

It was time. After what seemed like an eternity -- which to some, a century was an eternity -- Alondra had at long last been given her very first assignment. The days leading up to leaving The Garden and Cloverwood Forrest had been a blur of excited anxiety, of perfecting her curly black hair and making sure she had the perfect gloss to put on her petal-shaped lips. Of tearing through the small closet in her cottage -- with Melody’s help, of course -- to find only the prettiest clothes she owned, and making sure her delicate dragonfly wings looked their very best for the occasion.

Of all places to be posted for the very first time, the Summer Court couldn’t have been more perfect. When she’d been told, she couldn’t help the excited sqeual that had left her lips, only calmed by the shushing of a seasoned Thorn -- you need to act more mature about this -- had quieted her, but once she was alone, she’d practically screamed in pure joy. She was getting out -- Alondra was getting out, and she was on the road to making her own grand adventures like the ones her elder siblings had. 

Alondra had done her best to cover all the information already available on her assignment -- Hiro Tanaka, a minor lord best known for his family’s trade throughout Astralis. He was no High Lord, of course, but the young Thorn knew her job was no less important. With so much chaos brewing in Astralis, nobody was what they seemed... and it was her job to discover if Lord Tanaka was what he seemed, or if he was something else entirely. Nothing could be left to chance, not when a threat against the Garden was more rampant now than ever before.

From what she knew, Hiro Tanaka was a kind lord -- kinder than most, considering he had forgiven each and every single debt in his household. But kindness was sometimes a tool, and Alondra was determined to figure out if he was truly a friend, or simply an enemy in disguise. 

When Alondra arrived in Zhēnzhū, housed in a gorgeous sea-side inn, she was thrilled to learn that Lord Hiro was already in the city. She wouldn’t have to do much digging at all to find him, and rather than having to seek him out, she had secured an invitation to the same garden party as him. While she wanted nothing more to march right up to him and begin her mission, Alondra instead knew that this was the time to show off her skills of seduction -- batting her dark eyelashes, casting him secretive looks as she sipped on a crystal glass of honeyed wine. Watching him closely to see which fae he talked to, which fae he seemed to already know and those of which he had never met before... until finally, Alondra found herself struggling (an act, of course, as she’d already set her sights on a delicious looking plate of banh gan) to choose from the elaborate deserts on display for the guests. She saw him approaching the table from her right side, and Alondra pouted, puffing her cheeks out in a child-like manor.

“They’ve given us so many choices...” She sighed in what sounded like desperation, propping her chin up in her hand as her gaze shifted to meet his. “How are we supposed to choose? I just want to try them all.”

[rozequvrtz]

~*{ saria & haxar }*~

@thenxghtwemet​

If she was counting correctly -- which, she didn’t always, and in that moment mentally had to count her fingers -- it had been a total of eight days and a night since she had left Avalon City to adventure to her new home in Winter Court. The morning light filtered gently through the crystal-like glass of Tatiana’s bedroom, sending rainbows and tiny glimmers of light scattering around. Try as she might to wake the princess from her nest of over-stuffed pillows and luxurious blankets, Saria had finally sighed with a wistful smile and left the tiny owl-winged girl to her deep sleep. The lesser fae was by no means a morning person herself -- what she would give to be able to burry herself in her own small bed in the servants quarters below the castle -- but Tatiana was another story entirely. She slept like she was hibernating, and though Saria was tempted to bring a tray of freshly baked scones (the smell of which would without a doubt awaken the doe-eyed young fae,) she decided not to. As her handmaid, it was Saria’s job to get her ready for the day, style her hair, and dress her... but on that morning in particular, Tatiana had no pressing appointments or duties to attend to. Saria would let her sleep, let her dream -- because one day -- far off as it was --  she knew that Tatiana would be thrust into the bitter politics of being a High Lady. Better to give her restful mornings like these before they were no more.

Creeping quietly out of the room, Saria made sure to shut the door without making a sound -- all the while, cradling a basket of the princess’ dresses and night gowns that needed a good washing against her hip. A soft smile dimpled her freckled cheeks as she peeked at the princess once more through the crack in the door, and finally, closed it behind her and set out to start her chores for the day. Tatiana had a fitting this evening, and she’d been tasked with bringing her measurements to the royal tailor. She would need to go to the market to find the rights flowers for her hair -- and she could pick up her favorite cakes while she was there, too, for when she finally decided to take on the day.  Then there was washing the basket of clothes, fixing the holes in the princess’s stockings... washing her bedding once she woke, too.

Lost in thought and going over how much time she would need for her tasks of the day, Saria scarcely noticed the knight that walked past her -- she stopped to curtsey, of course, but had little time to pay attention to the features of his face... Until he had walked right past her, and she was turning around to face him once more as the color drained from her own. The basket in her hands all but slipped through her fingers, and in her shock she was unable to catch it as fabric tumbled to the floor. 

She knew his face -- it had taken a moment (how many years it seemed to have been, and it had taken her a moment before the realization had hit her so squarely in the chest. But it was him. Her knight, her first of everything -- love, kiss, and... and something much more intimate, before he had left her behind. 

“H-hazar?” She barley squeaked,  her skin and palms of her hands suddenly going clammy and damp. Saria had expected that chapter of her life to be closed forever, had expected the tears she had shed to mean the end of it all. But there he was, just feet from her, in the same castle as none other than Viktor Valentina, whom just days ago had saved her from a frozen fate. “Y-you... but y-you... you l-left, y-you’re not... supposed t-to be h-here --” Saria had to swallow her words as her voice cracked, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck and all the way to her delicately pointed ears. “Y-you... you moved to M-matovaya Zemlya?” 

[rozequvrtz]

rosaxlunar‌:

rozequvrtz‌:

~*{ lirit & melanie }*~

Why would one ever walk, when they had wings to fly? It was a question that Melanie would always ask when she lived up in heaven. Her wings a source of pride, and the ability to fly was a taste a true freedom. She found herself curious about the amount of angels on earth who never spread their wings to fly. Of course it only had to be explained to her once, that they were a secret. Humans weren’t meant to know of their holy existence. Melanie still remembers accepting that, while promising herself that she would avoid earth, for she never wanted to stop flying.

That Melanie never knew her fate. 

She never would have guessed how her marriage would go up in flames, never would have imagined seeking to leave her home for earth. She would have laughed in anyone’s face who ever told her that her urge to fly would be traded in for the need to walk long paths all alone. The Melanie who lives and breathes now has very little resemblance to the angel she used to be. Sometimes she really misses her old self.

Amsterdam is the perfect place to develop a love of walking. When Melanie first arrived, Angels were still a secret, she had no choice but to adapt to the way humans do things and funnily enough she enjoyed it. She found respite from it, a way to create a new life that wasn’t tainted by the betrayal of her husband….ex husband. Long walks whether they had a destination and purpose or not became a way of life. Even when the truth came out about their existence, Melanie had found an odd sort of peace with walking. She never even bothered to learn how to drive a car. 

It was on one of these walks that Melanie stumbled upon another being like herself. It happens often and Melanie usually continues on as if she didn’t feel the slight buzzing of another angelic aura around her. It’s what she was planning to do now, she did after all have to go to the nearest shop for tailors to pick up the various materials she had ordered for a new gown she was making. But the angel was no random stranger, in fact Melanie recognized the soft lyrical voice that was tinged with defeat. 

“Is that really you or do my eyes deceive me, Lirit?  What….what are you doing here? And where is it you are trying to go?”

The sound of her mentor’s voice was akin to a sweet, sweet and heavenly sign directly from God himself. Lirit turned quickly, her brown eyes widening to the size of saucers, and she felt relief wash over her. “Melanie!” Lirit all but cried in excitement, before quickly shutting her mouth again. What an improper way to great someone who was far more important that she was. She could almost hear her brother and father tsking in her ear and shaking their heads, so clearly that it was like they were standing behind her. 

It had been some time since Lirit had last seen Melanie Derrieux — an angel of light that had lived centuries longer than she had, and who had known Lirit since she was a child (when her hair had been dark brown instead of her haphazard attempt at her currently icy blonde) and her parents far longer. It had been an honor training under her as a healer, even if Lirit had decided she wanted to be a guardian instead. She’d learned most — if not all — of the important things from Melanie, and to see her here? It was such a comfort that Lirit felt like she might flutter into the sky right then and there. 

“I mean, I’m very sorry, that was quite rude of me. It’s so wonderful to see you, Ms. Derrieux.” Lirit might have thought of Melanie as a friend, but first and foremost, she was a teacher and mentor who demanded respect. But the smile broke across Lirit’s face regardless, and it was all she could do to stop herself from giving the older angel a tight hug. “My mother and father… I finally got them to agree to letting me try to be a guardian. But I’ve gotten quite lost, and I’ve been searching for Raziel’s Faith since I arrived last night, but… well, I think father’s map might be a little outdated, and I’m horribly lost. I was supposed to check in as soon as I descended, but I got… distracted, um… while exploring...?”

[maraudergifs-blog]

[kimleegraph]

Park Hye Min

[luminesc-blog]

[rozequvrtz]

~*{ saria & tatiana }*~

@nymphcts​

Saria had been… a little on easy, working the floor in the days that had followed the raid. It wasn’t that she found the Inferno any less dangerous than she had before — rather, she considered its patrons the dangerous part, and how she no longer knew who she was serving. Who they worked for, if they understood the rules, if Raphael and Luca were paying attention.  

Stop that, she told herself with a shake or her head. Of course they were paying attention. More so, now that something so drastic had happened in their establishment. It was that doubt that would get her killed. If she doubted the only thing she had now — there was no way to tell if that sweet, sweet not-so-stranger anymore would show his face here again — then she was lost. If something happened bad enough to close down the Inferno, she likely wouldn’t have anywhere to go. She had to keep hoping, and keep confident, because she’d sold her soul and it was what she was stuck with. 

Saria shouldered her tray as she stepped into the club, pausing only momentarily to glance in one of the mirrors. The cut on her face had begun to heal, but the heavy makeup she wore did little to fully cover it. She hoped it wouldn’t scar — but, with her luck recently, she wouldn’t be surprised. The kind woman who’d gotten her out of the club had taken care of her, but still. It seemed like it was going to remain a mark of the night, and even if it didn’t, she’d always look in the mirror and remember it. 

Squaring her shoulders and turning from the mirror, the freckled blonde blew out a breath through her nose. She had this. She completely, one hundred and ten percent had this. Work was work, and she’d be just fine. 

The club had just opened for the evening — only a few early birds has trickled in, and none of them had ordered bottles yet. She wasn’t needed, so she strayed towards the bar, and another curly haired blonde caught the corner of her eye. The girl who had been brought in not too long ago — who had looked sad and helpless and needed a few friends it she was going to make it here. 

“Tatiana!” She said with a smile, setting her empty tray on the bar next to here where she sat. “Mind it I steal her from ya for a bit, Travis?” Saria asked the bartender, who nodded and turned away. “How’re you holdin’ up, sugar? I know everything’ has been a lil’... crazy, but… Everythin’ worked out as well as it could have, huh?” 

[rozequvrtz]

dvrkprinces‌:

rozequvrtz‌:

( RONAN &&. IRINA ) 

The girl seemed jaded. Which, of course, wasn’t saying all that much–most of the people in this ramshackle bar had some sort of horror that haunted them. Given the tumultuous political climate between supernaturals and humans, between the coalition and the werewolf rebellion, there seemed no end to people with broody, angsty backgrounds frequenting little pubs like The Iron Forge. Ronan wasn’t the sort of man who held an interest in getting to know someone, however, beyond the parameters of the standard contracts he performed. This girl could be a runaway, for all he knew, and it wouldn’t be a damn bit of Ronan’s business. Still, he tilted his head as she spoke–a local. Her background might not have been necessary to his understanding of her, but knowing that she was familiar with this place was.

“Ah, we have a funny one here, I see,” Ronan managed dryly, eyeing her up and down. Her face crinkled with humor as she spoke–God, she couldn’t be more than…what? Twenty years old? Practically a pup, still, and yet here she was, all alone in this Gods forsaken bar, sucking on a lime and musing over the meaning of life while she downed shots of tequila. “Picked up your sense of humor hanging out with locals, I take it?” He lifted his glass to her in a mock salute, taking a swig of his alcohol and letting the liquor burn his throat.

This was a new face; one he hadn’t donned in quite some time. Calm, cool, collected Ronan–no longer the White Wolf, but rather, a man who allowed himself to be social. A man who was still introverted, but could go to a bar and pick up women with leisure. He wondered, sometimes, what that would be like; living a normal life. Partaking in normal hobbies and pursuits. Perhaps, at the root of it all, his lifestyle choice was the reason he still hadn’t found a mate…and who knew? In all of his scheming and underhanded work over the years, perhaps he’d missed the opportunity to meet his mate in a quaint little bar nestled in the corner of town. Just like this one.

“I guess you could say my job moves me around a lot,” Ronan said evasively, leaning against the bar top and taking another swig from his cup. That was the easiest way to get information from people–by pretending to befriend them. By divulging secrets of his own life; it made people blossom like flowers if they felt they were receiving any sort of special attention. “My boss does a lot of…contract work. Family business thing, you know.”

“Someone has to be the one making jokes, right? Otherwise we’d all be bored out of our damn minds.” Irina grinned in response, passing the young bartender a tip as he handed her the glass bottle of beer and she titled the skinny neck to her lips and took a long drink. She wasn’t sure what brand, or type it was — she’d long since left it up to him (or any other bartender working) to surprise her. But, it was one she recognized as being one she did like, and so a subtle yet content smile curled it’s way across her mouth as she set it back down and turned to the sarcastic stranger.

He reminded her of her dad, in that callus, yet still a little bit funny way — though not that the two resembled one another. But still, the stranger was similar - -back before her father went crazy as hell and decided shipping off omegas for breeding was a smart and practical idea.

She let out a laugh as he saluted her, but shook her head as she watched him drink. He might have been sarcastic, but his humor was definitely one that she enjoyed, especially for someone she’d spoken with for such a small amount of time. It was nice, seeing a fresh face in a dive bar that was pretty much just a local spot. “Not the locals — well, maybe the jokes with the Dutch punch lines, but other than that, I think I’m pretty original. Most the time.”

She grinned at him again — freckled face flushed from the shot of tequila, because despite that she was a staple in The Iron Forge, she was absolutely a light weight, even if she’d never admit it — and once more propped her elbow up on the bar top. Despite how casual he was in their conversation, though, part of Irina still wondered if it was a front. Yadriel hadn't shown face yet, and he was nagging in the back of her mind. It pissed her off a little, that she couldn’t have a normal conversation without worrying if she was going to get snatched up and dragged home.

“Contract work?” She quipped. “So I’m the funny one, and you’re the super vague one. Sounds very Jason Bourne. You know, the Matt Damon movies?”

[rozequvrtz]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Nikita Gill, from “Great Goddesses: Life Lessons from Myths & Monsters,”

[thickdickgrayson]

the perfectionists (2019–)

[rozequvrtz]

@lupusrcx

[allthingsshabbyandbeautiful-dea]

[lupusrcx]

Yadriel had endured one hell of a week.

It wasn’t enough that one of the prisoners—his special, special prisoner in particular—had gone missing on his watch, and that the men he employed to stop such an occurrence from taking place had been damn useless in preventing her escape, but before that, yet another slippery little bitch had managed to disappear right underneath his nose. Irina Michaels—she was supposed to be the easiest mark of them all, a beta wolf who behaved like a spoiled and entitled human brat, but due to a misstep on his part, she’d been able to slip out right through his fingers. He cursed himself inwardly for allowing it to happen, if it hadn’t been during the night of the full moon, there would have been no question about his restraint and ability to control himself. But damn it all to hell, he allowed her to distract him, and the moment the raid happened—just a few moments earlier than he’d expected—the pint-sized redhead was doing what she did best, and disappearing seamlessly into the frantic crowd, leaving Yadriel furiously hard and furious in general. 

He had his best men working on tracking down not just Baby Doefoot but the bastard that had broken into his compound and mutilated several of his cronies before escaping with her on foot, but Yadriel refused to merely sit around and await their findings. The little beta bitch might have been able to run away from him, but she’d left quite a bit of herself in the process—including her ID that clearly wasn’t legal—and that along with her sweet, autumnal scent burned into his nostrils would be more than enough for him to hunt her down. Running might have been what she did best, but Yadriel had always been a tracker by nature, a predator no matter his form.

His instincts were what had brought him to Virgil’s Den. Irina was in hiding, and he wouldn’t be at all shocked if that freckled face of hers was well-known around Amsterdam’s shadiest black market. Even though she was just a beta, there were certain kinds of medication that weren’t readily available to female wolves, the only way to get them was as a form of contraband. 

He moved stealthily throughout the crowded stalls, it was a rainy day and his sense of smell was muffled just a little bit because of it, but his jaw clenched angrily at the realization that he’d still be able to pick up that confusing fucking scent of hers nevertheless. Right now, though, all he could smell was freshwater on pavement, so he narrowed his eyes and approached one of the sellers that the human government had identified as one of the biggest suppliers of contraceptive pills in all of Amsterdam. A huge faux pas when it came to the mating program for omegas, but he wasn’t here to bust them—he had his own shit to tend to. “Have you seen this girl?” he asked without presumption, raising a brow expectantly as he smoothly retrieved Irina’s identification card from his wallet, offering it to the apprehensive-looking woman behind the stall. “Has she come through here lately? You can lie to me if you’d like, but I wouldn’t bother.” His voice came out sounding languid and at ease, as was his posture as he leaned his large, muscular frame so casually up against the front of the stall, but his gaze was as cold and as dark as black ice. 

“Tell me. Bite-sized redhead with an attitude problem, she come around often?” 

@rozequvrtz​

[rozequvrtz]

It hadn’t taken long at all for Irina to realize she’d lost her belongings in the raid. Her little black booties that had been expensive, her wallet with her fake debit cards and fake ID, and most importantly, the keys to her apartment. She’d been too focused on escaping a particular alpha ass and a needle to her throat to turn and look back. Heated, frustrated for more than one reason thanks to him. She’d had to scale two stories up a tree to get into her little Amsterdam flat that overlooked the river (which wasn’t too hard, considering she’d been sneaking in and out of her house since she could walk) and break in through the window. 

Barefoot. Fucking barefoot. 

Thankfully, her landlord had understood her story. I drank a little too much, that’s all! With her sweetest pout she could muster. He’d forgiven her for the broken window — that had been replaced the following morning — and given her a spare key so that she didn’t have to do it again. Her wallet, though? All of the things inside it? Those things weren’t under her name. Irina, sure, but not Irina Micheals. Rather, Irina Angelo, because she’d thought it was a funny reference to her favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and made her grin every time she looked at it. She needed a new ID, so she could continue on and get a new card to access her fake bank accounts that were stuffed full of money stolen from daddy dearest.  And the only place to get a fake ID fast was the same place she got her blockers. 

Virgil’s Den. 

In the later part of her two years on the run, she hasn’t had to venture into the hub of the super natural black market that often. Her dealer usually met up with her that the Inferno, especially since she’d become a regular, so her visits had become fair and few. But she’d wracked up enough fake personas by the time she’d finally settled into her independent life that the little, wrinkled, old lady she-wolf that helped her build the persona of Irina Angelo knew what she needed the minute she walked up to her equally little vending cart that was a lot more than me the eye.

“Thought I told you to stay out of trouble,” She crooned, flashing her a smile that was missing teeth. 

“It wasn’t my fault this time, I swear.” Irina assured her, but the devious grin she gave Lucy was enough to give it away. It had been her fault — Yadriel’s, too. Mostly his, the more she thought about it. Actually, she could probably blame the whole thing on him if she really wanted to. 

Luckily, Lucy had the old ID’s information saved — and when combined with Irina’s falsified address and birthday from memory — assured her she could print up a copy in an hour or two. Include a few extras, too, so she didn’t have to make the trip when trouble eventually caught up to her again. Irina thanked her profusely, giving her an envelope of cash that would more than cover the bill, and agreed to stop back by later to pick up her order. 

And when she turned? Irina swore. “Shit, shit, shit,” she breathed as she turned in the opposite direction. “Lucy, you didn’t see me, okay? See you in a sec.” Reaching into her pocket, the omega shoved a pair of dark sunglasses over her crystal eyes, and quickly yanked up her hoodie to cover her hair. She did what she could to tuck her grown out bangs behind her ears, yet didn’t notice a strand or two that still fell free. What was with this guy? She’d already gotten away from him once. Shouldn’t that have been enough to throw him off her trail? I mean, Jesus — doesn’t he have something better to do? Her dad couldn’t have been that desperate to find her. Her brothers, maybe, but her dad was the one fronting the reward money. He couldn’t have upped it enough to grab the attention of Yadriel. 

But, then again. He was kind of a meat head. Maybe he was stupid enough to want that much money. 

She couldn’t leave the Den yet, either. She needed to get her new ID. Without it, she couldn’t pay rent — her emergency cash was strictly to be used for black market dealing such as this. Fuck, shit, damnit. Irina took a deep breath, looked back once over her shoulder, and then slipped into the small crowd that milled through the building. Blockers, blood, angel’s wings. There were enough people here doing enough illegal things, that if she just stayed under the radar, she could avoid the dick for an hour. 

Right? 

[rozequvrtz]

infernusvacua‌:

Such piety stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkened streets and back alleys of this neighborhood, and nearly two millennia of experience gave Lys a keen eye for telling god-fearing humans apart from his erstwhile heavenly brethren. Unless he was very much mistaken, this was a little white-winged bird who’d wandered very far from home. He couldn’t see any wings presently, but he could easily imagine them sprouting from the tiny blonde’s shoulder blades, as natural on her as lying was on him. It would be fun to see if he could coax out the wings he was fairly certain were hidden from his view. But more importantly, what would an angel of the light be doing so close to the Inferno at this hour, on this night, so soon after the raid?

Whoever this delicate flower was, she wasn’t a fool. Anyone with half a brain should know better than to blithely accept the concern of a stranger at this time of night. Lys blinked, his face a practiced mask of understanding as he held his hands up placatingly. “Sure thing, miss. You just seemed… I dunno, upset? Agitated? Figured I would check, that’s all.” As he spoke, his eyes honed in from beneath hooded lids, scrutinizing the young woman’s features carefully. He’d known many angels in his life, fallen and un-fallen, and he was familiar with many of those currently residing in the city, even if only by reputation. If she was truly among their number, she was a newcomer. For one thing, he didn’t recognize her at all (that could just be his age getting to him though). For another, every angel of light in Amsterdam knew better than to come to this part of town. It was asking for trouble, and those sanctimonious do-gooders knew better than to court such trouble after the Battle of Luxembourg.

So. Was this little bird fresh off the boat, so to speak? The mystery she posed was tantalizing.

And then the girl did the one thing he could never have anticipated in all his centuries of life.

She sneezed.

That single, unexpected little reaction caused her glamour to drop, and there for the briefest of moments, Lys clearly saw the fluffy white feathers he’d suspected were hidden just out of sight. Gotcha. Immediately, his eyes widened with surprise and he took the tiniest step back, as though the girl had just blown his mind. “You’re… you’re one of us,” he breathed, infusing his tone with relief, and he held out one hand to stop her as she tried to pass him. “W-wait! Then… you know what’s happening back there, right? Were you running, too?” Lucifer below, it had been a while since he’d really gotten to stretch his wings (pun intended) and use every ounce of his talents to beguile an angel of light. It was a unique challenge that he’d always adored, but it had been so long since he’d had the chance. They were falling near weekly of their own volition these days, so there wasn’t much for him to do in the way of tempting them. With his expression now a mixture of relief and worry, he went on, “I’m glad I’m not the only one, to be honest. I just… I couldn’t stay. It’s chaos. Are…are you hurt?”

Walk, walk, walk. Keep your eyes forward.

“Well, you are very kind, but I assure you, I’m just fine.” Lirit threw over her shoulder, doing her best to force an air of confidence into her tone, despite that her nerves were skyrocketing. Get it together! She had a job to do — a job to prove herself right and her parents wrong, no matter how much she was awe struck by them and all the people they’d guarded over the years. She wasn’t ever going to get to live her dream if she already — on her very first night on the Earth — was so close to screaming in frustration and fear.

But Lirit stopped — almost like a snowflake sticking to warm glass — as her smaller body bumped into his extended arm ever so slightly. She wrapped her ivory wings closer around her, and had they been visible, they would have resembled a human child’s security blanket around her shoulders. They were her security blanket, even if she’d tried her best to stop the habit before she’d descended.

Lirit turned, then lifted her chin to look at him, dark eyes blinking in shock, before she quickly looked at anything but him. Her feet, the ground, the alley wall to her right. You’re one of us. 

“You —“ She started, but swallowed. He could have been lying. But, Lirit hadn’t ever had to… well, behind the Gates, everybody had been divine. There had been no devising if someone was telling the truth or not, because it simply wasn’t done. Heaven wasn’t full of lies.

She stepped back slightly, wings tightening enough around her to visibly wrinkle her blouse. “You… you were in there?” Her eyes flickered back to his face, jus a little bit of awe on her face.

[rozequvrtz]

rosaxlunar‌:

“You should find a new job,” Catarina spoke softly, not failing to notice how alarmed the girl before her was. “those monsters only watch out for their own and at the end of the day, you are merely a tool that can be thrown away when no longer convenient, or worse, food.” Catarina wasn’t sure why she cared so much, normally she wouldn’t give any advice at all. “I don’t understand what led you here, but I have no doubts that you can do better.” 

Catarina wiped at the obvious traces of blood she could see, trying her best not to instil any more pain than necessary. Catarina, as tough and intimidating as she could be, found that she had a soft spot for women who reminded her of her little sister. And the longer she stayed around Saria, the more she wondered if her sister would have been anything like her, were she not dead of course. So if Catarina was softer with her words, and far more gentle than initially, it was strictly because her sister still haunted her in the eyes of every young soul who had an air of innocence or purity.  

“Saria, lovely name…I’m Catarina. Now, I’m gonna get out of here soon, want to come with me? Or you willing to risk it on your own?” 

But a new job wasn’t an option. Heck — everybody here should have gotten a new job. Stuff was always crazy and wild within the sex den, but this? This was chaos of another making. She’d never been scared for her life down here. Well, maybe once, when she’s first stepped in and stared into the black pits of Raphael Crossbone and sold her soul away. But ever since then, Luca and Raphael had kept her safe. Made sure she was clothed, fed, and kept away from fangs and full moons unless it was something she chose to get involved in. 

Which, she didn’t. 

But never had she been frightened like this while on the job. And almost… almost eaten, practically — and the strange woman (Catarina, that sounded a little foreign) was exactly right about being food. Saria was the bottom of the food chain down here. Defenseless, without any kind of supernatural aid on her side. The little human was, well, a little human. 

“O-oh, I think I’d be —“ She swallowed back a half laugh, half sob. That was the relief mixing with the crazy idea that she might actually make it out of here. “— I-I think I’d be dang pretty s-stupid, tryin’ to make it outta here by myself, Miss Catarina.”

It took a moment, but Saria clumsy got to her feet. Dang, she’d really just picked a bad day to wear such tall heels. Her fishnets were ripped, her makeup smeared — a clear indication that she truly could have done better at any other establishment. “Almost as stupid a-as stickin’ around a-as a nine-to-five.” More like nine at night until five in the morning, but all the same. The stranger was right, and despite that Saria knew better than to go around trusting the people that visited the Inferno, she didn’t have much of a choice. Catarina’s kindness was rare, and likely her only shot at escaping without anymore blood on her. 

[rozequvrtz]

~*{ lirit & melanie }*~

@rosaxlunar​

Lirit was -- by no means -- familiar with the city. She had followed the map her father had given her meticulously, yet she felt as if she’d been going in circles for hours now. Amsterdam... well, it was no Heaven. Navigating such a holy space had been like breathing. Of course, she’d grown up within the gates, but... but there had been an order. Law, even, where everything had it’s own place. Things had gone where they belonged, and that was that. Simple -- and clean -- and perfect in every way. 

Lord watch over her, this place was not perfect, or clean. 

Finally, puffing her cheeks out, the fledgling angel was finally forced to pull the map away from her face and look where she was going. The map must have been outdated -- because there were things moving, and were cars supposed to go that fast?

Lirit sighed in frustration, carefully folding it and tucking it into into her pale blue leather purse that hung from her shoulder. She could feel her hidden wings droop, perfectly groomed feathers touching the cobble stone street. “I’m so late. What are they going to think of me, now?”

[rozequvrtz]

naturenocturne‌:

rozequvrtz‌:

rozequvrtz‌:

~*{ saria & viktor }*~

Viktor could feel the ice creak and groan, even beneath his slow and steady movements, but he kept his focus trained solely on the young woman. She stood there trembling, each shift making the ground beneath her less and less stable. “It’s okay. I can handle it, I promise.“ He told her, pausing yet again before moving closer, his footing becoming more sure as he moved closer. “Saria, was it? Just stay right-” The werewolf froze then, hearing the fatal crack of the ice before the human plunged into the frigid waters below, disappearing from sight quicker than he could react. One moment, she was there, and the next, all he could see were wisps of blonde sinking out of sight with a splash.

“No!” There was no time for caution now. Viktor sprinted forward, ice crumbling in his wake before he dove head-first into the opening within the frozen lake. The sudden shock of cold to his system nearly took the wind out of him, but the urgency of the situation kept him from gulping in lungfuls of pond water. He kicked downwards, hands groping blindly in the dark waters as his eyes adjusted to the new setting. Viktor felt his fingers connect with something solid, like a sodden winter jacket and he immediately took hold. No, no, no, no, no. He reached down further before realizing that he had found her arm. The pakhan pulled her towards him, hand going to her waist before he turned his gaze upwards, using all his strength to drag the both of them back to the surface despite the heavy winter gear pulling him down. Quickly…Have to move… He broke through the water with a gasp, sharpened nails digging into the ice as Viktor hauled Saria out of the frozen depths and back to shore. 

By the time he had made it to land, his muscles were screaming in agony, the chill seeping into his very pores and making him feel sluggish, but none of it mattered. “Miss? Miss Saria, wake up!” Viktor’s hands cupped the woman’s freckled face, wiping away her dripping blonde hair as he examined her more closely. Was she breathing? His heart was hammering away so furiously that he wasn’t sure. Viktor’s hand moved down to her slim throat, feeling at least the slightest indication of a pulse. Weak, but still there. The alpha tried again, trying not to let the panic creep its way up his throat and strangle him. “Saria, can you hear me?”

She didn’t really remember closing her eyes when the water covered them — nor did she remember loosing consciousness. It was all so quick. Never in her life — and sadly, she had passed out before — has she slipped into the dark so quickly. It must have been the shock of the cold water, racing up to meet her small frame as she fell to meet it. One minute, she was looking like a freighted doe into the warm brown eyes of the stranger, and the next, the warmth was gone and she was surrounded by silence.

She thought she’d at least have a moment to ask forgiveness before her life was over. To apologize for her actions, to make peace with the horrible world around her. She always thought she’d die old and cozy in a bed, lying next to someone who cared about her, with no worries or regrets. Even working in such a pit of sin, that had always been the way she’d thought she’d really and truly go.

At least dying at the hands of a werewolf or vampire or fallen angel would have been a bit more eventful than freezing to death, and not even being conscious long enough to feel that cold.

But it swallowed her whole, like a great beast. There wasn’t even a light. There was supposed to be a light, wasn’t there? And oh, that poor sweet stranger had had to watch her die. With his kind words and gentle eyes. Saria hadn’t wanted that. It would have been better if he hadn’t been there — even if she was selfishly thankful she’d gotten to say her name to one more person. One more person to remember her, perhaps — but in such an awful and sad way.

He didn’t deserve that.

It was several, long, strange moments before Saria was dragged out of the dark abruptly and the cold struck her veins akin to lightning. Her eyes fluttered open — pink lips and normal flushed face a sickly, strange shade of blue — and found herself once more locked on his warm brown eyes. Her breathing didn’t increase, though, and it was a moment more before the air around her filled her lungs once more and she gagged on the icy water that was almost her grave.

Was this another chance?

She chocked, coughed, and turned her head to the side as a trembling and cold hand lept up out of instinct and closed around his wrist. Wheezing, struggling to breath, with tears that began to blur her vision and spill down her half frozen cheeks. How long has she been under the water? Was this real, or perhaps some illusion of what might have happened if he’d gotten to her fast enough? The cold felt real, now. It was settling into her bones at an alarming rate, the soaked clothing that clung to her like a second skin causing her to shiver and shake as if she was a leaf in an autumn breeze. She’d never been so cold before. Her grip on him tightened, and as she coughed and wheezed and started to heave in air that was definitely real — it had to be real — and had to close her eyes again to cope with the force of it. She wanted to keep her eyes closed. Maybe that would warm her up. She could curl into the snow covered ground and sleep for a while.

And the scarf — she could buy a new scarf when she woke up. But right then? It was cold, and she only wanted to sleep, because the barely-there warmth of his hand on her throat… it was strangely comforting.