l u s h

salvador mairena, 2600+, marshal for the pluto bloodline.

[ciroocasio]

@salvadormairena location: Wine Tent, Wolfchella notes: kiss kiss

Old Frascati was a very ancient, very serious business. While it would remain true to its roots, Ciro had a dream of broadening its appeal to the varied supernatural races of Rome. From there, they could branch out even further; wealth was one thing, but this was in part about legacy. There was a symmetry to resolving differences over a bottle of wine, and if that bottle was a marker of the Amaranthus coven and everything that his mother had helped to build? All the better.

"Let me see." Ciro had handpicked the servers who'd be handing out samples, taking orders, and managing the inventory as he and Salvador oversaw the operations. Naturally, Ciro had handpicked their outfits as well; this was Wolfchella and appealing to the lycans would be crucial. Lycans who were accustomed to dog treats and gapes required a very particular marketing strategy. "That won't do, here." Ciro handed the man a rolled up sock to stuff down the front of his short shorts. The wolves spoke in knots, "Pick up some boob tape from Stacy, you might not have pecs but today everyone will think you do."

Ciro turned his attention back to Salvador as he sighed at the soft launch, "This wine is six times as strong as our regular brew," lycans had historically high tolerances for alcohol, this would help with that. "the milkbones that went into the fermentation process was a stroke of very unique genius, now we just need a name for when the orders start coming in."

[salvadormairena]

Old Frascati was this ancient staple in Rome, they were parallel to the Amaranthus when it came to their thorough and almost rigorous need to alienate anything different from the status quo. They had a regime and routine, years of a spanning legacy that was not for naught considering their popularity, their expansive vineyard, and everything in between. Rome could be set ablaze, destruction rampant within the streets, and yet Old Frascati was just one of those things that seemed to be at the beginning and end of it's roots. It was why Salvador had gravitated towards it since the very moment he'd cleaned up his own act and stationed himself heavily within Rome. He wasn't perfect, in fact he once thought he'd be some blemish upon Rome, but the marshal who also poised as a sommelier had a knack for spirits; and not the ones which haunted the catacombs.

The Lush could only silently grin as Ciro nitpicked each and every detail; Salvador aided in the curation of the blend, the swift aging process, but he found it almost inconsequential to perfect the branding to lycans. It was where they differed but the Lush could appreciate Ciro's attention to detail, it was part of what solidified his position over Old Frascati. Salvador snapped his fingers, the grin flourishing larger, "Howlers Hooch," jungle juice, trash can punch; their wine was certainly more of a luxurious branding, but a name like that would surely speak to the lycans.

[salvadormairena]

a starter for @counthakan, where: the old frascati wine set up

"You made it," there was shock evident in his voice but Salvador did his best to tame it at the rare public appearance Hakan was making. Within a place riddled with lycans, the Lush could say he was far too pleased that his sire had decided to show up; even if it was for a reason other than Salvador and Ciro's wine reveal, he'd still be way too internally happy about it. "I'd tell you to try what we made but… it's not really for vampires," he chuckled at the thought of Hakan picking up the distinct taste of milk bones, the sommelier instead grabbing a stash he had brought personally for himself. "I've got a much better blend if you're interested, aged with fey blood," Salvador figured if the lycans were to get rowdy he'd enjoy himself with his own curated blend, too.

[warborniphigenia]

"That is it," she breathes out slowly, a smile spreading through her lips as she turns to finally acknowledge the vampire that had been watching her for just long enough. Iphigenia had known he was there, but his presence had not hit her fully until her eyes had fallen upon the Pluto vampire for the first time in a long time. Fondness swells on her chest as she takes the briefest of moments to admire his form before reaching out and plucking the bottle from his grip, manicured fingers brushing over his and lingering for a moment before bringing the prize closer to examine it thoroughly.

Decadence is a commodity for vampires, yet she had never bothered to learn the differences found in modern wine, merely what tasted good. She trusted Salvador's taste on the matter, explicitly. He had a good taste for the finer things in life and she could appreciate, both as a Magister and a former Princess. "I will have to believe you, then, you know I am not nearly as knowledgeable as you are in this particular field."

[salvadormairena]

Connections were power, Salvador had learned that well enough early on; his sire was the infamous Dracul, he'd instated himself as a marshal decades ago, power was important to the Lush. It allowed him the opulent delicacies of this life, let him bargain where he needed to be and yet despite her magistrate status, despite the influence she could garner in a mere pinky finger, Salvador doesn't quite see her as this stepping stone of a connection. He was always fond of her, it was evident enough in the letters they indulged in over the years; if Iphigenia was this status figure he garnered for, the Lush wouldn't take the gentle care of a letter. Harsh, but true, Salvador wrote in such way because she was important to the marshal.

"If you have time we could try it together," there wasn't anything on the schedule for the Lush; Salvador and Ciro had been spending ample time together curating something special to drop at Lupercalia and so Old Frascati tours were delegated to other workers within. "Though I know someone of your status likely has a pretty jam packed schedule," he grinned softly.

[warborniphigenia]

who? @salvadormairena where? old frascati

Old Frascati had come highly recommended by a man of particularly discerning palate. That alone would have driven Iphigenia to visit the vineyard, it's long history merely an added bonus when compared to Salvador's growing recommendation. Yet, she does not deny she finds the possibility of running into the man behind countless wine pairing recommendations made through the years. It had been rather long since she had last seen him, even by immortal terms. War had always been a rather popular undertaking, but the last few millennia had seen a drastic and deathly edge to the actions taken within. With that change, her responsibilities as a goddess of war had increased, her duty to insert herself in as many conflicts as she could to guide those stuck on the middle to safety taking more and more of her time.

Yet Rome called, and with Mars presence within the old ruins, she could not — would not —avoid the call.

What she had found on Romulus' favorite city was concerning in many aspects, enough to warrant sticking around to wait for the dawn of another war she could almost feel brewing on the horizon. But as she waited? Perhaps she could allow herself the usual liberties, just to pass time, of course.

Walking into the vineyard, she went straight to the shop to browse the wares and decide whether to stay for a drink or not,

"Now, what did he recommend, again?" She asks quietly, more to herself than to any audience as she scans the bottles.

[salvadormairena]

"The Amarone della Valpolicella," the answer is stated in a matter of fact retort, the Lush casually leaning against the entrance of the shop; he'd not been standing there long, merely enough to witness Iphigenia browse one row of wine and contemplate to herself quietly. Salvador had his own selection that aged hundreds of years to some that only had a few dozen years under their belt; he wasn't a snob when it came to the origin of such wines, a palette didn't necessarily garner some sense of aged superiority. The last wine he'd mentioned to her in letters, stated aloud now, was only aged a mere five years but the intensity of it's flavor was something that could speak to even a vampire.

Salvador had ensured he'd recommended it to Ciro, and sure enough the Lush located it nearest where he stood; starkly represented to any who were browsing. The Lush plucked it off the shelf, pretending to examine the bottle before holding it out to the Mars magistrate, "It's good to see you, you'll like this one."

[dimitrinicolescu]

"I trust you." Dimitri points out plainly, eyes going from glancing around the common area. He kind of has to, he has not a damn clue what he's doing for the most part but he does know who he can't bring himself to trust. "I don't trust someone so quick to throw some baby bat under the bus to get other people to do their bidding." Or seemingly undermining Xerxes. Senators were chosen for a reason, the Original's supposedly hadn't wanted a hand in things, hell he had always thought the magisters ideally weren't even supposed to be really intervening.

[salvadormairena]

"Likewise," it's curt but it says plenty towards all the reticent Lush could not fully verbalize. He was a shadow, someone who could fit right into the pocket of doing another's dirty work but whatever Pluto had devised, especially threatening Zeke, was many steps too far even for the Lush. Salvador was far from perfect and he'd no right to scrutinize anyone's methods but it was telling enough that even he looked upon their Original maker with scorn currently.

end.

[dimitrinicolescu]

"I don't either." He didn't have any intention of telling Hakan unless he absolutely had to. It'd been a problem he'd dealt with on his own when it'd been presented to him. Every so often, there's still guilt that sits there heavy in his chest. The idea that maybe Zeke would still be here had he been a marshal instead, taken a different path does cross his mind from time to time. And yet he knows that's not the case, that the progeny would have chosen to sacrifice himself regardless. "It's less that and more the fact that someone was so quick to run to manipulation that gets me." It's deadpan as he looks to his fellow marshal. "They can do whatever they want, ultimately." The originals, and yet the point had been that they'd sort of stepped back. "But if an original wants to get hands in the senate, it doesn't bode well."

[salvadormairena]

Where once the Speaker may have lacked eloquence in his words, unable to provide Salvador a clear and convincing image, Dimitri was far more compelling. The Lush was fond of Xerxes but the Speaker had been inflicted with thousands of years of mind control, it was hard to unhook those influences from him and he was certain Xerxes was still attempting to get his bearings whereas Dimitri had cashed in on 'freedom' a long while ago. His agreement to join as a marshal for the Senate hadn't been out of any selfish ambition, it had been due to complications of greedy originals lording out ideas on things that should have been untouchable to them; church versus state if one had to dumb it down. "I trusted Pluto," the guilt in his words was palpable but Xerxes had also once put his faith in the Archfiend, "It was naive of me to think he was anything but some abyssal creature who would always go back to his nature."

[veneriovescovi]

"Oh." Venerio knew Salvador to make some impulsive decisions, but marriage was a big step, mainly when forever constituted a long time for immortals. Some people might have called it archaic and superfluous; the era that the practice hailed from revolved around issues that just were irrelevant to creatures like them. But, still, there would always be something poetic about forever. "Well, congratulations then." If Salvador was happy, then Venerio was happy for him. "Do you need the number for a good lawyer, I have a guy who has saved my life. He's like us, immortal, so you know, he gets it." Venerio was rooting for Salvador, but safety first, not that he ever wore condoms, but that's not what he meant.

[salvadormairena]

Where Salvador and his progeny often crossed similarities stemmed from passionate impulsiveness; the Lush liked to believe himself to be above heedless matters but so often he found himself lost within them. Denial was another strong suit of the Lush, how often had he found himself backpedaling on something for the mere fact of being caught in a lie; he was often good at them, it came in tune with his connections as a marshal, but Venerio could often see right through his sire's obstinate denials. "Saved your life, actually? Or from marriage?" He snickered at that, Venerio had a track record of a less than perfect love life but Salvador wasn't malicious, he could only hope his progeny found someone genuinely.

[sincreator]

"I know, vampires prefer to stay in their own little bubbles, with their sire, progenies and whatever Thrall they can create," Atarniel raised an eyebrow, "doesn't stop me from taking what I want," who she wants, as per usual. Atarniel sighed at that thought. No matter what the future held for them, she'd always encourage Salvador to check up on his sire as much as possible. This wasn't supposed to be goodbye, but rather her trying to make up for lost time and actually, finally, really being fully unapologetic about what she desired, to be selfish. Eyeing the vampire, the Seraphim kept her head slightly tilted to the side while trying to really decipher his facial expression. "You could say that. I had 15 years to think everything through. Wishful thinking, I thought I'd lost you forever," meaning these ideas would've never happen to begin with, but what else was there other than taking care of Haven, entertaining the others and talking to them or, eventually, fuck them? Everything about today still felt so surreal, like she was trapped in a dream of sorts. Salvador was alive, but she'd not only lost Adatiel in the process but also Ezekiel, all the others that have sacrifices themselves for the bigger picture.

Hearing him getting closer, the Seraphim sat up again, with him now being dangerously close to her. The weight of him caused the mattress to sink slightly, and, as he pulled her close, dangerously close, Atarniel could feel her own heart beating rapidly within her chest, like a drum. "And what's that, exactly? To peek behind the smoke and mirrors? To find out who I truly am?" She'd confessed her true intentions to those who'd survived, knowing the world would soon end. Her eyes frantically examined his face, taking him in completely. Reciprocating the kiss, Atarniel hummed slightly as he placed his lips against her jaw. Touch-starved, in a way, but also not, she felt terrible for what she'd done, but at the same time unapologetic, knowing it was the right thing to do, a moment of lust and passion, shared with a person she deeply cares for. Pushing those thoughts aside, Atarniel let her own hand wander. Grabbing his jaw, Atarniel pushed Salvador's head upward again, connecting their lips with the kind of passion all too familiar to both of them. "Don't leave me again. Don't ever leave me," she practically scolded him, but there was a clear indication of desire, of fear, within her voice. Unbuttoning his shirt, the Fallen just grinned into the kiss, "Guess you don't hate me after all. You," she kissed him once more, "should really make up your mind. I know all I want is to be worshipped."

[salvadormairena]

"You can have anything you want and more, so long as you have the courage to take it," a teasing candor cushioned his words, speaking less about Atarniel specifically and more about any circumstance as a whole. Being fearless in his own ambitions allowed the Lush to build his life in Rome today, climbing to the top of whatever influence being situated as a Pluto marshal allowed him. Splendor, opulence, nothing was unable to be uncharted as the Lush built and wove connections throughout the bustling supernatural beacon; and though she fell, caught off from her true divinity, Salvador understood that Atarniel was no different in her drive to succeed. For the first time since they'd sparked this, once game, between them, the Lush took a moment to really look at Atarniel, taking in the slender slope of each cheekbone on her vessel, eyes ablaze with the splintered divinity barely contained within her; she was beautiful, sure, but her attitude transcended any superficial attractions they once had. She wore the face of an old lover, one who he once so passionately indulged with, but Atarniel was her own being and Salvador was swiftly coming to appreciate that all the more as time went on.

"Maybe," a small grin, eyes finding hers, "I once thought I had you all figured out but I'm humble enough to admit when I've got it wrong." Playfully, the Lush nudged her before his lips found purchase on the crook of her jaw and then upon the untouchable vein which throbbed mercilessly in her neck. How often he craved just a taste of such lethality, his fangs ached, but Salvador was not foolish enough to fall prey to such lulling trap. Atarniel grappled with control between them, a typical dance, as she pulled Salvador's face up to hers and kissed him with unmasked intensity, the Lush not wasting a moment to reciprocate, his tongue voraciously entwined with hers. She spoke in a hushed tone between each fervent lock of lips and Salvador could simply mirror her, grinning back as her fingers nimbly undid the buttons on his shirt, "Worshiped, huh?" His hands brushed away at the strap of her shirt, the fabric falling loosely down the side of her arm as the Lush broke them apart and kissed down the sharp plane of her collarbone.

[sincreator]

The change in pace and topic came fast, something she hadn't really anticipated herself, but she couldn't help herself. While she refused to speak on Zeke's behalf or on any vampire topics, she knew just how much the deceased had cared for his sire and his vampire brother. The least she could do was to push Salvador into the right direction of being with him rather than shut himself down. She wouldn't speak of the truth, of what happened, of his last night. Too much time had past between the start and the end of this war, time in which she could really get to know Ezekiel and, through late night chats, Salvador and their shared sire. Still, the Dracul seemed too much of a stranger to her as well. The way Ezekiel described him reminded her of a son describing, with pride, the father he'd always longed for. The way he'd described his relationship to Salvador, filled with jealousy of him suddenly reappearing out of the shadows, was something she'd also not tell him about. His secrets would be safe with her.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, all this time." She wasn't lying. Even while sleeping with Ezekiel, the Fallen experienced hallucinations of him, with her mind playing tricks, making her believe he was still alive. Still, it hadn't stopped her from feeling genuinely in tune with his younger brother, eternally grateful to be desired. She had to honor Ezekiel's bravery, his sacrifice, in every way possible. "There's no need to fill the gap, you just have to be there for him. He needs you, I need you." her voice broke. "Don't shut yourself off like that. I can't lose you, too. I love you." the Fallen froze.

[salvadormairena]

Salvador burned quietly, a match that had been lit but would not erupt; through everything the Lush had to figure that Hakan had turned him for his resolve alone. Perhaps it was one of the few, very few, things they had in common; one of the others only being a staple within vampires considering it revolved around blood. Jealousy seemed to teem within the Lush, how Zeke so effortlessly taught Hakan to step out of his rigid [coffin] box whereas Salvador had always been met with steely indifference. The Lush understood there was care there, Hakan had once killed his own to prove a point of cruelty; but Salvador, much like the lush bounties of blood he had in reserve, would constantly seek more. The guilt bled forward at the mere thought, to be jealous of someone who Death had claimed, an ultimate sacrifice which wrought Hakan's grueling grief and a damned statue in the midst of Rome to show of it. All of this was wrong; Zeke was the optimism amidst the war, sure he'd become frustrated as many treated him like broken glass, but he'd unintentionally become this beacon to protect; the vitality of youth. How foolish they'd all been to devise him as untouchable, under his unassuming youth came unyielding strength and perhaps that was what inspired Salvador's scorn the most; how Zeke had made the most difficult choice for a motley of strangers, for all the loved ones he'd lost. An ignorant and mortal mind could not come to terms with such decision and yet Zeke, having only been a vampire for such a short spurt of time, had done so effortlessly.

Salvador grimaced, "You don't mean that," love was difficult for a creature who lived forever and though it wasn't an outright rejection to her powerful statement, the Lush scowled. He leaned into Atarniel's silent support as though willing himself not to need it; relying on others only meant trouble and though they'd been separated by years he'd never understand, she was something solid to lean against, something that was still fresh on his mind whereas fifteen years disjointed him from hers. Fifteen years and yet still she proclaimed love for him, "You're something very special, Atarniel." And he was sorry for the cruel games they'd both played before Death had humbled them.

[sunriserecords]

There was a certain public appearance that she needed to keep, a certain facade and face in front of the ever-watching public, long gone were the days in which she could act without speculation, she had decades in the public office and was a part of the Triumvirate that once led Rome. She use to be able to dispose of the bodies that were drained on her property with ease, her position on the Senate led easily to the cover-up especially with the past tension with the Eye and now the scrutiny had turned to her as the public always had to have someone to hate. The sneer doesn't settle well with her, especially for all she's done for vampire kind, always putting them first but he isn't one of the Venus line and so she won't allow her mask to slip for him. "I'm far from recommending synthetic blood, the taste is dreadful. We have bottled blood at the bar and our staff is trained in making the best cocktails that don't include leaving a mess for me to clean up." A sliver of something between a smile and a menacing expression crosses her face.

[salvadormairena]

"I'm not some young buck with control issues but... noted," Salvador grinned at that, he tended to hold a more flippant demeanor despite being face to face with the Immortal. "So," the Lush was curious about this, there was always a willing party but so often there were those who'd spiraled out of control and Salvador had to wonder when the Senate was going to ban drinking from the vein all together; that thought put a sudden chill in his undead spine. "-When that all runs out behind the bar do we run a blood drive?" The Lush couldn't help himself, he was a sommelier at the end of the day, antiquated demon and fey blood curated in his winery, alongside others he experimented with. Fresh blood was always the sweetest but the Lush found a certain joy that came from his hobby of crafting even the most lush and velvety blood through some crazed aging process; water to wine and all that.

[veneriovescovi]

Venerio looked thoughtfully around the room at Salvador's mention that he'd be taking off, the two were ships passing in the night. He had his own place, but it was doing well as an Airbnb, and Venerio wanted to use this time to try and get to know Salvador's sire better. It wasn't like Venerio wanted to intrude, but Hakan had always seemed unapproachable. Mean, borderline casual with his cruelty; he'd killed his own progeny once upon a time. That was insane. Now that the old man was grieving, Venerio wanted to try and see if being there for him would lead to the two of them having some kind of relationship. Grief had a way of resonating within people, if Salvador needed to leave then Venerio wasn't going to tell him not to. "Wait, really?" Venerio was flabbergasted, "I didn't even know you were seeing someone; you've been holding out on me. Well, what's her name? When did you two meet?"

[salvadormairena]

It was impossible not to feel the absence of Zeke, even as the party swelled around them it was fairly obvious it was somebody else tempering with the beats. Salvador shrugged, how often he could mention some meaningless Thrall or anything in between but when it came to the idea of something serious his mouth seemed to close immediately. "Well, I mean, it's new," the Lush's hands fell into his coat pockets, shrugging as he did so, "She's a seraphim, it's a bit torturous but I'll live." Something that Salvador no longer considered new had to likely go past ridiculous lengths and silent trials for him to acknowledge it. He grinned slightly, it was a touch out of the box to linger with the untouchable, blood was his business, his bond. "Her name's Atarniel."

[xxerxesx]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

There was only one way to move forward: honor the fallen and piss on the enemy's graves. Pluto wasn't six feet under yet, and for the foreseeable future it seemed he wouldn't be, but Xerxes believe they could piss on everything he was about. If he reminded himself and the other vampires of that, then eventually they'd create the ultimate "fuck you" to the Originals. A thriving family without their influence was that way. "Yeah, I'm gonna be there. I have to be there. Can't let the fossil be in charge of the fun, so I'll be there protecting the vibe. Old Uncle Haky isn't ready to DJ something like this, but we still got to make him feel important y'know? In case we need money or his thrall to do laundry. Plus–" Xerxes cut himself off before he could finish, the concept of why he'd want to help keep Hakan's spirits up almost too painful to think about. Zeke was gone, and if Xerxes was still torn up about it he could only imagine what Hakan was going through. "I'll be perfectly fresh for it. I'm only participating in the Saturnalia fighting pits to sample some stud sweat," he shares, switching subjects quickly. "Things will be alright, Sal. We just got to put in a little work, that's all. Vampires had the run of Rome before and we'll gain the upper hand again. I order you to enjoy the holidays, you got that dude?"

[salvadormairena]

Oh, Xerxes, he always had something debauch to offer even if the Speaker was getting better at skating over it a bit quicker; he wouldn't let those intrusive thoughts fully win, Sally was proud. "Yeah, I'll bring some wine from my cellar, it will be a whole big extended family bash," considering all of Rome was soon to be in attendance but the Pluto's could make it their obvious stomping grounds considering it was Hakan's castle. Salvador rolled his shoulders as thought it would inflict some positivity and optimism within him before offering Xerxes a mock salute, "Gotta follow the rules, boss, you got it." Salvador turned to leave, flicking his head to nod a goodbye at Xerxes, "Don't be late."

END.

[counthakan]

"Good." That was all he said as his eyes gravitated around the room. It felt like any other party, just with a Christmas tree. In theory, he had not had the most time to prepare for this so he would remember to make it more extravagant next year. It could only get better with time. Hopefully Salvador was still around by then to be at his side. This party would do for now. Maybe he should have been interacting with people more, but he really could not bother to do so. "Remind me to hire the cleaning service immediately after everyone leaves." His head canted towards his progeny, eyes still on the room. "Will you be staying?"

[salvadormairena]

"Oh, I'd dream of nothing more than to help clean up after all this crap," stated teasingly his face broke into a humorous grin; it would always hurt to smile along with Hakan knowing what the Dracul was constantly grieving. "But... I have to get Atarniel home later, she's my date," the Lush often never mentioned his more personal endeavors but here he was, as though Hakan and he were capable of some father-son stipulation between their thousands-of-years bond.

[ciroocasio]

"Neva Amaranthus would be turning in her grave, it's true." Stalwart as she was when it came to their traditions and to old grudges, Ciro, Hazal, and this generation were resolved to push towards progress. Something new, a powerful force to be reckoned with still, the Amaranthus had been rebuilt. Different and better than before. Their mutual connection through the pluto bloodline made something about this feel inevitable, "and while she wouldn't be able to say it out loud, I think she'd be proud." One of their own had been turned by Salvador's own sire, he had a grave in their cemetery, and now this act of rebellion was Ciro's means of pay homage to the witch that he had failed so many years prior. He extended his hand towards the other, "So, is that a yes?" Perhaps in the past it was discouraged for marshals to cooperate on this level, they were to keep to their own, their businesses, their problems. Ciro hoped to change that, he and Salvador could begin something new together.

[salvadormairena]

Salvador offered a brief chuckle in understanding, he'd sort of quietly moved along as a sommelier within Old Frascati, a vampire attempting to blend into society wasn't unheard of, but it was an Amaranthus-coded place and they had always been so strictly set within their ways and beliefs. There was, however, something to be said about recognizing these carefully placed boundaries, even respecting them, but understanding the changes within the world and deciding to amend them. Ciro may not have been the Sovereign, but he was of old Amaranthus blood, and his opinion mattered greatly to their cause and coven. "Hell yeah, it's a yes," a scoff punctuated his acceptance, anyone vampire have been a fool to decline being apart of such sanguinary ritual that could, hopefully, under the Senate's declawing, become commonplace.

[veneriovescovi]

"Abstinence? Me? Absolutely not." Denying life's many pleasures, refusing indulgence for the sake of discipline was so meaningless; these saints Venerio could understand, they genuinely thought that if they were good enough they were going to get in heaven. Venerio peered over Salvador's shoulder still as his sire inspected the candle, "I just like the aesthetic." That was the vampire's driving factor towards most things, he loved the idea of being persevered as something of reverence but the truth was he was just as indulgent as the next vampire. Venerio loved to be seen as a dracula-style bleeding heart character but in reality he'd had the clap so many times that they might as well have named it after him. Did they? "Ohhh that's a good idea, I can put my picture at the bottom of the mug so when you finish it you'll see me there, like a reward." He clapped Salvador on the back before he went about snooping through the other's things, "Looks like you're packing up."

[salvadormairena]

Venerio could be seen as superficial to many, someone obsessed with the idea of love but perhaps one who couldn't exactly grasp the truth of it. Salvador had broken his progeny's heart to a fault, destroyed Venerio's betrothed once she'd undergone a transformation seen as less than ideal for herself, so often the Lush was easy on Venerio; let him get away with the petulant gag gifts and his obsession of the week. Salvador shrugged as Venerio took note of how little of his possession's were actually left within his room, "I'm just trying something new." Casual as ever, Salvador attempted to brush off the seriousness of it all, Atarniel had come back from a warped timeline and practically stated they should never go without one another again. For the Lush, that time in whatever void had been carved away for him and the many others who had perished felt like nothing and so the Lush attempted to sway towards what the fallen seraphim needed instead of his own ideals on the situation. Like father like son, Salvador was rather heedless and swift when it came to his relationships, "This woman I'm seeing... she wants to try the whole cohabitation thing." He'd leave out the fact that she was within his ex-girlfriend's vessel for as long as humanely possible.

[dimitrinicolescu]

"Plan B?" Brow raised, Dimitri's arms cross over his chest and he glances to the side before he leans just a bit to keep things hushed. His lips purse and maybe he doesn't know how all of this really works on the inside. Pluto's request of him was one thing, understandable, but on principle, he stayed suspicious of men who seemed quick to manipulate others. "A practical child soldier is not a plan b." It's practically a hiss but the frustration isn't put on Salvador, it's not his fault. "I took it because if anything happened to him, I couldn't do that to Hakan." And they'd all paid the price anyways, the count had suffered one of the greatest tragedies imaginable for a sire. "He doesn't know. I wanted him to have time to grieve."

[salvadormairena]

Salvador likes to remain blase and impassive, steely words that are mare flippant and indifferent than possessing any tell of emotion. The topic revolves around Zeke now and all Salvador can do grimace and frown; the Lush felt it impossible for them to all live up to Zeke and the others sacrifice; the only thing they could do was push forward yet Salvador didn't see how any of them were capable of taking that initial step. "Fucking hell, Dimitri," it hardly begins to edge into what Salvador is feeling; he'd hoped everyone had simple misread Pluto's intentions, but vying for Zeke to step up to the plate; that notion alone had made it feel as though the Lush's mouth had filled with sand. "I don't think any time is a good time to tell him," the grief would only surface again, raw and caustic once presented with the information; it was a double edged sword for Dimitri to be holding onto.

[sincreator]

"Your sireline has their place within Rome. I'm just surprised," then again vampires went through a huge change right now and they could have so much fun together. Her eyes scanned his face more intently, as if to see if Salvador was being serious with all of this. Apparently so or else he wouldn't have asked to begin with. Especially his next few words caught her by surprise, simply because he was being serious. Weren't they supposed to hate each other? All of that had vanished over the past 15 years, seeing as their hatred had been nothing more than a facade to block out the initial attraction, with the Fallen desiring to best him, to taunt him for having killed her vessel Amara. This wasn't about her, this wasn't about whatever happened between them. For the first time in forever, Atarniel knew she could separate herself from her vessel's former life, to an extend, at least. "You're really getting into this, huh? You can't be serious," Atarniel huffed, but secretly wished he wasn't joking.

Instead, she moved on to the next topic. Shrugging at his assumption, the Fallen just grinned at the vampire, "maybe, if he knows how to-" she couldn't finish her sentence. Instead, the vampire had already pulled her into a kiss, passionate, all-consuming, she gasped for air as they parted again, clearly in awe at everything he represented, at everything she'd failed to see before the war but now stood so clearly before her. Sometimes all you needed was 15 years of separation to fully understand the severity of one's own emotions. Her heart called out to her, hoping to never be alone again, not like this. She couldn't stand the thought of parting from him anytime soon or ever. If she could have love, eternal love, she'd be a fool to look the other way. He remained close enough for her to smell his cologne, that slight smell of iron lingering wherever he went. "I-," Atarniel gulped. Now she was the one getting bested, "apart from the wine/blood cellar, I think you'll love our little spa area. Pool, whirpool, a little bed in the sun, for the Summer. I'm already freezing just standing here," the Fallen admitted before turning around and pushing him further into their home. "The entrance's pretty huge, but wait until you see our bedroom and bathroom," the Fallen giggled as she ran up the stairs, pulling him behind her the whole time. Too excited for her own good. Arriving in their paradise, Atarniel let herself fall onto the large bed, arms outstretched before sitting up again to face him. "Fuck, I really want you," she confessed, which seemed like a better alternative of telling him the whole truth, "all of you."

[salvadormairena]

"Look, vampires have their palaces for each bloodline, my sire has a damned castle for Chrissake," a weak chuckle left him, "But it's not all breaking bread and family bonds." Salvador had learned to live with the scant amounts of emotion that Hakan offered him, the faintest inflections which told of Hakan's unyielding care for the Lush. "I'll always have a place at the Pluto Palace, in Hakan's castle but, we're our own people, you know." The Lush nudged her, it was adorably innocuous of Atarniel to be surprised within his decision. "I'd like to figure I'd have much more fun here anyhow," he found it impossible not to touch her, how often he craved for his hands to merely roam over the Discordia whenever they were met with idle time. Vacating the castle didn't mean he'd become an enigma nor a distant memory, it was Salvador's duty to harass Hakan to ensure he was coping well enough to survive. Well, less about the Dracul surviving and more about him sparing others throughout his stages of grief.

That lapse of surprise Atarniel often wore on his face within the Lush's presence was something he relished, a sordid need to continuously outdo himself if it meant he'd come to best her within their silent competitions. "You've really thought of everything," Salvador's dark eyes flitting around the abode, taking in each sight and all the attention to detail Atarniel focused upon. Typical of their silent competition, Atarniel did her best to recover, pulling Salvador along and up the winding stairs which led to their designed bedroom. Her hand slipped from his once they were at the entryway, the fallen letting herself fall backwards onto the neatly made bed, arms outstretched as though she were keen to take up the space entirely for herself. Salvador took another moment to peer around the room, he noted the craft of the furniture, the carefully selected wall color; each detail screamed that Atarniel was worried about his viewpoint. It allowed him to smile to himself, content that somewhere within the horrid fifteen years she had suffered through, that the Lush had still managed to weasel his way towards the forefront of her thoughts. Salvador invaded her space as Atarniel sat up, his palms splayed out on the bed to prop him face to face with her. His head canted to the side, a beaming grin adorning his features, "I've got fifteen years to make up for." Like a predator lulling their prey, the Lush had paused before one hand came up to curl around her waist and pull her even closer, their lips almost touching. "You want me here?" A soft kiss punctuated the teasing question, their lips briefly touching, "Or here?" His neck craned to the side so his lips could kiss upon the soft underbelly of her jaw.