αѕ тнε тαlε gσεѕ @semthesagaferir - Tumblr Blog

effiemyers:

“You’ve never had syren blood.” Fey blood was her favorite but she never did like to give away her preferences - cards close to her chest as always. Wytches didn’t stand a chance around Effie, quite happy to rid the world of them. They were greedy and fiendish, a truly terrible bunch. Past experience dictated an abhorrence to everything they stood for. One day she’d avenge her past self but until then she had no qualms with seeing them suffer. “Feel nothing? I feel things incredibly deeply, like my current level of second-hand embarrassment for you is through the roof.” She was being cruel but these jobs had to come with some release for her. Without she’d just running around after the lost lambs of the vamp community with nothing to show for it beyond a glowing report card and a migraine that would last a lifetime. “A babysitter isn’t a nanny service, you don’t qualify for any extra perks.” She hadn’t been struck with having a weak stomach. Even her first kill hadn’t really shocked her, she felt like she could bathe in blood rather than being adverse to it. Watching Silas throw up wasn’t all that pleasant, truly a waste of whatever that young woman’s life had been worth. “Is this your only source of blood? Random chance encounters? You know, we have to feed for life- You need to secure something more… Stable.” Effie just liked to secure partners instead, ones that didn’t mind a little pinch now and again, and those who found it quite rewarding. There were other means, in desperate times underhand deals with blood donation clinics were necessary but the faint aftertaste of plastic left so much to be desired. “Silas, with all due disrespect, do you think I’d trust you to clean this up?” Her manicured hand grabbed the young woman by the throat and dragged her to the edge of the alley, passing folks would be much less likely to see her. She then got busy, sending a text off to one of her house guards to deal with a small mess made. “You plannin’ on throwing up again or can I let you in my car?”

“I am not sure I want to have syren blood.” Fingers run through his hair as he listens. With an eye roll, he looks away from her. But he doesn’t have time to be offended or even argue with her about it. There is something else on his mind, something that he is anxious about. It bothers him that he doesn’t care that this woman is dead. He knows he should feel guilt, should be agonizing over it. At least that is what he thinks. If it had been his sister it would have been entirely different. Nodding, he stares at the pavement in deep thought, “Yeah, right. Sure.” With a blink of his eyes he reclaims his composure. “I used to be one of those extra perks. Would think they would be easier to dine on them, or dine out..” A heavy sigh shows he is starting to maybe accept what he has become. Slowly. His weak stomach has more to do with his anxious nerves. His caring actions and words were more of what he thinks is expected and what his mind tells him he should be feeling or saying. It was easy to ignore sorting how he is feeling out, processing it. Now there is a dead body in front of him. Everything just felt so overwhelming. “My parents send a monthly supply of blood bags, but I don’t really like them. I put them in a freezer. More out of habit now. Before my sister went to college, she lived with me and I always like to have a backup in case I couldn’t get fresh blood. Now that she is living in a dorm at school, I would rather starve. I would have kept my meal down if you hadn’t gotten me all worked up by killing her.” Or bringing his lack of empathy over it to the surface. “I don’t know you well enough to answer that.” It is an honest answer. “As long as you don’t plan on killing anyone.”

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

skeletonites:

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

●︎ when: january 21st, 2021 ●︎ where: downtown, rapid city ●︎ with: @semthesagaferir

it seemed words wouldn’t suffice any longer; he recoiled, his stance became more meager to sway compassion in his favor. and selene, did. a small amount of compassion lingered at her gaze, eyeing him up and down to figure how to best deal with a vampyr. she backed down eventually, taking a step back and stretching her hand forward. “could you hand me your cell?” she proposed bluntly, refused to hearken to his pleas. she didn’t trust him nor his affliction. instead, a middle, gray area led selene to at least point him in the right direction. “there are contacts better than my unwilling veins to turn to. the market for my blood is pretty big and… i know a guy.” not quite. the rumor mill in greek row could never be trusted, but who’s to say underground dealings weren’t happening in the quad? seemed silly, though to be rationalizing with him rather than him taking it and spill apologies later. she wondered why he wasn’t exercising the blood-letting nature his kin pride themselves of.

Silas just stood there and stared at her for a moment, deciding on whether to trust her or not. He did attack her before. Why would she want his phone? To help? Why would she help him? Finally, he sides his phone out of his pocket and hands it over to her. What does he have to lose? “I had a guy too. He didn’t appreciate almost losing a few witches. So yeah.” he assumes live donors because who wants that plastic taste from a blood bag? His eyes fall to the ground. Did no one really pick up on his addiction? His silent plea for help? It is something he goes back and forth with, whether or not he even really wants help. Arms are crossed and he is digging his nails into his skin until they bleed. His eyes close as he tries to block out the sound of the blood running through her veins. It is taking everything not to bounce on her. “It’s fine. I changed my mind. I will be okay. I should go really.” It comes out fast, anxious. Everything about his body showed how hard he was struggling.

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

astartemyers:

“ you can’t have both. if you have no wish to kill others and indeed want to like you say dine and dash there is only one solution: don’t be a glutton.” if silas knew what astarte did when she was a young vampyr and blamed on human wars and greed he would know that she had no room to talk. the only difference was that during her first years she was free to do what her heart desired without major consequences. historical records only show a small percentage of her depravity and the refined savagery of the rest of her existence. morals had never been a concern of hers. there was a set of rules she followed, closely guarded in her mind not to be used against her. anything else was fair game. astarte forgets that a reformed monster never loses it essence. astarte forgets that a reformed monster never loses it essence. sinners and saints alike can testify it.“ I´m glad to know that you are trying to get better. if you slip publicly, not even I can save you from final death.” it wasn’t entirely truth, but a small dose of fear at the right time never did no harm. “ some of my progeny had a difficult transition and managed to overcome their thirst. if you meet them, at least you will keep your mind busy or learn something from them .worst case scenario I will ask my mate to train you with the guards…probably not a good idea.”

Silas was silent, listening and taking in what she was saying. It felt like he had the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One side wants to give in, to kill, and not care. The other part of him doesn’t want to be a murderer, feels guilt. The indecisiveness brought on a lot of anxiety for the young vampyr. “Have you ever felt guilty for murdering someone? Are you ever at war with yourself?” He asked this while trying to ignore the elephant in the room; it wasn’t so much that he lacked control, but he had an addiction. It was more comfortable to allow everyone around him to assume it was solely a lack of control. Any progress he made seemed lost at the first sip of wytch blood. Then there was the monster that argued with him on shaking this addiction. Silas is willing to take any help Astarte is ready to give. He doesn’t trust many, but he does trust Astarte. Hearing that if he slipped publicly that not even she could save him terrified him. “Maybe. I would very much like to meet them.” His eyes widen at the mention of training him with the guards. He liked that idea. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

viknaerth:

Vik wanted to ask if she painted the sea though he figured that’d be called a seascape more than a landscape. Greenery was beautiful, flowers were so delicate and bright but his heart always went with the ocean and found the sublime in it’s flowing depths. “Abstract. What does that mean to you?” He had a basic understanding of the abstract, but he found it funny that she wanted to both appreciate the world and block it out too. “I can understand that, I suppose I just come from a place where we are as strong as our weakest one. Does that make sense?” Vik didn’t mean any offense, perhaps it was just his syren spirit, only wanting to lift his fellow folk up. “It’s good that you decided on your own path to figure out what you support most. That’s an incredibly important part of personal growth. It can hard to grasp, but it’s always worth it.” Vik had struggled against his nature, one that told him without his access to the sea that he was nothing. One that wanted him to quit, admit defeat and take on a warrior’s death rather than wasting away on land. But he had to, he had to offer his days up in hopes that one of them might get him back into the ocean. “My story’s a little long in the tooth at this point but I do appreciate you asking. My family… I haven’t seen them in some time. But they’re good, honorable people. Just the three of us. I never had any siblings.”

Which type Kaya chose to paint usually depended on her mood. There are lots of moments where she wants to block everything out. “It’s making something beautiful out of all the chaos. It’s making something fit when it doesn’t seem like it would. I don’t know how to explain it.” She worries that she is just confusing the hell out of Vik about what she is trying to explain. “I have to be in a particular kind of mood to paint abstract.” Which seemed to be a lot the past couple of years. “Yes, it makes sense. Everyone has a part to play kind of mentality.”

“It isn’t easy at all. I lost a lot to follow what I believe is right. Rather it’s worth it; I am still figuring out.” There is a smile, a half-smile. She knows the path she chose is the right one, but she missed her parents and little brother. So there are times she wonders if she chose correctly. She at least still had magic; that is what kept her sane. So much of her life is tied up in mastering her skills as a wytch. If she had lost it completely, like her older brother, she isn’t sure she would survive it. Kaya has learned long ago to try and take it a day at a time. Hopefully, that ache for her family to be whole would fade with time.

Based on his response, there is more there the male does not wish to share. Kaya won’t push for the information. “I bet they are very good and honorable people. An only child, you must have been spoiled growing up. I sometimes wish I was an only child.”

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

skeletonites:

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

●︎ when: january 21st, 2021 ●︎ where: downtown, rapid city ●︎ with: @semthesagaferir

the topic at hand left goosebumps trailing down her body; distasteful to the ear and, in her mind, unapproachable. back and forth dialogue in itself doesn’t suit selene and understanding the driving force to the vampyr’s hunger, or simmering it down, were the last things on her mind. if only she could conjure up the same energy from a few nights past, redirect it ten folds at him. his sauntered steps in her direction took all of selene’s steeled will to remain composed and in place. “that’s where you have me mistaken, the crowd only excites me.” empty threats or solid resolution, he’d have to test her further for both to find out. stranger things have occurred. the city’s loud atmosphere was deafened, control at the tips of her fingers. “I’m not fond of repeating myself.”

Silas is watching her as he figures out what his next course of action will be. His hunger, knowing this creature before he carried blood in her veins that tasted so much better than any human he could ever come across, is gnawing at him. There are only two reasons he is even stopping to consider what he should do, his sister and Astarte. It wasn’t Astarte’s position on the dominion, but his respect and loyalty to her. As much as he wants to give in, his choice is to hold back. He shifts his weight from one side to the other, shaking and sweating — sure signs of withdrawal. The vampyr isn’t as tough as he tries to come off as. Arms crossed, he tries to compose himself. “I just need a sip. I am sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.” He has moved on to negotiating, begging even.

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

roversnight:

* ╱ 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

●︎ when: August 3rd, 2020 ●︎ where: So Cafe, Rapid City ●︎ with: @semthesagaferir

“You know, that sounds perfect! Let’s set something up.” Samiyra agreed with Kaya’s sentiments. Why not have her meet Selene and Elyse? Although she had a way with operating on her own time line, Sam remembered code always. The future brimmed with possibilities tangible and within reach. Perhaps gathering an earnest heart could open up more objectively good intentions, - always flocking to the warmth of the devil, she finally decided to listen to the angel on her cold shoulder.

Remembering she needs to meet Elyse, Samiyra starts towards the exit. Looking at Kaya she asks “Shall we exchange numbers? I’ll be able to text you the address, for whenever your ready” Sam finished, flashing a smirk.

Kaya is relieved that Samuyra agreed to the idea of meeting her sisters before making a decision. Something felt off, like this could not be as good as it sounded. After what she went through he is not so willing to trust and her walls are way up. “Of course.” She takes out her phone, pulling up the create a new contact and then handing over to Samiyra to put her number in. “Talk to your sisters? Perhaps we can have dinner this weekend.” It would give her time to prepare, think on the idea of joining these wytches.

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

effiemyers:

“No. I have had human and Wytch. That's it.” He has never considered the other species and what they might taste like that. His expression reveals that much. “Embarrassment? I can’t really argue with that. I keep telling myself humans don’t feel guilty about killing a cow or goat or chicken and eating them. They do not weep or feel guilt. They need to eat them to survive. Are vampyrs any different. We need blood to survive. Why should I feel anything about having to kill a human? That is supposed to make me feel better, and sometimes it does but mostly I think unlike cows or goats or chickens humans don’t have to die so we can survive. I didn’t ask to be thrown into your world, but I am a vampyr and I am trying.” Up came the blood and the bloodlust. He moves over to the lifeless body, reaching out to pick her up, but pausing as Effie spoke. “My parents send me blood bags, which I don’t care for, but I drink them anyway. I usually drink a month's worth in ten days. I used to have a service I would get feeds from, but I almost killed a few wytches so yeah. My sister lets me feed off her, but I’m-I’m afraid I might hurt her, kill her. I won’t survive that.” It’s what scared him the most. “Right. Probably best you don’t trust me, I think. Maybe.” He is agreeing with her before he has a chance to fully process what she just said. “You are so funny, Effie. If I vomit, It won’t be in your car, but totally on you.” It’s a joke and with that he walks past her and a few steps before stopping and turning around. “Where did you ninja park?”

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

astartemyers:

“ as long as you understand that there won’t always be someone to clean your mess.” the stern tone contradicts her smile as astarte pets the overgrown black creature that gets restless when it finds itself without her continuous attention. “ humans make better prey and less likely to be traced back to you. wytch hives are troublesome when one of them gets killed. you should know that better than me.” silas’ past that was closely connected with his present could be a risk. and the DOMINION wouldn’t intervene and break peace with the CHURCH OF NIGHT without a good reason. so far the young vampyr as yet to prove himself valuable for vampyr society. astarte hates to see one of her own die, but the well being of the species comes first. unless it’s one of her creations. blood ties are stronger than law. always and for eternity. “ now share with me what you have been doing. effie can´t be with you all the time. would you like to meet more vampyrs? to be around more of your kind? consider it an invitation to meet my family at the rosewood manor.”

“I didn’t want to kill anyone in the first place. I just wanted to dine and dash, but Effie wouldn’t let me.” Silas watches Astarte. How she is with the dog looking creature. He wants so badly to fit in this new world, but it was a lot and it didn’t feel like he was doing very well. “Yeah, I know that, but I don’t want to kill anyone...I think. No I don’t.” he doesn’t know how he feels about it. He would rather feel nothing at all about it. “Depends on how I feel. Sometimes I drink the blood my parents send. Sometimes I feed on my sister. Others I find on the street. Strangers I make forget. But the human blood isn’t enough. All I want is wytch blood. It’s all I think about.” The more he thought about it the more he wanted another fix. “But I manage. I’m getting better at this really.” Who is he trying to fool? No one. He just wants to drain all the wytches. Had Kaya been aware of Astarte she would ask for help herself, but Silas made sure she was mostly in the dark about it. “Maybe.” he answers about meeting others like him. He had grown attached to Astarte and Effie, they made him feel safe in a world that he was uneasy about.

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

viknaerth:

“Painting - And what are you favorite things to paint?” Vik found it interesting, the physicality of art. He had always been more of a writer and since being trapped on land had had much more experience with photography. The nuance of capturing a moment, whereas painting to him was more of a labor of love. A recreation in a chosen medium to pay homage and to express. Moving. “I think many things get in the way of art, it’s a shame really.” When speaking on her father he thought on his own father, just for a moment; the disappointment he felt radiated heat through him and he hated it. “And it has to be you… The person that does all the chasing? How do you carve out time for yourself?” Vik wondered if it was just moments like these, happenstance. When he first got dropped on the surface he too had been chasing before he found his feet, chasing calmness and resoluteness to his new situation. It resolved itself over the years, he adjusted, panicked and then readjusted. It wasn’t easy but he had little choice in the end. “What did they expect from you? You seem quite spectacular to me.” Vik sipped at his drink, listening intently, wondering if he’d maybe overstepped in his line of questioning.

“Lots of things. Landscapes mostly. Sometimes things I see or abstract. I love getting lost in it. Shutting the world out.” She very much enjoys turning the images in her mind into a work of art. Kaya could go on and on about painting really. “What do you mean?” she asked, head tilting to the side a little. “My brother doesn’t really have anyone else. It’s been just the two of us for a few years now. I definitely don’t get to paint as much as I used to.” There usually isn’t much time to herself, unless you count homework and studying, classes. Cheeks turn pink as he says he thinks she is spectacular. Now how to put this without spilling the whole truth and looking like a crazy person? “Well my parents wanted me to take a different path, follow the laws of the church. I didn’t want to be tied up in something I am not sure I fully support.” Hopefully it was vague enough to keep the secret. God she really needed to make more supernatural friends. This would be so much easier. “So what is your story? What is your family like?”

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

astartemyers:

“ you do bite, Silas but remember that there are other beings that also bite besides us and some are even poisonous.” weyrcreatures and other lesser known creatures. the first hold a well justified hatred towards vampyrs all because of the weyr and vampyr wars centuries ago. she remembers thinking back then that it was all a waste of resources but other values blinded the high council.“ murder and trampling men’s egos, that does sound like my child. however I also know that she won´t murder without a reason, not because of the moral part but the hassle of covering it up.” and she couldn’t be more proud. if astarte had been the one to change silas, she would have made sure to teach him well before allowing him to feed alone. it would have saved many future problems. ” expensive tastes aside, have you been feeding enough?“

“I must admit, it was my mess she was cleaning up.” Then there was his guilt that came and went. One moment he felt the guilt so deeply and others he felt nothing at all. It was a slippery slope to walk. He has never really thought about the weyr’s or any other species other than his own and humans. It isn’t that he is not aware of them, but it is that humans, vampyrs and wytches were what filled his day to day life. His eyes drop to the ground and he looks away before looking near Astarte, at least trying to look like he was making eye contact. “No. On humans. Yes.” He doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to admit he has a problem. Just having had wytch blood he is clear headed, but when he needed a fix again and Kaya isn’t there to satisfy his need, well he would be less willing to admit how bad his addiction has become. “Wytch blood is not as easy to come by when you have a reputation of nearly killing several wytches previously. Kaya is not always an option.”

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

roversnight:

* ╱ 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

●︎ when: August 3rd, 2020 ●︎ where: So Cafe, Rapid City ●︎ with: @semthesagaferir

Samiyra admired Kaya’s hesitance, it behooved a young wytch to keep their wits about them. She was always on her own side, there was nothing new there - but she had a ‘guardian’ side that yearned to be stretched. Or maybe it was the secrecy that laced Kaya’s eyes that Samiyra was interested in. “I am a member of the Church of Night, but that is my duty - not my leisure.”

“My end game ultimately benefits us all. Haven’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘There’s power in numbers?’ I’m confident my Maiden sisters would welcome you happily.” Samiyra smirked as she tried to sway the curious wytch one last time. “The price of notoriety is simply said, priceless. All I ask is for your loyalty.” she ended, enter lacing her fingers and a clinched look.

“I tell you, there’s no gimmick with my proposition. You can decline, although I wouldn’t see why you would.” Blathering with Kaya seemed beneficial in the ‘recruiting’ sense. After all, this was a test for her - finding the fourth wytch took critical technique. The ideology of completing a circle of calling with four wytches - North, South, East and West reigned most important.

Kaya nearly rolled her eyes. Her duty. So many times growing up did Kaya hear that the hive was her duty as a Malone wytch. To sign the book, master her magic and the skill of illusions. Still Samiyra is a member and that makes her wonder how much she can trust her, but at the same time she doesn’t think it is fair to judge her solely because she is a member of the church.

“And I can keep my soul?” She just needs to hear it again, even though that was already answered. She missed being a part of a hive, so she is really thinking about it. So she is quite for what felt like an eternity. Trust did not come easy for her and accepting the offer would not grant them her trust either. She wants to say yes, but the words won’t come out, not yet.

“Perhaps I can meet your sisters first? Get to know you before I decide?” Agreeing before she got to know them a little felt like a mistake, a trap maybe. Then there is Silas to think about. She doesn’t want to put her brother in danger due to his addiction, nor put any other wytch in danger either.

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

luciusbelmonte:

want and need are two very different things. lucius doesn´t continue the line of conversation noticing her slight frown. in his experience we are what we need to be not what we want. in rare cases we can balance both. “ never? I find that hard to believe. not even a tiny bit? ” he insists with a big smile. “ then let me try again. imagine the very willing guinea pigs you could find there for your psychology essays.” he wonders if he should mention his name or not. there was infamy in his surname and he made a good job of playing the church of night golden boy.the one that parents praise in public but warn to stay away in private. the girl in front of him was somewhat familiar, since he made a point of knowing other wytches from his hive.“ during the day I work at my family´s bank. I don´t think I´ve introduced myself properly. lucius belmonte. and may I get your name?”

Kaya shakes her head no, “Not really. I am a bit of a hermit. So studying and painting一” Magic. Mostly normal stuff. Her head tilts to the side slightly at the picture he has painted in her head. “That is a fair point, but parties sound like a place full of sex and alcohol. Not much psychology there.” there is a small smirk. She isn’t opposed to going to a college party despite her insistence of it not really being her thing. The look on her face shows she knows who he is based on his last name. Not just because his surname was well known in the area, but because she knows his family is a part of the church of night. “Kaya Malone. I believe our family is a part of the same church.” She remembers seeing him there now. Funny how that happens.

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

skeletonites:

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

●︎ when: january 21st, 2021 ●︎ where:downtown, rapid city ●︎with: @semthesagaferir

“not for you.” she replied plainly. knowing the monsters that hide in dark alleys didn’t warrant their transgression. recounts and grimoire studies on vampyr only gave a minimal, limited scope of their nature. he was the first selene’s met, and considering the facts, the distrust she’ll carry from henceforth will be second nature, a reflex. eyes fixed on his, remaining quiet would get her point across all the same. the reaction was more based on what he saw from her: sorcery, and an unknown feat at that. she did not have the answers to her own riddles, and she felt awfully visible in front of him. selene’s jaw clenched in mild frustration taking multiple drags from her cigarette. letting him speak of their encounter as if the two were well acquainted. “listen — i only came over to tell you to forget whatever it is you think you saw; nothing more.“

“Oh come on, I promise it will only hurt a little.” There is a cheeky little grin, one that said he was determined to get his way. “I forget nothing. I’m not exactly sure what I saw, but I certainly won’t forget it.” He was definitely curious. “And now you’re stalking me? You found me, to tell me to forget about something I saw. You had to know I wasn’t just going to agree and move on.” Wishful thinking on her part. “I don't know what you are, but I bet you taste really good.” He moves closer to her. “And one of these days there won’t be witnesses to protect you.” He knows that he can’t do anything now. There are too many people. Even at night and the fact they are in a very public area.

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

effiemyers:

Darkness came easy to Effie, she was born and bred in it but in those days it was under the guise that there was light to be had. She’d be good to her church and they’d be good in return, she’d marry, have a baby and live the same life her birth parents had. Thankfully she saved herself from the falsities, from a terrible husband and a future that didn’t care about her. Astarte was honest and proud of what she was and Effie lived to mimic that. “What she is, is a fuckin’ problem.” Effie didn’t care if he’d pulled a meyr from the depths of the ocean, it just meant she had a body to deal with it; lucky for him she was well versed. This poor stranger would die, cleanly, Effie would make a call and the whole silly ordeal would be done with. The key was to always come in with the plan. Her mother’s order to watch over Silas came with the unspoken understanding that he needed watching. Young vampyrs usually had a hard time dealing with the honor they’d been given, some struggled silently while others were all too ready to put their distress on display. “So you’ve got expensive taste and no means - That’s depressing.” Effie was lucky to have the family she did, but worked hard to find a way to satisfy her wants and her needs. “I know that ‘we’ you’re talking about doesn’t include me.” Unfortunately it did, in a way. “See I could make her forget, but then she wakes up tomorrow riddled in bite marks, she’ll start talking to people and the last person she was seen with… Well, that’s you.” It was a silly foil she’d come against before. People who should have been bodies reentered her life confused and damaged souls when their suffering could have been much more short lived. “Let her go.” Effie offered gently to ease the heightened situation. Rather than having Silas hold her by her hair she grasped the young woman by the wrist. “That’s where you’re wrong, Silas.” The vamp veteran started, spinning Silas’ victim with ease and seemingly moving to hug her from behind. “You are, we all are. You think monsters get to be feral - but that doesn’t come with the gift you’ve been given.” With one hand placed overtop the woman’s head against her temple and the other on her jaw she yanked viciously and was met with a terribly satisfying crunch. “If you want to act like an animal wait out in the woods and get one of those oversized dogs to bite you.”

Silas shook his head. “No, she doesn’t have to be.” he argues, weakly. He assumes it doesn’t matter what he says, she was going to kill this human. He doesn’t respond to the expensive taste and no means comment, but his body language says it all. They way his body swept off and his arms crossed into a closed off position. He wasn’t going to be so willing to admit to Effie that his dear sister is a wytch and his love for her was the only thing keeping her alive. That and she was smart, quick on her feet. Tiny but mighty. Did you know that getting bashed in the head repeatedly with a boot hurts? A lot? Well it hurt enough to stun him, the look in her eyes, the look he could describe in great detail over and over. It is a deep hurt he will forever have to live with. He shakes his head and pushes the thoughts, memories, away. A clear of his throat and his attention was back on Effie. “Why? Wytch blood doesn’t tempt you? Not even a little?” Looking from the girl and the bite marks to Effie, it is a look of pride Effie receives, but quickly dashed away by these pesky human emotions. There is hesitation before he finally lets her go. Silas can’t even look at them, looking away and bracing himself. For what? He doesn’t know, but he is sure she is about to kill this human. There is a visible cringe when she finally cracks her neck. He doesn’t look, refuses to, even turns around and stares at the ground for a moment before puking a good amount of the blood he has ingested. “Must be nice to have it all figured out. To feel nothing.” Nope, he wasn’t done, and out came the rest. Blood splattering on the pavement. “I’m hungry again.” he spits before turning to look at Effie, but he refuses to look down at the body. “You think you are so smart, feed me then.” It’s more of a challenge. That and doesn’t wish to have to clean up the body. “And don’t you dare look at me to clean this up. You killed her, you handle it.” He steps away, more so to peacefully pace. He was nervous, anxious and scared. The young vampyr didn’t know how to handle this.

#❲ 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖘 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

roversnight:

* ╱ 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

●︎ when: August 3rd, 2020 ●︎ where: So Cafe, Rapid City ●︎ with: @semthesagaferir

Samiyra stood firm as Kaya rattled off her frantic assumptions; slowly revealing a mischievous smirk. Though the notion that Samiyra would do harm to Kaya was.. ‘expected’ to say the least - she couldn’t help but let out a child like chuckle. Samiyra thrived on being independent, but missed her tethered loyalty she was so accustomed to having. What she, Elyse and Selene had was more than a sisterhood.

Looking into Kaya’s eyes, watching her visible conviction, made Samiyra’s vision oh so clear. Strength in Numbers. A square squad, a group of wytches with immense power that could storm any front, on her command of course. A coven.

Samiyra, clasping her hands together - trying to contain her newfound excitement. “Oh honey. No no, there will be no soul stealing. After all, I nee..WE need your soul with you. How would you like to be apart of something that’ll change the world around you? With my power directing, and wytches just like you - nothing can stop us. That is..IF we decide to go after something. But wouldn’t it just be grand to have it all?” Samiyra’s challenge has always been her pride. One of the last things her mother said to her were “..you’re going to become something powerful.” Cecilia Shaw created a beautiful monster.

Kaya blinks, stunned. She wasn’t expecting this. She opens her mouth to speak, but is still processing. “So you are not a part of the church of night?” She asked. Shhh, she was catching up. But as the shock wore off, this woman made her nervous. “Do you ask every wytch you see to join your coven?” she asked, suspicious, that is what she is. SUSpicious.

“So what is the catch?” This wytch was power hungry, Kaya has picked up on that rather quickly. That never ended well, never. “This idea sounds just GRAND, but it feels like a road to power hungry wytches. I don’t want to have it all. I just…”

Wasn’t wanting to know as much about magic the same thing as power? Knowledge is power isn’t it? Kaya isn’t as trusting as one might hope, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be manipulated. There is a long pause as if considering her options. “I’m listening.” She is interested in what Samiyra has to offer, but isn’t sure yet if this is what she wants to pursue. She has learned long ago that the only person she could count on is herself. Her parents have disowned her, abandoned her. Her older brother has been good to her, but half the time he is chasing his next fix or trying to convince her to let him feed on her. “I’m assuming membership isn’t free…”

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

luciusbelmonte:

“ perhaps you are right.” he concedes. “ and if we want to be completely honest some things were never whole to begin with.” mere objects, even the ones that started as small pieces…leftovers … scraps put together in a makeshift fashion are more complete that some individuals. bones and muscles make half a person if there is no soul inside. “ destructive tendencies aside. I´m scandalized by your lack of knowledge. you clearly don´t belong to a sorority and don´t hang out in the greek row. our parties are pretty epic. or used to be when I was there, they better keep up the legacy. have you ever been to one?”

“What is being whole in the first place? Sometimes I wonder if the concept really results in what we want it to.” She half frowns, the thought brings sadness. Lucky for her the subject changes. “You could say that. I don’t really go for the college thing, I guess. It never appealed to me, I guess.” she shrugs. Parties and all that was involved in them were fun, sure, but the joining of one, hell week and all that just seemed idiotic. “No, I have never been to one. Never have had time with my studies. A lot of psychology essays.” She prays he doesn’t ask what her major is. Explaining the occult was her major has proven to be a bit weird and hard to explain without feeling like she looked crazy. “When you aren’t painting what is it you do with your time?”

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

viknaerth:

“And what sort of art calls to you?” Vik had learned from his various friends in different places that art made itself known in many ways. It sat in people’s throats and waxed poetic, it took people by the hand and led them in waltz and naturally it was most noted for its deliverance of works on canvas. And between the mediums were genres and between those was the individuals abiltity to express themselves and their experiences. Vik was quite creative, a wordsmith, a lover of lovesongs and poetry for his dearest one. He’d written tomes in his time, words plucked and a dedicated to the queen of his kingdom. They ordered up once more and he was glad to have found company that could match his deviously consistant pace. Alcohol’s potency was pitiful but he did enjoy the gentle burn that warmed as it lingered. “Does your brother make you do a lot of chasing?” Vik was naturally quite protective but had learned that chasing rarely delivered the desired result. Instead he let the paths written in the stars decide who ended up where and why. He was endlessly supportive but no longer to his own detriment. “You deserve time to yourself, for yourself, you know? It’s incredibly important.”

“Paint, I like to paint, acrylic.” She smiles, her face lit up when she thought about painting. It was making something out of nothing, something beautiful. She is very good at it too, something she gets from her father. “My father used to paint. When he was my age, I guess. I suppose law school got in the way for him.” She had seen one of his paintings several years ago and always wonders why her father gave up art. Once the drinks arrived, she takes a slow and cautious sip of hers. It was good, much more fruity than the bourbon. She is quick to take another sip, this time more enthusiastic. The alcohol was still there and still not very pleasant, but the fruitiness from the juice was a nice balance. “Yeah, sometimes. Silas has a way of getting himself into trouble. He doesn’t have anyone else to look after him.” She has no idea about the vampires he has been spending time with or she would be in flight mode right now. She wishes she could argue that she does, but she has noticed she has less and less time to paint. Most of her free time lately seems to be spent chasing Silas and/or feeding him. Absently, she rubs an area on her arm where Silas had recently bitten her. Though it is hidden under her jacket. “Our parents basically disowned us when we failed to live up to their expectations. All we have is each other.” And there goes her drink, all of it.

#❲ 𝕜𝕒𝕪𝕒 ∣ .𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ❳

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