[strangedevotions]

[ drabble: closed ]

Valerian hadn’t planned to hunt today. He hadn’t even wanted to leave bed in the first place and the thought of wanting to return to it had haunted him all day. His work alarm blaring through their bedroom had interrupted… throes of marital bliss. Getting there, at least. When he’d slipped from the arm of his husband, it’d been with a kiss at his throat, the squeeze of a lingering hand at the man’s hip, and a promise of tonight. 

He’d even planned on following through on that promise- busted through the tasks of his day as quickly as he could and had even satiated his hunger already, meeting up with a human friend for lunch; one of several strange little things that were happy to be fed on. He’d really tried this time. He was going to behave himself so he could get home and misbehave himself there. 

Then along came Jacob- intent on seducing Valerian into changing his plans. He’d been at Valerian’s counter for hours over the last two weeks, insistent that they’d have a good time, cranking out as brilliant of pick-up lines as “C’mon, baby.”, and finding excuses for them to touch: bumping into Valerie, a hand finding his wrist once, a shoulder another time, the small of his back. It’d worn him down. Jacob had not noticed Valerian’s hard glares, nor his snarky responses, nor the way he plucked the wandering hands away with a grimace. The douchebag of Valerian’s dreams. 

Valerian’s dream of a grand horde, in the hands of someone who knew what to do with it. 

He’d killed for lesser offences, the leftovers gathering day-by-day at the bottom of the bayou. So he’d gone home with the douchebag. Jacob lived in an unsurprisingly grimy apartment in the lower ninth ward- and thank whoever for that, Valerian wouldn’t have to take the body far when he was done. It was small, with grey walls and linoleum roll throughout. Valerie was fairly certain the dirty windows were painted shut. It was cold, even to the vampire. A television sat on the floor against one wall with a fabric camping chair a few feet away; a mattress across the room with a few blankets piled atop and no sheets. Jacob -or, John, maybe? -hadn’t taken the garbage out recently and the smell of chicken-rot permeated the apartment, grating at Valerian’s nerves. 

Valerian trailed his hands up John’s arms, a sweet smile gracing his features as the fire in his stomach grew. He interrupted John’s babbling, eyes bright, “You said we were gonna have fun together.” He had pulled the yellow tie of his work uniform away from his throat on his way in the door; now, he lifts it to the man’s mouth and encourages him to bite down, nimble fingers tying it at the back of his head tight, gagging him. “This’ll be fun.” He whispered, shoving him toward his bare floor mattress and receiving a muffled moan in response. 

He sank into the man’s lap after giving him a moment to right himself, springs pressing uncomfortably into his knees on either side of John’s thighs. He let the cretin paw at him, his own fingers pushing John’s shirt off to expose his bare skin; a blank canvas Valerian intended to cover with color- mostly red, he didn’t think poor John would live long enough to bruise in purples or greens. 

Valerian shoved at him again lightly, pushing him down against the mattress with one hand against his chest. “That was really pushy earlier, you know?” He sing-songed, pressing fingers into his skin, a line of raised red skin blossoming where his nails traced, “You know. Pushy over the last few weeks, really. I don’t like pushy.” The next line he traced bit down harder, drawing blood and a hiss through his teeth. Delicious. He did it once more, digging in hard and splitting skin, leaving a long cut along the curve of the man’s ribcage, all the way across, intending to follow it with his tongue. He didn’t have the chance to admire his handwork; the long cut was a step too far for John, a garbled ‘what the hell’ escaping around his gag as he pushed, dumping Valerian from his lap onto the plastic floor. 

“What the hell indeed, shitstain. You don’t just drop a man.” Valerian snipped, watching as he grabbed at the torn skin of his chest in a panic, little human heart thundering away below. “I thought we were having fun.” He reached out, clamping his fingers around the man’s ankle and tugging toward himself, pulling him to the ground as he kicked and screamed through gritted teeth. The hard sole of a shoe connected with Valerian’s jaw and he dropped the ankle in his hand with a snarl. 

John took the opportunity to scramble to his feet unsteadily, adrenaline racing through his blood; the sharp smell of sweat and fear and rich call of blood superseding the long-ignored garbage. The vampire followed with a sharp-toothed grin. “You’re looking a little faint, dear.” As John tried to find his feet he launched forward, slamming his weight into Valerian, who growled and grabbed one of the man’s arms. Blood sprung up at his fingertips as he dug his nails in. He twisted, bringing John to kneel at his feet, and then pushing further until he felt a pop, tendons tearing under his touch. Pity he couldn’t hear it over the muffled screaming. John was surprisingly loud for a gagged man. Valerie tugged the arm straight again, sinking his teeth into his wrist- a nightcap. 

“Your wandering hands betraaay youuu.” Valerian teased, releasing the mangled arm and wiping at his mouth as John- no, Josh- doubled over. He lifted a leg and kicked forward hard, driving the toe of his workboot into his ribs, scraping at the flesh there. “That’s so sad.” He giggled and combed a blood-wet hand through Josh’s mousy hair, using a fistful of it to pull him up again. “You’re a terrible fighter. You know, I’m married to a fighter.” He wrenched the man’s head back, meeting his eyes as he watched him struggle to process, huffing exhausted breath past the now spit and sweat soaked yellow tie in his mouth. Poor Josh was fighting unconsciousness. “Rayaan, my heart, my home, my sunset- oh, I envy the air, pressed to him always. You’d know that if you’d listened to a word I said.” He shook the man’s head by the hair, “He’s lovely, my little sister was sick when she saw his pretty face.” Valerian let out a small sigh- how simple it’d all been. “I’m getting away from myself. My love could have taught you something. He’s very good.”

“Has all your strength left you? You’re shaking like a leaf.” He switched his grip, taking hold of the man’s jaw to turn his head toward one filthy window, free hand gesturing toward the sky, where pink and gold hues started to bloom. Sunset. Shit, he was much later than expected. “Look at that, Josh. You have been a terrible waste of time.” He tsked, fingers squeezing, cutting into the soft flesh of his cheek. “How am I to explain this to my love, huh? Late, and you’re not even interesting.”

Josh or whatever didn’t react with another gasp or hiss or groan, just one ragged breath after another. Valerian sighed. He turned his attention back from the painted hues outside, head tilting with curiosity as he watched the last light fade behind the man’s eyes. “Guess I’ll have to figure it out on my own.” He had no reason not to tell Rayaan the truth. Except, of course, to spare himself the embarrassment of admitting to losing his temper again. He rolled his eyes and stood, releasing his hold on the man’s face and letting it fall. Thump. Dead weight. “And I still have to clean up your mess before I can go home. Mon dieu. Horrible. Horrible man. I’ve done the world a favor this time, I think, you’re quite inconsiderate.” 

He continued to ramble at the body as he worked his way through the motions of cleaning up, mopping up the mess with Josh’s sad bedding before rolling him in it; only belatedly realizing that destroying the thing’s arm so thoroughly made it less useful for the bayou. Oops. He would drag it out there anyway and watch it sink before heading home to face his embarrassment. 

[sanguisxferox]

"You are right. How unkind of me." She chuckles, but doesn't not linger on the subject, though his lack of her response to her question about his opinions on her orders is not missed. Either he refuses to voice his opinion or the next subject affects him too much. Either path should be cause to worry.

The tone doesn't go unnoticed, though what she will remember isn't the tone, but how fast it was changed. She'd told him no shame. Shame is a dangerous thing, it festers in your heart, roots itself into your soul and murmurs into your ear. "Emissary Anker sought out his assistant and look what happened. If it had not been for Leader Lal, I highly doubt the Lightless would currently have an Emissary. I understand that Leader Attano didn't choose the path he's been set on, but his actions are his own. You cannot claim innocent on one hand while attacking an Emissary and raise the dead to join the rest of an undead army on the other. It sends a blurry message." Though, if Elias listens as much as she thinks he will, Kali isn't saying Mathias did it, but that his actions are contradicting his words.

The Avatar makes a soft noise akin to amusement at the last comment. Though, it's hard to tell if it's genuine or humorless. "So he comes into our territories—where he knows to be unwelcome—visit someone he assumes is retired, but will most likely be mad when he learns you aren't? Are we to be the scapegoat of his mood swings on top of his actions now?" Kali sighs. "He is a ticking bomb, no longer the child you once knew. Fior made that mistake–" They use the Emissary's name on purpose, so that Elias understands that this is meant to be more private and that Kali is aware of some important things, but most of all a cautionary tale. "—the mistake to think that the lover he once knew was still present. As a result, he was attacked and then because of that weakened state he became an easy target for the Nameless to capture and torture for seven days relentlessly. It's nothing but a miracle he's alive. So I beg of you Elias, do not let what was affect your vision to what is. She has already lost Callum and almost lost Fior, don't make her grieve you after such a short return. Status quo must be kept." Kali's words are soft, almost a whisper, but her shadow darkens. He needs to thread carefully. And so must all the Lightless.

[strangedevotions]

“I wasn’t looking to excuse him for his actions. Only to share what I saw: he was conflicted when he came to me.” Whether that weighed anything to Kali was up to her, but it weighed something to Elias. He listens, the ghost of a wince crossing his face briefly at the reference to Fior and Mathias’ entanglement; another complication in the web of connections the city housed. He shifts on his feet, nodding softly, and responds only once she’s finished. 

“I understand.” He starts, “Please know, any affection I may hold does not blur my vision. I am sentimental –and it has never outweighed my dedication to what’s here.” He gestures to the ground between them, meeting the woman’s eyes- his own warm brown sincere and determined. “I don’t mean to suggest we capitulate to his temper forever, eventually our work will call me beyond these walls –but I don’t know what he is.” Elias was no joke of a human but he was a human- in the place of infinite strength or natural-born magic, he needed information. “Putting me in the position to upset him now would be locking me in the room with the ticking bomb. I agree that we should hold status quo, for now.” 

[theunbrokenxechoes]

G listened and just observed, this was an interesting situation he was in because most times when someone died he did not go out of his way to do all this or had the people around him be this respectful. G for sure really could not understand at all but he did not say anything. Grayson had never been one for religion or believe in any deity and as a result of that G also did not believe in anything. "I never lose sleep over anything," he spoke looking at Elias with amused eyes.

G sighed and could not help but roll his eyes as the male told him to hold on at all. He waited of course and let the male finish what ever that needed to finish. He watched as the other said a prayer for the other and in a way, G saw that as kindness. The same kindness that Grayson had and he knew Grayson would do something similar like this to what Elias was doing for the dead. "Don't worry, I can control my fire," he spoke as he step forward.

In a moment smoke started to raise from the body and them before flames started to consume and burn the body. G, keep a sharp control on the flames making sure they do not go beyond control like he normally let them. Green eyes shined as the fire lit up the room.

[strangedevotions]

Elias nodded, eyes flicking from the blond man to the body, watching silently. He stood still for a long moment and considered the fork in the road behind him before turning away from the body.  Right or wrong, kind or cruel, he had chosen a path: this was different than returning to train young Lightless, different, certainly, than falling quietly in line at his leader’s side and letting the cards fall where they may. This ritual, to him, was faith in action. He sniffed as the smell of the body burning reached his nose, indeed covering the punch of sour the spell had carried, before turning entirely- stepping away to swipe his once-again discarded jacket from the ground. 

Elias shook the jacket out and folded it over an arm before looking to the other again and offering a smile, “Lovely.” He said, in reference to the state of char the body had developed, “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Ardent, I will try not to call on you again.” He offered, already meandering toward the exit. He was fairly uninterested in keeping someone under his thumb; unless provoked, he was not likely to wave information over the witch’s head again.

[thegraveyardshifts]

"There's not much you don't look good in," Agathe points out, coupled with a playful, well timed roll of the eyes - Valerian is almost as handsome as herself, the two are often mistaken for heinous twins when seen walking together. Adrenaline was tangy, that was true but, the unexpected was just a personal favorite. Something about the blood without additives...perhaps she was just too old, and had gone back to simpler preferences.

The offer to join is a generous one, the blonde looking at the offered arm that was at least free from the blood. God forbid any of it get onto the cashmere jumper she wore, getting such a thing dry cleaned wouldn't be worth the hassle. Buying a new one would have to suffice.

"Oui," Agathe linked her own with his. "Somewhere nice, I hope,"

[strangedevotions]

“You’re right about that.” Valerian laughed as they walked, “Oui. Mon atielier.” Or something resembling one- with just two vampires in the old Quarter home some spaces had been repurposed; Valerian’s unneeded kitchen still a lush greenhouse, and his dining room, with tall windows along one wall, had become a painting room. Long gone were Valerie’s days with a pristine parlor in San Francisco, ready to entertain appropriately at any given moment- the painting room was, admittedly, the tidiest space in his home, the rest with bits of life strewn about, and thus it was where Valerie entertained, when drawn to. “My love should be off, oh, doing something. Boy stuff. I’m not sure how he entertains himself these days- I’ve been busy.” He raised her arm gently, nodding to the sweater, “This is nice. How are you dear?”

[sanguisxferox]

The giggles is like music to their ears. Though being called sweet always makes them grin boyishly, 'cause that's probably the only sweet thing about the familiar—fairness in non-existant love life. It's probably why they're fair, 'cause they have none. They might get picky with who they sleep with—picky as in someone they can trust will understand the meaning of no strings attached—but they don't remember ever falling in love. Strangely enough, even if it'd be unfair, they'd like to know how it feels to love and be loved. Sometimes, they wonder if there has every been anything like that before their first death. They shake their head. "You're being far too kind." But they'd also let Valerian sweet talk them whenever he wants. If they were school boys, Knox would without a doubt crush over the vampire, 'cause the blond is ridiculously attractive—and not just the face.

He snorts loudly. "Listen, I haven't tasted my own blood, but pretty sure it's been ruined for some time—even without the venom. I also wouldn't want something to happen to you because of it." On that, they apparently silently agree that it's better to stay away from the familiar's blood. "Now who's being sweet?" He teases gently, nuzzling his hair. He doesn't think he will, but he needs to. Needs to stay alive and be careful till Mathias' ascension. After that, no one knows what will happen, not even Sebastian. "Alright so this meal—wanna work for it or are you feeling lazy?"

[strangedevotions]

“I like you, Knox, I hate to encourage negative self-talk, but I fear you’re right with this one.” Valerian slows, turning toward him, nose scrunching but smiling, “But you never have to fear hungry vampires at your throat.” He says it with an unnecessary breath ghosted at his throat, teasing, before he straightens. “At least, not with you in mind as dinner.” 

They’ve reached some park, a handful of straggling humans to choose from tonight. “I am always sweet.” He lies. He knows that Knox knows it is a lie. “Let’s have fun. Yeah?” Valerie closes his eyes and spins slowly, taking a deep breath and stopping; there. Tucked there in the sprawling arms of an old live oak was a man- Valerie couldn’t see him from here but he could smell him; could hear the strong beat of his heart. He looks to Knox once more with bright eyes, “Healthy. Vascular. Athletic, probably. It’s likely that he’ll run.”

[theunbrokenxechoes]

"Which is good, it would be a shame if one of us died," he spoke as he titled his head to the side as he looked at the body before looking around. His voice was cold, empty and hollow and in a way hard to explain. Grayson Ardent was a man with a secret that no one knew about, not even Grayson knew about it and that secret was that he had a second personality G which was born from trauma and took over as a way to protect Grayson. G main goal was protecting his main personality, he did not care about anything else and will do whatever to protect Grayson no matter if meant causing trouble and war. He will do everything in his power to protect Grayson.

"Why do I feel like you yourself are even more dangerous in some ways," he spoke looking at Elias. G unlike Grayson was very untrusting, he did not trust the male with him. "I will be honest and say I don't care if we did a good thing or not," he added which was the truth. Morals did not matter to G. "When you are ready, I can finish it. Turn everything to ash that nothing can come back from or if you still have final words."

[strangedevotions]

“Well…” Elias gestured toward the body and chuckled, “Pretty solid firsthand evidence. All glory to my Goddess.” He roughed a hand through his hair, leaving the greying curls sticking up in the front, “Glad to hear you won’t have trouble sleeping over it.” 

“Hold on.” He moved again to grab his discarded jacket, wrestling with the torn black fabric for a moment and emerging victorious with a silver flask in hand. Elias had never heard of it, but if there was a necromancer in the world that could raise ash and make it sing, the Deathrunners would have access to them. Lady Death help us if that was the path Mathias was on. He couldn’t risk it. Fortunately, countering reanimation was a Lightless specialty.

“A final blessing.” Elias crouched by the head, watching for a moment, brushing dark hair back from the dead man’s face- a final act of gentleness for the Deathrunner Underboss, who looked so young to him now. He didn’t regret it. He unscrewed the flask and overturned it into its mouth; a soft prayer for a peaceful journey said. The spell smelled sharp and sour, and he hoped that the other man’s fire would burn the stench away. He stood, stepping back. “They should be able to find him here. Not too hot, Mr. Ardent. We have to leave something for his friends to grieve over.”

[sanguisxferox]

"She is not here to compete though. That would be beyond cruel. All paths lead to her, some are longer or harsher than others, but in the end, she waits for us all." Kali says softly: hands slipping from his cheek to his hand; giving it a gentle squeeze. "She is neither possessive nor jealous. One day we will die and she will be there but until then, the living is only for her to observe and for us to enjoy or suffer. The beauty of faith is that it is always there as long as we believe, so having others walking at our side is truly a thing of beauty." While Kali hasn't let themselves live with another that way, the Avatar still enjoy every single moments of their life. After all, it could end tomorrow.

"Do you agree with it?" Kali has their reason to ask but that part they keep for themselves. "I would've thought this to be a simple conversation, not an interrogation nor an interview." She's teasing a little bit. "I suppose actions speak as loud as inaction, though I do believe that sometimes, knowing why is more important." The Avatar knows that she will be seen mostly as either an antagonist or savior and a handful won't care at all. Pleasing everyone is impossible after all.

"Ah?!" They await to learn about what seems so troubling that it's affecting the Underboss. Though the news makes Kali sigh before she lifts his face back up. She seems calm, though her shadow seems darker. "No shame—remember? And what did he wants?" The answer would play an important role later on. Though, his blatant disregard to his presence being unwelcome in Lightless territories is only making things worse for his case.

[strangedevotions]

“You should let old men have their excuses, Kali.” Elias teases, “I know she wouldn’t mind. I’m afraid I’m just hard to impress.” The request to drop it goes unvoiced but is present nonetheless- he would rather not rehash the personal failures of his love life. 

“He came to tell me it wasn’t him. He was upset that the Deathrunners were assigned the blame so easily.” Elias says, “I knew him when he was a kid- knew his dad, when he was a kid.” He explains, something soft in him leaking into his tone for just a moment before he fixes it; shoves it down in his chest. Not to hide it from Kali, but himself. Thinking too much on it would make him weak, and he couldn’t downplay the threat that Mathias posed. “He thinks that I am retired. Likely in our best interest that it stays that way for the time being. I don’t think the news will be warmly received."

[strangedevotions]

@theunblazexash where: westbank Ric had not been an easy target. The opportunity had been too open for Elias to ignore, but he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Of all the things Elias thought of Deathrunners, he would not make the mistake of seeing them as weak. He needed a second set of hands, and he needed them to be the hands of an outsider- someone to muddy the water. If he took one of the Lightless he risked falling into habit and leaving a signature. Life as Elias lived it had not come without a wealth of information; incredibly useful, when the right piece of information could be pulled about the right witch for the job. Grayson Ardent.  

The shop they were in was in rough condition, destroyed plaster and cracked concrete floors; abandoned, he imagined, in the wake of Katrina, and deep in Nameless territory. Even with Grayson the fight had been rough- all the practice sparring in the world could not have prepared him for the first real challenging fight he’d taken on in years. Training could only emulate life-or-death so well. When the body finally dropped, he was glad for it. He was exhausted; black shirt stuck to his skin with sweat, huffing, and his knee twinged. He’d smashed into Ric’s face earlier. There was blood in his hair. Impossibly, he felt like he could do it ten times over. 

Did he disobey a direct order? Yes.  Was he confident that he would get away with it? Fairly.  “Congratulations Mr. Ardent. We survived.” He offered aloud after catching his breath, grinning. He crouched to swipe his knife from where it’d slid to earlier, wiping the blade on his dark pant leg before flipping it shut. It’d need to be cleaned properly later, but for now it was enough to not be left behind. “I know you’re not one of us, but we’ve done a good thing. He was dangerous.” They were all dangerous, that’s the game. He stood and stepped toward the body, shoes clicking, “May he find peace in Death. Unfortunately, the work's not done until he can’t come back.”

[sanguisxferox]

"Elias it is then." Kali watches the myriad of emotions seemingly going through the Underboss. His lovely laugh makes her giggle in return. They remove the glove covering their left hand and brings it to Elias' cheek. "Life is both beautiful and terrible; so lets enjoy it without shame." Kali isn't pushing for more, but letting the mortal know that there is no need to hide—at least, not with her.

"Are you open to it though? Opportunities are so tricky like that; always invisible to those who aren't reaching out." It's not bad. Kali talks from experience. Some stuff we want, but can't have, but sometimes it's also that we can have them, but don't want them.

"I am here because she too is heartbroken, but grief is part of our path. Losing ourselves to it would end up in chaos. We will retaliate, but we must remain the Tower on the Chessboard and strike at the right moment. Strengthening our alliance with the Lotus Eaters while they're at odds with the Deathrunners is vital. Security will be increased and those transgressing will be punished accordingly. We'll need to increase our numbers quietly within territories at war. When the time comes, the status quo can be broken." Kali speaks softly and this might be the one time they'll talk about plans in this conversation that they would prefer to keep casual as long as possible.

"Thank you Elias, your empathy is welcome. My heart is with her, with you, with the Lightless, with all." Even those undeserving—sinners—they will all come to Death's arms eventually. "Is that truly what you wanted to ask me? I know you must have many more that you dare not ask." Kali might not answer all questions asked, but they'll listen to them.

[strangedevotions]

Elias is surprised again, when Kali’s soft palm finds his cheek. Oh. Interesting. He thinks, eyes searching her features. “Who could compare, Kali?” He asks softly, voice lilting, lips turned up at the corners, “Our lady is a hard companion to beat.” He could think of one, singular voice that could ever have pulled him from his path, but the idea was fantasy of the heart. Born from nothing that touched reality. Childish. He keeps this to himself; not every thought should be spoken. 

“I understand.” He says, nodding and folding his hands behind his back, “I am here to support you on whatever path you lead us on.” It wasn’t an unquestioning loyalty, passivity hadn’t brought Elias this far, but he doesn’t know her yet. He has hope. “I have many, but I have little desire to interrogate you.” He admits, “Most will be answered by your actions in the days to come.” 

Elias shifts on his feet, uncomfortable over what he would have to say next: showing off his weak points went against the instincts nearly fifty years of service to a gang had instilled in him. “I have information that I feel is a disservice to keep from you.” He says, head bowing for a moment- he hesitates, measures his words. “After the festival, Mathias Attano came to see me at my home.”

[kestrelsandsqualls]

Kestrel would have agreed with Elias if she had known. As horrible as it had been.... Better that it was one of them than a civilian that wouldn't have understood. Perhaps that had saved a few lives. Saved a few souls from being stolen by the Deathrunners. And that was good enough for now. But only just. The injustice of it all still caused a caustic taste of bile on the back of her throat. The Deathrunners, the Nameless, even the Lotus Eaters. It didn't matter who they were if they had a hand in what had happened, that would be all Kestrel needed know. She shook her head as she replied softly, "Thank you. Everyone followed their training. And my squad... they know how to handle the undead." The praise meant something but she also couldn't accept it. It hadn't been just her. Her grey eyes were stormy at the mention of the Lotus Eaters, but she didn't disagree, they had helped. "Are they going to keep helping is what I want to know now." She reached up to tug at the curl that the wind had curled and uncurled. "We've been in an uneasy truce with them for a time. But they were close to the Deathrunners. Closer than we are. Not that I am volunteering to spend half my nights in Suresh Lal's clubs." She paused, "Are we really just going to hunker down and wait while those corpses regroup in the Bayou? We've been silent for months... Waiting..." Her voice was still calm but the frustration breathed through it, "Someone has to pay for what happened. And the Deathrunners have to pay for stealing those souls that were turned into zombies and dragged back into the Bayou." She let out a soft sigh. "I know we need more information. But I also think that the longer we just sit quietly. The worse we look to the rest of the gangs in the City. People used to be scared of us. And they still should be."

[strangedevotions]

Elias blinked- saw himself for a moment, forty years younger and eager to strike- shook it off subtly, a quick twitch, and crossed his arms across his chest. He understood her frustration, her drive, understood that his words might mean jack shit to her on this issue, rubbed raw by this loss, but he knew what his role was in this moment. Whoever was coming, the Lightless couldn’t ask them to cut with a blunt blade. “We stand only to lose more, making a move right now. Don’t go chasing death- she’ll call for you when she’s ready.” 

“All of that is to come. I promise.” He said, seriously, “Take the rest. In this moment, it serves better to regroup, watch our backs and prepare for new leadership.” He looked to her, raising an eyebrow, “Tell me you understand that, Ms. Kestrel.” 

[rcppled]

A hum, lazy as it drags, is all that he imparts. Completely indifferent by tone alone, but there lies the barest hint of a smile at the very corner of his lips. While Rayaan doesn’t exactly follow Valerian’s movements, he certainly keeps track in the periphery of his sight. Habit and all; one that seems to have stemmed long before their initial rendezvous. At least he doesn’t bore holes into that pretty blond head — well anymore than necessary. Especially not now when those fingers run through the thick of his hair. 

Something of a chuckle slips through when met with an expected answer — if the slight noise could even be considered as such. It’s more of a partial huff than anything, but the stone mask of his usually impassive features wears around the eyes. “Of all places to immerse yourself in for work..” He never understood it. Thinks it best that he doesn’t, honestly, but if it’s something Valerian enjoys ( aside from shifts like today ) then so be it. 

“Heart-shaped peppers.” Confirmation embossed in a touch of pride, his hand tilts slightly to bear more of the fruit’s smooth skin. “First of this season.” And a damn shame he isn’t able to enjoy it properly, but he has this moment. Deems it sweet enough to stave off the dull ache of disappointment.

[strangedevotions]

Valerian searches his husband’s features, curiosity written on his own openly. “Careful, that’s almost a smile, my sunset.” He says softly, unable to resist teasing but not wanting to break the moment. With 130-odd years of conjoined history to refer back to and 115 as the volatile creature he is, it was certain they would clash soon enough- rubbed raw by proximity- but for now, warmth curled behind his ribcage like some soft, purring thing. He was genuinely fascinated by the dedication the other had for the life held in this artificial jungle- the quiet peace the fighter found in this space. “It looks good. Lovely color. Heart-shaped.” He says as if he has any clue what the thing should look like. 

He raises a hand to touch again, fingertips dancing along the back of Rayaan’s hand, lifting it toward him gently and tracing his thumb along the edge of his palm. He holds the man’s hand and pepper close to his nose and inhales; imagines that it tastes as bright and sweet as it smells, considers biting down to feel the crunch of it in his teeth- knows it will be ash on his tongue. He hums and looks up to him, clear as day that he would sink his teeth in, if told- if he thought it would bring Rayaan some kind of joy. “What did you get up to today?”   

[undead-jude]

Where: Baba Yaga Waffle House

@strangedevotions (Val)

The sign buzzed faintly overhead, one bulb stuttering like a faltering heartbeat. If purgatory had a smell, Jude thought, it would probably be this. Burnt syrup, stale coffee, and the faintest trace of blood that clung to the late shift like a secret.

He sat in a booth near the window, hands folded around a chipped mug of coffee he wouldn’t drink. The steam curled up, ghostlike, and fogged the glass. Outside, the French Quarter slept unevenly, neon bleeding into fog, the hum of distant music fading to something that sounded almost holy if you tilted your head right.

He wasn’t sure what had drawn him here tonight. Maybe it was habit. Checking on Deathrunner haunts, making sure the city still breathed. Old habits from when he'd been human. The urge to be around the living but on his own terms. Or maybe he wanted the company of other vampires. Something he still struggled with.

When the bell over the kitchen door chimed, Jude looked up. Valérian moved through the fluorescent light. Even in the humdrum setting of laminated menus and sticky booths, he seemed untouchable. Something that every vampire besides Jude seemed to have. “Evening,” Jude said, his voice low but warm, the drawl of his Louisiana roots showing more at this hour. The faintest smile tugged at his lips, soft and self-deprecating. “It's never occured to me to ask you... Why a shift manager here?”

[strangedevotions]

“Evening~” Valerian sang and dropped himself in the booth across from Jude. The vinyl squeaked as it compressed under his weight, laying back lengthwise as he listened to the man’s question. “I was a waiter first, but I was tired of children telling me to clean the bathrooms.” 

He sat up, hands dancing in the air between them as he spoke, “Sleep-deprived, drunk, whatever mess of a night they have, humans flock here at the end of it from all directions. It’s sacred ground, Father, and all who worship are welcome.” The fluorescent light above them buzzed and considered dying for a moment, flickering, before deciding against it and returning to its full brightness. Valerian smiled. “The energy that creates is just delicious. Plus, I hear all sorts of deep, dark secrets, which is fun.” He shifted, elbows on the table and chin dropping into one palm, “You look like you don’t have a date for prom, Jude. What brings you to the confessional of cracked formica tonight?”

[sanguisxferox]

mmmm"Minus the occasional bad attitude, I'm a great cook and great at cleaning. Also, last time I check, everyone is very happy to visit my bed again and again. Seems like the stereotypical wife men wanted." The way they say it though, Knox is clearly mocking traditional views, but at the same time, they would most likely do make a good partner if they could. "I suppose you're right." Knox responds with a grind. They do say seriously—"Still, it'd be unfair of me to put anyone in a situation like that knowing they'll never be my priority." They mean that, genuinely.

Knox listens, always liking how Valerian's whole body talks. "So you've been a busy bee?" The familiar listens; interested in what the vampire tells them. Though at the question being sent their way, Knox looks at Valerian carefully; searching in his gaze to see if the vampire cares about the answer or if he's just being polite. "I'm—I've been better. But I'll push through it like everything else before." The familiar lacks confidence in those last words; like he’s unsure of his success. "I don't have Lionfish venom in my bloodstream so that's already a good thing.

[strangedevotions]

Valerian giggles, grinning back at the other. He’d yet to visit Knox’s bed- had good enough manners not to invite third parties to his own, already shared, without a lengthy discussion first. “That, my dear, is why you are sweet Knox.” He moves back into Knox’s orbit again, catching his arm once more. “All that gruff on the surface, but the man thinks of fairness in love.” He didn’t mind the knowledge- whatever danced between them, Valerian certainly wasn’t asking Knox to love him, more than content to be desired.  

He meets Knox’s eyes easily, and genuinely cares to hear his answer. “That would ruin the blood…” His nose scrunches. He wouldn’t drink the shifter’s blood either way, suspicious of what his peculiarities would do. “Can’t imagine that would be pleasant for you, either.” He tips his head, dropping his cheek to Knox’s shoulder for a moment, “You will. Push through, I mean." He says, matter-of-factly, "I believe in you.”

[sanguisxferox]

"The honor is all mine Elias." There's not a single hint of deception or sarcasm in their voice. Kali means those words genuinely. They don't know these people personally, but has heard of them from Death.

"And what if I'd like to refer to you as what you like?" There's mirth in the Avatar's eyes. "A leash? Do you like being on a leash, Elias? I didn't know we were sharing kinks." The joke—awful as it is—is meant to lighten up the conversation. "Pleasantries aside; yes, decorum is important and I do highly value formalities and traditions. So we can agree that only during formal meetings or in the presence of outsiders, titles—if required—shall be used. I may have the rank of Leader, but I too am her servant, we all are." Kali is humble and clearly doesn't see themselves above all, but their comment let it transpire that they will be harsh with fellow Lightless only if required.

"Would it be impolite or too indiscrete of me to ask why you haven't shared your heart even during your retirement?" Elias is a beautiful man and from the way their Goddess had highly spoken of him, Kali is a bit surprised that he's seemingly single. "And what has your mind be filled with?" There's a paused after their last question, before they comment—"If you wish to ask me anything, please feel at ease to do so." This isn't an interrogation, but a conversation between two people who will be around each other until they fall into their Goddess' waiting embrace or Kali is no longer needed."

[strangedevotions]

“I… would like you to call me Elias, Kali.” Elias is surprised to find himself sincere; meeting her bright eyes for a moment before looking away quickly at her mention of kinks, eyes dropping to his own shoes, a huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest. He feels heat rise to his face, but schools his expression quickly and does not answer, something in him not entirely willing to lie to her when asked such a direct question; letting her carry forward the conversation. 

He looks back to her as she asks her next questions, offers a shrug, “Not so many people left these days I have things in common with. Then take away those that can only see where the calendar days between them and loss fall short.” His prospects narrow. 

“As for my mind… The city is on edge. A horde unleashed does that.” He shifts, clasping one wrist in the other hand behind his back and continuing honestly, “The Lightless are heartbroken- for many of them, twenty-four years is a long time. They have only served under Callum. They’re ready to act, and they do not know what happens next. You have good people in your hands, Kali, but I do not envy the position you step into.” He smiles, “What about you? You’re not from New Orleans- where is your heart?” 

[sanguisxferox]

"Funny, you always felt more like timeless to me." He says seriously—though, it had almost sounded like Knox had thought out loud more than meant to talk about it. Knox chuckles. "I'm sure you were. I do think I'd make a great one myself if it wasn't for my emotional unavailability." They admit truthfully. There's some glee in their gaze even though they'd been honest at that moment. "Thank you for liking me being crass with a sprinkle of decency." They reply, before grinning boyishly.

Knox squeezes back the arm, like he's reassuring Valerian over some invisible threat—that's just their normal over-protectiveness showing. "Of course." They won't maim the body beyond use. "So healthy and strong body for the gentleman." They say, winking at Valerian. "You seem as fabulous as always, but seriously, how have you been since the Festival, Valerian?"

[strangedevotions]

“What, a good wife?” Valerian tugs gently as he walks, leading the way; the thought of Knox dressed up in a pinafore crossing his mind briefly; abandoned quickly to continue on teasingly, sarcasm lacing his words, “That’s what laudanum is for, sweetheart, emotional availability isn’t necessary for wives.” If Knox wanted to open up to Valerian about something, he was certainly available, but he wouldn’t push; in this, he had no desire to be where he was not wanted. 

“How have I been? I’ve been lovely. A touch quiet, until the last few days-“ He lets go of Knox’s arm to speak with both hands as he continues rambling about what he’s been up to since the festival, his disappointment in the wasted horde; wandering a few steps away before getting caught in the other’s orbit again, moving back into his space. “You’re the one that had to be caught up in all this, Knox, how are you?”

[thegraveyardshifts]

She'd never had the honor of having a younger sibling, being 2 of 2. Her mère once admitted after too much wine in a stuffy ballroom that there had once been an idea to have an entire pack of Beauharnais children to continue on an esteemed and noble bloodline - though, the idea was soon dashed upon realizing the pain of childbirth. Agathe had watched both parents struggle for dominance in a loveless marriage. That's why, as a silly mortal girl, she had desired love. She would love a man, and bare him many children, and love all of them also.

Fanciful human yearnings, of course. Agathe did miss having a brother, though, even if his kindly face only came to her in flashes when in a deep slumber, or when conversing with Henry.

"You'd never let me," Agathe could do this all evening, trading barbs with someone with whom she's friendly with one day and not so much the next, bringing her heels together as she stands without barely any movement.

"It has its uses, like when you don't wish to look like a serial killer. Sometimes a clean stalk is nice, the unexpected nature of a sudden death...the eyes don't even register it sometimes, quite interesting,"

[strangedevotions]

“I like it when adrenaline takes over; just delicious what it does to them.” The way it raced through him; tangy with fear. Valerian says it with a shrug, continuing, “Besides: I look good in red. You know.” He looks over her again, grinning- the flip between moods easy. 

“I was headed toward the Quarter. With dinner out of the way I was thinking about a drink.” Valerian turns on his heel, flipping blond waves back with the movement, offering his cleaner arm to her in some imitation of a gentleman, “Going my way, madam?”

[sanguisxferox]

Kali's smile grows—so much life, even in the way they breathe. And it's not because they think themselves immune to death, but because they cherish every second they are allowed on this Earth. Kali would be the leader the Lightless needed, but not all the one they wanted. Unanimity isn't something they expected. Just as she had told Suresh, Death gave her disciples freedom and that freedom came with not always agreeing with their decision. But just like their Goddess, Kali wants to protect the Lightless to the best of their abilities; help them through what is ahead.

Kali bows back, lower than the human had; paying her respect to him. "She has spoken highly of you. Your return is most welcome." The Avatar greets properly. There's no false pretense in their voice and even if the shapeshifter is a Leader, they understand that in the end, they're all equals. "A home we will all visit. Thank you, Elias." To take him out of retirement, Death had needed stability and familiarity; her strongest champions to be present once more. Kali is aware that even with unshakable faith, coming back had required sacrifices. Sacrifices are something she understands intimately even now as they speak. This is the first thing they have in common, being dragged into chaos. Though, she welcomes the adventure, may it be another to her book or its final chapter.

"May I refer to you as Elias? You may call me Kali, though, I understand the value and preference for honorifics." They could talk about the situation in a moment, but they want to hear about each member first; see the irons and the velvets among the Lightless. "The Lightless aside, tell me, where are your heart and mind at?" It might sound like trick question, but it's not.

[strangedevotions]

“I’m honored.” Elias says, a hint of surprise coloring his tone at the bow returned; blinking there for a moment. 

“You may refer to me however you’d like.” It was Kali’s board, after all- he would play whatever game she liked; be whatever Death asked him to be, iron or velvet, caress or fist or knife. “The honorifics help when a leash needs to be tugged.” His leash, in turn, falls to her hand, “Sets a standard.” His smile returns, hands releasing from where they’d been clasped, “Between us though, I don’t foresee an issue of respect.” Between them, Kali could lob any disrespect she felt like at Elias and it’d make little difference, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kali.”

Where was his heart at? Elias’ head tilts. Where else but here? Talk about sacrifice; the life he had constructed for himself was a shell, home crafted of stage flats. A handful of kind but ultimately shallow friendships; his neighbor of twenty years, a regular that dropped off laundry every week, an employee and her giggling children- he had no blood; even the last strands of his little family, shredded as they were, only found him through knowing the Lightless. His eyes follow a long lock of her dark hair as wind pulls at it, speaking after a moment of thought, “My heart is here. My mind is not so singular. It’s been busy. Though, admittedly, I prefer busy.”