Summer Hollidell

The rising sun can dispel the darkness of night, but it cannot banish the blackness of malice, hatred, bigotry, and selfishness from the hearts of humanity.

[msmarvel-danvers-deactivated201]

Nox Gelus || Markus+Summer

[msmarvel-danvers-deactivated201]

Dark eyes narrowed in response to Summer’s jape. Regardless of her sex, Markus admired the blonde girl. She was everything a demon should be and had an excellent mind for destruction. Civilizations had fallen in her wake which made Summer all the more appealing. He was happy to have someone like her among his ranks, which is why he allowed her to throw her cruel little jokes every now and again. 

"Do not lump me up with Asa." The dark-haired male grimaced a bit. “Jolich has served me for many years, even during my time in Hell. He is more than just a ‘man-servant’, I trust him." Jolich was his informant, one of the best he had. The gaunt man would have known what Markus’ enemies had for breakfast three days ago if he wished to know that information.

Before the demon boss had gotten too off-topic, he brought his attention back to more pressing matters. “Come and sit, Summer. We have better things to discuss than my ‘lofty titles’." A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth and he reached for his flagon of wine to pour himself and Summer a cup. “I need you to tell me about what happened at the Kingsley Riot." 

[summer--hollidell]

Amusement twinkled in Summer’s eyes as she was directed to sit, a delicate hand closing around the offered cup of wine. Despite her growing reservations, the girl had missed this, had missed him – mixed tendrils of fear and admiration snaking through her form at Markus’ presence. It was strange, but Summer wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

As the conversation progressed – the truth of her summoning rising quickly to the forefront – the demon choked; wine catching in her throat as terror seized her body. Swallowing the mouthful of liquid, Summer coughed and wheezed as she struggled to once again fill her lungs with air, her breathing heavy and laboured. Calming, the girl finally chanced a glance at Markus, her already pale features appearing pallid and drawn.

“Those things, those Knights…” the words hissed between Summer’s clenched teeth, “victory was ours, it was all but assured – and then they arrived. They are abominations, Markus, the creatures hiding in dark that even the monsters fear. And their power – they were tearing through us like paper; destroying us with just a wave of a hand”.

She paused, shaking her head sadly. “I am doing what I can, what I must, to learn what I can about these creatures; but, I feel we may be outmatched”.

“Markus,” Summer continued a moment later, her tone barely above a whisper, “I was afraid”.

Despite the simplicity of her statement, Summer knew the gravity of her words would not be lost on Markus. Fear was not something the girl had ever known – she had toppled nations without a second thought – but the Kingsley Riot had changed all that.

[littlegoldendove]

Anatomy of the Devil's Brain:: OPEN

[littlegoldendove]

“Coming right up” Addison said reaching for the strongest bottle of liquor they had before turning and grabbing a glass off the shelf behind her. 

Addison glanced at the girl sitting in front of her, she was not human nor vampire but something entirely different. She had only encountered a few demons in her lifetime but there was an unmistakable scent that they carried upon themselves. There was no mistaking this girl for anything but a demoness which made her wary. She handed the demon a drink with a slight smile curling on her lips, she had to admit she was some what curious as to why a demon had strolled into her bar. This girl was definitely unlike her normal customers and was certainly more on edge than her usual bar patrons. 

When the demon spoke to her, Addison was slightly taken aback by her boldness. Derek and her had refused to align with either clan, something that was frowned upon by other vampires. He had promised her it was for the best but occasionally she wondered if choosing a side would be such bad thing. She met the demons stare with an icy response “I align with neither, my maker and I are free” Addison tilted her head slightly “What about yourself, not that I care but I am curious” She said with a smirk before pushing a piece of her dark brown hair behind her ear.  

[summer--hollidell]

Nodding curtly – a gesture of thanks – Summer took a generous sip of her drink. A grimace graced her features for a moment as the liquid trailed fire down her throat; settling into a pleasant burn as it reached her stomach. Alcohol was one of the few human indulgences the demon actually liked; although it was not something she partook in often – it upset the balance of her vessel. Heat radiated through her system, racing along every nerve. Summer’s fingers and toes tingled; her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. The girl sighed contentedly; a soft smile lifting the corners of her lips. It reminded her somewhat of home – the heat, the fire – her real home, not her existence upon this plane.

“Probably a wise choice, remaining neutral…” Summer replied, her sentence seeming to trail off. A decision I am beginning to wish I had been bold enough to make for myself. Even as the thought crossed her mind, the demon remained unconvinced of her own words. She did love Seryth; she merely questioned the current path Markus was leading them down. Leader knows best.

“Just to indulge your curiosity – my loyalties rest with Seryth” Summer replied, offering the vampire a smirk of her own. For a time, the demon allowed the conversation of fall – the silence punctuated by the occasional sip of her drink. Feeling calmer, freer as the alcohol began to take effect, Summer allowed her guard to fall slightly.

“Do you not worry, nor fear, running such an establishment – here of all places – given the war building around you? At least, should you be discovered, you’ll have you choice of supernatural shield to aide your escape – although that would hardly help business; although I suppose there wouldn’t be a business left at that point” the demon half questioned, half rambled.

This was just another reason why Summer rarely indulged her taste for drinking – it caused her to talk, without a purpose, without reason. She hated it; yet the words flowed freely.

[msmarvel-danvers-deactivated201]

Nox Gelus || Markus+Summer

Night had fallen once again, rousing Markus from his slumber. As usual, he bathed, dressed, and broke his fast before having his thrall inform him with Athoria’s daily news. The servant still hadn’t found out any information on the Knights of the Order and Markus was starting to grow very impatient. From whispers around the camp, all he heard of were stories and no one he knew had actually seen the beings first-hand. Yet, there was a fleeting rumor that Adarna and Summer had been in Monir when another riot happened and he wanted to see if this was true. 

“Have you seen Adarna at all today?” He asked the thrall. 

“No, Sire. She is away from the Camp this evening.” 

His brows furrowed irritably and he shifted in his seat. “Bring me Summer, then. I need to speak with her.”

The servant’s gaunt body bowed before he took his leave. “Right away, Sire.”

Once he left the tent, Markus dove  back into his thoughts, focusing once more on the mysterious beings. From reports he heard, there were only six Nights of the Order and they possessed enough power to tip an entire battle in their favor. They were a serious problem; he’d be damned if he went into battle against them without any knowledge of their weakness. 

[summer--hollidell]

Summer had not be in camp long, and already she was feeling the need to escape. Olia Meadows was no place for demons – for Seryth. It was Draugr territory; the stench of vampires hung heavy in the air. If it were not for her loyalty to Seryth, and to Markus, the demon questioned whether she would have returned to camp at all.

Having secluded herself within her tent – a sparsely decorated, deathless room when compared to her chamber beneath The Devil’s Den – since her return, Summer had consciously avoided contact with her kin. Much like their new landlords, the demons within the camp had all but become nocturnal; which, thankfully, made the girl’s self-isolation easier.

“Lord Markus would like to see you, Milady”

The voice rose gently from the entrance of her tent, startling Summer from her musings. The demon nodded sharply in reply, acknowledging and dismissing the thrall with a single gesture. Rising, Summer draped a light cloak over her shoulders, steeled herself, and made her way toward Markus’ tent. She knew better than to keep him waiting for long.

“You asked to see me, Sire?” Summer announced, a hint of derision in her tone. The demon smiled broadly at Markus. “Exactly how much time have you been spending with the Draugr queen – adopting such lofty titles, not to mention the man-servant?”

[summer--hollidell]

Solace || Summer and Elki

“The roads are dangerous a night, Miss!” the town guard called in vain as Summer made her way out of Leeds. “Best wait until morning; bound to be caravans travelling Olia way.”

Waving him off, the demon continued down the road – the tail end of the man’s words lost to the night’s air. Summer needed to breathe, needed to feel a sense of space, of freedom. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing where she was headed. Olia Meadows. The new base of operations for the Seryth-Draugr alliance.

Summer hated Markus for the choice he had made, for the way he had debased Seryth by aligning with the bloodsuckers; but, he was still the boss, was still the one that had given her a sense of purpose and direction when she’d arrived in Athoria. She owed him, didn’t she? Or perhaps she owed it to the others, her Seryth family, to try and hold them together? Summer wasn’t sure anymore; she had never had cause to question herself before the nation had been plunged into war.

With a quick shake of her head, Summer pushed the thoughts aside. She didn’t want to deal with that now. She wanted to run, to escape from herself for however brief a moment.

Once clear of the city, the demon smiled – a small and sad expression – digging her heels into the ground and pushing off. Her speed built slowly; but, before long, Summer appeared as little more than a passing blur. Wind screamed in her ears as she ran, the ground beating sharply against the soles of her shoes.

Summer ran until her lungs felt ready to burst; coming to a stop at the crest of a small hill. Falling back onto the grass, the demon fought to catch her breath – a jubilant laugh escaping her throat as air filled her lungs once more. Laying back, Summer stared up at the night sky. She was stalling, that much she knew, but she was beyond caring.

[summer--hollidell]

Athoria Challenge #003

The Devil’s Den. Once home to gamblers and degenerates alike; now standing all but empty, a tribute to turbulent times. Summer trailed her hand along an empty table, casting an uninterested glance across the few souls who still ventured out in such dangerous circumstances. Frowning, the demoness moved through the room – all but ignored by the buildings few attendants. Summer was headed for the lower levels; once the headquarters for her beloved Seryth – now abandoned in favour of the Olia Medows.

The war … the alliance with the Draugr had changed everything.

Slipping from sight, Summer descended the concealed stairs with practiced ease. A feeling of nostalgia rose in her chest as she descended into the gloominess below. The lower levels of The Devil’s Den had always been dark, but the darkness was greater now. And it was more than a mere absence of light – it was the absence of life. The Devil’s Den was dead. Not the kind of death that Summer revelled in; the kind with colour – blood red, movement, heat and sound – screams of pain, cries for mercy. It was still and silent, monochromatic, frigid. Irrevocably dead.

At the base of the stairs, the first subterranean level of the The Devil’s Den opened up before the demon – the room dominated by a large central table, the space itself adorned with all manner of additional ramshackle furnishings and trinkets. It was homely … it had been homely. Summer recalled many a night she had returned fresh faced and giddy from a kill, descended to this room and been greeted by the sight of Seryth – of her family – laughing and sharing stories over a meal or a pint of ale.

But that had been before – before the war, before the alliance, before everything had changed.

The memories rose unbidden as Summer moved further into chamber, the girl’s teeth gritted against the pain and anger that pounded within her chest, howled through every corner of her mind. Before she could stop it, a scream tore from her throat – bitter and melancholic. A flagon shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces as it smashed against the room’s far wall, thrown with the force of emotions long contained.

Summer crumpled to the floor, a trembling ruin.

This had been her home once. She had had a family – many now dead, many displaced – before the war. Not anymore. It had all changed. Summer knew it would never be what it once was – The Devil’s Den, Seryth – they would all bear the scars of this war.

In that moment, Summer had never felt more alone.

[hellodollfac3]

[littlegoldendove]

Anatomy of the Devil's Brain:: OPEN

The dimly lit streets glowed faintly through the windows of the bar, she could see the different streams of light like she could touch each one if she just reached out. It was something Addison had never really gotten used to even after being a vampire for what seemed like an eternity, her vision made everything seem so tangible. A smile curled on her pink tinted lips as she finished wiping down the counter, she was happily distracted by her thoughts but there was a time and a place for that. It wasn’t a busy night but there were certainly quite a few people littered around the bar as there always was. She could smell the diversity of creatures that roamed around, vampires, humans, werewolves…she scrunched her nose when she caught the scent of one “Mutts” she murmured under her breath.

Addison focused her attention on the person who sat down in front of her. “Welcome to Midnight Run, what can I get for you” 

[summer--hollidell]

“Surprise me – just make it strong” Summer replied absently, slumping into a chair by the bar.

The Midnight Run wasn’t the type of the place the demon would have normally visited – to many people, to many supernaturals. It wasn’t the she abhorred her kindred; but, Summer usually found herself being more selective about her company, not associating with any old rabble. However, being in Brailston Village, a certain level of safety and security was required; it was the nation’s capital after all, and the King’s agents could be anywhere. With the events of Monir City still fresh in her mind, Summer was taking no chances. The more supernatural fodder she was surround with, the greater her own chances of survival should the bar be discovered.

Straightening, the demoness turned toward the bar, finally acknowledging the woman standing behind it. With just a cursory glance, it was obvious she was a vampire. Summer’s upper lip curled in disgust at the realisation. Ever since Markus had allied Seryth with the Draugr, the girl’s tolerance for bloodsuckers had grown ever thinner.

“Calm yourself,” Summer internally chastised, “if word should reach Markus – although…”

“Draugr or De La Nuit?” the girl asked, locking gazes with the vampire.

[iamadamstanley]

[flawless-elle]

[summer--hollidell]

Hallowed Ground || Summer and Stephen

[father-stephen-deactivated20131]

The conversation tone shifted so suddenly that Stephen was immediatly tense. Although it was an immense relief to know that the demon was unaware of the prestigious status of his traveling companion.

“Help?” He barked out a laugh. “What makes you think I would help you, hellspawn?”

But even as the sentence left him, he found himself caught up on the word price. His father had often warned him about making deals with fae and demons, but thus far demons had only attempted to strike deals to avoid being exorcised. Never had one actively seeked him out. For a moment, his thoughts went to the princess. He wondered what her mouth would feel like.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing away the thoughts that were gently clawing at his resolve. He measured his words carefully.

“You ask no small favor. I would be endangering innocent lives and possibly my own soul.”

So why was he still considering it?

Stephen reasoned that he could lie to the demon and agree to help, which would at least ensure his and Bethory’s safety until he returned her to the castle. But deep down, if he was being honest with himself, he knew he was doing it to buy time to make a decision. The temptation was too sharp to ignore. He had thought he could manage lusting after the girl from a distance, but that was when it was his only option. He was over a decade older than she and a man of the cloth. His father had hammered into him to never let a woman be his weakness, but when he said it he was referring to succubi and vampires and the like. His father had never warned him that a delicate and pretty human girl could be his downfall.

“I don’t know much about the Knights of the Order,” Stephen continued, his harshness faltering. “But I could possibly find out. They are tied to the church, after all, and my name does carry a bit of weight.”

He took his hand off his knife. “Obviously, I want to be sure my safety is guaranteed. The girl’s as well.” He hesitated to say the next part aloud. It had a sense of finality to it. Even though he’d mostly convinced himself that he was only doing it to protect himself and his charge, he still knew it had a ring of truth. His voice became quieter. “And I want the girl. Can you do that?”

[summer--hollidell]

At her words, Father Stephen’s composure faltered; inwardly, Summer smiled. She had him.

The shadow that had darkened her features a moment earlier lifted, replaced with a look of barely veiled satisfaction. As the man spoke, the demon remained silent. His internal struggle was apparent, the battle easily read upon his face, within the way that he moved, and the timbre of his voice. Finally, Father Stephen’s mind seemed to settle; his counter-offer causing Summer pause.

The guarantee of safety was expected; but the girl? The girl was a surprise.

“Perhaps it is you who has the virgin fixation, Father?” Summer replied with a sly smile, letting the words hang between them for a moment before continuing. “But I will do what I can to ensure the safety of you and your…companion. These are, however, uncertain times – nothing can be completely guaranteed. And, despite your line-of-work, I would expect you to take no unnecessary risks. I may require your assistance, Father; but, I am no guardian angel – remember that. Even I have my limits.”

As to what she could do about the girl – Summer was unsure. But it seemed that she was the clincher. If the demon couldn’t deliver the girl, then the deal was worthless.

“It isn’t within my individual power to sway the girl; but, even I have connections, Father. Although, I am surprised – do you not think your own … charms … could woo the girl? While your age would be a barrier for me, not all women are so inhibited.”

Summer paused, waiting for a response, before proceeding with a shrug.

“Perhaps a spell might be in order? Unless you want to go for the heroic rescue, damsel-in-distress scenario? Menace and terror are amongst my strengths. But yes, I can deliver you the girl; the choice of method is yours. I do ask one thing, Father – who is she? Such measures seem far too extreme for a simple orphan child.”

While it wasn’t a complete lie, Summer at least hoped her half-truth would prove believable. She needed the information the priest could provide.

“Do we have a deal?” Summer asked, closing the distance between herself and man. She waited.

[summer--hollidell]

Hallowed Ground || Summer and Stephen

[father-stephen-deactivated20131]

Stephen finished the rosary and began anew. He’d lost count of how many he had done. He found it a useful distraction. It kept him focused on his vows, and lately he needed that disturbingly often.

He and the princess had arrived at the church the evening before. He made sure to stay in churches and chapels as often as he could, as it deterred unholy beings and gave him an easier night’s sleep, especially since he was watching over another life as well as his own. This particular chapel was headed by an old friend of his and was rarely frequented by anyone.

In the middle of a Pater Noster, he thought he heard the faintest sound coming from the main hall, like someone had entered who didn’t want to be heard. In his experience, only two types of individuals snuck into churches: thieves and the unholy.

Stephen quietly checked the room where the princess slept. Satisfied that she was safe, he closed the door and went to his bag of effects resting on his borrowed bed. He withdrew a baptised stake and slid it into the sleeve of his robe, just to err on the side of caution.

He pushed the door to the hall open slightly, and saw a young girl walking down the aisle between the wooden pews. No. Not a girl. Her gait was slightly odd, more of a floating or gliding, and she had an unsettling sort of beauty, both of which he often found to often be traits of a demon.

That was odd. What would a demon be doing on holy ground? Unless…

He looked to the door of Bethory’s room, but told himself that there was no way anyone knew she was there, or who she was. Perhaps the demon was just looking to raise hell, so to speak. If the latter was the case, then under no circumstances could it be known that the princess was there. He locked her door and threw holy water in the lock. That would at least slow the demon down in the event of his death, however unlikely that may be. He would not take that risk.

Stephen took a deep breath, then swung the door to the main hall open wide, and said in a clear, resonating voice, “Don’t you think you’re a bit out of your element, hellspawn? To what do I owe the unwelcome intrusion?”

[summer--hollidell]

“I’d say I find your offer tempting, but I’d be lying” Summer replied, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke. “Besides, things are just beginning to get interesting around here, plans afoot and the like – why would any self-respecting demon want to miss out on all the fun?”

The demoness flashed a grin, the expressing lasting mere moments before the emotion faded.

“And a whole nest of vampires? During the day? Isn’t that just a little unsporting? Not that I’m completely ungrateful; a few less bloodsuckers around means more playthings – more humans – for the rest of us to torment.” Her tone was succinct as she spoke, matter-of-fact.

Summer continued to wind her way through the pews, sharp eyes remaining fixed upon the priest. She noted the way that he moved, the forced casualness of his manner. He was hiding something, she was certain of it – but then again, so was she.

“That is rather charitable of you, Father; although it seems a little beneath someone with your reputation. And a little dangerous. I did not think you the type to travel with a companion, least of all a poor orphan girl – planning on using her as a lure, or as a human shield? A sacrifice, perhaps? That’s all she’ll be if you should be attacked. Seems like an unnecessary risk if you ask me” Summer rattled-off, pausing to lean against one of the pews.

“Virgins do leave a certain … crispness on the palate – although they aren’t a personal favourite of mine. Too pure – tasteless.” The demon cringed at the thought, nose crinkled in disgust. “So you need not fear for your little pet, I’ve no interest in her aside from a passing curiosity.”

As the man launched into his own barrage of question, interlaced with an attempt at intimidation, Summer laughed. “You talk big for such an old man” the demoness replied with a smirk, pushing off from her seat and beginning to pace – nervous, uneasy,

“What better place to find a priest then a church?” Summer answered simply. “True, it isn’t exactly my element, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

And now they had reached the point of the evening, she could avoid it no longer. Never before had Summer felt so debased, so dirty.

“I…. require your he-, assistance” the girl murmured meekly, all her bravado evaporating in an instant. “I’m sure you’re aware of the events that occurred in Monir City – the battle was all but won, and then those … things … those monstrosities, changed everything. Knights of the Order. Vile creatures. I want to know what they, and how to destroy them; but I don’t have the connections that you do, I don’t walk in the same circles. I need your” – for a moment, the demon appeared to gag – “your help.”

If possible, Summer seemed to have paled even further. She appeared pained, a mere shadow of her earlier self.

“My kind are in danger. I wish to protect them; but I fear I cannot do that alone – as much as I wish I could” Summer continued, fixing her eyes upon the priest.

“Everyone has their price, Father; what is yours?”

[summer--hollidell]

[knight-mahalath]

Cold Venom || Adarna+Summer

[knight-mahalath]

“Pffft of course not. I was jus-” Her words were cut off when Summer issued a little challenge. She was beginning to like the ice demon more and more already. “You want to make that a bet?” Adarna replied as she was lead towards the chaos. The only weapons Adarna possessed was her speed, strength, and  dagger but Summer had a dangerous element on her side. Regardless of whether it was Winter or not, the Succubus just may lose the bet because the blonde had an advantage. But that wouldn’t bring her down at all. 

Once they entered the storm of fury, Adarna sent her dagger through the throat of the first human she saw and then another. It wasn’t long before she began to rip through the crowd in a black wind of blood and steel. Crimson ichor covered the blade and her entire right hand, raising her body count every single second. The succubus didn’t even check to see if Summer was nearby. If she wanted to find her, all she needed to follow was a trail of frozen corpses and ice spears. 

“This is almost too easy…” She thought as a knight approached her. He shouted at the woman, calling her monster and blindly swung his sword. In a blur, Adarna closed the distance between them and kicked him dead in the chest. The blow was so hard that it dented his cuirass and he collided with the cobblestone which caused his helm to fall off. She raised her leg high in the air before bringing the heel of her boot down on his head, crushing his skull. The sickening crunch of bone and organs would have made any normal person sick, but the demoness was used to such sights. Adarna hoped that the war would be just as fun. 

[summer--hollidell]

“If I win, you’ll he-“ Summer began, words catching in her throat as the demon was rushed from the side.

It was the cry she heard first - a sound composed more of fear then bravery or exhilaration. Grinning, Summer easily dodged the human’s clumsy swing. The man was clearly no solider, the short sword within his grasp falling wide, his grip loose. As the human stumbled from the force of his swing, the demoness reacted, clamping a vice-like hand around the man’s wrist. Using his momentum against him, Summer forced the trapped limb up and behind the man’s back with enough force to dislocate the human’s shoulder. He screamed. Summer laughed. Kicking out his knees, she forced him to the ground, releasing his arm and snapping his next in a single, fluid motion. Lifeless, the body slumped forward into the mud.

Seizing upon the down sword, Summer threaded the weapon through the belt of her dress. The demon rarely used arms of any kind, and never carried one on her person. She much preferred using her hands – nothing could compare to the feeling of bone snapping beneath her palms, or the sensation of fresh blood flowing freely down her arm – but this was different. She was vastly outnumbered, and had only one true ally upon the battlefield. Adarna. The other Supernaturals could not be trusted. Each fought for their own reasons, had their own alliances and agendas, and their own kind to protect.

Casting an eye across the bloodied ground, Summer caught sight of her fellow demon. The woman was but a dark shadow as she moved, leaving a trail of death and destruction in her wake.

“She is certainly going to make this a challenge,” the ice demon mused, throwing herself back into the fray. Gathering what little ice remained – small shards clustered atop the near thawed fountain, the beginnings of frost clinging to the grass – Summer formed a series of small ice spikes, sending them flying (with surprising accuracy) toward the nearest humans. A trio of men fell, grasping at punctured eyes, blood spurting from severed arteries.

The fighting continued for days, the ground a bloodied mess, littered with the corpses of human and Supernatural alike. Summer was exhilarated, taking in the battlefield as if it were a fine painting. The skirmish was all but won, the human’s strength depleted. Winding her way through the gore toward her comrade, the demon paused as a sudden change crashed over the assembled – the human’s suddenly crying out, as if in …. triumph?.

Even before setting eyes upon the six, Summer’s instincts were on edge. Ecstasy replaced with an overriding sense of dread. Crossing the distance that separated her from Adarna, the demoness’ eyes widened as one of the hooded figures revealed itself, proceeding the dispatch a vampire with ease, flames illuminating the night as the creature erupted into flame.

“What …. is that thing?” Summer hissed, glancing to Adarna.

She was afraid. For the first time in her existence, Summer was afraid.

[knight-mahalath]

Cold Venom || Adarna+Summer

[summer--hollidell]

 adarna-lilis:

Being cooped up at Seryth’s camp on the Draugr’s land was becoming quite bothersome. While Adarna loved being around her comrades, she hated being stuck with them every waking moment of each day. The majority of Seryth members were male and when men spend a lot of time in close-quarters things could get really messy. What the succubus really needed was some female company and who better to do a little bonding with than a fellow Capo like Summer Hollidell? Both women were to be Generals of Markus’ army after all, becoming acquainted would be customary. 

In an effort to get a little air they decided to attend the Beltane Festival in Monir, but the two demons were still accompanied by a small guard of hand-picked members. It would have been too risky for them to go alone, in such hectic times one could never let their guard down. Despite the possibility of danger, Adarna enjoyed a few drinks and laughter plagued her every sentence. “Summer…” The Succubus said, while looking down quizzically at the empty sheathe on her thigh. “Did you take my dagger?” She shot a knowing grin at the blonde and chuckled. “Come on…give it back.” Summer was known to have a bit of a thieving problem, but she figured it was just rumors.

Adarna went to lift the mug to her lips again as she held her hand out expectantly, but a commotion nearby distracted her. “What the hell is going on over there?” It wasn’t before long that the word ‘werewolves’ and ‘supernaturals’ were thrown around and a riot broke out the instant a fatality occurred. Individuals hollered about a werewolf child being killed and that the supernaturals had become furious. Immediately, Adarna turned back to Summer and shot her a curious look. “This doesn’t really concern us, should we get involved?” Regardless of whether or not it was their business, she was itching for a good fight and hoped that Summer felt the same. 

When Adarna had first suggested the two do a little bonding, Summer has been hesitant – she had always preferred to operate alone, no one to get in the way, nobody to mess things up. Outings were no exception. Summer always found the tastiest mortal toys on her own. Still, with things within the Seryth camp growing increasingly tenuous, the girl had relented.

As they had neared Monir City, Summer’s mood had grown steadily darker as the temperature had grown incrementally higher. The idea of the Beltane Festival was monstrous to the ice demon. Winter was the epitome of strength and power – a season ripe for death – and celebrating its end, rejoicing in the approaching summer, seemed a ludicrous idea. Summer hated it. The merriment, the maypole, the frivolity, the life – it sickened her.

Yet, as the day had progressed, the girl’s mood at lightened, hastened along by the drinks Adarna had secreted to her (one of the only downsides to such a youthful form). She’d even found the company pleasant, something which was most unexpected.

“What dagger?” Summer replied with a rueful grin, rolling the stolen dagger between her fingers.

She had been contemplating whether or not to return the weapon when a commotion had broken out nearby. Word had trickled toward the pair slowly – werewolves, supernaturals – and then flooded them all at once. There had been a scuffle and a death, a werewolf child lay slain.

“….should we get involved?”

The question snapped Summer back to attention, a devilish smile spreading across her face.

“Are you kidding? Do you really want to let an opportunity like this slip?” she replied, firmly planting Adarna’s dagger back in her outstretched hand. The demoness was eager to see what her fellow Capo was capable of, to see if she were worthy of serving alongside.

Clasping her hands behind her back, Summer sauntered forward; stopping several feet in front of her fellow demon before turning back to face her. “Or are you afraid I’ll kill more then you? Hmm?” the girl added with a wicked grin.

Grabbing Adarna by the wrist, Summer dragged her toward the fray, her voice giddy with excitement, “if you don’t hurry, we’ll miss out.”

Now this was a fitting way to farewell winter.

[summer--hollidell]

Hallowed Ground || Summer and Stephen

[father-stephen-deactivated20131]

Stephen finished the rosary and began anew. He’d lost count of how many he had done. He found it a useful distraction. It kept him focused on his vows, and lately he needed that disturbingly often.

He and the princess had arrived at the church the evening before. He made sure to stay in churches and chapels as often as he could, as it deterred unholy beings and gave him an easier night’s sleep, especially since he was watching over another life as well as his own. This particular chapel was headed by an old friend of his and was rarely frequented by anyone.

In the middle of a Pater Noster, he thought he heard the faintest sound coming from the main hall, like someone had entered who didn’t want to be heard. In his experience, only two types of individuals snuck into churches: thieves and the unholy.

Stephen quietly checked the room where the princess slept. Satisfied that she was safe, he closed the door and went to his bag of effects resting on his borrowed bed. He withdrew a baptised stake and slid it into the sleeve of his robe, just to err on the side of caution.

He pushed the door to the hall open slightly, and saw a young girl walking down the aisle between the wooden pews. No. Not a girl. Her gait was slightly odd, more of a floating or gliding, and she had an unsettling sort of beauty, both of which he often found to often be traits of a demon.

That was odd. What would a demon be doing on holy ground? Unless…

He looked to the door of Bethory’s room, but told himself that there was no way anyone knew she was there, or who she was. Perhaps the demon was just looking to raise hell, so to speak. If the latter was the case, then under no circumstances could it be known that the princess was there. He locked her door and threw holy water in the lock. That would at least slow the demon down in the event of his death, however unlikely that may be. He would not take that risk.

Stephen took a deep breath, then swung the door to the main hall open wide, and said in a clear, resonating voice, “Don’t you think you’re a bit out of your element, hellspawn? To what do I owe the unwelcome intrusion?”

[summer--hollidell]

At the sound of his voice, Summer turned upon her heels, regarding the man before her with a look of unconcealed disappointment. She held little doubt that it was Father Stephen Freeman standing before her; most priests were not so openly hostile, nor as sharply observant.

“For someone with such a fearsome reputation, you’re rather unimpressive; and I must admit I was expecting someone a little less … old” Summer stated with a casual air as she seated herself upon the altar.

To what do I owe the unwelcome intrusion?

Crossing her ankles, Summer’s hands fell into her lap, the corners of her mouth dropping into a frown; her demeanour changing from confident to coy.

“Perhaps I am but a little lost lamb, Father? One in need of salvation? Of the Almighty’s forgiveness? And here I am, having chanced upon one of God’s most disgruntled servants.”

Dropping down from her perch, Summer moved gracefully back toward the lines of pews. Despite the ease of her manner, the demon’s senses remained fixed on the priest. He may have failed to meet her personal expectations, but that did not change the threat he posed.

“Rumour has it that you’re no longer chasing just vampires” the girl continued, dropping the act, “but that the rest of us are fair game now as well? And then there is talk of a girl. She must be something quite spectacular, or are you less holy then you appear Father?”

Pausing, the demoness flashed Stephen a charming smile, the tone in her voice light, “I want the truth. Lie to me, and I will tear you apart. I hope we have an understanding?”

[summer--hollidell]

[summer--hollidell]

Hallowed Ground || Summer and Stephen

To say she was intrigued was an understatement. Never had a human – a priest at that – held such a reputation amongst the Supernatural community as this man; Father Stephen Freeman. Summer had heard of his family throughout the years, a frightened whisper on the lips of the vampires she had encountered, but she had given it barely a passing thought – until now. Rumours had begun to swirl. The priest’s quarry had changed, his list of targets no longer consisted strictly of blood-suckers. All of the Supernatural world was now fair game. No one was safe. There was even talk that Father Stephen had taken a consort, a pretty little thing no doubt. But Summer had never been one to put much faith in such talk. She intended to find the truth for herself. It was this hunger that had led her to trespass on hallowed ground.

The church rose before her, a crude crucifix looming down from the building’s steeple-crowned roof. Beneath her feet, the ground pulsed with an unnatural holiness. Summer hissed through her teeth as the sensation radiated up through her legs. The feeling was far from painful, it just held and unwelcome purity. Steeling her resolve, the girl moved forward. A gloved hand settled upon the handle, pulling the door ajar just enough for Summer’s lithe frame to slip through.

The building’s interior was candle-lit, the flickering flames causing the shadows to dance along the walls. The front of the room was dominated by a large altar, pews running in strict lines from there to the back of the room. Hidden beyond the fields of her immediate view were smaller cloisters and antechambers. All would be explored at her leisure. Whether Father Stephen could be found within one of these rooms remained unknown; regardless, there were bound to be others – a nun perhaps, or another priest – and if they proved useless (or even if they didn’t), Summer would enjoy indulging in a little sacrilege.

Pulling back the hood of her cloak, Summer moved lightly through the church, a hand trailing lazily along the tops of the pews as she passed them. As she reached the altar, the young girl’s head cocked to the side, her lips thinning as she regarded the cross that rested there.

“I never did understand the fuss” Summer mused aloud, fingers hovering just above the holy symbol.