#cchqopen

[illpcrish]

“Oh, Father, who art in heaven,” a soft whisper as heels clipped the cement sidewalk. A ring glistened on his white button-up, reflecting a sun which he could stroll under without so much as burned flesh. 

“Holy be thy name,” a soft breath carried his words, vampire heading off to one of the blood bars that populated this side of Cyanide. He hated to go in, mingle with the immoral and corrupt that spawned like flies. But it had to be done, or else more bodies will be tied to him.

The Defiance affiliate paused in his steps. Someone had followed him. Someone who he didn’t recognize, in smell nor breaths. What was it, were they so desperate to seek a counsel with God when the preacher had better things to do by quenching his thirst?

Joshua turned around, the broad of his back illuminated by the streetlamp above. Dark eyes scrutinized the other, while he put on a gentle tone that reverberated in his throat, “Are you seeking guidance from God? I am afraid I’m not here to pray-on-the-go. Tell me, what is it that truly brings you to follow me?” 

[taintedwitch]

The young vampire was expertly making his way around the bar at Helium Nightclub, having quickly got used to the crowded conditions of the club since there never seemed to be a slow night. Noel had gotten quiet a few good tips today, although he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The cute/shy boy rarely got bad tips considering he tried his best to make sure everyone left satisfied and pleased.

Noticing someone flagging him down on the otherside of the bar, Noel quickly set the cocktail down in front of the customer who had ordered it before making his way towards them. “H-Hi...My name’s Noel. Do you know what you’d like?” Noel asked kindly with a smile.

[sinwritten]

“There is always the fear of not having control.” He admits, “There are plenty of reasons I don’t drink from humans. Whether it’s because I fear I will harm them or just depend on it far too much... I cannot bring myself to do it.” Erik had never been a particularly violent person and most of the time was probably considered far too passive for his own good. “I think I sometimes overcompensate for others like me... it’s why I want to do good. I refuse to believe this world is beyond any type of redemption. That would just be... too sad, y’know?”

[fallcnlight]

This was different. Unusual in the tame and domestic life of the demon Kemuel, one fixated on commuting to work and then distracting himself with idle readings at home. Seeing the tall man, white-button up and ashen pants covered in dark red splatters while hands painted red, in such a state disgraced whatever slivers of angel that clung to him. It was in this instant that he understood how much of a sinner he was. A demon.

Maybe he did deserve to fall.

Kemuel stood there in the alley outside of China Town as the yellow light of a streetlamp illuminated the crumpled body from a brawl. “...went too far,” he spilled in a hushed voice, hands limp against his sides as he stared forward. There’s no going back now.

[vincent-flynn]

Vince had ended his shift at the brewing company rather early, there was still clear outside and the night was just starting to settle in. He had given it a thought about going to a club or the same bar he worked to get a good drink but then he didn't want to be somewhere noisy so maybe just the park would be a great place. With that thought in mind he went to a liquor store in the middle of nowhere and bought for himself a whiskey covered by a paper bag and then started walking towards a bench at a nearby park, he wasn't expecting any company but he wasn't against it either. Just as he had that thought someone took a seat next to him and he offered a smile. "Nice day isn't it?" He said just as a way to start some small talk while he took a sip of his bagged bottle.

[jonahlmd-blog]

      A new city meant new problems, new surroundings, new people. Sometimes the thought of that was exciting, other times it was just exhausting. Still, there was something poetic about a literal tabula rasa and Jonah intended to take full advantage - though, knowing himself, he’d still manage to just be the same asshole only with a new background. He’d always admired people who could truly start over - people who could create a new persona for themselves, a version they wished they were. But Jonah had always been authentically himself, for better or for worse. 

What was that stupid saying about putting lipstick on a pig? Well, he didn’t really remember and he didn’t think he was a pig, but the same sort of thought process applied. It was a blissful night off and as much as another evening in his apartment alone sounded thrilling, he’d decided to go out instead, get a feel for this new city of his. He’d found a mostly human bar from the smell of it and grabbed a seat. It was a pain in the ass to try to get drunk these days, but he had nothing but time and money to attempt it and it wasn’t like he had to worry about calories.  

He turned to the person next to him - had they been there this whole time? who knew - and gave a quick nod of his head in greeting. “Shot? It’s on me,” he offered. 

[restlesspirits]

Wells was standing in line, his eyes on the menu board for the coffee house but he wasn’t really focusing on it. The surgeon had just gotten off a night shift and was having trouble acting like a human this morning. His scrubs were rumpled, and even a little stained though it wasn’t obvious with what. A hand raked through curls as he moved forward in line, a sleepy shuffle moving his feet. He was so out of it that it took a moment, just a moment, to register what was happening as a patron of the store hit the floor seizing. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, immediately abandoning the line to race over, pushing through people who easily parted once they saw his scrubs. “Give them room.” The young surgeon  immediately dropped to his knees next to the shaking body and turned them on their side. Out of instinct his finger hit the button on his watch, starting to time the seizure as his gaze flicked around, finally landing on a man. 

“Give me your jacket.” He prompted, reaching his hand out. Wells didn’t wait for compliance before making a grabbing motion and prompting again in a stronger tone. “Jacket, now.” 

[fatalgames-a]

“Forget him,” says the demon as he puts himself in-between the two men who were mid-conversation, cutting off the other guy. “I’m the one you’ll want in your stocking...”