#fangsandfortune

[inkedstonearchive]

@fangsandfortune, an 18+ multimuse blog starring 

Iros Odyn, Artist Aiden Katinas, Rockstar Neegan Harris, Vampire

Carrd

[svndrenched]

@fangsandfortune from here

Hm. Timofei watched him with tired eyes, eyelids threatening to close at any moment. It's not like he hasn't fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation before, but never while standing. This accent was.. new? Old? He hadn't considered the thick, Italian accent was a farce, but it made sense. As theatrical as his tenure was.

"Stinks? That.. that is almost the very least of my worries." Even his words sounded tired, delivered in his slow, rhythmic pace, softly slurring. "I was on my way to take a nap, and as long as no one is actively fucking on it, I do not care. See that sunbeam? I need it."

For comfort reasons, mostly. But he was also looking for a quick dose of vitamin d. Satan knows when he'll actually see the sun again. No, this was about as good as it would get.

[ponyboi999]

[sunbentsky-archived]

@fangsandfortune​ / 🧡

“Why Earth, though? More interesting worlds have to exist out there.”

[a-byronic-heroine]

The world had changed a great deal in the past years. A massive war had broken out between the religion-run government's military branch, the Templars, and those they policed, the mages. It only lasted two years; the mages didn't stand a chance. They didn't have the backing of a fucking government or a religion. They were forced to surrender. All mages were to be registered with the new "Circle Protocol", a government identification program. Any mage with any sort of staff or foci were forced to turn them in or risk being sent to the Aeonar, a mage prison. Templars patrolled every street now in full combat gear, wearing more guns and ammunition than most people could spit at before all this started. They asked for identification from whoever they pleased without oversight.

Kly stood over several such dead templars at the moment. Someone ratted her out about her clinic to the government. She was wanted for war crimes during the height of the war, and she'd avoided getting tagged or caught thus far. She had an underworld clinic, offering medical services for those that couldn't get healthcare elsewhere for any reason from price to legal status. Maybe one of the patients or a competitor sold her out. Either way, she'd have to pick up and move to another location. She paused when she heard the warehouse door open and shut. More templars? She sucked the body-enhancing drug given to templars, lyrium, from the blood of the bodies piled up around her, letting it seep into her own wounds as she prepared for a fight. But...it was only a man? By himself. She sagged in relief.

"Sorry, we're closed at this location," she muttered, stepping over one of the bodies and kicking a gun away in the process. Anyone who came to see her likely wouldn't be concerned about the bodies on the ground. "Get the new address from the usual contact." She needed a drink. Maker above, her head was throbbing so hard her teeth fucking ached. Her body was screaming at her to rest. She was covered in little nicks and scratches from the scuffle. She'd probably have several bruises and a black eye by tomorrow. But she wasn't dead. That was something.

@fangsandfortune asked for a starter

[bornofbloodandwater]

❛ You can’t blame yourself. ❜ - neegan @fangsandfortune​

A halo of amber in the dark. Taking another dredging drag of her cigarette, cursing its tremble in her grasp. Shaking, and for what? Weak, unstable child, you still linger beneath mature words and practiced affectations.

Velvet couch cushions on bare thighs driving her to distraction. Too much. Even the lights were too much, enough she’d chosen to curl up in the darkness she despises.

“Who do you think I should blame?” Words half-muffled by the fist gripping the smoke, running the knuckle of her thumb over her lips again and again. A pale accusatory tone to her voice, one she should apologise for, and may when in a clearer mind. “The littered dead I left behind? The tortured ghost of my sister? Those who tore from me my only-” Caging a hand over her eyes as tears streak hot down her cheeks. A shuddering gasp shaking her chest. The fist in her lap wrenching so tight her nails draw blood.

Why she is embarrassed to let anyone glimpse her grief is beyond her. Something the siren could not rationalise, for that would mean staring her beast in the eye. Instead the tears feel as though they sear her with shame. Xiomara’s voice, typically so smooth and measured, rough with anguish.

       “Where do I lay all this rage? All my guilt. All this pain. They’re fused to me now. They are me.”

[inkedstonearchive]

Gravity, gravity heals

FANGSANDFORTUNE, an 18+ only multimuse RP Blog ft. original character NEEGAN HARRIS, Vampire, Former MI6 Spy and WWII Veteran

follows from @theofaron

[svndrenched]

@fangsandfortune liked for a ghost starter

The ratty couch towards the back of the library was the best for naps, so long as no ghouls were.. occupying it. Was it sanitary? Probably not, but a sunbeam hit it at just the right angle right now, and he didn't care. Timofei shuffled through the stacks of books in his silk pajamas and housecoat, bumping mindlessly into whatever, or whomever, stood in his path.

He was not expecting to see the former pope in the library, but here he was, no doubt annoyed at the man who just nudged him out of the way. Probably. Once again, Tim didn't really care.

"My apologies, your Eminence." He hadn't decided if he meant it yet.