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FunnyGuy male Member

STATUS: "Wake up to reality..." 5 yrs ago
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5 yrs ago
Current "Wake up to reality..."
10 yrs ago
I saw you see me see you!
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In Young Justice → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Location: Boca Catalina, Aruba
Interactions: Vincent & Erin @Daxam
Mentions: Daphne, Will, Zach


Viktor listened silently to Vincent, and at first, he was slightly disappointed that he might not be much help. It wouldn't be the end of the world, since there was still Zach but he also didn't want to go anywhere close to the shoreline. He wanted some level of discretion concerning what had occurred and Will and Daphne would be too close in his opinion.

Fortunately, Erin cut in, voicing that she was willing to offer some help. That's if Viktor could even explain his issue.

“Thanks.” Viktor nodded and looked over the food the couple had prepared for everyone. “I’ll hold off on the glizzies… The rest is quite exceptional. Two burgers, three kabobs, bell peppers, and one slice of watermelon for my first plate… Oh, and I don't mind you needing to stack my food or needing to use a second.” Viktor wouldn't say it, but he was happy to have gotten to the food before KJR for once without having a plan for being early.

“Alright, about my situation.” Viktor clasped his hands behind his back and started to pace as if he was going to start a thorough briefing with the two of them. “Well, first, I must disclose that Daph and I have been sleeping together every night for the past two weeks…” He stopped in place to give the two, especially Vincent, some time to let that piece of information sink in. Fortunately, Viktor was being very literal. Unfortunately, the couple would likely interpret his verbiage as something else. Still, his pensive expression showed he was forcing the explanation out, despite how uncomfortable he may have been

“We’re not as open with our relationship as you other couples, and I'm still uncertain as to how we’d announce a private affair like ours.” He paused again, shortly. “Anyway… moments ago, Daphne and Will were… close. They were close, and I did not like it… But I don't know if that's normal or what a boyfriend is supposed to do.” With the difficult parts out, Viktor continued. “It wasn't cheating, since I’ve seen plenty of that on the countless reality television programs I’ve watched, but it felt like… betrayal. Which doesn't make sense since I’m not harmed in the slightest. It's not envy, because Will doesn't have something I don't. I doubt he ever will. No. Pun. Intended.”

“I looked at them, and told Will not to touch her and told Daph that I would talk to her later, but I’m not sure if that was right… or wrong.” He then finally gave the two a firm nod for their insight.

In Young Justice → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Location: Boca Catalina, Aruba
Interactions: Daphne, Will, Vincent & Erin
Mentions:


Viktor had washed away his previous thoughts concerning himself and HIVE, choosing to simply swim aimlessly and take in the natural world beneath the waves. Just enjoying the moment was still a new thing for him, making him feel odd at times. Still, he was slowly beginning to see the merit of allowing oneself true freedom.

Going with the tide, Viktor eventually found his way back to the beach, more than ready to enjoy something from the grill. As he stood at the water’s edge, his eyes scanned over the scene, an instinct forever drilled into his head.

"Sorry, I shouldn't make jokes like that. Things being...the way they are."

Viktor's eyes darted to Will and Daphne, but his his usual cold expression didn't waver. Instead, he kept his focus on listening to the exchange. Why? He wasn't quite sure himself.

Viktor had never experienced a relationship like the one he shared with Daphne, but seeing her rub the sunscreen on Will forced a nearly lost feeling within him. It wasn't just anger. It was much closer to envy, except it was more sickening. Betrayal?

However, betrayal had never taken this form before Viktor. To him, it was an advantage or asset threateningly turned against you and your interests. The barrel of a gun that you believed belonged to someone you deemed an ally, a safe location rigged to be a trap, or deceit disguised as something beneficial. This was neither of those things. Whatever this was, Viktor was very sure of one thing— he did not like it.

"It's okay, don't worry about it..."

"And I think I'm good yeah, just uhm.....a lot on my mind recently"

"How about you? How have things been going lately?"

Viktor was already making his way over toward them, his ears only honing in selectively on their interaction, further souring his mood@. He fought against the natural furrowing of his eyebrows and the balling of his hands that swung stiffly at his sides, but he couldn’t rid himself of the slow-burning emotion that started at the pit of his stomach and spread as a subtle heat on the surface of his skin.

Closing in, he noticed something peculiar fall from Daphne’s hair, its many appendages wriggling about. He recognized what it was, and might have found himself puzzled as to why a crab had been in her hair, but the thought took a backseat. What was important to him now was reaching Will and Daphne so he could…

He wasn’t quite sure what he would do. In fact, it never even crossed his mind. How could one act on a feeling they weren’t even quite sure of? The only thing he had to work with was the nervousness he identified between them. As if they knew what was happening was wrong? So, was it just typical nervousness or was there guilt? Whatever the case may have been, the time to think about it had come to a close.

!!!

Daphne's squeal caused Viktor's eyes to look downward toward the potential source of her pain before his eyes landed on the sight of her clutching onto Will’s back. That feeling he was shouldering peaked in that very moment, but instead of it fueling him to take action, it unexpectedly collapsed into him. It wasn’t painful… at least that's not how he’d describe it. It was heavy— heavy enough that if it were tangible, he’d find it difficult to traverse even the damp sand on the water’s edge.

This was the moment, now. When it had finally arrived, yet, all Viktor did was offer them a brief look of acknowledgement. He didn't expect a response or explanation. He simply wished to blatantly show that he could clearly see them. Too many unknowns… His mind tried to cope by using the several years of training, conditioning, and brainwashing. Why did these things come to aid him now? Don’t show weakness… These teachings were a safety net, sure, but one interwoven with barbed wire and pin needles.

Reaching down, into the shallow water, he scooped up the tiny crab into his palms. Daphne’s assailant appeared so harmless yet it was quick to pinch at his fingers. He looked at it as if it were as intelligent as any of the beachgoers enjoying their time.

“You should be mindful in keeping your claws off Daphne.” He said with a slight smile as he let the small crustacean cling to his index finger, His eyes however, were set on Will, cold as the first instant they’d met.

“And we’ll talk later, Daph.” Viktor took a step away from them and crouched down to free the crab from his clutches. It scurried off with its claws raised for its own assurance, while Viktor took his leave as well, making his way toward the grill as he originally intended.

“Vincent.” He greeted on approach. “I know I want food, but… I think I could use some advice.” He still wasn’t quite sure if what he did was wrong, right, or enough. He lazily nodded toward Erin. “Relationship advice…” He admitted begrudgingly while not excluding Vincent's girlfriend's insight as well.

In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Mr. Deacon

Time: Day
Location: Auction Event, Sorian Park
Attire: Classic Black Tux
Interaction: Stratya, Charlotte, Prince Callum
Mention:
Mina

“Prince Callum Danrose is piss drunk,” were the only words Alexander could speak through his teeth while maintaining his feigned smile. He performed a nod of acknowledgement as the prince praised himself and Mina for their efforts in making the auction happen.

“21 on the Knight Captain!” An older gentleman of about 50 years shouted, pointing at Stratya.

“We have 21 for Stratya! 21! 21 for Stratya!”

On the bright side, the crowd does seem to be enjoying his presence… and he is here to put his mark onto his event…

“30 for Stratya! I like a woman who knows her way with a sword!” Another man shouted with a mischievous grin.

“We have 30 for Stratya! 30! 30 for Stratya!”

Alexander turned to his left, his eyes scanning over Stratya Durmand with quiet desire, It was his first time seeing the knight captain in a dress but that was not what attracted his undivided attention. You see, during his decade of being beneath his curse, he had discovered much about the human body. Such information aided him in disabling, torturing, and killing those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves as his target for violence. As subtle as it might have been to others, Alexander could not ignore the physical conditioning of the woman caught in his gaze.

“Over here! 37 for Stratya!” Another contender exclaimed.

Stratya’s duty required fitness, and that fitness generated muscle growth— increased capillary density. If this would have been eight or maybe only five years ago, he might have licked his lips while standing on this very stage. Instead, he merely flexed his fingers in right hand, a sign that he was fighting against his impulse. He wished to taste her… just once.

“50 for Stratya! She’s mine! Back off you youngins”

“We have 50 for Stratya! 50! 50 for Stratya!”

“Someone’s more popular than anticipated.” Alexander commented to Stratya.

“Oh fuck off you old bastard! 70 fucking gold!”

“We have-”

“100 gold!” This time, the older man’s declaration sat his competitors down.

“100! 100 for Stratya! 100! 100 for Stratya… Going once… Going twice… Three times! Congratulations sir, you have won a date with Stratya Durmand of Vermillion! Please provide your bid to Lady Blackwood and please do enjoy your wonderful picnic with one of the fairest of our ladies!” the announcer called.


Two bids later and Charlotte Vikena was up to be bidded on. Alexander flashed her a pearly white smile before addressing the crowd.

“Another maiden from Vermillion, and I say this with no offense to my favorite Knight Captain, but Lady Vikena is the grand jewel… Wait! Forgive me, Veirmont is on the coast, is it not? Lady Vikena the most flawless of pearls hailing from the beautiful coasts of Veirmont. She is currently the sole heiress of the Vermillion Duchie and has many talents in her repertoire. Composer of music, a taste for the fine arts, and can display the elegance, poise, and etiquette of the fine maiden she is! I don’t say this as a host, but as a man fortunate enough to have spent a pleasant outting with Lady Vikena! Intellect and wisdom beyond her years and a warm heart that will never scorch you. Lady Charlotte Vikena!” Alexander stepped aside to give her the center stage. His eyes looked toward the crowd, eying a few familiar faces he knew. He could only be envious that he couldn’t be one of them. Another one on one with Charlotte would have been… interesting to say the least. “Start her at 50.” Alexander ordered.

“Lady Vikena starting at 50 gold! 50! 50 for Lady Vikena!”

“80 gold!” A deep voiced man announced plainly and there on the edge of the stage, Alexander’s grin grew just a bit wider.

In Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Miris


Race: Changeling
Class: Part-Time Fighter
Location: Top Deck, Airship to Khorvaire
Interactions: Menzai @samreaper, Phia @princess, Envoys Mentions: Captain Cindralis,

Equipment:

Attire: beige trousers, brown tunic, and worn brown boots
Gold Balance: 3 (on hand)
Injuries: None currently
Current Persona: Minerva


“You cannot go in there. A girl died inside. There’s blood... everywhere.” Phia had informed grimly with her wide, uncanny smile and her… double-handed wave…

Now, typically, Minerva had an awful attention span when it came to anything outside a threat to her life, but something about what Phia did disturbed her far more than what she said concerning the restroom. Though the cat’s smile barely faded, her eyes focused intently on the half elf’s, completely forgetting that Menzai was right beside her. Of all the ways Menzai could hide his presence, he could never be stealthier than now, next to Phia’s bizarre attempt at returning a greeting. It wasn’t until Phia looked away that Minerva was able to take a full breath and ease herself.

I gotta keep an eye on that one. Minerva shook her body as if trying to remove the unnerving feeling off her, but instead, tiny bits of peach flung every which way and onto a few bystanders. There were a few grumbles and complaints, but she ignored them, slipping away to the nearest corner, yet not completely out of sight. If anything, it was just the closest place that gave her enough room to stretch her limbs without bumping into anyone. With no restroom, no shame, and the need to get Wendel’s stiff tunic off, she removed her slung bag and proceeded to change her clothing.

Of course, she crouched down, but only because it was easier to deal with getting things from the bag. Every now and again, she would look over her shoulder to see if anything was going on, but it appeared that time had been a luxury for a short while. The more time she felt she had, the more clothing she swapped out while she quietly mumbled about the two death threats she received from two separate women since the rough landing. Meiyu had come across as indirect with her words, but the intent for harm was just oozing off her. Phia, on the other hand, only kept Minerva guessing on how she would do it as she was still trying to decipher the double wave and that face she made. She wondered if she was, in fact, Menzai’s hired muscle— a cold, ruthless, psychotic mass murderer who casually assaulted small animals by petting them far too hard during times of leisure. The troubling thought prompted Minerva to make sure she was at least equipped with her daggers as she forwent wearing too much leather in the event she might need to swim.

“Much better!” She exclaimed as she stood and turned around just in time to catch many of the passengers gathering on the main deck. Initially, she looked around at everyone, lost and confused as to what was going on, while slowly making her way closer to those with whom she was most familiar. It was impossible, even for someone as easily distracted as her, to miss the vibrant manes of purple and pink standing side by side. From what she could gather, everyone was staring at a dashingly handsome elvish gentleman who appeared ready to make some grand announcement. “Must be giving the bad news.” She attempted to whisper to herself, but enough people she passed by heard it, which, in turn, garnered a few heads whipping her way.

That crazy bitch is at it again.

She didn’t much care for the looks; if anything, it was proof that she had dressed herself quite well. There was also the fact that she was absolutely captivated by the man who was now the center of attention.

“I wish I were standing before you with better news.”
Minerva gasped upon hearing the same voice that she had fallen in love with, which had emanated from the loudspeakers earlier.

“It’s him!” She whispered loudly. Don’t even ask how the hell someone does that; I’m just narrating what happened.

“We’ve suffered a loss today. Many good people…crew, civilians, and comrades…gave their lives in the battle above as well as the descent…” At this point, it didn’t quite matter what Captain Cidralis was saying, just as long as he was speaking, Minerva kept her eyes glued to him. As wary as she had been of Phia, she found herself nodding fervently alongside her as the captain continued.

“...but so is our chance to face it together.”

“Yes,” she replied eagerly as if the words were spoken between just the two of them during a romantic outing on the salty, sun-kissed shores of the Lhazaar Principalities. Minerva yearned for more of his voice, but instead, there was a brief quiet followed by a slow clap from a man who suddenly appeared out of thin air. Phia had clapped with the mysterious fellow, which only reminded Minerva of the treacherous double-handed wave. She took a short step away from Phia without so much as looking in her direction. Her eyes were now glued to the newcomer, whom she found a tad less charming than the captain, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like his flair. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, as she was sure she had never met this man in her life. What was it then?

Before he could even hint at what he was, Minerva was already quite sure of it. Just knowing he was a pirate caused her expression to shift. The bright-eyed woman who might as well have been gawking at Captain Cidralis now held an expression of poise.

“The envoys are here.” Phia repeated what the pirate had announced as two others appeared in the same mystical manner. Minerva gave Phia a side-long glance of curiosity, silently determining how her new pair of acquaintances would fare here in the Lhazaar Principalities.

“This may require stealth mode, sweet Phia. Stay close with Minerva. I will be back shortly.”

Minerva quickly averted her gaze, barely blushing at the perceived implications of Menzai’s statement. Is he…trusting me? As the thought sunk in, her unseen expression twisted into something of mischief. There was a glint in her eyes accompanied by the grin of the sleaziest of opportunists; however, when her eyes returned to Menzai’s, she wore the face of a saint. She even threw in a wink so he could wash that hint of worry on his face.

Now it was just her and Phia…

Yes, her and Phia…

Her and… Phia…

The twisted image of Phia performing that greeting of hers flashed within her mind, causing the rising of the hairs on the nape of her neck. He said “shortly,” so it should be a short time. Yup, short, like ten seconds or ten minutes… Ten minutes? She side-eyed Phia again, this time out of caution.

Dividing her attention between the half-elf and Captain Beckett’s grandstanding proved to be difficult for the shifter, resulting in her only making out about half of what the pirate had said to the crowd. She did have a rough idea of what he might have been saying, given the situation. Something like “I am a pirate, argh. Me friends and I are dangerous, argh. We are here to pillage all of your skin and hair care products, arrrrgh.”

Fortunately for her, her glorious king, Captain Cidralis’ voice broke her attention away from her closest lingering threat, Sweet Phia of the Uncanny Double-Wave.

“You’re not taking my passengers anywhere… I’ll go, I’ll meet your Prince.” His bravery was not overlooked, but Minerva was sure it meant nothing to these types. This type of scenario was their bread and butter, and if they wanted the captain of this vessel, they would have led with that. They already knew what they wanted to happen the moment they spotted the wounded transport craft careening from the sky and into their domain of salt, ocean, and cutthroats.

The pistol pointed at the captain’s head caused her to gulp as she anticipated the worst for him, but instead, he was taken down by the more brutish of the three pirates. She had winced from the cracking sound and shook her head solemnly, wishing the man didn’t have to endure such a thing.

“See? Just as I said. You’ll be staying here with your ship. And now you’re in no condition to travel.” Captain Beckett turned his attention back to the crowd.

“Now then… The boss beckons. So…” He spread his arms wide, inviting the silence to stretch into dread. “Who wants to meet a real Pirate Prince, eh?” As far as first impressions went, Minerva wasn’t the biggest fan of Captain Beckett, but she also couldn’t knock him for being exactly what he claimed to be. What was truly important to Minerva now was taking the reins of the circumstance rather than allowing someone else to dictate what happened next.

“Sweet Phia.” Minerva leaned forward and faced her for once with a toothy grin. Now, a normal person might have asked a few questions or led by stating some kind of plan with intentions and such. A worse person might use silence as compliance, but all Minerva did was wait for a measly second of eye contact before she grasped Phia’s wrist and raised it toward the sky.

“Yo ho ho! Ahoy!! Peaches Minerva speaks!” Minerva bellowed raspily, trying her best piratey impression. As funny as it might seem, Minerva was being deadly serious about this. “Me and me bestest matey, Sweet Phia…” Minerva let the silence hang dramatically. She felt that she had to match Captain Beckett’s energy to communicate on even ground with him. “We will parley with your Pirate Prince!” She held a confident look about her, releasing Phia and stepping forward to the parting crowd that wanted no business with what she was doing. “But first, we wanna ask you somethin’?" She scowled at the pirate captain before giving Phia a sharp poke to her arm. “Okay, Sweet Phia, ask him something. We need to show them we mean business.” She urged with a whisper.
In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Violet & Alexander

Time: FLASHBACK / 3 a.m. (after the banquet)
Location: Deacon Residence


Crimson eyes watched the moonlight flicker across the ceiling like ghosts dancing just out of reach. Violet hadn’t moved in hours. She just lay there, still as death, staring upward while her thoughts refused to quiet. Everything from the night clawed at her. Roman’s bitterness and lack of care. Wulric’s calm presence and accusations. The Queen being ushered out from the hall. But somehow it all kept circling back to one thing.

Alexander.

Roman’s words should have gutted her. They would have once, and maybe they did for a short time. The way he looked at her, as if she were something rotten. The things he said. She should be broken, consumed with grief or fury or shame. But she wasn’t. That version of herself, the girl who loved Roman, who bled when he pulled away, that girl was fading. Like smoke through her fingers. She felt the break happen. A clean snap, as if someone had cut the last fraying rope that tethered her to who she used to be. It didn’t even hurt.

Now, it just felt like watching someone else’s story.

She rolled onto her side, letting her hair spill over her face. The pillow was cold beneath her cheek. Her eyes burned, but there were no tears. Just this pressure in her chest that wouldn’t leave her alone. It wasn’t about Roman.

She couldn’t shake the feeling. It had been buried for too long, ignored, denied, but it was always there, somewhere quiet, waiting. And now that the noise had gone, now that the grief was dead and her heart felt colder, the truth was clearer than ever. She was worried. Genuinely, completely worried about him. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t understand it. But it was there, gnawing at her insides.

Why wasn’t he at the table when she returned? Why would a man like Alexander, someone so deeply woven into that world, not show for such a finale? Maybe he and Lorenzo had more to discuss than she anticipated? Yet he didn’t have his ring.

Something was wrong. Off… or maybe she was just crazy. Worried over nothing.

She slid from the bed in one smooth motion and moved with purpose. The black gown she slipped into clung to her skin, heavy silk whispering against her. She wrapped a dark robe around her waist and tied it tight, like armor. She didn’t bother with her hair. It hung loose around her shoulders, wild and unbrushed.

The halls of the estate were quiet, empty. One of her father’s drivers was out front, dozing near the stables. The man startled as she approached but didn’t question her. There were always hands working through the night. No one stopped the master's daughter when she moved like this with purpose and silence.

The ride was quiet. The streets barely stirred. Fog hung low, curling around the carriage wheels like fingers trying to hold her back.

When the Deacon estate finally appeared, something cold settled in her gut.

The carriage rolled to a stop.

She stepped down before the driver could offer a hand, her boots sinking into the damp earth. Her pulse thudded in her ears, too loud. She moved quickly, eyes locked on the tall, dark door ahead. She stopped just before it, lifting her hand, and froze

What the hell was she doing?

Calling on a married man in the dead of night. It was madness. It was scandal. Her breath hitched. She turned her head slightly, casting a look over her shoulder. The driver sat slouched in the front seat, yawning into his sleeve.

Crimson eyes looked back at the door. Her fingers curled, then fell away.

A loud and deep croak announced her arrival, almost signalling that it was far too late to turn back now. A fluttering of wings followed before another croak sounded in the night sky as pitch black eyes peered down at her. The dark, winged figure in the trees went still, making it harder to see, but the moonlight gave away its placement.

Within the estate, blankets ruffled, sighs were exchanged, but there was movement agreeable to Violet’s sudden visit. Before she could even set upon the front door, the ground floor of the house began to light with a soft orange glow.

A third croak sounded, sharp and demanding. Crimson eyes looked up at the cawing creature in the tree before her attention was pulled by his voice.

“Scarlet.” The calm and steady voice of Alexander came from the figure above before the front door creaked open, left only ajar.

She took a small step back as her shoulders relaxed, his voice in its calmness offering her the sense of relief she needed. She stood silent, struggling to find the words. Everything she managed to think of all came back to how foolish she was being.

“You didn’t return to your seat. At dinner.” her voice fell to almost a whisper. “I-” she paused “I wanted to make sure you are safe,” her crimson eyes scanned the door as she caught her breath “It’s late, I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

There were seconds of silence from the half-opened door. Alexander was waiting for something. A fourth croak sounded before he said a word.

Looking back to the sleeping carriage driver, Violet turned back to Alexander glancing up once more at the raven with a furrowed brow.

“You had help in doing that. Come in.” His tone lacked the flavor of smugness it typically carried. He sounded like any other man suddenly woken from his sleep. The door opened slightly, revealing Alexander wearing dark-colored sleepwear.

She followed the invitation, taking a small step inside, brushing up against him until she stood beside him, her hands clasping together in front of her. She looked around nervously, but there was no one else in her sight.

“New pet?” she asked, half joking about the raven. Considering Prince Callum seemed to manage himself a pet monkey, a raven wasn’t too far off. Her crimson eyes scanned Alexander’s face, only noting his sleepy appearance.

“No. And… She doesn’t appreciate that term,” Alexander said as he shut the door and locked it. His eyes set upon hers, staring into them as if they had some answer they owed him. “Sit… or stand, whichever you prefer.” He gave her arm a comforting squeeze as he walked from the small foyer to the small seating area by the front window. He chose the sofa chair, his soft, cushy throne, to sit in.

Following behind him, Violet sat in the chair beside him resting against the arm of the chair. Her eyes watched him for a moment as if attempting to convenience herself that he was okay. “I apologise for waking you. I realize how this could look but I needed to know you were okay. Are you okay?”

He looked away from her, toward an empty space on the wall. His mind was a tad hazy at the moment and he was still trying to digest the events that had transpired at the banquet. Now this? He was wary of Violet's sudden warmth toward him, and so he did not allow it to disarm him.

“I am... What? Are you afraid of losing your employment?” Her being here and now was so out of place to him, especially with how their interactions had gone as of late.

She blinked leaning back in the chair as the flutter in her chest tightened instead of eased. Her eyes fell for a moment, the red orbs attempting to search her thoughts. She knew the events of the evening had been jarring especially with Roman but…

“My employment…” she echoed his words as if trying to remind herself what he had said. Her eyes flicked up to look at him with their intense crimson stare but all she could see was the mask he once wore with her. something shifted

“I-” I’m afraid of losing you. she thought almost instantly, the words in the front of her mind. She looked away from him “You hurt me.” her words were dry. “but you showed me the truth.” Her eyes looked back at him she pulled in a breath as her face softened. “To answer your question Alexander.” Her crimson eyes focused onto his “No, I'm not afraid of losing my employment. I am afraid of losing you.”

His eyes darted to hers, finding it hard to believe her, even as she spoke in earnest. His lips parted to deny or challenge her statement but he would be a fool to ignore how much her appearance matched her concern for him. What is this? Violet sat there, not as the refined and sharp young woman he’d become familiar with. No, she was not that pristine blade at this moment. Instead, she sat here and now, hair a mess, attire lazily put together, eyes tired, and a pleading in her face that could not be easily faked.

“So you, Violet Damien, came to me in the middle of the night, by carriage, to see if I was… okay?” He asked the question more for himself to lay out the details, raising an eyebrow as he did.

Shifting slightly in the chair she suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. “Yes.” The word left her like a confession. Her hand moved instinctively to her chest, just above the old scar, as if to ease the ache there.

“I… I appreciate that.” He averted his gaze. “Truly, but… How do I put this?” Alexander gave himself only a second to think of how to dress his words. “You are the one bleeding, Scarlett… Bruised, disheveled, and behaving rather strangely, too. So I ask, are you okay?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

She blinked, slowly, as if the question had taken longer to reach her. Am I okay? The words echoed dully in her mind, bouncing around a space that felt too full and too empty all at once.

Had she even stopped to ask herself that?

No. There hadn’t been time. No space to breathe, let alone feel. Alexander had been all she could think about… the gnawing worry of his absence, the awful quiet at the table, Wulfric’s cold words whispering of bodies vanishing and reappearing like ghosts. And then there was Cassius.

Her fingers twitched faintly in her lap.

The attack had been a blur. Cassius’s blood— it was warm, thick, and still stained the folds of her dress when she stumbled home. The taste of blood was still warm in her mouth.

And now, sitting in front of him, himself here, whole, asking if she was alright…something inside her stuttered.

She had wanted to find Alexander. No; needed to. Needed to see him with her own eyes. Needed to hear his voice, make sure it was real. That he was still real. That he was safe.

But now that he was here, the walls she had braced herself with buckled. Everything came crashing in at once the fear, relief, grief, the guilt she didn’t yet have words for. And underneath it all, the gnawing truth she could no longer ignore: she wasn’t okay. Not even close.

Her head shook slowly, absently, crimson eyes locked on him like she was trying to tether herself to something.

“I dont know…” she answered honestly. She shifted slightly in the chair, the light from the moon shining through the window revealing just how bruised and beaten her face and shoulders were. Her face paled slightly as her shoulders dropped.

“What happened?” He lazily gestured his hand toward her. “After the banquet. I assume that's where those fresh marks came from.” Alexander glanced to his right, expecting there to be tea or a glass of wine for him to sip as he listened. His eyes flicked to hers— the vibrant irises that entranced him the first moment he caught sight of them.

“So much blood…” The words slipped out before Violet even realized she was speaking. Her voice was thin, dazed. Her eyes didn’t meet his. They were fixed somewhere over his shoulder, locked on a memory that hadn’t kept playing.

She sat stiffly, hands in her lap, streaked with faint lines of red. Her chest rose and fell too fast, shallow breaths that barely reached her lungs. The smell of it was still in her nose, thick and metallic. Warm. It clung to her, soaked into her skin, and every breath she took brought it back.

Her lips parted slightly, and the taste of it stirred something deep. Not fear. Hunger. Raw and unwelcome.

Her fangs appeared without her noticing.

The way it splattered against stone, the warmth of it spraying her cheek, the sound it made when it hit Cassius’s skin.

Her jaw tensed.

Then the pressure on her tongue. A sharp reminder. Her eyes blinked once, slow and startled. Her hand lifted quickly to her mouth, fingers covering her lips as if she could push the feeling back down, hide the change, stop the desire.

For a moment, she just stayed like that. Holding herself still. Trying not to breathe too deeply. Trying to focus on the coolness of the air rather than the heat curling inside her.

Another breath. A blink. Then she lowered her hand carefully, folding it in her lap, her fingers faintly trembling.

“Cassius and I…” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, eyes still slightly unfocused. “We were just going to get a drink after the banquette”

She shook her head once, slow, like she was trying to make sense of it too. “We didn’t see them coming. They were just there, like they’d been waiting. They looked so pleased to find us.”

A pause. Her fingers clenched tighter.

“They called us Damiens. Someone commanded them to kill us.” Alexander couldn't help but lean forward ever so slightly, his eyes hungry with curiosity as she went on.

She blinked again, and this time her eyes met his. She looked like she was trying to hold herself together by sheer will. Barely holding back the shake in her hands, the pull of her instincts, the ache in her throat.

“It was over so fast. But there was so much blood…”

“And you don't know who they were? Interesting… and troubling as well.” He leaned back into place as he savored the information. “Something to drink?” He asked, presenting an open hand. It was an invitation to keep her here longer shrouded by hospitality.

Violet nodded softly “Whiskey, double…if you have some.” she offered him a soft smile before continuing. Alexander stood from his chair but hadn't walked just yet. “And I have no idea, they didn’t really say much besides knowing who we were. They stabbed Cassius…We managed to kill a few of them, but one got away,” she said softly. “I leaned over his body… his blood was all over my hands…I almost gave in, but managed to stop myself. I managed to get him back home just in time; they rushed him off, but I don't know much else yet.”

“They?” He started walking, digesting the details as he made his way to his very neglected liquor cabinet. It was fully stocked with so many bottled spirits unopened. “I’m also quite impressed. The Violet of a few days ago would have buried her face into her own brother.” As he prepared Violet's glass first, he grinned. Finally, some form of smile. “It calls for a light celebration. Whiskey… triple for Lady Damien. And for Mr. Deacon… hmm. He'll take wine… red or white?” His smile held a bit of edge as the choice made him remember the art gallery. “White.”

After pouring into the second glass and securing the bottles, Alexander returned to the lounge area. With an outreached hand, he offered Violet her glass of whiskey. She accepted the glass with a faint, grateful smile. Lifting it to her mouth, she didn’t pause to savour the scent or the moment; she simply tipped it back. It wasn’t a polite sip; it was a bold, unapologetic swallow, nearly downing a quarter in one smooth motion. Her face contorted slightly as she felt the burn down her chest.

“So your father's men took him away?” He said as he took his seat.

She blinked, still recovering from the whiskey, taking a moment before answering “Yes, he keeps the house rather guarded, so we have staff around most times. I don't know where they took him, though. He wasn’t looking good.” She felt the sudden rush that the whiskey gave as it assisted in settling her nerves.

“As much as I’d like to go confront your father about this, I think it can wait until we formally meet for dinner. Gives me something to ask him, but…” Alexander sighed. “This does make the arrangement of me being your employer a bit difficult. Your father will want you safe at home, and I don't think I could fight against that notion… I'm no father, but keeping those precious to you safe comes second to nothing. It's a shame, really, after you seemingly gained a better handle on your blood hunger.” A sipped the wine gracefully, shutting his eyes to focus on the flavor alone. “I would very much like to find your true potential.”

Her jaw tensed.

“So that’s it, then?” she said quietly, lifting her eyes to his.

“I finally start to feel…like myself. Like I’m more than just something broken that needs fixing. And now it’s all going to be stripped away because of him?” Her voice didn’t rise. If anything, her voice grew softer, laced with a restrained heat that curled beneath the surface.

“You said you wanted to find my true potential, well, so do I, and I won't be letting anyone stop that.” she continued, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “They made their choices with my life, deciding to give me this curse. They don’t get to decide anymore. I won't let anyone else tell me what I can and cannot do.” She took a sip from her glass.

“I want to be more.”

“No need to fret, Scarlett. It's just a possibility given tonight's events, and I don't think anyone could stop you if you rebelled.” He glanced at his glass, smiling pleasantly at its existence.

“But an attack like this is no small matter. They called your family name before they struck, and judging from what you said about your brother's state of being, they wanted you both in the cemetery by next week. Dead.” He raised his glass to take a sip. “Put yourself in your father's shoes. Only then can you discover the means of manipulating him into getting what you desire.” He took a careful sip from his glass, winking at her as he did.

She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips, the crystal cool against her skin, and held his gaze for a beat too long. A faint smile ghosted across her lips, unreadable, like a secret she wasn't ready to share.

“I want to learn…” she said abruptly, the words cutting clean through the quiet air between them. Alexander raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by her drive.

Her voice was calm, almost casual, but her eyes betrayed the weight behind them, a glint of curiosity sharpened by something darker. As she spoke, she turned slightly, gaze dipping away from him to the whiskey in her glass.

Then, without breaking the moment, she took a sip, letting the taste linger on her tongue. Only once the glass lowered back against her lips did her eyes rise again, flicking up to meet his.

“I want to learn how you controlled Cassius, how to get into people's heads…” She looked at him, attempting to read his reaction. “How would you place yourself in that situation to steer him where you want?”

“Controlled Cassius?” Alexander averted his gaze from her. Of course he was aware of what she spoke of but how had she known? “You need to tell me how you know about that.” He said quickly, urgently even. Had he been so obvious?
She offered a faint smile, her gaze drifting for a moment as if recalling the past.

“I didn’t know for sure... but I had my suspicions.” Her voice was soft, tinged with memory. “After everything happened, my mother prepared my room. She didn’t say much, but she filled it with books, some old, some new, all of them circling the same theme: the curse. There were other things too, tucked between the pages. Scraps of notes, names, dates, warnings. I devoured them.”

She paused to draw in a breath, her fingers brushing the rim of her glass.

“Over the years, I read everything I could get my hands on. Fiction, folklore, journals. And despite the fantastical tones, so many of the stories mirrored pieces of my own life now. Too many to ignore.” She gave a small, almost reluctant shrug. “Then there’s Cassius. I don’t know him well, but he’s not exactly subtle. That man wears his rage like armor. He would’ve gone down fighting, clawing. But Alexander Deacon? He calmed him. That alone said a lot.” Alexander smirked slightly with pride. He couldn't help it.

She lifted her glass and took a measured sip of whiskey, letting the warmth linger on her tongue before she set it gently on the table beside her.

“And... I watch you.” The confession slipped out with quiet finality, her eyes meeting his. “I’m not ignorant. I grew up watching the world from a windowsill, with nothing to do but study people. I may not know all the details of my father’s dealings, but I grew up in a house built on secrets, around a man who could coax confessions with nothing but a smile.” Her expression softened; it was wary, but honest.

“So, I didn’t expect you to tell me the truth. I figured you’d deny it. But you didn’t. So now I know you did something… what exactly? That in truth I don’t know.” her eyes fell to his hand “You also seemed to have lost your ring, or perhaps you're becoming more comfortable without it? Whatever the answer is, I know that you simply can’t help but cause chaos. That is why you decided to throw my business on the table in front of everyone. Maybe there is a plan there, maybe everything you do is for a reason, or maybe you simply want to watch people squirm.” Her crimson eyes flicked up to look at him as his eyes were now fixated on his empty left hand. “So I simply used the same trick my father has used many times before, one that I’ve seen you use in your way.”

“Bravo, Scarlett. You've read me like one of your books.” He chuckled lightly. “Good on you for being perceptive, but I have eyes too.” His smile twisted into something wicked as he locked eyes with her, as if he knew a secret that she thought buried and forgotten. “You’re close about my reasoning for putting that private moment between you and Roman out in the open. There's a tad bit more… Alliances. Everyone needs them. I’ve found over the years that those who work by themselves will eventually find themselves destroyed by their adversaries. But, any two parties holding hands in front of their enemy won't cut it. They must keep themselves together, even at their weakest, when all eyes are staring right at their vulnerable point.” He swished the wine left in his glass for shameless dramatic flair. “You and Roman—the raven and the bear, simply failed at keeping whatever you had, together.” He scoffed. “But I must be honest, I did want to see that man squirm. Perhaps I really do need that ring of mine.” He shrugged, not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“...I see” she said softly, her fingers traced some bruising along her arm that had formed into dark patches in the shape of a hand. She reached down and grabbed her glass from the table, finishing it off before placing it down. “I can’t quite figure out why? What did this “Alliance,” as you call it, threaten for you? Was it Roman? You said you wanted to watch him squirm, so was all of that just for enjoyment? Am I really that disposable to you? You just threw me to the wolves so you can watch it burn? ”

Her crimson eyes looked at him, searching for answers. Her voice held little emotion, the alcohol helping with her nerves as she settled back into the seat. “Cut the bullshit, Alexander. I am growing rather tired of being lied to, manipulated, and used. I want to know the truth. ”

His eyebrows rose, not with surprise, but amusement. He set his glass down in a similar fashion to Violet.

“Hate my poetry, do you? Okay, no games, no similes, no metaphors… just the raw truth, Scarlett.” He smiled at her. “One question first, before I begin. Are truly upset with how things transpired at the banquet? Hm?”

“No.” She let her words breathe for a moment before continuing.

“What I am upset about is how easily I am thrown around by those I keep putting my trust into. Roman is obvious, I don’t trust Fritz, I don’t trust my own family, and now I question you, Alexander. Is this our future too? Using me like a chess piece on your board.” She took in a breath “I came to your home in the middle of the night because I was afraid something happened to you. Just…”

“Just tell me the fucking truth.” She nearly shot up from her chair as she looked down at him, frustrated.

“Hush. I was getting to that part. The truth of why I did what I did.” Alexander still seemed to fancy the conversation a little more than he should. “You… you think I see you as some lowly expendable pawn, or perhaps you make it so you see yourself that way, but you seem to forget that you were playing the game against me. Don't deny it.” His smile vanished, replaced by lips pressed together in a neat line. Violet’s crimson eyes watched his expression change as she continued to stand infront of him. “You whine now, but the truth is, you're just a sore fucking loser. You played your hand at the Art Gallery. Heavy-handedly at that. You couldn't just walk beside Roman; you had to flaunt him in front of me like he was my equal, or worse yet, my superior. You know… I’ve been wondering all day what you may have told him about me. Maybe how I struck you in the gut before I fed your thirst for the first time, or that I am half the monster I truly am.” He scoffed but did not relent there.

“I could have let it go, especially with how I could see things wouldn't last between you. His eyes wandered to every woman but the beauty beside him, while you just stomached it in disgust with the lowest of self-esteem. A fucking circus act, that was. And I was truly going to let it go. I really was going to let it go, Scarlett.” Alexander reached out to grab his glass, directing his voice to it as he continued “She's young, Alexander. She doesn't understand what she's doing. Hurting Roman will hurt her as well. She’s just trying to show she doesn’t need to depend on you. Hmph.” He set the glass back down, and his eyes met hers, filled with intensity, crimson orbs stared back.. “I set aside the playing board, went to the banquet, and guess who was still playing fucking game? Answer: Your brutish partner. Perhaps it was his turn to go, and he didn’t realize that we were supposed to pack it up. I might have spared him if not for that pigmentless prince, but in truth, Roman had it coming… and you deserved the retaliation.” A heavy fluttering of announced the presence of th raven right outside the window beside them. Violet's eyes turned to look at the bird as she landed.

”Violet Damien, know this.” Red eyes returned to his as he spoke her name. ” If you posture yourself against me, I will strike you down like anyone else. I spared you tonight. Those wolves you speak of. The wolves I threw you to. There was no barking, or biting, or even sniffing at your fucking nethers. You were simply embarrassed. Simple as that. The truth.”

She soaked in his words, standing in front of him like a child who had been disciplined.

Alexander’s words still echoed when the hush settled around them. The air turned sharp, too still, too tense. But Violet didn’t flinch. She stood in front of him, gaze locked on the space where his ring used to be. That absence spoke louder than anything else he’d said.

He wasn’t hiding anymore. And neither was she.

She leaned in slowly towards him. One hand came to rest on the arm of his chair; it was light, poised, and deliberate. The other followed, fingers curling along the carved edge of the wood as she drew herself close, her face inches from his.

The flickering candlelight from the side table danced in her crimson eyes as they mimicked the color of blood.

“You're right,” she said softly, lips brushing the word like a feather. “I played my hand. I lost. But what a reaction it drew out of you, Alexander.”

Her voice was low, honeyed, but barbed beneath the sweetness.

“You speak of strategy. Of alliances. Of the cost of squirming. But for someone so sure of himself…” Her head tilted slightly, her breath brushing his cheek, “...you seem absolutely terrified of what I might become if I stop pretending to be beneath you.”

Her fingers tightened slightly on the armrest.

“Is that what this is? Strip me down, humiliate me, remind me that I’m yours to command because the idea of me standing beside you, not behind you, scares the hell out of you?”

“You call me a sore loser. But tell me…” she leaned in closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear, voice like a blade in velvet, “...what does it make you, if the only way you can win… is by making sure I’m too afraid to keep playing your game?”

Then she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again, unblinking, searching until she finally said.

“I won’t posture again”. She took a small breath, “You walk this path alone, Alexander.” Her eyes watched him “But I can’t follow if you keep trying to make me kneel. I don’t want to be alone in this; you asked me to walk beside you, so let me.”

“Teach me.” The words came gently, like an offering, as she pulled back slightly, still leaning against the chair. “Not because I want to be you. But because I want to understand you. To survive beside you. To not be alone through this.”

“Alone?” He repeated the word softly as if intimate with its very existence. He tasted and savored it as if it were a succulent meal that had been lost to him for many years. “That’s your fear, isn’t it?” He nodded his head, placing the final jigsaw piece into place. “You finally see it.” A light sigh escaped his lips. “Still slightly misguided, but you understand that bleak feeling now.” The corners of his mouth upturned, but not wickedly. It was more like a proud father watching their child figure out their way around a problem.

Her lips parted slightly, not in surprise, but in realization. The silence between them wasn’t avoidance; it was deliberate. A quiet truth wrapped up in the way he watched her, the way he didn’t push her away when she got too close to him.

Her eyes widened slightly as it continued to dawn on her.

“That’s the real curse, isn’t it?” She said, quieter now as her tone dropped. “Not the thirst, not the hunger, but being too afraid to let anyone close enough to see how much it has affected you.”

Her eyes widened slightly as it continued to dawn on her. “You didn’t ask me to trust you. You made me feel what it costs not to.”

And as her eyes locked with his once more, she was simply someone who finally saw him, and, perhaps more dangerously, wanted to stay. She reached for his glass of wine, stood up, and shot back the last that was in his glass before walking towards his bar. She took the open bottle and poured another glass before returning to his side.

“Congratulations...” She said softly, extending the glass of wine to him. As his hands took it, he shrugged with that proud grin still on his face.

“To you. Consider yourself taught.” He took a short sip, adding, “Took you long enough.”

Sitting back in the chair across from him, Violet watched his grin continue to grow.

“I wish I could join you in celebrating, but … I feel like I’m attending my funeral right now. ” Her eyes fell towards the ground as her back rested against the chair “I was just hoping I could hold onto it for a moment longer. Maybe then it wasn’t really real.” She took in a short breath “But it is real.”

“It is. Indeed, it is,” Alexander nodded as Violet let out a soft sigh. “But you’re looking at it in the wrong light, Scarlett. You. You’re not very comfortable with change, with transformation.” He flexed his left hand almost instinctively. “Finding out you’re a vampire… I can admit, it’s quite the frightening thing, but this. Scarlett, this is just you growing into yourself. It’s not the blood that was shed or consumed. It’s not the vampirism at all. It’s just… Violet.” His smile left him. “In time, over the years under the curse, however, you will change. It’s…” He inhaled and exhaled deeply as something within him stirred. “It’s more frightening than realizing the sun prickles at your skin or realizing nothing but blood truly satiates your appetite. It’s a slow, creeping transformation that no one but those who know you will notice. You’ll become colder and crueler until you are nothing but a beast without passion and only one thing on your mind. Blood. And then you die as the monster, starved or slain, whichever comes first.” Then he held out his hand to Violet, beckoning her to him.

Pushing up from her chair, she moved towards him, her hand reaching out to his outstretched fingers. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t feel like she needed to. The cold reality of her future was staring back at her from his gaze. Her fingers tangled with his as she relaxed her hand. “Is that what you are?” she asked softly while his thumb massaged her hand. “A beast without passion?” Her crimson eyes flicked up to look at his as if waiting to see it.

“Hmm, I guess I’ve deteriorated even further than I realized if you have to ask.” He chuckled darkly before he smiled. “But no.” He shook his head. “I guess I must have made myself out to be quite the monster… Good. That means, I can ward off whom I need to and still indulge. I’ll never let myself become something like that. Lianna will ensure that, even if it means my end. And don't ask me how I think she plans to accomplish that in her current state,” he said taking a long sip from his wine glass.

Violet’s grip on his hand tightened, not desperately, but with quiet urgency. Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of his words echoed through her. The idea of “the end” had seemed abstract before a worry that seemed foreign to her vampire blood.

But this made it feel real.

Her crimson eyes searched his face with a new intensity, trying to peer past the layers he hid behind. His calmness frightened her more than rage ever could. He had thought about this. He had accepted it.

And suddenly, that terrified her.

Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

“When you speak like that… like your end is already written… I can’t pretend it doesn’t frighten me.” She took a long breath, her hand still holding tightly onto his. “I don't see you as a beast…” she continued “I asked because I was surprised that you would have described yourself as one.”

“Perhaps after a decade we can revisit this topic and see if your opinion has changed. I can only slow the change, but eventually, it will happen if there's a lack of intervention… and in time, it may happen to you as well. Who knows, maybe you'll find the cure in your tenure with the curse.” He kept his calm, but his expression was nearly melancholy.

“You may believe you’re destined to become something monstrous, Alexander, but I’ve known true monsters. And none of them have held my hand like this.” Her eyes fell to their hands “None of them speak of cures or wanting to fix themselves, and none of them worry about who they’ll become.”

A breath. She looked down briefly, then back up with a flicker of something softer in her eyes. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“If you start to lose yourself… I’ll remind you of who you are. And if I begin to change, if it reaches me too, then we face it together. But I won’t walk away just because you're afraid of what you might come. You’re still here…and so am I…” She left him quiet for a moment as he digested what she had said. Questions and even doubt tugged him away from sincerity of Violet’s words. Whether she was right or wrong in what she proposed, to her, these words that slipped from her lips were true. These words and ideas of hers came from something nearly lost by Alexander. A feeling he considered weak and fruitless, yet it was there, dangling as a potential lifeline to happiness… Hope. It was the undying rebel of certainty. A feeling, once lost, would leave a person to die without old age, wounds, or sickness

“Scarlett, you— you speak as if you love me.” He admitted while finally looking at her with the smallest of smiles. He was attempting to tease her in the somber moment, but the look in her eyes met his playful jest with the deepest conviction.

Violet’s voice wavered slightly as she looked at him, her hand still curled around his, but her grip loosened. Not in retreat, but in vulnerability. Her eyes, usually guarded by wit or strength, were bare now, open in a way that cost her something.

“Would it be so wrong if I did?” she asked, barely above a whisper. A beat. Her gaze dropped, then lifted again, bolder this time, tinged with sorrow, but not shame.

“Would it be so wrong if someone actually cared?”These weren’t words meant to bind him or corner him; they were confessions. Raw, unadorned, and trembling with honesty.

“Because I do. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s reckless or foolish or hopeless.” Her fingers tightened slightly around his. “But I care. And I’m tired of pretending like that’s something I should apologize for.”

Silence settled between them. Not cold or condemning, but still and aching like the air itself had paused to let the moment live.

And then, softly she said “You don’t have to accept it or return it. I just needed to say it out loud… before I lose the chance too…”

“Scarlett, easy,” he said softly while setting his glass of wine down so he could cup her hand in his. “I accept it.” He nodded. “And I care about you as well… Tonight is… just the first time I’ve seen you be like this; the first time I’ve heard you speak like this to me.” He took a breath and looked away from her, silently deciding something for them both. “I think we both need rest.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, searching his face as if trying to hold onto whatever softness had just passed between them. Then, slowly, she nodded, her lips curling into a faint, almost wistful smile.

Her gaze dropped to his hand as it cupped hers, warm, reassuring, but also final somehow.

“Yes... of course,” she said gently. “It is rather late.” The words were agreeable, but there was a slight pause before she said them. A small hesitation that betrayed the reluctance underneath. She didn’t want to pull away, not just yet, but she would.

Violet gave his hand a soft squeeze before letting go, her smile still faintly on her lips, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore.“Thank you for entertaining my concern. You could have dismissed it, laughed it off, shut the door… but you didn’t.”

“Of course not. I desire the best for you, Scarlett. I’ll do what I must to achieve that; however, in the end, your decisions are your own.” He stood up from his seat to walk Violet to the door. “As for your father’s possible concerns. Compulsion is not necessary to sway him. Safety and protection for his family are his priorities, but he also values the political power he holds. Use those motivations to your advantage successfully, and I promise to show you how to compel.” He opened his front door to the moonlit darkness of the night.

She paused in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the frame as the cold night spilled in. The wind touched her skin, sharp and familiar. For a moment, she didn’t move. Just stood there, breathing in the dark, the weight of what passed between them settling on her ribs like a second heartbeat.

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

“I won’t let you down…” she said, not loud, but clear. A promise.

She stepped out into the dark. Her figure was nearly swallowed up by it, the shadows tugging at her like old friends. But she stopped. Halfway down the steps, she turned just enough to look back. Over her shoulder, that same steady gaze found his unblinking, impossible to ignore. The haunting crimson eyes stared back up at him.

“Have a good evening, Alexander…” She lowered her head slightly before turning her back to him as she walked towards the carriage.

“Evening?” Alexander whispered with a smile as he watched her enter the carriage. “You as well, Scarlett. You as well.” He said before his eyes glanced leftward toward his feathered companion. “Follow her.” The raven tilted its head to the side as it remained perched on the window sill. “Please.” The added word gave the beast all it needed to take flight with an eccentric croak.

Eri flew high, trailing behind the carriage that would return Violet to her home, enjoying every moment of this developing tryst between two cursed souls.
In ✨Beyond The Veil✨ → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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Location: The Red Note • Time: Saturday Night

Interactions: • Mentions:

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Honey brown irises peered down through red-tinted sunglasses at the scene below. From up high on the private upper deck of the Red Note, a club that served vampires at the upper echelons of wealth and influence, Tobias watched. He always took pride in seeing the many patrons below indulging in the finest quality of blood, alcohol, and entertainment, but the crowd was lighter than usual this Saturday night. Chairs and even tables that would brim with his kind were left vacant and untouched, while the staff appeared to be patrolling their tables far too easily to his liking.

He knew why it was not bustling like it normally was, but knowing that did not prevent the wound to his ego. There was no impending raid or war that induced fear or the need to prioritize other matters that struck this blow. It was simply another source of entertainment.

Only one night. Tobias gently rubbed his index finger against his full-finger ring. Only one night. He tried to cope, but what he truly needed was a remedy to this ailing problem. It was still quite early, so he could capitalize on the time he had to liven up the establishment.

Raising his left hand, he snapped twice, and in an instant, Frank, a blue-eyed Blooded vampire wearing a burgundy tuxedo shirt and black slacks, was at his side. Tobias nodded to himself, affirming the idea he had in mind without facing the member of the staff before he spoke.

“I expect fewer patrons tonight. Many of our regulars are likely going to that concert.” He spoke softly, but the last word, he said with disgust. He placed his hands against the metal railing of the deck, and again he nodded to himself in affirmation, creating a short moment of silence in his dialogue with Frank, who remained still and prepared to listen to his elder. “We’re lowering our standard admission fee, we’ll permit our patrons to bring in their Thralls and Dolls for half the normal charge, and we’ll extend the Happy Hour up until 10 pm… Inform the promoters. Concert or not, I want these seats filled.” And with a lazy wave of his hand, Tobias dismissed Frank, who left as quickly as he arrived at his side.

For the time being, Tobias would keep his eyes on the band, playing the smooth jazz that soothed the ears and loosened any tension of his treasured patrons. However, it would not be long before he found himself in the chambers below, entertained by a very different kind of passion and indulgence.
In 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕 → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
🎀Charity Date Auction!🎀


Alexander & Mina


The late morning sun cast a honeyed glow over Sorian Park, filtering through canopies of cream-draped silk and flowering arches as if the heavens themselves had blessed the day with a soft, romantic haze. Petals floated lazily in the fountain’s breeze, mingling with the gentle strains of string music and the subtle clink of crystal from the nearby mimosa stand. Everything was picturesque–intentionally so.

And at the heart of it all stood Lady Mina Blackwood.

She was the picture of otherworldly elegance, dressed in deep garnet velvet that clung to her like a whispered secret. The heart-shaped cutout framed her porcelain skin with just enough wicked promise to hush conversations as she passed, and the black lace gloves that adorned her hands gave her the air of a woman who could either ruin a man or write sonnets about him. She stood near the stage, clipboard in hand, but it was clear no detail escaped her. From the perfectly arranged baskets to the carefully staggered auction order, Mina’s meticulous control was cloaked in velvet smiles and easy grace.

Yet beneath it all, something in her gaze remained sharp. Watching. Calculating. As if waiting for the moment, the performance gave way to truth.

Hearing approaching footsteps on the garden path behind her, she didn’t turn. Instead, she only tilted her head slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips as she felt the familiar weight of Alexander’s presence beside her. He was well-dressed as always, but he seemed to keep his appearance more subtle, wearing a classic black tuxedo.

“Perfectly on time,” she said softly, her voice velvet and amusement. “Remind me to thank whatever deity managed to keep us both punctual and sober on the morning of Drunkards Day. I was half-expecting to start this event without either of those things.” Her words were met with Alexander’s crisp white smile as he took her hand in his.

“Oh, Lady Mina, I don’t see a moment of us ever disappointing each other.” He lifted her hand and planted a single kiss upon it. “We can always have that kind of entertainment amongst ourselves.” There was a telling look in his eyes as he brushed his thumb over the spot he had kissed— not wiping it away, but sealing it as he lightly pressed against it.

Mina turned then, eyes sparkling with mischief beneath the brim of civility.

“Shall we charm Sorian senseless?”

“We shall. Whatever may transpire, it will be fruitful.” He pointed his nose toward the adjacent stage where the silent auction would be held. “Whether splendor or romance, we will reap from the desires of those who participate. Those we seek to aid will then benefit.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I’m sure I’ve already expressed this, but thank you. You never fail to be lovely to me.” He flexed his left hand, his ring flashing a gleam against the lighting.

Mina’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, her fingers curling ever so slightly around his in return. The warmth of his hand, the press of his thumb over her skin, didn’t fluster her, but it certainly didn’t go unnoticed either.

“You give me far too much credit, Alexander,” she murmured, voice silk and shadow. “But if you insist on being so flattering, I’ll have to make sure the auction ends in record donations just to prove you right.”

Her gaze flicked toward the stage, eyes narrowing with quiet calculation beneath the charm.

“Let’s make them fall a little in love with all of it, shall we? The baskets, the cause…” Her eyes glittered as they found his again, her smile turning wicked. “And if we’re truly lucky, maybe we’ll bring a few Sorians to their knees before the day is done. I do so enjoy that view.”

“As do I,” He said softly with a sly wink. Mina was making Alexander quite thirsty, so much so that he thought it was only right to get the event started before he had second thoughts on his plans for this morning. It was certain that Callum would show, but they did not need him to partake in any of the work, as it would give the wrong impression of the prince. “Shall we?” Alexander proposed starting as many of the seats in front of the stage were beginning to fill up. Welcoming, opening remarks, and then check on the attendance of our volunteers. The instructions agreed upon were repeated in his mind.

Mina allowed a final playful glance toward Alexander before gliding onto the stage with the fluid grace of someone born to command attention. As she stepped forward, a hush fell like velvet over the gathering crowd, drawn in by the deliberate sway of her movement and the quiet promise in her smile.

She paused at the center, letting the warm sunlight spill around her like stage lighting, then let her gaze sweep over the seated attendees–measured, magnetic, and just shy of wicked.

“Good day, dear Sorian hearts,” Mina began, her voice smooth as satin, curling through the garden air like a well-cast spell. “We are so grateful you’ve joined us on this beautiful day for romance, for revelry, and most importantly… for charity.”

A light smirk touched her lips as she continued, “We have quite a lineup of the city’s most charming and daring participants, each of whom has prepared a picnic basket with care, creativity, and perhaps a little mischief.” She let the last word hang with a teasing lilt.

“Today, you won’t just be bidding on wine and sweets. You’ll be bidding on company. On conversation. On the thrill of the unknown and the delight of discovery.” Her gaze lingered on the crowd, eyes glinting like secrets half-revealed. “And perhaps, if you’re lucky, a moment worth remembering under the garlands and golden light.”

She stepped slightly to the side, turning just enough to offer Alexander the floor beside her.

“But before we begin… allow me to introduce someone equally invested in making today unforgettable. Mr. Alexander Deacon–partner in both charity and charm.”

She gestured with a graceful tilt of her hand, inviting him to take the spotlight. He stepped forward with a face full of joy and excitement.

“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! It is with pleasure that I find so many of you in attendance today for Prince Callum’s charity event meant to stir hearts, spark romance… and of course ignite a bit of competition amongst those searching for something special during this wondrous courting season here in Sorian! As the beautiful Lady Blackwood has mentioned, all proceeds will be made to charity for the sick and starving in the slums of this great capital!” Alexander waved his hand toward the silent auction stage. “And if love is not your objective this season, The Black Rose Trading Company has placed aside surplus goods, ripe for the taking in a silent auction! Furniture, instruments, clothing, antiques, and many everyday items packaged in bulk will be offered, and for winners with the highest bids to take them home! Whether it's hearts or merchandise, don't be shy! Drunkard’s Day should be the day when we’re led by our desires!” Alexander performatively waved his hand up and down toward Mina, suggestively.

“Can we bid on her?!” One fellow hollered.

“Yes, I’d put everything I have on Lady Mina!” Another added, standing from his seat. Excitement filled the crowd at the prospect of having a date with her.

“Control yourselves, good gentlemen! Heel! Heel! Lady Mina is only our hostess… but who knows how this auction may play out…” Alexander shrugged, getting hopeful nods from the eager gentlemen.

Mina’s smile didn’t falter–if anything, it sharpened, the edges laced with a kind of delicious danger that made it very clear that she knew exactly what she was doing.

She stepped forward once more, a hand lifted gracefully in the air to hush the crowd, though the glint in her eyes only added fuel to their fire.

“Such flattery,” she purred, her voice wrapping around the moment like silk and smoke. “I daresay if charm could be bottled and sold, you’d all be walking out of here with empty pockets already.”

A ripple of laughter followed, and she leaned in just slightly, conspiratorial.

“But I must confess… as tempting as it is to let the highest bidder steal me away beneath a willow tree, I’m afraid I’ve already made myself quite unavailable today.” She cast a sly sideways glance toward Alexander before returning her gaze to the crowd, her tone growing more enticing. “Though, I suppose the day is still young and Mr. Deacon has a point that the auction may hold some unexpected surprises.” She gave them a small wink before continuing.

“Still, I invite you to turn that fevered energy toward those who’ve dared to offer themselves up for your delight. The ones who’ve packed not only treats and wine, but little pieces of their hearts into those baskets.”

She spread her arms wide, inviting attention toward the side stage where the participants were to be gathering.

“Each of them is a gift, waiting to be unwrapped, and each bid you place brings us closer to feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and leaving Sorian better than we found it.”

Her smile softened into something warm and irresistible. “So… bid generously, my darlings. You’re not just buying a picnic. You’re buying possibility.”

“Now, let us begin. First up…” Alexander started, looking toward the side stage expectantly.

“Hailing from the Caesonian vacation hotspot of Vermillion with beauty as her sword, poise as her shield, and a sense of humor that'll completely disarm you! A maiden with honor who sometimes wears armor, Knight-Captain of Caesonia
Stratya Durmand!”

In ✨Beyond The Veil✨ → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In ✨Beyond The Veil✨ → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In ✨Beyond The Veil✨ → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Location: The Honey & Hemlock Cafe • Time: Friday Night

Interactions: @Tae Elodie • Mentions: @Tpartywithzombi Vex @princess Angel

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


On the road, Sean had kept his speaking limited as he mulled over tonight’s events and how he might have to miss out on the mystery of Who Done It when it came to the death of the Iron Fang’s number two, Logan. When Elodie mentioned about not being mad at Vex, a short silent sigh escaped him.

“She’s definitely on my shit list. What happened back there shouldn’t have happened.” He replied with a shake of his head. Vex had some explaining to do as far as Sean was concerned. He didn’t have the complete story but from what he could deduce with the supply of blood and the consenting bite mark, was that she was playing house with a vampire. For Sean, whatever anyone did behind closed doors was their business but he was sure she knew the risks of letting herself get bit with how Bear went out, black veins and all. He could only assume she was being foolish or knew she had a lifeline in the form of a cynical warden who played nice with Halcyon’s predatory population.

He often wondered if he was a madman for doing what he did. Consorting with whom he saw most of his life as his enemies. If this was years ago, Elodie’s talk about her relationship with blooddrinking might have made him sick to his stomach, even with how innocent she was. He glanced at her every now and then, as she spoke, not convinced that he’d be so generous if he had been turned into one of her kind. Knowing himself, he’d go all or nothing. Dive in the blood or starvation before he blew his damn brains out.

“It’s a deal… but I’m not kill you if you happen to slip up.” He shrugged and for a beat, he thought about the possibility of such a situation. He winced slightly, but kept his imagination to himself.

“Now, you’re gonna come inside so I can feed you and make you the best coffee of your life.”

“That was always the plan,” he replied with a smirk. He reflexively took a look at his surroundings before leaving the vehicle, never letting his guard down, even in front of the coziest shop in town.

Once the two entered the cafe, Sean couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at Elodie scurrying off to the kitchen without asking for even an ounce of help. He figured she didn’t want to trouble him, and there was also that southern hospitality she’d never do without. Not wanting to argue, he took a seat at his preferred corner table and let her bring over what he’d consider his payment for the short ride-along. He especially eyed the rum as his aching body gave him a good argument for indulging in the beverage.

“I also have pain meds, if desired.”

“I’ll pass on the rum, then.” The rum was so quickly removed as a consideration. He kept telling himself that he was finished for tonight, but he wasn’t quite sure if tonight was finished with him. He was banged up and bruised, but still, he wanted to remain sharp. He’d be a broken, crude blade, yet a viable weapon all the same.

He went for the coffee first, his number one delight, sipping the hot beverage as if it were his last chance to indulge in its rich and bold flavor. All the while, he was listening to Elodie talk about what had happened and what she preferred for next time.

“Hmm…” He gave her words about teaching her self-defense some thought before taking another sip. She went on again, this time nudging him toward making peace with Halcyon for the rest of the night. “First, I can’t promise that, Elodie. This city’s too restless for me to control that, but I’ll try not to get any more hurt than I already am.” He used his mug to point at her. “As for you… Get some rest so that arm can heal, and keep yourself topped off on blood. You’ll need more of it, so no fasting.” His eyes bore down at her with seriousness as he set his mug down.

“Second, I’ll think about the self-defense training, but nights like these aren’t the type I want you getting used to. You’re not a warden or some hired gun. You’re a barista who just happens to be a vampire, so I might just give you a pistol and show you how to shoot it.” He took a third sip of the coffee, already assuming that wasn’t the answer she wanted. He let out a sigh. “But if you want to learn some extra shit, I’ll hit up Sicily or Blondie as I like to call her.. She’ll be better at teaching you how to use that extra speed and strength you’ve got.” Sean pulled out both of his phones, going through his contacts on one of them. “Just say the word.” He stated as he started sending the same message to several of his “work” contacts. A message he wanted to get out to get things stirring, since he was likely not to get answers himself. He needed to feed the ugly monster that was Halcyon. He needed to get the ball rolling.

Logan Delaney, the second in command of the Iron Fangs
is in the dirt and his pups don’t know who did it. Spread
the word, and hit me with any info 💸💸💸


With his other phone, issued by the Wardens, he typed up something a little more professional into the encrypted communications channel. As much as he wished he could cut ties with them, the indoctrinated faction held far too much value for him to go completely independent.

REPORT. Sometime during the last 24 hrs, an unknown party killed Logan Delaney, Second In Command of the Iron Fangs lycan faction. Iron Fangs members continue to search for the culprit. Be advised that their presence and activity within Halcyon may increase.

Time of Acquisition: ~1900hrs
Source: Informant with high veracity

NFI



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