Avatar of Zeeb Blade
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    1. Zeeb Blade 8 yrs ago

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"If you want to ask everyone to leave, that is your choice. I don't want to undermine your power." He says holding her closely to his chest. "Besides, this is your home...."
I said bloodshot. Like from crying.))
"A week. A week of morning the the fire is lit by their son or daughter... I want you to do it with me..." he says looking into her eyes. "I want you to help me send him to the next life... Will you...?"
He looks down at her and with bloodshot eyes, nods. "A pyre... We need to give him a funeral pyre... That is our tradition..." He says softly.
He looks down at her and grips his wife's hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it. "Thank you... Thank you for your kindness..." He then places his lips on her cheek and kisses it. Then light drips of salty water drips on her cheek and shoulder. His heart rate increases and his breathing breaks up in pace. He is crying in her arms...
The senior's eyes start to glow red again in anger.

'ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! AFTER ALL THIS TIME YOU WANT TO DEFY ME?! I SHOULD KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND YOU-" He suddenly stops, his face in a state of confusion, shock, and pain. He then falls to the ground with his eyes rolled back and blood seeping out of his mouth. There is no pulse, no breathing, no sound... He had died...

The younger Vlad takes off his cape and lays it across his father's body. "It was inevitable... I knew his temper would kill him..." He says coldly as his mother wails at her mate's corpse.
He smiles and does the same feeding his wife as she feeds him. His face is alight with joy and happiness from the occasion. Vlad then leads her to their table where gifts galore await them along with a bottle of Nazi blood that Vlad promptly gives to Marcus Von Strong instead for him to consume.

"Trust me, it's not as good as how my father describes it."
"That should satisfy him... Good... Your wisdom is far more than I expected..." He says in a tone to where even though what he said would be insulting, it wasn't. It was more kind than anything else. This was certainly strange. How could one be so rigid as a stone spire, be kind as a child?

He leads her past everyone and into the ballroom where everyone follows to the wedding cake. The groom then draws his sword and offers it to his bride to help him cut their cake.
He smiles and leans in, kissing her deeply, allowing his fangs to scrape against hers. His hand intertwines with hers and their blood mix as one.
He nods, "I do." His voice is unnaturally soft from the way that she has heard him before.
He starts striding with her up the isle, keeping his eyes straight ahead the entire time. His hand is actually warmer than what she had expected but there is an even greater shock of him being gentile with her. Her sisters' husbands have all been fairly rough to them. But this iteration to the Tepes House was unusually gentle. He reaches the end of the hall with her and then face each other.
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