The life and times of an aristocratic secret vampire society and their newly adopted fledglings. Shenanigans abound!
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Fantasy The Configuration - The Dygarian Mansion - Kitchen - [CLOSED]
- Thread starter mothspit
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The Configuration - The Dygarian Mansion - [CLOSED]
The Configuration - The Dygarian Mansion - Office - [CLOSED]
The Configuration - The Dygarian Mansion - Library - [CLOSED]
The Configuration - The Dygarian Mansion - Kitchen - [CLOSED]
The Configuration - OOC
The Configuration - Bad Times at El Vampiro - [CLOSED]
The Configuration - Modern Fantasy/Vampire/Detailed - [CLOSED INDEFINITELY]
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
When you entered the eloquently decorated kitchen of the mansion, only one thing crossed your mind: Why did vampires even need kitchens?
Still, there appeared to be some application, as every available surface was adorned with various crystal glasses, each filled with a viscous, bubbling red substance. You knew what was in them. Various servants, all dressed in the same black tailcoat suit, wandered about the kitchen, stacking empty glasses into a sink of hot soapy water. As foamy bubbles rose, they took on faint pink tint. At your entry, you were hit with the same meaty smell from before; Looks like they were human. Some would load freshly filled glasses onto silver trays, carting them out to the mingling guests in the other room.
Some servants appeared to be talking to each other as they handed off glasses to be cleaned, but when you trained your ear to their conversations, nothing important jumped out to you. Though, the servant who spent their time scrubbing the empty glasses, sleeves rolled up and elbow deep in the sink.. You noticed something about the way they worked. Every time a glass was placed into the water, they began scrubbing it with a quickness, placing it on a nearby drying rack. They did so with a particular methodological flare; As if the action was.. robotic. Trained. Ingrained into their very psyche. Then, you saw it; On their forearm, there was some kind of.. plastic port, like one you would find on a bottle of oil. Huh. Did all the servants have one of those..?
Towards the back of the kitchen, leaning up against one of the marble counters was a woman. Brown hair pulled back into long ponytail, and almond colored eyes scowling into the lit screen of a phone. She wasn't wearing a dress like the other patrons; Instead, she was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, coupled with a pair of particularly intimidating boots. She had a silver flask in hand, and occasionally sipped it with a roll of her eyes and a self-directed scoff. Tucked behind her ear was a single cigarette yet to be lit.
It didn't look like she was the conversation type, but if anything, she looked more approachable than half of those in the foyer.
Office - Foyer - Library
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Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
Just as she had thought the evening couldn't get any worse, Ajax so smugly pointed out a tiny, yet oh so important, detail they had missed. Which would have been understandable, none of them were accomplished detectives after all, and yet...Tess couldn't shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning of a crucial few "details" waiting for them in the very, very near future.
The dry crack of snapping bone sent a chill running down the Serbian's spine as she wondered if it was even possible for her newly acquired vampiric form to feel anything resembling warmth. Her last recollection of it being the night when her throat was torn open and her hot blood would drain from her dying flesh, staining the very clothes she wore. Her hand instinctively came to rest over the side of her neck where flesh had been torn and arteries had been rent, and another cold shiver would wreak havoc on her already strained psyche. Be it rigor mortis, the snowy outside, or simply the bone-chilling events of this rather traumatizing evening, Tess couldn't quite recall when she last felt warm....and safe. It just felt like from this point on there was no such thing as being safe, danger just lurking behind one's back to pounce on her the moment it got the chance.
The roaring applause of the crowd and their words rang through Tess' skull as the event was drawing to a close, Ajax presenting them with the grand price. A metaphorical metamorphosis as they'd shed their old skin for a new one.
Watching the crowd slowly flood into the foyer like a tidal wave, they seemed to be left mostly to their own devices for the time being, and finally inhaling deeply, feeling as if she had held her breath for the entire evening, Tess would slowly make her way over to the clothing racks.
Dark eyes would wander over the many pieces, each one probably worth more than what she'd earn in a year, she'd raise an eyebrow as they'd find a wide array of clothing that'd she rather not be seen in.
She never really had a thing for long dresses, be it because she felt utterly ridiculous wearing them, or maybe it was just that she grew up wearing nothing but rugged jeans and t-shirts that were two sizes too big for her.
Finally spying something more to her liking, Tess let go of a satisfied hum, picking up several parts of what you'd see a bartender wear in any respectable establishment.
A vivid purple waistcoat with finer patterns that seemed like they had been stitched by hand, a matching white shirt with expensive-looking buttons and a tightly fitting pair of dark trousers. Completed with a nice set of black leather shoes.
"Don't mind if I do..." The Smuggler remarked with an amused smirk that displayed her dimples before hurrying off to a changing room.
Before returning, clothed in a rather chic looking outfit that despite greatly improving her looks, didn't quite seem to manage to wipe that typical crooked, half-smirk off her face, completely ruining the chances of anyone actually mistaking her for a proper high-society gal.
Flattening her vest and rolling back her sleeves, affixing them with a rather fancy-looking button, Tess would gaze back at her fellow fledgling vampires, nodding towards the entrance.
"I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink after that." The ex-Smuggler turned Vampire would muse with a drawn-out sigh, running her fingers through her messy dark hair.
"So...Catch you guys out there."
The vampire would remark before joining everyone else in the foyer.
Instantly, her eyes would pick up on servants, obviously human judging by them not nearly looking pale enough to be vampires, ferrying glasses from the foyer to what looked like the kitchen and back.
"Guess my chances to get some booze are higher there..." Tess mumbled under her breath before making her way through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone as she finally found herself inside the kitchen.
And was promptly greeted by the fleshy scent of blood that had made her sick to her stomach mere moments ago, but now, under different circumstances, Tess felt something different in her stomach.
Letting her gaze wander, looking for someone who'd be able to point her towards the nearest bar, or rather to what had been plaguing her mind for a very long time; the ingredients to create what she had enjoyed so dearly in life.
Instead, her eyes found none other than Florence, her bloody driver, jugging from a flask not unlike Tess' own...and having a cigarette just aching to be lit tucked behind her ear.
Not being able to suppress the need to let go of an amused chuckle, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her face, the newly turned Vampire would approach her maker, a crooked grin adorning her visage.
"Oh, didn't think you'd stick around, not after that oh so motivating speech you gave me in the car. Thought I'd find myself back where I started; bloodied in a ditch." Tess would remark, resting her hands in her pockets as she'd raise an eyebrow at Florence.
"But hey, seems things turned out way worse than I had thought. To think I'd actually be bloody glad bumping into you again." Tess would continue, something obviously having loosened her tongue.
The dry crack of snapping bone sent a chill running down the Serbian's spine as she wondered if it was even possible for her newly acquired vampiric form to feel anything resembling warmth. Her last recollection of it being the night when her throat was torn open and her hot blood would drain from her dying flesh, staining the very clothes she wore. Her hand instinctively came to rest over the side of her neck where flesh had been torn and arteries had been rent, and another cold shiver would wreak havoc on her already strained psyche. Be it rigor mortis, the snowy outside, or simply the bone-chilling events of this rather traumatizing evening, Tess couldn't quite recall when she last felt warm....and safe. It just felt like from this point on there was no such thing as being safe, danger just lurking behind one's back to pounce on her the moment it got the chance.
The roaring applause of the crowd and their words rang through Tess' skull as the event was drawing to a close, Ajax presenting them with the grand price. A metaphorical metamorphosis as they'd shed their old skin for a new one.
Watching the crowd slowly flood into the foyer like a tidal wave, they seemed to be left mostly to their own devices for the time being, and finally inhaling deeply, feeling as if she had held her breath for the entire evening, Tess would slowly make her way over to the clothing racks.
Dark eyes would wander over the many pieces, each one probably worth more than what she'd earn in a year, she'd raise an eyebrow as they'd find a wide array of clothing that'd she rather not be seen in.
She never really had a thing for long dresses, be it because she felt utterly ridiculous wearing them, or maybe it was just that she grew up wearing nothing but rugged jeans and t-shirts that were two sizes too big for her.
Finally spying something more to her liking, Tess let go of a satisfied hum, picking up several parts of what you'd see a bartender wear in any respectable establishment.
A vivid purple waistcoat with finer patterns that seemed like they had been stitched by hand, a matching white shirt with expensive-looking buttons and a tightly fitting pair of dark trousers. Completed with a nice set of black leather shoes.
"Don't mind if I do..." The Smuggler remarked with an amused smirk that displayed her dimples before hurrying off to a changing room.
Before returning, clothed in a rather chic looking outfit that despite greatly improving her looks, didn't quite seem to manage to wipe that typical crooked, half-smirk off her face, completely ruining the chances of anyone actually mistaking her for a proper high-society gal.
Flattening her vest and rolling back her sleeves, affixing them with a rather fancy-looking button, Tess would gaze back at her fellow fledgling vampires, nodding towards the entrance.
"I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink after that." The ex-Smuggler turned Vampire would muse with a drawn-out sigh, running her fingers through her messy dark hair.
"So...Catch you guys out there."
The vampire would remark before joining everyone else in the foyer.
Instantly, her eyes would pick up on servants, obviously human judging by them not nearly looking pale enough to be vampires, ferrying glasses from the foyer to what looked like the kitchen and back.
"Guess my chances to get some booze are higher there..." Tess mumbled under her breath before making her way through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone as she finally found herself inside the kitchen.
And was promptly greeted by the fleshy scent of blood that had made her sick to her stomach mere moments ago, but now, under different circumstances, Tess felt something different in her stomach.
Letting her gaze wander, looking for someone who'd be able to point her towards the nearest bar, or rather to what had been plaguing her mind for a very long time; the ingredients to create what she had enjoyed so dearly in life.
Instead, her eyes found none other than Florence, her bloody driver, jugging from a flask not unlike Tess' own...and having a cigarette just aching to be lit tucked behind her ear.
Not being able to suppress the need to let go of an amused chuckle, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her face, the newly turned Vampire would approach her maker, a crooked grin adorning her visage.
"Oh, didn't think you'd stick around, not after that oh so motivating speech you gave me in the car. Thought I'd find myself back where I started; bloodied in a ditch." Tess would remark, resting her hands in her pockets as she'd raise an eyebrow at Florence.
"But hey, seems things turned out way worse than I had thought. To think I'd actually be bloody glad bumping into you again." Tess would continue, something obviously having loosened her tongue.
shadowz1995
Amoeba of Wisdom
The sound of bones breaking in real life was never like they depicted in the movies or any media. They made it sound like broken bones sound like wood snapping or a nut being smashed by a nutcracker. In reality, one of two things happened. Only the person who broke something heard it or it sounded horrible. A dull, wet, crackle muffled by layers of flesh, blood and skin. It was like hearing someone bite into a fresh carrot from the other side of a door.
Funny enough, putting four bullets in a man's head made Hector feel bad but hearing a man's neck get snapped so effortlessly was downright skin crawling.... at least for him.
Christ almighty, he could probably do the same thing. Hector was insanely strong as a human. He could snap a neck then without much effort. What about now? Would it be like Ajax? A small squeeze and a short turn to the side was all it would take?
Hector was already a man who leaned towards the darker side of things, morally speaking. Being able to end lives with such ease was not making it easier for him to make the right choices in life. To do the right things to make up for a lifetime of wrongs.
The roar of the crowd and cheering fell on deaf ears. Hector couldn't hear them. He could only see the limp body that passed away while unconscious. An accomplice. Was that worth dying? Does that make you just as guilty? The man could honestly say he didn't know.
When Lyra and Tess actually moved is when the big man snapped back to reality. To anyone else, it would just look like he spaced off for a moment.
Hector followed suit and took a quick gander and realized that 90% of this wardrobe was not something he would wear. The only time Hector ever put on a suit was for those paid-off-hearings against him in the court of law.
As previously stated, Hector didn't actually hear Ajax and only moved after he saw the other two move. So, he was under the assumption the ladies moved elsewhere to get some privacy. Hector being not only a professional athelete but a man, didn't particularly mind changing in front of others. Not that he wouldn't have taken the changing room offer but he just wasn't aware..... nor did he care at this point. He had just taken a life, after all.
With a swift movement, the hoodie came up over the Venezuelan's muscled shoulders and down to the floor. The man was half a century old and while you could see it in his face, eyes, and hair, his body was another tale entirely. Despite his years, Hector's physique was as rippled, large, and defined as any young pro athlete today. It was as if the man had never left the ring. The only other sign of his age was tell tale scarring on his skin and faded tattoos that complimented them. Both of which clearly had many years on them.
Over 6 feet of hardened muscle stood staring at the clothing racks to which he eventually snatched a pair of blue designer jeans and charcoal grey long sleeve shirt that clearly was not created for a man of Hector's size to wear. Probably designer in nature as well. Its not like he would know. Fashion had always been one of the last things on the newblood's mind.
The big fledgling made his was past the crowd and into the foyer only to catch a glimpse of the man Hector wanted to crush. Ajax stood talking to some other man but that was the least of his concerns. He sent Ajax a murderous glare before deciding to follow one of the servants to wherever their destination was. Chances were, it was probably the kitchen and his guess turned out correct.
Hector wanted to cook something because for whatever reason, the killing earlier made him unbearably hungry. Little did he know that the other vagrant of the group had wandered in as well.
Given by Tess's reaction earlier to the execution, Hector considered it safe to say that whatever mutual respect they had was probably gone. Hector merely nodded his head towards the ladies and propped his massive back against the wall.
Unbeknownst to Hector, he voiced the same thing Tess had earlier, "Are there any drinks around here?" he asked solemnly, watching the servants move robotically back and forth. He was going to need some hard liquor to calm his nerves before he got to making any cuisines.
Funny enough, putting four bullets in a man's head made Hector feel bad but hearing a man's neck get snapped so effortlessly was downright skin crawling.... at least for him.
Christ almighty, he could probably do the same thing. Hector was insanely strong as a human. He could snap a neck then without much effort. What about now? Would it be like Ajax? A small squeeze and a short turn to the side was all it would take?
Hector was already a man who leaned towards the darker side of things, morally speaking. Being able to end lives with such ease was not making it easier for him to make the right choices in life. To do the right things to make up for a lifetime of wrongs.
The roar of the crowd and cheering fell on deaf ears. Hector couldn't hear them. He could only see the limp body that passed away while unconscious. An accomplice. Was that worth dying? Does that make you just as guilty? The man could honestly say he didn't know.
When Lyra and Tess actually moved is when the big man snapped back to reality. To anyone else, it would just look like he spaced off for a moment.
Hector followed suit and took a quick gander and realized that 90% of this wardrobe was not something he would wear. The only time Hector ever put on a suit was for those paid-off-hearings against him in the court of law.
As previously stated, Hector didn't actually hear Ajax and only moved after he saw the other two move. So, he was under the assumption the ladies moved elsewhere to get some privacy. Hector being not only a professional athelete but a man, didn't particularly mind changing in front of others. Not that he wouldn't have taken the changing room offer but he just wasn't aware..... nor did he care at this point. He had just taken a life, after all.
With a swift movement, the hoodie came up over the Venezuelan's muscled shoulders and down to the floor. The man was half a century old and while you could see it in his face, eyes, and hair, his body was another tale entirely. Despite his years, Hector's physique was as rippled, large, and defined as any young pro athlete today. It was as if the man had never left the ring. The only other sign of his age was tell tale scarring on his skin and faded tattoos that complimented them. Both of which clearly had many years on them.
Over 6 feet of hardened muscle stood staring at the clothing racks to which he eventually snatched a pair of blue designer jeans and charcoal grey long sleeve shirt that clearly was not created for a man of Hector's size to wear. Probably designer in nature as well. Its not like he would know. Fashion had always been one of the last things on the newblood's mind.
The big fledgling made his was past the crowd and into the foyer only to catch a glimpse of the man Hector wanted to crush. Ajax stood talking to some other man but that was the least of his concerns. He sent Ajax a murderous glare before deciding to follow one of the servants to wherever their destination was. Chances were, it was probably the kitchen and his guess turned out correct.
Hector wanted to cook something because for whatever reason, the killing earlier made him unbearably hungry. Little did he know that the other vagrant of the group had wandered in as well.
Given by Tess's reaction earlier to the execution, Hector considered it safe to say that whatever mutual respect they had was probably gone. Hector merely nodded his head towards the ladies and propped his massive back against the wall.
Unbeknownst to Hector, he voiced the same thing Tess had earlier, "Are there any drinks around here?" he asked solemnly, watching the servants move robotically back and forth. He was going to need some hard liquor to calm his nerves before he got to making any cuisines.
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Florence looked up at the sound of her offsprings voice, tearing her eyes away from whatever had soured her mood on the screen of her phone. She tucked it into the pocket of her jacket with a scoff. After a quick swig of her flask that was absolutely not Tess's with a new coat of paint on it, she gave her a full up-and-down stare.
"Look at you, pumpkin. My little girl, all grown up."
She feigned with falsetto, cupping her hands together and batting her eyelashes.
"My, my. Looks like your ego has swollen something fierce. Don't act so tough, I saw you heaving up there."
Florence couldn't help but laugh at the memory of Tess gagging. She even mimicked the action herself, clutching her arms to her stomach and pretending to choke, her tongue comedically stuck out as if she had tasted something terrible. Clearly an exaggeration of what actually happened, but still a bit fucked up, given the circumstances. Finished with her little charade, she crosses her arms across her chest, a cheeky grin plastered from ear to ear.
"Relax, I'm just messing with you. I read somewhere it's healthy to joke about these things."
She opened her mouth to answer that last question, but was cut short at Hector's appearance, asking for the same thing. She seemed to change her posture at his entry, letting her arms hang at her sides. Gone was her jovial snarkiness; Probably because she wasn't expecting the guy who shot the suspect to walk in so soon. It looked like, if anything, there was one thing she wouldn't make a joke about.
"..There's a bar next to the library. It's got a pretty decent selection."
Her tone had dropped considerably to something more normal, and less.. asshole-y. ..Was she talking about booze, or blood? Booze, right? Yeah. Definitely. Fuck.
shadowz1995
Vampunk
"Look at you, pumpkin. My little girl, all grown up."
She feigned with falsetto, cupping her hands together and batting her eyelashes.
"My, my. Looks like your ego has swollen something fierce. Don't act so tough, I saw you heaving up there."
Florence couldn't help but laugh at the memory of Tess gagging. She even mimicked the action herself, clutching her arms to her stomach and pretending to choke, her tongue comedically stuck out as if she had tasted something terrible. Clearly an exaggeration of what actually happened, but still a bit fucked up, given the circumstances. Finished with her little charade, she crosses her arms across her chest, a cheeky grin plastered from ear to ear.
"Relax, I'm just messing with you. I read somewhere it's healthy to joke about these things."
She opened her mouth to answer that last question, but was cut short at Hector's appearance, asking for the same thing. She seemed to change her posture at his entry, letting her arms hang at her sides. Gone was her jovial snarkiness; Probably because she wasn't expecting the guy who shot the suspect to walk in so soon. It looked like, if anything, there was one thing she wouldn't make a joke about.
"..There's a bar next to the library. It's got a pretty decent selection."
Her tone had dropped considerably to something more normal, and less.. asshole-y. ..Was she talking about booze, or blood? Booze, right? Yeah. Definitely. Fuck.
shadowz1995
Vampunk
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Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
Tess' crooked grin wavered slightly, slimming down into a faint smirk as her maker would shower her with the exact feigned approval her childhood had been devoid of. And for the briefest of moments, the Serbian smuggler felt more than just embarrassment over her maker's mockery.
Choosing to see it as merely a jackass' attempt at humour, Tess would let go of an overly forced laugh, raising an eyebrow at Florence as she'd rest her hands on her hips.
The black suit pants and purple vest actually accenting her figure better than the baggy clothing she had worn when she was killed...and what she had been forced to wear for most of her undead "life" so far. And yet, looking a lot more posh than she had intended to, her appearance clashed heavily with the theatrical pout that had crept unto her visage.
"Hey now, I better get something out of being killed and dragged into whatever bloody hive of leeches this is. Even if it's just the uncontrollable urge to spill the contents of my stomach on someone's gaudy dress or actually get a new set of clothes. You guys kind of ruined my old ones. Left quite the literal bloody mess on my shirt, didn't your mother ever teach you how to dine properly, huh? Got blood all over my shit." The newly turned vampire would engage with Florence's teasing, it was after all, a game TWO could play.
Her maker answering Hector's question brought her train of thoughts back to what made her come here in the first place as she'd eye the Venezuelan thoroughly.
She hadn't quite had the chance to get to know her fellow "leech victims" but the tall man seemed like business, he just radiated an air of grit that made her unapproachable for most. But Tess had known many just like him, well not exactly, but rather those trying to be like Hector.
"Huh, you didn't seem picky about what to wear. Snazzy suits or badass studded leather not to your liking?" Tess would remark with an amused chuckle before turning to face Florence.
"Anyhow! I don't know if any of you guys had ever had the same idea as me, but I suppose exchanging one vital red fluid for an other in a Bloody Mary could yield quite the interesting results, eh?" The Smuggler asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked grin that spread from one dimpled cheek to the other, revealing her perfectly white ivories.
Her dark eyes catching a glimpse of Florence'"s" flask made Tess let go of a soft hum as she raised her gaze to meet her maker's own.
"I really need to get one of those myself. Used to carry one around all the time, though I guess the times of whiskey and vodka have come to an end...Plus I really need to get my hands on a pack of smokes too, you guys thoroughly rid me of any of my goodies when you had me locked in your closet. Thought I'd become one of the many skeletons you hide in there. It's only fair if you'd give out a round, eh?" Whatever reservations the smuggler might have had earlier this evening seemed to be gone by now, her tongue loosened by the prospect of a well-deserved drink, a nice smoke and just someone to actually have to deal with her constant babbling.
Florence would come to regret turning her instead of just dumping her lifeless body in some dark ditch.
Or at least that's what Tess thought would happen.....eventually.
Choosing to see it as merely a jackass' attempt at humour, Tess would let go of an overly forced laugh, raising an eyebrow at Florence as she'd rest her hands on her hips.
The black suit pants and purple vest actually accenting her figure better than the baggy clothing she had worn when she was killed...and what she had been forced to wear for most of her undead "life" so far. And yet, looking a lot more posh than she had intended to, her appearance clashed heavily with the theatrical pout that had crept unto her visage.
"Hey now, I better get something out of being killed and dragged into whatever bloody hive of leeches this is. Even if it's just the uncontrollable urge to spill the contents of my stomach on someone's gaudy dress or actually get a new set of clothes. You guys kind of ruined my old ones. Left quite the literal bloody mess on my shirt, didn't your mother ever teach you how to dine properly, huh? Got blood all over my shit." The newly turned vampire would engage with Florence's teasing, it was after all, a game TWO could play.
Her maker answering Hector's question brought her train of thoughts back to what made her come here in the first place as she'd eye the Venezuelan thoroughly.
She hadn't quite had the chance to get to know her fellow "leech victims" but the tall man seemed like business, he just radiated an air of grit that made her unapproachable for most. But Tess had known many just like him, well not exactly, but rather those trying to be like Hector.
"Huh, you didn't seem picky about what to wear. Snazzy suits or badass studded leather not to your liking?" Tess would remark with an amused chuckle before turning to face Florence.
"Anyhow! I don't know if any of you guys had ever had the same idea as me, but I suppose exchanging one vital red fluid for an other in a Bloody Mary could yield quite the interesting results, eh?" The Smuggler asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked grin that spread from one dimpled cheek to the other, revealing her perfectly white ivories.
Her dark eyes catching a glimpse of Florence'"s" flask made Tess let go of a soft hum as she raised her gaze to meet her maker's own.
"I really need to get one of those myself. Used to carry one around all the time, though I guess the times of whiskey and vodka have come to an end...Plus I really need to get my hands on a pack of smokes too, you guys thoroughly rid me of any of my goodies when you had me locked in your closet. Thought I'd become one of the many skeletons you hide in there. It's only fair if you'd give out a round, eh?" Whatever reservations the smuggler might have had earlier this evening seemed to be gone by now, her tongue loosened by the prospect of a well-deserved drink, a nice smoke and just someone to actually have to deal with her constant babbling.
Florence would come to regret turning her instead of just dumping her lifeless body in some dark ditch.
Or at least that's what Tess thought would happen.....eventually.
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
It was clear that Florence was uncomfortable in Hector's presence. Not because she intimidated him; Truth be told, she had seen many sturdy bulls wander through these parties. Not many of them lasted. It wasn't even the fact he was responsible for someones death; She knew what that was like, too. It was moreso the way he shot the suspect with a certain cold efficiency. He didn't hesitate. She was used to Ajax's antics, but something about Hector reminded her of a particular flavor of death: One enacted out of necessity. Something she hadn't seen in.. a very long time.
When she turned back to Tess, she took another large sip from the flask.. Until she mentioned it, at which point she was quick to stuff it into the pocket of her jeans.
"..Yeah, uh.. Anyway." She said with a squint and a set of pursed lips, doing her best to appear casual.
"Very funny," She scoffs with a roll of her eyes, "Not that it matters, but it wasn't exactly fun for me either. You're a lot heavier than you look, y'know that?"
A drink certainly wasn't out of the question, but currently the only thing Florence wanted was to get out of this weird atmosphere the large man gave off. Too familiar for comfort-- Way too many emotions were happening right now, and who needs those? It wasn't entirely clear how she felt about her new child, but the tone of her voice didn't indicate outright disdain. That's a plus, right?
"Kid, our kind practically invented the art of drink mixing. How about we, uh, go for a smoke first? The foyer has ashtrays."
Removing the cigarette from her ear, she offered it to Tess with two fingers. ..There wasn't a pack in the car on the way here, and it didn't look like she had one on her person.. Wait a hot minute. Did Florence..?
Vampunk
shadowz1995
When she turned back to Tess, she took another large sip from the flask.. Until she mentioned it, at which point she was quick to stuff it into the pocket of her jeans.
"..Yeah, uh.. Anyway." She said with a squint and a set of pursed lips, doing her best to appear casual.
"Very funny," She scoffs with a roll of her eyes, "Not that it matters, but it wasn't exactly fun for me either. You're a lot heavier than you look, y'know that?"
A drink certainly wasn't out of the question, but currently the only thing Florence wanted was to get out of this weird atmosphere the large man gave off. Too familiar for comfort-- Way too many emotions were happening right now, and who needs those? It wasn't entirely clear how she felt about her new child, but the tone of her voice didn't indicate outright disdain. That's a plus, right?
"Kid, our kind practically invented the art of drink mixing. How about we, uh, go for a smoke first? The foyer has ashtrays."
Removing the cigarette from her ear, she offered it to Tess with two fingers. ..There wasn't a pack in the car on the way here, and it didn't look like she had one on her person.. Wait a hot minute. Did Florence..?
Vampunk
shadowz1995
Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
"Are you calling me fat or just big-boned?" Tess would reply to her maker's dry remark, her hands coming to flatten her purple vest as she straightened up, trying to appear lankier than she already was.
Something about Florence was familiar to her, and Tess was sure it wasn't just them sharing the same bloodline now. No, it was something different, and it reminded her of "home", whatever that may have been to the Smuggler with no real country or place to call her own. She had taken the very first opportunity to leave Serbia, and her family, behind to find her own luck.
And what bloody luck it was. Constantly competing with small fries, and when she did try to outwit some bigger fish in an attempt at finally moving up in the world she'd find herself bleeding out, and turned into a bloody leech.
Not exactly the kind of success story you'd find in some famous bloke's autobiography.
"Well, guess you've got a point there. When most of your meals consist of liquids you'd better get some variety in there lest you go bloody mad." Tess remarked with a crooked grind adorning her visage as she brushed a strand of messy black hair out of her face.
"But yeah, can't really refuse an opportunity to get some smokes..." The Serbian would answer as her dark eyes would come to rest on the cigarette Florence offered her.
"Huh..." Briefly hesitating, Tess finally snatched the cigarette out of Florence's grasp as she raised it to take a quick whiff of its scent as a certain thought started to gnaw at the back of her head.
The arch of her eyebrow raising higher than it had ever been, Tess shot her maker a judgmental glare as she'd balance the cigarette between two fingers.
"So, you guys deal with smokes or what, because I'm pretty damn sure that's a local brand you don't usually get around these parts." The Serbian would ask, weighing her words carefully as they melted on the tip of her tongue, her eyes never leaving Florence.
Wait a bloody minute...that goddamn flask too?!
What a B...
mothspit
Something about Florence was familiar to her, and Tess was sure it wasn't just them sharing the same bloodline now. No, it was something different, and it reminded her of "home", whatever that may have been to the Smuggler with no real country or place to call her own. She had taken the very first opportunity to leave Serbia, and her family, behind to find her own luck.
And what bloody luck it was. Constantly competing with small fries, and when she did try to outwit some bigger fish in an attempt at finally moving up in the world she'd find herself bleeding out, and turned into a bloody leech.
Not exactly the kind of success story you'd find in some famous bloke's autobiography.
"Well, guess you've got a point there. When most of your meals consist of liquids you'd better get some variety in there lest you go bloody mad." Tess remarked with a crooked grind adorning her visage as she brushed a strand of messy black hair out of her face.
"But yeah, can't really refuse an opportunity to get some smokes..." The Serbian would answer as her dark eyes would come to rest on the cigarette Florence offered her.
"Huh..." Briefly hesitating, Tess finally snatched the cigarette out of Florence's grasp as she raised it to take a quick whiff of its scent as a certain thought started to gnaw at the back of her head.
The arch of her eyebrow raising higher than it had ever been, Tess shot her maker a judgmental glare as she'd balance the cigarette between two fingers.
"So, you guys deal with smokes or what, because I'm pretty damn sure that's a local brand you don't usually get around these parts." The Serbian would ask, weighing her words carefully as they melted on the tip of her tongue, her eyes never leaving Florence.
Wait a bloody minute...that goddamn flask too?!
What a B...
mothspit
shadowz1995
Amoeba of Wisdom
Florence's sudden change in demeanor certainly didn't go unnoticed. Not so much her words but her body language spoke octaves higher than her words ever could. She was intimidated or at the very least, unnerved by him. Something about him was throwing her off her game. Hector chalked it up to his earlier.... antics and general demeanor. It wasn't anything new for the newblood to witness weaker willed individuals fold in his presence. For whatever the reason may have been.
That being said, Tess also seemed to be a healthy dose more wary around him and that was certainly because of the incident. It made sense. He had just killed someone.
But it needed to be done. It was us or them and Hector wasn't going to die for anyone just yet.
Luckily, it didn't seem like Tess was too put off as she immediately cracked a joke that made Hector's face scrunch up in a wrinkled grimace. As if he had smelled something really foul, "I've never been one for fancy clothing. And the s-.... stud-....."
That was a new one.
"Studded? The little metal... balls in the leather jackets? If that's what you're talking about then no. People that wear that are trying very hard to look hard and tough. If you are really a... hard man, you could look hard in a dress."
Well, that was certainly something to imagine...
"But these clothes really are a bit tight." He complained as he fussed with the tight neckline of the long sleeve, only to let loose a short spanish curse when a very audible Rip went into the kitchen space. The stitiching in the collar had torn slightly thanks to the strain and Hector's newfound vampiric strength.
Hector glanced out the direction he entered when the bar question was answered and it was clear the man didn't want to go back outside. Not out of fear for the vampires but out of fear of someone pissing him off. Instead, his green ire came back around and started scanning cabinets until a potential target was found.
A vintage looking bottle of wine sat in a glass cabinet and Hector made a beeline for it. He prayed to everything divine that it wasn't some stereotypical blood wine or something and his prayers were indeed answered when he ripped the cork off and smelled the aged grapes within. A long sigh caused his shoulders to rise and fall slowly, "Gracias dios mio..." he muttered to himself.
He turned around to face the ladies again, leaned up against the countertop and tilted the entire bottle upwards against his lips, letting the red-purple liquid spill its delicious contents across his tongue and down his throat. It couldn't be classified as a swig... not really.... Hector took two big Gulps Of the stuff before setting it down with a long exhale of relief.
The big man's free hand came upwards and he pressed his thumb and pointing knuckle against his eyes, eventually coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes opened up and when they did, one could really see the age in the man. While most of the vampires around were probably vastly older than Hector was, they lacked that air of seniority. That feeling that made you want to call someone Sir or Ma'am out of respect. Even if it was your first time speaking to them. Like a poweful, influential businesswoman or an old soldier. It was as if their personalities froze in time along with their bodies.
At least, it seemed that way from what Hector could pick up in the side conversations within the Foyer.
Hector looked across to Florence and narrowed his eyes at her. She really wanted to get away from him and that fact was making him suspicious. What about him was setting off what was probably a vastly older vampire? There was no way she hadn't seen anyone of his build before and if Ajax was anything to go off of, murderers should exist in droves. That couldn't have been the first time she had seen someone kill.
So, what the hell was it?
"You could have told me there was wine..." Hector said accusingly to Tess's creator. It was clear she was beginning to gain his attention but the Hispanic's green eyes flicked to Tess and his suspicious gaze lessened considerably. He doubted anyone wanted a grilling session after the execution moments ago.
The smokes caught his attention.... it had been decades since Hector had last put any kind of poisons into his body. Alcohol or cigarettes alike. He had given it all up for his boxing career after he immigrated and only recently took to drinking again after he realized he couldn't exact his venegeance on the ones who ruined him. He had started drowning in despair, booze, and smoldering, bottled hatred.
But now....
His body was supposedly immortal.
Another long sigh before he gently reached out, his eyes locked on the smokes, palm politely asking for permission, "May I have one? Please?"
That being said, Tess also seemed to be a healthy dose more wary around him and that was certainly because of the incident. It made sense. He had just killed someone.
But it needed to be done. It was us or them and Hector wasn't going to die for anyone just yet.
Luckily, it didn't seem like Tess was too put off as she immediately cracked a joke that made Hector's face scrunch up in a wrinkled grimace. As if he had smelled something really foul, "I've never been one for fancy clothing. And the s-.... stud-....."
That was a new one.
"Studded? The little metal... balls in the leather jackets? If that's what you're talking about then no. People that wear that are trying very hard to look hard and tough. If you are really a... hard man, you could look hard in a dress."
Well, that was certainly something to imagine...
"But these clothes really are a bit tight." He complained as he fussed with the tight neckline of the long sleeve, only to let loose a short spanish curse when a very audible Rip went into the kitchen space. The stitiching in the collar had torn slightly thanks to the strain and Hector's newfound vampiric strength.
Hector glanced out the direction he entered when the bar question was answered and it was clear the man didn't want to go back outside. Not out of fear for the vampires but out of fear of someone pissing him off. Instead, his green ire came back around and started scanning cabinets until a potential target was found.
A vintage looking bottle of wine sat in a glass cabinet and Hector made a beeline for it. He prayed to everything divine that it wasn't some stereotypical blood wine or something and his prayers were indeed answered when he ripped the cork off and smelled the aged grapes within. A long sigh caused his shoulders to rise and fall slowly, "Gracias dios mio..." he muttered to himself.
He turned around to face the ladies again, leaned up against the countertop and tilted the entire bottle upwards against his lips, letting the red-purple liquid spill its delicious contents across his tongue and down his throat. It couldn't be classified as a swig... not really.... Hector took two big Gulps Of the stuff before setting it down with a long exhale of relief.
The big man's free hand came upwards and he pressed his thumb and pointing knuckle against his eyes, eventually coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes opened up and when they did, one could really see the age in the man. While most of the vampires around were probably vastly older than Hector was, they lacked that air of seniority. That feeling that made you want to call someone Sir or Ma'am out of respect. Even if it was your first time speaking to them. Like a poweful, influential businesswoman or an old soldier. It was as if their personalities froze in time along with their bodies.
At least, it seemed that way from what Hector could pick up in the side conversations within the Foyer.
Hector looked across to Florence and narrowed his eyes at her. She really wanted to get away from him and that fact was making him suspicious. What about him was setting off what was probably a vastly older vampire? There was no way she hadn't seen anyone of his build before and if Ajax was anything to go off of, murderers should exist in droves. That couldn't have been the first time she had seen someone kill.
So, what the hell was it?
"You could have told me there was wine..." Hector said accusingly to Tess's creator. It was clear she was beginning to gain his attention but the Hispanic's green eyes flicked to Tess and his suspicious gaze lessened considerably. He doubted anyone wanted a grilling session after the execution moments ago.
The smokes caught his attention.... it had been decades since Hector had last put any kind of poisons into his body. Alcohol or cigarettes alike. He had given it all up for his boxing career after he immigrated and only recently took to drinking again after he realized he couldn't exact his venegeance on the ones who ruined him. He had started drowning in despair, booze, and smoldering, bottled hatred.
But now....
His body was supposedly immortal.
Another long sigh before he gently reached out, his eyes locked on the smokes, palm politely asking for permission, "May I have one? Please?"
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
"..Are you always this enjoyable?" Florence said with a cross of her arms. She had encountered many of those in The Configuration with slick mouths, but one of those people being her own blood was a first. Was this a cruel joke Ramona was playing on her? Why did she have to give her the only person out of the newbloods as snarky as her? Or better yet, was that exactly why? That damn woman is testing me, I just know it.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but again was cut off by Hector interjecting about the wine. Florence wasn't one for simpler alcohols. It was the strong stuff that gave her comfort, but tonight she had to be alert; Which meant no drinks for her. At least, not right now. She fully intended in drowning her senses with her own guilty pleasures after tonight. She didn't blame the man for wanting the same; Frankly, he earned it. Florence would be lying if she said she didn't feel at least a small shred of sympathy. She had sat through one of these games too, many years ago. She knew how it affected the mind-- Not just taking a life, but this game. The hold Ajax had on people. It was.. infectious, a permeating virus taking control of them by force.
Her look became hollow and dejected, her head tilted back slightly, "..Sorry. I thought you meant real booze."
Then he asked about smokes. Florence felt a small twinge of remorse course through her body; She had just given the last one to Tess.
"I, uh.." She searched her various pockets for awhile, but ultimately came up empty, "I don't have anymore, I'm sorry. I'm sure one of them do, though." She jabbed her thumb at the slew of workers cleaning around them.
Just as she was about to walk out of the kitchen with her newborn in tow, Tess had caught onto the fact that those items-- The flask and cigarette-- had came from her deceased person. Florence's expression became sheepish, with a guilty smile spread wide across her face.
"In my defense, you were already dead. I didn't think Ramona would want you back, so I just.. helped myself." She threw up her hands casually, "But, I'm sure you can relate, eh smuggler?"
Vampunk
shadowz1995
She opened her mouth to speak again, but again was cut off by Hector interjecting about the wine. Florence wasn't one for simpler alcohols. It was the strong stuff that gave her comfort, but tonight she had to be alert; Which meant no drinks for her. At least, not right now. She fully intended in drowning her senses with her own guilty pleasures after tonight. She didn't blame the man for wanting the same; Frankly, he earned it. Florence would be lying if she said she didn't feel at least a small shred of sympathy. She had sat through one of these games too, many years ago. She knew how it affected the mind-- Not just taking a life, but this game. The hold Ajax had on people. It was.. infectious, a permeating virus taking control of them by force.
Her look became hollow and dejected, her head tilted back slightly, "..Sorry. I thought you meant real booze."
Then he asked about smokes. Florence felt a small twinge of remorse course through her body; She had just given the last one to Tess.
"I, uh.." She searched her various pockets for awhile, but ultimately came up empty, "I don't have anymore, I'm sorry. I'm sure one of them do, though." She jabbed her thumb at the slew of workers cleaning around them.
Just as she was about to walk out of the kitchen with her newborn in tow, Tess had caught onto the fact that those items-- The flask and cigarette-- had came from her deceased person. Florence's expression became sheepish, with a guilty smile spread wide across her face.
"In my defense, you were already dead. I didn't think Ramona would want you back, so I just.. helped myself." She threw up her hands casually, "But, I'm sure you can relate, eh smuggler?"
Vampunk
shadowz1995
Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
For the briefest of moments, Tess' smirk disappeared completely from her face, taking her usually very charming dimples with it as she just glared at her maker in quiet judgement.
A part of her wanted to call Florence out for just swiping all of her stuff after she had ripped what had felt like a fist-sized chunk of flesh out of her throat, but it wasn't long for Tess to shrug with a faint chuckle.
"No hard feelings, it'd be really hypocritical of me to actually hold a grudge for this, out of the list of all the things I could possibly be mad at you for." The Serbian would remark with a toothy grin, revealing her pearly white ivories in a smile that covered almost half her face.
Her tone changed into a more serious one though as she raised an eyebrow at her maker, gesturing towards her pocket where she had hid the flask that looked suspiciously like her old one. Finally given a fresh coat of paint and probably having been given all the repairs Tess hadn't bothered with over the years.
"I'd like to get that thing back though, and before you call me petty or something along these lines, or worse; sentimental, yes, it's something I'd rather keep myself. For more than just its practical use."
Turning her attention away from Florence and towards the foyer, she'd let her fingers brush through her messy black hair as she inhaled deeply.
"Sheesh, now watch me ruin any kind of mood that might've helped after witnessing whatever that little freakshow was." Tess would mumble to herself, glancing over to her maker as she'd finally put her cigarette to her lips.
"Got a light? Doubt bloodsuckers can just conjure sparks up at will, that'd be the freakiest shit." The fledgling vampire mused with a crooked smirk.
"Anyhow, you haven't really filled me in all that thoroughly on what happens next. You just kinda nonchalantly told me I might die back there in the car, doubt that covers most of tonight's, and any following one's, program, eh?"
A part of her wanted to call Florence out for just swiping all of her stuff after she had ripped what had felt like a fist-sized chunk of flesh out of her throat, but it wasn't long for Tess to shrug with a faint chuckle.
"No hard feelings, it'd be really hypocritical of me to actually hold a grudge for this, out of the list of all the things I could possibly be mad at you for." The Serbian would remark with a toothy grin, revealing her pearly white ivories in a smile that covered almost half her face.
Her tone changed into a more serious one though as she raised an eyebrow at her maker, gesturing towards her pocket where she had hid the flask that looked suspiciously like her old one. Finally given a fresh coat of paint and probably having been given all the repairs Tess hadn't bothered with over the years.
"I'd like to get that thing back though, and before you call me petty or something along these lines, or worse; sentimental, yes, it's something I'd rather keep myself. For more than just its practical use."
Turning her attention away from Florence and towards the foyer, she'd let her fingers brush through her messy black hair as she inhaled deeply.
"Sheesh, now watch me ruin any kind of mood that might've helped after witnessing whatever that little freakshow was." Tess would mumble to herself, glancing over to her maker as she'd finally put her cigarette to her lips.
"Got a light? Doubt bloodsuckers can just conjure sparks up at will, that'd be the freakiest shit." The fledgling vampire mused with a crooked smirk.
"Anyhow, you haven't really filled me in all that thoroughly on what happens next. You just kinda nonchalantly told me I might die back there in the car, doubt that covers most of tonight's, and any following one's, program, eh?"
shadowz1995
Amoeba of Wisdom
The former athlete raised an eyebrow at Florence but ultinately shook his head and dropped the subject wordlessely. The only form of reply he gave was a soft 'Me too...' when the woman voiced her preference for the stronger stuff. Wine tasted good but it didn't do much for a man of Hector's size and weight.
What he could really use is scotch or tequila. But alas, beggers can't be choosers. So, vintage wine would do.
Hector cast his gaze down to the bottle in his hand and then in between the ladies conversing. He felt like a metaphorical- and very literal- elephant in the room. He eventually raised the bottle, as if he was giving toast to them, and took a more modest swig of the purple liquid before nodding to himself and heading towards the door came through. It was easier to just give them their privacy. What little conversation they did have seemed personal at best.
What he could really use is scotch or tequila. But alas, beggers can't be choosers. So, vintage wine would do.
Hector cast his gaze down to the bottle in his hand and then in between the ladies conversing. He felt like a metaphorical- and very literal- elephant in the room. He eventually raised the bottle, as if he was giving toast to them, and took a more modest swig of the purple liquid before nodding to himself and heading towards the door came through. It was easier to just give them their privacy. What little conversation they did have seemed personal at best.
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Florence watched the man go with a small shudder flowing down her spine. Death was one thing; She would always be used to death, but having it carried it out in a way that someone believed to be the only answer? It reminded her too much of the old days. Days she was, to this day, still trying to forget.
"Actually!" She blurted, reaching out to pull Tess back into the kitchen by her arm, "Why don't we, uh, stay in here? It's too crowded out there, anyway."
The vampire scoffed and shook her head. Getting through tonight was going to require a lot more than booze and cigarettes. If there is a God, give me some fucking strength.
"..Anyone ever tell that guy he makes a damn strong first impression?" She said, indicating to Hector as he left with a nod of her head.
She felt around her pockets for the flask. Truth be told, it was a nice find, but nothing that couldn't be easily replaced. If only the same could be said for so many other tools in her arsenal-- Memories, in particular. It didn't help the fact that Tess had just mentioned the ability to conjure fire; Something Florence knew for a fact was possible. She grimaced, but quickly played it off with an amused chuckle. She tossed the flask to her kin casually, along with a silver zippo, and leaned back against the marble counter.
"With your record, I figured you'd try to mouth off on stage-- Get yourself canned. Can't blame a girl for dreaming, can you?" She laughed heartily, "In any case, I'm stuck with you now. Yay me. In terms of what happens next, well.." Florence let's the sentence trail off for a moment, a knowing smile resting daintily on her lips.
"..Got any good pick up lines?"
Vampunk
"Actually!" She blurted, reaching out to pull Tess back into the kitchen by her arm, "Why don't we, uh, stay in here? It's too crowded out there, anyway."
The vampire scoffed and shook her head. Getting through tonight was going to require a lot more than booze and cigarettes. If there is a God, give me some fucking strength.
"..Anyone ever tell that guy he makes a damn strong first impression?" She said, indicating to Hector as he left with a nod of her head.
She felt around her pockets for the flask. Truth be told, it was a nice find, but nothing that couldn't be easily replaced. If only the same could be said for so many other tools in her arsenal-- Memories, in particular. It didn't help the fact that Tess had just mentioned the ability to conjure fire; Something Florence knew for a fact was possible. She grimaced, but quickly played it off with an amused chuckle. She tossed the flask to her kin casually, along with a silver zippo, and leaned back against the marble counter.
"With your record, I figured you'd try to mouth off on stage-- Get yourself canned. Can't blame a girl for dreaming, can you?" She laughed heartily, "In any case, I'm stuck with you now. Yay me. In terms of what happens next, well.." Florence let's the sentence trail off for a moment, a knowing smile resting daintily on her lips.
"..Got any good pick up lines?"
Vampunk
Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
Being dragged back into the kitchen, Tess would shoot her maker a confused glance but Florence's face spoke louder than any words and the fledgling vampire knew not to question her decision, instead just straightening her waistcoat as she'd listen to the older vampire.
"Uh, yeah, he's a strange one, I give you that. Though I think all of use are various different shades of strange, makes me wonder who makes the bloody decision who to introduce into your little vampire petting zoo." Tess would remark, picking an imaginary piece of lettuce out of her porcelain ivories as she'd watch Hector disappear into the crowd.
"Though I have a hunch you guys know exactly how to put him, or rather us, huh, to good use." The Serbian would continue as she wondered just that. While she knew the inner workings of her particular line of work intimately and knew where and how to get information, she doubted they lacked vampires who brought just that to the table and finding her place in this new world would definitely require some time and effort.
'it's definitely better than running small contracts for even smaller fries.' Tess thought to herself. In a strange, very morbid way, her having been turned and basically been given an out from her shitty life was the best thing that could have possibly happened to her, however fucked it sounded to her. There was definitely more to be gained from working with those who guided the nightly affairs rather than trying to swim upstream in an attempt at competing with the bigger fish, and over night it seemed she had just been introduced into more dangerous waters.
Being brought back into reality by her maker tossing her the "borrowed" flask and a lighter, Tess managed to catch them just in the nick of time, raising an eyebrow as a soft growl escaped her lips.
"Careful with that thing..." She'd chuckle as she'd examine the only friend she had when she was down, usually filled with all manners of strong booze.
The scratched silver canister had seemingly been fixed, various dents that had once covered its metallic surface having been ironed out and now gleamed in its newfound glory.
What had once been a dull gray surface now shone brightly in the Kitchen's light and its simple lid had been replaced by a more intricate, overly fancy design.
Weighing it in her grasp, she'd finally find what she had deemed lost during the process; a variety of names etched into its sides, all linked to different emotions and chapters of her rather eventful, but awfully brief life in the shadier parts of the smuggling business.
Letting go of a sigh as half of the names brought back some rather unpleasant memories of having to fight for even the puniest pay, Tess would pocket the flask before lighting a much needed cigarette, inhaling deeply as she soon blew a cloud of smoke through her nose.
Listening to her maker, Tess couldn't help herself but warm up to the idea that they'd have to put up with each other's shit for the foreseeable future as the Serbian would join in on her laughter.
"Well, I'm so sorry to disappoint, but I thought I'd rather not steal Drevis' and Hector's show. Seems at least one of 'em wanted to make their maker proud, eh?" The fledgling vampire would chuckle, taking another puff of her smoke.
"But yeah, seems the two of us can look forward to...however long a vampire's life is. At least we won't be sharing a coffin, that'd be the worst."
Florence's question caught her off guard, having expected some other snarky comment from her maker, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Pickup lines, huh?..."
Raising an eyebrow before letting go of a pensive hum, Tess would find herself trying to come up with whatever awful pickup line she had the displeasure to come in contact with...
And as a crooked, impish grin crept unto her face as she'd turn to face Florence.
Her hands, resting on her hips, pointing finger guns at her maker, Tess would wink at her in the most embarrassingly awkward way possible as she hit Florence with what she had just made up on the spot.
"Baby, are you British? 'Cause I'm gonna show you a bloody good time."
Obviously too happy with her ingenious idea of introducing her new vampiric predicament into her line, Tess awaited Florence's response.
"Oh i can do a lot worse, trust me."
"Uh, yeah, he's a strange one, I give you that. Though I think all of use are various different shades of strange, makes me wonder who makes the bloody decision who to introduce into your little vampire petting zoo." Tess would remark, picking an imaginary piece of lettuce out of her porcelain ivories as she'd watch Hector disappear into the crowd.
"Though I have a hunch you guys know exactly how to put him, or rather us, huh, to good use." The Serbian would continue as she wondered just that. While she knew the inner workings of her particular line of work intimately and knew where and how to get information, she doubted they lacked vampires who brought just that to the table and finding her place in this new world would definitely require some time and effort.
'it's definitely better than running small contracts for even smaller fries.' Tess thought to herself. In a strange, very morbid way, her having been turned and basically been given an out from her shitty life was the best thing that could have possibly happened to her, however fucked it sounded to her. There was definitely more to be gained from working with those who guided the nightly affairs rather than trying to swim upstream in an attempt at competing with the bigger fish, and over night it seemed she had just been introduced into more dangerous waters.
Being brought back into reality by her maker tossing her the "borrowed" flask and a lighter, Tess managed to catch them just in the nick of time, raising an eyebrow as a soft growl escaped her lips.
"Careful with that thing..." She'd chuckle as she'd examine the only friend she had when she was down, usually filled with all manners of strong booze.
The scratched silver canister had seemingly been fixed, various dents that had once covered its metallic surface having been ironed out and now gleamed in its newfound glory.
What had once been a dull gray surface now shone brightly in the Kitchen's light and its simple lid had been replaced by a more intricate, overly fancy design.
Weighing it in her grasp, she'd finally find what she had deemed lost during the process; a variety of names etched into its sides, all linked to different emotions and chapters of her rather eventful, but awfully brief life in the shadier parts of the smuggling business.
Letting go of a sigh as half of the names brought back some rather unpleasant memories of having to fight for even the puniest pay, Tess would pocket the flask before lighting a much needed cigarette, inhaling deeply as she soon blew a cloud of smoke through her nose.
Listening to her maker, Tess couldn't help herself but warm up to the idea that they'd have to put up with each other's shit for the foreseeable future as the Serbian would join in on her laughter.
"Well, I'm so sorry to disappoint, but I thought I'd rather not steal Drevis' and Hector's show. Seems at least one of 'em wanted to make their maker proud, eh?" The fledgling vampire would chuckle, taking another puff of her smoke.
"But yeah, seems the two of us can look forward to...however long a vampire's life is. At least we won't be sharing a coffin, that'd be the worst."
Florence's question caught her off guard, having expected some other snarky comment from her maker, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Pickup lines, huh?..."
Raising an eyebrow before letting go of a pensive hum, Tess would find herself trying to come up with whatever awful pickup line she had the displeasure to come in contact with...
And as a crooked, impish grin crept unto her face as she'd turn to face Florence.
Her hands, resting on her hips, pointing finger guns at her maker, Tess would wink at her in the most embarrassingly awkward way possible as she hit Florence with what she had just made up on the spot.
"Baby, are you British? 'Cause I'm gonna show you a bloody good time."
Obviously too happy with her ingenious idea of introducing her new vampiric predicament into her line, Tess awaited Florence's response.
"Oh i can do a lot worse, trust me."
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Florence raised an eyebrow. Granted, it's not unreasonable to think they were about to be slaves for the rest of their immortal lives give the circumstances, but it was impractical. Had this been a couple hundred years ago, slaves would have been pretty useful. But in this modern age, with technology and weak minded humans, vampires were the ones in control.
"You're thinking a little small there, kiddo." She jabbed a thumb at the servants in the kitchen, "We have them for that. Watch this."
Florence leaned over and tapped the shoulder of the worker cleaning in the sink. Immediately pulling they're arms out of the bloodied soap water, they turned to face her. The face of the servants was blank; distant, as if caught in a deep trance. Florence smirked and waved her hand in front of their face, yet the servants didn't so much as flinch.
"Ajax charmed them all," She explained, comedically picking up the servants arm and letting it dropped back to their side, "A little trick we call Miasma. Makes'em do whatever we want."
She took a step back. Sure, it was pretty morbid enslaving humans to do your bidding, but that scarecely mattered to Ajax and most others at the party. Florence herself wasn't completely heartless; She understood the implications. These people probably had families. Regular lives they could be living out right now. Instead, they were prisoners in their own bodies, serving a secret society filled with creatures they thought to be works of fiction. In a way, she supposed this was how things should be-- After all, it was either her, or them. Heaven knows which she'd pick again and again if it meant survival.
There was a time where she fought the advancing vampiric forces and their inner workings, many years ago. But with time, it just became easier to let go. Learn to bend the rules and keep quiet while looking out for number one. And even then, giving in to what they wanted was the easiest.
"..Dance for me." She finally said to the awaiting servant. On command, they began clicking their heels and flailing their arms in a comedic jig. She stopped them with a wave of her hands, chuckling to herself.
"You weren't saved so you could serve, kid. You were saved so you could rule."
She motioned to the very room they were standing in, "Say what you want about Ajax-- The guys a tool, egotistical, and pretty fucking crazy-- but he also knows how to keep us alive. It's by expanding our numbers; Living with the humans instead of hiding from them."
It was weird expressing any sort of praise for the man out loud. It was no secret among the rest of The Configuration what Ajax was like. Not only were they all painfully aware, but they despised him in silence. Yet at the same time, they needed him. It was his strength, power, and influence that gave them courage to live with the living. It was him that brought the families together to form an unbreakable bond. Independent of the skirmishes inside the organization itself, The Configuration was all they had.
".. Strength in numbers, yknow?" She shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets, "Doesn't change the fact the guys a prick, though. Don't, uh, tell him I said that."
Then Tess dropped a.. less than stellar pick up line. Florence blinked, expressionless. To be honest, she wasn't expecting much, anyways.. Fuck you, Ramona.
"Yeah, uh... We'll work on that. Anything else you'd like to know? I'm sure you got jucier questions in that melon of yours."
Vampunk
"You're thinking a little small there, kiddo." She jabbed a thumb at the servants in the kitchen, "We have them for that. Watch this."
Florence leaned over and tapped the shoulder of the worker cleaning in the sink. Immediately pulling they're arms out of the bloodied soap water, they turned to face her. The face of the servants was blank; distant, as if caught in a deep trance. Florence smirked and waved her hand in front of their face, yet the servants didn't so much as flinch.
"Ajax charmed them all," She explained, comedically picking up the servants arm and letting it dropped back to their side, "A little trick we call Miasma. Makes'em do whatever we want."
She took a step back. Sure, it was pretty morbid enslaving humans to do your bidding, but that scarecely mattered to Ajax and most others at the party. Florence herself wasn't completely heartless; She understood the implications. These people probably had families. Regular lives they could be living out right now. Instead, they were prisoners in their own bodies, serving a secret society filled with creatures they thought to be works of fiction. In a way, she supposed this was how things should be-- After all, it was either her, or them. Heaven knows which she'd pick again and again if it meant survival.
There was a time where she fought the advancing vampiric forces and their inner workings, many years ago. But with time, it just became easier to let go. Learn to bend the rules and keep quiet while looking out for number one. And even then, giving in to what they wanted was the easiest.
"..Dance for me." She finally said to the awaiting servant. On command, they began clicking their heels and flailing their arms in a comedic jig. She stopped them with a wave of her hands, chuckling to herself.
"You weren't saved so you could serve, kid. You were saved so you could rule."
She motioned to the very room they were standing in, "Say what you want about Ajax-- The guys a tool, egotistical, and pretty fucking crazy-- but he also knows how to keep us alive. It's by expanding our numbers; Living with the humans instead of hiding from them."
It was weird expressing any sort of praise for the man out loud. It was no secret among the rest of The Configuration what Ajax was like. Not only were they all painfully aware, but they despised him in silence. Yet at the same time, they needed him. It was his strength, power, and influence that gave them courage to live with the living. It was him that brought the families together to form an unbreakable bond. Independent of the skirmishes inside the organization itself, The Configuration was all they had.
".. Strength in numbers, yknow?" She shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets, "Doesn't change the fact the guys a prick, though. Don't, uh, tell him I said that."
Then Tess dropped a.. less than stellar pick up line. Florence blinked, expressionless. To be honest, she wasn't expecting much, anyways.. Fuck you, Ramona.
"Yeah, uh... We'll work on that. Anything else you'd like to know? I'm sure you got jucier questions in that melon of yours."
Vampunk
Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
Taking a step back and watching her maker toy with the enthralled slaves that followed Florence's every whim, Tess barely managed to fight the urge to tell her to stop.
Under any other circumstance, or rather back when she still had mortal blood pumping through her veins, the Serbian Smuggler would have stood up for those poor souls and barked a few undignified curses at Florence for treating them in such a cruel way.
But tonight something had changed, and Tess merely watched the show with another deep breath of tobacco that would utterly fail at causing her immortal lungs any lasting problems, exhaling thick fumes through her nose as she'd let go of a somewhat amused grunt.
"Huh, seems like you guys did think of everything. Do they go grocery shopping during the day and do they dig their own graves too?" The newly turned vampire asked with a chuckle as she'd let her eyes wander over the many bleak faces of the mansion's servants. They seemed utterly unaware of what was happening to them, or even who they were, just perfect marionettes of flesh and bone. In a twisted way it made sense to her, it wouldn't have been any different if they were dead and it was a somewhat...humane...way of putting them to use.
Her dark eyes found the gauges on their arms and she took another puff of her cigarette, almost having burnt down to its butt in the meantime.
"I reckon they're not walking buffets though, eh? Do you...erm, we, even go around biting people's necks for a quick drink nowadays or is sipping from fine crystal the norm?" Tess asked, watching the nigh endless stream of servants carrying stained glasses inside...and freshly filled ones outside.
But then something Florence said struck a vein, and something inside Tess seemed to change at her words.
She wasn't saved to serve...but to rule.
It had never even occurred to her, having always been the one taking orders and doing other people's dirty work, but it seemed those days were past now.
She had thought of her being reborn as a vampire as merely a change of scenery, like moving from one job to the other, but now it turned out that their makers had other things in mind for their freshly turned children.
"Welcome to the family, welcome to the future, huh? Didn't quite think about it that way." Tess muttered as she put out her cigarette on her bare palm, as if trying to make sure this was real.
Gritting her teeth at the faint burning sensation on her cool skin before flicking the butt of her smoke into a nearby bin.
Her eyes would examine her hand but were not able to find any kind of burn before she just raised her gaze to meet Florence's.
"Don't worry, if things go the way I want 'em to I'd be able to keep my interactions with Ajax to a bloody bare minimum, the guy's certainly...something."
A crooked grin, almost too big to fit unto her face, would come spreading from one pierced ear to the other as she'd take a step closer to her maker, as if finally more comfortable in the vampire's vicinity.
"Yeah, guess I won't need those kinds of cheap lines anymore, seeing that it's a completely different crowd I'd be dealing with here, huh? Do I need to come to terms with the idea that I'll need to behave in a way that'll make you proud now or are we going to just cut to the part where you're gonna tell me how to do that myself?" Tess would chuckle, raising an eyebrow at Florence as she'd adjust her waistcoat, resting her hands in her pockets.
"So let me ask you how exactly we're going to go about that, or rather how does one go from being a plague-carrying, buck-teethed Nosferatu to sitting comfortable in Castle Dracula?"
Under any other circumstance, or rather back when she still had mortal blood pumping through her veins, the Serbian Smuggler would have stood up for those poor souls and barked a few undignified curses at Florence for treating them in such a cruel way.
But tonight something had changed, and Tess merely watched the show with another deep breath of tobacco that would utterly fail at causing her immortal lungs any lasting problems, exhaling thick fumes through her nose as she'd let go of a somewhat amused grunt.
"Huh, seems like you guys did think of everything. Do they go grocery shopping during the day and do they dig their own graves too?" The newly turned vampire asked with a chuckle as she'd let her eyes wander over the many bleak faces of the mansion's servants. They seemed utterly unaware of what was happening to them, or even who they were, just perfect marionettes of flesh and bone. In a twisted way it made sense to her, it wouldn't have been any different if they were dead and it was a somewhat...humane...way of putting them to use.
Her dark eyes found the gauges on their arms and she took another puff of her cigarette, almost having burnt down to its butt in the meantime.
"I reckon they're not walking buffets though, eh? Do you...erm, we, even go around biting people's necks for a quick drink nowadays or is sipping from fine crystal the norm?" Tess asked, watching the nigh endless stream of servants carrying stained glasses inside...and freshly filled ones outside.
But then something Florence said struck a vein, and something inside Tess seemed to change at her words.
She wasn't saved to serve...but to rule.
It had never even occurred to her, having always been the one taking orders and doing other people's dirty work, but it seemed those days were past now.
She had thought of her being reborn as a vampire as merely a change of scenery, like moving from one job to the other, but now it turned out that their makers had other things in mind for their freshly turned children.
"Welcome to the family, welcome to the future, huh? Didn't quite think about it that way." Tess muttered as she put out her cigarette on her bare palm, as if trying to make sure this was real.
Gritting her teeth at the faint burning sensation on her cool skin before flicking the butt of her smoke into a nearby bin.
Her eyes would examine her hand but were not able to find any kind of burn before she just raised her gaze to meet Florence's.
"Don't worry, if things go the way I want 'em to I'd be able to keep my interactions with Ajax to a bloody bare minimum, the guy's certainly...something."
A crooked grin, almost too big to fit unto her face, would come spreading from one pierced ear to the other as she'd take a step closer to her maker, as if finally more comfortable in the vampire's vicinity.
"Yeah, guess I won't need those kinds of cheap lines anymore, seeing that it's a completely different crowd I'd be dealing with here, huh? Do I need to come to terms with the idea that I'll need to behave in a way that'll make you proud now or are we going to just cut to the part where you're gonna tell me how to do that myself?" Tess would chuckle, raising an eyebrow at Florence as she'd adjust her waistcoat, resting her hands in her pockets.
"So let me ask you how exactly we're going to go about that, or rather how does one go from being a plague-carrying, buck-teethed Nosferatu to sitting comfortable in Castle Dracula?"
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Florence watched her reaction with a bemused chuckle. She decided to leave out the part where humans are painfully aware of their enchanted existence, but are overall powerless to stop it. That.. probably wouldn't go over well with anyone.
"For the most part," She said with a laugh, "We try not to go out during the day. Makes us sick. It's good to have a few randoms around for that."
She didn't know how to mention the fact they did, in fact, siphon blood from the servants. Some of them had even been serving at the mansion for several years-- Long enough to replenish their supply of the hunger-sating substance. That was what those ports were for, after all; Walking kegs, at their disposal for whenever they needed a drink. Though on paper the process was practical, sometimes the usual intake would become dry, and take several days to be fully stocked yet again. Florence gave a half-hearted chuckle; It was pretty sick in it's own way.
"..Yes and no," She said, rubbing the back of her neck, "What you all have been, uh, drinking tonight.. was from them. But personally, I like to hunt for my meals." Florence shrugged. She pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled up a string of texts from some obscure dating app-- It looked like she was attempting to meet with someone later tonight, but the party in question never responded. Was that what had her looking angry earlier? "It's tough work, but better than sitting on your ass having it handed to you," She shoved her phone back into her pocket and began gesturing to both Tess and herself with her hands, "I mean, we're freaking vampires, man. When are we going to start acting like it?"
Florence shook her head, "As long as you don't piss me off, we'll get along fine."
Her eyes lit up at Tess' question about the prospect of success yet to be obtained. The elder vampire casually slung her arm around her child's shoulder, giving it playful shake and a small laugh, "I'm glad you asked, kiddo. Why don't you and I talk somewhere a little more private? The big man's office is upstairs."
Vampunk
"For the most part," She said with a laugh, "We try not to go out during the day. Makes us sick. It's good to have a few randoms around for that."
She didn't know how to mention the fact they did, in fact, siphon blood from the servants. Some of them had even been serving at the mansion for several years-- Long enough to replenish their supply of the hunger-sating substance. That was what those ports were for, after all; Walking kegs, at their disposal for whenever they needed a drink. Though on paper the process was practical, sometimes the usual intake would become dry, and take several days to be fully stocked yet again. Florence gave a half-hearted chuckle; It was pretty sick in it's own way.
"..Yes and no," She said, rubbing the back of her neck, "What you all have been, uh, drinking tonight.. was from them. But personally, I like to hunt for my meals." Florence shrugged. She pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled up a string of texts from some obscure dating app-- It looked like she was attempting to meet with someone later tonight, but the party in question never responded. Was that what had her looking angry earlier? "It's tough work, but better than sitting on your ass having it handed to you," She shoved her phone back into her pocket and began gesturing to both Tess and herself with her hands, "I mean, we're freaking vampires, man. When are we going to start acting like it?"
Florence shook her head, "As long as you don't piss me off, we'll get along fine."
Her eyes lit up at Tess' question about the prospect of success yet to be obtained. The elder vampire casually slung her arm around her child's shoulder, giving it playful shake and a small laugh, "I'm glad you asked, kiddo. Why don't you and I talk somewhere a little more private? The big man's office is upstairs."
Vampunk
Damafaud
Kitty
Once he had the door of the library to his back, Drevis walked not so calmly toward the kitchen. The hint of a smile on his face was strained. The dark red suit exerted heavy pressure on his shoulders. Too much. It was as if he was standing in front of a demon king and a demon general who was planning a rebellion approached him. Unfortunately, he was no hero of humanity. He was a newly manifesting minion with little influence in the fucking aristocratic demon world.
...he started swearing again. He must be more on edge than he thought he was.
Drevis went all over the foyer and entered the kitchen. He wanted a drink. Something light on alcohol. In fact, no alcohol at all would be better. Getting wasted was the last thing he needed and he didn't trust himself to stop at 'slightly tipsy'.
The human servants would make him raise an eyebrow if only he didn't have heavier matters in mind. Drevis grabbed hold of a chair and snatched a glass out of a prepared tray with a mumble of excuse. The serving girl didn't even blink. He raised the glass to his lips and drank. Undefined sweetness flowed down his throat. He savoured the taste before he downed the glass in several big gulps before reaching for a second glass. He took it slower this time.
Quarter way through his second glass, someone else barged into the kitchen, fuming. Drevis recognised him as Daedric, the vampire that drove him to the mansion. When their eyes met, Drevis slightly raised his glass in his direction.
"Not to assume anything, but would you care for a drink?"
He gestured toward the glasses on the marble counter.
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Daedric stopped in his tracks when he saw his previous passenger, sipping on his second drink. Damn, he looked pretty shaken. Did the guy see a ghost or something? He scoffed again and took a glass from one of the servants trays.
"Where does that bitch get off?" He grumbled to himself, taking one large gulp, "Slapping me in front of everyone like that.. I got half a mind to show her how pissed off she makes me sometimes.."
Daedric leaned against the counter. When a servant moved around him to grab a tray of drinks, he stopped them by roughly grabbing hold of their forearm. He jerked them back to his side, and spoke harshly through clenched teeth.
"Get me a bigger glass, for God's sake. Not these weak little sippy cups you call wine glasses."
The servant obeyed without a word, reaching into a nearby cabinet to fill a tall glass for him. He snatched it out of their hands and eagerly drank it's entire contents, slamming it back down onto the counter with a grunt. After wiping away the bloody mustache left behind, he shot a look at Drevis.
"What's up with you, man? You look like shit."
Damafaud
"Where does that bitch get off?" He grumbled to himself, taking one large gulp, "Slapping me in front of everyone like that.. I got half a mind to show her how pissed off she makes me sometimes.."
Daedric leaned against the counter. When a servant moved around him to grab a tray of drinks, he stopped them by roughly grabbing hold of their forearm. He jerked them back to his side, and spoke harshly through clenched teeth.
"Get me a bigger glass, for God's sake. Not these weak little sippy cups you call wine glasses."
The servant obeyed without a word, reaching into a nearby cabinet to fill a tall glass for him. He snatched it out of their hands and eagerly drank it's entire contents, slamming it back down onto the counter with a grunt. After wiping away the bloody mustache left behind, he shot a look at Drevis.
"What's up with you, man? You look like shit."
Damafaud
Damafaud
Kitty
I just met the ex-lover of my blood father and she is as mad as he is and I'm not sure I can stay uninvolved in their lover quarrel now that I know a side I'm not supposed to know.
...was what he wanted to say, but the implication of the sentence was not friendly to his mortality rate. Instead, Drevis raised an eyebrow at Daedric and returned the ball to his court.
"I can say the same about you. The crowd here is not as friendly as humans."
He took another sip from his glass. The protuding fangs from his gum made a clink when it hit the mouth of the glass. Slowly fade the topic of conversation, and turn it away from himself. He was new as a vampire, but talking about someone who opposed a leading figure of the current society sounded like a bad move. Even more so since from what he read between the line of his conversation with Gwenhwyfar LaVey, she wasn't supposed to be alive.
"I had a short conversation with a guest. What I found about my... blood father rattled me up inside, to put it in a way."
Another sip. Was blood father the right term? He turned his eyes to Daedric. He was the first person to tell him about Ajax.
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Daedric beckoned the servant to fill his glass again, and when they did, he took a large gulp. He chuckled at Drevis' statement.
"Yeah well, you better toughen up. There's a lot about the guy that'll make you uncomfortable, just gotta learn to get over it."
Truthfully, Daedric still didn't know everything there was to know about Ajax. He was one of the younger vamps, possibly only a few decades, but no older than a hundred years. He was still considerded a baby to the rest of the vampire world. There were still secrets that even he had yet to unlock. A small part of him wasn't even sure he wanted to. Being Emmulsia's son was a handful in of itself, playing spy would only make things worse.
Though, one thing did intrigue him..
"Didn't see you out there in the foyer. Where'd you go? Get spooked after the game and dipped, eh?" He asked innocently, leaning over to rest his elbows on the countertop.
Damafaud
"Yeah well, you better toughen up. There's a lot about the guy that'll make you uncomfortable, just gotta learn to get over it."
Truthfully, Daedric still didn't know everything there was to know about Ajax. He was one of the younger vamps, possibly only a few decades, but no older than a hundred years. He was still considerded a baby to the rest of the vampire world. There were still secrets that even he had yet to unlock. A small part of him wasn't even sure he wanted to. Being Emmulsia's son was a handful in of itself, playing spy would only make things worse.
Though, one thing did intrigue him..
"Didn't see you out there in the foyer. Where'd you go? Get spooked after the game and dipped, eh?" He asked innocently, leaning over to rest his elbows on the countertop.
Damafaud
Damafaud
Kitty
"The thought of mingling with strangers right after the game was... intimidating. I looked for a quiet room and the library was a safe haven."
His eyes lingered on the bustle of the servants for a while. Their movement was almost mechanical. Like machines on assembly line or trained slaves. He knew. He had seen slaves before, though the practise had been discouraged in modern age. Would his fate be any better than the servants? His thought went back to Gwenhwyfar Lavey, and the storm she would bring in the future. How should he treat this knowledge?
"Well, safe until another guest found me, at least. As I said earlier, the topic of our conversation was not very pleasant."
Drevis downed the drink in one gulp. Curse the covulted vendetta between Ajax Dygarius and his lover. He hadn't even heard the general situation in the society itself. Was Ajax really a leader accepted by everyone? If yes, everything was simple and straightforward. If not, everything could be as complicated as England bureaucracy and he wouldn't complain.
"Is Ajax Dygarius truly the leader of this society? Unchallenged and whatnot?"
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Daedric took a minute to think. Granted, he wasn't the smartest person around. Not to mention he had only been around for about 60 years or so. He was incredibly young by vampire standards, and his knowledge of the Configuration and it's dealings was pretty limited. He scratched his chin with a furrowed brow.
"Hard to say. You get a guy like Ajax, lotsa power and whatnot, running the show and you're bound to find others who aren't so keen, y'know? That's just business."
He shrugged. Truthfully, he hadn't really heard any rumors. No hushed tones in back alleys scheming with one another. If anything, he and Emma were enthusiastic about Ajax's influence. He was the one who gave them the much needed boost to stop living in hiding. It was hard to pinpoint who would be most likely to turn on him. Everyone here had a motive, in one way or another. Despite that, the general consensus was that Ajax was a good leader. ..Though, he knew of at least one person that was shamelessly outspoken against him.
"..That Lance guy," He grunted, "Emma's brother. He parades around like some enlightened prick. Thinks he's too good for us. There's probably more like him, but are just a buncha cowards."
He sips his drink again, swirling the mixture in his hand, "If you're asking me if he's got any enemies, sure. Lots of 'em. From what I hear, most of them are dead, though.
"Ajax just runs our little group, but there's probably other families across the globe we haven't met yet. We're called The Configuration."
Damafaud
"Hard to say. You get a guy like Ajax, lotsa power and whatnot, running the show and you're bound to find others who aren't so keen, y'know? That's just business."
He shrugged. Truthfully, he hadn't really heard any rumors. No hushed tones in back alleys scheming with one another. If anything, he and Emma were enthusiastic about Ajax's influence. He was the one who gave them the much needed boost to stop living in hiding. It was hard to pinpoint who would be most likely to turn on him. Everyone here had a motive, in one way or another. Despite that, the general consensus was that Ajax was a good leader. ..Though, he knew of at least one person that was shamelessly outspoken against him.
"..That Lance guy," He grunted, "Emma's brother. He parades around like some enlightened prick. Thinks he's too good for us. There's probably more like him, but are just a buncha cowards."
He sips his drink again, swirling the mixture in his hand, "If you're asking me if he's got any enemies, sure. Lots of 'em. From what I hear, most of them are dead, though.
"Ajax just runs our little group, but there's probably other families across the globe we haven't met yet. We're called The Configuration."
Damafaud
Damafaud
Kitty
"I see."
The presence of other families was interesting, but not essential at that moment. His hand moved to grab another glass, but Drevis stopped himself. No more drinking for now. His alcohol tolerance was not among the average. In fact, he would be better off with no drink for the rest of the night. Drevis grabbed the shoulder of a passing waitress firmly, breaking her out of her mechanical movement. The woman staggered when he pulled her, as if she didn't notice his hand reaching for her.
"Fetch me a glass of water. No alcohol," then as an afterthought, he changed his request. "Forget that. Just bring me blood."
Sweeter than sugar, sober like a lawyer. Blood could be his favourite drink for sure. The servant brought him one of the artistic glasses prepared for the foyer, and he accepted it with a nod. He turned again to Daedric, feeling better with drink in his vessels. A sip from his glass rejuvenated his spirit. Heavenly. The word sounded silly outloud, but he thought it fit the taste aptly.
"By any chance, do I need to be wary of this Emma? Who is she?"
mothspit
ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
Daedric laughed. The kid stood on stage with the most dangerous person in the entire valley, and he was asking if Emma was someone to look out for? Sure, it wasn't an unreasonable question, but still funny.
"I don't know, man," Was his honest, light-hearted answer, "You're probably her type. Got that dope red suit.. She likes people with a good fashion sense."
He made a grand gesture to himself. Leather jacket, dark underclothing, metal accessories and a pair of study combat boots to match. As if to say 'couldnt you tell?' He wasn't the definition of fashion.. But maybe it'd be better to just let him think so. Daedric really liked Emma, even if she cold-cocked him for everyone to see. A huge part of him really hoped she liked him, too. They had their ups and downs, but in the end, she was always there. Even when others weren't.
"She runs a little formal wear shop not too far from here, but more importantly she's my girl. Got any other questions for me, Mr. Law Man?"
Damafaud
"I don't know, man," Was his honest, light-hearted answer, "You're probably her type. Got that dope red suit.. She likes people with a good fashion sense."
He made a grand gesture to himself. Leather jacket, dark underclothing, metal accessories and a pair of study combat boots to match. As if to say 'couldnt you tell?' He wasn't the definition of fashion.. But maybe it'd be better to just let him think so. Daedric really liked Emma, even if she cold-cocked him for everyone to see. A huge part of him really hoped she liked him, too. They had their ups and downs, but in the end, she was always there. Even when others weren't.
"She runs a little formal wear shop not too far from here, but more importantly she's my girl. Got any other questions for me, Mr. Law Man?"
Damafaud
Damafaud
Kitty
"That's a relief, then."
Drevis chuckled at his own silliness. He should really try to relax more. Not every vampire he met would be a monster. Only the top figures. And his interaction had been with the top of the top. No wonder everything felt so grim. It was a weight off his chest. Daedric was not as detached as Gwenhwyfar was. Closer to humans. And if he was the average among vampires, it wouldn't be unbearable.
"Just one last question then," Drevis turned serious. "Where do I sleep toni- today?"
Going back to his state-of-the-art apartment would be his own choice, but he was, after all, legally dead. Dead man couldn't use an elevator or enter twelve digits code into his private haven. He would check into a hotel, but somehow he doubted his wallet would be returned.
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