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Post by shades on Dec 18, 2017 12:33:29 GMT -5
Anxiety mixes in his stomach, wringing like a wet towel. Nathnael steps forward to stand next to Alistair, the biting wind cutting through his suit easily; but he resisted the urge to cross his arms to preserve the heat. Bright eyes stared forward at the glow of the city, knowing that Alistair was awaiting an answer through the silence. βMy father taught me the nuances of hunting before I could walk.β Nathanael says softly, not looking away from the glowing lights in the distance.
His own family had been part of the Society for awhile now, though it had began as merely βlike minded individualsβ helping out here and there on a hunt. Then it was extended stays for longer raids, and eventually simply being with the Stoker Society year-round. Of course, Nathanael hadnβt grown up around anyone; Nathanael grew up in a house where he was constantly on adventures away from home while in his own backyard. In any therapeutic session, it would suggest he was attempting to find a βhome away from homeβ or the perfect place to call home. Stuck in a stage of development, they would say as he continuously grew older with a certain thrive for exploration and consistent need to drive away from the constant struggles of childhood. It didnβt matter if it was fantasy adventure while on a hike through the woods while fighting vampires and cleanse the land, never being at school (making new friends and meeting new people whilst learning many things) and writing many papers, or an actual escapade to some far off land with savings and help from scholarly institutes. Simply, it wasnβt where he didnβt want to be; at a vineyard where he grew up.
He was almost glad when they moved with the Stoker Society, but still he got the fantastical itch to wander off; oft lost in thought.
βYou donβt have to be so polite, you know.β Nathanaelβs father had drilled it in his brain that vampireβs were the enemy. If it werenβt for the often short lifespan of hunters, his father would be storming out of the mansion at the thought of alliance. βI think if not for family, we both wouldnβt want any part in this mutual truce.β
Unfortunately, the Stoker Society was all he had. He welcomed the company, and the familiarity.
Nathanael ignores his instincts to βrunβ because Alistair has that look about him, and although his instincts is to withdraw, he continues to speak. βLike ripping off a band-aidβ he thinks, but his teeth chatter slightly (his hands gripping the railing in an act of defiance against the cold weather and cold Alistair).
Nathanael bobs his head, βYour sister, Petra, is formidable on her own. Sheβs lucky to have brothers having her back.β
They stay silent for a while, looking ahead as though gauging who will break the silence or who will attack the other first in loathing and spite. Nathanael moves his arms, resting them on the railing instead. βI havenβt seen her by the way, is she patrolling tonight with Grace?β
___________________________________________________
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 12:41:51 GMT -5
{ alright time to get to work on some replies!
and nah ghost i think elijah's gonna pop in soon you should toss rhysand gemma's way
omg poor petra XD she has no idea how much trouble she's causing }
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 18, 2017 12:56:14 GMT -5
( Wowzas! a lot happened while i was gone i should really catch up
i think i'm a little sick with a cold on top of that)
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 13:10:00 GMT -5
{ oh that reminds me serv! what if after the raid when the cops show up they find poor abbud and take him in for interrogation? }
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 18, 2017 13:17:14 GMT -5
( oh no! he'll crack like an egg! my poor baby </3 let's do it)
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 13:30:57 GMT -5
{ i hope petra realizes that's she definitely grounded after all of this }
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 13:50:50 GMT -5
{ "if you're gonna act like a spoiled teenager, you'll be treated like one! now go to your room!" }
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 14:09:08 GMT -5
{ and then she sneaks out the window }
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Post by shades on Dec 18, 2017 14:30:19 GMT -5
( thankfully though, the morgensterns have warned nathanael of her sneak out tenacity and he's leaning against the window already "if you're gonna be dumb I'd rather die in this dumb situation than by your brothers fangs" and follows. )
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Bisexual
Lea
Follow me to Sawgrassclan
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Post by Lea on Dec 18, 2017 14:50:33 GMT -5
the Stoker Home
This was a nightmare. Or at least, the makings of one. Her favorite place in the whole world was being infiltrated by vampires. Theresa huffed at her own appearance, Damn alliance. Her hand curled around her hair brush tightly, imaging it a knife, ready to take the life of a vampire. The image faded as she brought the brush to her head, taming her messy hair.
Theresa rose from her vanity, turning to the rest of her bed room, looking it over. Everything was in order, as it should be, and before exiting the room she slid a box out from under her bed. She pulled a key from her bra, unlocking the box and throwing it open. Within were an array of weapons, which she had collected over the past fifteen years. She scanned her options before grabbing a tiny silver blade. Her fingers wrapped around the hawthorn-carved handle, eyeing her reflection in the blade. She grinned before sliding the knife into the sheath around her calf.
Quickly, she locked the box and slid it back under her bed. She turned to her vanity once more, looking over her reflection. She was dressed in a black one shoulder maxi dress, her assets obvious; she wore matching black heels and her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, her lips were a dark burgundy color, the only thing closest to color on her body. She grinned at her reflection, before turning and striding out of the room.
The days leading up to this event had been hectic, the house had never been so clean, and she dreaded seeing the aftermath. It had been days since her last patrol as well and she was becoming anxious, she really wanted to get out there. Sure, being well rested was wonderful, but not as wonderful as a successful hunt.
Elegantly, she made her way down the stairs, eyeing guests as they arrived and mingled. She wondered where in the world her supposed partner was, but she didn't really care. If she bumped into him there would be some pleasantries - if you could call them that - and there would be the illusion that they were getting along. However, Theresa knew that as soon as the alliance was over she wouldn't be caught a hundred feet near the Morgenstern's, unless she was tearing out their throats. She made her way to where the bulk of the event was, studying the room as vampires mixed with the help, she crossed her arms and scowled, only breaking her scowl to politely request a drink from a server, "Thank you, dear," she said as he handed the drink, "Stay safe!" she added as he walked off, he looked confused but merely smiled.
[here's a craptastic starter for Theresa ~]
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 14:59:54 GMT -5
Something in Mickeyβs eyes flickered when Because Of Winn Dixie introduced herself. Amusement brightened his features, βHawthorn? Your nameβs Hawthorn?β A laugh bubbled to his lips and boiled over. βMaybe Iβll change my name to Silver.β He wondered briefly if she had chosen the name for herself or if fate had simply picked her out for the irony of it all. Either way, Mickey actually liked it.
Hawthorn moseyed on her way before Mickey could ponder the circumstances of her name any further. His attention returned to Petra Morgenstern, idly sipping her beer. Mickey tried not to recoil at the smell. Heightened senses were rarely a blessing when you werenβt hunting. Every little thing was magnified tenfold. His gaze wandered to the cocktail menu, glanced over the rainbow row of liquor bottles against the back wall. Why anyone would choose beer of that spectrum was beyond Mickey.
βPetra it is, then,β he agreed and finished off his vodka just in time for the bartender to bring out the good stuff. Nothing said New Years Eve like vodka with glitter in it.
βIβm serious about the blood, though,β Mickey said, eyeing Petra over the brim of his glass, βIf thereβs even a spot of the stuff on these pants by the end of the night I will lose my goddamn mind.β The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the Cashmere Incident. Shaving his head was an overreaction he would never regret.
He continued, setting his drink aside, βIβm here because I live here, sweetheart.β It wasnβt a direct answer, nor was it an outright lie. Like the rest of Mickey, it was vague. The truth was he could think of nowhere else to go. He hadnβt chosen Hype because it was a hotspot for easy prey. Nor had he chosen it because there were others of his kind for him to find companionship in. He came to Hype because what was there to keep him away? No friends. No family. No plans. The bouncer knew him. The bartender served him. Thatβs all Mickey needed.
After a moment of staring out over the dance floor, he glanced back at Petra in time to catch her sneaking a peek at his neck. Or trying to, at least. A crooked smirk twitched his lips. He tossed his feather boa back around his neck, βIβm afraid there isnβt much to see, dear. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.β
As if heβd let someone like Petra Morgenstern so much as glimpse his neck. Special occasion or not, she was the Morgensternβs Princess. The only thing keeping him safe was nobody knowing what to make of him. Especially not the Morgensterns.
Suddenly anxious, Mickey steered the conversation back to Petra. βAnd what about you, Petra? I donβt know much about the Morgensterns, but Iβm sure theyβre not happy with your choice of venues this evening. Shouldnβt you be, I donβt know, sipping wine and playing board games or whatever it is your family does on New Years?β The image of the Morgenstern Coven playing Monopoly was ridiculous. But it was rare to find someone like Petra prowling nightclubs. Mickey had been under the impression that the princess was kept under lock and key to the point that she didnβt even know what a glow stick was.
At least that would explain why she was drinking beer.
Bright eyes flicked to the door in time to glimpse a redhead stumbling in, clutching her neck. The scent of blood hit him like a tsunami. Punched his gut. He could see the ruby liquid seeping between her fingers. His gut twisted. He whipped around, sinking his fangs into his lip. Mickey was above picking up somebodyβs leftovers. The girl was already bitten. Soon sheβd either be dead or one of them.
He nodded in her direction, βLooks like someoneβs having a rough night.β He laughed it off and downed his vodka.
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 15:30:02 GMT -5
{ i'm finishing phoebe's form and she's officially phoebe keddie now this is what you've wrought, shades }
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Post by πΎππππππππ on Dec 18, 2017 16:05:17 GMT -5
( *cracks knuckles* Rhys is gonna be so fun to write for )
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Post by shades on Dec 18, 2017 16:06:29 GMT -5
[ well it gives me an excuse to bring in Mitchie, not as a main unless he ends up that way, and he'll be so adorable! I'm thinking human Mitchie becomes a secretary. Or a hairstylist! Maybe he's Mickey's hairstylist and it's a small world after all. And he dabbles in special effects art but he's mostly doing teenage prom make-up. What a babe. Mickey may flirt with him and he hums and is all: "I'm married" and he's like: "who is the lucky man" and he laughs and says "she's adorable little spit-fire who could clock Donald Trump if you let her." ]
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 16:21:46 GMT -5
{ i'm excited for rhys
and then mickey goes home and cries because he was so close to having a boyfriend that could do his hair and make-up flawlessly
he keeps flirting with him tho nothing will stop him }
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Post by πΎππππππππ on Dec 18, 2017 19:18:21 GMT -5
.R . βDid you hear?β
βHear what?β
βThat Gemma Wildeβs going to infiltrate the Morgensternβs party with the Stokers!β
Rhysand went still, golden eyes flashing with a deep-set irritation. Heβd been peacefully walking down the street, on his wait to meet the woman in question at the popular night-club Hype. Rhysand wasnβt particularly fond of the club scene, but Gemma had a tendency to get herself in trouble, so heβd follow her there β just like he always did. Her guard dog; her Shadow, that tracked her every movement. And now he was hearing that sheβd gone and thrown herself into the lionβs den β and for what? An adrenaline rush? He ground his teeth together so hard he was almost certain heβd crack his fangs in twain. God, one of these days he was going to kill her.
βWhy?β the second voice prompted.
βNot sure. Thereβs a lot of theories, though.β
βLike what?β
βThat sheβs suicidal, considering sheβs going into the Morgensternβs nest. That isnβt the one I believe, though.β
βYea, thereβs no way Gemmaβs suicidal. Sheβs way too crazy for that.β
βThe rumor I believe is that sheβs the Morgensternβs new wh-re. Think about it: why else would she risk going there? If sheβs sleeping with one of them, sheβd be safe.β
Rhysβ back teeth locked, and something dark stirred within him. He wasnβt particularly able to control rumors, but heβd be damned if he let ones such as those get spread around. In one smooth motion, Rhysand stepped out from the shadows, settling his molten gold gaze on the pair. They started, whirling to meet the newcomer. They narrowed their eyes at him, taking in his appearance. Over the years, Rhys had kept to himself for the most part; Gemma was probably the only person who could recognize him by sight rather than name. It was Rhysandβs name that was notorious; the wild, feral vampire just as prone to tearing out someoneβs heart with his bare hand as he was to paying them little mind. This pair clearly hadnβt seen him before; judging by the scars on their necks, they were bitten vampires. Rhysandβs nostrils flared; they stunk of alcohol and blood and sex. They bared their teeth at Rhys, squaring their shoulders to make them seem bigger. Rhys snorted; it was a pathetic attempt.
βThere are few things I tolerate,β he stated, voice flat and emotionless. Only the burning gold of his gaze made it clear he was far away from pleased. βRumors of that caliber do not fall in that category.β
The taller vampire β who Rhys guessed was the first speaker β sneered at him, curling his lip back to reveal his fangs. βWhat are you gonna do about it, bud? Youβre on the wrong territory.β
Rhys nearly laughed. He let himself go; he removed the shroud that hid his true face from the world, the anchor that kept a lock on the predator within. His golden eyes flared.
Rhys smiled.
--
He frowned at what lay before him, studying the quivering mass that had once been two sentient life-forms. Well, somewhat sentient. He eyed the mess, scanning the alley to see the extent of his ferocity. Blood and gore splattered the brick walls of the alley, in a scene reminiscent of a slasher film. Rhys cocked his head, studying his work for a moment. For the amount of blood sprayed across the scene, very little β if any β had fallen upon Rhys. He inspected his hands, which were the only dirtied part of his body. It was unavoidable, really, when removing someoneβs heart from their thoracic cavity. So many vessels and arteries; so many muscles and bones and strands of cartilage to break through. He flexed his right hand, and turned and left. Chaos and death and blood was left in Rhysandβs wake, as was always the case when he let himself go.
He reached Hype, and went to enter the club. The bouncer took a look at him, at the feral, primal gleam in his eye, and let Rhys enter. He ignored everyone, stepping around humans and vampires alike. Booze and sweat and lust were heavy in the air, punctuated by the rich, coppery scent of blood. He glanced to his right, watching some female stagger towards what he assumed was the bathroom. Her hand was clasped over her throat in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding, but it was unsuccessful; her lifeβs blood bubbling up between her fingers and ran in weeping rivers down her hand and arm. He made a tsk sound to himself. Someone had been sloppy and hadnβt cleaned up after themselves. Judging by the looks of it, sheβd succumb to death or change into a vampire herself. She was in Fateβs hands now; nothing he could do, so he turned away and kept on his course. He washed his hands of the past hour, left the club, and went to the only one he could trust.
The security at the Morgensternβs party was somewhat intense, though Rhys had expected nothing less. A group of vampires and vampire hunters surely spelled trouble, didnβt it? Still, as he went to enter, the guards stopped him.
βName?β they prompted, glancing at a list clipped to a flat board held in one manβs hand. Rhys studied them for a moment, saying nothing. They stared back, and Rhys met their gaze unflinching, unblinking, for what seemed a long moment. He could sense their unease; some part of their animalistic hindbrain told them Rhysand was dangerous β a predator, lurking amongst the prey. Still, he had to give the one with the clipboard credit; he swallowed and maintained his courage for a moment longer.
βName?β he prompted again, although there was a slight quiver to his voice. Rhys simply smiled, and the guard paled another several shades when he looked into the vampireβs golden eyes. Whatever he saw there chilled him to the depths of his soul. Without another word, he stepped aside, looking away from Rhys. The vampireβs aura was pulsating with power, with a primal energy unchained. He took a breath, reigned it in, and put on a cool mask as he entered the party. He was somewhat dressed for it, thankfully; a pair of dark pants, a grey shirt, and a leather jacket. It wasnβt as fancy as some of the patrons, but he cared very little. He scanned the crowd, looking for someone in particular. He spotted her almost instantly, though sheβd done a good job at shielding her appearance. She looked nothing like her usual self, but Rhys had spent centuries with Gemma; he knew her nonverbal movements, the tilt of her mouth when she smiled, the crinkle of her eyes when she laughed. He could pick her out of any crowd. In one smooth movement, Rhys entered the crowd, although most of the patrons shifted to give him room. They sensed the beast lurking within, thinly veiled. Gemma was within reach now; his right hand extended, wrapped around her arm, and spun her into a hug. It was tight; he was clearly annoyed, though he could understand why sheβd kept her little plans secret. He wouldβve protested, and loudly.
βGood to see you again,β he rumbled, going along with her little charade. He couldnβt reveal her now, not in the heart of the viperβs nest. Heβd throttle her later. βItβs been far too long, hasnβt it?β
He was curious if sheβd use his real name; most vampire hunters probably knew it, since theyβd been trying to stake him for the past three hundred years. He was notorious, or so heβd heard.
Not that he cared.
They could try and stake him all they liked.
He always won.
Always.
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Post by πΎππππππππ on Dec 18, 2017 19:18:40 GMT -5
[ welp that was fun to write ]
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 18, 2017 19:27:05 GMT -5
Rhys is a dear. So charming!))
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 19:30:38 GMT -5
βI think if not for family, we both wouldnβt want any part in this mutual truce.β
Thatβs what all this boiled down to: family. Were it not for his father, the entire Morgenstern Coven would be elsewhere, doing as they pleased tonight. This allianceβ mistake that it was βwouldnβt exist. But it did exist. For that reason, they were supposed to cooperate, to be civil and friendly. It was a joke.
And yet, Alistair remained. He did what was expected of him, whether he liked it or not. All because of his family. Elijah and Christain and Petra.
He still remembered the night the old coven fell. He couldnβt have been more than sixteen years old and yet the image was forever rooted in his memory. Hunters these days were better equipped, but that hadnβt made the damage any less catastrophic. The weapon of choice in those days was fire. Humans liked the way is razed anything its path, devoured down to ash. Twenty noble vampire clans whittled down to nine by a nightmare. Of course, the villagers barely made it out alive. Some of them, at least.
Alliance or not, Alistair wouldnβt let humans get the best of the Morgenstern Coven for a second time.
The vampire watched in silence as his elder brother re-entered the party. He hadnβt even noticed Elijah until he was already gone. Unfortunate. Alistair had hoped to keep a better eye on his dear brother. The older vampire wasβ¦ Soft. He wasnβt keen on the alliance for different reasons. For one thing, Elijah didnβt despise bitten vampires the same way the rest of the coven did. He didnβt seem to have a problem with humans either.
It left a bitter taste in Alistairβs mouth. The thought that he would be the one to succeed their father as leader was appalling. Elijah wasnβt fit to be a Morgenstern, let alone lead the Morgenstern Coven.
All this evaporated as Nathanael spoke again.
Alistair blinked. βWhat did you say?β The words iced over with disbelief. βWhat do you mean you donβt know where Petra is?β Restraint came naturally to Alistair, but Petraβs absence was enough to make his poise slip an inch.
He steadied himself, combing a hand through his hair as he schooled his features into composure. βNathanael. Petra is not hunting with Grace. Which means she could be anywhere.β She could be falling into a bitten vampireβs trap. Or worse. He screwed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose as though massaging a headache.
That girl. That stupid, stupid girl.
βWe have to find her,β Alistair said at last. He didnβt rip Nathanaelβs head off like he should have. After all, as her partner, it was his job to keep an eye on her and he couldnβt even be trusted with that much. Instead, he slipped back inside, gesturing to the hunter to follow him.
Theyβd figure this out.
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 19:35:33 GMT -5
{ ooooh we finally get to meet Rhys }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 18, 2017 19:39:32 GMT -5
Ugh I wanna bring Grace in so bad
Unfortunately, I'll be stuck here at work until late tonight. So, that'll have to wait till tomorrow))
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Post by πΎππππππππ on Dec 18, 2017 19:41:01 GMT -5
( heβs a doll lol )
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 19:41:57 GMT -5
{ but when grace gets involved we can crank the volume up to 11! }
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 18, 2017 19:47:06 GMT -5
( Woo! cranking up the heat in the club tonight because Grace is going to lead a raid and try to kill as many vampires as possible!
oh man rhys is certainly ruthless isn't he?)
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 18, 2017 20:10:26 GMT -5
{ oooooh gemma's in trouble~ everybody's gonna get scolded tonight }
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