Rose Red ]: Bar and Inn

[Natasha Silverbook]

The woman who now entered the bar could be called exotic, but to do so would be like calling the ocean damp. Her every feature was human and yet she exuded an intensely bestial energy. Her hair cascaded down the length her back, swaying with every soft touch of the evening breeze. It was whiter than snow in the heart of winter. In sharp contrast, her skin was the warm brown of sun baked clay. She wore a turtle neck of deep forest green which hugged her modest curves, a pair of blue jeans that had obviously seen years of travel, and a necklace of silver with a fragile glass orb hanging from it. Her build was that of a hunter's and she carried herself with the grace of a lioness in her prime. All of these features paled in comparison to the fierce power of her gaze. She had eyes the color of a morpho butterfly's wings. Eyes that appeared to perceive a person's very essence with a single glance.

Ash froze just inside the door and examined every corner of the room as she fidgeted with her necklace. She took a deep breath through her nose, noting the scent of sandalwood underneath the sharper "new house" tones. After a moment's consideration, she let out a sigh and visibly relaxed.

No hostile souls here. Not yet, at least.

The short woman made her way over to the middle of the bar and sat down. From her vantage point, the room was clearly visible. She could make a quick escape if she had to.

[[I apologize if this isn't up to your standard of RPing. I am getting back into it after a year's hiatus.]]

[Unruly Villain]

Undoubtedly had the night been beginning to spiral out of his control.

Always the submissive b***h to fate's cruelty. Could he have not one night of Poseidon's blessings and set course of smooth sailing? Course not. Not together with his malevolent villain, who's sole purpose was to gain everyone's attention in hope of a late night feed. A survivor to the experience, the incubus to this day questions why Chance had let him off. Because behind the supple thickness and coke bottle hips lied a parasite baiting all those who wandered a little too far off from their sanctuaries. Lured with promises of the warmth between her thighs and welcoming hymns of a siren eager to see her meal's curiosity of what lied on the receiving end. Obsidian tendrils lie await; each poised to entrap and remove what precious air that filled their lungs. Pray be you're already dead before what comes after; just the thought routed a chill up his spine and relayed to fingertips and toes. The villain awaiting the hero to her story to end it all.

The hero he'd never play.

Although, every story has their highs to lows and the fae was no exception to the rule. Reconstructed from the banks of his memory could he see himself overlooking a crater, pupils dilated and breath nearly gone after the distance he covered in the short amount of time the situation called for. Descending did he steal quick notes of the dismantled limbs of Bon Bon that laid afoot; her blood betraying the soothing field of grass and morning sunshine that filled the cloudless skies. Further ahead, Eneru could play witness to an old friend burying his foot into the fae's back; already severed from the waistline after the fall. Teeth gritted and eyes bloodshot, the deadman was attempting to rip the skeletal wings off of Chance's pretty, little frame. Perhaps the only time he could admit he did one over on his then lover; anger his strength to pry Nathan away and escape with the woman he loved most.

Chance had never thought it, but at the furthest corner of his mind had he questioned of killing her when most vulnerable. Would she then be the malicious creature she still was? And just how many lives would he have saved if he'd taken the one woman who, genuinely, made him feel happy.

It would have been easy, wouldn't it?

The answer to that sat beside him: still breathing, still alive, and still smiling.

“If it was as simple as it seemed, would I not have just visited you in whatever bed you inhabit now?”

His brow rose and an array of emotions mixed with the likes of assurance and anger. The latter clouded his better judgement, cursing himself for what he allowed to slip past teeth and ruin whatever warm memory she'd been recalling. "Who knows? Perhaps obligation of staying true to the new life you wanted. I respected that much while you turned a cold shoulder and laughed at my weak heart behind the cryptic metaphors and secrets you hid from me. You always did, Chance..." This was a man he did not want to be, but times did occur when need be. And as much as he wished to recollect his composure, the annoying fly on the wall was still buzzing making it all the more difficult to do so.

“My friend here doesn’t belong either, but this happens to be where his d**k led him.”

"You mean the same d**k that led you here as well?" He shot a glare to Chance, looking over his shoulder to the pipsqueak who questioned how often she kept tabs on him. Swiveling in his seat, he looked the boy dead in the eye and angrily answered, "Often. Arguable that it's the only reason she is here. You see, she enjoys them large and thick," he paused to grab a handful of his crotch before continuing, "Enough so when she orgasms her toes ******** curl. I'm no Suerpman, but let me tell you, you don't cut it! So please pardon my French when I kindly ask you to do this: [******** off!" The incubus was foul, angry with his chain of luck that turned with a couple of questions and a dog chasing a bone he wished it would choke on and die.

And without care to the barowner who may as well be screwing another, he grabbed the nearest shot glass and vodka to pour and drink all in the same second. He needed it. The slamming of his glass could have been avoided. Evidently so after shattering it the third time around so he could feel the shards pierce into palm and feel exactly what he wanted.

Pain.

[Mystical Villain]

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ＺＥＮＯxＲＡＬＩＮ
The Life Eater
─────────────────

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Things were getting good in the corner of Chance's world. Curious as it was, to see a silly little human in the middle of beings that can bite off his head like that of a sucker. Perhaps he had his place, though, and safety from such an outcome either by local or simple temperament of the ones he involved himself in. This would be the limit of such observations by Zeno. Really, like he said before, the personal dramas of Chance Arden or Vereaux, whatever silly clan she belonged to, mattered little to the abomination unless he personally had a hand or two in it.

Icy blue gaze now wandered over to a newcomer, one who felt eerily similar despite never having seen her face. He'd have remembered a beauty like that, even after devouring the flesh from her bones. Then it hit him, and with it he had to part ways with Alex. Zeno had performed his duty well enough with the male anyways, and the boy had begun to bore the elder atrocity of eldritch creation. Sliding out of his seat, he'd move on over to Des, and caring little for personal space or if she wanted his company, sat him self right on next to her fine self. "Another Fae? How delightful, you're kind smells like a feast fit for a king. So easy to pick you out among the lower breeds." No subtly, right to the point, but then, when did such trivial social norms of lesser beings matter to him?

Cracking that vicious smile that showed off such unassuming teeth, Zeno had to hold out a hand, but this time not entirely expecting reciprocation of the greeting. "Where are my manners, though. Zeno, and your name might be?" She had a pretty face, and a more than perfect figure, but such had been true for every other Fae he had encountered. In this sense, Zeno again held himself to a higher standard. He enjoyed how another person presented them self physically, but by no means did that effect him in any substantial way. What mattered to the suited man, was what lies in the inside; the meat and blood, the life of a person, then the mind and soul. Everything that makes an individual who they are. This new Fae, like the other's before were just what the doctor ordered, at least in some small part. "Tell, me, do you have anything to do with Chance? I know a bit about your kind, but not so much about your social hierarchy. More just that you taste like sex when I bite into you." Again, the cold-hearted male didn't entirely expect an answer, especially how he presented himself. Worth a try, though, and he more than enjoyed her company if not just to bring his thoughts to less than polite means of discourse.



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location: The Rose Red - With Des
feeling: Absolutely peachy
ooc //:

[B e a u t i f u l D e r t]

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❖ℓσcαтισи ⋩ Rose Red Inn, Bar ❖cσмραиץ ⋩ Des, Zeno

A vacation was definitely in order, so it was what he set out to do. For a week or so Kaz had tried to find a remote location in the area of somewhere quiet and calming. Something to change in his far too exciting life of hunting, he deserved it after the last year of non stop traveling anyway. So when he found this Inn in the forest he was ecstatic, but when he realized that demons were running the place he tried his hardest to stay calm and silent; planning on leaving in the morning since traveling by night was far to dangerous.

He had been in his room for almost two days now, only having gone downstairs for some food and then retreating into the decorated suite. Kaz never asked for room service and made sure to take his own dishes back downstairs, warding the doors when he left and when he locked the doors behind him at night. Staying here was a bad idea for someone like himself, danger was always sure to follow; and really it was what he was trying to avoid. What Kaz didn't realize was that Scarlett, the owner of the inn, had friends.

A drink was in order tonight. In the morning he would leave so it couldn't hurt being in public for a few hours right? Making his way across his room to the vanity he slipped on his beige plaid ivy cap over his tousled jet black hair. Setting his book down on the oak dresser he walked over to the coat rack and slipped on his vest before walking out the door, making a note to lock it behind him. Despite how many times he had seen the place when going to get meals, he still had no idea how to get around the place, but the sound of soft music, clinking of glasses and soft chatter was white guided him to the bar.

Lazuli eyes scanned the crowed and spotted a table with what appeared to be a young woman and man. Kaz figured it couldn't hurt to have some company with a drink so he walked over to the bar and ordered a a few glasses- and the bottle -before walking over to them and offering the glasses of whiskey, setting the large bottle in the middle of the table.

"Sorry to bother you two, looks like you guys needed a drink, and I'm in need of some company. Mind if I join you?" The facade was completely fake of course, he wasn't normally this friendly at random; but when you were hiding from demons it was best to find strength in numbers, and this was the best option at the moment while at the same time he could enjoy himself. White sleeves rolled up made his seemingly normal tattoos quite visible, and he pushed the drinks towards the two unique people before raising his glass in attempt to kindly introduce himself.

"To strangers." He chuckled and gave a wide smile, pearly whites appearing in the dim light before knocking back some of the drink.

"Name is Kaz, nice to meet you two."

[We Could Be Villains]

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✖ Tell me where's your hiding place;
I'm worried I'll forget your face...







A hawkish gaze had been locked on the unfolding scene with the blonde and her company for a few moments now. All part of the job of course, even if Des seemed otherwise despondent and far off from the general hustle and bustle of Rose Red. The heated words exchanged were enough to keep her attention piqued, and while Zeno was moving in to take a seat at her table, it was obvious the tawny topped Fae was otherwise preoccupied. Of course, that didn’t make her a space cadet – so when she was addressed by the creature Chance had often butted heads with, the Arden could only manage to stomach sour words by replying with a sigh.

“Oh, please tell me you’re drunk.” Des commented finally, after Zeno had vomited a string of random ramblings at her. But, of course, she knew better and expected no answer to the obviously rhetorical quip. Dragging her golden hues away from the unfolding drama of the other Fae and her mate(s), Des Arden rested one slender set of digits on her table and settled back in the chair where she perched. “I know who you are. No need for introductions.” Her lids narrowed in memory of what she had seen, and while he may not have known about Des for very long, the Watcher surely knew him. Every sordid, horrible detail in excess; no remorse for the victims of his onslaught. In her opinion, a man with no moral boundaries to cross. Zeno was a plague eager to catch the weak and the unwilling.

Des stomached his company though, because her profession required she do so. Chance was certainly no better than Zeno, and if what Des had seen of him turned her off to his person, what she had seen of the blonde brought out true loathing. Unadulterated hatred was generally all Des felt for her charge, but somehow accompanying it was unfaltering loyalty. Both feelings seemed to tie in with the typical Fae range of emotions, so it was often left untouched in the back of her mind. There were always bigger problems to deal with in her line of work.

“Who?” Des asked coyly, feigning ignorance before glancing to where Zeno’s eyes went. “Oh, right. The other Fae here.” Her tone was one of annoyance at best, and had a bite to it as she added, “Because a Fae must know every other Fae in existence? Hardly. I’ve never even seen her before.” And to her credit, Des Arden seemed entirely serious when she said this, because it was her job to be a fly on the wall, and nothing more. Of course this was easier said than done, and while the two had been speaking quietly to themselves, another individual had closed the gap to come join them at their table in back.

This one seemed a tad less imposing, though equally a pest as they went straight to making themselves at home. Drinks shared, a name given, Des simply nodded to the newcomer. Rare did she give a name, and starting her with Zeno as one of the patrons didn’t seem like the smartest choice to make. “Thanks for the drink.” Was all she offered otherwise as she served herself and downed the dark liquor without pause. It was going to be a long night; this was only the painful beginning.










☣ --------- And I've asked e v e r y o n e,
And I'm beginning to think I i m a g i n e d you all along.

[HeavyArms01c]

Irys put his helmet on as he continue walking the corridoors. Whistling a song he wrote a while back for his lost love. He calibrated his motion tracker. As he made his way to the front of the Rose Red and close to the bar, he notice there were a lot more people there. He stood in front of the door looking into the bar. He walked up to the bar and sat down. He left his helmet on for the time being.

"Kind of surprise to see some many people here." Irys spoke to himself. He thought for a while. He hasn't seen Sydney in a while. Kinda missed him, they always had fun interesting conversations.

[Mystical Villain]

─────────────────
ＺＥＮＯxＲＡＬＩＮ
The Life Eater
─────────────────

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Alright, Zeno expected this new Fae not to be excited, but did it hurt to act somewhat interested in his company or what he had to say? Probably, considering how the man came across most of the time. Still, it wouldn't stop him from trying to pry what he all but hungered out of the woman.

"Really? Never even seen her before?" Zeno raised his eye brow to a level of near perfection that showed just how little he believed her. Even if he was wrong, that didn't change how he felt, and rarely did the stubborn as all hell man change his opinions once they were set in place. "You know, I've followed her around quite a bit since I first met her. Not an easy one to follow, I must admit, but still, kept to her well enough. In that time, I don't recall Chance ever just, bumping into a another Fae, by accident, apart from that abysmal bar, I find it hard to pick out more than one of you in any given place." With his perfect blue eyes and a grin that said that he felt like he knew it all, he just bore right into Des with every ounce of his smug personality. "You want to know what else? The Fae all smell alike to me, but are not without your own individual scents; as I'm sure you all come in a diverse manner of flavors as well." In this pause, added for dramatic effect naturally before the monster would again implicate her connection and ask who she was, some boy decided on his own to put himself right in their own private engagement. Now, Zeno did not simply kill that which he did not like. Not anymore, well, at least not in public; especially when he was trying to get information out of another Fae.

The pair were both poured a dark brown liquor, and when toasted he would indeed put back the swill with a now seething distaste, but lacked the look of such in his visage. Even with a second greeting she did not let her name slip. Smart on her part, he mused, but irritating all the same. The man in the suit refused to let an insignificant human derail his train of thought, and continued to Des with the conversation he had intended, hatred laced within in every word he spoke toward the newcomer in his company. "I can't place you, with my own eyes, nor the others I have out there, but I know that your scent isn't new to me. Say what you want, because I can't very well force what I want to hear from those beautiful lips of yours, not here anyways." It wasn't a threat, not exactly. His desire to get what he wanted in the end all but made up his aura. Perhaps Des and Zeno were both stubborn beyond any human standard, but who was more so; and which of them had the capability to break the other. "Mind letting go of what clan you belong to, surely I can't do much with that?"

A shrug and he was done, and left Des with his razor edge gaze. Momentarily they were back on Chance, but that scene hadn't shifted enough to warrant a longer look. Then came the human, Kaz. The brave little insect that had wandered into the line of sight of one who held a magnifying glass and possessed a cruel sense of humor. The drink in his hand had been finished for some time now, and the man reached with his free hand for the bottle Kaz brought with him. Upon his fingers touching the glass, it frosted over. Wasting no time, his thumb snapped the neck of the container instead of screwing off of the cap and filled his drink to the brim before setting the bottle back down on the table with a loud clang. "You are not in a place fit for one so fragile." Did he care about bullying a being who possessed absolutely no threat to him at all? Not in the slightest, not when they took it upon them self to interrupt the machinations of a evil abomination of the abyss.


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location: The Rose Red - With Des and Kaz
feeling: Less than Peachy
ooc //:

[B e a u t i f u l D e r t]

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❖ℓσcαтισи ⋩ Rose Red Inn, Bar ❖cσмραиץ ⋩ Des, Zeno

Kaz had no idea that when he joined the table the two participants would be so hostile. He sat down hesitantly finishing off his drink before pouring more, he couldn't blame the cold looks from the man across from him though, neither gave their names and neither had to really; Kaz was only sitting here for cover and a drink. Icy eyes glanced at the two as they continued their conversation, obviously they weren't friends like he had thought coming up to them. Crossing one leg over the other he tilted back in the chair and sipped idly at his drink while he listened to the two.

Clan? Why did the man speak with such words to begin with, let alone they were so harsh. The woman beside him only stared at him with the same distaste as he spoke and honestly Kaz felt completely uncomfortable, but he was the one that weaseled in between them to begin with so he had no place to speak. Icy eyes watched as the man took the glass in his hands and the beverage frosted over instantly before he broke the neck of the bottle, glass snapping off in one large chunk before pouring it.

"Says you." Rosy lips pulled into a smile and poured himself some of the whiskey trying not to act like he was affected he was surrounded by two otherkin. It was obvious to him by now that hardly anyone here was human, and thats what bothered him. The Inn itself must have some sort of warding on it for him not to have realized once he entered the place, otherwise he would have looked for somewhere else to stay. It was a mistake on his part of course. It bothered him to be the vessel of a pure human sure, but otherwise at the moment he was pretty powerless if these two were trouble. Sighing lightly he sipped at the drink cocked his head to the side focusing on the man before him.

"Surely you don't come to a bar to be so hostile for no reason. Why not relax in such a nice place hm?" He spoke rhetorically of course, he was merely just diving for information like he had been doing to the woman, but in his case he did it in a roundabout way; to his credit he was completely sincere as well. He glanced over to the woman and smiled, mentally snapping a photo of her before looking back to him.

"You two have names don't you? Or am I just crashing your little get together?" Kaz spoke softly completely without care in the world, he was enjoy the drink, the soft music in the background, and the idle chatter that flitted through the room. A hand reached up to scratch at the back of his neck before he rested it over the back of his chair and making himself more comfortable. Kaz had a feeling this would be an interesting afternoon which had the potential to turn ugly if he didn't go back to his room, but he decided to play it out for the time being.

[Rose Scented]

She was preening once more under the praise that he was bestowing her home and greatest joy, green eyes lighting up with a pride they hadn’t felt since the first time Rose Red had been under attack – mindless, annoying automatons – and she felt a spark within her that sang of her old self, of murdering for pleasure and devouring for the sake of it. Oh, what wonderful things the Demon of Temptation was bringing her tonight; the song of praise, the yearn for the unnecessary but undoubtedly fun kill. Scarlett sighed softly, the sound satisfied and hearty as though she had just fed, though it was not her body feeling nourished.

“Such rich praise, monsieur.” She said softly in her rolling accent, eyes closing for a moment as she savored another sip of flavorful wine.

Her head canted to the side as her eyes opened and her glass was lowered, the warm fire in the hearth throwing light and shadow into her eyes, making them much darker and seemingly alive in the intimate dim of the office. “Your company, in and of itself, is a great pleasure to me as well, monsieur. It has been a long time since I felt so… In tune with my inner demons.”

No need to mention why she had been out of tune.

Noting that his glass was empty she slid her hand from beneath his and stood to fetch the bottle that had been left behind on her desk, returning to refill both pieces of crystal stemware, this time leaving the rosy colored bottle on the coffee table for easier access as she sat once more. She crossed one leg gracefully at the knee of the other, and flattened her leather skirt back down to her knee in a deceivingly modest gesture. “You don’t have much time left in this vessel, I’m assuming. Is it wise to dawdle? Not that I’m bothered by the opportunity to sit with you.” She asked curiously, head tilting as the memory of his cracked, bleeding grey hands manifested itself within her mind, and how he had drawn back suddenly as though bothered by it.


With: Vetis. Wearing: This


'Cause nobody ever survives,

I'm praying to stay alive just to die a little longer,

Saviors and saints and devils and demons alike,

She'll eat you alive.


OOC:

[Rose Scented]

The army had been defeated, but at more of a cost than he had hoped.

The Firewall Estate had been destroyed, its foundation shattered, exploded, broken…

Un-repairable.

But more than that, Tyrell had been shattered.

They had broken him. Tortured him.

Burned with matches.
Prodded by spears.
Shrouded in darkness.
Doused through freezing water.
Dangled by hooks.

Healed.

Burned with matches.
Prodded by spears.
Shrouded in darkness.
Doused through freezing water.
Dangled by hooks.

For three straight weeks they had had him, trying and failing with each and every passing day to try and get the information that they wanted. Where was Katarina Dyakov? Day after day he had repeated the same mantra, a stanza from his favorite poem by his favorite author. Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven;

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Though after awhile he couldn’t muster the energy, not spiritual, not physical or otherwise and his mantra became “Quoth the raven, ‘NEVERMORE’!”, and he would scream it at them until they left him be for an hour or two, though they always came back, jerking and yanking and prodding and putting various chemicals in his body that his Hellspawn side burned before negative statements could be uttered from cracked, bloody lips. While they had tortured him his troops had taken out the army that had taken over TFE, and finally came to break him out. Once freed, he had ran, losing his team and leaving them behind, finally left to wander in the woods by himself with only the shredded, torn, bloody jeans he’d had on when they’d gotten him out. He stumbled, ran, walked, crawled for days, only uttering the word “nevermore” under his breath.

It had been one month and three days since he had sent Katarina away when he broke the woods that surrounded Rose Red, falling into the road and lying there, finally unable to go on.

Tears ran rivers through the muck that dried his skin, his body and spirit broken. “Nevermore… Nevermore… The Raven… Nevermore…” He shuddered, buried his face in the dirt, cried and screamed and bled.

[Iris Lunaria]

₰ Katarina Elaine Dyakov ₰



"Vou keep saving me, Upyr"

Katarina had rolled her eyes as Celeste, her ‘sister’ had continued to rush from side to side. The familiar, and welcomed, crunching of leaves left her senses scattered as her visual perspectives were put to test. Celeste was busy taking the high road, dodging each tree, rushing from side to side, and, at time, showing off by leaping from one side of a tree trunk to one three feet away. “Alright. No one’s here to see vou shovoff but me.” That thick and beautiful Russian accent attempted to persuade the walking wolf as she finally shook her head.

The two of them had cut along a road. The poor road looked abandoned and unused for ages. Katarina paused in the midst of the road, and leaned forth. Her open palms moved to rest along the base of her bent legs, at her knees, as she felt the immense pressure along her chest. She had pushed herself and, thanks to Celeste, she hadn’t noticed until now. “Vait..” She called out, in a barely audible gasp as she tried to catch her breath. Lightly, the Russian stood straight up, waving her arms at Celeste, trying to get her attention, when she paused. Her arms were still upwards, within the air above, as she turned her head to the something she noticed in the middle of the road and out of the corner of her eyes.

Katarina glanced forth, searching for Celeste, and when the other was not found, the mortal glanced, more so, to the same side while moving off of the previous, and current, trail. Down a ways, about fifty feet, was something dark and red. She couldn’t quite make it out but something pulled her there. The black, alone, had reminded her of her Companion. The very man who had sent her away over a month ago. A few cautious steps brought her even closer. The black was not only an exact match to her Companion’s hair color but the markings along his arm was fam…

“s**t. s**t!” Katarina took off in her full sprint before he came into full view. “NO! CELESTE!” She called out, sliding on her knees along the rough terrain, sliding closer towards him as the cloth did little to stop her knees from bruising and being sliced open by the roughness. Pain that she didn’t even notice. Her hands reached down towards him, lingering, shaking, as she began to cry. She never cried. Even when her parents were killed. She simply bottled that s**t up and hid it. But this…him! No, she couldn’t take it..losing him. “My love…” She whispered, gently lowered her hand along the side of his bloody and swollen features. She was careful with the touch, as if just a caress would break him. Her other hand went to stroke his long and still beautiful hair. Of course, it was matted with mud and dried blood, some fresh.

“No…” She cried out again. “NO!” Her Russian temper flared within her, sending her racing heart into a mad frenzy, as her hands lingered around him. She quickly moved her hands and slammed them into the ground beneath her. It took her a few short breath, not at all calming, before she glanced down at her pants. She recalled placing a small blade into the pockets of her pants before she left, as she always had. She would remove it, flick the protected blade open, and cut along her left wrist. “Drink..please..you have to drink..” She whispered, placing her wrist along his sore and swollen lips while her own lips lowered and rested against his temple. A light kiss, though a long one, remained there, as her wrist remained along his lips. Her own eyes, welding with tears, closed, causing her own to run downwards, mixing with what his had already produced.

In the end, she would kill them. She would kill them all. Ripping their hearts from their chest, while making the other eat it. Torture, pain, anything and everything to revenge what they had done to him. Her beloved. The pain that lingered around his wounds. Displays of what he had gone through. She knew her family, her damned Aunt and Uncle, and knew what they were capable of when they wanted something, let alone information about her. This man, her Companion, had managed to suffer, taking in all this pain, just for her and her damn safety. Yes, she would revenge it for him. The anger, despair, and desire to cause such all echoed within those beautiful blue orbs that, at the moment, were hidden by her closed lids.


Wearing:I wear this.
Theme song: I crave you...
O.O.C.

[Rose Scented]

Bi-colored eyes, dull and lifeless and inexplicitly void of their previous life opened as he was turned, wincing and crying out through clenched teeth, flinching from the person’s touch as he stared, at first unseeing. It took a great deal of time before he was able to make out who was above him and when he did he cried some more, chest heaving and spazzing, heart wrenching while his stomach turned with the amount of relief he felt. “K-keh-Katarina...” He forced out before his eyes fell closed again, sighing in relief that she had remained safe.

He smelt her blood before she had put her wrist to his mouth and without thinking his fangs extended and he bit deep into her frail skin, his hand clamping it to his mouth as he pulled the thick, sweet blood from her body in large, dizzying mouthfuls. Even when he had passed the point of safety he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t let go…

“Tyrell, no!” Celeste said as she broke the clearing at a dead run and she flung herself at the two of them, grabbing Rina’s arm in one hand and Tyrell’s jaw in the other; her index finger dug sharply into the right-side joint, forcing him to release his girlfriend, but not before he nearly ripped a chunk out trying to stay latched on. He passed out a moment later.

“Rina. Rina. Are you okay?” Celeste asked fervently, slipping off her jacket and wrapping the woman’s wrist thickly.

[Iris Lunaria]

It was the closeness of her lips, along his temples, that caused her tear to speed up. The overwhelming feelings, merging into one full blown release, created a steady stream of tears that crept downwards. Her soft lips parted as a light whisper crept forth. "I'm sorry, my love...I'm so sorry. I vill avenge vou..." She whispered lightly, her lovely Russian accent thick and separated with the choking of tears and regret. How do you apologize, explain, to the person whom you care for so much, how sorry you are that you have the family that you do? How do you even begin to apologize for the torture they caused that love one? There were no amount of words she could use to express the feeling, the shame and guilt, she held. Instead, she could only cry. She could only hold him, in what little way she could, as she remained close to him.

Her breathing continued to rush along her chest, forcing it to rise and fall, only when she heard his voice, did her lids part, exposing her piercing blue orbs, as she lifted her lips from his temple. "Up..upyr..?" She whispered back, moving her orbs to watch as his very own duo hued ones parted. Her own lips formed the lightest of smiles as she began to cry more so. The tears simply clouded up her orbs completely. Luckily, she hadn't seen what would occur, or what was coming.

As her wrist remained along his swollen and sore lips, the sudden and awakening pain pressed against her flesh. The familiar piercing fangs brushed through her flesh. Naturally, that would hold, the feeding would be light and gentle but this time, this time it was different. Katarina's eyes widened greatly as she winced. "Upyr..." She called lightly, feeling the deepening of the feeding. Her eyes narrowed, the extent of how he fed on her caused her concern but, at the same time, she felt it was an appropriate action to take. her family had done this to him, had robbed him of the energy he held. Was it not the least she could do? She could never ask for enough forgiveness nor repay him enough for not giving her up.

The mortal's features continued to show the pain she felt and, yet, she remained still, allowing him to feed from the wound along her wrist. His fangs had dug deep within her wrist and she was beginning to lose an adequate amount of blood. Before her lips parted again, she felt an unseen force rip between her and Tyrell. "No!" Glancing, she caught the sight of Celeste pulling Tyrell away from her just as he began to tear a small chunk from her wrist.

"God damn it.." She called out just as Celeste was taking her wrist and wrapping it tightly. Katarina shook her head, sending her dark tendrils into a spin. "I'm...I'm fine. Get him back to the Inn as desrectly as vou can. Please." She asked, holding the fabric along her own wrist. She would deal with herself later. For now, her main concern was Tyrell. "Place him in my room, Celeste." She finished, moving to stand. Katarina braced herself lightly against her own leg as she moved to stand. "Let's go.." The Russian announced, moving away from the spot and, in hopes that Celeste would follow her as the trio headed back towards the Inn.

[Rose Scented]

But Celeste would do no such thing.

Yes, she was worried for Tyrell’s health as well, why shouldn’t she be? But she was more so worried about ‘Rina; she had seen the intensity of the feeding, watched her face drain pale and knew what would have happened should she have been even a moment later. As Katarina was walking away, Celeste stepped forward, grabbed her arm, yanked her around and… Punched her squarely in the nose – probably knocking her down – wolf temper flaring as she snarled her discontent.

“Are you ******** stupid? You never, ever offer up your own blood to a starved, delirious vampire thing, especially not knowing what he’s been through. You realize that he was going to kill you? And then what! Huh? He’d awaken fresh and new to find what he’d been fighting for was dead? This, this is why I hate humans. If you have half a brain Katarina Dyakov you will march your a** back to that Inn, do to the cellar through the trap door in the storage room, and kill one of the human’s Scarlett has for fresh blood for her demon guests. You will drain him dry and bring the blood to your room. You no longer make the orders.” Celeste, should Rina have fallen, stood over the woman with blue eyes flashing angrily as she shook her head and turned to lift the Tyrell’s heavy body into her arms, grunting with the effort, and stumbling slightly. “If you don’t want him to die, go now.”


With: Tyrell, Rina. Wearing: This.


A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me,

Darling it is no joke, this is lycanthropy.

Moon's awake now, with eyes wide open,

My body is craving, so feed the hungry.


OOC: