everything is golden

Mallory’s gazed sharpened at the younger woman attempted to push her away. “Don’t ever do that again and we’ll be even,” she warned. Her voice not unkind but leaving no room for argument. “And get over yourself. I have better things to do than go around compelling you for the hell of it,” the vampire commented, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, like me shoving you away from me is on the same level as being compelled,” she mumbled, eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry, I sh-should have realized you didn’t want to be bothered. I’ll, um. I’ll leave you alone,” she continued, louder this time, though the words carried no edge. The basilisk had no desire to be near someone so comfortable with invading her personal space or violating her sense of free will, such as it was. Nervously, she raked her fingers through her golden curls and murmured a goodbye before she headed towards the door.

Gia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the Elodie’s overprotective mama bear mode. “Yes, mom. I get it. Don’t look at anything. Don’t touch anything. Everything can kill me,” she mocked, a tad bit of her annoyance shining through. The blonde understood dangerous situations. She knew when to bite her tongue and when to provoke. Elodie didn’t know that. “Oh, I’m allowed to drink? How kind of you,” the human deadpanned. “I’ll have a beer.”

The less-than-gentle prodding in regards to the flash of over-protectiveness Elodie displayed prompted a soft chuckle as the basilisk bumped her friend’s shoulder playfully as they headed to the bar. “First one’s on me,” she said with a quick grin, then ordered herself her usual whiskey neat as Gia grabbed herself a beer. “So um... that’s the ring, obviously,” she said as she briefly inclined her head towards the currently vacant arena. “If there’s nobody around to actually facilitate signing up, I think a bartender can help. Not sure about betting though--I’ve never done it myself. I’m sure there’s somebody though,” she continued with a shrug. 

Ruby’s smile gave way to a puzzled expression as her brows furrowed. “Yes, my boss left an hour ago and the other artist that we have is in like every other day.” Standing up from the desk chair, she moved around it and promptly made her way past Elodie to the door. Flipping the neon sign to closed she looked over her shoulder at the other blonde. It was nearing the end of the day anyways, she’d been sitting around sketching and rearranging her desk decor. And it wasn’t like it was uncommon for her to kind of close things down if something was supernatural in nature or was a particularly large piece. “Is everything alright? I can lock up if it makes you feel better.”

Without hesitation, the witch stood and moved around Elodie to take steps to ensure no one would interrupt them. That sort of trust or desire to make her feel safe brought a small smile to the basilisk’s lips as she watched her, suddenly that much fonder of the woman for the effort. “Nothings’s wrong--” she said, eyebrows arching briefly as her hazel eyes turned to stare at the floor for a moment before she lifted her gaze to meet the other’s. “I just-- I need--” A nervous sigh pushed past her lips and she began to shrug off her leather jacket, revealing a simple black tank top underneath it. Despite the warmth of the tattoo parlor, a chill crossed the woman’s skin and she shivered against it; she wore this to make things easier, but it left her feeling uncomfortably cold. 

“I need this fixed by someone supernatural,” she said finally. Jacket gone from her shoulders, she now showed the damaged part of one of her colorful tattoo sleeves, a jagged void of ink in the shape of what once was a terrible injury healed by means beyond the mundane. Magic closed the wound, but it took the ink with it. “An-and I’m not, um, sick or anything but-- um--” Nerves began to take hold and the blonde shifted from foot to foot. Explaining this without revealing her true nature probably wouldn’t work in the end, but she held onto that scrap of secrecy with a white-knuckled sort of fervor. “M-my blood is dangerous to you,” she said finally.

“ I didn’t mean like a personal assistant” Delphine chuckled. She was meaning more along the lines where they had someone literally do everything fro them so they never lifted a single finger. She didn’t seem like the type who would ever get her hands dirty but she wasn’t a complete princess either. The tone shifted though as soon as Noah had been brought up. She let out a sigh pondering it for a moment. She never thought the constants in her life would one day not be there. She found that with the immortal originals. “ I never thought there would be a world where Noah Bordeaux wasn’t in it. I miss the guy “ She replied realizing that he had been more of a friend to her than she had realized. “ The dagger however. I don’t want to be anywhere near any weapons”

“Neither did I,” the basilisk countered, still grinning. “I mean, people throw money at the craziest things. It’s literally the only reason I take private piano gigs. Sometimes you’ve gotta see how some crazy-rich person lives after they’ve been disconnected with regular society for years.” At the question posed, Delphine’s mood fell to something more somber--not that Elodie could blame her. Despite their inherent opposing natures, there was probably some measure of solace able to be taken from seeing another family just as long-lived as your own. And then to watch one of them fall after struggling with a mutual foe for a year and a half must have hit hard. Quiet fell between the pair as Elodie considered her friend’s words, curious but unsure if she should press. In the end, the desire to know more won out over politeness. “Do... you know if... um. Do they have more? Are you going to be okay?”

“Shit!” Hand to her chest, Joanna willed her heart to stop racing as she glanced down and turned, watching as an animal darted past her and she exhaled slowly. She wasn’t scared, of course. She loved animals, even the kind that might not necessarily love her. But she did startle. She hadn’t expected it and, admittedly, Jo had been on edge more often than not recently. “That… okay  –” she laughs sheepishly, looking up with a slight blush to her cheeks, and a nervous laugh. “– sorry.“

Having seen the same animal zip across her path, Elodie too halted, though she managed not to make any sound of surprise despite the startle. A slow, awkward laugh left her lips and she offered a half-shrug in response. “Rats get, um, big. Here. ...There’s a lot of garbage,” she said with another uncomfortable chuckle. “I’ve lived here my whole life and they’re still, um, not my favorite.”

“And then the poor man says, “How are we sure that Margaret Keane actually painted her work? What if it really was her husband?”. Of course, I started to explain the nuances of sexism in art and generational expectations of women in her time and he had the nerve to suggest that I should probably read a bit more about art and then I wouldn’t make it so political and emotional.” She scoffed as she regaled the story, her eyebrows pulled together in an irritated frown. She quickly swiped through her phone as she strolled aimlessly down the surprisingly sparse New York street. “That is the last time I let an app tell me who I’m compatible with. I mean, really, “read a bit more about art”? He was a computer engineer who showed up wearing a stained Pokemon shirt and khakis. I’ll just take my art degree and put it to good use by decorating the kitchen he doesn’t want me to leave.” Margo let her head tilt to the side slightly in thought, her curls bouncing to one side as she did. “You know, it’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

Elodie couldn’t help but laugh at the woman’s vivid depiction of her ill-fated date, knowing all too well the sort of person she described. Men didn’t change, and it was instances like this the blonde was glad she was deeply disinterested in them. “I get students like that sometimes--freshmen, I mean,” she said, then pulled her hands out of her pockets to show the woman the ink that poked out from under the sleeves of her leather coat, flowers and geometric designs and the word DOLLFACE written across her knuckles. “They see this and my age--” Or assumed age, anyway--Elodie didn’t look a day over 35, “--and they think they know better than me. It’s like... yeah, kiddo, you got into Julliard. I’m the one teaching you at Julliard, and you think you know more than me?” A dry chuckle fell from her lips as she raked her fingers through her blonde curls slowly before her hand returned to her pocket. “It’s almost always male students, too. Unbelievable.”

Delphine smirked back towards her friend at her comment. “ Well obviously” She joked despite having a good idea her looks could be used against her in insults. “ I think that’s what the thought. That I have some sort of assistant that does all my work for me. No one has that” She added shaking her head

“I mean... some people have that,” the basilisk countered, still obviously teasing. Money made things easy, but the Davenports amassed their power through work and time. Keeping up with technology and social norms must have been mind boggling; Elodie could hardly handle it sometimes and she was just a few years past eighty. “You guys doing okay with the whole... um... the dagger thing? Noah Bordeaux?” she asked after a beat. Mallory had been clearly unsettled, given her demeanor, and she didn’t imagine it was an easy thing for the Davenports to handle either.

The entire short trip to the Sanctuary, Elodie had probably been something akin to an insufferable, overprotective older sibling, constantly reminding her friend these people could kill her for fun. The wound in her shoulder had been magically healed--the details of which she currently kept to herself--but she still didn’t like the idea of having to step in to save her very human best friend should someone decide to get ugly. The pair made it through the door without a problem; the bouncer didn’t look twice at the pair of them. There was a decent sized crowd, giving the space a buzz of energy and noise that wasn’t painfully loud, but instead welcome, almost cozy despite the very prominent fighting ring nearby.

“You want a drink first?” she asked as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. 

@giaivan

“Decided on something?” Elodie, that was her name. This was the second time she’d found herself in the shop but Ruby continued to see her in passing every once in a while. Or playing piano at Fitzgerald’s. She wanted to say something just about every time she saw her in the place, but found herself distracted by the contrast of inked hands moving across ivory keys. Embarrassment still kept her at bay, their first real speaking encounter made her worry she was just going to keep fawning over the artwork on her body. Regardless, she greeted the other blonde with a smile from where she sat at the reception desk, her attention immediately snapping to her from Spotify on the computer. @allglasseverything

Despite the slight rise in temperature outside, Elodie still practically shivered under her leather jacket as she entered the tattoo parlor, pleased to discover the building itself was as warm as she remembered. Instead of shedding her jacket immediately, however, she shoved her hands into the pocket of her jeans and raised her shoulders slightly as though in a shrug. This was foolish and potentially dangerous for both of them, but seeing the ugly gap in her tattoo every time she looked at it in a mirror made her heart ache in the strangest way, and so she finally gathered the courage to visit the only supernatural tattoo artist she knew.

                   “Oh, god no,” Beth barked out a humored laugh of her own, one that lacked her perpetually gelid essence, “It was a horrid city then and it’s a horrid city now. I lived in the South Side, my parents were immigrants,” she murmured softly, a cavernous sense overcoming her as she recalled family that was now long gone; their only chance of bringing forth future generations having once lied with Beth, their only child. 

The blonde laughed a little, her torso pitching forwards briefly with the sound before she settled again, grin on her lips as her eyes focused absently on her hands in her lap. “Not a Cubs fan, huh?” she teased. Her expression sobered somewhat and she worried her lip, curious but not quite sure where the boundary currently laid between herself and her kin. “Were... I mean. I was young when...” Her brows knitted and her eyes unfocused as she tried to string words into some semblance of order in her head before she tried again. “Were all of us young when we were turned?” she asked finally, tilting her head slightly so she could peer at her friend sideways.

“God, some people are just so starved for attention. I walked into Strand and another customer flat out said to me ‘wow I didn’t know rich people like you knew how to read’” Delphine replied rolling her eyes. “ That was a bit of a reach and I told them that. What were they even trying to say?” She laughed. She handled the situation but she found some people’s attitudes about the socialite Davenport a little ridiculous.

Slouched on Delphine’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand and a comfortable haze in her head was just what she needed after a stressful few weeks. “They’re jealous because you’re pretty,” she teased gently. “Do they think you... I dunno. Paid people? To read things to you? What goes through peoples’ heads, honestly,” she murmured as she brought the glass to her lips.

“That’s rude to assume I’d cause any trouble. Accurate but rude,” the less injured blonde smirked, crossing her leg. “Besides, I have some sense of self preservation. It may not seem like it  to you but I don’t go out of my way to attempt to get killed. Most of the time.”

“Eh, it’s kind of why I like you,” she teased in response. Most of the adventurous things in Elodie’s life were directly related to the woman currently seated at her bedside, even if nothing they did was ever quite dangerous or particularly spontaneous, but Gia had the effect of making Elodie feel a little safer, a little more invincible, despite the fact that her supernatural nature made her slightly more durable than the average human. “Okay. Well, once I’m out of here, we’ll pick a day and go, and then once you know where it is, you can find it yourself.”

“So which one of you did that human stab?” Her voice was hushed and more excitable than venomous. No tricks, no rubbing salt in the wound, Gwen was just eager to finally figure it out. And maybe they wanted revenge? She wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. In a strange way, she almost felt like Gianna’s life was hers to end at this point. “Or are you handing out that Windex that runs through your veins?” This was ridiculous on a number of levels and she wasn’t getting anywhere. Speeding up, she stepped right in front of the other blonde and turned around to face her. “Look, I’m not here to play games. I’m not here to go running my mouth either, if it means I finally get some damn answers. A lot happened that night, if I can make even one part of it make a lick of sense….” Trailing off, eyes darting to the other people walking by, she wasn’t quite sure what she was playing at. Sympathy maybe, she seemed the type to give it. “I don’t expect you to care about a stranger’s peace of mind. But I’ll buy coffee. Dinner or something. In exchange for a proper chat.” With her arms over her chest and back straight, she wanted to feel big, in control. Instead this whole thing just had her exasperated.

“No one stabbed me! Leave me the fuck alone!” The basilisk finally snapped, halting only for a moment to stare at the woman before she moved around her once more, in no mood for dinner or a drink or whatever else the other wanted. Despite the fact that she already seemed to discern there was something decidedly different and unusual about Elodie, she was still not about to divulge the details of her affliction to a stranger, not when life felt so precarious right now. Her safety was tenuous, and the more people she brought into that circle, the more dangerous her existence became. 

“Seriously, I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want coffee, I don’t want dinner, I don’t want-- I don’t want to talk to you or anybody, okay? Go away.”