I'll tear your heart out

When Annabelle realized that it was Billie’s car pulling up to hers, she felt her spirits lift a little bit. One of the last times she’d seen Billie had been the night she’d been attacked by that human asshole outside of the Lusty Lady. She’d seen a side of Billie that she knew existed, but never thought she’d see first hand. It had been terrifying and exhilarating all at one time. The only thing it had done to their relationship was make it stronger. Billie had killed a man for her to keep her safe, whatever Annabelle had to do in return, she would do.

“I may or may not have asked my roommate….” She teased, winking at her, and realizing that now her situation didn’t seem so hopeless. “I don’t know what the problem is except that my car might as well be a literal piece of SHIT.” She said, kicking a tire and wincing at the pain in her foot.

“Do you know anything about cars from that long life you’ve lived?” She asked sweetly, leaning against the car and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Billie leaned against the hood of her car and laughed, “well, I’ve never said no to a damsel in distress and I won’t start now.” Really, she aught to be keeping a better eye on Anna over all, considering she’d become something of a toy. But she’d never been opposed much to sharing, and the majority of the towns most dangerous beings- dangerous to Annabelle, anyway- answered to Billie’s boss. So there wasn’t all that much to worry about. and if Billie dealt with all of her problems the whole relationship became far too... Regular. She liked popping up unexpectedly.

“Mmmm, does look like you could do with a new motor.” Could buy her one, would barely be a dent in the finances. It’s a little too extravagant of a purchase though- wouldn’t go unnoticed by Astarte or Anne’s circle of friends. “I’m a lesbian from the fifties.” Billie scoffed, kicking up from her lean to saunter over to Annabelle’s car, popping up the hood. “Of course I know a thing or two about cars.” 

* ╱ 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐕

●︎ when: may 7th, 2019 ●︎ where: deadwood park ●︎ with: @billie-reed​

others would find such silence unnerving, henri found it oddly comforting. the many reasons behind this was simple, henri was raised in a state of complete and utter chaos with a loss of control. as a vampire, he was powerful - much more so than he was in his human years. the only difference was that he could direct those carnal habits into a more positive outcome now. sadly, there were moments when he snapped and turned into one of the darkest vampires who walked this planet. his “jack the ripper” days left little to be desired and he wasn’t proud of how the actions of another drove him to this point. 

as a figure all but fell from the sky, landing neatly upon the freshly manicured lawn of the park - henri never flinched. he remained calm and composed; especially since nothing much scared him these days. as a feminine voice cut through the cold night air, the raven haired man looked in her direction and studied her exotic features. “henri miyahlov…” he spoke in a calculated stance to answer her own question. “billie reed why are you up there in those trees acting like edward cullen?” it was a joke of course, most vampires hated twilight references but the dark and morose henri found them actually golden.

Silence wasn’t real. You could create it. You could sit yourself in a room with the walls so stuffed full of padding you wouldn’t hear your own mother screaming bloody murder right on the other side of it. But in nature, there was no silence. Someone was always awake. A cricket, a vampire, a flower finally unfurling its petals. Something, somewhere, was shifting.

* ╱ 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓

●︎ when: may 7th, 2019 ●︎ where: the lucky lady ●︎ with: @billie-reed​

normally, he was the worst bartender but the woman that took her rightful spot at the bar was straightforward and set simple expectations. the promise of a nice tip might have increased his mood some and with that he obliged with simple smile coupled with a curt nod. carefully, giles sauntered over to the bar and reached for a nicer whiskey and used his free hand to secure a glass. carefully, he tipped the bottle and filled it nearly to the brim. something that his boss normally screamed at  him about and with that he hummed in soft bit of humor. giles set the bottle down, reached for the glass and placed it before his patron. “i can deal with a guest securing their seat with a monetary compliment for sure.” he teased as he pushed the bottle near the woman, making sure it was in his line of sight so that he wouldn’t break the deal the two of them made. taking hold of her card, he opened a tab and returned back to face the woman. “what brings you in tonight?

Her family hadn’t been the most well off growing up- she couldn’t recall exactly what her parents had done for work, but they were a black woman and a white man, married in the nineteen fifties. It couldn’t have been easy, even less so when their daughter grew up to be a pocket knife wielding, jeans wearing, track running dyke. Having so much money she didn’t even have to think about it, felt good. Stealing was easy enough as a vampire, but a pointless risk to take unless you had too. “And some people scoff when I remind them money makes the world go round.” She grinned, taking a sip of the drink. It couldn’t get her drunk anymore, but she honestly did like the taste, the burn. 

Where: In Between Hill City and Rapid City When: 5/25/19 7:00 pm Who: Open

The curfew was really having a downer on Annabelle’s job. The one that gave her the most income was the one where she was sliding up and down a pole and dancing for strangers in a dimly lit room. She was paid a bit by The Gambler, her other employer, but only if she gave him useful information about the world around her. He’d asked her to infiltrate and, in her opinion, she’d gotten really far and really good at doing that. No one suspected a beautiful little human to be pumping them for information. Having to leave for home before curfew was hurting her wallet.

As she drove towards home, her car started to sputter. “No…” She said, keeping her foot on the gas, hoping to steadily keep going. Then came the smoke. “No, no, no, no, no,” She muttered hitting the steering wheel. When it came to a stop in the middle of the road she sat in the seat, slumped over, putting her head on the steering wheel. Her eyes went to her clock– 1 hour before curfew. And she was in the middle of fucking no where. She got out of the car and walked around to the front of it, kicking a tire along the way. She didn’t know anything about cars.

She was basically stranded.

She looked up and down the road, not seeing a car coming either way. She moved to lean against it, curling up in a ball by the car. She pulled her phone out, ready to call the police to give her a ride when she heard a vehicle approaching. She stood up and waved her hands. “Help! Please!” It then sprang on her that she was still almost dressed for work without the lingere which was replaced with jeans and a tight t-shirt, her hair and make up still done.

Existence without the need for sleep was... Strange. Eighty years or so it had been, and Billie still sometimes marveled at it. She could just keep going and going and going. Wherever there was blood, she could survive. On the days when she felt like being part of the Dominion wasn’t affording her the freedom she needed she wondered if never stopping would mean she could escape them. if she just roamed the world forever, ran forever, would that be more like freedom? She’d always liked running, after all, and she’d always been an outsider too. One day it’d probably happen, but for now she was happy enough to stay put.

Maybe she was a glorified guard dog, but there was fun to be had in that, and fun in fast cars and all the other luxuries she could afford on Astarte’s payroll. Running was still her favorite way to get around, but you couldn’t beat rolling the windows down on a slick ride and blasting your favorite tunes. The curfew didn’t effect her any- with her sharp senses slipping past people was easy, and when that failed it was even easier to manipulate them into letting her go. 

WHERE: great bear valley, penthouse WHEN: 2:30 pm WHO: open to all vaympires

     “so thrilled you accepted my invitation.”  it was very particular after all, formal and handwritten in an ink and quill.  stamped with a wax seal, convoluted and twisted imagery that to some looked like needles, to others like vines.   all twisting and dangerous nonetheless –  erzsébet has never felt a need to correct or confine anyone to one specific thought.  

she likes the wondering.  about her seal, herself, where she has now made her new home.  a careful modern elegance to the penthouse she has claimed that does not match the rest of great bear’s shabby chic beyond one specific word.  extravagance.  less down there than up here, but erzsébet will fix that sooner than later.  remodel how this place looks, keep that particularly drab aesthetic but make it something far more stunning than it is.  the light fixtures have been adjusted, and some small part of erzsébet wonders if her guest has been within the valley before her purchasing of it.  if they can note the changes intimately, or feel them like an itch in the back of the skull.

the fluffed edges of her robes sleeve tickle at erzsébet‘s wrists as she comes closer.  stark compared to the sheer of the rest of that fabric, dark against her pale skin and swishing with every step.  she holds two glasses.  white wine gently sloshing within them both as she extends her left hand outwards.  a silent offer in it, matched when she drinks from the glass within her right.  smiles around the stain that she leaves on the glass rim.  

     “we’ve much to discuss.  i see things have been twisting in this state like maggots and meat, no?  i’m astonished.  but thrilled.  these are the sort of tales i always hoped to hear from my follow companions.”  she sounds confident – but who else could perform such evocative murders but a vaympire?  who else but one of her people?  “and then there are, of course, kindnesses.  let us start there.  how did you find the trip to my home?”

Joanna was an interesting sort. Billie didn’t pay much mind to the politics of the political organization she worked within, but even Astarte had warned her not to piss the woman off. That wasn’t the only reason she accepted the invite, though- she was curious. Joanna seemed old fashion but there was a wild twinkle in her eye, and Billie wondered if she’d met someone whose interests could turn as macabre as her own. 

Plus, it got her out the house- Billie couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned down an invite to socialize, so she wasn’t about to start now.

* ╱ 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓

●︎ when: may 7th, 2019 ●︎ where: the lucky lady ●︎ with: open thread

working as a bartender wasn’t too terrible. it was a easy job; especially for someone with minimal education and no amazing future in sight. in hindsight - this seemed rather ideal. yes, there were times where the lonesome wolf would contemplate his future and where he would end up without that damn bunker haunting him but then he was reminded that was selfish. the pack took him in, they provided for him and gave him a place when they found as a child out in the woods half starved. to question those motives, choices, and decisions that aided him in his time of need was downright cruel. taking a sip from from the glass of whisky that was hidden behind the soda machine, giles noticed how empty this place was. fuck yea. this meant they would close close on time and without a second thought the red-head started to clean and restock the bar as his thoughts got lost in the idea and concept of space. the stars were a nice distraction from those darker thoughts that tended to haunt him. as a voice called out to him, giles felt his stare raise over the bar at the sight of a friendly guest who looked nice enough. “what can i get for ya?” he questioned the individual - his tone a lot nicer than usual and only because he’d recently been yelled at for his lack of candor.

* ╱ 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐕

●︎ when: may 7th, 2019 ●︎ where: deadwood park ●︎ with: open thread

the once human man sat alone in the back of the establishment the entire evening. his conversation was kept brief and straight to the point. the only words spoken to his server was his simple request for a fresh glass of wine and she carried that out without question. these were the kind of servers that deserved a handsome tip and once he downed his last glass - henri withdrew his wallet and sat down a hundred dollar bill. the petite blonde was tired and she deserved every last dime of the money that he offered. henri miyahov while not spoiled, would sometimes cave to his inner compassion and do something special for someone. collecting his things, henri moved towards the exit of the bar and took out into the dark alley. the forever frozen vampire took a moment to consider his next course of action. maybe the park? the man literally could do whatever he wanted and not much could stop him. once he finally arrived, he took a seat on a park bench and let the darkness cascade around him. the vampire wasn’t scared but was insanely curious if anyone would come to his aide? the worst thing for a vampire was boredom and he needed someone to save him from idle thoughts. as a branch snapped behind him, henri tilted his head and spoke: ”who is there?” his tone calm and collected.

The saving grace of Billie’s unending urge to wander was that she always kept her phone on her. If not for that, Astarte might’ve gotten sick enough of it to tie her up in the basement of Armana by now. It had been her way since she was alive- to roam. Mooching the streets until an hour past curfew, kicking back in a booth at the diner after school, heading to a mates house for dinner, lazing about on the football pitch, running round back alleys. Being in one place was boring.

She’d had her fill of the bars and clubs for the night, and couldn’t even find a wytch friendly enough to offer up their wrist so she was boringly sober to boot. Rather than going home she’d decided on a trip to the park and some late night monkey business. She swung about through trees, her affinity for earth causing branches to sway in her direction on the occasion that her jump from one to the other was not quite accurate. She sat high up in the tree she’d decided was her favorite, shifting to get comfy, snapping a skinny branch in the process.

* ╱ 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕒 𝕚𝕧𝕪

●︎ when: april 22nd, 2019 ●︎ where: black manor, lotus night ●︎ with: @billie-reed

“don’t temp me,” she retorted matching the woman’s fervor and complexity. in a dreary town, perhaps she should’ve taken to billie’s side and not opposed it. they were surrounded by intoxicated bodies, full of mayhem, lust, all housed under the same roof; perhaps that was fueling the desire to know. to give in. selena felt suddenly free of her deprecating mind. “don’t tell me, show me,” the distance between them grew closer by the second, pulling her body closer and closer all on her own. 

she’s enticed by the way the woman doesn’t try to deny her initial dislike, a smirk playing on her lips. but, there was the matter of exactly how many drink orders she has placed for the night or flutes she gulped down as waiters constantly passed by her. granted, she was assured by the charms she had placed on her nifty clutch, but one could never be a hundred percent confident in their state of mind in these situations. no matter, selena had taken on a new mindset. fleeting endeavors and one night adventures was what she sought after in this event. 

“how morbid of you. but alright, i’ll bite,” she commented as they took seat at the bar, the bar tender already present - ‘a round of whiskey shots for us two, please,’ no casual conversation was needed. the tender didn’t bother to smile or nod, heading off towards the right of the bar, taking a few extra orders along the way. it was a busy night, for sure, but he was back within a minute’s notice. she raises her shot, waiting for a symbolic toast to new beginnings, “what would you like to know? i won’t hold back… promise.”

Billie’s answering smile was wicked, “I’ve sworn to be a good girl tonight. Perhaps starting a fist fight in the foyer falls outside those parameters, and we aught to avoid being at eachother’s throats...” Her eyes flicker to the pulse point under Selena’s jaw and she quirks up an eyebrow. “For now, at least.” She winks, accepting the challenge with graceful silence. Yes, Billie could charm the socks off her before the night was over- easy.

there was an obvious secrecy to his newly constructed home.  the architecture and decor lent it towards what one would assume to be a ‘ traditional vampire lair ’.  the victorian style and darkened decor would cause anyone to think as such.  and the more obvious features such as a refridgerator stocked with blood bags for the continuous days he’d spend in the basement whenever a new idea appeared to him.  

and when the wytches had first stepped foot within the manor he saw aprehension in a few of their eyes.  and so decor had been added as well as locking away his more …  repelling objects and hobbies.  and though the party had only started hours ago he was ready for the crowds to leave , decor thrown away , and his house his own again. 

vlad had taken a moment for himself in one of the back rooms and gotten a drink.  upon rejoining the party he found a member of astarte’s entourage.  a small smile pulled at his features.  ❝  the door is always open for dominion members.   ❞  other than that , he was extremely cautious on who he let enter his home.   ❝  fine.  looking forward more to when i can have my house back. ❞

Ah, Vlad. As far as the Dominion went Billie was solely in Astarte’s entourage- only because she’d gotten to the girl first- but he was one of the big hitters too. She didn’t know him well but she was smart enough to be respectful-- or, as respectful as Billie Reed ever got. She just hoped her abruptness was as charming to him as it seemed to be to her boss. “Oh I wouldn’t tell me that.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Back in my day the hip thing was happenings- parties in places not made for parties. I’ll be setting up an amateur bar in one of your back rooms before you know it.” She still remembered how to do that, not everything had been lost along with her pulse. All you needed was some kegs and rubber tubing.

“ It’s too early, darling. ” She agrees moving her body in a way that would cause the most impact. The slit on the side of the dress was carefully placed so that it would show her long legs. A small adhesive was all it takes to defy gravity and keep her cleavage exactly at the right place. Enough to appear sultry, but not cheap. Not with that necklace, enough to buy a mansion in Deadwood. And she has done so. So many jewels adorn her collection that she rarely remembers all of them.

Astarte never stops praising the comforts of modern life. On the downside, there was so much more freedom before. At least in the way that she dressed. Clothes are so troublesome. She would walk either drenched in blood, dressed in fine clothes or naked (&draped in jewels). The last option being her favorite. How entertaining to show others what they can’t have or be.

“ Good point. Even if does happen, the party is Vlad´s. We don´t have to worry about it.” Leaning closer. Oh so close to Billie. Their heights were almost the same, with the younger vaympire being slightly taller. Astarte murmurs in her ear. A game. The two of them adore playing games. “ See that guy in his mid thirties salivating like a horny dog behind me and next to the pillar?” He was probably not the only one struck with lust watching them dance. “  Hear his heart beating like the wings of butterfly.  A councilman that´s on my list of gullible humans. Shall we play a little game with him?”

Elegance had never been among Billie’s primary concerns. As a runner she’d had a certain amount of grace, but only in so much that she was good at staying upright and avoiding trip hazards. She was more power than prancing. Still her second life had afforded her such airs without much effort on her part and it made dancing easy as walking. She wished she’d been this slick as a teenager, could’ve helped sway the few ladies too concerned with her appearance. 

“how people change,” she holds billie’s gaze, a bit quizzical but she nods away at her words regardless. the woman had a point. all the stressing and fettering got in the way of what’s important. her sanity. the night would unfold however the universe saw fit; in the meantime, she would be spending the night with an unlikely friend and see what the other could offer her. selena laces her arm in confidently underneath billie’s, pulling the woman a tad forceful towards her. “consider me charmed.”

relationships have never been her strong suit. in selena’s mind, there didn’t need to be a push and pull, a constant back and forth of opposite thoughts; perhaps it’s why the two clashed often in the past. they could hardly agree on anything long enough to wander their eyes elsewhere. there’s a glint in her eyes when she observes the other. she hadn’t taken much notice to how beautiful billie was. her curls highlighted her delicate features to the point she could hardly recall how unruly and combative she was. “i could’ve sworn i’ve been deemed your least favorite person. i like this other you, though,” she whips around as a waiter passes by, lifting two flutes swiftly from it’s tray. she extends one out to billie, raising an eyebrow at her, “hoping tonight you’ll get to meet another me as well.”

“Give me a reason and I’ll flip again.” Billie tells her quietly, voice full of dark promise and her gaze steady. The tug of Selena’s arm is not enough to throw a vamp off balance, and she could’ve easily been completely unmoved by it, but she’s amicable enough and so follows the direction of the pull, taking a step closer.  “And I’m glad- I’m really quite charming when I want to be y’know, I promise you’ll have a great night with me.” It was the Billie Reed guarantee- an unforgettable night, or your dignity back.

Her responding smile is practically feline, and she is- in a way some might consider strange- very pleased that Selena had really believed Billie didn’t like her. Because it was true, Billie hadn’t liked her when they’d met, but like and dislike were... Such shallow emotions, easy to switch. She’d been dis-likable that night because she was a suspect, and she was likable tonight because she was pretty. “You think too highly of yourself.” She assured Selena in a tone that walked the line between teasing and condescending. “If you were my least favorite person you’d be dead, of course.”

“Mm.“ Maya cants her head slightly to watch the girl drink. “I suppose. You’d think it would taste pretty. Not dry. And it hurts my throat.“ Petulance, thankfully, suits her. She’s learned how to make her occasional bouts of brattiness at least mildly endearing with a full pout, and a dramatic furrow of her brows.

Maya kicks at the water. “I’ve never had whiskey.“ She likes the way the word sounds on her tongue–the draw of a long S, and rise of the E. “I would like some, please.“

“Stars are burning balls of gas.” She reminds the other with a shrug, taking another swig from the bottle, “the idea that they might burn if eaten is not entirely out there.” Billie thinks the girls clueless-ness has a charm- she wonders exactly what kind of supernatural she might be. She chuckles, “if you think champagne burns whiskey might tears your throat out.” Nevertheless Billie pulls a flash from a pocket of her pants, and hands it over.

Billie was a sight for sore eyes. She was from such a different time than Yelena was. Rock and Roll was starting to be popular which had to become kind of an aquired taste for the old vaympire. She preferred the Russian Operas that so reminded her of home. “Not this,” She said, almost agasp. “But a little bit like it. People dressed their best, wore their best jewels, women never came without an escort. The dances were synchronized, everyone moving in perfect harmony to the steps of the music. If you had seen my glory days…but my progeny did bring a hint of it back for us tonight, didn’t he?”

As Billie held her arm out for Yelena, she thought to herself ‘oh, what the hell?’. She looped her arm with Billie’s and walked with regal step towards the bar. “People watching is simply fascinating. It’s one of the things I got good at the most. Looking at other and telling you exactly what they’re thinking. Everyone gives off a sort of…vibe, you see?”  She turned toward the bartender. “Gin, please.”

Despite never quite having slotted into the right place in the era, Billie was a fifties kid through and through. There were others, older, who had been able to guess at her defining years just by her attitude. That and the nostalgic glaze her eyes always got whenever anyone talked about milkshakes or diners. Cliche but true enough.

Annabelle loved seeing Billie in public settings. The girl was always turned to 11 which presented a feeling of ‘anything goes’ that she quite frankly lived for. Getting to know Billie had been incredibly enlightening and something she’d enjoyed more than she actually said out loud. Being the girl’s friend, meal and sometimes a little extra had given her a rush of danger, a hint of never being quite sure what was going to happen next.

The last time they’d seen each other had been outside the Lusty Lady when that prick had tried to put her hands on her. She’d watched Billie fight for her and kill the man in a rather brutal fashion. Most people would have pulled away from Billie after that, but most people weren’t Annabelle. It had been gruesome…terrifiying…but exhilarating. Would she someday be able to do things like that if she found the right person to turn her? Would she be as vicious and cavalier?

“Hm…true,” she said, pushing her hair over to one side and rubbing her neck suggestively with her free hand. “Though, if you’re in the mood…?” She gave a sweet sigh and a nod. “I’m in a…whiskey kind of mood. You look amazing, Billie. Props for being more of a rebel than me. This was…as good as I could get.”

Annabelle was not smarter than the average human. Prettier, maybe, and certainly with more knowledge of the supernaturals around her, but not quicker witted or more intelligent. Turning her into a blood bag had been easy business. The funny thing was, it didn’t even take any true manipulation. Billie could turn her brain to mush, could twist her memories up or make her mindlessly obedient to her every want.

As it happens, all she had to do was flirt. Annabelle was desperate enough for immortality to offer herself up willingly. She’d probably get it one of these days whether Billie had part in it or not- it was that or death, after all. 

The surprising twist was the fondness Billie had developed for her sharp tongue and dark eyes. A begrudging respect for the woman who did her best not to shrink in her presence even after the brutality she’d been witness too- now that, if anyone else came to know about it, was a dangerous flaunting of her abilities. Absolutely something that aught to be wiped from her memory. But Billie had always played fast and loose with the rules.

Her eyes dropped to the pulse point in Anna’s neck, her fingers stretching the skin to make its beating more prominent- not that Billie needed any reminder of it. Her tongue flickered out to wet her lips, and she noted with surprise that she was more tempted than she ought to be. She’d fed recently enough. Perhaps it was just the woman. But yes, she was certainly in the mood.

Astarte made a small curtsy and rested her hand in Billie´s. The two vaympires have quite a flair for the dramatics and care little for the perception of others. Let them think whatever they want. She walks hand in hand with Billie to the middle of the ballroom, where people were dancing.

“ Shall we?” The older woman said allowing the guard to lead the dance.  Since Billie had taken upon herself the role of the male with the bow, it was only natural that she was given the right to lead the dance.“ Please don´t make my dress move too much. While I don´t mind with nakedness, someone might have an heart attack." 

With a gracious nod Billie began to lead- it was actually a position she was very comfortable with holding. The problem with two women twirling on the dancefloor was that the rules dictated someone lead. In itself, not a bad thing. It was when stupid hetero-normative ideals got involved that things got confusing. Women started to blush and stammer and wonder ‘who would be the man’ of the dance.

A preposterous notion. but it did give boisterous Billie the chance to flex her masculinity muscles. It had impressed a fair few women back when she’d had a pulse, her confidence in taking charge and being unafraid of it enough to make them swoon. Astarte, she was sure, could’ve confidently lead herself, but she’d snatched the role early with her bow, and they both liked to play these games out.

the swift movement of the stranger etched a faint smile on his features - she wasn’t of the norm. certainly not of the church. she was not donning the usual gowns, wearing a more sleek, formal wear with both color selections. no doubt the presumed gutsy brunette would be a fair, amusing company to have.

the night was merely beginning, the guests were still searching for the perfect spot, where all wander through. it was peculiar to valentino, the aimless searching. for a more thrilling experience, and the lack of thought. were they not wary? he had to admire the spectacle nonetheless, the inviting pull dealt by each guest who arrived left the night fleeting and never-ending simultaneously. 

he drank the flute graciously once given, finishing the drink in two sips, eyes already flocking to the nearest waiter in sight. “what do you think it’s for?” he led on, intriguiged to hear their theories. he had quite a few of his own, and he was the one who helped orchestrate the festivity. “i wouldn’t worry,” he tried to reassure, but he was only a middleman; the lackey.

Billie knew well enough this was a supernatural exclusive party, so she wasn’t going to be shy about being supernatural. She bordered on inhumanly charming every day as it was anyway. So fucking what if it freaked out the wytches or spooked the werewolves. She was a fucking vampire, and she didn’t get enough chances to properly stretch that. 

She sipped her champagne and zeroed in on Astarte’s particular scent, finding her at the center of a group of laughing socialites. Safe, happy. She turned her gaze back to the bloke beside her. His question made her cock her head to the side, considering. What could it be for? When Astarte threw a party it was for the sake of it, to bring a big crowd to Amarna, to put on a good show and keep the people happy. Nowhere was off limits. 

with a prospect for an event exclusively for the socialites of south dakota, supernatural on top of the fact, selena was curious to see who she’ll see and mingle with. inhibitions aside, the party was the highlight of the year thus far, truly a chance to unwind and ease into the flow of the town. perhaps the recent atrocities were simply such; peculiar and horrific events, but nothing more. nothing a simple curfew can’t fix, no? and the lovely victorian manor was the perfect backdrop for an act two if the killer were to continue his murderous spree, and the thought was inescapable. 

though distractions would arrive and this time in the form of billie reed. oh how her words angered her nerves, but the sultry demeanor made up for the strong attitude - at times. the flirtation felt new, not in a bad way, simply refreshing and she took to the new persona reluctantly. she didn’t speak but opted for walking alongside the other nonetheless. she was still observing, still debating whether to turn on her heels and flee. once they were in the midst of the guests, ingraining into the sea of black and white symmetry. “so, really. give it to me straight. you have no qualms about all of this? as beautiful as it may all seem,” she let the words draw on, the wytch’s on subtle act teasing. “i’m starting to relate to your past defensiveness.”

Billie could hold a grudge well enough. She’d become death incarnate to take down those who’d caused her the most suffering in life- though, to be honest, that particular adventure had bene born more of a desire to revel in her grotesque nature rather than an insistent urge for revenge. Selena had not done much. A suspect for the poison at the party, and a little bit of a liar- to further her social standing maybe? Billie didn’t know for sure. Beyond that any of her scathing comments could easily be put down to the fact that Billie was no picnic to deal with herself.