i'm only good at being bad

-

“ you´re getting slow…” she taunted evading his embrace and coming up behind him. a fleeting kiss on his exposed neck and the lovers smile when their gazes meet. “ …I win.” he insists that they practice together to keep her senses sharp. THE DESTROYER has more than enough training sessions with the DOMINION´s troops, but he grew restless when she had a different partner. while aware that she knows how to defend herself, every time a blade  came near his mate…better not to test fate. taking advantage of her close proximity the commander strikes. his hand stops next to her neck in what would have been a deadly blow.  astarte knows that there is no danger. he would never hurt her, not even in his worst state.“ what if we continue this somewhere else?” she sees it in his face how he tries to resist given the present audience. an order to dismiss leaves his mouth and the guards quickly clear the room.“ Mama!” both vampyrs stop their advances and look at one another fully aware that effie wasn´t one to make void threats. “ promise I will make it up to you later.” one kiss, then another and a shouted  I love you that lifted the corners of her mate´s lips.

the armory room was located in one of the underground floors of the manor with astarte keeping the weapons that she was more emotionally attached in her private quarters. some reminded her of glorious battles and the smell of the bloodshed still emanates from them quite strongly. to ease her mind or to perhaps remind herself of better times she sharpens every single one of them religiously. besides, what woman doesn’t like shinny objects? astarte’s favorites had a deadly beauty to it.“ no need, child.” astarte replies following effie´s voice. “ it´s in the armory in the off limits zone. I know how much you hate when others touch your things. and now where is my hug?”

-

Child. Any other adult in their right mind would berate their parent for such slanderous talk. But Effie rather enjoyed it behind closed doors. To be the child of someone was so great and all powerful was an honor and she had no issue being reminded of her place. Having a place in such an illustrious family brought out a pride her that she never thought she’d get the chance to have. Her life before was muted and fearful, hoping to have a child and maybe create a world she actually enjoyed with them. Instead she was reborn and got the chance to start anew. Child again, hope again. 

“Thank you.” It was all she could offer to her mother’s thoughtful nature. Though cold and torturous, Effie did enjoy closeness. She enjoyed being known and understood in all her many idiosyncrasies. Most thought her difficult and prissy when faced with her outwards appearance but there was much more simmering underneath the surface. Years of neglect followed by many more years of care and freedom had led to her being quite understanding. Compassion hadn’t quite found it’s way into her heart but passion surely had. Effie loved her family fiercely and with softness and demureness really only ever being used on others as a tactic for manipulation she had her own ways of showing affection- Save for her mother who saw true glimpses of pure and untainted love. She threw her arms around Astarte and squeezed her tightly, grinning to herself. “How are things? Missed me?”

“No. I have had human and Wytch. That’s it.” He has never considered the other species and what they might taste like that. His expression reveals that much. “Embarrassment? I can’t really argue with that. I keep telling myself humans don’t feel guilty about killing a cow or goat or chicken and eating them. They do not weep or feel guilt. They need to eat them to survive. Are vampyrs any different. We need blood to survive. Why should I feel anything about having to kill a human? That is supposed to make me feel better, and sometimes it does but mostly I think unlike cows or goats or chickens humans don’t have to die so we can survive. I didn’t ask to be thrown into your world, but I am a vampyr and I am trying.”  Up came the blood and the bloodlust. He moves over to the lifeless body, reaching out to pick her up, but pausing as Effie spoke. “My parents send me blood bags, which I don’t care for, but I drink them anyway. I usually drink a month’s worth in ten days. I used to have a service I would get feeds from, but I almost killed a few wytches so yeah. My sister lets me feed off her, but I’m-I’m afraid I might hurt her, kill her. I won’t survive that.” It’s what scared him the most.  “Right. Probably best you don’t trust me, I think. Maybe.” He is agreeing with her before he has a chance to fully process what she just said. “You are so funny, Effie. If I vomit, It won’t be in your car, but totally on you.” It’s a joke and with that he walks past her and a few steps before stopping and turning around. “Where did you ninja park?”

-

-

“You should really try to extend your palate. That’s not me telling you to kill other species... If you could. Get on their good side, there’s a lot of strangely generous people out there.” A helpful little pointer from his sage babysitter. Her review couldn’t be all bad, if it was she’d just be back at square one and stay in the same line of duty. Effie wanted to move up, move forward, take her power and actually do something with it. When was turned she’d been saved, there was no morality or questioning to her situation. If anything she and Silas’ opening years being a vampyr couldn’t have been more opposing. He felt for those he fed off, was affected by killing while Effie took everything she could, killed for fun and felt nothing but unbridled joy over it. Freedom was power, power was the ability to do as she pleased. Effie had since learned that she couldn’t quite do as she pleased for fear of being reprimanded by The Dominion but even at that, she tested them. “There’s no right way to be a vampyr, Silas. But you’re going to have to learn to cope, if you don’t this life will eat you up.” It wouldn’t. Either Silas would learn to cope or The Dominion would step in as they always did, as they were currently doing in the form of Effie Myers, and help him along; less of a helping hand and more of a cattle prod. “Don’t you feel stronger when you don’t feed? It can be hard to starve yourself but the results... The results are quite amazing--And, as for your sister, that’s not for me to speak on. If I did, I’d probably suggest you stop. Immediately. It’d only lead you down a road you don’t want to go down.” The idea of mixing family with bloodlust was something she couldn’t quite contend with. Effie had been well taken care of under Astarte’s wings, never having to look for blood, only ever looking for trouble to keep her satiated. “If you vomit in my car, let alone on me I will make sure that you suffer for the rest of your painfully long life.” Effie was teasing, in a way. She knew she couldn’t kill him, but with her, her will did always seem to find a way. “Down the street. I’m not having my car be seen anywhere near here. Where are you living right now?”

.

Sitting in the middle of the floor of the little cabin with it’s pretty wood everywhere, she surveyed her handiwork as she sat on the bed with it’s comforter spread with a thick layer of dried dirt and leaves that made the inside smell like the outside, just the way she liked it. Nodding that it was perfectly comfortable, Mary slid from the bed onto dirty, bare feet, looking down at her toes as she wriggled them against the smooth surface. “Good piggies.” Chuckling a little, her arms came out to facilitate the little spin she did, though the motion stopped abruptly at the sound of movement outside, her nest and the worn and antique copy of Grimm’s Fairytales that laid in it’s center completely forgotten. 

Dropping to a crouch to be hidden from windows that were shuttered tight anyway, she moved with silence as the bedroom was abandoned for the larger main space, and at first she hid. Beneath the living room table, but the felt so exposed, and then in one of the cupboards of the kitchen, but she couldn’t manage to close the door behind her. Finally she chose underneath the bed which was low enough to floor that she could just barely slide beneath it.  The comforter creating the illusion of a protective wall around her all she could do was hold her breath and prey to all the pretty things that the monster outside would go away. Prayed with every ounce of a firmly withheld belief that discovery meant death. 

-

“Hiding from me will do you no favors.” Effie’s voice seemed to bounce around the vacant space. It felt lived in even when it shouldn’t have been. It was caked in dirt and was about as plain as a living space could ever hope to be. It wasn’t any kind of home, rather a ramshackle squat that she’d been sent to investigate. She’d have to speak to her mother about being given better jobs to pursue, this just wasn’t her speed at all. Though Effie enjoys playing the role of detective, knowing that she couldn’t actually rough house or kill the illusive vamps she was after really killed her buzz. With a shake of her head she looked down at her shoes, feeling for them. Her eyes scanned the room and the only signs of life seemed to come the seemingly uninhabited bed. 

The thought of pulling back the comforter made her cringe internally and she decided against it. Instead she moved to the very end of the bed and gripped the wooden frame with one hand. The idea of touching the more solid part sat better in stomach rather than the infested sheets. With one swift motion she thrust the bed upwards with ease and towering over the exposed vampyr. “Don’t just lay there, stand up and let me look at you.” Filthy. That was the only word that came to mind when looking at the girl who seemed to have bathed herself in mud just in time for Effie’s arrival. “The longer I stand here, the more likely I am to drop this bed whenever I please- And I’m feelin’ rather pleased right now.” 

Silas shook his head. “No, she doesn’t have to be.” he argues, weakly. He assumes it doesn’t matter what he says, she was going to kill this human.  He doesn’t respond to the expensive taste and no means comment, but his body language says it all. They way his body swept off and his arms crossed into a closed off position.  He wasn’t going to be so willing to admit to Effie that his dear sister is a wytch and his love for her was the only thing keeping her alive. That and she was smart, quick on her feet. Tiny but mighty. Did you know that getting bashed in the head repeatedly with a boot hurts? A lot? Well it hurt enough to stun him, the look in her eyes, the look he could describe in great detail over and over. It is a deep hurt he will forever have to live with. He shakes his head and pushes the thoughts, memories, away. A clear of his throat and his attention was back on Effie. “Why? Wytch blood doesn’t tempt you? Not even a little?”  Looking from the girl and the bite marks to Effie, it is a look of pride Effie receives, but quickly dashed away by these pesky human emotions. There is hesitation before he finally lets her go. Silas can’t even look at them, looking away and bracing himself. For what? He doesn’t know, but he is sure she is about to kill this human. There is a visible cringe when she finally cracks her neck. He doesn’t look, refuses to, even turns around and stares at the ground for a moment before puking a good amount of the blood he has ingested.  “Must be nice to have it all figured out. To feel nothing.” Nope, he wasn’t done, and out came the rest. Blood splattering on the pavement.  “I’m hungry again.” he spits before turning to look at Effie, but he refuses to look down at the body. “You think you are so smart, feed me then.”  It’s more of a challenge. That and doesn’t wish to have to clean up the body. “And don’t you dare look at me to clean this up. You killed her, you handle it.” He steps away, more so to peacefully pace. He was nervous, anxious and scared. The young vampyr didn’t know how to handle this.

-

“You’ve never had syren blood.” Fey blood was her favorite but she never did like to give away her preferences - cards close to her chest as always. Wytches didn’t stand a chance around Effie, quite happy to rid the world of them. They were greedy and fiendish, a truly terrible bunch. Past experience dictated an abhorrence to everything they stood for. One day she’d avenge her past self but until then she had no qualms with seeing them suffer. “Feel nothing? I feel things incredibly deeply, like my current level of second-hand embarrassment for you is through the roof.” She was being cruel but these jobs had to come with some release for her. Without she’d just running around after the lost lambs of the vamp community with nothing to show for it beyond a glowing report card and a migraine that would last a lifetime. “A babysitter isn’t a nanny service, you don’t qualify for any extra perks.” She hadn’t been struck with having a weak stomach. Even her first kill hadn’t really shocked her, she felt like she could bathe in blood rather than being adverse to it. Watching Silas throw up wasn’t all that pleasant, truly a waste of whatever that young woman’s life had been worth. “Is this your only source of blood? Random chance encounters? You know, we have to feed for life- You need to secure something more... Stable.” Effie just liked to secure partners instead, ones that didn’t mind a little pinch now and again, and those who found it quite rewarding. There were other means, in desperate times underhand deals with blood donation clinics were necessary but the faint aftertaste of plastic left so much to be desired. “Silas, with all due disrespect, do you think I’d trust you to clean this up?” Her manicured hand grabbed the young woman by the throat and dragged her to the edge of the alley, passing folks would be much less likely to see her. She then got busy, sending a text off to one of her house guards to deal with a small mess made. “You plannin’ on throwing up again or can I let you in my car?” 

“I need my crossbow.” The natural followup, always looking for something. Effie really found any excuse to stop by the manor: forgotten items, dropping off impulse buys and digging through her parents vast collection of weaponry. But she always found that they were never really flying visits, lunch seemed to roll into dinner and some nights she’d even find herself staying over just for convenience sake. She only ever really came for the company, everything else was surely secondary. “Mother, I’m going to start digging through things!” She threw her head back with exasperation; a supposed threat depending on how many skeletons she had hidden. 

@astartemyers​

“You’re on Dominion owned property, come out and we won’t have a problem.” Two lies. She didn’t have a clue who owned these rundown ‘homes’, nor was she all that sure that whoever was holed up would make it out unscathed. “Stay in there and that’ll make this much harder than it has to be.”

@contrxrymxry​

Silas took his hand off her mouth when Effie instructed him too. He didn’t have to stop feeding, so was willing to do as he is told.  His fangs came out, but only to pierce new flesh. It was the sensation of his fangs breaking skin, tearing flesh that he is after and he doesn’t even know it. It came natural to him. If something was said about it, he is for sure going to freak out. As soon as his fangs pierced the woman’s skin, the look in her eyes tells them she is trying not to scream, but she does. Can’t help it. The young vampyr is more in tune with his dark nature than he would like to acknowledge.  Her screams excited him and he reached out to grab the woman’s wrist. His intent is to guide that fearful hand to his crotch, but resist out of respect and ends up just holding her wrist as the woman cries out in pain. Both from his fangs and his hold on her. Clearly, he has the ability to control himself. It shows not only in his ability to not cross a line and violate the poor human, but in the action of pulling away from her.  “She isn’t a wytch.” it comes out more as an accusation. The woman tries to take this moment as her time to escape and tries to run, but Silas is quick to grab a hold of her hair with one hand and her arm with the other. “Can’t you just make her forget?” this comes out more as a plea, begging. Remorse. “I just want, I need wytch blood. Just make her forget and I can find another. We can find another.” He is begging, begging for a life that he does not know. He feels nothing for the lives he takes, killing didn’t bother him. It was the fear of losing himself completely, to be so farel. Feeling like he SHOULD feel something, to consider himself evil. There was the look of horror on his little sister’s face.  The judgement in her eyes. His sister always comes to mind, the vision of her face the first time she caught him feeding, the first life he took as vampyr. “I’m not a monster.” He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he really doesn’t. It feels like there are two sides to him. The side of him that was empty, void of compassion, when he was in the act of causing harm. Then there is the other side, the afterthought, the part of him that sees his victims as a person.

-

Darkness came easy to Effie, she was born and bred in it but in those days it was under the guise that there was light to be had. She’d be good to her church and they’d be good in return, she’d marry, have a baby and live the same life her birth parents had. Thankfully she saved herself from the falsities, from a terrible husband and a future that didn’t care about her. Astarte was honest and proud of what she was and Effie lived to mimic that. “What she is, is a fuckin’ problem.” Effie didn’t care if he’d pulled a meyr from the depths of the ocean, it just meant she had a body to deal with it; lucky for him she was well versed. This poor stranger would die, cleanly, Effie would make a call and the whole silly ordeal would be done with. The key was to always come in with the plan. Her mother’s order to watch over Silas came with the unspoken understanding that he needed watching. Young vampyrs usually had a hard time dealing with the honor they’d been given, some struggled silently while others were all too ready to put their distress on display. “So you’ve got expensive taste and no means - That’s depressing.” Effie was lucky to have the family she did, but worked hard to find a way to satisfy her wants and her needs. “I know that ‘we’ you’re talking about doesn’t include me.” Unfortunately it did, in a way. “See I could make her forget, but then she wakes up tomorrow riddled in bite marks, she’ll start talking to people and the last person she was seen with... Well, that’s you.” It was a silly foil she’d come against before. People who should have been bodies reentered her life confused and damaged souls when their suffering could have been much more short lived. “Let her go.” Effie offered gently to ease the heightened situation. Rather than having Silas hold her by her hair she grasped the young woman by the wrist. “That’s where you’re wrong, Silas.” The vamp veteran started, spinning Silas’ victim with ease and seemingly moving to hug her from behind. “You are, we all are. You think monsters get to be feral -  but that doesn’t come with the gift you’ve been given.” With one hand placed overtop the woman’s head against her temple and the other on her jaw she yanked viciously and was met with a terribly satisfying crunch. “If you want to act like an animal wait out in the woods and get one of those oversized dogs to bite you.”

“You know me so well,” Helle demurred. There was a shared sense of intimacy and intrigue, with the embers of each stoked over centuries. Intimate knowledge of vices & virtues, an acquired sense of how to slip into the starring role of said vices – how to be them. There were sparks, and sweet words to keep the other warm before the smoke set in. They were no strangers to leaving each other breathless, or threatening to do so on a more regular basis. 

Helle offered her own smile in response, fully enjoying every motion, each of her breaths, being analyzed. Each discerned placement of her hand got in Effie’s way, and it was a habit Helle wasn’t sure she’d ever break. It offered her amusement, a destructive tendency she could control. It was a shallow folly much preferred to her own self-wrought bouts of misery. 

“I think you must remind me of those details, darkling. Or, rather, should I remind you? The choice is yours.” Helle let her fingers lace into the dark tresses atop the victim’s head absentmindedly, though a sharp yank followed shortly after. She pulled the head backwards, exposing the next ready for the taking. Though it would be a gruesome scene for any lost soul to stumble upon, this was not a peculiar situation for them to find themselves in. Some endings were out of necessity. Helle could just be a means to an end, and others were simply warranted purely out of desire. 

“I’m afraid that’s a bit archaic for the estate. Perhaps we rid the skull of its flesh, and nestle it in the catacombs?” She shot one last pitying glance to their guest, “Paris truly is beautiful this time of year.”

-

“That’s a wonderful compliment coming from someone as timeless as yourself.” If she wasn’t so fortunate with her intelligence she would have had to carry around a pen and paper in Helle’s company. Over a hundred years worth of likes, dislikes, thoughts and feelings all bottled in such a small form; and that was only the sliver that Effie had been privy to. She’d heard some of the tales of old too and only once or twice her phone’s screen swapped from Twitter to her notes app to jot down a Helle-ism or a gift idea - the rest laid dormant in her mind, patiently waiting to used. For gain, for pleasure, sometimes both one in the same.

Effie didn’t like being held up, all too often destroyed people for getting in her way, part of the reason she had such a heavy debt to pay to the Dominion. She and Helle played a similar game, each of their movements were premeditated, nothing went without thought. That was what elevated her and what saved from Fi’s brutality. “It’s terribly cruel to offer non-options. We both know it’ll devolve into one of your poetry recitals.” Something she quite enjoyed though at times it may seem her eyes glaze; only very lightly ‘lost in the words’ or so she’d say.

“Thank you, sweetness.” Fi offered coyly as if the door had been held for her or she was gifted a coat while caught in an evening chill. Instead Helle’s chivalry extended far beyond the typical, asserting herself while offering a victim’s neck for her to cleave which to Effie was incredibly impressive. She did look good, particularly good; absence did often make lust grow louder. In getting an opportunity to look over her, it was nothing short of basking the glow of a warm dusk sun. 

“Unfortunately, that bone structure is best not displayed.” Having a third for Helle to glance over to didn’t suit, he was pulling too much wanted attention. It would have been a quick job had she not made her very specific detour. No sooner has the words fallen from her lips did his body slump, ax deeply wedged through his neck in the tree and his head dangled by his limp hair in Helle’s hand. Her arms crossed over her chest, the show was over. It was a dirty job and Fi quite reveled being covered in the blood of the fallen, but the fey wore the result of standing much too close to a crime scene. 

“I’ll treat you to a new shirt in Paris for being such a good little assistant.” Her smile grew into a smirk now it was just the two of them, arms still folded just begging to be pulled apart. Effie’s eyes landed on Helle’s: a challenge issued. 

once in a while, when a pesky little thing called conscience makes an appearance a question refuses to leave her mind: is she broken? was there ever a time when she wasn’t heartless? distant events, even in the earliest days of her rebirth there was never a time when she felt uncomfortable in violence. if anything she came alive. was this the meaning of being a monster? to reject goodness and condemned it to exile? for a vampyr, astarte was well adjusted in the eyes of the human society. could live among them. pretend to be one of them. however, when the shadows fall and the sunlight fades another takes her place. a woman that has long lost hope. the most painful punishment she could inflict to herself was to ever hope to be whole.she swallowed all her thoughts along with a sense of loss that followed every beat of her undead heart. every time astarte looks at her most beloved child, there is the smile of another in effie’s face. a pale ghostly expression meant only for her. one etched in love and stronger than all the time and distance placed between them. there was something in effie that reminded astarte of another she loves. one without a name, just a smile.

the ax cuts the silence of the night. a wretching smell of fear and like a ripe fruit from the tree of time it falls to the ground. numbness. a lack of sensation. even of the senses. the blood dripping from the headless vampyr holds no appeal. “ a job well done.” the ancient vampyr smiles and claps excitedly like any good audience should. “ yes, we should celebrate on the way home.” instructions are given to clean up and dispose of the corpse. the head should be delivered to the gates of the roman to prove her win. “ please remind the chairman to pay the debt.” astarte’s last words to the guards before she stands up and gives a last look to the fallen vampyr. “ where do you want to go, effie? a night just with the two of us. how does that sound?” the mother extends a hand for the younger vampyr to take. astarte was never shy in showing affection.

Effie never knew her birth mother, not really, not in the near thirty years she’d spent alongside her. That woman was just as much a part of the problem as the rest of the people in her life back then. A font of knowledge but never offered anything Effie wanted to know. Her words were laced with expectation and preemptive disappointment and when her father was present she turned into an echo. It was difficult to love a chasm of a person. In meeting Astarte she understood what it meant to bond with someone, to really have family by blood and not just title. Effie was a Myers but it hadn’t just been a quick swap of her last name, she’d been taken in, nutured and cared for in ways that she never thought she’d get to experience. Others feeling honest joy for her, being proud of her and allowing her to flourish. She was even let make mistakes and helped when the reprecussions were a little larger than expected. 

“Thanks mama, a sharp axe will get through just about anything.” While the bounty slumped, Effie perked up, a glow washing over her thanks to her mother’s praise. It was their own brand of magic, not a sleight of hand but rather a powerful burst of raw energy. Effie felt explosive in Astarte’s company, utterly unstoppable and that followed her wherever she went - incredibly lucky to finally have a role model she was able to look up rather than one she never wanted to be. Sometimes it was too much. she stepped out of line but even at that she still managed to come out on top. “That sounds perfect!” She offered gleefully, watching the guards picking up the pieces dutifully, head and all.  “We can stop by The Belov, I like their cocktails. Busy enough to see the strange of Juneau and quiet enough to hear about your day. That work?” 

Silas couldn’t help but laugh. “Babysitter, are you? A bad one, I’d say.” Licking his lips, he  leans in to continue his feeding when she interrupts him. He doesn’t answer because he hasn’t thought that far ahead. He was desperate for witch blood, blood was all that was on his mind. “Can you please shut up!” he snaps. He doesn’t want to let the voices in, the ones that make him feel guilty and tell him he is a monster. Too late. His grip on the female loosens, feeling less sure of himself now.  Anything that was at attention in his pants wasn’t anymore. “I can’t help myself. It wasn’t this hard in the beginning.”  His grip tightens back up as the woman tries to free herself and get away.  “Are you going to tell Astarte? Are you going to tell my sister?” Now he was starting to panic. “Are you going to make me kill her?!” Silas bites back into her, a new wound under the one before it. The woman screamed, but Silas did nothing to silence her for a long moment before placing his hand over her mouth.

- 

Messy. Effie didn’t care for those who had no control over themselves. Her air of superiority only came after her own trials and tribulations of dealing with becoming a vampyr. It wasn’t easy but she had reason to make it work. “You’re in no position to start asking questions.” He was only offered a labored eye roll for his insolence, much too soon to be kind. “Make you kill her? And let you have all the fun?” A preposterous idea when she was to wander around after him, she’d have to get something out of it. That’s where the Dominion fell down in her opinion, too tight fisted with their perks. Effie was ruthless and diligent, a wonderful duality that made for a perfectly proficient killer who only wanted one thing - power. Power enough to create a crater from where she was first found, to send a legion of vamps to the church that had once claimed her. One day, one day. Until then she would do the grunt work, add more filler to her resume and do what was asked of her until they could no longer refuse her. They weren’t all that lenient by way of murder, a mercy killing or otherwise but what else was she to do with the unremarkable specimen in front of her? Turn the poor girl? That would only add fledglings to her list and she really did value her free time more highly than human life; it was hard to come by and humans were all too abundant. Effie strode towards the pair, finally pulling herself away from her phone screen. It was a sad looking situation but in her mind quite an easy fix as she poured over the young woman willing herself to find and dabble in her thoughts. “If you scream, I’ll make you suffer.” She looked over her nails and pitied their short run, knowing they were about to be utterly obliterated. “Take your hands off of her, she’s in control of her own destiny now.” Maybe she’d scream and offer Effie an evening of pure wholesome torture or she wouldn’t and in turn would be offered a swift yet nonetheless painful death.

-

“ he most definitely did. I’m spiteful enough to turn someone just so that I can kill him again…and again.” astarte is a strong believer of setting an example for the future and to prevent further misdeeds. torturing those that attempt against her existence and displaying it to the public became a form of art centuries past. macabre and gruesome paintings that came into the eyes of those that were meant to appreciate it. hunters trying to make a name for themselves. other vampyrs eyeing her seat at the high council. and many more that she honestly lost count. until one day, astarte no longer had to worry about it. to be quite honest, she misses the time when she had a good excuse to let loose: revenge. now, her guards prevent anything or anyone from getting close. they don’t even let her have some sort of entertainment. risk her safety but enjoy a perverse form of recreation would be an option if she didn’t fear having to replace the entire force. troublesome. her mate, THE DESTROYER doesn´t give second chances or forgives mistakes, even more so when there was a chance that she could get hurt. besides, astarte would never risk her children being used as a way to get to her. a boring and somewhat safer environment would have to suffice. “ you wouldn´t be dead, darling. cutting a wing isn´t enough to kill just to piss me off and lead baál in a murder spree…but that was a long… long time ago.” the vampyr stops herself before going down memory lane and souring her mood thinking about him. 

“splintering…yes, that’s a good way to describe it. seems so simple and yet, so painful. slow. precise. every muscle of the body is nothing but a chord to be played, it makes the sweetest melody. you even regret it when it´s time to end it." the woman is not aware that her sadistic tendencies are a shared inheritance with her father. the creature that roams the bowels of the earth. rules over the abyss of hell and gives shivers to even the ones with sun sprinkled hearts. she sees glimpses of the man.memories turning more vivvid. hellish genetics don’t differ that much from the ones of humans. a trait that in turn astarte shared with her closest creations: the vampyrs. ” every single one. “ she confirmed and smiled considering the next question that effie posed. ” hum…leg bones are extremely painful. the femur is a tricky subject since you can hit a major artery. don´t start there, mom´s advice.“

-

“I don’t think that’s spiteful. Just... It’s an assertion of dominance, you know? An attempt on your life is certainly worth a thousand deaths.” And Effie would have been happy to dole each and every one of them out. She was a particularly astute killer, no case too difficult or traumatic for her to take on. Her reaping was anything but grim, more gleeful than anything else; she took pride in her work and always finished the job. “I know, but you know that stupid butterfly effect. Things could have ended differently.” In other words things could have never started. If Effie hadn’t been lucky and been aroudn to see all the stars align her saving grace might never have had a chance to know her. Though argubly there would have never been an Effie without Astarte, she’d hadn’t really been anything prior to meeting her mother. Before the murder she was hollow and after she was still hollow, chains broken but not yet free. Becoming a Myers, becoming a vampyr -  that was freedom. And anything that might have possibly interfered had the ability leave her torn up heart aching. Love rattled around in there, prickled and burned and reminded her she was alive; kind of.

“I have a hard time slowing down, I’m afraid if I got the chance to do anything to the mayor he’d be dead and gone before I got the chance to enjoy any of it.” Sure, the idea of stapling every inch of his skin or needling him to death was all well and good but she would struggle to keep herself from portioning him into five seperate pieces and letting him die of shock. Traitors deserved to suffer, like that of their entertainment for the evening, but the mayor deserved something more. “Then his unimpressive legs are saved... For now.” Effie eyed him up and wondered what next, if not his femur then perhaps an arms, though he’d bleed out just as easily. “Maybe we’ll get a drink on the way home? After this finale?” With a spritely grin shot towards her mother she stood back and held gripped her ax firmly before cleaving his head clean from his shoulders, a blow that some might have confused with her attempting to take the tree down with him. There was a dull thud as his head nestled amongst the dirt and she left her ax planted in the tree before pulling a hand through her hair. “Another job done.”

@effiemyers​

Silas  was  outside  Nocturnal  Tavern.  He  found  this  was  a  fairly  easy  place  to  find  humans  to  feed  on,  but  sometimes,  okay  most  of  the  time  he  was  just  looking  to  get  laid.  But  tonight,  he  for  definitely  was  looking  to  feed.  It  didn’t  take  but  an  hour  after  he  arrived  that  he  had  a  girl  out  back,  her  back  to  the  wall  and  her  lips  on  his.  To  most  people  passing  by  they  would  look  like  a  cute  little  couple  making  out,  but  those  who  knew  better  would  see  he  wasn’t  being  cute  at  all.  There  wasn’t  much  kissing  before  he  had  her  pinned  against  the  wall  and  sunk  his  fangs  into  the  flesh  of  her  neck,  letting  her  blood  flow  into  his  mouth.  He  placed  both  hands  against  the  wall.  Feeding  always  made  him  a  bit  hot  and  bothered,  but  that  is  one  thing  he  would  never  take  by  force,  so  it  felt  more  respectful  to  keep  them  on  the  wall,  using  his  body  to  keep  her  from  fleeing.  He  had  not  taken  much  before  he  vaguely  hears  someone  behind  him.    He  was  always  at  his  weakest  and  most  vulnerable  while  feeding.  Forcing  his  lips  away.  "It’s  rude  to  stare.“  he  says  without  even  looking  behind  him.  If  the  person  meant  harm  to  him,  he’d  be  harmed  already,  but  he  wasn’t.

-

Effie was outside Nocturnal Tavern; a place she’d never be caught dead in, unless under great duress. A mother’s request counted as a sort of duress, the kind of obligation that she couldn’t even attempt to ignore. Watching over a new vamp didn’t interest her but she did pride herself on keeping her mother happy. When charged with responsibility she wished to undertake Effie was diligent, somewhat of a perfectionist in the lengths she’d go to for a job well done. That included venturing to Nocturnal Tavern- Did anyone even live in this part of Maitland? She was almost certain she could smell the beer sodden booths without even passing over the threshold: something she would not do - her shoes wouldn’t allow for such abhorrent conditions. Instead she laid in wait. Twitter was a fine friend but she found herself half way through a cigarette when Silas finally vacated with company. She followed, hot on their heels. “You’re really going to talk to your babysitter like that?” Effie shot back before glancing down to her phone, trying to secure plans that would make this whole venture worth it. “Planning to leave her for dead or have her identify you tomorrow?” It was her greatest asset -  always having a plan. Sometimes defense, mostly attack but always two and three steps ahead. Effie wasn’t in the business of being caught out, she’d been trapped once and vowed never to be trapped again. 

where: utp

when: october 2nd, mid day

life had seemed to slow down since making south dakota her home. her father had seemed to loosen his search for her. which made life for her more…calm and tranquil. minji watched as the birds swooped form tree to tree and sing their songs to one another. she fought to forget about the life she had led before now. how she had drained the life from several unsuspecting victims for her father. and all for what? to be ostracized from her siblings? it hadn’t been worth it and now that all she had was her brother (of whom was still clearly struggling with losing a sister) she regretted her decisions more every day.

with a day off, mini decided to destress and walk around the towns that mapped out her new home. after all, shouldn’t she get to know the area. it had been four months and not once had minji gotten to know a single soul or venture far from her home or work. it simply hadn’t crossed her mind to do so until now.

-

Effie was on the second hour of her hour-long lunch break, enjoying a cigarette in the heart of Juneau. Nothing to do, no interest in heading back to work and she was crying out for a distraction. It wasn’t that she was high maintenance though she did enjoy finery, rather it was a difficult task to keep her embers stoked. Consistent entertainment and engagement was hard to come by and when her joy fizzled she tended to explode in the want to pull herself from the valley of boredom and hit a peak again. But then like a watchful magpie, she spotted something shiny that pulled her full attention. 

“ extremely.” she replied and then added a second later. her ruined leopard printed jimmy choo’s were weighing on her conscience" my shoes are covered in dirt, but a woman has to make some sacrifices.“ one of the very few things that she has to give credit to humans are their fashion advances. mostly highly expensive shoe brands. they made the most beautiful master pieces. had she been human and having to withstand the discomfort of heels an entire day, her opinion would have been different. all things considered astarte was still a firm believer that her own skin was all she needed. unfortunately public decency demands that she covers at least some parts.

” old school, you say? once had an ax thrown at me. the coward didn’t have the courage to face me and fight like a man. instead tried to cut my left wing.“ a grimace when she thinks about losing her wings. quickly followed by the sweet memory of pulling her attacker´s arms and using them as weapons against their former owner. ” had it been a wooden stake carved into my back, the result could have been different.“oh the times of old when she would fight. feed.enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. make plans for the future in the arms of her (deceiving and not so dead) husband. most often than not in that order.” wood needles are also underestimated torture instruments. my way of acupuncture in no way is meant to ease suffering.“effie was getting even better at maneuvering her deadly toys. an applause follows the man´s terrified squeals. ” marvelous shade of red, darling.“  there was no point in doing her manicure often, since astarte liked to get close and personal with her kills. a waste of time, even if she has many to spare. ” guess you will have to try and see. can’t be that different from breaking all the bones in his body. from personal experience I can tell you that it’s possible.and nowadays anatomy books are very precise if you are not sure of the position of each one.“

-

Effie glanced at her mother’s shoes and felt for her, appreciating the support through the ruination of what were once a beautiful pair of heels. “You didn’t have to. But I’m really glad you did.” She thought the day she murdered her husband was the day she’d lost whatever semblance of softness she had, utterly shredded by the way she’d been forced to live her life. In being adopted and reborn by Astarte she regained a certain level of personhood, the ability to give and to take herself as freely as she wanted to. When it came to her mother Effie offered the woman everything she had. Every success she had was because of her, every failure was soothed by her and all Effie wanted to do was make her proud and do justice to the life she’d been gifted. She vowed to never give up, never give in and to always, always get whatever she wanted. Not in any kind of heinous way like highway robbery, rather that she would set and fullfil goals, never resting until she found herself victorious. The church that had sought to contain her would be set alight but she had to bide her time. Smile, act silently and wait to strike when in better favor with the Dominion. 

“That’s just cruel, hacking at appendages like that.” Effie offered thoughtfully as she watched her victim’s newly seperated hand twitch out it’s last movements nestled in the grass. “I’m assuming he got what was coming to him? ---Had it been a stake I do wonder where I’d be now. Dead, I think, but you never do know.” Many thought that the young vamp was fearsome and ruthless and she wondered why they thought she had any other choice under her adoptive parents. The Myers surname came with power and support, a lineage of utter domination. That ax wielding fool probably destined his whole bloodline to be swept viciously off the face of the earth. “Like splintering someone to death?” Her brows were knitted but as it stewed a mischeivous grin crept on her lips. While Effie liked to pride herself on being innovative, her mother was one of her greatest inspirations. So many passing doses of wisdom and casual notes of how to reign terror down on those deserving (and those not) around the wilds of South Dakota.  “Every single bone?” That was something to ponder in the slower hours of her ‘job’. It’d be hard to start with his neck but it could be a fun project to work on when given the chance. “What do you think is the most satisfying bone to break?” Effie asked as she poured over her entertainment, watching him squirm and attempt to untie himself using his handless stump, failing miserably. 

“ by all means do have your fun.” as if it was the most ordinary of the occurrences, astarte picked a fallen tree nearby and pulled it into a position that made it a comfortable sitting place. there was no real necessity since vampyrs are not plagued by fatigue, if they are well fed. however, when enjoying a spectacle one should have befitting front row seats.the aesthetic wasn’t a trend just of today’s minds. why does a ruler needs a throne or a crown? in no way does it influence their power. it´s a matter of ego and image. even in the middle of a forest, astarte could make a fallen tree into a throne for a queen. it´s a matter of self confidence and carrying herself like one. now the vampyr was watching her child prepare a rather gruesome presentation. her behaviour was a way to display the honor that was seeing effie at work. a nonchalant attitude from astarte would be disrespectful towards the younger woman.at least she would refrain from cheering like a soccer mom, that had to count for something.

“ wooden stakes are also very effective and easy to make.” she continues their conversation without the minimal concern for the man about to be killed. that was the beauty of her: while an inherently caring, even motherly being, astarte was capable of the cruelest actions in the next heartbeat. correction she has no heart. a duality hard to believe until witnessed.“ but I will always prefer using my bare hands. makes it all more personal and enjoyable.” she crosses a leg over the other in a relaxed manner. if she was human at the mention of the MISER, astarte would have sighed. honestly, the man wasn´t that bad. a little too eager to please them could be considered his major fault. she also knew effie and why being assigned to him was a penance. sacrifices had to be made for the greater good and to clean her daughter´s bad reputation. nothing that astarte personally found extremely reprehensible, but alas.“ until that happens you can think of the best way to do it. during high council meetings I sometimes pass the time imagining ways to kill my enemies. not quick, or slow, just the right amount of pain. it’s the best therapy.”

-

Attention, it was a such a mixed topic for Effie. Everyone wanted attention in a way, needing to be soothed by other people, recognized by them. As a wytch she received plenty of stares and stolen glances from men who wanted to worm their way close to her; invade her space and take hold of her personhood. There was only space for one and it went to the highest bidder. It was so strange to be so coveted and then once secured be left so abandoned. A strong hand began to feel like a leash at social events, his eyes were the only attention she was allowed to acknowledge without being berated behind closed doors. Effie wanted to be seen, heard and felt and had done everything get out of the trap her beauty and her family had left her ensnared in. Astarte saw her, understood what she was looking and actually believed in her. No one had ever expected her to be anything beyond a fine body to gaze upon in the silent beats of conversation, but the mother’s love that she was flooded by changed everything. Her new found self belief was based off something, she had power enough to be as threatening or as helpful as she ever cared to be. Though partly dead, she’d never felt more alive. “Comfy?” She waited patiently for her mother to settle into her thrown before spilling any blood, not wanting her to miss the show.

“Wooden stakes are a little too... Old school for me.” Effie fired off the cuff as she eyed the man in front of her, barely conscious but still managing to cower. He had nowhere to hide and every ability to piss the vamp off even further. A hand first. In one clean cleave it separately from his wrist, a red river poured over the ax’s head and down the tree’s trunk. Effie pulled her ax back out of the tree, twirling it triumphantly, reveling in the man’s terrified squeals. “I do like my shorter daggers but I really hate destroying my nails. What do you think?” She held out her hand for her mother to judge, a set of freshly manicured crimson stiletto acrylics. “That mayor...” Effie hummed out a wickedly laugh. “There is no right amount of pain for him, it’d just be the most amount of pain I could inflict before he keeled over. I think I might hole punch him to death. Just one at a time. I’m not sure if I could staple someone to death... Though I’m not above trying.” 

Pandora grinned, splitting from ear to ear as she listened. She would never dream of taking that first swing away from a fellow…executioner. That was how she chose to think of it anyways. If she were honest about it (or with Lilith) she thought a natural order under way. There were those who wanted to spill the blood of others and there were those who took matters into their own hands. Pandora was one who took matters into her own hands. Though she was held back by her sister. Though those ropes binding the two together were well on their way to being severed. She shook her head, curls bouncing with the sudden movement. “No, sweets, there is but one man in my life and he’s…well, let’s just say he’ll be mine again eventually. Oh no, precious,” she purred, “I would never take that away from you. I was just going to ask if I could join in the fun.”

Pandora’s eyes wandered to the victim. Her eyes glossing over with want. Her hands shaking but only slightly. It had been an awfully long time since she had dared to end another’s life. A sigh echoed from her as she brought her gaze back up to meet the other woman’s. “It has been a long, long time since I’ve spilled blood. But all that is going to change very quickly.”

Upon closer inspection Effie was confused as why she wasn’t seeing double. Murder was her greatest hobby, second to that was knowing things. The woman in front of her was one of a pair though she was unsure of which one she was speaking to. Twins did intrigue her though, she wondered how much more deadly she’d be if multiplied by two, and if they didn’t share her dastardly interests at very least she’d have someone be liable for her actions if she wasn’t looking to take the fall. “What are you, like a Born Again Christian?” She was half expecting the woman in front of her to name her Lord and savior as the main man in her life, that or the devil. Effie didn’t have time for men, no matter how grand nor how pretty, each just a uselessly fiendish as the last.  “Misery loves company and this, this little fool is about to be miserable.” The vamp smirked almost giddily at the prospect