velvet nights

“Damn, the moon. That really is shooting high,” Hunter said with a grin. “You’d have to build some kind of construct so you could breathe, though, so better take some engineers and mechanics with you.” He shook his head, taking another drink as he thought. “I don’t have anything as exciting as that in mind.” He shrugged. “I’d like to go to Oklahoma. That’s where I’m from, originally. I’d check out the reservations there, see if I can learn anything about my culture and heritage, since I don’t know much right now.” He scrunched his nose briefly. “That’s kind of a lame answer in the face of your whole … Man in the Moon bit.”

“Any why would you say something like that?” Her voice is soft as she leans forward like she’s waiting for a secret. “There’s nothing lame about learning where you came from.” Of course, for her, lineage was a lost cause. For what would she pass down if she were to sire? “I simply have different aspirations.”

     at hearing the number closed off eyes with years of ice open in a split second of vulnerability. after the other had left, knox deemed himself an afterthought to her. everyone leaves eventually, he’s a bus stop on everyone’s far better journeys. to control his emotions he bites into his inner cheek causing the taste of iron to seep through his taste buds. he chooses not to comment, though it feels as if those very words are going to rejoin him later and echo through his head during more sleepless nights to come. he leans back against the nearest wall, propping one booted foot against it and letting his head slip back till it meets the cold stone. a dark breathless chuckle escapes him, heading coming back down and seeing the smile. “doubt my little ventures will be as interesting as your own.” he slips his tongue over the inner of his injured cheeks and swallows before seeking out his own cigarette craving the comfort of nicotine. “a couple bank robberies here, couple rich wives now sobbing over empty bank accounts, big jewellery bust etcetera.” the last part he refrains from mentioning a necklace that made him think of her and still sits in his home, unlike the other pieces making their ways through the black market.

It’s a familiar scent. His blood. And she smells it as soon as the pierced flesh bleeds. She takes another puff of her cigarette while she slithers to his side like Eden’s favorite snake. Her eyes peer through her lashes at the company, one true look, then she wilts. “Unfortunately not. I’m afraid I’ve retired.” She says it like it’s a death sentence. And to her, it is. She didn’t do too well in hiding. Unbecoming, she calls it. But she only allows herself to mourn for a moment. 

Her life was never really hers. Not really. She had given it away to so many different people, places, ideas - any noun, really. The one thing she could never manage to steal back - a terrible thing to lose so often. And so her entire body gives into the sigh that follows her confession. “Ah, well, perhaps I should take up gardening?”

It always felt murky, the morning after. Little clips and pieces of horrible things he’d done, beautiful things he’d seen, things his human mind could never understand. The only thing that ever felt real, however, was the pain. And the guilt. That’s what he woke up to, only able to focus on the hurt. There’s a weird sharp, metallic smell around him, and what vaguely registered as French. …Did he run all the way to France? No, wait that’s ridiculous, there’s, like.. water. And that awful wall– that he could remember: furiously throwing his form at it last night, scratching at it, unable to understand why he couldn’t run. 

“Mmh-” Mateo rolled over, curling in on himself, and registered heat near him. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw fire- fire place. Oh. He sat up rather suddenly, taking in the room, turning, and- there she was. “You? Why– where- what the fuck-” God, he hated morning-afters. “Where am I? God, it– stinks in here.”

“Yes, well,” she begins as she rises from the floor. She takes another sip and the blood from her cup stains her lips. “Not everyone has developed a taste for it.” As she looks at him she can see he hasn’t. His body and mind still torn between here and the night before. Struggling to hold onto the humanity he has left. And in this moment, she wonders if somewhere she holds her own still. It’s a little less than a memory.

“You’ve had quite the night.” Her steps are an easy kind of slow. Like Sunday morning. He looks less helpless than when she found him, but still not helpful. “Don’t worry. You were a good boy last night.” This, of course, was not the truth. Guilt, she knew, had a nasty bite and he looked to have been suffering enough. She would take this kill. Until he became friends with his curse and learned something of control. “Now, how long has it been?” 

She smiles, laughing lightly.  Ah how she missed Esme.  There were very few that the dragon could share this kind of banter with.  Eldrid quirked a brow to the vampire, leaning in closer.  “Then let’s have a bit of excitement.  I refuse to live in a world where Esme Rosu is boring.”

The wilted flower blooms at the thought. “As you command,” she purrs. The smile was back and as resilient as the Santa Ana winds. “If I am to die in this cage, let me not go into the dark night without a good time!”

“Huh, interesting,” Hunter mused, wondering if the raven was tied to his own culture in any way. Growing up so far from his father’s tribe, it definitely contributed to a lack of true understanding of his heritage. All he knew of his ancestors were things his father told him while he was growing up, and that never seemed to really even skim the surface, leaving Hunter somewhat adrift in his sense of self. He’d always wanted to return to Oklahoma at some point, but with the dome now trapping him here, who knew when that would be?

“I’d definitely like to fly,” he added with a grin, grateful for the new levity. The other stuff felt somewhat heavy to him, at the moment. “Okay, I’ve got one for you: if you could fly anywhere in the world, right now, where would you go?”

“Hmm,” she hums. She had traveled this world many times over. And she was sure she would many times more. “Why limit ourselves to this world? How about to the moon and never back? I think the Man in the Moon and I would get along swimmingly.” It was a cozy little thought. “What about you? Any grand plans for adventure?”

     “i thought i toned it down a bit there, i can always up it to my usual flare?” there’s some sarcasm dripping into the vowels. though it’s hard to hold onto any bite in him when he feels her lips. every ounce of breath he has collected with his lungs escapes him and dark hues are momentarily lost behind heavy lids. there’s a dampness left when her lips leave along with the usual tingling. he swipes his finger over it seeing ruby red and without a second thought places it between his lips and licks it away. “and you haven’t aged at all.” he pretends to think over the time, he knows how long it has been but he refuses to admit it. “did you expect me to count the days, esme?”

“You mean you haven’t counted all 996 of them?” Dejected in the face by his nonchalance on the matter. It has violated her skin and crept into her bloodstream. Sleepy and slow, then fast and all at once. That was her curse. She either felt nothing at all or everything all at once. And now crushed stars are all she can taste (besides the now lit cigarette between her lips) with the moonlight beating on her shoulder. “No matter,” she cooed through puffs of smoke. Her lips curl into a Machiavellian smile. “If you were too busy to count the days then I’m sure you have plenty of fascinating tales to tell. Indulge an old friend?”

She chuckled along with her, “good, I have to say I agree with you on that one,” she smiled before closing her eyes for a moment. “I see a warm place, somewhere darker than most, but homey,” she opened her eyes. “That sounds horrible to you, doesn’t it?” she blushed

Home. It feels empty to her. An empty word or one she’d forgotten the meaning of a long time ago, but she manages to push a laugh through this. “I spent most of life in the dark. I had better like it, no?” Yet she still couldn’t quite picture it herself. Always the one to leave before any roots settled. Before anyone could even scratch at the surface. “Warm and dark sounds cozy though,” she says with a sigh. “Almost as cozy as a hot toddy.”

A statuesque man with a crooked smile and dark eyes - both of which did a great service for his tragic lack of substance - appears before them in suit and tie. “Mademoiselle Roşu, a word.” His eyes dart between Esmé and Mateo and when her gaze does not falter he continues, “The man,” he whispers, “he has departed this transitory life.” She cocks an eyebrow and nods, “To the next world then.” He stands still until she flicks her wrist, “Hurry,” then he disappears.

She sips from what appears to be a glass of wine - though thicker - darker. “You must be exhausted, dear stranger.”

Gabe chuckled. Of course Esme wouldn’t be getting involved, since he’d known her.. She had always been neutral. It was nice though, someone he could go to incase he ever needed a reality check. He nodded as she spoke French, in the thousands of years he’d been alive, he hadn’t bothered to learn a lick of French. “You know I don’t speak French, Esme.” He chuckled. He shrugged. “I know we’re not build the same but that’s why I find you ever so interesting.” Gabriel replied sarcastically with a smirk and small laugh. 

“Honestly Gabriel, you give a creature eternity and this is what you’ve got to show for it?” She turns, her body becoming languid across the chaise, like a wilted flower - legs dangling over its arm, head perched upon his lap like her favorite pedestal. “It means nothing lasts forever, my darling. If I were to aid a particular side in this veil debacle, either of your brothers could have my head. Then who’d entertain you?”

“A raven, huh?” Hunter ruminated on that for a moment, taking another drink of his beer. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that. It seemed like kind of a random choice, since his first guess would’ve been a dog or a cat or something of the like. Obviously she’d given it some deeper thought, and he found himself curious.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he asked, moving to sit down across from her finally.

“Yes, I think so,” she says with the confidence of a king. “Ravens are fascinating little creatures, don’t you think? They represent introspection, knowledge, and rebirth. They’re able to find light in darkness. And some Native American tribes call the Raven a ‘secret keeper’.” She leans forward with a smile, “Plus, who wouldn’t want to fly?”

          he hadn’t intended to stay long - just show his face and say hi to a few people he had made friends with since arriving in town. but jake had never been good at knowing when to call it quits, which was how he’d ended up several drinks down and dancing quite literally as if no one was watching. he was about to head up to the bar to grab another vodka when he finds himself being spoken to, curiosity alighting his features. “weirdly not the first time i’ve heard that.” jake grins. “though i’m hoping this time it’s not because i’ve fallen on my ass and not realised.”

“I’ve always had a particular liking for those that fall. Especially the ones who have gotten back up.” They’re sticky sweet words and she feels them with every fiber of her being. “Which it seems you have.” She finishes her glass of wine - raising it for another. “Are you celebrating something or is this more of a hobby?” 

The dragon snorts and rolls her eyes, a grin on her lips.  “Bathing in the blood of virgins really does the trick.”  Finally getting her drink, she takes a sip before sending an amused smile towards Esme.  “And how have you been mjor?  You’re certainly looking well.”

“Ah, yes. The tried and true method.” Esmé is all smiles and bright eyes. A kindred spirit to lift her spirits. “Oh, Eldrid stop. You’re making me blush.” She sinks into herself, “I’m simply ruined. I’ve always said only the boring get bored. But I’m so terribly bored.”

𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕖 - “this could be the best thing to happen to all of you.” from esme ( @esmerosu·· )

         “the best thing, huh?” knox quirks a brow at the brunette, expression a tad pinched but he’d deny it. abandonment issues on top of abandonment issues causes a knotting in his gut at the sight of the other but he’d rather shapeshift into a toilet plunger before admitting it. “think a lobotomy would be luckier but beggers can’t be choosers.” 

“Oh, Knox. Don’t be so dramatic,” her words are a parseltongued whisper into the night. She was always very fond of him. Even after she left. Two lonely halves of a whole - traipsing around the world taking whatever they wished. A dusty daydream now. Her hand gently caresses one of his cheeks as her lips meet the other. The blood of her dinner which stains her lips now leaves it’s mark on his face. “You’ve certainly aged handsomely. How long has it been?”