𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓

    THE CAT doesn’t like being read like an open book. Like its his to look at, peel through the pages. Maybe even FIX HER like so many other men have tried and failed over and over. “I didn’t get to be the best by SITTING STILL or PLAYING NICE.” Doesn’t he get it? Felicia is a creature of her own DESIGN. Even now, caught in a web spun by somebody else.

        “everyone is.    not many would bother  actually  doing it.”    it’s not an attempt at  slighting  him,    only what she considers a fact.    the nomads who had congregated thought it was equally  strange  and  interesting  to behold.    not one of them,    garrett aside,    tried the lifestyle.    at least not for long.    “i never count on others not being  stupid.”    though she will admit he’s right about it.    some of the others may not like her very much,    even after so much time,    but she’s a part of their unit nevertheless.    it gives her only  some  comfort.    not enough to lose the stiffness in her posture,    or move from her position beside the tree he stopped her at,    but her shoulders seem to..    relax.    the uncanny similarity of his features makes her all the more confused and soon enough she has to  avert  her eyes completely,    frowning deeply.    “well..    i can take you back to their house…?    class should be over soon.”

       “No, I don’t sparkle, although it would be much preferable to what actually happens if I spend too much time in the sun. I basically start melting.”

     The puppetry between a Maker and their sire. She might have not known her own but the feeling is one that lingers. Now, in the dim overhang of a street light, the shadows crawl as if to taunt her. Mary knows just how enthralled Theresa had been with her playthings. He, included. Larger hands squeezing her wrist did little but flicker primal excitement. Maryam feels it in her bones. Instinct to hurt, to kill. Ichor in steeled veins. Bury it. Kill that feeling. A memory of the past, crumbling, Maryam released her grip on him. “You’re alone.” Words are reduced to whispers, soft like a breeze, despite her act of violence. “Why did you leave your maker?” Blue pools search his own. Honesty. She craves it. It is a test, Richard. Maryam fears her. Would be foolish not to. Theresa is unpredictable. Vengeful. Selfish. If ties were not severed, wouldn’t she soon follow his trail?

      "If you'll put me down, I'll gladly explain." Richard bites out, giving her a pointed look. As she lowers him down, he clears his throat and a hand reaches up to rub at the skin where her hand had been. He takes an unnecessary breath, and takes a moment to right himself. It's really none of her business, was it? But perhaps it won't hurt to tell her. He considers Maryam for a moment, before deciding to tell her the truth. His voice is a bit hoarse when he speaks but after a moment it regains it's melodious tone.

From Night World wiki: Lamia Vampires are one of two branches of the vampire species in the Night World, the other being made vampires. Lamia are characterized by being born as vampires, their ability to age, consume food and be able to breed more lamia children.

In addition to possessing all other vampire characteristics, lamia will age like humans, but can choose to halt this process for a certain amount of time if they choose.

However, lamia who do so must exercise great care, as if they choose to resume aging, their body will quickly age the appropriate amount of years to their actual age, which, as stated by Kestrel Redfern, "if you've been alive for five or six hundred years can be quite interesting".

Richard is a born vampire. For the purposes of this verse we are ignoring that his name doesn't match with traditional Lamia naming convention. Richard is from a family that perhaps was once well known, even considered powerful and influential, but due to various tragedies, became defunct, leaving Richard as the last member of his bloodline, no longer considered all that special or important among the vampires.