wander.

@feyhuangjun

werewolf blood is not an indulgence that weixin often finds himself taking part in. even centuries ago, when he had still been human, he hadn’t been very fond of alcohol. the lack of focus and control, becoming incapable of caring for himself, let alone the younger siblings he was left in charge of, was too regrettable to be any fun. as a young man, he had learned that moderation was the key to maintaining social relationships while keeping his wits about him. but every now and then there’s someone, a friend who knows him a little bit too well, who manages to get weixin to break his own self-imposed boundaries. it’s a rare sight to see this vampire stumbling drunk. but every now and then, it happens.

warm with werewolf blood, he walked away from the vampire friends he had been hanging out with for the night. and kept walking. a thought entered his head, a sort of itch that demanded to be scratched. he would have to admit he got lost at some point, the city yet a little unfamiliar and changed since he had last visited decades ago. but he is still a vampire, and scent and sound help him navigate his way through the streets. he’s looking for someone. not for any particular reason, he just wants to see him, and the drunken weixin is not one to deny himself of anything.

he makes his way up to the door, steady enough on his feet that he doesn’t have to lean against the wall or the door frame, and pauses. he tastes a familiar scent in the air. he listens, and he knows only one heartbeat is behind the walls separating them. if there had been two, maybe he would have had the sense to walk away. for self-preservation, if nothing else. but with no perceived danger to stop him, he raps his knuckles against huangjun’s door. and then he notices the doorbell, and just in case his knocks were too quiet he rings that too.

feynari​:

( TW : mentions of blood & gore, injury, and vulgar language bc nari has a potty mouth sometimes i’m sorry )         there are days where it plays along just like any other, you follow a routine from the moment you wake up to the time you close your eyes for sleep, it’s ingrained into you and most don’t even realize it. but sometimes, routines can be broken, and sometimes the routine is FORCED to change. which brings nari to her current predicament, limping along the sides of buildings and slinking around corners trying to remain in the shadows. humans can’t see in the dark like she can, HUNTERS can’t. which thankfully gives her the advantage when it’s in the middle of the night, and she knows this side of the city like the back of her hand.          nari tries not to get blood everywhere, knowing that hunters had the ability to track werewolves like her with even less clues, if she’s going to be their nightly hunt she sure as hell is going to make it damn near impossible for them. and that’s a promise to those assholes.          the arrow is still sticking out of her leg, only because of one thing, if she had taken it out a couple of blocks back there was no way she’d be able to stop the blood flow with the little supplies she has. so she’s opted to leave it in there for the time being, just until she can get out of the open, but holy hell would this be a bitch to rip out. nari can just tell by the way it’s lodged into her thigh muscle, how with every certain movement it seems to rip her flesh just a bit more. the only thing she has managed to do is tear a sliver of her tee shirt off to tie above the wound to try and stop the excessive flow from exiting the injury. she knows her adrenaline pumping through her veins is most definitely not helping either.          finally, after what felt like hours dodging street lamps and random scatters of civilians, nari manages to find a secluded enough alleyway to venture into like a rat. and after she feels that her attacker is probably left way behind, she crouches down onto the pavement, her back to a brick wall as she finally rips off her black hood. face damp with sweat, small dried streaks of her own blood when she must have absentmindedly wiped at her face with crimson fingers marking fair complexion here and there. her chest is still heaving, body trembling after it begins falling out of the shock of being mutilated. she scoots her more so that she’s more shielded behind a dumpster, not wanting to be caught off guard again in such a vulnerable state as a delicate hand slowly begins to wrap around the shaft of the arrow. trying to mentally prepare herself for the even more excruciating agony she was about to force herself through once again…          in her head she begins a countdown for her impending doom ; three one-thousand … two one-thousand … on—         bloodshot eyes snap open when she hears the worrisome tone calling out for anyone in dire need of help, and nari is almost tempted to growl. surely that would send them running hearing a possible wild animal in the midst of the city, but she remains quiet because one thing is for certain. there wasn’t any fucking way a normal person could tell that she’s there, especially because she hadn’t made a damn sound …. whoever or whatever this person was, was danger. nari is a wounded animal, and you know what they say about hurt wild animals ?          you shouldn’t mess with them. 

CONTENT WARNING: blood, injury

once he’s closer, he can sense the picture more clearly. her blood smells sweeter, sharper with the adrenaline pumping through it. her heartbeat fluttery, breath rapid. he knows she’s trying to hide it, as all injured creatures do, but there’s the hint of a hurt whine in every gasp of air she lets out. werewolf, injured, probably ran here from somewhere else. he lets his lips part just slightly for his next breath, tasting the air for any further details. not only do his senses get slapped with the rancid smell of fresh pavement only three blocks down, but he can pick out something else: the harsh, sterile scent of silver. so the werewolf has been shot by a hunter. no wonder she’s stiff and silent.

weixin should just move on, leave the hunters and wolf to their business, but there is a nobler side to him that can’t leave a woman in turmoil. perhaps it’s an old, chauvinistic habit taught to him centuries ago in his youth; a mindset that he can’t quite shake no matter how well he tries to adapt to the modern world. it’s not that he believes she’s weak, at least not if she had been in a healthy, unwounded state. but he knows her hurt and knows she may not survive the night if he does not intervene.

“i’m not going to hurt you,” he speaks softly into the darkness, taking his first steps toward the injured woman. she’s hiding, sheltered on at least two sides. survival instinct of humans and werewolves has never ceased to fascinate weixin, though he’s rarely the predator these days. they seek shelter and comfort in many of the same ways. “but it sounds like you need some help.”

he gets his first visual glimpse of her as he makes his way around the dumpster. she looks just as bad off as she smelled and sounded from a distance away, and weixin’s heart goes out to her and her pain. he’s had to pull arrows out from his fellow soldiers when he had still been human; he hasn’t forgotten their agonized screams even centuries later. how she had been able to bite her tongue and stay silent with the shaft still digging into muscle is a testament to the woman’s strength. the vampire crouches down, eye level with the werewolf, removing aggression and intimidation from his body language as much as possible. it’s not as instinctive for him as it might be for a werewolf, but he’s old and wise enough to be wary of the danger.

feyjisung​:

danger seem to follow jisung wherever he goes. he has gotten used to it—in better terms, he hasn’t, but he had grown numb to such dangers that he doesn’t react to the endless possibilities that come by. his senses as a werewolf only serve to heighten the overstimulation he already has to deal with from the voices in his head, that persists and even became stronger after his transformation. there are many distractions from his mind alone, that everything else becomes secondary.

he surrounds himself with hunters, it’s merely a matter of time until he encounters a vampire as well.

to his surprise, he’s able to defend himself well enough that the vampire only managed to make him bleed—it doesn’t matter that his arms and legs have taken the hits, and that there’s a trickle of blood running down his neck from the moment of weakness he displayed—he’s managing. jisung doesn’t think he would have escaped this ordeal if the vampire in question didn’t seem disoriented. he’s not sure why, a lack of blood? was this vampire mad? either way, jisung had a slight advantage, or at the very least they’re evenly matched enough that he isn’t facing immediate death.

unfortunately, the struggle continues, with jisung eventually shoved against a wall, his own arm serving as a barrier that’s stopping the vampire from sinking their fangs into his neck. normally, he’d let the vampire take whatever they wanted, but jisung came to a revelation recently. even if it wasn’t for himself, he doesn’t want to be completely helpless. he doesn’t want to be letting his friend fight for him—that being said, it’d take a while before he reaches that stage where he can use his abilities for his own sake after a while of trying to suppress them.

so when he hears a voice he doesn’t recognise calling into the darkness, jisung doesn’t speak or scream—the voices within his head are doing too much of that. instead, he kicks a can in the direction he thinks the voice is coming from, hoping that’d be enough of a sign, plus the vampire before him is also distracted from that little act.

CONTENT WARNING: blood and violence

his eyes focus in on two moving forms in the darkness, both human in appearance but nearly opposite scents coming from each of them, different sounds. from one, labored breathing and a frantic heartbeat. from the other, hardly any sound at all. weixin notices the sweeter scent of the blood, something that makes even an experienced vampire feel tempted, and knows exactly what’s going on. it’s a scuffle between a vampire and a werewolf, and he’s not sure who exactly started it.

the werewolf kicks an old can toward him, the tin rattling and echoing loudly against the solid alley walls, and weixin still can’t determine who the instigator is. a sort of empathy extends to the vampire, being of his own kind, but he has the patience to try to restrain judgement until he knows what crimes he is facing. no matter who started the fight, it’s dangerous. humans could see it, or worse: get caught up in it. and if the vampire is lucky, the council will get to him before the hunters do. so it’s weixin’s only option to break up the fight before it’s allowed to escalate any further.

it’s only the werewolf who’s bleeding and he seems to be the one struggling more. without asking any more questions, weixin darts into the darkness, right toward the battle. he’s behind the vampire when he’s jamming his fingers into his jaw, prying apart his teeth and dragging him off of the werewolf by the fangs. it’s not the first time weixin has had to pull a vampire off of someone, that’s for sure. the thing hisses and writhes in his arms, too weak to put up much resistance against a well-fed master like weixin, but too crazed to recognize just what it is that’s going on. weixin doesn’t yet know if this one can be fixed with a bit of blood and locating its sire to teach it some manners, but that can’t be his primary concern right now.

he sinks teeth into the vampire’s neck. there’s not much left in this system; no wonder it had been going mad. it tells weixin enough to know that the little werewolf was being attacked, not starting a fight. he spits out the stale blood and twists the younger vampire’s head around, letting them fall to the ground in a heap. they’re not dead, but they won’t be able to move for a while. enough time for weixin to make sure the wolf is still alive and figure out what to do with the vampire.

OPEN STARTER

no one quite realizes how much the city stinks except for those who have no defense against every little scent in a generous radius around themselves. weixin has gotten used to the overstimulation of his senses throughout the years of course, but there are still moments that catch him off guard. the wrong sound, the wrong scent in a place that he doesn’t expect it. he’s practiced enough that he doesn’t often show his shock the moment it hits him, but there are some things that will never stop being surprising.

it’s only instinctive that the scent of blood captures almost his entire attention the moment it’s brought out into the open.

accidents happen. children fall and skin their knees, a chef in a neighboring restaurant slices his finger instead of a vegetable, a woman pricks herself while mending a hole in her favorite dress. the younger weixin, the fledgling who had gone years without a sire to teach him how to keep his most brutal impulses in check, had gone absolutely wild at the smallest scent. the modern weixin is haunted by those memories (or in some cases, lack thereof) now. and every time new blood is spilled without warning, he’s reminded of the time before he knew how to control himself. a thousand apologies could never make up for the lives he had cost centuries ago.

now though, he makes up for his past sins in any way he can. he slays the vampires who act as he used to; the modern council in this area are strict enough on the upbringing of fledglings that weixin doesn’t have to stop and second guess if they didn’t know better. some vampires lose their humanity after mere decades. weixin does everything in his power to bring himself back closer to what he had lost all but completely. so he follows his nose to the source of the blood because as far as he knows, no one should be bleeding here. unless they’re hurt. unless there’s another vampire biting them. in either case, weixin can offer his help if need be.

the scent grows stronger until he feels like he’s almost on top of it. a dark alleyway. of course. the perfect place for an attack: human or otherwise.

@feykijung

it’s not exactly a code, not entirely a ritual, but whenever cai yizhen visits his mother and his adopted brother, he always knocks twice on the door before letting himself in. he’s always invited, they’ve made that very clear in the past. and it’s always like coming home as if hardly any time has passed at all, kissing his mother’s cheek and wrapping kijung in a kind half-hug as good brothers do. this time there was someone new, someone unexpected who yizhen did not account for. he’s not mad that no one told him, just a bit guilty that he doesn’t have anything to give him on this visit.

his love language is giving gifts. he picks things up as he travels, from novelty items to expensive antiques, whatever happens to catch his eye at the time. the last several decades were spent in china, his first home. to mei, his mother, he gave a delicate jade tea set. they can’t really drink water and leaves the way they used to, but he knows they both try anyways. for kijung, it’s a stack of postcards from the various cities he’s visited, a panda-shaped thermos, and an ornate knife etched with the same animal. nothing for kyuhwan, who he didn’t know existed let alone joined the family since the last time he’s been here.

“you’ll have to share with him,” he apologizes to kijung, who was probably already counting on it. already yizhen has noticed the tender interactions between the pair. he says nothing about it, but he watches with interest regardless. it’s good for a vampire to have a companion; eternity gets quite lonely. “i’ll bring something for him next time i come. what does he like?” of course yizhen will get to know him before he moves onto his next destination again, but it’s not a bad idea to start somewhere.

hi everyone! sorry for taking so long to get a proper intro up but life... yknow....

anyways, thank you for the welcomes i’ve received for this new muse, but i’m not actually new to the rp at all! i also have the meddlesome @feyhawon but i got bulldozed by a completely opposite sort of muse so even after i told myself no vampires.... here we are with a vampire.

before i go any further i just wanna say that i’m plotting Best in hawon’s dms these days, but i do have a twitter for plotting as well if anyone prefers that! available upon request.

anyways, his profile and history are still a little under construction, but let me introduce weixin a little bit: