the night had been long, but he wouldnât show any signs of weakness, barely keeping it together over the death of bambi. the last few crowds of people had been something of a blessing, he could throw himself deep into work and simply go through the motions of scooping ice cubes and pouring things. his senses kicked on when someone UNDEAD entered the bar, as they always do. he doesnât give it too much thought because it could have been anyone from old to young in the sea of patrons. nevertheless, they were all his enemies and he would treat them as such in the honor of rosamie.
he should have seen this coming with all the bad luck heâd accumulated over the past week or so. still, turning to see every sitting there, reeking down to perfect flesh, sent a shiver right through him.
âget. out.â he said in an instant, not caring who could hear such a growl in the two words which hung out in the air loudly.
To say she was surprised wouldnât be fair. After all, sheâd wandered into his neck of the woods with no real expectations. And yet he still managed to defy them, lashing out with a razor sharp tone she hadnât thought him capable of. For a moment she wasnât looking at the lone wolf sheâd grown so fond of tormenting these past few years. She was looking at an alpha who attributed his hatred of her entire species almost entirely to her. Heâd managed to suck the fun right out of the visit.Â
âOh, stop,â she retorted with a breezy wave of her hand, refusing to acknowledge the curious eyes that peered their way, though she couldnât certainly feel them. Ever since Rosamieâs death sheâd been forced into high alert, her senses keenly attuned to her surroundings--especially necessary with her penchant for walking into reckless situations. It seemed almost everyone had been affected one way or another. She just hadnât expected Beck to be one of them. âYouâre giving me way too much credit. I havenât even said anything yet. I could come bearing great news.âÂ
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He sensed her moving towards him as the air around him gently stirred. He didnât react, in fact he barely moved an inch. His eyes moved from left to right as the jogger moved along, focused on the sound of their pulse, blood pumping through their body. He could imagine how it felt to sink his fangs into their jugular, feeling it pierce the skin before the crimson liquid filled his mouth and satisfied his craving. Being here was only torture if he didnât act on his primal urges; like dangling a steak in front of a lion, the predator wanted to pounce in the prey.
Normally heâd be more welcoming to someone joining his side. Itâs not that the company isnât wanted, because right now he could use a distraction, it was just that his mind was on a million other things and blood was right at the forefront of that. His eyes glanced over at her, face expressionless but eyes filled with pain and anger. âCouncil lawsâ he reminded her, although if anyone had caught him, heâd be subject to those laws too. Â As another person came down the path his eyes went back to them, though they werenât jogging and they were casually walking by. As they came closer, he licked his lips as he practically fantasized about the taste of their blood. They werenât moving by as quick as the jogger had and it was proving more than he could handle as he started to get up from his seated position on the bench.
Her brows furrow as she watches him struggle, eyes flicking nervously between his painfully visible fangs and the oblivious passersby. âCouncil laws are really just suggestions...â she counters, though it doesnât come out quite as breezily as sheâd hoped. Something in his eyes makes her falter. On one hand she wants to run, almost overwhelmed by the emotion that starts to drive him forward. She couldnât think of a single situation where she should be the responsible one and itâd be so much easier to let him handle his own mess. But on the other, she knows that while sheâd have no problem giving into her hunger (at least a little) and compelling her way out of any consequences, Thad would. Itâs enough to send her body careening in front of him.Â
Her hands reach for his face, wrenching his gaze away from the passing human gently enough that if they looked over it would pass for a loverâs squabble. âThaddeus, look at me,â she urges, her hold on him tightening. She lets her body press in closer until sheâs flush against him, her face inches away and her lips offering a tight smirk. âHey, letâs go back to my place, okay?â Her hands slowly trace down his jaw stopping to rest at the back of his neck where she draws soft circles. âI bet I can help you relax.âÂ
CASSIUS GLANCES OVER JUST IN TIME TO SEE HIS JACKET DROPPED, lips twisting together when he recognizes elvyra. normally it would be good to see her, a happy occasionâbut lately thereâs been very little to rejoice about, and right now heâs just not really in the mood.  â i think thatâs my jacket you just stepped on, â  he says instead, before taking a sip of his drink. he knows the other vampire too well to know that chastising her will do him any good.  â the manhattans here are good. but i wouldnât get too comfortable. my company should be arriving soon, and youâre in their seat. â  okay, maybe thereâs a little bit of lightness in cassiusâ tone.
The jacket looks so far away from her perch and she gives a half-assed reach before turning to him with an exaggerated pout. âAwww... Well, I think your jacket looks better on the floor.â A play on her favorite pickup line, and too applicable to resist. She even pairs it with a suggestive smirk, quirking her eyebrow at him as if posing a challenge. He wonât bite--especially not now, all things considered, but she hopes itâll distract him at the very least. Sometimes in the wake of grief thatâs all you can hope for, and sheâs nothing if not distracting. âCompany,â she echoes, her smirk growing by the second. âWell, well, well. Whatâve you got, a hot date?âÂ
LOCATION : Central Park, Manhattan.
STATUS: Closed @immcrtalsââ
When one is a thousand years old, and mortal lives begin and end time and time again, it is difficult to avoid death. Thad was no stranger to it but this was a loss that hit hard. Rosamie had been the one to give him and extra shot at life, and truth be told heâd thought sheâd be around for as long as he was. It was unexpected and the state of shock and numbness had not yet worn off. Heâd been somewhat MIA in the few months prior and couldnât help but wonder if there was something going on that he might have noticed had he been in town.
Heâd needed air, and as the sun had fallen and the night sky blanketed the city, he headed out. After a walk around central park to clear his mind heâd eventually taken a seat on a park bench watching late night joggers go for their nightly run. Every now and then when one would pass a sharp fang would protrude and eyes darkened, but only momentarily, proving he was only just in control. Â A baseball cap pulled down low covered his face, luckily no humans eyes would be good enough to see the changes to his features under the dim moonlight.
Elvyra wouldnât normally be able to sneak up on Thad. He had centuries on her, decades upon decades before her great great grandmother was even born to hone his senses and master his control. The fact that she could see that perfect resolve slipping, and in public no less, was almost as shocking as the news of Rosamieâs death. The loss had clearly hit him hard.
In the wake of her murder, her guard, which had gone lax in recent years, was back up in full force, her mind on high alert as she scanned the park. âOut of the ordinaryâ had an entirely different scale in New York but her senses werenât picking up anything of real concern to her or Thad, whom she felt compelled to look after. While he was more than capable of defending himself, if she could sneak up on him, anyone could. In the blink of an eye she was casually sliding herself onto the bench beside him, debating whether or not to rest a comforting hand on his leg. âYouâre showing, you know,â she offers unhelpfully, watching as a jogger bounced by with an incredibly cute dog. âMaybe scaring the living shit out of these people would make you feel better.â Her eyes flash to his and she lets her own fangs extend, digging into her smirk.Â
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If Elvyra really sat down and gave it enough thought, sheâd realize her instincts had always been off, even as a child. Sheâd run headfirst toward danger, bored to death by the ordinary. She didnât want âsafe.â Didnât even want âcontent.â She lived in extremes, curious to a fault and always testing boundaries desperately searching for more, more, more. Perhaps that was how sheâd stumbled upon vampires in the first place. The voice that shouldâve whispered in her ear âgo! run!â didnât seem to exist. Instead, a different voice--a louder one, impossible to ignore--urged her closer, beckoning her with promises of adventure. Excitement. The devil on her shoulder had gotten her into more trouble than she cared to admit, yet she couldnât seem to stop.Â
Her boredom would turn from a small, nagging itch to something with claws, crawling around in her skin, begging to escape. Sheâd let it go for too long now and before she could make a conscious decision, her feet switched directions of their own accord, a smile already pulling at her lips. He wouldnât be expecting her--the last heâd heard, sheâd left town a few years ago and, while thereâd been whispers of her return, she didnât think word traveled quite that fast. Or that he even bothered with the gossip. The prospect of seeing his reaction for herself was irresistible as ever.
The doors to the Wolfâs Eye were upon her and just as quickly, she was through, breezing past the patrons and perching herself at the bar nearest his turned back. It was a risky move, ambushing him here--entirely reliant on the fact that they were in public, surrounded by humans and the supernatural alike, and that she knew him to be generally uncomfortable and annoyed by undue attention. He wouldnât cause a scene. Would he? But before she had the chance to second guess herself he finally turned and her smile turned feline. âHello, Beck.â @fvlsewavesâ
No matter how many times he would encounter her like this over the years. He learned to leave it as just that, an encounter. He stopped questioning, stopped wondering what the little moments meant, or if it was significant. So when she had looked at him longer than usual, he simply nodded his head. âMake mine a Vesper.â he states as his attention was then back at her. Her question was loaded, did he miss her. if he had said yes, it would be an answer sheâd want to hear. âJust a little.â he teases. âDid you?â
âOh, terribly,â she purrs, punctuating it with a playful pinch of his nose in exaggerated contrast to his fairly minimal enthusiasm. It was almost insulting, though only called to mind the way sheâd left. It wouldnât be fair to hold his reaction against him when sheâd disappeared on him without a trace. Again. âYou know, I donât know why I go. No one out there loves me quite like you do.â While the sentiment carries a deeper truth, she delivers it lightly, nothing more than a casual joke. Why does she go? âSo whatâd I miss, hm? Whatâs been happening in your fascinating little world? How long has it been?âÂ
     AFTER  CATCHING  UP  WITH  rosamie  before  her  friend  had  to  attend  to  hostess  duties  ,  hera  is  perched  at  the  bar  with  a  drink  in  hand  .  technically  ,  the  seat  next  to  her  is  vacant  .  however  ,  the  coat  perched  on  top  says  otherwise  .  she  feels  the  presence  of  another  and  before  she  has  a  chance  to  say  the  seat  is  taken  ,  the  younger  vampire  is  already  removing  the  jacket  and  taking  the  seat  for  herself  .  â  it  usually  depends  on  my  mood  ,  â  takes  a  sip  of  her  drink  .  â  for  tonight  ,  iâm  more  partial  to  a  manhattan  .  â
Her eyes snag on Hera, attempting to feel her out, but sheâs giving her nothing. Vampires are more difficult to read, sometimes having centuries of experience schooling their features and concealing their true emotions, other times having their feelings turned off entirely. âHow predictable, always letting our loyalties lie with Manhattan,â she teases, though little mirth actually finds her eyes which are too busy studying as she pushes. Ninety nine years and itâs still impossible to resist the urge to test boundaries. âBesides, I meant for me.â A feline smile before she turns to the nearest server. âMartini, please. Dirty.âÂ
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What was he suppose to say? he could only smile politely as he sees her make an entrance as always. He stands to greet her, feet moving forward as he leans to place his hand behind the curve of her back. He lightly presses a kiss on her cheek. âElvyra.â he nods âIs it not?â he tilts his head âYour choice?â as always.
Her eyes flutter closed at the contact, even the tiniest smile transforming her face into something soft as she leans into his touch. And when she opens them they linger on his just a moment, searching, though she isnât sure exactly what for. âTwo martinis,â she eventually directs to the waiter, breaking the spell. Her choice but his suggestion. âAnd make mine dirty. Extra dirty. Pornstar dirty.â By the time she faces him again, she feigns complete innocence. âSo... dâya miss me?âÂ
The bar was the second best place to relax, with drinks coming in, Dorian couldnât complain. He spotted his best friend at a distance, happy that his friend was having a good time. Drinking a glass of bourbon, he picked up on another approaching. Tilting his head to the side, he noticed a jacket dropping by the nearby chair. Only to see a very attractive person in place. Dorian was very traditional, so if he had to pick, it would be âMartini, but after all it is your choice.â he states with a smile.
ââAfter all it is your choice,ââ she mocked graciously, her face dropping to match her melodramatically lowered voice. âNo âhi, Elvyra?â No âlooking absolutely effervescent tonight?â No âIâve been dying to give you the money I owe from that poker game you eviscerated me in five years ago you brilliant, brilliant thingâ?â Her brows arched high on her forehead and her lips pursed expectantly, but her eyes glimmered with playful charm. Coming back to New York was always scary but seeing his face made it feel a bit more like home.Â
There was no excuse for boredom. Not here, surrounded by beautiful, glamorous people all dressed to the nines and buzzing with excitement. Not after the lengths sheâd gone through to get an invitation after being away from the city for so long, though it felt like just yesterday that sheâd descended the stairs on the eve of a different year embodying a different theme. It all bled together in a sea of monotony, perfectly poised smiles, camera flashes, and overpriced cocktails. While every seat around the nearest bar appeared taken, she didnât let it deter her. Instead she chose one with nothing but a jacket keeping it reserved--a jacket that she wasted no time dropping to the floor and digging a heel into as perched herself atop it like a throne. âWhat do you think, Martini or Manhattan?â @duskstartâ
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( ana de armas. cis female. she/her. cinnamon girl & lana del rey. ) have you seen Elvyra Ramos strolling around central park at lunchtime? rumor has it theyâre actually 99 years old, but iâm pretty sure theyâre only 29. theyâre currently posing as an artist, but when dusk falls, you can usually find them heading home to Manhattan by subway. apparently they did attend the met gala this season! ( lyndsay. 25. she/her. est. ) @duskintroâ
background (tw; mention of ambiguous consent because of vampire compulsion/intoxication)Â
Elvyra was born in Cuba but immigrated to the US with her parents just before her 7th birthday. She doesnât remember much from that time, except for her love of her grandparents and a threadbare stuffed rabbit that was tragically lost during their travel.
In fact, most of her memories of her human life are blurry at best (itâs why sheâs taken to journaling). She remembers struggling to fit in, feeling embarrassed by her family, feeling like sometimes she had to protect her parents instead of the other way around.
There were people in her neighborhood she couldâve befriended. People with shared experiences and a shared language that wouldnât expect her to change, but she craved acceptance from everyone.
She remembers learning to do what she could to blend in with everyone else. Perfected her english and masked her accent, styled her hair, tailored her clothes and did everything she could to feel like she belonged, and it didnât take long for people to notice.
It was right in the midst of the great depression, but Elle hardly noticed. Her parents had always worked hard for little pay and she was used to making do with what they had. Instead, she had simpler things on her mind. School and friends and boys. As a girl who constantly sought approval, she quickly learned that boys would give it to her freely if she just bat her eyelashes and said the right things the right way. And the other girls didnât like it.
And the more she agreed to do, the more attention she got. She garnered quite the scandalous reputation at the time, trading in one type of popularity for another. Luckily, this one was much more validating, and her promiscuity became something of an identity to her.
Her self worth had become very wrapped up in her sexuality and she thrived under the forbidden attention, sought it out like a drug, always chasing a stronger high. This lead to a life driven by the reckless pursuit of pleasureâfeeling wanted was an addiction, just a step away from feeling loved. It was only a matter of time before a vampire stumbled upon her, a beautiful young woman in her early 20s just begging for a bit of excitement.
The rest of her human life passed in a blurry haze. She had a vague awareness of being passed around a small coven of vampires alongside a few others, their blood constantly feasted upon. While she doesnât remember much of it, she doesnât remember being anything but happily plied with sex, alcohol, drugs and what food she needed to keep her alive.Â
There was no real reason for the small coven to keep her around for as long as they did but she spent years being toted around and doted upon, encouraged to participate in all sorts of debauchery until one day they took a little too much of her blood and, with a blissful smile on her lips, her vision faded to black. When she woke up, she was a vampire.
It was disorienting at first. She went off on her own for a while, traveling here and there and adjusting to her new normal, ever in pursuit of pleasure of those years of vampire compulsion.Â
Feeding off humans wasnât ideal, she didnât hold any animosity toward them, but she did love the rush of power after a fresh meal. Once sheâd learned some self control, she kept would drink just as much as she could without killing anyone.
Sometimes she feels like, with unlimited time at her disposal, nothing matters. She can be prone to bouts of depression interspersed with brief periods where sheâs determined to see and do everything there possibly is. It was on one of those benders that she found herself in New York City, a hub of the supernatural.
Being surrounded by so many people who understood what it was to be âotherâ made her feel like she belonged, a feeling that sheâd spent her whole life searching for, so sheâs stuck around for a while. Sometimes sheâll disappear for a while, either exploring or wallowing or just getting off on her own freedom by ditching the shackles of responsibilities, but she always comes back. She hates to miss the drama, and thereâs been so much of it recently.
She doesnât work--doesnât like to and has never had to, especially once she became a vampire--so sheâs currently just posing as an artist in Manhattan.Â
personality
Elvyra is selfish above all else. Sheâs looking out for number one, and that means doing what she needs to do to survive/ get ahead/ have fun. she does have a sense of loyalty to other vampires, but that could just be because she knows going against her own kind wouldnât serve her well in the long run
Self-control is not her strong suit. She wasnât the most responsible human and now that she wrestles with the idea that nothing really matters, she can be even more careless. Instant gratification is her MO. She wants what she wants when she wants it and is prone to impulsivity.
Sheâs also motivated by a craving for acceptance. She often feels lonely and is desperate for anything that makes her feel loved, wanted, or otherwise like she belongs. Sheâs a hopeless romantic at heart, but a cynical one at that. 99 years without her perfect match has made her a bit jaded.
tldr;
elvyra has just been trying to fit in her whole life. first as an immigrant in america, then an adolescent in school, then a young woman in society, and now as a vampire in a world where she has to hide. in her quest for belonging and excitement she stumbled upon a coven of vampires that kept her for years until they accidentally went too far and turned her. sheâs spent decades traveling, chasing highs and searching for where she belongs. sheâs promiscuous and impulsive and selfish but knows how to have a good time and is ultimately not too terrible of a person. she loves sharing opinions no oneâs asked for and generally defying authority.Â