ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵐʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ❤︎⁠

He had taken over this church from his father before his disappearance, and once he was cleared to return, Nathaniel Hawthorne had again taken up the helm so his father could finally retire. The elder had been heartbroken by his decision to leave, though when he saw his son walk through the door of his home, he had been overjoyed. Claims of the Prodigal Son coming home at last met his ears as his father brought him up to speed on everything that had happened in his absence. Over time Nathaniel fell into the rhythm of day to day life in Salem, and took to his church duties as if they were an old friend.

He was finally where he was meant to be.

A voice at the front caused him to turn. He had never seen this person before, and a part of him wondered if they were one of the tourists they spoke of.

He also made sure to avert his gaze lest he be caught staring where he aught not to be.

"The service ended a few hours ago; I was simply taking time to reflect," he replied, giving the stranger before him his full attention.

❝ You sound kind. ❞

Cupid sat themself in the second pew from the front, leaning against the front pew with wide, innocent eyes. Act a tourist, which technically they were, desperate for salvation, interested in his church. If he truly was the man they assumed he was, he would help them, show them around if he wanted to. If only he was worth devouring, his heart in their maw, but only his blood would satiate them.

If only they were not who they were, their time in the church could be much different.

𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭, but Sanaa had requested help for such a big party. The bouncer quietly hopes beneath his breath that he isn’t expected to play waiter for them all night. He’s itching to get back to his perch—a corner booth on the second floor that overlooks the bar—because the scent of the blood within the wine glasses is making his senses a bit moody.

" There’s alcoholic and non-alcoholic, " he explains to the group. Airin offers the tray to @luvccubus, noting that he seems to be some kind of ringleader in this murder of vampires with how he's carrying himself. Which makes his bouncer's mind click with hope that they’ll all be well-behaved. It’s too late in his shift to be worrying about potential scuffles before closing.

Though making that observation… Airin sets the tray down and addresses Evanidus, " We have stronger infused stuff too if you want it. It’d cost a bit more, though. "

Evanidus was content to leave it at that at first. Allow the man to continue his work && settle in himself with the rest of the vampiric crowd. The young man's scent, ever-changing like the tides of the sea, caught Evanidus' attention. Not human, of course, but he did grow curious as to what the man was.

Taking a second look at him, he was well-muscled, strong, enough to assumedly protect someone if need be. His eyes were as blue as the sky && his hair as golden as the sunlight, like he had been carved by nature itself. Something about him was almost electric, like the very air changed in his presence.

ཐི ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏ ᵧₒᵤ! ) ཋྀ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ⊱༒︎       ❝ I want to fucking PARTY ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ! ♬ ˎˊ˗ ❞ is shouted at the top of his lungs as if he were auditioning for a screamo band ──ཀཀ his enthusiasm is ramped up by the idea that THIS is possibly a blood cult. After all, if he knows anything from his father ──ཀཀ it's HARD to get that much blood without a CULT accepting donations for weeks, even months ──ཀཀ  or killing hundreds as Alucard does. The latter thought visibly KILLS his mood, eyes gazing up with saddened curiosity.

                    ❝ HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE ! ! Where do you get all of this blood from? Be honest here, it's just us vampires, how many people DIE a night? ❞ From his personal experience, it's hard to get FAE BLOOD, as it's almost like actual alcohol to certain types of vampires who can't get drunk ──ཀཀ like himself. Angel blood was the next best thing, but that shit burns worse than Drano going down ──ཀཀ thus the fae blood is highly sought by Aluin.

                     ❝ Please don't say it's animal blood. That's a lie. ❞

❝ The blood sprinkler is usually from livestock we purchase from human farmers, ❞ Evanidus explained, ❝ Different beings here are willing to donate their blood for a sum of money && our group has found a way to purchase human blood for our consumption. However, the blood at the raves is heavily diluted with alcohol, just enough to cause intoxication. ❞

Fumbling around in his desk, he brought out a notepad with detailed drawings of drinks, the ingredients out to the side, ❝ Sometimes two of my children will offer their blood for free, while I do not partake, others have told me it creates an amazing euphoria. It also works as an aphrodisiac. I have heard that it can cause vivid hallucinations too, so do be careful. ❞

As they walked, the chemist curiously glanced around her. She didn't understand the language on the labels, but was immediately curious what it said. Still, Flask didn't want to pry, so she kept her mouth shut until they reached the room that Evanidus entered.

He was a pure-blooded vampire, blessed by the God of Blood && bestowed with unique gifts that made his blood more alive than that of others. Or rather, Evanidus allowed it to act in such a manner, blood was blood && had no thoughts of its own, but his blood was a beast in its own right. He undid the clasp on the front of his coat && carefully set it to his side. Then he rolled up his sleeve && offered his arm to Flask.

❝ Ah... ❞

Evanidus had grown so used to the scars on his arm from the use of his abilities, that he hadn't thought to really mention it. This would be another test. Flask needed to have enough social skill to not comment on the state of someone's body, as some vampires were in poor condition due to the nature of their species.

And then just as quickly does her expressions change to one of confusion. She didn't realize they'd gotten the wrong idea about her relationship with her parents ( well, with one of them at least ) and even when she ran back the conversation she missed where the miscommunication would have been.

Eros shifted uncomfortably, ❝ Um, he's... ❞

❝ He's a shitty fuckin' father is what he is, ❞ Cupid finished, ❝ Look, I don't wanna dump all that on ya', but all ya' need to know about our dad is that he doesn't give a single shit about me or Eros. ❞

They leaned against Eros, an attempt to keep him from breaking down at their harsh words. Any conversation about their father usually ended with him in tears && after the traumatic events the Lady of Rot had caused, Cupid couldn't bear upsetting him further. Eros simply went silent, pressing hard against Cupid's side.

❝ Anyway, tell us about your patron deity. Somethin' t' do with sleep n' dreams, right? ❞ They hummed, ❝ Folks like me can walk through dreams, I'm surprised I haven't run into her at all. ❞