Mara Mac Cnáimhín

outside obisidan

Diego had been following the witch for a few minutes. He didn't start off the night with the intent of being a stalker but after seeing her, he needed to get some answers.

His abuela had left the hacienda to a Mexican Heritage Preservation group so he can't be mad about that but she hadn't told him where she left her grimoire. It had been left to him in her will but when he went through her things, it was nowhere to be seen. The phial witches had told him about her. A witch that specialized with death.

He had heard other whispers about the witch, that's the reason he's keeping a solid fifty foot gap between her and him. He's doing his best trying to keep to the shadows without letting her get too far but every time she rounds a corner and breaks line of sight, he almost loses her.

Slipping into the bar was easy, it had become a regular haunt of hers after the young El-Amin had taken over. The atmosphere suited her, and it had enough of a reputation that even if she did run into a student, it wasn't somewhere most would feel comfortable approaching her at. She snagged a table close to the door, waving a hello to the server who likely knew her regular order by now, and waited. To his credit, the boy didn't leave her waiting long, just time enough for the server to deliver her drink, and then he appeared in the doorway. She used the time he took to orient himself to observe him, trying to place his face, to see if she could ascertain why he is following her. Mara leaned back in her chair, drumming her nails against the table as she watched him scan the room before spotting her. She waited until she saw the flash of recognition in the young man's eyes before speaking, grinning wolfishly as she asked, "Can I help you, boy?"

"Uhm. D-doctor Cnáimhín?"

It's hard for Autumn to repress a wince just then; Dr. Cnáimhín's rules about saying her name put her on edge - and like, fair enough! Names are important. But she's heard the 'one chance' rumors, too, and this dead languages class is one of her favorite electives, so she doesn't really want to fuck up any impression she's made so far. Which is why she's been practicing.

The class is over, and she's waited kind of quietly for the class to empty out. "Do you have a minute? I'm going to be out of town for bit coming up, and I was wondering if I could make up anything ahead of time, or if there was anything I could do remotely while I'm gone? I-i- if that's okay."

The witch had had her eye on the young woman for a few weeks now, noting the differences from her boring human peers, and waiting to see if she would approach or make their shared position outside the societal norm known. She was timid though, if Mara were to guess she was newly turned, though she had no way of knowing if the timidness came before or after that change.

"Everything should be outlined in the Syllabus." she reminded the young woman, and was tempted to leave it at that, but the young thing intrigued her, and it was fun to have students who belonged to the supernatural community in class. "Any in class activities will have to be made up. You can convince other students to have asynchronous or remote study sessions with you, which I highly recommend, or I can give you a number of prompts to write extra papers on if you would prefer that."

He's considered the idea of looking for someone at the gala, but ruled against it. A distraction like that wasn't worth his life, entertaining as it might be. He'd resolved to be content with the drinks and the interesting conversations the night had to offer, and little else.

"Regardless, I am glad you are enjoying yourself, and hope you don't limit your enjoyment just to this evening. There is plenty of enjoyment to be had, and besides we hold a unique position within the supernatural ecosystem at the moment so we can and should be leveraging that whenever possible" She wasn't sure how the rest of Garnett felt about the daylight jewelry situation, but she knew for sure she would be making at least one piece of jewelry. And Hell, a few more vampires running around in full daylight would cause just the chaos that Mara fed on. "Have you gotten a look at the ritual yet?"

where: The Conclave Gala, Outside Gardens

She needs them to know, even if the timing isn’t great. The three of them stand like some unholy trinity in the narrow garden just beyond the ballroom lights—Caitlin centered between Mara and Estela. Cigarette smoke wafts over from the patio, threading ghost-grey ribbons through trimmed boxwoods.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, Cait draws on the new current that runs straight from Tenebris, and a veil of violet witch-light snaps over their heads like blown glass. Sound compresses, air thickens, the ward vibrating with a deeper resonance than anything she could cast a week ago. Can they feel it? That she’s something new?

“Thank you for watching the coven while I was away,” she says, meeting their eyes one by one. A crooked half-smile tugs at her mouth—equal parts gratitude and apology. “If anything had blown up, I’d have hauled myself back in a body bag. That would’ve really killed the vibe.”

Estela watches Caitlin flex her magic - notes how it feels. Different. She can't quite place it, but the energy thrums in the air and tickles along her skin in a way that reminds her of the way she feels when she sees a disturbed ant pile. Some sort of primordial discomfort, chills that go up to her face. It doesn't last very long, and she quickly gets used to it, despite the odd feeling.

She glances towards Mara, a slight laugh on her lips at Caitlin's joke. "That would have been a hassle for me, specifically, Siltshore, and you know it." Her fingers tap along her forearm, and her gaze shifts back up to the witch light above them.

The magic Caitlin used to cut them off and offer privacy held hints and whispers of something familiar, something that nibbled at the back of her mind, a memory trying to surface not from this life. But the magic was there, cast and then gone so quick that she didn’t have time to snare some of it before the spell went off, and she let the thought fade.

“What’s a little death between friends” the older witch teases “A bodybag is plenty to work with, I can always bring you back if needed. I’ve got plenty of ways to pay the blood price banked here in Port Liery. Besides, I would hate to leave Estela with such a mess cleaning up after me and Siltshore.” She’s teasing, but watching how every word lands and how the other two react. “If you’re going to Italy you are required to give me keys to the guest Villa, Eris could use some sun”

She's known for years, how infused with magic this city was. Overflowing with supernaturals, calling more each night like a beacon in the dark. She's lived enough lives to know it was something deep into the foils of this city that gave magic and took all at once. It shouldn't had been a surprise when she caught the familiar scent, of death and something more. Something sweet, a perfume she'd know anywhere. Clinging to them even when death did them apart. Until it didn't.

But it did, because of all the faces and people Lana's encountered in this city, Mara Mac Cnáimhín wasn't someone she expected to cross paths with. And she wondered almost amusedly, as she followed the almost eternal witch's scent, how long would it take for her darling wife to make an appearance. Eris seemed to have a sense to find the witch whenever she found her way back to the land of the living. So Lana knew the vampire would be around soon enough. A visit she looked most forward to.

"Don't you look young as always." She says conversationally, approaching the witch with hands tucked into her pockets and a knowing smile on her lips. The witch might had changed appearance, but Lana hasn't, and she knew the recognition would be soon to come. "Almost like you hadn't die at all, must be some kind of new cream, I'm sure."

When she had failed to locate her wife, Mara set her sights on another Vampire, one who always found herself at the thrumming heart of supernatural goings-on.

Oregon was not where she expected to find Svetlana, but she had long ago stopped trying to understand all of Svetlana’s impulses. She had watched long enough to confirm that Eris was not with her friend, before circling, crossing paths with Svetlana’s life often enough to begin to weave a loose web, and lead her to a restaurant she knew they could speak freely at. It was outside the winery that Svetlana found her, and she was more than happy to be found.

Port Leiry had become something of a beacon to Eris on this continent. Someplace she found herself returning to, half growing roots while she waited. Extended business had kept her away longer than she would have preferred. She was in town only a day when news reached Eris' ears about a persistent little necromancer had popped up in town. This time she was a professor, a small smile twisted at Eris' lips at the information. She was never one to do the same thing twice. Eris spent the daylight hours browsing the universities website, and websites like rate my professor. Mara Mac Cnaimhin. Eris let the name dance along her tongue, who was her heart this life? Mara, Mara, Mara. The name sang to heart. Just a few more hours of waiting, until the sun set below the horizon.

As the sun sank below the earth Eris set out for the campus. It hadn't taken much to find the class schedule online and college students were to easy to compel to ask for directions to the lecture hall she needed. Eris entered the lecture hall a silent ghost, sitting the back row and resting her feet against the chair in front of her. The vampire watched the figure move across the front of the classroom, what should be a stranger. Yet as the lecture continued familiar mannerisms rebuilt the figure into the women she had dedicated her immortal life to. The way her hand flicked at words that ended with a harsh sound, The way her eyes rolled when a man spoke louder than any of the other students. Most importantly Eris could hear her heartbeat. Steady and Familiar. Oceans of time could not keep Eris from that sound.

In a flash the lecture was winding down. Eris waited till the last of students filed out catching what she assumed was the teaching assistant by the arm before she left. "No one is to come in here until your professor leaves. Thank you darling." It was spoken low, the layer of compulsion woven into each syllable. Eris reached up and gentle patted the TA's cheek before sending her out the door.

Eris sauntered town the stairs. Taking each step to make a grand entrance. Hills clicking against the tile. Sharp blue eyes watched the necromancer, a wide smile stabled to her face. “Truly the most enlightening lecture I’ve attended” Eris commented as she sat herself down in one of the seats in the front row. Crossing her legs and Eris leaned forward, perching her elbows on her knees and then her head in her hands. "Did you miss me my little dove?" It was an invitation back into her darkness, back into to the flurry and chaos the two had made their home in for centuries.

She didn’t bother to turn around, to pause her lecture or wrap up early. She taught to the end of her lesson, dolling out assignments and instructing her TA with a flick of the wrist. It wasn’t until the last of her students had trickled out, the projector shut down, and her computer slipped into her bag that she turned around to face Eris. “That’s too bad, we are in the third part of a series I’ve been teaching. If you enjoyed today’s lecture you would have loved the last one in the winter quarter” she didn’t allow bitterness into her voice, but there were undertones of hurt there underneath the teasing that she couldn’t hide, not from Eris.

Even if she wasn’t showing it, every fiber of Mara’s being fine-tuned to Eris’ presence, like there was a rope tugging her back towards the vampire. Left without anything else to shut down, to busy her hands, she came around the table and set herself on its edge, letting her gaze drag up Eris’ familiar form before she met her eyes. “Every minute of every day, with every breath and every beat of this new heart” there was no hiding the sincerity of her words, the centuries of love, and agonizing decades of time spent apart.