•´¯`•. ғʜᴋᴅ

MARKO.

DWAYNE.

‹  ❝ fool, ❞  ›  david gazes down at the bloodless corpse, the sight of her mangled throat bringing a self-satisfied smirk to his lips; the girl, blonde this time and quite the screamer, is lying sprawled across the thick, gnarled roots of the tree he so nonchalantly deposited her body after drinking his fill of her blood, dropping like a marionette whose strings have been cut. humans. such pitiful creatures. few understand or even recognize the dangers of inviting strangers to their bonfires ━ and fewer still notice the danger until it’s too late and they’re choking on their own blood … or what’s left of it, anyway.      [ PITIFUL CREATURES LIKE THAT DESERVE A PITIFUL END. ]      casually wiping the corner of his bottom lip with his thumb, he drops a contemplative gaze to the smudge of blood on the tip of his finger. lacking. her blood is lacking. he should find a better donor. maybe later. a dark chuckle rolls from his throat, more amused than anything by the thought of hunting for a new, adequate donor. but instead of giving into his mirth, david chooses to wrap himself in ominous silence as he reaches for the body, effortlessly slinging it over his shoulder ━ before proceeding with a predatory lope toward the shoreline, intent on getting rid of the evidence. so, it is with that goal in mind ( and with far greater force than a human is simply capable of ) that he lobs the corpse into the ocean, offering his fellow predators a free meal. they should be grateful he bothered at all. ‹  ❝ bon appetit. ❞  ›   his whisper reaches out of the night, a darker nature underlining the playful words.              but it doesn’t take his playfulness long to dwindle, succinctly dropping into yet another ominous silence ━ for dramatic effect, according to paul and marko ━ and with an indifferent shrug, he follows the well-treaded path through the sand, heading to where he and the boys left their bikes.    naturally, he can’t help but wonder if his brothers have made successful dinner arrangements for the night. no doubt they have; his boys are talented hunters, after all, second only to him. 

as he draws near his destination, however, the sadness lacing through the sweeter, more childish undertones of laddie’s voice brings him to a standstill, and he cocks his head when an unfamiliar voice soon joins the boy’s, her soft, dulcet tones like a sweet caress against his skin. surprising. arousing as fuck … but surprising.         “i’m not supposed to wander off. but i can’t find my brothers. i-i looked everywhere,” laddie is saying, the fact that he’s wandering the boardwalk alone pulling a low growl from david. where the fuck is star? useless bitch. his mounting irritation, coupled with his second-rate meal, drives him to act without thinking, and with the ease of a creature who knows his body’s limitations, david catapults himself over the metal handrail and lands next to a pretty, asian woman, whose scent is probably a ten on the richter scale. it’s so mouthwatering that he’s surprised the half-vampire hasn’t attacked her yet.  

‹  ❝ who the hell are you? ❞  ›  it comes out as more of a demand than a question, but when he sees a stranger, no matter how pretty, cozying up to a member of his family, he just can’t seem to curb the asshole within. it’s his default setting.

         fangs poised to tear into the neck of his oblivious dinner date, dwayne paused their fatalistic descent when he caught the familiar, telltale flash of yellow, red, orange, and green disappearing into the crowd ━ he would recognize that obnoxious skirt anywhere; star enjoyed imitating gypsies, liking the element of mystery attached to the name. a disgruntled hiss slipped past his parted lips, and in an uncharacteristic fit of PIQUE, he snapped the girl’s neck, the audible crack of bone breaking echoing eerily through the alley. surprised by his brief loss of control, dwayne let the body drop to the ground, unceremonious in his handling of a human who would have eventually died by his hands, anyway.  &  as he was currently too busy trying to pinpoint the specific whereabouts of his youngest brother to pay the dead brunette any heed, he chose to ignore his instincts, especially those urging him to dispose of the evidence, his impetuous kill among the thousands randomly dispersed throughout santa carla, ironically named the murder capital of the world. fact was, anyone could have done it, even a human. 

there, he inwardly growled. FOUND him. 

an air of palpable satisfaction radiating from him, his vampiric features rippled and contorted, seeking the perfect disguise ━ until only the human facade remained, a trick to lure prey into a false sense of security. once properly masked, dwayne pivoted on his heels and infiltrated the boisterous throng of human cattle, setting a quick  &  purposeful gait in search of laddie, unsurprised to find that david had beaten him to the punch.  

❛  laddie, ❜  he quietly addressed the half-vampire as soon as he reached his side, gently brushing up against the boy to reassure him of his presence. it seemed to work, for laddie immediately began to relax and acknowledged the older vampire’s arrival with a cheerful grin, small fingers gripping the sleeve of his leather jacket in welcome. giving his hand a comforting squeeze, he then turned his dark, hooded gaze to the woman who’d been keeping the little guy company, silently appraising her. 

beautiful and innocent ━ a hell of a combination.

       (   HE  USUALLY  DOESN’T  HUNT  ALONE,  )         preferring  to  make  a  game  of  it  with  paul,  and  since  marko  isn’t  particularly  ( SHY )  about  acting  on  his  desires   ⸻   never  has  been  &  never  will  be   ⸻   he  isn’t  above  whipping  out  the  infamous  puppy  dog  eyes  or  his  illustrious  hangdog  look  to  get  his  point  across.  while  he  may  possess  a  certain  knack  for  manipulation  (  as  well  as  a  flair  for  the  dramatic  ),  his  true,  awe-inspiring  talents  lay  elsewhere,  however.  which  is  why,  despite  all  thought  to  the  contrary,  he’s  not  all  that  bothered  to  be  hunting  on  his  lonesome,  without  paul  with  whom  he  can  often  be  seen  enjoying  a  nice,  rousing  game  of  dog  and  bone.  lonely?  him?  N E V E R.        ❝  where  do  you  think  YOU’RE  going? ❞  marko  sing-songs  in  that  deceptively  innocent,  buoyant  way  of  his  that  is  reminiscent  of  a  child  who’s  not  only  lost  his  favored  toy  of  the  week  but  who  refuses  to  pass  it  over  as  a  snipe  hunt,  casually  skipping  after  his  meal  ticket  while  it  and  the  foolish  hope  it  so  desperately  clings  to  is  currently  in  the  midst  of  pulling  off  a  ridiculously  daring  escape.  except,  it’s  on  its  hands  and  knees,  trying  its  damnedest  to  crawl  away  ⸻  literally  at  a  snail’s  pace,  its  sweaty,  makeup-smudged  face  pulled  into  a  sharp  grimace  of  pain.  and  even  if  luck  wins  out,  and  it  somehow  miraculously  manages  to  crawl  to  safety,  it won't  matter  in  the  hereafter,  because  the  poor  thing  has  left  a  discernible  trail  of  blood  to  follow.  a  pretty,  crimson  trail  that  is  so  eye-catchingly  bright  that  a  naked  ape  (  with  their  duller  senses  and  muddier  instincts  )  could  find  it  in  the  pitch-black  of  night.  but  he  doesn’t  want  to  end  the  game  too  soon.  at  least  that’s  the  plan  …  before  he  suddenly  notices  the  giggling  silhouette  of  that  whiny  bitch  of  a  half-vampire,  star,  standing  in  the  middle  of  a  crowd  of  horny  men,  basking  in  their  amorous  attentions.  alone.  without  the  little  man  clinging  to  her  skirt  &  raining  on  her  parade  of  sex,  drugs,  and  the  glorious  in-between.

       HUFFING  out  a  breath  of  irritation,  marko  nonchalantly  snatches  the  sobbing  meat-bag  off  the  ground  and  rips  into  its  throat  with  all  the  gusto  of  one  who  has  no  choice  but  to  eat  on  the  go  ⸻  then  carelessly  dumps  its  body  at  the  earliest  (  and  most  convenient  )  opportunity,  in  an  overcrowded  dumpster  already  teeming  with  the  stench  of  rot  and  decay.  david’s  not  going  to  be  happy,  he  thinks  to  himself  with  an  exasperated  roll  of  his  shoulders.  neither  will  dwayne,  come  to  think  of  it,  seeing  as  she  has  (  OBVIOUSLY  )  selfishly  &  stupidly  left  laddie  to  his  own  devices  …  again.  instinctively  sniffing  the  air  in  search  of  laddie’s  scent,  an  oddly  sweet  blend  of  maple  syrup  and  cedar,  the  brunet  immediately  latches  onto  the  trail  and  follows  it,  inwardly  relieved  when  it  leads  him  to  his  brothers  (  all  save  for  paul,  who  remains  conspicuously  absent.  hmm.  )         ❝  what’s this then ?  ❞   his  eyebrow  takes  on  a  more  playful  arch,  climbing  his  forehead  as  his  mischievous  gaze  completely  passes  over  david  and  dwayne,  stopping  on  the  pretty,  little  thing  perched  on  top  of  the  handrail.         ❝  did  you  guys  actually  think  you’d  get  away  with  throwing  a  party  &  not  inviting  me?  that’s  like  putting  together  a  concert  without  the  opening  act.  pretty  bold  of  you.  ❞

 splatters of dark red painted the sidewalk in an unapologetically macabre depiction of an eyeless face with sizable, jagged fangs  ( styled after his favorite brother & similar to graffiti with its slick, bold lines and artful garishness. )  paul’s lips quirked into a half-grin as he slowly but nimbly pulled himself upright, uncoiling his spine one vertebrae at a time, and━as casually as you please━raised his hand to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste the richness of the blood coating his index finger. marko would certainly get a kick out of seeing this masterpiece. maybe he ought to text him a picture of it.     glacial blue eyes crinkling at the corners, he purred in delight as he rolled the oddly sweet flavor around in his mouth, relishing its sticky goodness. 〝 mm━could use more iron, 〞  paul hummed thoughtfully, his attention drawn to the image he managed to fashion in the same length of time it had taken for him to end the life of the bushy-haired tourist whose lung capacity had absolutely floored him.  ( and that scream ! )  she would’ve been a shoo-in for scream queen if THIS had been a movie and SHE had been the leading actress. but alas, this was reality, and her reality was finished. done. finito. too bad, so sad. 〝 mar━ko? … polo … ye━ah, this game ain’t as much fun without you, 〞 he mused aloud, already brushing aside the brief game of cat-caught-the-canary he’d played with a rather reluctant bidder. time to go. 

nonchalantly snapping a photo  ( or three )  of the rough sketch, intending to show marko when he met up with him again, paul ambled toward the north-side of the boardwalk, tossing playful grins & flirtatious winks here and there as he made his way toward their favored spot, eyes lighting up the moment he saw the others gathered around their motorcycles.  〝 marko. 〞 he cheerfully threw an arm around the other vampire’s shoulders, then offered a respectful nod toward david and dwayne before allowing his gaze to hone in on the woman sitting near laddie, who looked quite comfortable in the unknown chick’s presence. huh. imagine that.  〝 so … what’s up? 〞

* ✮ ╾        THE GLOOMINESS PERMEATING THE AIR AROUND THE CHILD lures her maternal instincts out of the shadows  &  into the open, where they like to stay hidden from those who seek to use them against her until she has need of them again. as an older sister, she doesn’t much care for the thought of this young boy dawdling on the boardwalk at night, very much lost and alone as he desperately searches for signs of his missing brothers. so it’s only natural that she offers herself up as a guide of sorts, to ensure nothing untoward should happen in the event his search leads him into surf nazi territory.      ❛   don’t worry,  ❜ she’s quick to assure her newfound friend, lifting a gloved hand to his head to gently card her fingers through his light brown curls.         ❛   i’ll help you find them—   ❜ she starts to say, but the suddenness of having a male of clearly asian descent catapulting over the handrail   &   landing gracefully at their side wrests a startled gasp from her lips, and she nearly loses her balance, hands instinctively dropping to grip the metal to keep herself seated.        ❛   excuse me?  ❜ nakia blurts out, surprised at the man’s brusque words —— before she narrows her eyes in distaste, irritation made visible in the shift of her eyebrows. he may be bigger than her, with a whipcord lean body and a menacing presence clinging to his shadow, but that doesn’t mean she’ll willingly accept being treated so disrespectfully by someone who doesn’t even bother to give his name ... who looks at her as if she’s a pest buzzing incessantly in his ear. before she can light into him about his foul attitude     ( and how he should seriously look into inquiring about an attitude adjustment ),    however, he is soon joined by three others, the alleged missing brothers the young boy couldn’t find earlier. brothers who are obviously adopted, considering how none of them seem to favor one another —— except for the menacing presence that has only grown to greater heights since their arrival. it’s quite strange and slightly terrifying how all four seem to exude the raw kind of danger usually only reserved for carnivorous creatures one finds in the wild.

* ✮ ╾        THE MOON HANGS LOW IN THE SKY, reflecting brightly on the ocean like a skull foaming at the mouth, its smile stretching wildly across the pitch-black backdrop. a perfect night for a less than perfect situation. legs dangling over the side of the railing, nakia carefully balances on the handrail, fingers digging sharply into the metal as she ponders her stepfather’s latest foray into despotism   ( with a side order of assholeness. )   as an active member of the surf nazis, a group of criminals who treat santa carla as their very own playground, complete with protection money demands  &  drug and firearm distribution, solving issues related to territory disputes falls under his jurisdiction —— just as she does. and now she has no choice but to give in to his demands lest her younger sister fall prey to the bastard’s explosive temper. use your gift, he said. find their weaknesses, he said. funny how he would call her curse a gift now when before, he would always refer to it as freakishness.        ❛   lỗ đít,  ❜  she mutters under her breath —— but then visibly starts when she suddenly notices a young boy  ( he can’t be much older than ten )  staring up at her, an aura of distress emanating from his slightly trembling form.        ❛   hi, there,  ❜  nakia says, deliberately keeping her tone soft and friendly so as not to startle him.        ❛   would you like to keep me company?  ❜ she inquires, accompanying the offer with a small, genuine smile, one he eagerly returns  &  with a nimble jump, he quietly joins her on the handrail, sitting as close to her as he dares.      ( and just like that, she makes a new friend, one who seems just as lonely as she tries so hard not to be. )

    HIS mind racing, conflicted thoughts running in circles like a windmill during a fierce storm, Regulus trudged aimlessly down the sidewalk, practically dragging his feet. It was the middle of the afternoon, where the sun was at its highest peak, tendrils of sunlight snaking around the uncertainty trickling into his aura and subduing it, filling him with warmth and a restfulness he hadn’t felt in a long time — certainly not since he’d turned seventeen, the age of magical maturity in their world. Perhaps Bellatrix had had the right of it. Refusing to leave the house for days  ( burying his head in the proverbial sand whilst trying to forget his impending association with a man unafraid to do whatever he deemed necessary to reach his goals )  hadn’t done him any favors. But if she found out he’d ventured into the muggle world instead of visiting the manor her lord used to welcome potential recruits into their organization, thus ending his self-proclaimed exile, the woman would more than likely rupture a few very important blood vessels in her endeavor to set him right. A sardonic chuckle passed his lips at the thought of a red-faced Bellatrix screeching like a disgruntled owl, demanding reparation and an apology. She would be … inconsolable. With an overly exaggerated eye roll — heavy on the exasperation — Regulus continued down the sidewalk, following it toward what he assumed to be a muggle park. It was thankfully empty, all save for one lone woman who had yet to notice his presence. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, muggle-styled clothes his parents would have heartily disapproved of, as he walked toward the currently occupied swingset — stopping only after he’d reached the blonde who was currently swinging back and forth, a certain air of melancholy about her that reminded him of his own problems. It never even crossed his mind that he shouldn’t be talking to muggles or that his family would have had a fit if they’d seen him approach her with the intent to join her at the swingset. 〝ARE YOU … 〞 He awkwardly cleared his throat, then tried again, feeling strangely compelled to talk to her. 〝ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? 〞

* ✮ ╾       GAZING DOWN AT HER FEET, petunia watches in numb disinterest as her ballerina flats gently skim the sand —— back and forth, back and forth —— flecks of caramel brown blending into the beige. she doesn’t exactly know how long she’s been sitting there, soaking up the quiet of an empty park like a sea sponge, thankful for the chance to mope in private. so when the unfamiliar voice, a soft, pleasant tenor that washes over her senses, intrudes upon her brooding thoughts, the blonde whips around on the swing, nearly tangling herself up in the chains in her bid to confront the intruder.    ❛   that’s none of your business,  ❜ she snaps, a flush crawling up her neck at being caught mid-mope.      ❛   why are you creeping around anyway?  ❜ the inflection in her tone borders on suspicion, a suspicion that is reflected in her narrow-eyed, assessing gaze as she studies his face, smooth  &  blemish-free.   ( he looks like he still belongs in high school. )     ❛   shouldn’t you be in school?  ❜ petunia queries pointedly —— but upon realizing just how condescending she sounds, a grimace steals across her features,  &  she ducks her head in embarrassment, looking everywhere but at him.      ❛   i—i’m sorry. it’s just been a rough couple of weeks. but i’m fine now !  ❜ the haste with which she rushes to assure him of this fact proves otherwise, however. but she absolutely, positively refuses to drag a stranger into her problems; he surely must have his own to contend with.     ❛   thanks for, uh, asking, though.  ❜  ( not many would have in his position. )

* ✮ ╾         A FROWN CREASES PETUNIA'S FOREHEAD as the soft, tentative lilt of her estranged sister’s voice sounds across the line. she hasn’t spoken to lily in over two months, their last argument causing the distance between them that first formed in their childhood when the younger girl readily abandoned her for the sake of learning magic to expand, deepening into resentment.        ❛   good for you,  ❜ petunia mumbles, hating herself a little more every day for allowing petty jealousy    &    senseless bitterness to alienate them.       ❛   why are you telling me this?  ❜

* ✮ ╾        HANDS GRIPPING THE CHAINS ATTACHED TO THE SWING TIGHTLY, she slowly sways back and forth, the pale blue of her eyes staring, transfixed, up at the cloudless sky. it’s only been a few weeks since she accepted the engagement ring from vernon, a rather portly man with a narrow-minded view of the world, and she’s already beginning to question whether or not she’s done the right thing. sure, he’s the kind of husband she’s always envisioned for herself —— normal —— but lately she can’t help but think he may not be the right fit for her. he treats her decently enough, she supposes, but sometimes he has a tendency to grab her arms a little too roughly when they argue, and he also has a bit of a superiority complex, thinking he’s always right even when it’s obvious he’s not.    &  when they argue, he seems to enjoy pointing out how lucky she is to be engaged to him and that she will never find another man as wonderful as he is. she tries hard not to let his words get to her —— words often spoken in anger —— but she knows there’s some truth to his argument. he may not be the best catch, but he’s probably the best she’ll ever manage to secure. petunia lets out a soft sigh of regret for all the poor decisions she’s made in her life  (  her estrangement with lily, angrily turning on her parents after finding out she was adopted, agreeing to marry vernon without giving herself proper time to think it over, letting vernon talk her into staying the night at his flat and eagerly falling into bed with him despite her reservations )  and presses her forehead against the chain, conflicted. what should i do?