holy.

It seemed like a good idea at first. Already tipsy when she was leaving her house, Bruna’s pleading eyes were enough to get Reyna to bring her along and sneak her into the gala. But now standing there, in the middle of a crowed ballroom, she was regretting her decision. She only let her out for a few minutes on the balcony, but the cat made a game out of the attendee’s gowns, and soon enough, the lamia had lost her. Finding her should’ve been easier, but with the music playing and with people’s loud voices, it was difficult to hear the bell on her collar. After several minutes of running around the ballroom calling Bruna’s name with no success, Reyna thought it was time to ask for help. Dark eyes scanned the room for a quick second before she rushed over to the nearest person. “Hi, excuse me, gorgeous,” she greeted through heavy breathing, exhausted from running around. “Any chance you have seen a black cat running around?” 

A sudden laugh escaped Gwendolyn’s lips as soon as Reyna spoke. Of course she had to just comment on her appearance. With these functions, Gwendolyn didn’t disappoint when it came to her attire, she enjoyed going through the notions of what to wear. It was therapeutic in a sense like retail therapy. “You are quite humorous.” she mused at the lamia. “You know I would have done a far better…execution than this.” Glancing down at her chest, she laughed again and shook her head, “And have you seen yourself? You can certainly capture the sight of everyone in the room. By all means, if you do hire someone they better be competent at their menial task.” She observed Reyna’s demeanour once she took the bag and noticed the switch in her look. “She would love that, as I know you would too.” It was evident that Drucilla had made an impact on some of people here, she had a peculiar choice in friends—mostly a certain assassin of a vampire, but she wasn’t the type to judge. “Alright…Making do with the fuckery this town brings. On the bright side, I’ve done some reconnecting to my past and I know, but I wanted to see what’s truly behind this gala. You and I both know this isn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. If anything this Spring Equinox will be blooming in chaos.” 

Emira glanced down at her dress and began twirling around as she showed it off. Reyna knew her so well, but the vampire did not care as she floofed her dress and replied with, “I want Deliliah to look at me and question her suspicions—love making people in authority confused as fuck.” At the compliment, she beamed with pride and said, “Thank you, I love serving looks.” When the lamia answered her question, Emira smirked and linked her arm’s with hers. “Lame.” She pouted at the truth and faked a hurtful expression, “Ouch and here I thought sharing was caring. Fair enough though, you’re a smart cookie.” Emira searched into the crowd for Lukuyan before pointing him out from a far, “Mmm, that fine piece of ass is right there.” She admired him briefly, before returning to the topic and hand and asking, “Okay, but I wanted to have fun Reyna. Don’t tell me you’re going to be sitting pretty here all by yourself?” 

The clack of her shoes on the floor doesn’t catch his attention - not unusual to hear movement, after all - but her phone falling into his drink? The drink he didn’t really want to have, but could hardly refuse when someone else bought it? Hard to not notice and Nathan lifts his head, raising a brow. “Two new ones on top of getting a new phone? You truly are desperate to avoid someone,” he notes, leaning back in the booth with a grin on his face. “Bad date, shitty friends, or an annoying ex? Can’t imagine you’ll escape some of those so easily.” The answer doesn’t really matter, Nathan is good at playing a part regardless, but every bit of information helps. He’s got time to waste on curiosity thankfully. His mark isn’t here yet, he thinks, even if he knows it’s only a matter of time before the fool shows up. He casts a slight look around as he nudges his cup to the edge of the table with her phone inside. “Most people just turn it off, but shall you be leaving it there? And I don’t need a new drink, not unless you’re planning on drinking both of them. I’ve had my fill for the night, I’m waiting on a friend to show up,” he says, shrugging, though he can’t really consider this guy his friend. An acquaintance he met the other week, yes, but certainly not his friend, even if he has to act it for a couple days until the man coughs up a lead in his investigation. 

If she was truly desperate to avoid her date, she would’ve run out of the club. But she wouldn’t allow herself to give someone that much power to ruin her plans of drinking that night. “I guess you can say that, but getting a new phone isn’t an issue.” Reyna shrugged. “I have a few extra ones at home. You wouldn’t happen to need a new one either, would you?” Was it that obvious? Well, of course. She pretty much interrupted a stranger’s nights. Her lips parted to defend herself, but quickly shut when she realized it was impossible to do so. “Bad date. At least physically. I don’t remember what his personality is like. I sound shallow, don’t I? I just don’t remember him looking like that. To be fair, I was wasted. And my eyes were closed when I was kissing him.” With her body sunk into the booth’s seat, she drummed her fingers against the edge of the table as she attempted to explain herself. 

Dark eyes drifted over to the drink she had ruined. “It was the best solution at the time. If I turned it off, I would’ve just gotten the messages when I turned it on. This way, I’ll never know what he sent me.” It was drastic, sure, but it got the job done, and the phone was easily replaceable. Reyna looked back up at the person across her, tilting her head as she took a look at his current sobriety state. “You don’t look like you had your fill for the night. Okay, fine. I won’t get you two new glasses, but instead, bottle service on me! For you and your friend!” Pressing her palms against the table, she pushed herself up, ready to shout for an employee’s attention. However, realizing that her voice would draw attention from people nearby, possibly the person she was avoiding, Reyna quickly shut her lips and sat back down.

“Can you order it for me while I hide? Thanks, you’re the best.” Without waiting for his acceptance of her request, the girl dug into her purse to find her pack of mint gum. Pulling it out, she threw it at the closest employee before ducking under the table in case her throw caught anyone else’s attention and drew it towards the booth.

The good thing about bars was that Joseph didn’t expect to encounter anyone who thought he was actually his “age.”

By that, he meant girls like Delilah who were only in their teens and thought he was one of them. How would he break it gently, explain that even though he looked nineteen, his mind (not hosted in a proper brain) would continue to age, and he would feel older and older over time? With one flash of his ID to the bouncer, he was able to slip into a bar without issue. Only problem: some strange person might assume he’s far older than he actually was. His only hope was to find someone who died around the same age he did and, maybe, they could hit it off.

For now, though, he hid in the VIP section – something that was, surprisingly, an easy feat. All he needed was one drink. Act normal. He opted for something tangy and sour that he could at least taste once before leaving the ice in the drink to melt. No way would he finish a thing. He no longer had the stomach. Literally.

What the shit? An unfamiliar woman dropped her phone in Joseph’s drink, causing it to splatter as she slid into his booth. She spoke before he could read her. What he heard was… outright strange.

It made him just a tad bit suspicious.

“No,” he said, rather blatantly. “No, I’m not. This drink sucks, the music sucks, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.” As he spoke, he peered at her rather intently, attempting to parse apart her actual intentions from any glimpse of a thought he could catch.

Was his response one that she was predicting? No, absolutely not. But was she shocked? Not one bit. Gosh, everyone in this town was miserable, and it was getting exhausting for her. “You sound like someone who just got stood up,” the lamia reflected with a smirk on her face. “VIP section, and it’s still not good enough for you? Why? What’s wrong with this drink?” Without waiting for his response, Reyna leaned forwards to grab the drink she had ruined. Pulling her damaged phone out, the girl took a sip from it. The scrunched up nose was enough to illustrate how she felt about it. Setting the glass down, she dropped her phone back in. “That’s why. This tastes almost like water. What did you order? A lemonade, hold the lemons?” She wiped her fingers against the fabric of her dark jeans to get rid of the drops from the drink, now acting as a sticky layer against her skin.

 She slightly ducked back down when she was reminded that she was hiding from someone. Widened eyes glued down on the other person across the booth. If she can’t see the guy she was avoiding, that must mean he can’t see her either, right? “What do you mean you don’t know what you’re doing here? Do you have short term memory loss? Why are you alone? Where are the rest of your frat brothers?” The copious questions kept flying from her lips, a shield of distractions to hide her nervousness of being caught.   

It was the biggest lesson taught to Reyna growing up, and one that she was grateful to have learned. And that was that the best cure to a hangover was simply just more alcohol. Which explained why the tipsy lamia was dragging her feet down the streets of Lethe in broad daylight as she made her way to go get her first meal of the day. However, it was a blood red piece through the windows of Azalea Gallery that brought a pause to her journey for food. “Oo,” she sang, halting in front of the shop. “That’s a nice -- Oh, wait, that's mine.” The sculpture was a piece she donated to the art gallery, a part of a collection, after she cleaned out her own studio for a fresh start. But now standing there, staring at the vomit of her own emotions, Reyna had a sudden urge of wanting it back. Red painted nails pulled the temples of her sunglasses down from her head and to the bridge of her nose. She walked into the gallery, heading straight to the abstract piece of a woman’s body melting. After a few seconds of running her eyes over her own work, she headed over to a familiar face, or as she would refer to him, her potential partner in crime. “Hello my dearest friend,” she greeted Ryo in a whisper as she stepped up next to him, keeping her eyes ahead of her. If one had to describe the accent she was feigning, it would be as if she was poorly mimicking a female lead in a horribly-written Renaissance movie. “How would you like to leave here today with an art piece for free? Just pick one and it’s yours. There’s a small risk of stress, but thrill and fun is guaranteed.”

Anticipating eyes glanced up from her phone’s screen and towards the door of the club after Reyna read a “here” blue bubble, only to find someone who didn’t match what she was expecting. Panic arose within the lamia as she quickly turned back around on the stool, attempting to recollect her memories from the prior night. Her planned date didn’t look anything like she remembered from the night before, but then again the girl was too wasted to even perceive reality as it was. Without giving him enough time to walk over to her, Reyna hopped off the stool and dove straight into an already occupied booth in the VIP section. Her first priority was removing access to text messages of him asking her where she was, and her attempt to do so succeeded when she dropped her phone into the booth occupant’s drink on the table. “I’ll buy you two new ones,” was her apology for soiling their drink. “Just hide me and talk to me like we’re having the best night in our life,” Reyna requested through gritted teeth as she slid down in the booth, trying to remove herself from visible sight from the other people in the club. “Enjoying your night so far? Music’s popping, isn’t it?”

Date: 9 February 2021 Time: 23:12 PM PST Location: Terrance’s With: @reybengio​

In the aftermath of the fiasco that was New Year’s, Ryo wished he forgot it ever happened. Against his better judgment, he had brought his husband out to the festival and almost lost him for good. Worse still was losing control and letting himself go on yet another murderous rampage. Although there was no doubt in his mind that killing his clan another hundred times over still wouldn’t be enough to atone for the atrocities they committed, he had promised himself that he would never show that side to his loved ones. 

Yet, here he was again, losing control of himself in a different sense. He wordlessly signaled for another glass of bourbon and was thankful the bartender still hadn’t cut him off. Perhaps he still looked okay, but he certainly didn’t feel like it. He nodded a thanks to the bartender, and immediately attempted to bring the drink to his lips, but ultimately placed it back down. His reflection in the amber-coloured liquid looked at his own self with disgust. “…Tch. For fuck’s sake, what am I even doing?”

Reyna’s approach to dealing with her own problems occurred in waves. At first, she spent months isolating herself in her house, drowning herself with silence that only seemed loud to her, amplified by her own thoughts that never wanted to stop. And she thought she was doing better. That was until New Years happened, and everything that she healed from came back to haunt her, literally. This time, however, her living room floor no longer felt the warmth of her back against it. Instead, it was the bar that was overcome by her heavy presence each night, finding her solutions through distractions that sat on a bed of ice in the bottom of a glass. 

“Drinking high quality alcohol in the best place in town, of course,” the lamia answered the question that probably rhetorical as she slid into the booth next to him. “I’ll have what he’s having,” she requested from the bartender, leaning forwards on the bar to gather their attention. She turned her head over, analyzing his facial features for a quick second. “What? What’s wrong? Does it not taste good or something?”

“I would spare them whatever sass you would send their way, they are not quite skilled enough in handling your tongue,” he remarks with a sideways glance at her as the cop walks away. He did not miss the look on her face, and laughs at the smile on her lips. “Sometimes I am not even equipped to handle it.” August debates pointing out she’s older than him by several decades, his brows arched as if to suggest it anyway, but he ends up shaking his head instead, amused. “Uh, no, I do not experience sleep paralysis much and if I did, I cannot say I recall what they look like. Perhaps like a goblin, I feel that would be unsettling,” he thinks aloud. Another second of musing on possibilities, and then he’s looking at her again, trading places with her to take the brunt of the jostling. “How long have you had this issue?” August makes a face at the idea of him brooding. He senses their conversation can, quite easily, take a turn for the worse and he tries to keep the levity going. “I do not… brood. Much. You make our friendship sound like such a hardship, please tell me what you really feel.” The question prompts silence from him. He makes a noise to show his thoughtfulness, still thinking on the question when they step inside the booth and looking over the handwritten menu. “Truthfully? No, being a councilman was more headache than it was worth to me, and being chief was too politically involved for my taste. I do wish I knew more, but… I am content with where I am.” He should be insulted, but August doesn’t take many of Reyna’s jabs to heart and rolls his eyes fondly. He points at her face, and waits for after the person acting as a barman takes both of their orders before saying, “You know exactly what I mean. I suppose you are right, though, for all your mischief you are not…” August tilts his head, thinking of how to word this in English. “Well, I do not think you will stab me in the back and it is rare to think that of someone.”

Reyna’s lips parted, always ready for a smart comment, but the inappropriateness of the remark snapped her lips back together to refrain from leaving and went with a gentler response. “Look at how much you care for your cohort that you want to protect them from me.” Her shoulders rose up towards her ears before falling back down in a relaxed manner. “Well, you’re still here dealing with it, so I’d say you’re doing better than most.” Though, to be fair, she did hold her tongue frequently around him, in case her words do get her in trouble. “A goblin? That would be a pretty cute sleep demon. You could name it Fred, maybe.” Reyna hummed in thought, thinking about how far back this has been happening. “Just recently. Since this past summer.” She challenged his words with narrowed eyes. “It’s fine,” she tried to validate him, throwing her hands up in the air in defense. “People have their aesthetics, and yours just happen to be brooding.” She dramatically sighed, only adding onto the theatrics she had presented earlier. “Well, if you really want me to be honest. I’m kept up most nights thinking about how difficult this friendship is.” Reyna stayed silent for a second, her serious features not giving away the lack of truth behind her words. However, a smile broke through as her hand reached for his face, cupping it with her fingers before gently squeezing down on his cheek before falling back to her side. “I’m only teasing. It’s other matters that keep me up at night. And truth be told, you’re a sunshine compared to the rest of the town who wears brooding like a uniform.” The girl keenly watched him, attempting to catch a glimpse of how he would react to her question. His answer wasn’t surprising, however. “So if the chance to become chief again came up, you wouldn’t take it?” She continued with her innocent look, eyes widened as if confused. “Truly have no idea what you’re talking about.” A genuine smile penetrated her face, appreciative of his words. “No fun in stabbing one in the back when you can stab them right in the front for them to see.” Her finger lightly tapped against the temple of her head as if she had said something wise. Receiving their drinks, she stepped aside for others to get their orders in. “I can assure you that won’t be a problem you’ll have to worry about it. Loyalty runs through our blood.”

The sound of the graphic pool cue against the last stripe ball echoed throughout the bar, reminding the employees that the music wasn’t loud enough for everyone to enjoy it. As soon as the ball fell into a pocket, a contrast of reactions erupted, a mix of cheers and sighs of frustration. Victory was only a ball away, and it would’ve been achieved by Reyna had someone across the bar not caught her eyes. “Give me one second,” she told the audience, grabbing the black ball she needed to win once again and leaving the pool area, a trial of opposition following her. “Must be my lucky day to see you here,” she greeted Drucilla before tossing the eight ball over to her. 

At the sight of the familiar face from across the gym, Reyna instinctively turned around to avoid broadcasting herself to be in her sights. However, she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason that persuaded her to turn back around and make her way over. Was it the need to see a familiar face, to catch up with her, to see how she had been doing, or was she just seeking out answers for her brother? Nonetheless, whatever the reason, she came face to face with her ex. “Hi.” The greeting came out as more of a breath than an exact word. A wave of comfort crashed over her, finding solace in past memories and familiarity. These days, those just seem to have left her fingertips, so she latched on to any glimpse of it. “I heard you were in town. And here I thought it was for me, but after months of waiting for you to show up at my door, I guess it wasn’t after all.” The sly smile on her face indicated the joking nature behind her words. “No worries, though, my heart isn’t broken. How have you been?”