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There was no piece of the vampire that mattered, there was nothing to him that was special, or significant. Whomever he had been before he went into the ground had been stripped away by over a thousand years of starvation. Sanem did not know him, she knew only the man he presented to the world in order to hide in plain sight. She knew a mogul, nothing further. Whatever was between them, the only mercy he could give was to end it before it destroyed her, before the look in her eyes inherently destroyed him. Markus was a tool, a weapon, he couldn’t be anything more. Not while Hektor breathed down his neck, and certainly not while Persephone awaited him. “Then she, too, is a fool.” Markus lamented, his tone solemn before his hand slipped from hers and he took a step back, he desired to create space between them, some distance to protect himself. His eyes met hers once more, compulsion heavy, he spoke, “You will forget that you ever met me before this moment, I’ve tortured your friends, have kept you prisoner, I’m a vampire, a cultist, and you should be afraid of me.” 

group three, delphi hotel:

She feels so nauseous she could vomit — except her body physically can’t. Maven’s tried to purge this from her system, this toxicity forced upon her, but nothing comes up. So instead she sits with her head in her hands, against one of the cave walls. All she wants more than anything is the feel of her magic back, then at least she wouldn’t feel so powerless. Though it didn’t do much to prevent her abduction… Maven shakes the idea out of her head, squeezing her eyes shut. And she keeps them that way, even as she feels the presence of someone else shuffling closer to her. “Dude, whatever you want, I’m not in the fuckin’ mood.” She moans, rubbing her forehead. It’s better this way, keeps the walls from moving too much. “Unless you somehow know of a way out of this shithole.” 

There’s too much vampire blood in her system, mixing painfully with the rest. Each time that she raises to her feet, her head spins with the room and she’s certain that she’ll barely make it a step. But she needs to do something, needs to figure out if there’s a way out of this, out of here. Lia, Ava --- she needs to do something for them, to make sure they get out of this. But she’s barely a few feet in any direction when she eases herself to her knees, focusing intently on the ground beneath her. Just keep shuffling forward, find someone that may help her devise a plan. And that’s when the other’s voice breaks through, shifting through the haze of her mind, “What?” Her gaze snapped up, seeking out Maven in the darkness, “Maven.” The name comes as a sigh of relief, but gods, how she wished that the other wasn’t here. Wasn’t a part of this. “Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?”

Who: @corinthbaystarters​ Where: Delphi Hotel - Group 3

It’s blood on her lips, blood on her hands and blood in her system. She just wants to be clean and she wants to protect herself in her flame, taking flight as a falcon far away from here. She can still hear the rain that beats on relentlessly outside of the cage in the cave, and her thoughts are of Willy. How he went without food today, how he’s lost and confused and doesn’t know where she is, and how when she adopted him she promised to protect him and now she doesn’t know if she’ll make it home alive, a sob threats to rip through her but she’s doing everything she can to keep the grief and tears at bay. “They can’t fucking do this — we’re not going out this way. We have to make it home.” It’s desperate prayers and she’s doing everything she can to not lose her mind.

They were not alone, She could have been watching, Hektor could be upon them at any moment. Markus told himself time and time again that his beat less heart was empty, that it was void of any compassion or remorse. Yet there was one man who had not strayed from his thoughts, and the woman before him was the only one within these catacombs that Markus had not yet been able to bring himself to harm. The vampire would do whatever was asked of him, would turn her, as it was deemed necessary, and perhaps she would thank him for it, eventually. When she was free from the shackles of her coven, her mother’s expectations, when she knew the power and privilege that Markus enjoyed daily. She reached for him, his hand reflexively went to hers, “You have seen what I can do, what I will do.” Lia laid in a pool of her own blood, quivering and powerless as her curse tried to force her to shift but she had no power to do so, he’d all but snapped Gabriel’s neck, tossed the petulant sphinx clear across the room. All because they had dared insult his Goddess. “You should be afraid of me.”

It wasn’t necessarily her own safety that was at the forefront of her mind, no; Sanem needed to think about her sister, about Lia, and Maven. She needed to do what her mother had always taught her to do, and focus on the safety of others. “You’re right,” her voice was fragile, threatening to shake and quiver with each passing moment. It was not just Markus that prowled the cave, and Sanem knew nothing of what the others were capable of. What they would do to her, or the rest of those that had been taken. But her hand remained where it was, her eyes glancing to his as it rested atop it. “Maybe I should be,” she breathed, letting her gaze return to his. “But my mother always said I had a habit of seeing the good in everyone.” And she knew it was possible in Markus, had seen it firsthand in the moments that they had spent together.

The storm was getting progressively worse, and Sanem knew that she should have already been back at the house already. But she’d needed to attend to a few things at the shop, ensure that nothing was going to be damaged or destroyed in the wake of the storm. She’d just put up the last of the items, with the intention of finally heading back home, when she heard a noise behind her. At first, she chalked it up to the storm, certain that no one would be stopping by the shop on a night like this. So when she turned to see the man standing there, a sense of dread and concern immediately washed over her ---

“But I do.” Markus affirmed, he cared for nothing but Persephone, that was all he knew. Whatever feelings that she and Alarick had stirred within him needed to be placed second, they needed to be pushed aside in favor of the vampire’s truest nature. This was what he was, this was who he was. There had been a time when Markus believed himself noble, believed himself a king, but that man had been butchered on the field of battle, and whatever feelings that dwelled in his heart of hearts were weighed beneath over a thousand years of quiet isolation. “This is my destiny, join me Sanem.” His tone was firm, hard, but not as stern as with the others, his cerulean eyes were distant - but there was a plea buried behind them. He did not enjoy this, but that did not mean he would not do what Persephone wished of him. 

For years, her mother had warned her of various groups, of the extremes that they would go to to ensure the survival of their species. She had listened intently, as she did everything Anastasia told her, but had she believed she’d ever come into contact with them? Even now, standing in this cave, with Markus outright telling her what they had planned for the lot of them, Sanem could no more wrap her head around it now than she had been able to then. And as his words slipped from his tongue, cold and unrelenting, she could only find herself stepping forward, drawing ever closer to him. There was a risk in everything she did now, but that didn’t stop her from slipping her hand between the metal bars, from reaching up to slide fingertips along his cheek, “I don’t believe you.” The words were whispered into the space between them, her voice soft and gentle. She knew that there was so little she truly knew about him, but despite that, she had not once felt in danger when she was near him. 

There was exactly one face he had not wished to see this night, her gaze leveled against upon his and Markus’ eyes only grew more cold, his tone more firm, his jaw set into a tighter line as he stepped closer to the bars. He did not wish to be overheard, did not wish for the others to see even the slightest sign of weakness, not Antony, not Hektor, and certainly not Persephone, for she was almost certainly watching. Markus had known it was foolish from the beginning, she was of the Delphi, and Alarick was of the Argos. Their ambitions, however aligned, were plagued by vastly different methods. “I’m going to turn you into a vampire.”

This wasn’t the same man that she had come to enjoy the company of. This couldn’t be. It hadn’t been that long ago when she was placing a flower crown on his head, when they were watching the parade as it slipped by on the streets. Now his gaze was cold, his demeanor speaking of the fear that shone on so many faces. Yet even as he stepped closer, as the air in the room seemed to chill, Sanem stood where she was, waiting and watching. And then his words were washing over her, eliciting the fear that she had pushed aside for so many years. “You don’t ---,” but her voice trembled, and the words caught in the hollow of her throat. She couldn’t give into the fear, though; couldn’t allow it to consume her as she knew it was capable of doing. “You can’t mean that.”

Sanem spotted her the second her head stopped spinning, and she was instantly across the room. Arms encircled the other immediately, “Please tell me you know what’s going on. Or why we’re here.” Words tumbled out of her mouth too quickly, her nerves getting the better of her. Was she scared? Absolutely. Was she going to be able to keep it under control? That was unlikely. But she would do her best, if only to ensure the safety of those around her. Releasing her hold as she stepped back, she couldn’t help the frown that pulled at the corners of her lips, “You can’t shift, can you? My magic is gone, too.”

Years of preparation had culminated into this moment, while the cultist had prepared, had spent years carrying out the Goddesses missives, it was Hektor’s arrival that indicated the time to swell Persephone’s numbers was at last upon them. He had done his due diligence, had taken a number of people, the genasi Safiye included, and with the help of Antony and Ares, the cage beneath the Delphi had swelled in populace. Eager to get started, the vampire stepped forward, cerulean hues distant and cold as they set upon those that were trapped within. An amused smirk crossed his features as he fixed them upon one individual. “Step forward.” it wasn’t an order leveled with his usual compulsion, but it was a demand, one that would not be without consequence if it was refused.

There was vampire blood in her system. Which scared her in a way that she had not felt in years. For despite the number of vampires in Corinth Bay, the fear of becoming one’s meal, or even becoming one, was few and far between. Then again, she had her magic to thank for that. A magic that she could no longer feel a connection to, that no longer tingled at the tips of her fingers. What had they done to her? What were they planning on doing to her, and the rest of them? Words ripped her from her innermost thoughts, dragging her gaze up to the man that stood not far from her now. And recognition hit her like a speeding train. The air surely had been stripped from her lungs, ripped forth with the two words spoken from the vampire she had come to know. That she had spent some of the carnival with. “Markus?” There was a hesitation to the way that she said his name, as if she were unsure whether this was truly him. “What’s going on here? What are you doing?”

Hippolyta was confused. Leighton had seemed like he was a different person, but she hadn’t known what was going on. He wouldn’t do this to her on purpose. Would he? She looked around at the others that had been shoved into the cage with her. Some were familiar faces and others she didn’t even know. Nevertheless, the blood circulating through her system was making her so nauseous. There was some on her face that she used her bare arm to wipe off. “What the fuck is going on?” She yelled the words to anyone who would listen before kneeling down on the floor. “You. We need to get out of here.”

tw: violence mention, tw: blood

Markus had just fed, the feeling of satiation warm upon him as he wandered the streets of Corinth, basking in the after glow of the bloody task left behind him. Distasteful, messy, whenever the vampire felt he had gotten a handle on the insatiable bloodlust, a frenzy would rear its hateful head once more. He would lose himself in the jugular vein of another, and another, and another - the Carnivale had been a nightmare, and the Arthurian vampire had not been quite the same since. All he had managed this time was to leave his victim with only a breath of life, Markus managed to ply them with a bit of his blood, compelled them to forget, to their bed, told them they were sick, that it would take a few days for them to feel like themselves again. A quick change of clothes, and fresh air was then all that he could manage while uncertain steps carried him through streets that had grown in familiarity. 

Markus had heard her then as he always did, with teeth buried in the neck of another, she whispered to him as a haunted memory. A voice that had once come from across the veil, his only protection, his only satiety, the only thing that had filled dreamless thoughts while he laid within a comb, desiccated and choking on the spiders and dust that filled his throat. 

He barely noticed Sanem’s presence until she reached for him, did not know she was there until he felt her pulling at the haunted thoughts that followed him through and after every frenzy. Sanem’s hand encircled his own, and for the briefest of moments the haunting and intrusive thoughts were wrenched from his psyche. Markus turned all at once, his eyes upon her familiar hues, it was rare for him to befriend a witch, impossible, some might have said. Markus did not friends, he staff under his compulsion, witches, and humans alike, people who he could feed from, who could ply him with intel. Eyes and ears that kept him informed. And yet, somehow, Sanem was more, she had helped him once, accompanied him to the parade on another occasion, and while he certainly could have, Markus had not fed her, nor had he turned her as Persephone’s missive decreed. She, like Alarick, reminded him of a piece of himself that the former king had long thought been buried beneath the earth.

“You - “ All at once her hand was gone and Markus felt the familiar feelings that he had not yet even named slowly creep back in once again. What magic is this? He questioned all at once, did she know? Did she know what he had just done? What he would continue to do? Markus looked at his hand, pale, cold, hers was the closest thing to warmth he had known in over a thousand years. “What did you just do?” 

It was a sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. The pressing of dread upon the edges of her mind. It was the fear that this may be the last, that once again she would find herself trapped in a tomb, with a sword pierced through her chest. No --- this wasn’t hers. This fear didn’t belong to her. It was merely taken from another, slipped from the crevices of their own mind and implanted into hers. And she knew what she could do with it. Twist it, manipulate it, play it onto their minds until they saw no end in sight. Until all they would feel was the doom of this fear.

Markus’ question drew her back, forced her to release the fear that now was hers to play with. “I ---,” but the words once more died upon her tongue, Sanem only able to look up at him now. It was foolish of her to have thought to push this side of him away, to ignore it when they happened upon each other. Vampires needed to feed in order to remain living --- or rather, to stave off the process of desiccation. His fear. “I’m sorry,” finally she managed to get the words out, sincere and heartfelt as she pushed through the cold feeling that clutched at her being.

Shaking his head, he decided to forget about the uncanny resemblance. This wasn’t his sister. No, it was just some flower shop owner that he pissed off. Kaan would stick with that for now and try to figure out why there was such a resemblance when he didn’t even know this woman. Had there been something that his family hadn’t told him? Then again, his sister could have had a child and started a line of others that were keeping their family name alive. Well, sort of. It seemed they didn’t have…actually, this was something he shouldn’t have been thinking about at all. This woman was someone he didn’t know and it would stay that way. For now. “I doubt the child had a favorite flower at two unless they just threw daisies in his face every other day.” He let out a sigh. “Whatever. I’ll probably end up getting the daisies anyway. This isn’t even my fucking job.”

Immediately Ela reaches forward to pull her friend into a tight embrace. “You are too good to me, Sanem. And I’m sorry for being such an absent friend. I owe more of my time to you, and Gabby, and Henry… There’s a whole list I’m sure.” She pulled back only to clasp palms upon her friend’s shoulders. “But today is about you and dinner is a start. Dancing too if I can still put a dress on after we’ve eaten.” Linking her arm through the other woman’s, she led the trek out of her beloved library. “What have you been doing in the meantime?”

A soft laugh escaped her as she was pulled forward, her own arms wrapped around the other, “Hey, what are friends for? Even when you’re neglecting me, I’ll still always be here.” Her words took on a teasing tone, eyeing her friend as she pulled back. It wasn’t that she was upset, for she knew how busy Ela could be. Just as busy as she became with the shop, and her art, and her magic. “And if not, we’ll rock our sweatpants and baggy t-shirts to the club,” she exclaimed, hardly paying any mind to the typical rule of quiet in the library. But when the question came, she couldn’t help the way she chewed at her lip, “Well, the usual, you know. And I, uh --- went on a blind date the other night.”

“Oh? Because you have definitely apologized a lot. I’m starting to think that’s your favorite thing to do,” he half-joked. She had apologized enough to last a lifetime the last time they had spoken, he was sure he would combust if she did it again now. Even as she said she was more than that, Alarick expected her to apologize. It was funny to him and he couldn’t help laughing at the thought. He quickly stifled that though. The last thing he needed was for her to think he was having fun so soon. No, that took several dates to get out of him. If there even would be another one. His eyebrows rose as it seemed she read his mind. “Already planning date number two, huh?” His fingers tapped against the table as he looked at the dance floor. There were a few people there, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be the one to add two more bodies to the mix. “I guess anything. Why a flower shop?”