#* zephyr

He hasn’t caught such a scent for some time now, but it’s the only thing he’s ever been absolutely sure of. A flicker of familiarity that doesn’t often seep into his conscious efforts anymore. The celebration is little more than a divide in his mind, something to pass the time, to allow him to observe all the more happening around him. Knowledge and information is what he builds his own empire around, but now, the only detail he knows is that he is not alone. The shift in the atmosphere takes it’s toll and before long he cannot shift it from the space between his shoulder blades. He’s being watched, intently. 

Slowly, he moves, his predatory gait clearing space around those that would rather keep their six feet of distance, the grand ballroom littered with people that are nothing more than a blur to him in that moment. It’s not until he breaks free of the crowd, that he finds himself standing in a near empty hallway, the same which leads out beyond the terrace and he stills. Some part of him hears it as a symphony, a menial shift in the wind that would otherwise go unnoticed. Azure hues observe the space around him - those still milling about pay him little attention now other than to note his strange behavior. The subtle shift of movement draws him in as he sees the mahogany door to his right move slightly, as if little more than a gust of wind collided with it’s solid face and he follows. Like moth to fucking flame. 

Seeking her out wasn’t difficult, rather, finding a moment where those unwelcomed didn’t seek to listen in took a little longer than he’d hoped. The common reaction to his presence alone left people a little more wary. Though Zephyr didn’t often remain on the island, it seemed that among those more aware of the darker side of the island, his reputation certainly preceded him. His slow gait drew him to the staircase, the woman he sought out perched at the top, looking beyond the bannister into the crowd below. Silence lingered between them as he lent forward once he reached the space beside her, his arms propping against the intricate wooden design, “I believe I have a proposition for you,” He spoke, as if they were discussing the weather. “One you’re not likely to refuse.” 

Zephyr Stanislav - Ozdemir Halloween Bloc Party

Zephyr Stanislav - Style

Centuries, Zephyr had watched the tides roll over the island. Over and over, with little change other than the what and whom. History did indeed repeat itself, and he had no doubt that the waves of such would soon be upon them. Truly, if he had anything to do with it... it was inevitable. Spotting Dominik broaching the edge of the crowd, azure hues locked with his and his head shifted only slightly, indicating for him to follow. As brothers stood, Dominik was the only one he truly trusted, and even then, it teetered on the edge of indignance more than anything; Vasili still hadn’t found his feet, after all this time, and remained little more than one of them by name only. Blood, he’d yet to shed. As they fell into step, following the direction of the hall that led out beyond the terrace, he spoke quietly, barely loud enough to break the sound of those surrounding them, “None of this feels right.”

It takes a steady moment for the dark flash to fade, only further amplifying Zephyr’s reminiscent distaste for this place. It’s always fucking something. For the better part of centuries, the eldest Stanislav has only returned fleetingly, moments in the past that could barely paint his presence and yet there’s no surprise in his features as he levels crystalline hues with the empty space among the ritual site. His immediate reaction is to turn his back, remove himself from an already volatile situation. The choice he’d made long ago removed himself from the throngs of chaos, took his name from the mouth of those that might truly understand the depth of corruption he carried with him, the last thing he wanted now was to be caught in the middle of it. At first, those same azure hues fell to his sister, the curt nod as symbolic as any utterance of words could be, but before he could do anything further, a scream tore through the crowd. Nie będzie odpoczynku… No rest, no rest... no rest... Tendrils of sunlight prickle at his skin leaving behind blisters as he flinches from the unnerving feeling, yet it’s nothing compared to the hunger that rips through his throat - burning it’s way through veins that darken as fang dig into his lesser lip.