#diviinitatis

Maverick stood before an ornate vanity table, adorned with a collection of delicate trinkets and a polished silver mirror. He meticulously removed his regal attire, piece by piece, unveiling the smooth expanse of his dark fae skin. Each garment was carefully folded and set aside by his loyal attendants, awaiting the next day's use.

As the prince disrobed, he reveled in the solitude of his private quarters, the only place where he could truly be himself, free from the demands of his royal responsibilities. The chamber was dimly lit by flickering candlelight, casting intricate patterns on the walls and reflecting off the polished surfaces.

Maverick approached a lavish four-poster bed, draped in deep velvet curtains that cascaded to the floor. The sheets, as black as a moonless night, were adorned with delicate silver embroidery, an homage to the stars that adorned the sky above.

With deliberate grace, Maverick slipped beneath the covers, his body sinking into the plush mattress. He rested his head upon plump pillows, their softness cradling him in comfort. The prince's eyes fluttered closed and eased his mind.

As Alexander stood before Maverick, his hand poised with the dagger, the dark fae prince's eyes opened, piercing the darkness and meeting the servant's gaze. Maverick's initial surprise quickly transformed into a mischievous smile, as if he sensed something intriguing about the disguised servant.

When someone keeps coming in front of you over and over, then it made even the most doubtful person start to believe in fate. That is how the now land-dwelling Ulysses felt when he came across D'Ablo, or what he thought was him. It's been years since he saw the vampire, but he can recall the long blonde hair and the manner in which the other walked. He even remembered the other's attitude, which was reflected from the slight mannerisms now.

He should ignore it, right? Pretend that he didn't see him and walk away, because it's not like they were the best of friends. In fact, they've always clashed and it led to the worst arguments. Ulysses cannot stand him, to no surprise neither did the other feel that they could understand the warlock.

But... it was curiosity that trumped everything. After all these years he wanted to know what the vampire was up to, and if he was- hopefully- more miserable than before.

So he bumped shoulders with him, exaggeratingly hard. It was in the middle of a shopping area, a bit crowded from the summer sales, so it's not like it would be a strange occurrence. Ulysses hoped his action to garner attention would seem natural.

It was an unfortunate habit her drudges had taken on of letting just about anybody walk in to her home. If they had fangs and looked official enough, they’d be granted entry to her estate. It wasn’t all their fault, perhaps -- drudges were as weak-minded as any other human, and many of her usual adversaries were adept to using their powers as a method of getting their way. 

She’s haphazardly draped across the chaise lounge in her study, clearly under-dressed for company when she looks up to see the visitor in her doorway.

“Aiight, listen. I’m not sayin’ this is the best scone in town,” the irish started, placing the small baked good in a porcelain plate in front of the other. It was precious, to say the least. Even by looks alone, it looked delicious. He then took  a seat across the other and added a smug grin to his expression.

“I’m sayin’ it’s the best scone ya’ve ever had in yer life,” Max concluded, trusting his baking skills more than he trusted the sun to come up every morning. It was, perhaps, the one thing he was confident in within his entire and diverse skillset.

describe your muse on anon and my muse will say if they would date them or not || @diviinitatis

Ever since Vlad had woken up the morning after Halloween, he just… couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. So very, very wrong.

It wasn’t until he’d found the journal, his journal if the writing on the cover was right, that everything clicked into place. Well, not everything.

But it was enough.

And Vlad was determined to fix things, to ensure that this time, things went better. That people didn’t die.

And that his father would pay for everything he did to Vlad’s mom.

But he knew he couldn’t just run off and search the world for his dad, he just didn’t have the money for that. Heck, he had needed to save up weeks worth of allowance to make sure he could have enough to get a cab to and from Stokerton.

So, he’d looked to some other place to start. At the beginning.

D’Ablo.

The vampire that had started it all for Vlad. Who had done everything he could to make Vlad’s life a living hell.

And his options were clear, even if he didn’t exactly like them.

He either needed to convince D'Ablo to join his side, or he’d need to kill him.

Just the thought still left him ill.

He hopped that the latter would be the outcome, but he needed to be ready for the worst.

Before leaving, Vlad had grabbed the lucis, the ultimate weapon against vampire kind.

Then, he left for Stokerton, for the council building.

Once inside, he kept his head down, hoping not to be spotted and recognized before finding D’Ablo and getting a chance to talk.

Surprisingly, he managed to find the president, and things didn’t seem to be all that busy.

Vlad took a deep breathe, no turning back.

He needed to do this.

@diviinitatis | send me a 💎 and my muse will rate your muse’s physical appearance on a scale of 1-10

“Okay well have not met one of them but from what I have now seen, has a overly adorable smile and that just wins so many points. Hmm... I’m going to say a 8″