#lainstarter

Any rave was a playground, good for business; there were some people working the party for him that he'd made sure were well supplied - getting to people when they were at a function was a good strategy. Lots of people would be chasing the feeling they had tonight, fleeting as it could be. That wasn't enough of a reason for Enfenim to attend though, there was a very good boy who had earned a reward - was this not the season of giving? Cornered, Enfenim found Lain alone before he backed the lycan against a wall. Some whorish attire shared between them, his arm lifted to settle over the lycan's head as he leaned in as Enfenim so often did.

"I got you something." It was Christmas after all. He held up a vial of an Otherworldly powder, a ziran and silkroot composite, a stimulant that induced euphoria and minor hallucinations. Ethereal blue, it shimmered with a dark iridescence as it caught the ambient christmas lights that had been strewn about the vampire's castle. The composite was a clear recipe for a very good time. There were some drawbacks, especially where lycanthropy was concerned but that was a small price to pay in Enfenim's humble opinion. "A catch though: I get to choose where you do it."

“They do this shit every year?” Micah asked as he looked up from the place that him and Lain had tucked themselves away in under the bleachers. Trading a bag between them as the faiman passed the time in a similar way to when the two of them had hung out at the vigil together. Micah had missed the fey thing, the halloween party too because shit always happens at night. The curse was broken now though and Micah was ready to go all night. “It’s kind of sexy, yeah?”

The taste was still there. Metallic. Rich. Iron. It was nice, comforting. Alek remembered waking up with no memory of what happened the night before, the full moon was something to be feared: when every bone in his body would break to make room for something new, for that thing that was inside of him. He’d retch into the nearest tree and spit up everything under the sun, bits of fur and flesh and blood. Teeth, hair, wool, bones. Alek hated to lose control, troublesome as he was he didn’t want to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 

He remembered everything now. Broken bones felt like home. These things inside of him that scratched at his flesh needed to come out and run free. They preferred the quiet, Alek did too. Places outside of the city where the world was still and clear but that didn’t keep the lycan from making his way home to familiar scents and paths he couldn’t seem to shake. A pile of dirt that Alek used to liken to a soft bed, a grimy flat over a convenience store that was a landing pad when Arno meant something to him. 

“You-” What was his name again? Alek should know it. Laughter. He could hear it in the walls, smell it in the passed and forth green that lingered in the paint. The lycan’s clothes hung in ragged tatters, the very same he’d had on his back on halloween, scarred flesh and residual burns from phoenix flames. Fire, Alek remembered the fire. A twist in his throat brought his vocal chords to a low growl, “I know you.” 

Relegated to guard duty, there wasn't much to be done during the cold of the night, the Asphodel had the bulk of the Allied Senate Forces pretty well contained, but he still wanted some sort of entertainment. The witch of all bitches, Trivia had closed so many of the Otherworldly gates that the nearest one was very, very far away. And there was an army between him and it, so, for the time being Enfenim was resolved to project just his consciousness to the mortal realm. There was a flea-ridden dirty bag that the winter exile had taken an interest in lately, if nothing else, he was a good customer at least.

In a vapour of silvery mist, Enfenim appeared and stepped from the ruin of what was once an alleyway. The beast looked depraved, burnt with his clothes in tatters, certainly a look. While Enfenim could do little to influence things in this realm, he was very much here physically. "I didn't take you for the Court's errand boy." Overhead the Titan was rampaging as it blasted aetherial magic along the city's walls. It levelled homes, buildings, and scarcely differentiated between friend or foe. Enfenim a bit of dismal fabric, "I take it there's a story behind this."

Micah had taken some distance because while he'd gotten sober, his friend hadn't, and while the eladrin wasn't going to preach at him, he had taken some space while he focused on himself. It was hard to picture the scrawny, strung-out man beating anyone but himself in a fight, but Micah had seen the roster go up, and while he was surprised, he was oddly... Proud? Happy for him? At least Lain was fighting for something, Micah wasn't sure if he'd ever really done much of the same. "Shit got pretty crazy last year." Micah took a beat as he ran a hand through his hair and thought about everything he tried not to think about at once. The body that had stopped being his, the pain, and then finally, The End. "But we're alive so that counts for something, right?"

It was easy to find the lycan; Enfenim had just taken his time. They'd had their fun at Hakanalia, but it was rare that the elve revisited the same hole twice. It wasn't really to Lupercal's advantage to be so friendly with elves; they just let anyone in, and wherever Enfenim went, an abysmal chill followed. Frost etched over the ground beneath his feet, the panes of windows, and the air was permeated by the bitter breath of fog as the moisture about him froze over.

"Interesting choice of abode." Not a compliment but Enfenim couldn't bring his tongue to wrap around many aesthetic compliments when he was in this dog pen that the lycans called home. "I brought you something I thought you might be interested in." Maybe it'd even be enough to turn the tide in the coming fight: Alpha Lain, what an amusing idea.

Enfenim wasn't shy around the courts, they'd run from the Otherworld with their tails between their legs and setup in the forest where any fey could just come and go as they pleased. Even the exiles. Crimes so old that there weren't many left who remembered they'd been committed in the first place. It was advantageous for someone who'd changed his name and all but disappeared from the history books. Enfenim and his brother weren't popular, but regicide had that effect on public opinion.

Being here now though while satyrs played pan flutes and whatever the fuck else it felt more like a homecoming than anything. He'd spent so many years avoiding these places that the eladrin had forgotten why that was. Old, noble winter blood flowed through his veins and and being back here after all this time felt oddly nostalgic. People mistakenly assumed he hated the fey, that was wrong, he just hated the crown and resented that their power had been stolen from them by a Queen was who now absent.

Below the streets in the bowels of the city, even the catacombs had been transformed. Dark alcoves and roots from the trees above defined the old stones as the Otherworld seeped into this place. "This is a stimulant that'll keep you up for days," a baggie of Teranzul ground into a powder, users of this sometimes had children born with tentacles. A rare product. "This will make you smarter but who wants that at a party?" Haunspeir compressed into a tablet, popular with sorcerers etc. Dried and ground Ziran, fungi found in the Underdark and first produced by the drow, "This will stimulate you for a few minutes, but afterwards you'll have an out of body experience." He had laced everything with yulchass powder, a berry that kept you awake for an extra day and acted as a truth serum. Just for fun. "Silkroot will induce euphoria, make you feel happy for a while." Addictive too. "Dreambliss will make you sleep, but if you mix it with the hallucinogenic dreammist you'll get really fucked up." Last but not least he held up a vial of alindluth, "And this will take your pain away. I'm in a good mood, so whatever you want is on the house."

Longboarding in Rome wasn’t ideal, but it was the vampire’s preferred method of transportation. Reflexes and recovery speed helped when the uneven roads sent him flying, but eventually he landed on what could only be described as the shady side of town. When work was light, Wolfgang had another means of income that was reliable year round. It helped support the artist’s endeavours and helped make friends - everyone was always friendly towards the guy with kush. “Lain right?” Description fit. “You uh, you live around here?” Wolfgang had to ask, the place was deserted and there was kind of a smell, but it didn’t look like anyone had really been here for a while.